UBRAKf
UNIVERSITY 6F
CALIFORNIA
SAN DIEGO
SCOTT AT SMAILHOLME TOWER.
TILE
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 lime ;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwreck'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.
HMD Illustrations.
NEW YORK:
HARPER <t BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
J."i & 331 PEARL STREET,
FRANKLIN MJUAIIE.
1854.
PHINTED BY KINO AND BA1BD,
3A.N80M STREET
PREFACE.
THAT a powerful interest attaches to the
boyhood of great men will hardly be denied by
any one who has given the slightest attention
to the subject. The juvenile exploits, adven-
tures, and aspirations of those who have per-
formed memorable services to their country
and their species, led mighty armies into the
field, advanced the progress of humanity and
civilization, achieved important triumphs in lit-
erature and science, or associated their names
honorably and indissolubly with some great
profession, are matters fraught with instruc-
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
ir 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 they 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 em-
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 public
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,
Were not attained by sudden flight ;
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night."
[ndeed, 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 these
worthy 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
ri PREFACE.
knowledge and habitual industry. The pleas-
ing 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 which 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 be
wished.
CONTENTS.
SIR WALTER SCOTT '. IS
POPE ... .20
II.
GIBBON ....................................................... 35
SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH ............................... 43
III.
rftfcs.
DR. JOHNSON X 53
LORD JEFFREY .. 63
IV.
Statesmen.
CANNING .'. 73
WEBSTER......;.. &
Tili CONTENTS.
V.
3Latorewf.
LORD MANSFIELD ........................................... 99
LORD ELDON ............................................... [. 110
VI.
IJIjilantJjropists.
WILBERFORCE ............................................... 123
SIR THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON ............................ 133
VIL
SJstronomecs.
GALILEO ...................................................... 147
FERGUSON .................................................. 157
VIII.
Natural iJtnlosoyijcrs.
SIR ISAAC NEWTON ......................................... 170
GASSENDI ................................................... 181
FRANKLIN .................................................... 186
IX.
PASCAL ....................................................... 194
D'ALEMBERT ................................................. 205
X.
dmfste.
CAVENDTSH ................................................... 210
SIR HUMPHRY DAVY ........................................ 216
CONTENTS.
XI.
Sailors.
LORD ST. VINCENT 221
NELSON 230
XII.
SolUfers.
DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH 239
BONAPARTE 846
xm.
HANDEL ...................................................... 959
MOZART ..................................................... 265
XIV.
SIR T. LAWRENCE ........................................... 376
SIR DAVID WILKIE ................... - ..................... 286
XV.
Sculptor*.
CANOVA 304
THORWALDSEN 317
XVI.
SIR WILLIAM JONES ....................................... 323
DR. ARNOLD .. ..329
X CONTENTS.
xvn.
JDMnts.
BISHOP KEN 337
DR. PARR 343
DR. CHALMERS 347
XVIII.
Surgeons.
JOHN HUNTER 358
SIR ASTLEY COOPER ... ..863
XIX.
Waturalfsts.
SIR JOSEPH BANKS 375
AUDUBON... .. 381
LIST OF PLATES.
SCOTT AT SMAILHOLME TOWER Frontispiece.
CANNING'S MIMIC HOUSE OF COMMONS 78
EARLY HOME OF WEBSTER 87
RESIDENCE OF WEBSTER AT M ARSHFIELD 97
FERGUSON'S FIRST ATTEMPTS IN ASTRONOMY 162
NAPOLEON'S WARLIKE PREDILECTIONS 249
WILKIE'S EARLY STUDIES 287
YOUNG CANOVA'S SKILL IN MODELING 309
CHALMERS' FIRST SERMON 351
ASTLEY COOPER'S DEBUT IN SURGERY .. 3C7
THE
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
14 POETS.
ancient, ruinous fortress, or haunted stream, he im-
bibed his strong love of legendary lore, and his enthu-
siastic 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 sufficient
materials for a brief, but perhaps not altogether un-
instructive sketch.
Sir Walter Scott's father, a most respectable writer
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 it
a poet, with the soul of a cavalier, who labored a*-
BOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 15
siduously to restore the Royalist 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 15th 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
accomplishments. 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 mar
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 rnorass 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 baronia
castles, mouldering abbeys, and ruined towers, which
struck his infant eye, and touched his childish imag
ination, with a force, the effect 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 abotf.
the farm, and was rejoiced when carried about in th
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 affection that lasted all his life. He was,
some 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 the
deeds of some of the old forayers, whose memory
" tradition's simple tongue" still kept alive in the
district. Perhaps the recollection of his own early
feelings prompted his description of the heir of Braiik-
ome's " childish sport '**
BOYHOOD 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 rode."
He was much fonder of exercise in the open air
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-
ed, 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 Walter
in 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
eea, 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, indeed,
B
18 POETS.
was it graven on his memory, that fifty years after-
ward he described the feelings 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 ;
inferior, 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 !"
as the lightning flashed around him. For there it
was that, while listening to his relations' stories of the
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
effect, 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 hia
eighth year he was taken for sea-bathing, to the his-
toric village of Prestonpans, where he became in-
timate with an old military veteran of the name of
Dalgetty, who was glad of so ready and eager a
listener to his tales of the German wars, in which
he had been. That his attention had been of the
deepest kind the future fully proved.
Scott now returned to his father's house in Edin-
BOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 19
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, but "glanced
like a meteor from one end of the class to the other."
He soon, however, became a great favorite with his
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 Crosscauseway.
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 of which he had so fine a per-
ception, and rejoiced over Percy's "Ballads" with
heartfelt joy. Sometimes, while poring over them
in a huge platanus-tree in the garden, he lost all
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 who 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.
He 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
firmness of his understanding and the strength of his
character, he acquired great influence, long before
there appeared the slightest probability of his taking
BO 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 WALTER SCOTT. 21
pled his haunts with their ancient heroes. His im-
agination created a present out of the shadowy past,
and in this enchanting but fictitious world, he lived,
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
carne 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 his
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
22 POETS.
many 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 Ercildouue 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 fanciful
attachment, the memory of which is said to have
haunted him in maturer years. The object of it was
a 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
interesting and life-like works of fiction. Meantime,
in the second year of his apprenticeship, he had been
severely affected by the breaking of a blood-vessel,
and. being confined to bed, amused himself with his
BOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 23
favorite books, illustrating the battles and sieges of
which he read with chess-men, shells, and pebbles,
arranged in such a manner as to represent the
hostile armies. He had also mirrors so placed in his
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 with a kind look, and the cherished words,
" You'll be a man yet, sir !", 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
could ever have been earnestly in his professional
pursuits. At all events, it is certain that if he made
efforts, they were not, in the highest degree, success-
ful. However, he was appointed Sheriff 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 genius 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," which, 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 arid
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 he accomplished his splendid
triumphs. In treating of England and France he was
equally successful, and a wondering world beheld a
true picture 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 his.
BOYHOOD OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 2i
Then came reverses, which gave the world a knowl-
edge 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
resources of his great genius. Throughout life hi
was actuated by a strong sense of duty ; and nevel
was it more resolutely exhibited than in his days ol
darkness. He was also animated by another feeling,
scarcely less powerful with him a sympathy with
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 in 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,
brought 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 elated by the
applause of the " great vulgar," and was the cause
of his leaving a name which is seldom uttered with-
26 POETS.
out admiration 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
fair fields of old romance which he has thrown open to
all future generations. He died at Abbotsford on the
2 1st 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
in 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,
the 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
which has been vailed in a strange mystery. Accord-
ing to his own authority, " of gentle blood each parent
BOYHOOD OF POPE. 27
sprung," his father being of a gentleman's family in
Oxfordshire, of which the Earl of Downe was the
head ; and his mother a daughter of Mr. Tumor of
York. 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 accomplished.
Alexander Pope was born in London, on the 22d
May, 1 688, 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 be
said to have endured so long. His bodily weakness
continued through life, and obliged him to wear stays
for support, but no trace of excessive amiability ap-
pears in any of his writings, no matter whether they
were produced in youth or manhood.
28 POETS.
Pope, whose voice was so pleasing in infancy that
he was called, in 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 books, learned to write by imitating print, a style
of penmanship in which he ever afterward greatly
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 religious views, instilled
into his young mind the bitterness which afterward
displayed itself with an effect so perceptible. He
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's
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
sent 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
acted by his schoolfellows. He likewise began to
BOYHOOD OF POPE. 29
study the English poets, and considering Dryden 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 douht the effects produced hy 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 Binfield, in Windsor Forest, whither the youthful
poet, who had already gazed rapturously at Dryden,
was summoned, at the age of twelve, to be placed,
in 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
subjects, and albeit knowing, according to the descrip-
tion of the poet
" No schoolman's subtle art,
No language, but the language of the heart,"
is reported to have criticised the productions, and had
30 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 affairs, without
having had any commerce with the world. Anxious,
however, to confirm and extend his information, he,
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 had 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 authors
has been handed down to posterity.
At the age of sixteen, Pope had the good fortune
BOYHOOD OF POPE. 31
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 cdntest with the aged scribbler, he
signally defeated him. Pope, however, always re-
garded Wycherly with feelings of kindness, and paid
him a visit shortly before his death. Another 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-
32 POETS.
spondeuce, which first 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 Cofiee-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 style
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 Bctterton, drawn by him, afterward
passed into the possession of his illustrious friend Lord
Mansfield ; but his near-sightedness was so effectual
a 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 modem
learning, as are not often attained by the maturest
age and the longest experience."
It was published two years later, 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 translations
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 the
C
34 POETS.
youth who feels the promptings of genius and the
desire of distinction.
Doubtless his faults, which perhaps arose in some
measure from his bodily sufferings, 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 chuse another tale ;
For they shall find enough
Of storial thing that toucheth 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, 1744,
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
some of the most brilliant of his countrymen, and
which will probably last as long as the literature of
which they form so interesting a part.
CHAPTER II.
Historians.
BOYHOOD OF GIBBON.
AMONG " the immortals of literature," Gibbon oc-
cupies a very high and conspicuous position ; and his
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 more
than a hundred thousand pounds to lose as a director
of the South Sea Company. However, he subse-
36 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 who
resided at Putney.
At that village Edward Gibbon was born, on the
27th of April, 1737. His infancy was 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 affection 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 Beriton, 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
Hampshire, his maternal grandfather became bank-
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 information,
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 1751, 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
Borne time at Winchester, he showed, in his fifteenth
year, signs of being more robust in health, and was
38 HISTORIANS.
placed at Esher, in Surrey, under the father of Sir
Philip Francis, better known as the translator of
" Horace." Ere long, however, Gibbon's relations
discovered that the teacher did not by any means
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
successful 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. 39
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 devoted to the examination and study of the
great Latin authors. Never, perhaps, was more la-
borious exertion made by any man to qualify 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
40 HISTORIANS.
conversation and applause. " The report," says
Gibbon, in his autobiography, " awakened my curi-
osity. I saw and loved. I spent some happy days
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 was 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 different 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-
scurity. 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 won the enchant-
ing damsel. He soon after became the first minister
BOYHOOD OF GIBBON. 41
of Franco ; and, when Gibbon next visited the
daughter of the humble mountain pastor, he was the
brilliant 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
42 HISTORIANS.
legion, and the captain of Hampshire grenadiers was
not useless to the historian of the ' Roman empire.' "
In 1 774 be was returned to Parliament for Liskeard,
and subsequently appointed a Lord of Trade. At
length, in 1776, 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-
fortunately 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
twelve, 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 agreea-
ble companion, and that whatever might be the fu-
BOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH 43
ture fate of my history, the life of the author must
be short and precarious."
He survived ibr seven years to enjoy the triumph
of his superb genius, and died on the 16th of Jan-
uary, 1794.
That Gibbon's errors in regard to religion 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 weighing 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 ; nor
was he in infancy associated with persons likely to
lead his thoughts and inclinations to study and spec-
ulation. On the contrary, his earliest years were
passed in a remote part of the country in glens
44 HISTORIANS.
and fastnesses 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, 1765.
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 leading to
BOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH 45
the cottage, the clear streamlet by which he walked,
and the turf seat on which he rested, were, 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. In 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 inquiiy, 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 the
history of a period which, at the time of his death, he
was engaged in illustrating. He likewise read books
on theology, and forthwith began to argue on the
subject with great boldness. He perused, with eager-
ness and delight, " Plutarch's Lives," and Echard's
" Roman History ;" and was led by the latter into a
habit of castle-building in the air, from which he
never wholly freed himself. At first 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 of 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 Ameri
can War. Mackintosh's imagination was quite cap-
tivated by the report of them ; and, adopting the crj
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 a
orator and historian. Having thus chosen his side,
he prevailed upon the more advanced and intelligent
BOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 47
of his companions to devote the hours allotted to play
to 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
which they harangued, the Tribune. Mackintosh
was ever the foremost and keenest in debate. One
day he would appear as Burke, another as Fox, or
some other leading member of the Opposition ; and
when no one ventured to reply to him, he would, 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. He
particularly excelled when, in the character of Fox.
he directed his eloquence against some measure of the
prime minister. His voice, though weak, was musi-
48 HISTORIANS.
cal ; and his efforts seem to have much surprised and
delighted any grown-up person who had the curiosity
to come and listen to them.
He always went, during the vacation times, to his
grandmother's house, where he found books enough
to monopolize his attention. His father complained
that he would become "a mere pedant," and sneered
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 one 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 Rollin'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 by
a young lady who had formerly treated him with
much kindness, and whose firm friend and ally he con-
tinued throughout the war to which 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 like his uncle's, announc-
ing his death, from wounds received in falling down
a rock, while gathering hazel-nuts. The news of his
supposed untimely fate excited as much mourning
and as many tears as he could reasonably have de-
sired ; 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 affectionate
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
50 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 his
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 afforded him a pleasure
of no ordinary kind, and to have had a considerable
effect on his mode of thinking.
On arriving in Aberdeen, he had the good fortune
to make the acquaintance of the celebrated Robert
Hall, whose abilities and conversation exercised a
great influence on his mind ; and with whom, as
BOYHOOD OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 5J
they lived in the same house, and were both dispu-
tatious, he had perpetual controversies. These led
to theft 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
lady, whom he wooed in prose and rhyme till the
flame 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 Russia, 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 " Vindiciaj Gallicae," 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
defense of M. Peltier, an emigrant royalist of Franca
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 sven 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 1688," 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 affords them amusement, and his works are
perused with profit and pleasure. The boyhood of so
great a man can not surely be without its lesson.
He was born at Lichfk-ld, on the 18lh of Sop-
54 C1UTICS.
lember, 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 mother
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
fixed in his memory ; though there was in reality
no 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 Boswcll:
BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHJNSON. 55
" 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 was, 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
effect, 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."
lie 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-
56 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 En-
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
efforts which laid the foundation of his fame. He
was almost disqualified by his defective sight from
BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHNSON. 57
joining in the ordinary diversions of the school, but
much given to reading. Romances, indeed, formed
the chief part of it, and he retained his attachment to
them throughout life. He often regretted his devo-
tion to 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-
cited 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 of
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 of a cord 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
time 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-
shire. This was 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 the 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
offered, and paying him a compliment, which he ever
after held in grateful remembrance. She said he
was the best scholar she had ever had ; and Johuson,
BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHNSON. 50
who held 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 Pembroke 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 talenf ; he had also, while at Lichfield,
written an epilogue for some young ladies who had
proposed to act " The Distressed Mother," and he
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 in
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 efforts 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 ever 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
hitn 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
lie accepted a situation as usher in a school at Mar-
C2 CRITICS.
ket Bosworlh, which he retained only for a few
months, experiencing great misery all the time. He
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 1762 his Majesty settled on him a pension ;
the degree of LL.D. was bestowed on him by Trinity
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 time when the
BOYHOOD OF DR. JOHNSON. C3
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 his 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 Jeffrey, 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, Jeffrey was sent to a
private school ; and though a " little tiny boy," was
remarked for his intelligent vigor, even before he had
doffed the petticoats.
When eight years old he was placed at the High
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 the
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-
eisting 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 LORD JEFFREY. Oa
encourage youthful talent; arid Jeffrey, throughout
life, held him in. grateful remembrance. Though
reading was not, at that date, a very favorite amuse-
ment among the boys, 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
pome 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
whom Scotland is, and may well be proud. While
standing 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 ! ye may weel look at that
man. That's the poet Burns !" Jeffrey never had
a second opportunity ; but, ere long, he had an adven
E
66 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 !"
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. 67
for foes, eloquently haranguing some boys on 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 subjects on 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
68 CRITICS.
on Lectures," denounced their conduct, in taking
such a step, as " the meanest, most illiberal, and des-
picable !"
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 BO 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-
ishes of style, and brought to maturity that peculiar
acumen afterward so forcibly displayed in the pages
of the " Edinburgh Review."
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
not be out of place to mention that he was subject
to what he considered feelings of superstitious fear,
to cure himself of which he used to walk at the
mystic hour of midnight round the grave-yard of
BOYHOOD OF LORD JEFFREY. 69
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
Oxford, his father having escorted him thither. They
loitered arid 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 Jeffrey 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 was
the little garret in the Lawnmarket of his dear na-
tive town than the classic regions by the Isis. His
letters to a sister breathe nothing but discontent,
loneliness, and melancholy ; and it was with a joy,
which he was far from concealing, that he termin-
ated his short residence in June, 1792. He was, 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
1 S02, the establishment of the " Edinburgh Re-
view" afforded him a proper stage for the display of
his literary powers. He contributed no less than
two hundred articles to this potent organ of public
opinion, and continued its editor till his election as
Dean of Faculty, in 1829 with what tact, talent,
and judgment, the influence it exercised during
BOYHOOD OF LORD JEFFREY. 71
that 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 in
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,
to exercise them with credit to themselves and ad-
vantage to others.
CHAPTER IV.
Statesmen.
BOYHOOD OF CANNING.
THIS illustrious and patriotic statesman, whose rise
shook hostile parties to their centre, and whose name
deservedly occupies so brilliant a space in the polit-
ical history of the country was born on the llth 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 son 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,
BO he sacrificed the study of "Coke on Lyttletori" 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 unfitted 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 might)
empire, whose greatness his brilliant eloquence so often
celebrated.
An annuity, to which the clever but luckless Temp-
lar had been entitled, reverting at his death to his
father, the fair widow was left without the means
74 STATESMEN.
of support, and with no source of comfort but her
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 ling'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 beauty, 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 disreputable
character, rendering it extremely improbable that ho
BOYHOOD OF CANNING. 75
should ever arrive at high distinction, or even ordi-
nary respectability.
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 in 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 OVP came all obstacles, and the wealthy trader
consented, on certain conditions, to take charge of his
hopeful nephew.
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 al
76 STATESMEN.
Hyde Abbey School, near Winchester. The master
was one of those rigid disciplinarians 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 with
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 he 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
ceedmgs 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
entered upon with due gravity, decorum, and so-
lemnity. In this arena Canning soon gained cele-
brity by the clearness and vigor of his speeches
pledges slight indeed, but in his case sure, of those
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 whom 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 different casts and turns of genius which
will, in future, strongly characterize the leading feat-
80 STATESMEN.
ures of the mind. We see the embryo-statesman,
who may hereafter wield and direct at pleasure the
mighty arid complex system of European politics,
now employing the whole extent of bis abilities to
circumvent his companions at their plays, or adjust-
ing the important differences 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 his 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 the 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 praised by the
critics of the period for that refined humor which, in
after years, was so often and with so much effect em-
ployed against his Parliamentary antagonists. His
poem on the slavery of Greece, in one of the early
numbers, was also a creditable effusion. The work
continued to appear till July, 1787, when the copyright
was sold for fifty guineas. Several imitations of it have
been unsuccessfully attempted at different schools, the
BOYHOOD OF CANNING 81
most ambitious probably, being the coi temporary
paper which emanated from Harrow. It came forth
with a somewhat indiscreet frontispiece, represent-
ing the two publications 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 :
" What mean ye by this 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
ftrong was his attachment to the place, that even in
his greatest days he hardly ever missed a Montem,
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 public life, ho
became intimate with Mr. Jenkinson, who after-
ward, as Earl of Liverpool, was at the head of affairs
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 against each oilier in
F
82 STATESMEN.
the contest 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 view to taking part
in the government of the country, is said to have de-
live red 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 of
Commons as the scene in which his triumphs were
to be accomplished there can be no doubt ; for,
writing to a friend in 1788, 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 the
prize for "The Aboriginal Britons" with the Rev.
Dr. Richards, and was beaten, but transcended all
competitors in the " Tier ad Meccam," which was
recited by him in June, 1789; the theatre being
BOYHOOD OF CANNING. 83
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
following :
" 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. Ibs
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" having 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, and, 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 Castlereagh made way foi
him at the Foreign Office. In the April of 1827,
on the death of Lord Liverpool, Mr. Canning became
prime minister of England, thus fulfilling Lord Shel-
bu rue'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. H5
his last, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, by
the tomb of Mr. Pitt. His 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 1636,
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 ; arid, 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
militavi non sine gloria, he located himself at the
86 STATESMKN.
extreme north of the town oi' Salisbury; 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, dugu 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 inviting 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 through life
were encouraged and fostered in the earliest of those
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 he
BOYHOOD OF WEBSTER. 39
was tumble 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
schoolmaster 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 rnud 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 felicity not always exhibited
!X> STATESMEN.
liy 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, under 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 delighted 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 strangest
repugnance to declamation of every description ; nor
could all the encouragement or entreaties of the assist-
ant-tutor tempt or induce him to engage in it. He
did, indeed, commit pieces to memory, ^and recite
them in his own room, but when the time for deliv-
ering them arrived, he shrunk from a public display.
The fact is so interesting, that it may not improperly
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. / could
not make a declamation. 1 could not -speak before
the school. The kind and excellent Buckminster
sought 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 to memory, and
BOYHOOD OF WEBSTER. 91
recite and rehearse in my own room, over and over
again ; yet when the day came, wljen the school
collected to hear declamations, when my name was
called, and all eyes were turned to my seat, I could
not raise myself from it. Sometimes the instructors
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 been 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. " I 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 his life. Under the careful tuition of Dr.
92 STATESMEN.
Woods, he, with but an imperfect knowledge of
Latin, was in j.he habit of reading one hundred lines
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 although 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 book of the ^neid," was the ready
and startling reply.
From this date his hours were so sacredly devoted
to 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
influence on his 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 with heartfelt joy ; and assured him that
with 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 effort, 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, took 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 on the second day ;
and forthwith entered the freshman class, at Dart-
mouth College, in which he was at once recognized
as being superior to his associates. After a residence
of two years, during which he displayed his wonted
ordor and industry, he returned home to spend a
94 STATESMEN.
vacation. He now felt keenly for the situation of
his younger brother, who was destined to remain at
home, and spend his energies in a vain attempt to
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 me
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-
bnrg 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 critical, and not a little perilous
*,o his prospects of greatness; but he was resolved;
and aut mam 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 1802 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.
la 1812 he was elected to Congress, where his
first speech produced so striking an effect, that com-
petent judges did not hesitate to predict that he
would, some day, be one of the first statesmen in
America. His succeeding efibrts 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 brilliant 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.
In 1811 he became Secretary of State, under the
96 STATESMEN.
Presidency of General Harrison, an office to which
he was worthily recalled by Mr. Fillmore in 1850,
and the duties of which he discharged with signal
ability 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 consciousness of having gloriously done his
duty.
CHAPTER V
Catchers.
BOYHOOD OF LORD MANSFIELD.
OF the men who, in England, have profited by
and contributed to, the grandeur of the law, hardlj
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 were
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 his
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 him-
self with so much diligence to his books, as altogether
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 iiilellect, 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 lan-
guage with fluency, 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 younger
brother in charge of the master of the grammar-
school, 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 circumstances connected
with his early training furnished an inexhaustible
armory of ridicule to his enemies ; but he wrapped
himself up in a dignified indifference, which defied
102 LAWYERS.
their utmost efforts as effectually 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
under 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 certainty 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 LOUD MANSFIELD. 103
uretl students who paced the cloistered hall of St.
Andrews.
His parents at that time looked to the English bar
as the sphere in which be was to display, and profit
by, the talents with which he had been gifted ; and
it was arranged that he should, without delay, set
out lor the region where Hope beckoned him. Those
were not, however, the days of quick and convenient
traveling. Even post-horses had not come into
fashion ; and the adventurous youths who doffed the
kilt and put on Christian breeches to seek fortune ia
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 necessity
104 LAWYERS.
of leaving it behind, and traveling the remainder of
the distance to the Scottish capital ou 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 farewell 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 melior fartuna
parenle 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 sail-
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 on the 8th of May, and was received with
BOYHOOD OF LORD MANSFIELD. 105
great kindness by a thriving apothecary, who hav-
ting, like 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.
cnarrned and graced the other. His 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 tfiat to you ?"
The theme being in reality Quid ad te pertinet ?
At the election in May, 1723, after 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
in 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. 107
ing for the profession of the law ;" but h.s father,
finding that the expense of a legal education was
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 ofler, 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 Inn,
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.
were all too strong lor some of his able but impru-
dent contemporaries, he manifested great regularity
iu 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 ibr 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 two long years without being
employed in any cause of importance, neither the
BOYHOOD OF LORD MANSFIELD. 109
prospect of political nor literary honors could se-
duce him from allegiance to his jealous mistress.
At length his celebrated speech in the case of Cibbei
v. Slopper placed him above all rivals, and he per
severingly pursued his' first forensic success.
In 1742 he was appointed Solicitor-General, and
immediately proved himself one of the most brilliant
speakers in the House of Commons, where, with rare
exceptional cases, he was found fully a match for
the first Pitt. " They alone," wrote Lord Chester-
field, " can influence or quiet the House ; they alone
are attended to in that numerous and noisy assem-
bly, that you might hear a pin fall while either of
them is speaking."
In 1754 he became Attorney-General, and two
years after was created a peer, and raised to the dig-
nity of Chief-Justice of the King's Bench. He held
and ornamented the latter office till 1788. when he
resigned it from age and infirmity, having repeatedly
declined the Great Seal. His long, prosperous, and
glorious life terminated on the 20th of March, 1793,
and his remains having been placed in Westminster
Abbey, a monument was erected to his memory by
a client for whom his eloquence had, when he was
at the bar, recovered a valuable estate.
The life of this illustrious lawyer is fraught with
instruction to youth. The great talents with which
Providence had blessed him could have availed little,
but for the determination and diligence with which
110 LAWYERS.
he cultivated, improved, and exercised them. His
original position was certainly rather unfavorable
than otherwise to the attainment of such distinction
as he acquired ; and it was only the resolute and
untiring energy he practiced that led him to the
elevation, which no natural abilities will ever enable
their possessor to reach, without the application of
the great and vital element of all true success in-
domitable perseverance.
BOYHOOD OF LORD ELDON.
AN Englishman of strong and independent nature
who, without unduly courting the powerful, has by
unceasing industry raised himself to honor and dis-
tinction in the state, is ever regarded by posterity
with respect and veneration. Few of our lawyers
have played a more conspicuous part in public affairs
than Lord Eldon ; and fewer still have labored with
similar assiduity to attain the position that enabled
him to exercise an influence on the opinions and
feelings of the nation. The son of a hoastman of
Newcastle, and the grandson of a yeoman of the
Sandgate, he was precipitated by an early marriage
into a profession toward which he had little inclina-
tion ; yet, by hard study and unspared faculties, he
rose to its highest honors, and obtained its highest
rewards.
BOYHOOD OF LORD ELDON. Ill
John Scott was bora on the 4th of June, 1751,
at Love Lane, Newcastle-on-Tyne, where his father
was a general trader, his chief business being that of
a coal-fitter. He was a man of no inconsiderable
substance, as the fortune he was enabled to leave
to his family sufficiently proves, and according to all
accounts a freeman of high repute. His wife was
characterized at once by her excellence in the domes-
tic virtues, and by the superiority of her understand-
ing, which have been thought to account, in some
measure, for the abilities that raised two of her sons
to such honorable arid distinguished positions. The
future chancellor's life was imperiled almost in his
infancy, from his falling down a flight of stairs in a
go-cart ; and he was only saved, apparently, by that
good fortune which attended him throughout his
career. At an early age he was sent to receive his
first instructions from a person well known and long
remembered in the town by the honorable appellation
of Dominie Warden, his next teacher being the Rev.
Hugh Moises, master of the Newcastle Grammar-
School, who was quite absorbed in his instructive pur-
suits, and zealously devoted to the improvement and
welfare of his pupils. This worthy, though he was far
from sparing the rod, inspired his scholars with so
much esteem, that his memory was held by them in
considerable veneration. The teacher of mathema-
tics was no less a person than the afterward cele-
brated Professor Hutton ; and one of John Scott's
112 LAWYERS.
class-fellows was a pretty and gentle boy destined to
add fresh glory to his country's renown, whom fame
is now proud to claim as Lord Collingwood. Scott
was one of the most diligent scholars, and greatest
favorites with the master, who frequently held him
up to his associates as a model for imitation ; but
this did not, as sometimes unfortunately happens,
render him in the slightest degree unpopular among
the other boys, with whom, on the contrary, he was
in great favor. In fact, though he practiced much
of the application which distinguished his after years,
he seems to have always relished a frolic ; and used
to relate his juvenile adventures, in this respect,
with much merriment to the close of his life. In
those days the short-cake of Chester-le-Street pre-
sented to the youthful inhabitants of Newcastle an
irresistible temptation ; and one fine afternoon he
secretly undertook a journey thither, a distance of
some miles, on foot, accompanied by his younger
brother. Loitering about till evening set in, they
were met by a friend of their father, who thinking
that it was much too late for such young travelers
to return home, considerately took them to his house
and kept them all night. Meantime the family in
Love Lane were seized with dread at their unac-
countable disappearance, and had the town searched,
but in vain. Next morning the crier, bell in hand,
proclaimed through every street that the young
Scotts were mysteriously missing, without obtaining
BOYHOOD OF LORD ELDON. 113
the slightest intelligence in regard to them. At
length, tired with their journey, they arrived at
their father's door ; and the worthy hoastrnan, hav-
ing administered a sound whipping, sent them to
school, where Mr. Moises marked his displeasure by
a similar castigation. On another occasion, Master
Jackey, as he was then styled, was the seventeenth
boy flogged for a most ungallant piece of behavior.
They had surrounded an elderly lady in the street,
and would not allow her to go either back or for-
ward. She applied for redress to the master, who,
having vigorously done his duty to the other delin-
quents, exclaimed, as he arrived at the seventeenth
and last
" What ! Jack Scott, were you there, too ?"
The agitated criminal pleaded guilty.
" I will not stop," said the persevering flagellant :
" you shall all have it !" But his former exertions
had considerably weakened the force with which the
strokes descended, and "Master Jackey" congratu-
lated himself on having got off more easily than his
comrades.
It has been remarked, that neither at school nor
college was Lord Eldon one of those " demure boys"
denounced by Falstaff; and some amusing anecdotes
are related, which would fully vindicate him from
any such charge as that of being deficient in the
spirit of mischief.
His father agreed with a writing-master, to teach
H
114 LAWYERS.
him for half-a-guinea a quarter, during which he con-
fesses to having never attended but once. At the
expiration of that time he was sent to pay the
master, but the latter declared he could not, with
propriety, receive the money, as he had given nothing
in exchange. The young truant, however, insisted
upon his taking it, as he, with truth, stated that he
durst not carry it back to his father.
" Well," said the master, " if I am to take it, at
all events I must give something for it. So come
here." On the other going close up to him, he took
the money in one hand, and applied the other to
Master Jack's ear with a force which dashed him
against the wainscot.
Between school-hours the boys were in the habit
of riding on the grave-stones in St. John's Church-
yard. One day when they were thus delightfully
engaged, the cry suddenly arose that Moises was
coming ; and Jack being, as usual, among them,
made a desperate plunge down some steps leading to
the school, just in the nick of time to run against a
pudding, which a maid-servant was taking to the
bakehouse. He was obliged to borrow a companion's
great-coat to cover the mark it left. But, what was
worse, he had lost his hat in the scramble ; and" his
father was so extremely enraged at the whole affair,
that he ordered him to go without one till the cus-
tomary time for taking his best into every-day wear.
Thus the future noble and learned occupant of the
BOVHOOb OF LORD ELDON. 115
woolsack was forced to go without a hat for three
mouths, Sundays excepted. The next scrape was
still more serious, being nothing less than robbing an
orchard, then deemed by schoolboys rather an honor-
able exploit. After performing it, he had just gone
to bed, when a complaint on the subject was lodged
with his father, who immediately came to accuse
him of the offense; but, though his coat was lying
close by full of apples, and he was suffering internal
torture from those he had eaten, he boldly denied the
charge. However, this did not save him from the
double punishment consequent on all such misdemean-
ors ; for he relates that the taws of his father and the
rod of Moises were applied with their wonted whole-
some and salutary severity.
Nevertheless, ere long he was again engaged in
orchard-robbing with two of his companions. This
time they were taken before a magistrate, who, for
the offense, fined each of their fathers thirty shillings
a penalty which sat lightly on the future chancel-
lor ; though he seems to have been more alive to the
inconvenience of a sharp scourging, which his father
inflicted, preparatory to handing him over to the
more experienced Moises, who, as instructed, com-
pleted the ceremony in due form.
One day Scott met with an accident which threat-
ened to prove fatal. Falling back from a window
seat in the school-room against a bench, he was so se-
verely cut in the head that his intellect, and even his
116 LAWYERS.
life, were for some time thought in danger. The in-
dentation caused by the wound remained to the end
of his life. On another occasion, being curious to see
what was within a window, beneath the stone steps
of a house, he incautiously thrust his head between
the iron rails, and was unable to draw it out, till
assisted by a female beggar, who, happening to pass,
extricated him from this dilemma.
In the midst of all his gay pranks and mischievous
enterprises, he had made no small progress in his
daily studies ; and, when in his fifteenth year, was
not only a good classical scholar, but well skilled in
the somewhat rare accomplishment of English com-
position. Religious exercises were strictly attended to
by Mr. Moises, who was in the habit of marching to
church on Sundays, with all due pomp, circumstance,
and formality, at the head of his boys ; and Scott, on
being examined by his father on the sermon he had
heard, was always able in the evening to enter into
the minutiae of the discourse, and even to repeat the
very phrase used by the preacher, thus giving early
proof of those powers of memory that afterward reared
his mighty learning.
His juvenile accomplishments certainly were vari-
ous, for when, on Christmas-day, the elder Scott gave
a supper and dance to the bargemen whom he em-
ployed, the future Lord Eldon was in the habit of
dancing a hornpipe for their amusement. Indeed,
he appears to have taken great delight in the dancing-
BOYHOOD OF LORD ELDON. 117
school, and used afterward to dwell on the scenes en-
acted there with much complacency. The young
ladies weve in the habit of bringing their dancing-
shoes with them, and it was considered a proper, and
no doubt a pleasant, piece of etiquette to assist the
prettier of the girls in putting them on. Then, early
on the Sunday mornings, the joyous and enamored
youths used to pilfer flowers from the gardens in the
neighborhood of the Forth, to present to their sweet-
hearts. "Oh !" exclaimed Lord Eldon, as he glow-
ed with the pleasures of retrospection, after having
held the Great Seal for a quarter of a century,
"those were happy days we were always in love
then !" Indeed, in boyood, and especially in love
affairs, the future sage of the law showed no signs
of being troubled with the doubts and hesitations
that in later years haunted and perplexed him in the
Court of Chancery. On the contrary he seems to have
acted, in good time, and at all hazards, on the advice
of the poet :
" Quid sit futurum eras, fuge quserere ; et
Quern sors dierura cunque dabit, lucro
Appone ; nee dulces amorea
Sperne, puer, neque tu choreas ;
Donee virenti canities abeut
Morosa."
It appears that a Miss Allgood was the first object
of his attachment ; but she, according to his own
account, was scornful. He was, however, sufficiently
118 LAWYERS.
susceptible of tender impressions to find consolation in
the attractive charms of less contemptuous damsels.
Meanwhile, his eldest brother William, afterward
so eminently distinguished as Lord Stowell, had. in
his sixteenth year, obtained a scholarship at Corpus
Christi College, Oxford, and pursued his first triumph
so successfully, that in 1766, when the father wrote
to notify his intention of making the youngest son a
coal-fitter, he requested that the latter might be sent
up to him. Accordingly, in the beginning of May,
our hero was packed off in the London coach, and,
after being three nights and four days on the road,
was received at the White Horse, in Fetter Lane,
by his brother, who took him to see the play at Drury
Lane, which seems to have interested him much.
On the 15th of the same month he was matriculated
as a member of the University of Oxford by the Vice-
Chancellor, having that day been entered as a Com-
moner of University College. He had not then com-
pleted his fifteenth year, and looked still so much
more juvenile than he really was, that the elder
brother was, to use his own expression, quite ashamed
of his boyish appearance.
During the long vacation his father judiciously
put him once more under the charge of Mr. Moises,
which seems to have been felt as a sad wound to his
lately acquired dignity. This was not at all salved
by his preceptor expecting great things from him, on
account of his having been a short while at Oxford,
BOYHOOD OF LORD ELDON. 119
nor by the name of the " Oxonian," which seems to
have been applied rather in derision than honor, and
adopted by the whole of his Newcastle acquaintances.
In the following year he was elected to a fellow-
ship, and in 1770 took his bachelor's degree. The
examination, he used to say, was a farce in his time,
and he gave the following account of it :
" I was examined in Hebrew and in History.
' What is the Hebrew for the place of a skull?' I
replied, ' Golgotha.' ' Who founded University Col-
lege?' I stated (though, by the way, the point is
sometimes doubted), ' that King Alfred founded it.'
'Very well, sir,' said the examiner, 'you are com-
petent for your degree.' "
In 1771 he carried off the Chancellor's prize for
the best composition in English prose ; the subject
of his essay being " The Advantages and Disadvant-
ages of Foreign Travel." His modesty on the occa-
sion was so excessive, that he had actually to be
taken by the shoulders and pushed into the Shelden
Theatre, by the future Bishop of Clonfert, when the
latter had recited his prize poem. This achievement
was the cause of great joy to his old instructor, who,
entering the school, with the essay aloft in his hand,
said, in a tone of triumph, to the senior boys, " See
what John Scott has done !" His favorite pupil was
shortly, much to his old instructor's grief, to bear
away a prize more charming still, and for which the
competitors were not innumerous.
120 LAWYERS.
In 1772, being then in his twenty-second year, he
fell so seriously and deeply in love with Miss Surtees,
the " Newcastle Beauty," that, hourly apprehensive
of seeing her forced into a union with a wealthy
rival, he, much to the surprise and consternation of
the whole town, ran off with her to Scotland, where
they were married, and, as every one concluded,
ruined for life. The heroine was just entering her
nineteenth year, and looked very much younger from
her style of dress, and the ringlets that flowed around
her fair shoulders. She was extremely beautiful and
attractive, both in form and face ; and her appearance
is reported to have been, on the whole, so captivating
as, in the opinion of even staid persons and severe
critics of female merit, to have furnished the hero
with at least one apology for the hasty and, at first
sight imprudent, step which terminated the romance
of his life. Both families were, at first, greatly per-
plexed and chagrined at the occurrence ; but the
honest heart of the old hoastman soon so far relented,
that he gave the youthful couple an invitation to his
house, which, of course, was gladly accepted ; and
he afterward obtained the co-operation of Mr. Sur-
tees, who was a wealthy banker, in a scheme for
their maintenance. The bridegroom, however, was of
course obliged to relinquish his fellowship at Oxford ;
but he was allowed a year of grace, during which
he had the option of accepting any college living that
might come to his turn. With a view of having
BOYHOOD OF LORD ELDON. 121
two strings to his bow, he began the study of the
law ; but the church, as he said, was his first mistress,
and it was not till all hope of a college-living had
vanished, that he betook himself earnestly to the
studies appertaining to that profession, with which
his name is now so indestructibly associated. Thus
the marriage, which seemed likely to involve him in
irretrievable ruin, proved, in the end, the means of
his achieving great success and enduring fame.
Excited only by the prospect of far-distant success
and cheered and sustained in his arduous toil by hei
for whom he had sacrificed learned leisure, he labor-
ed with unremitting and wonderful devotion to his
new pursuits. In December, 1775, he removed from
Oxford to London, and, in the following February,
was called to the bar. At first he was not so suc-
cessful as he had anticipated ; but his unrivaled in-
dustry speedily overcame all obstacles. In 1788 he
became Solicitor-General, and was, somewhat against
his will, honored with knighthood. In 1793 he was
promoted to be Attorney-General. In 1799 he was
appointed Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas, and
created a peer by the title of Baron Eldon, of Eldon.
In 1801 he became Lord Chancellor, and held the
Great Seal, with a short interval, till 1827. Having
been advanced to the rank of earl in 1 821, he died on
the 13th of January, 1838, in the eighty-seventh year
of his age, after having long and conscientiously de-
128 LAWYERS.
voted himself to the public service, and filled a large
and important space in the public eye.
The sense of duty which prompted his labors, and
the extraordinary industry which he exhibited in pur-
suing them, were such as to entitle his memory to the
utmost respect ; while the high rank and distinction
to which they were the means of elevating him, the
confidence which was reposed in him by his sovereign
and his country, and the veneration which is now
rendered to his name by political friends and foes,
are, in an eminent dgree, calculated to animate the
ambitious youth to emulate the integrity he mani-
fested, and to imitate the labor he underwent in his
struggles for fame and fortune.
CHAPTER VI.
Philanthropists.
BOYHOOD OF WILBERFORCE.
THE family to which this illustrious philanthro-
pist belonged claimed to have been settled, as early as
the reign of Henry the Second, at Wilberfoss, in the
county of York, where they enjoyed considerable pos-
sessions. In the middle of the seventeenth century,
after a gradual decline in wealth, one of the represent-
atives, leaving the ancestral soil, took up his abode
in the town of Beverley, of which he became mayor.
His descendant, William, changed the spelling of the
name ; and a second son of the latter, a partner of their
mercantile house in Hull, was father of the distin-
guished man whose earnest eloquence stirred the pub-
lic feeling of Great Britain in favor of the oppressed
African race, over whom the slave-trade was then
brooding with pestilential horrors. William Wilber-
force was born on the feast of St. Bartholomew, 24th
of August, 1759, the third of four children; but of
his three sisters, the second only survived to years of
124 PHILANTHROPISTS.
maturity, and became the wife of Mr. Stephen, a
zealous auxiliary in the cause of negro freedom.
From infancy, he was feeble of frame and small of
stature. He used, in after. years, to express his grat-
itude at not having been born in less civilized times,
when it would have been considered impossible to
rear so delicate a child ; but he had, from the first,
a vigorous mind, and a most gentle and affectionate
heart. What was more, an unusual thoughtful ness
for others marked his earliest years, and gave presage
of that career of active benevolence which was to pro-
duce results so important and beneficial on the desti
nies of the human race. A frequent guest at his
mother's never forgot how he would steal into her
sick-room, taking off* bis little shoes lest he should dis-
turb her, and, with an anxious face, peer through the
curtains to learn if she was better. His aged grand-
sire, though his landed possessions were by no means
small, continued to the last in the Baltic trade, and
was a man known and respected for his talent and
integrity. He had seen much of life ; had been
acquainted with the great Duke of Marlborough,
when that mighty general was commanding the
allied army on the Continent ; and had displayed
becoming military ardor when the arsenal of Hull
was prepared for an expected attack of the Scottish
insurgents, in 1745. His tales of travel and adven-
ture were thus well calculated to charm the ear of
his grandson, and to implant in his young breast that
BOYHOOD OF WILBERFORCE. 125
desire of knowledge which subsequently animated
him.
At seven years, Wilberforce was sent to the gram-
mar school at Hull, of which Joseph Milner soon
after became master. The latter had as assistant
his younger brother, afterward the celebrated Dean
of Carlisle, to the influence of whose extraordinary
colloquial powers might, perhaps, be in some mea-
sure ascribed those social accomplishments which
made Madam de Stael declare Wilberforce the most
eloquent and wittiest converser she had met in En-
gland. Even then Wilberforce's elocution was con-
sidered so remarkable, that they were in the habit of
placing him on a table and making him read aloud
as an example to the other boys. He spent two
years at this school, going daily from his father's
house with a satchel on his back, except when he
visited his grandfather at Ferriby, a pleasant village
on the Humber. In the summer of 1768 his father
died ; and, after a few weeks' residence at Notting-
ham, the young philanthrophist was transferred to
the care of an uncle, with whom he went to live at
Wimbledon and St. James's Place, London. The
former residence afterward became his own, and was
dignified with the frequent visits of Mr. Pitt, when
that great minister exchanged the cafes of state for
the luxurious ease and country air which the place
aflbrded.
Wilberforce was in a short time sent to a school,
126 PHILANTHROPISTS.
which apparently, being of no very high character,
did not afterward furnish any very agreeable remin-
iscences. The master was a Scotchman, and had
an usher of the same nation, whose red beard for
it was scarcely shaved once a month made a lasting
impression on his memory. The pupils were taught
Latin, French, Arithmetic, and a little Greek. Wil-
berforce was a parlor-boarder, and, late in life, re-
membered with a shudder, that the food with which
he was supplied was so nauseous that he could not
eat it without a feeling of sickness. The two years
of his sojourn there had something of variety im-
parted to them by the visits he paid to Nottingham
and Hull, where he was considered a fine quick lad,
whose activity and spirit amply made up for some
deficiency of physical vigor. On one of these occa-
sions, a brother of his aunt having given him a pres-
ent much exceeding the sum usually falling into a
boy's possession, accompanied it with an injunction
that part of it should be given to the poor an inci-
dent worthy oi notice, from its having assisted, in his
own opinion, to form that character which afterward
worthily exercised so much influence on his fellow-
men in regard to beneficence and charity.
When he quitted Hull, no great pains had been
taken to form his religious opinions, but in his
uncle's house, a powerful influence was at work.
His aunt, being an enthusiastic admirer of Whit-
field's preaching, kept up a friendly connection with
BOYHOOD OF WILBERFORCE. 127
the early Methodists, and communicated a tone to
the mind of Wilberforce which, if he had been al-
lowed to remain with his uncle, would probably have
made him a bigoted Methodist, and excluded him
from that political world in which he acted so promi-
nent a part, and wrought deliverance for millions
groaning under captivity. Luckily the signs of his
being in process of conversion raised the suspicions of
his relations. " Billy," said his grandfather, " shall
travel with Milner when he is of age ; but if Billy
turns Methodist, he shall not have a sixpence of
mine." This threat would, no doubt, quicken the
maternal solicitude of Mrs. Wilberforce, a woman
of great and cultivated talents ; and she forthwith
repaired to London, to remove him from the perilous
fascination. His aunt frankly expressed her regret
that he should thus lose the opportunity of leading
a religious life. "You should not fear," said his
mother, with a severe allusion ; " If it be a work oi
grace you know it can not fail."
Wilberforce was almost broken hearted at having
thus to part from his uncle's family. He had been
treated by its heads with parental affection. " I can
never forget you as long as I live," he wrote to his
uncle, when, at the age of twelve, he returned to his
mother's house, to be launched into the gay and, as
he thought, frivolous society of Hull. The theatre,
balls, suppers, and card-parties, where then the re-
creation and delight of the town ; and being grand-
128 PHILANTHROPISTS.
son of one of the principal and wealthiest inhabit-
ants, he was, of course, eagerly invited and heartily
welcomed every where. His love of music and his
vocal powers made him a still more acceptable guest
than he would otherwise have been ; and though the
religious impressions he had received at Wimbledon
continued for a time to exercise so much effect on
him, that when first taken to a play it was almost
by force, the allurements of worldly pleasure at length
led his thoughts from the contemplation of serious
matters, and gayety and amusement became congenial
to his tastes and inclinations. Still, they could not
efface his familiarity with sacred Scripture and his
habits of devotion.
Soon after this, he was placed at the grammar-
school of Pocklington, the master of which, a man
of easy and polished manners, and an elegant, if not
profound scholar, treated Wilberforce with unusual
liberality, and, especially during the latter part of his
stay, made the very smallest demands on his time.
His agreeable qualifications in society, and his great
musical skill, rendered him always a most welcome
guest at the houses of the rural gentry. Neverthe-
less, he was remarked for his active turn of mind and
superior order of intellect ; and he gave proof of his
early abhorrence of the slave-trade, by addressing a
letter, at the age of fourteen, to the editor of a York
paper, in condemnation of the odious traffic in hu-
man flesh. His impressions, thus recorded, were, aa
BOYHOOD OF WILBERFORCE. 129
it soon appeared, deep and indelible. lie did not,
with all his engagements, allow his taste for litera-
ture to remain utterly uncultivated. On the contra-
ry, he is said to have excelled the other boys in the
composition of the required exercises, though seldom
beginning his task till the latest hour. For his own
gratification, he committed English poetry to memory.
Beattie's " Minstrel" was his favorite book, and learn-
ed by heart during his morning walks.
Notwithstanding all his habits of gayety, he went
to Cambridge " a very fair scholar ;" and, in October,
1776, at the age of seventeen, entered at St. John's
College. Here he was exposed to new and various
temptations. The death of his uncle and grandfather
had made him master of an ample fortune. On the
very first night after his arrival he was introduced
to a set of men whose character he paints in dismal
colors, and seems little to have relished. However,
he had the fortitude to shake off their company ; as,
in after-life, he had the resolution to abstain from
gambling, which was, with rare exceptions, the pre-
vailing vice among the men whom he met on entering
the world of politics and fashion. At Cambridge his
animation and amiability rendered him a universal
favorite ; and his time, which should have been
devoted to reading hard and attending lectures, was
spent at card-parties and other places of similar
amusement. Yet he was a good classic, and ac-
quitted himself with credit in the college examiua-
I
130 PHILANTHROPISTS.
tions ; but mathematics he utterly neglected, being
told that he was too clever to require them. In
vacation times his idleness was exchanged for the fes-
tivities of Hull, or for pleasure trips with his mother
and sister. On leaving Cambridge he had to accuse
himself of having neglected opportunities and wasted
time ; but, otherwise, his conduct was reckoned much
better than that of young men in general. He had
made the valuable acquaintance of Mr. Pitt, who
was preparing himself, by severe study, for that ter-
rible strife he was soon to enter upon. Wilberforce,
also, had previously resolved to betake himself to
public life ; and his ample fortune enabling him to
pursue his wishes in this respect, he commenced a
spirited canvass for the representation of his native
town in Parliament. Some hundreds of the freemen
resided in London ; and going thither to secure their
support, he first acquired confidence in public speak-
ing while addressing them. He likewise frequented
the strangers' gallery of the House of Commons, and
there again met Mr. Pitt, who was then watching,
as a spectator, the struggles in that arena in which,
ere long, he was to be one of the most successful
combatants.
At the general election of 1 780 Wilberforce was
returned for Hull by a large majority, having then
barely completed his twenty-first year.
The miseries endured by the African race had, as
we have seen, lonjr before attracted his attention, and
BOYHOOD OF WILBERFORCE. 131
enlisted his sympathy in their behalf; but the system
of slavery had been so long pursued and upheld, that
the magnitude of the difficulties to be encountered in.
any effort to remove " the dark stain that disfigured
the fair freedom of the country," appalled the cour-
age of the bravest. It baffled even the genius of
Burke, who, in the very year that Wilberforce took
his seat in Parliament, had sketched a code of regu
lations, which provided for its immediate mitigation
and ultimate suppression. But, after mature delib-
eration, the mighty orator and statesman abandoned
the project, from a perfect conviction that the strength
of those interested in its maintenance would inevita-
bly defeat his utmost endeavors. Wilberforce, how-
ever, was far from allowing the matter to fade from
his memory. This very year he wrote to a friend
going to Antigua, requesting him to collect informa-
tion relative to the condition of the slaves, and ex-
pressing his determination, or at least his hope, of
some day having it in his power to redress the wrongs
of these wretched beings. In 1787 he became their
declared and devoted champion, and henceforth never
slackened his philanthropic efforts for their deliver-
ance. In 1789 he first proposed the abolition of the
slave-trade in the House of Commons, in a speech
which was immortalized by the eulogy of Burke.
Early in 1807 a bill was introduced and carried to
effect that purpose, after which he directed his bat-
]39 PHILANTHROPISTS.
tcry against the continuance of slavery itself. While
representing the county of York, he attained an emi-
nence never before reached by any private member
of Parliament ; he incessantly watched over the in-
terests of his African clients ; and survived to hear
of the measure of emancipation passing the House of
Commons. In introducing it, the Colonial Minister
of the day paid this graceful and affecting tribute to
the worth of the veteran philanthropist : "It is not
without the deepest emotion I recollect that there is
yet living one of the earliest, one of the most religious,
one of the most conscientious, one of the most elo-
quent, one of the most zealous friends of this great
cause, who watched it in its dawn. Wilberforee
still remains to see, I trust, the final consummation
of the great and glorious work which he was one of
the first to commence, and to exclaim, ' Lord, now let
thy servant depart in peace !' "
He expired on the 29th of July, 1833, while the
Act was passing. Shortly before he exclaimed with
fervor " Thank God that I should have lived to
witness a day when England is willing to give twenty
millions sterling for the abolition of slavery !"
The announcement of his death was received by
the House of Commons, of which he had so long been
a most distinguished member, with peculiar feeling.
Mr. Buxton alluded to the event ; and in expressing
his love and reverence for the character of the
BOYHOOD OF THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. 133
great departed, applied to him the beautiful lines of
Cowper
" A veteran warrior in the Christian field,
Who never saw the sword he could not wield ;
Who, when occasion justified its use,
Had wit, as bright as ready to produce ;
Could draw from records of an earlier age,
Or from Philosophy's enlightened page,
His rich material and regale the ear
With strains it was a luxury to hear."
BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON.
THIS worthy and wonderful man whose career
well merits the serious attention, and study of all
who look to raising themselves in the world by the
intellect and capacity with which Providence has
blessed them, and reridering services to humanity,
was born on the 1st of April a somewhat inauspi-
cious day in the year 1786, at Castle Hedingham,
in Essex, where his father, the High Sheriff of the
county, was then residing ; though his usual seat was
Earl's Colne, in the same shire. The elder Buxton
was a man of a gentle arid kindly disposition, given
to field-sports, and highly popular in the neighborhood,
distinguished for his hospitality and for what was
of still more consequence attention to relieving the
miseries and necessities of the poor and needy. He
died at Earl's Colue, in 1792, leaving his widow
134 PHILANTHROPISTS.
with three sons and two daughters. This lady, a
woman of energy, intellect, strong faculties, strong
affections, and apparently a little eccentric, belonged
to the Society of Friends ; but her husband, having
been a member of the Church, and her sons baptized
accordingly, she, not being of the strictest sect, wisely
and meritoriously refrained from exerting her influ-
ence as mother and guardian to bring them over to
her persuasion. She strove to inspire them with a
profound regard for the Holy Scriptures, and to im-
plant in them a high standard of morality ; but ex-
hibited no particular anxiety to see them distinguish-
ed by broad-brimmed hats and buttonless coats.
It was said of Buxton that he never was a child
that he was a man in petticoats. At all events, he
was uncommonly vigorous in his early days, and
showed a bold and determined character. On* one
occasion, being requested to convey a message to a
pig-driver who had passed along the road, he set off
in pursuit, and though one of his shoes was swamped
and lost in the mud, continued to track the man by
the footmarks of the grunting drove through intricate,
miry lanes, for nearly three miles, and never halted
till he had overtaken him in the market-town of
Coggeshall and delivered his message. At the age
of four years and a half he was sent to school at
Kingston, but was so severely treated, and so sadly
stinted in his food, that his health gave way, and
removal, was the consequence. This was shortly
BOYHOOD OF THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. 135
after his father's death, and led to his being sent to
Greenwich, where, so far from having hardships to
endure, he found in Dr. Charles Burney a most kind
and judicious master. One day he was accused by
an usher of talking during school time, and ordered
to learn the collect, epistle, and gospel as a punish-
ment. When Dr. Burney entered the school, Bux-
ton appealed to him for redress, and stoutly denied
Ihe charge. The usher as strongly persisted in it ;
jut Dr. Burney said, " No ! 1 never found that boy
tell a lie, and will not disbelieve him now."
Buxton describes himself as having been in boy-
.aood of a " daring, violent, domineering temper."
When this characteristic was remarked to his mother,
' Never mind," she replied, " he is self-willed now ;
jou will see it turn out well in the end." One
of his schoolfellows, Mr. Twiss, states that Buxton
was then, as in after-life, remarkable for the tallness
of his stature, and was known among his playmates
as "Elephant Buxton;" but that, so far from exhib-
iting any of the talent which afterward distinguished
him, he often had his Latin lessons done ibr him by
his friend, whose services he reciprocated by proving
a most valuable ally and faithful protector when size,
and strength, and hard knocks, were in requisition.
Consequently, he did not make much progress in his
studies ; and the holidays at Earl's Colne, where his
mother continued to reside, left a more enduring im-
pression on him than the time spent at school. At
136 PHILANTHROPISTS.
home he was rather encouraged by his mother, who
treated him as an equal, and led him to express his
opinions without reserve, to bear himself as master
of the family ; and he was trained by the gamekeeper,
a singular character, and full of rural knowledge,
to bold and hardy habits of sportsmanship. Thus
situated, he learned to think for himself, and ac-
quired a kind of habitual decision, to which he at-
tributed much of his success in life. Moreover, this
gamekeeper, though he could neither read nor write,
had much natural good sense, shrewdness, humor,
mother-wit, and a rare dexterity in placing every
thing in new and striking lights. His feats as a
horseman were marvelous. He taught the boys to
ride, shoot, and fish ; he never did any thing iu the
absence of their mother of which she would have
disapproved ; and he impressed on their young minds
sentiments and principles of the highest, most honor-
able, and most generous nature, with all the simplici-
ty, purity, and freshness of one who had pursued his
meditations among green fields, rich woods, and yel-
low corn. Under the auspices of this rustic worthy,
whom he used to speak of as his " first tutor," Bux-
ton, who was physically well-fitted for the proper enjoy-
ment of country amusements, speedily acquired a keen
relish for hunting, shooting, and fishing. Through-
out life he had a strong fancy for dogs, and took
great delight in horses, the result, perhaps, of this
early apprenticeship to field-sports. Negroes and
BOYHOOD OF THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. 137
partridges were, to the last, somewhat grotesquely
blended in his thoughts.
His mother's system of education was peculiar.
There was little indulgence in it, but a great deal of
liberty. The boys were generally allowed to go
where they would, and do any thing they liked ; but
her authority, when exercised, was paramount and.
despotic. To the mother of a numerous and disor-
derly family, who inquired if the revolutionary prin-
ciples of the day were not making way among her
boys, she described her rule as " implicit obedience
unconditional submission." Her son's character was
not without such touches of willfulness as rendered
strong measures now and then necessary ; and in one
Christmas vacation, on her return, after a short
absence, she was startled with the intelligence that
" Master Fowell had behaved very ill, and struck his
sister's governess." This most ungallant offense she
resolved to punish by leaving him at school during
the approaching Easter holidays. In the mean time,
for some misdemeanor, two of the most disreputable
boys in the school had been sentenced to undergo the
same penalty ; and Mrs. Buxton, feeling the dilemma
in which she was thus placed, went to Greenwich
on the first of the holidays, and having frankly ex-
plained her difficulty to the juvenile offender, end-
ed by stating, that rather than have him left alone,
at the risk of being contaminated by the two cul-
prits, she was prepared to forego her intention, and
138 PHILANTHROPISTS.
allow him to come home with her other sons. His
answer was a strange mixture of hardihood and hero-
ism : " Mother, never fear that I shall disgrace you
or myself; my brothers are ready, and so is my din-
ner ; " and the stout-hearted Quakeress left him to
his fate.
Her aim was to give her sons a manly and vigor-
ous character. She impressed upon them, from child-
hood, the duty of benevolence, and set before them
the idea of taking up and advocating some great
cause, by which they might promote the welfare and
happiness of their fellow-creatures. She sought to
render them self-denying, and, at the same time,
thoughtful for others ; and particularly strove to incul-
cate an abhorrence of slavery and the slave-trade.
Occasionally the holidays were spent with their grand-
mother, either in London or at a country-house near
Weyrnouth. A visit of this kind was always looked
on as an extremely pleasant affair, and comprised
many of the happiest hours of Buxton's boyhood.
The situation of his grandmother's house was beau-
tiful, and commanded enchanting views of Wey-
mouth Bay and the Island of Portland.
When he had attained his fifteenth year, without
having made any considerable advance in learning,
Buxton persuaded his mother to allow him to reside
at home, and for some months divided his time
between field-sports and desultory reading. When
active amusement did not conveniently come in his
BOYHOOD OF THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. 139
<vay, he was in the habit of spending whole days
riding about the lanes, on an old pony, with some en-
tertaining book in his hand, to the entire neglect of
graver studies. His manners were rough and uncul-
tivated ; his friends labored to reform arid refine them,
but the weapons used for that purpose reproof and
ridicule produced no other effect than discourage-
ment and annoyance. However, he was looked upon
as the heir of a considerable fortune, which was
something to be thankful for ; and there was every
prospect of his passing through life like one of those
enviable squires who, according to old poets arid
modern historians,
By their own fire ;
And, when awake, were only good
To yelp and halloo in a wood."
He was, indeed, on the edge and crisis of his fate,
when, raw, loutish, and awkward, he set off', in the
autumn of 1802, to visit the family of Mr. Gurriey,
at Earlham Hall, near Norwich, with one of whose
eons he had previously become acquainted. The
Gurneys belonged to the most ancient gentry of
Norfolk, but had enriched themselves by commercial
enterprise, and become Quakers, though hardly after
the most rigid and approved fashion. The circle con-
tained four boys and seven girls, all zealously em-
ployed in self-education. The three elder daughters,
particularly, were endowed with superior rninds, and
140 PHILANTHROPISTS.
accomplished in various ways. They did not dance,
indeed, for that of course would have been a grievous
sin, especially as one of them was in esteem as a
preacher; but they v excelled as linguists and musi-
cians, and were possessed of equestrian skill that
Diana Vernon might have been jealous of. Even
the youngest were animated with an ardent desire to
acquire knowledge, and Buxton caught the inspira-
tion, not the less readily, as may easily be imagined,
that he was at first sight captivated with " the sweet
attractive grace" of the fifth daughter, Hannah,
and yielded to her charms without a struggle. No
event certainly could have been more fortunate for
him, or more conducive to improvement. It gave
a color to his existence, stimulated his industry in
the pursuit of knowledge, and exercised an influence
on him pregnant with good at a very critical period
of his life. He had gone to Earlham a loutish,
uninteresting lad, whose uncultivated condition had
defied all the efforts of Dr. Burney and his mother ;
but
' ; What not his parent's care nor tutor's art
Could plant with pains in his unpolish'd heart,
The best instructor, love, at once inspired."
The influences to which he was exposed there
awakened the faculties that lay dormant in his mind,
and wrought a complete change in the whole work-
ing of his spirit ; and when on leaving the place, he
BOYHOOD OF THOMAS FOWELL DUXTON. HI
looked back on the hospitable mansion, with its old
trees, under whose shade he had walked with his
charming friends, and sat while they sketched or read
aloud, it was with a vow to cultivate his talents a
firm and invincible determination to do or die.
His mother had proposed sending him to the Scot-
tish University of St. Andrews, but to this his aver-
sion was, from some cause, decided and insuperable.
Besides, there being reason to expect that he would
inherit considerable property in Ireland, she deemed
it advisable that he should complete his education in
Dublin. Accordingly, in the winter of 1802, he was
placed at Donnybrook, in the family of a person who
prepared pupils for the University. At this place he
took up his residence shortly before the Christmas
holidays ; and, though then he was inferior to all his
companions in classical acquirements, by spending
the vacation in close and resolute study, it was found,
on their return, that he stood first among the pupils.
He gave up all desultory reading, refrained from
looking even into a novel or newspaper, but pursued
weightier studies, morning, noon, and night.
After remaining a year at Donnybrook, and pay-
ing a visit to Earlham, the most delightful reward
for his labors, and the source of much pleasure aud
happiness, he returned to Dublin in 1803, and entered
Trinity College as a fellow-commoner. Here he al
once commenced his studies with great vigor, and
with a success which surpassed his expectations. His
142 PHILANTHROPISTS
college career was a perpetual triumph ; all doubts
arid difficulties disappeared before his arduous, en-
ergy. He bore of every prize, medal, certificate, or
honor, that it was possible for him to gain ; and as a
member of the Historical Society he received an
award of " remarkable thanks," which, though pro-
vided for by its rules, had never, up to that date,
been won by any individual. At the termination of
his University course, the highest compliment, con-
ceivable under the circumstances, was bestowed upon
him in being requested to stand for the represent-
ation of the University, with such assurances of sup-
port, that his return might have been calculated on
as a certainty. He took time to consider the mat-
ter ; much to the surprise of his friends he resisted
the tempting prospect thus opened to youthful ambi-
tion; and, returning to England in April 1807, next
month received the hand of the adorable Hannah
his highest and most cherished aspiration. The first
few months of his married life were passed at a
small cottage close by his grandmother's residence.
The expectations entertained of his succeeding to
Irish estates had been disappointed, and he found
that his fortunes must depend upon his own exertions
After deliberating on the idea of following the law
as a profession he relinquished it, and entered into
negotiations in different quarters, with a view of
establishing himself in business. For a time these
were fruitless ; and he suffered severely from the in-
BOYHOOD OF THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. 143
activity of the present, and the uncertainty of the
future. Indeed, as he said long after, he longed for
any employment that would produce him a hundred
a year, even if he had to work twelve hours a day
for it.
Nearly a year passed before his anxieties in this
respect were terminated. Then his uncle offered
him a situation in Truman's brewery, with the
promise of being a partner after three years' proba-
tion. Buxton was, during the term, closely occu-
pied in making himself master of his new vocation ;
yet he found time for the study of English literature,
particularly works on political economy. He cher-
ished the hope of some day entering Parliament,
and continued to exercise his powers of debate at the
Academics' Club, of which he was a member. He
now also began to show symptoms of having profited
by the example of his father, who as sheriff had done
his utmost to ameliorate the condition of the prisoners
in the county jail, and by the lessons inculcated by
his mother. The seed had fallen into good ground,
and began to spring up. Upon settling in London,
he immediately sought opportunities of promoting the
welfare of his less favored fellow-men, and engaged
in some of those benevolent pursuits to which his
after-life was devoted. From the time of his con-
nection with the distressed district in which the
brewery was situated, he took an active part in all
its charities, more especially those having education
114 PHILANTHROPISTS.
and the spread of the Gospel for their object. The
sufferings of the Spitalfields weavers became his pe-
culiar care.
In 1811 he was admitted as a partner in the brew-
ery, and during the seven following years devoted
his rare energies to business. He remodeled the
whole system of management, and hardly ever dis-
played greater vigor, firmness, and indomitable de-
termination, than in carrying his undertaking to a
successful termination.
Meantime, in the winter of 1816, he had zealous-
ly exerted himself to relieve or palliate the intolera-
ble sufferings that fell on the weavers of Spitalfields.
At a meeting held on their behalf, at the Mansion
House, he delivered a speech that commanded the
earnest attention, and won the enthusiastic applause,
of all parties. In the same year was established the
Society for the Reformation of Prison Discipline, on
which subject he, the following summer, published
his work, which was received with a degree of atten-
tion far greater than he ever looked for. It ran
through six editions in the course of the year, secured
the warm congratulations of Mr. Wilberforce, was
alluded to in the House of Commons by Sir James
Mackintosh in terms of the highest praise, was trans-
lated into French and distributed on the Continent,
reached Turkey, and induced a gentleman who read
it in India to examine into the state of the Madras
jails, and never to slacken in his endeavors till he
BOYHOOD OF THOMAS FOWELL BUXTON. 145
had effected a complete reformation in their wretched
condition.
In 1818 he was elected member of Parliament for
Weymouth, arid took his seat in the following spring.
The horrors of slavery, as has been stated, had been,
almost in infancy, impressed on his mind ; and he
had since become a member of the African Institu-
tion. This led to him being chosen by Mr. Wilber-
force as his successor in the advocacy and champion-
ship of the claims of the slaves. From this point he
labored assiduously to strike off their fetters, till 1833,
when the great principles for which he had contend-
ed were embodied in the Slavery Abolition Act, and
freedom bestowed on 900,000 British subjects in the
colonies. A baronetcy was conferred on him in
1840. To the last he was unremitting in his efforts
to benefit the African race. On the 19th of July,
1845, his spirit departed in peace from the earth,
and his mortal remains were consigned to their kin-
dred dust in the ruined chancel of the little church
at Overstrand. Crowds of the neighboring villagers
were there to testify their sincere esteem for his esti-
mable character, and their affectionate regard for his
memory. Indeed the latter, on account of his influ-
ence and services to mankind, rests on such an im-
perishable basis, that it will be fresh to the latest
generations. Such is the reward of persevering phi-
lanthropy.
Buxton's opinion seems to have been that a young
K
1IC PHILANTHROPISTS.
rnan may become very much what he plene<*. tr,
working, studying, and struggling. "The longer I
live, the more I am certain," he wrote, "that the
great difference between men, between the feeble and
the powerful, is energy invincible determination
a purpose once fixed, and then death or victor)'. That
quality will do any thing that can be done in this
world ; and no talents, no circumstances, no opportu-
nities, will make a two-legged creature a man with-
out it."
CHAPTER VII.
BOYHOOD OF GALILEO.
WHILE the memory of those who were instrument-
al in the persecution of this great man is regarded
with pity, contempt, or hatred, it is acknowledged
that, there is no one to whom physical science is more
indebted for its general progress than the courtly
and accomplished Tuscan, or whose name is associ-
ated with a larger number of important discoveries.
He was the scion of a decayed patrician family,
whose members had, in its days of greatness, held
high rank and filled important civic offices in Flo-
rence. But, in his time, they seem to have experi-
enced rather more than a full share of adverse fortune.
His father, Vincenzo, was a man of no inconsiderable
accomplishments, refined taste, and great musical
talents, of which he has left a monument in his
" Discourse on the Music of the Ancients and Mod-
erns," published in 1581 ; but his income was small
and his family large, so that the young Galileo was
148 ASTRONOMERS.
brought up in that chill kind of poverty which would
often make his thoughts wander from the sad reali-
ities of his father's circumstances to the position
occupied by his ancestors, and thus engender the
spirit of defiance which afterward brought upon him
the wrath of professors and the. vengeance of the
Inquisition.
Galileo Galilei was born at Pisa, on the 15th of
March, 1564, his mother being a lady of noble birth ;
and he soon gave evidence of not being in the roll of
ordinary boys. He busied himself with making va-
rious miniature models, and repairing the toys which
the rough and careless usage of his playmates had
damaged, thus gaining great popularity with the
children in the neighborhood. His young brain was
early exercised with thought, and it has been well
said, that while those of his age were whipping their
tops he was scientifically considering the cause of
their motion. He was early sent to an academy at
Florence, but only for a short time. His father's
narrow circumstances rendering it necessary to prac-
tice the most rigid economy, he was soon recalled, to
be educated under the paternal roof. Thus he had
the advantage of constant and affectionate inter-
course with a man of intellectual pursuits, exquisite
taste, and cultivated- mind, at the very time when
his was receiving: its earliest impressions. Especially
to a highly gifted boy, this must ever be of immense
consequence, and ought not to be lightly valued by
BOYHOOD OF GALILEO. 149
any. In this case the charming fruits soon appeared
in Galileo's accomplishments in painting, poetry,
music, and song. He also took great delight in the
classics, and manifested his anxious desire to arrive
at the truth of any subject, by that habit of deep and
resolute inquiry which afterward led to his brilliant
discoveries. His character in boyhood, as in more
mature years, was amiable and generous, so that as
his fame for talent grew and became the theme of
conversation in his native city, the admiration for
his social qualities increased in proportion. No
youth on the fruit-abounding banks of the Arno
received so much praise, or was regarded with more
hope ; and, as time passed on, it added to the in-
terest he excited, and the love he inspired. He
had his name on every tongue his image in every
heart.
Vincenzo was justly proud, as he well might be,
of his son's talents and graces, but his limited income
at first precluded the idea of his being put into any
path of life in which they might be effectually exer
cised. The brilliant Galileo was therefore destine*
for commerce, his parents, perhaps, indulging in the
hope that he might thereby, Solon-like, rebuild th<
shattered fortunes of the Galilei. However, the stu-
dious disposition of the boy, his great promise, and
the advice of friends, at length convinced his fathei
that sacrifices must be made, and, conceiving the in-
terests and happiness of his son to be at slake, he
150 ASTRONOMERS.
reluctantly arrived at the determination of parting
with a portion of his remaining substance, for the pur-
pose of securing Galileo the education essential to
qualify him for a liberal profession. Accordingly he
was, at the age of seventeen, sent to the University
of Pisa to study medicine, and thus enabled to fit him-
self for a walk of life which held out the prospect of
pecuniary profit. In taking this step, Vincenzo, who
had doubtless learned worldly wisdom from sharp ex-
perience, was probably influenced by the consideration
that ere long his son's undoubted abilities would win
him such a celebrity as might cast its rays on, and,
prove advantageous to his other children in their pro-
gress through life. How little did he foresee the
dark stain by which the splendor of that celebrity was
to be tarnished !
Galileo entered the university with a strict in-
junction not to neglect his medical duties for the
more fascinating pursuit of literature, or the attract-
ive study of philosophy ; but, in spite of all warn-
ings, he showed no inclination to devote himself to the
details of the profession for which he was intended.
Iii fact, the established system of education was op-
posed to all his ideas, being utterly at enmity with
that spirit of free inquiry by which he had always been
animated and guided. He did not relish the thought
of being forced to move in a circle like the mill-horse.
Disdaining to be tamely and slavishly led by such
opinions as were then predominant, Galileo first
BOYHOOD OF GALILEO. 151
questioned and then denied their correctness. This
caused great annoyance to the professors, who were
not accustomed to have the opinions they delivered
discussed ; but they had now to do with a youth who
would not tamely submit to the dictation of blind
guides.
At this period Galileo's taste for geometry was
developed by overhearing a lesson given to the pages
of the Grand Duke by the Abbe Ricci, who, happen-
ing to hear of his progress, and being a friend of his
father, encouraged him to persevere, and admitted
him to his class. Galileo entered upon it with de-
votion ; the study of Euclid was succeeded by that of
Archimedes ; and Vincenzo found all efforts to recall
his son's attention to his professional pursuits quite
futile. Under such circumstances, and considering,
perhaps, that he had done something toward invoking
the genius which he could not control, he was fain
to allow the young philosopher to follow the bent of
his own inclination. He was unable, however, to
maintain him at the University, and, being disap-
pointed in his application for a bursary, Galileo, was
obliged to leave without taking his doctor's degree.
While yet a student, he had remarked the isochron-
ism of the pendulum. At that time he was nineteen,
and it happened in this wise. At the western ex-
tremity of the town stands the ancient cathedral of
Pisa, magnificently adorned with statues, paintings,
carvings, and mosaics, the works of some of the
152 ASTRONOMERS.
most famous artists who adorned the Italian repub-
lics in their best and most glorious days. Walk-
ing in its lofty aisle, Galileo was struck with ob-
serving the oscillation of one of the lamps suspended
from the ceiling. Viewing and examining it with
the eye of a diligent inquirer, and experimenting re-
peatedly and carefully, the keen workings of his mind
led him to the discovery of the law of oscillation,
and the most perfect measure of time we yet possess.
Engaged, as he then was, in medical studies, his dis-
covery was first applied to ascertain the rate of the
pulse. In mature years he intended to make use of
the pendulum as the regulator of clock-work; but
he was ignorant of the theory of isochronism as first
developed by Huygens.
Galileo's first essay in science was a paper on the
hydrostatic balance, which fell into the hands of
Guido Ubaldi. That learned Pisan was so much
taken with the originality of thought and patient
investigation it displayed, that he conceived a strong
friendship for its young author, and had him appoint-
ed Lecturer of Mathematics at Pisa. In this posi-
sition, by the daring and ironical nature of his at-
tacks on the mechanical doctrines of Aristotle, he
raised the suspicions and kindled the wrath of a
strong party in the University; but removed from it
in 1592, being appointed by the Republic of Venice
to the professorship of Mathematics at Padua, which
he held for eighteen years, with a popularity so un-
BOYHOOD OF GALILEO. 153
bounded, that his audience had frequently to adjourn
to the open air, the crowds who flocked to listen to
him being far too great to be accommodated in the
lecture- room.
In 1609 occurred his great invention, or re-inven-
tion, of the telescope, of which his brilliant astro-
nomical discoveries were the consequence. The re-
ceived account is, that while at Venice in that year,
a report was brought to the city that an instrument
had been constructed in Holland, and presented to
Count Maurice, which made distant objects appear
near. Setting himself to work with his wonted ar-
dor and ingenuity, Galileo, by applying two spec-
tacle-glasses of a particular kind to a leaden tube,
was soon in possession of an instrument, which mag-
nified three times. In the course of a few days he
presented several such telescopes to the Venetian
Senate, with a paper setting forth the mighty im-
portance of them to science. It was now that "the
Tuscan artist" viewed "from the top of Fesole"
what mortal eye had never before beheld. A French
biographer has thus expressed the wonderful sights
which greeted him :
" The surface of the moon, like another earth,
ridged by high mountains and furrowed by deep
valleys ; Venus, as well as it, presenting phases de-
monstrative of a spherical form ; Jupiter surround-
ed by four satellites, which accompanied him in hia
orbit; the milky way; the nebula); finally, the whole
154 ASTRONOMERS.
heaven sown over with an infinite multitude of stars,
too small to be discerned by the naked eye."
Galileo's discoveries excited great admiration.
Men crowded to see him use this miraculous in-
strument ; and the Senate acknowledged the service
he had done the state by conferring on him his pro-
fessorship for life ; but, by liberal promises, he was
induced to return to his native state, and took up his
residence at Florence, as mathematician to the Grand
Duke. From this date astronomy became his chief,
almost his sole study. But dark days were in store
for him. He was brought before the Inquisition,
charged with what was held the crime of maintain-
ing and teaching the doctrine of the mobility of the
earth and the immobility of the sun. In February,
1616, a Congregation of Cardinals having consider-
ed the charges, decreed that he be enjoined to aban-
don the obnoxious doctrines, and pledge himself, un-
der penalty of imprisonment, not to propagate them
in any way for the future. Next day the great
astronomer did not hesitate to renounce his opinions,
to abandon the doctrine of the earth's motion, and
promise neither to teach nor defend it in time to
come. The Congregation, having disposed of its pro-
mulgator, next proceeded to deal with the doctrine
itself, which was forthwith pronounced to be false,
and contrary to the Holy Scriptures.
Returning to Florence, Galileo resumed his astro-
nomical labors, and for sixteen years was engaged
BOYHOOD OF GALILEO. 155
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 rnano3uvre. 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,
to undertake a journey to Rome. On arrival, he
was put under arrest, and forced to swear on his
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 establish, 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 bis 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 became totally blind. He expired
on the 8th of January, 1642, in the seventy-eighth
year of his age ; and his bones were laid " in Sauta
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 their 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 the
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.
Jarnes Ferguson was born in the year 1710, near
the village of Keith, in Banflshire, 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 means, 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 his
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 effectually, 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 poring 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 was soon so accomplished
as to be sent for the completion of his education to
the grammar-school at Keith, where 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-
ishment 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 effect 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 the
100 ASTRONOMERS.
wheel, and another to the rope coiled 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 as sheep-
boy, he renewed it with a neighboring farmer, whom
he found so kind a master as to indulge him in what
* -V
FERGUSON'S FIRST ATTEMPTS IN ASTRONOMY.
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, opere pcracto ludemus, which is
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. My master, at first,
laughed at me ; but when I explained 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 number 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 questions
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-
ing 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, with whom
he had been for a short time, came 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
tli is man, whom he found most communicative, pro-
ceeded to the minister's, and was conversing with
BOYHOOD 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
sun-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 offer, 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 Jarnes, from motives of gratitude and
respect to his kind master, declined this offer.
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 ge-
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 the
pressing invitations he received to stay at Ackoy-
iianiev, returned to his father's house. The butler,
166 ASTRONOMERS.
at parting, had made him a present of Gordon's
" 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 he 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 in this congenial manner,
however agreeable it might be to his inclinations.
He therefore determined on leaving his parental cot-
tage ; arid thinking it would be an easy arid 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 eat. 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 careful treat
rnent, 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 him into his profes-
sion ; but this he never did. On the contrary, Fer-
guson was kept constantly at hard work ; and, far
from being taught any thing, was 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 hrm to Edinburgh to
be instructed in the art. He followed his new pro-
168 ASTRONOMERS.
fession for twenty-six years with considerable success,
but not with devotion. His astronomical studies had
not, in the mean time, been neglected ; he had still
continued to make observations ou the stars, and was
most enthusiastic in this pursuit Having discovered
the 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 Royal
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 Royal 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
ealutary instruction than that of this self-taught man
of genius. The eagerness with which he sought, arid
BOYHOOD OF FERGUSON. 169
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-debti ved 1*1110.
CHAPTE" VTTT
Natural
BOYHOOD OF SIB, ISAAC NEWTON.
THE name of this great English philosopher is one
of the most illustrious that history presents. The
immortal discoveries his genius effected, the height
of fame he reached, 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 farmer-squire of Lin-
colnshire, who died before the birth of his famous
Bon, leaving his mother a widow a few months after
their marriage ; and had their only child been one
rejoicing venando nut agrum colcndo tetatem agere,
he would, in all probability, have passed through life
in ease, comfort, and prosperity. Perhaps, in such a
BOYHOOD OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 171
case, he might have turned his powerful mind lo 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, he
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 lo
apply himself; and he rather delighted to practice
172 NA FURAL PHILOSOPHERS.
his dexterity in the use of a set of small tools, with
which he gave evidence of a mechanical bent of rnind
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
soiling 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
school 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 FSAAC NEWTON. 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 be-
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 take
vast delight in raising rumors of comets and meteors,
by attaching paper lanterns to the kites on a dark
night. Another 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 de-
vised and formed a dial for his own use. Following
up his success in this respect, he traced out and cor-
rected it by observations which he made in succeed-
L74 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS.
ing years. It was long remembered in the town as
a good time-piece, and known, as a memorial of his
early genius, by the name of " Isaac's dial."
Ordinary boys are animated by a spirit which not
seldom 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 trusting 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 infancy 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 whom he conceived a juve-
nile friendship, which gradually ripened into a more
tender feeling ; but circumstances were adverse, and
it came to nothing.
BOYHOOD OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 1~5
On his arrival at the age of fifteen, his relations
deemed 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, th.it
.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
earnestly 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
difficult 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 his
trusty henchman returned.
It was under such circumstances that an unr:Ie of
176 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS.
his, who was rector of the adjoining parish, found
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-
ed 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 determining that nature had not intend-
ed him for rural honors. He therefore employed his
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 months, and refreshing his
learning, he was, to his joy, sent to Cambridge, and
entered at Trinity College.
Of his studies less is known than 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 NEWTON. 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 course not much unlike to this must keepe :
They ought not small beginnings to despise.
Nor strive to runne before they learne to crcepe
By many single cares together brought
The hand is filled : by handfulls we may gaine
A sheafe : with many sheaves a barne 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
in 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 glimmering of high poetic talent is
somewhat more than doubtful. He mentions in his
note-book the interesting fact that in 1644 he pur-
M
178 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS.
chased a prism, by means of which he investigated
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 Royal 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, which 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 of 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. Reflecting on the power 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 1668, been
appointed to a senior fellowship. Shortly after this
he became Lucasian Professor of Mathematics. In
1694, one of his college friends, Charles Montague,
afterward Earl of Halifax, becoming Chancellor of
the Exchequer, Newton was, by his influence, ap-
pointed Warden of the Mint. This rendered it nec-
essary 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 PHILOSOPHERS.
versity ; and, in 1705, took knighthood from the
hand of Queen Anne, on the occasion of her visit to
Cambridge. He had completed the publication of
his " Principia" in 1687 ; hut, in 1726 was 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
unimpaired 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. He 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-
ing memorial of his boyhood and youth. A brief
inscription, on the statue erected in his own college
at Cambridge, declares him to have surpassed all
BOYHOOD OF GASSEND1. 181
men in genius. In the great and glorious Abbey
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
182 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS.
earned the honor of being designated as " Le meilleur
philosophe des litterateurs, et le meilleur litterateur
des philosophes."
Pierre Gassendi was born in the village of Chan-
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 pleasing
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, was intrusted 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, his
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
BO vast and mighty ! 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
some impulse more powerful than wonder some
search for truth must have urged his nightly wander-
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 companions.
When ten years old he harangued the Bishop of
Digne, during his pastoral visit to Provence : and he
BO 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 village, and the teacher
184 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 Gassendi obtained the
Professorship of Rhetoric 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 chapter
of that town. The year he came of age he was of-
fered at the same time the professorships of philosophy
and theology in the University of Aix ; he accepted
BOYHOOD OF GASSENDI. 1R5
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 what he had read he re-
tained and profited by.
During all the political agitations Gassendi had
been exposed to their violence ; and to recompense
his fidelity, the Duke of Angouleme used his influence
to obtain for him the agency-general of the clergy ;
186 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 de
Retz, and, indeed, of all the celebrated men 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 represeuta-
BOYHOOD OF FRANKLIN. 187
tive 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 douht 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 England
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. Removed
from 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
for candles, filling moulds, going errands, and similar
BOYHOOD OF FRANKLIN. 189
drudgery, conceived so strong a disgust at the busi-
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, arid his
father not relishing 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,
ho 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 Buriyan's
190 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS.
works, subsequently bartered for Briton's " Historical
Collections."
la after years he often expressed his regret that, at
the time when his thirst for knowledge was so great,
books were riot within his reach ; though possibly it
was 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 pursuit of knowledge,
kindly invited him to avail himself of the tolerably
well-stocked library he possessed. The offer thus
made was, of course, gladly accepted and much profit-
ed by. At length 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 FRANKLIN. 191
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 write
no more of them. Moreover, he brought forward
the argument that verse-makers had always been
beggars from Homer downward, which appeared so
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 was shortly turned into new
pastures. An intimate friend being, like himself,
fond of books, was in the habit of arguing with him
on such subjects as struck them in the course of their
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 was 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 fortunately
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
J99 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS.
the matter with his characteristic energy, and had
the good fortune to take for his model one of the best
which the literature 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-Royal Art of Thinking," and
profited by some " Sketches on Logic and Rhetoric,"
which he found at the end of an English Grammar
BOYHOOD OF FRANKLIN. 193
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 different
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 his
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 books, 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 establish 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
chandler refused to enter into the scheme, or advance
196 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS.
the requisite capital, and Franklin was compelled to
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 firs*
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
soon 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, in
1736, its clerk. The Governor placed his name on
the commission of (he peace, the corporation of the
BOYHOOD OF FRANKLIN. 197
cily chose him 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 174G 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, riot very expertly
made by that individual. By the exercise of his
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.
.98 NATURAL PHILOSOPHERS.
In 1783 he signed the treaty of peace with Eri
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, when 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
6e 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."
CHATTER IX.
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
service 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 tb? 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 mathematics,
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 father's objection to
his immediate study of geometry, asked what tho
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
he would fin ' he proportions these figures bore to each
other. ]\ ? y iuther 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, &c. Having thus named
the figures, he made axioms, and, lastly, perfect de-
monstrations. He carried his researches so far, that
VQ2 MATHEMATICIANS.
he had reached the thirty-second proposition of the
first book of Euclid, 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 well 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.
Beingi 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 !" Having
minutely related the interview, his friend advised him
no longer to restrain the youth's inclination, but to
afford him every opportunity of improvement. Our
young mathematician wa? accordingly permitted to
BOYHOOD OF PASCAL. 203
pursue hi& fkvorite 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 1626, 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 different gentlemen were read and criti-
cised ; and, while dtily 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
204 MATHEMATICIANS.
testifies his success. While he was still young the
family removed to Rouen, 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, Torricelli.
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-
choly circumstances under which he wrote them.
BOYHOOD OF D'ALEMBERT. 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 were,
" 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 sublimest minds that ever
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 culture
of literature, science, and philosophy V
BOYHOOD OF D'ALEMBERT.
THIS distinguished 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 bo/n 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 Je
Rond. From this position he was fortunately rescued
206 MATHEMATICIANS.
by the police, who, perceiving that the infant's hie
was in the utmost danger, delivered hina 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 iu 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. When 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 ! ah ! la voila ! 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 unmis
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," says
Lord Brougham, " he had written an able and learned
Commentary on St. Paul's Epistle to the Romany ;
BOYHOOD OF D'ALEMBERT. 207
and, as he showed a general capacity for science, the
worthy enemies of the Jesuits, delighted to 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
rather 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 father
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 heart
and soul to his favorite study. In prosecuting it he
often, like Ferguson the astronomer, made what he
208 MATHEMATICIANS.
believed to be original discoveries, till awakened from
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-mother 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 his
BOYHOOD OF D'ALEMBERT. 209
studies ere long brought him into that notice which
might have heen 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 his
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 1 752, his" Essai sur la Resistance des Fluides."
He was joint-editor with Diderot of the " French
Cyclopaedia," 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, chosen
Secretary to the Academy of Sciences.
He died on the 29th of April, 1783.
O
CHAPTER X.
(Cljcmists.
BOYHOOD OF CAVENDISH.
ABOUT the close of last century an incomprehensi-
ble old gentleman had a mansion close to the British
Museum. 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 little
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 afforded access
BOYHOOD OF CAVENDISH. 211
to 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
noble 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 his
mother, Lady Anne, daughter of Henry Grey, Duke
212 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 probable that he was already musing in
solitude, and, " with thoughts for armies," achieving
BOYHOOD OF CAVENDISH. 213
triumphs 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
] 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
tiou 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, though
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 indifler-
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-
814 CHEMISTS.
pher, who, most likely, was already pondering somi
great chemical experiment.
Cavendish's keen attachment to scientific 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
which men of his station and influence then experi-
enced little difficulty in doing.
It may reasonably be doubted whether his peculiar
bent of mind would not have disqualified him, 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 Royal 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 for 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. S15
His researches soon rendered him a conspicuous per-
sonage 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 efforts 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
so 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 brilliant 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. 217
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 little 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 witli
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
he 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.
my fancy in anticipation of future renown." Nor
was it long in coming.
He cultivated a little garden of his own with great
care, and took delight in 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 wi'th the medical profes-
sion, besides mathematics, languages, history, and
science. He 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 instruction
BOYHOOD OF SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. 219
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 pondering 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 Pneumatic
Institution at Bristol. While 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 Royal 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 the
220 CHEMISTS.
Royal 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 his
illustrious steps.
CHAPTER XI.
Bail ore.
\
BOYHOOD OF LORD ST. VINCENT.
THIS distinguished admiral was early inspired with
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, 1 735, of a family that
had possessed considerable estates in Staffordshire, in
the time of the Plantagenets. He received the rudi-
iKK SAILORS
ments, and, indeed, nearly the whole of his education
at a school in Burton-upon-Tient, which was ever
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-
ish wife. Young Jervis soon {rave 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, who 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,
much to the lad's confusion and discomfiture
" You speak as if you spake through a speaking-
trumpet, sir."
This somewhat cruel interruption effectually si-
lenced the chosen performer of the Greek class, who
did not soon forget the check of the redoubted extractor
of spirits.
In 1745, when Prince Charles carried the standard
of insurrection into the heart 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, who both adhered stead-
fastly to King George and the Protestant succession ;
though branded as Whigs by their playmates foi
BOYHOOD OF LORD ST. VINCENT. 223
doing so, and frequently pelted on account of their
political leanings.
The elder Jervis designed his son 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
Staffordshire, taking with 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 efforts to induce him
to return, but -without effecting 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 character
of the man. Seeing that his purpose was too firm to
224 SAILORS.
be broken, and that 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 of
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 compeers. Nelson's distress was
great ; and we are told of the noble-hearted Colling-
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 offered
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 fears 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. 225
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 bo 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
226 SAILORS.
among men. At one time he was compelled, in or-
der to raise money, to sell his 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 who 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 Ansnn'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. 227
Boscawen was then dispatched from Portsmouth
against the French force collected at the Isle of
Rbee.
When Sir Edward Hawke was sent out to repair
our disasters in the Mediterranean, it was thought so
extremely desirable that Captain Saunders should
be second in command, that a promotion was effected
for that purpose ; and so strongly had that officer,
described by Lord Orford as " the pattern of most
steady bravery, combined with most unaffected 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 the
naval force that was sent to Quebec along with Sir
James Wolfe, Jt-rvis was chosen by the admiral to bo
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
228 SAILORS.
showed his usual sagacious vigilance, and immediately
after the capture 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 1762, 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 re-
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 Usharit,
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 Revolution-
ary war, he was one of the first officers called into
active service, and he was named commander-in-chief
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 ofT Cape St.
Vincent, he was created an earl, deriving his title
from the scene of victory. In 1600 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, hut 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 hoard 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 tne
lasting veneration oi its Lee subject*.
BOYHOOD OF NELSON.
To add to the greatness and glory of his country
was ever the highest object of this most renowned
hero's ambition ; and from his earliest 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 favor 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 sister
of the great Sir Robert Walpole, and the infant, des-
tined for such high renown, was named 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. 231
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 !" 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 different 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 be
educated at North Walsham. in his native county,
232 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 relish 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 w.ite
to his father, and say that he wished so much to go
to sea with his uncle ; arid 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 " Raisonable." 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 ere
long gloriously to vindicate the claims of his country.
BOYHOOD OF NELSON. 23*
He 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 off when it was settled ; and
Nelson disdaining to be idle, went to the West Indies
in a merchant-ship commanded by John Rathborie,
an excellent seaman, who had formerly served under
Captain Suckling as mate. Rathbone having, from
some 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" was 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 hirn to request that
he might be received as a sharer of the danger. There
236 . 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 Nore 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 offSpitzbergen the ice became most alarm-
ing ; 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 huge 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 ofF, 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,
after eighteen 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 the
" Dolphin," he set sail for the land of his birth. His
spirits had sunk with his strength, and an enfeebled
frame and depressed spirits cast a shade over his soul.
The discouraging thought that he should never rise
in. his profession was 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 !" 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 tho
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 for
Jamaica.
Such was the early career of this illustrious man,
whose name was in a few years inseparably blended
with his country's greatness and fame.
" By this time to-morrow I shall have gained a
peerage or Westminster Abbey,' 1 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, il That Admiral Nelson's fame would
be coeval with the British name ; and it would be
remembered he had gained the greatest naval victory
on record, when no man would think of asking whether
he 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, I have done my duty !"
The patriotic devotion he manifested, and the heroic
ardor he displayed, have had their reward in the en-
thusiasm which his splendid name gathers around it,
and the veneration with which it is, and will long be
regarded by all ranks and degrees of his countrymen.
CHAPTER XII.
BolMers.
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,
stirs 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. However,
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-
240 SOLDIERS.
tacks, however ingenious or powerful ; and at a period
when, notwithstanding the humane, but rather an-
achronistic efforts 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 arrned 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 Sir John Drake, said to have been connected with
the famous admiral of that name, who, in the reign
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
4th of June, 1650, and baptized two days after by
the rector of Musbury, the parish in which his grand-
father^ manor-place was situated.
Having thus found his way into the world in which
he was to perform such mighty and imperishable
BOYHOOD OF THK DUKE OF MAULBOKOUGH. 2-11
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 his
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 in
fostering his warlike aspirations ; and in the library
of the old hall he discovered an antique book ou 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 Britaunici/'^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 ver soon
242 SOLDIERS.
won. He immediately manifested his strong and
eager taste for martial affairs by his assiduous attend-
ance on that Prince when he went to review the
troops ; and on such occasions was wont to walch
and admire the regularity of their discipline with an
enthusiasm which did not escape observation. Per-
ceiving the vehement inclination of his page for milf-
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
he might be honored with a pair of colors in the
Guards. His Royal 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 of 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 arid
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 courage
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,
who distinguished him by the title of " the handsome
Englishman," by which he was known throughout
the whole army. Churchill showed much anxiety,
as lie well might, to merit the attention he received
from so great a general, and not only did his duly
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 dillicully 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 offered 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 1682 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 1689 he was advanced to an earldorn, two days
before the coronation of William and Mary ; aud,
BOYHOOD OF THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 245
when war was declared against France, he ct.m-
marided 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 modem 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 afforded 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 IGth 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 the
history of military achievements.
BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTE.
WHEN the island of Corsica was invaded by the
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 the
terror and admiration of the world. When the in-
vasion occurred Charles Bonaparte, still in the pride
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 involun-
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, 1769,
delivered of her second son, Napoleon, destined to be
BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTE. 247
one of the mightiest and most dreaded conquerors
whom the world has ever seen
The peculiar 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
spirit 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 places.
248 SOLDIERS.
But he, the greatest of them all, and by whose
genius they were to be raised, was not there ; for Ins
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 inu*i<-
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-rernernbered re-
treat, with a book spread before 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
in defense of their insular rights and liberties. The
story of his mother's hardships and sufferings, when
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. The:^e
marked the peculiar enthusiasm of his character, and
the boldness with which he expressed his opinions
speedily brought him into notice.
NAPOLEON'S WARLIKE PREDILECTIONS.
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 older 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, 1'ainore a' Giacorainetta."
which being interpreted, is: "Napoleon, with his
stockings half off, makes love to Giacominetta," the
name of the first object of the great conqueror's af-
fection. The Count Marboauf, 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 rise to
extraordinary splendor he confidently predicted. By
the influence of the Count, Napoleon was at the ago
252 SOLDIERS.
of ten admitted to the military school at Brienne, near
Paris. On parting from his mother the pang was
so severe that he wept like an ordinary boy.
On heing 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 indifference which
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 Ird
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
of engineers.
" Oh ! then, he docs learn something," said the
teacher, ironically.
BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTE. 253
" 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 ! 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
254 SOLDIERS.
a garden, in the centre of which he constructed a con-
venient bower, where he could study without the haz-
ard of interruption. He gave his days and nights to
mental toil, aiid 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 of the ladies of Brienne 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 was 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 was one of unusual severity ;
and the boys being precluded from their ordinary walks
and exercises by the fall 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. 255
had so diligently studied the science, that, under his
superintendence, the works were executed in 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 which 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
day of festivity, a large party of ladies and gentlemen
\vore amusing themselves with dancing, but Napoleon
256 SOLDIERS.
declined taking part in it. Oa being rallied for his
want of gallantry, he sternly replied, " It is not by
playing and dancing that a man can be formed."
The Abbe Raynal 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 Stael.
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 hit
new uniform, with epaulets and enormous boots, he
culled 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 effects, he returned to the house, and pre-
BOYHOOD OF BONAPARTE. 257
eented 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 Colombier, 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 industiy. 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
seven 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 1814, 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 was
intended as an adieu could not be ascertained.
CHAPTER XIII.
BOYHOOD OF HANDEL.
Music, it seems, is an attainment denied to well-
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, are 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, 1684 ; and almost in infancy, dis-
played his wonderful taste and extraordinary capacity
for music. Michael Kelly relates of himself, with
200 MUSICIANS.
his usual richness of humor, that, when three years
old, he was accustomed to be placed on his father's
table, 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 hath 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 musical instrument out of the house.
Young Handel's potent genius was not. however, to
be thus baffled or subdued. He enlisted the aid of
a trusted servant, with whose assistance he continued
to indulge and delight in his musical prepossessions*
^ At the top of the house was a solitary garret,
which became the scene of his juvenile efforts.
There he kept a small clavichord, an instrument in
the form of a spinet, with strings so covered with
little pieces of cloth as to deaden or soften the sound.
Upon this, he carefully and industriously practiced
every evening, after the other members of the family
had betaken themselves to repose. Thus he became
BOYHOOD OF HANDEL. 261
a proficient in harmony, without the advantage of
any instruction whatever. For years he carried on
this system ; and the extent of his accomplishments
was first brought to light hy his strong and absorb-
ing interest in music and musical instruments.
An elder brother being in the household of the
Prince of Saxe-Weisserifels, 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 the harpsichord, the
very sight of which had an irresistible fascination for
him. Happening to arrive at the royal chapel just
as the service was concluding, he stole into it unper-
ceived, and commenced playing upon 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 him, 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 be
'TwLxt 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 to
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 satisfactory visit to Florence, from which he
264 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 " Rinaldo" 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 his
eublime oratorio.
BOYHOOD OF 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 displays when a
simple and innocent child appear to have heen 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-
266 MUSICIANS.
ward a Fundamental System for the Violin," which
was much valued.
John Chrysostom 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
affection, 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 talents 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 which was the precursor of the
BOYHOOD OF MOZART. 267
piano-forte. At four he could retain in his memory
the brilliant solos in the concertos, which he learned ;
his 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 so
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 which he applied himself for some time
268 MUSICIANS.
with great diligence, and conceived a strong love for
arithmetic. His energy and determination were such
that whatever he undertook was sure to be accom-
plished, 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 1762, 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. 2G9
ined it with closeness and attention, remarked to his
friend
" See how exactly it is composed by rule ! "Pis
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 !" 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 violin, 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 was finalFy 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.
270 MUSICIANS.
In September, 1762, the Mozart family removed
to Vienna, where they received a gracious welcome
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. He
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 theii
wish.
When Wolfgang had completed his seventh year,
the whole family left Salzburg for Paris. His fame
had preceded him, and the name of the innocent and
affectionate German boy was already celebrated in
the bright and airy city of the Seine. Being intro-
duced by the lady of the Bavarian embassador, he
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 before the public. The
Mozarts had their portraits taken, and poems were
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 snuff-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 their 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 were 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, was 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 we have been in England and France,
and have been at court, and have done ourselves
much honor," said he, playfully.
The little hero felt bis dignity touched, and replied,
" Yet I never remember to have seen you any where
else but at Salzburg."
In 1768 the Mozarts again performed at Vienna
before the Ernperor, but the fame Wolfgang had
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.
nre 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 Rome, 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 was able to note
down the whole piece. On Good Friday the same
" Miserere" was executed, and he was again present
during the performance, and made the necessary cor-
rections in his manuscript. This wonderful feat was
the subject of astonishment and admiration through-
out Rome ; but the greatness of the effort can only
be fully appreciated by such as are acquainted with
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
half an-honr.
BOYHOOD OF MOZART. 275
True to his engagement to the Milanese, he re-
traced his steps to their city, and had what at that
time was considered the highest honor a musician
could enjoy the privilege of composing the first
opera seria for the Roman 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 eaid 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 appropriate, and accordingly the marvelous
Wolfgang journeyed thither, accompanied by his
mother. He returned, in 1779, to his father's house,
and died in his thirty-sixth year, much lamented by
all 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 tour, with the purpose
BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAWRE.NCE. 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, Lawrence
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 BrockettHall, whomhesecret-
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 at>
piring poet that there was something more than ro
mance in 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, 17C9,
278 PAINTERS.
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-
ly afterward removed to the Black Bear at Devizes.
Here he is stated to have worried the temper of his
customers by reciting Shakspeare in and out of season,
and without the slightest regard to their wishes.
Not content with displaying his own powers in this
way, he labored to infuse into his son a love of the
same sort of performance, an object in which he ere
long succeeded ; arid 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 effect,
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
sojourn 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
from a Dissenting minister, was all the education be-
etowed upon a man, whose manners, according to the
BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 279
authority of George the Fourth, were those of a high-
bred gentleman.
When 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?"
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, Mr. Mothven was among his
280 PAINTERS.
early patrons, While wandering through the apart-
ments, 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 Hubens, and on leaving it, ex-
claimed with a sigh full of meaning, " Ah ! 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
Barririgton 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 Shakspeare."
BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 281
In 1782 the Lawrences removed from Oxford to
Bath, where 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. W. Hamilton, and made some copies from
Raphael 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, indued, was one of the great
282 PAINTERS.
elements of his success, and about this period he gave
strong proofs of his capacity. Miss Shakspeare, who
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
effectually 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 his
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 was
a portrait of himself somewhat in the style of Rem-
brandt.
The following extract from a letter, which he at
BOYHOOD OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 283
this 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 me ;
when he saw the crayon-paintings he advised me 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 offered 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 from vanity, nor is it an impulse of the
moment, but what from my judgment 1 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 his
powers as an artist, and especially as a portrait-painter.
About this time his father refused the offer of an
English nobleman to give him the benefit of Roman
284 PAINTERS.
masters ; his answer 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. 285
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
T (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 Royal 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 from Paris by the Prince Regent 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
266 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
in 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 lime
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, in 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 good and worthy man, held as tenant
and cultivator, it having become the property of a
younger branch of the same family. It is important
to bear this in mind when considering Wilkie's dis-
tinguished career, because to almost every man born
north of the Tweed, the feeling of being " a represent-
ative of the past," brings with it ambitious desires
and longings for fame, not seldom productive of splen-
did results. To Wilkie, the birth-place of his fathers
was ever dear ; Gogarburn, a small stream near it,
inspired him with an enthusiasm similar to that felt
by poets for magnificent rivers ; and a gray gable of
the old house, in which his grandsire had dwelt and
practiced all the old-fashioned virtues, attracted his
finest sympathies.
Even after he had won renown, it was a darling
dream to buy back the acres so long held by his race,
build a mansion where the old wall stood, and adorn
it with pictures by himself, recording the ancient
glory of his country, toward which he was, from first
to last, animated by a spirit of ardent patriotism.
From his boyish days he listened with delight to sto-
T
290 PAINTERS.
ries of the heroes 01 poets of the Scottish soil, retain-
ed a preference for his own countrymen throughout
life, and had so little freed himself from his preju-
dices at twenty-eight, that he expresses the mortifi-
cation he felt at his French hostess being ignorant of
the existence of such a place as his native land.
* <
Wilkie's father, after struggles as trying, if not so
severe, as those by which his son impressed his genius
on the hearts of millions, became minister of Cults
on the banks of Eden-water, in Fifeshire. Here the
great painter was born on the 18th of November, 1785,
His mother was the daughter of a Mr. Lister, an
exemplary and sagacious man, who figures in his
grandson's famous picture of Pitlessie Fair ; though,
at the time that distinction was conferred upon him,
he would have been much better pleased with a pros-
pect of the juvenile artist figuring with credit in his
father's pulpit.
But from his infancy Wilkie gave indications, clear
and not to be mistaken, of his turn for that art, of
which, ere long, he became so great a master. The
following is the traditionary account of one of his
very earliest efforts.
When he was a very little boy, Lord Balgonie one
day came into the manse, as a Scottish parsonage is
called. Mrs. Wilkie was burning heather in the
chimney, and David taking out a half-consumed stalk
from the fire, drew a likeness of his lordship's nose,
which is stated to have been a very formidable one
BOYHOOD OF SIR DAVID WILKIE. 291
on the hearth-stone, and then exclaimed, " Mother,
look at Gonie's nose." His lordship was much
amused, and declared the likeness to be most excel-
lent. Somewhat later he adorned the nursery walls
with amusing and fanciful likenesses of his father's
parishioners, which, more than twenty years after,
were, by accident, unfortunately effaced, on the occa-
sion of its undergoing some repairs for a new incum-
bent.
Having been previously taught to read by his
mother, Wilkie was, at the age of seven, sent to
Pitlessie school, the master of which soon perceived
that his pupil was by no means fond of the appointed
lessons ; but rather of drawing heads of the boys on
the slate put into his hands for a very different pur-
pose. However, he speedily acquired favor and rep-
utation with the school-children who, of course, were
not a little proud of having their lineaments trans-
ferred to paper. For each of the portraits, some of
which are still preserved, he levied a marble, or some-
thing of the kind, as a reward for the exercise of his
skill. He practiced his youthful talents by sketching
the boys as they stood in classes, and liked to stand
with his hands in his pockets watching them at play,
or lie on the grass drawing their figures on his slato
as they moved about at their rural games. In the
echool-room he was not reckoned an acute or gifted
boy, and out-of-doors cared not for the sports indulged
in by his hardy comrade?, many of whom, the sons of
292 PAINTERS.
farm-laborers and rural tradesmen, would, in after-
life, find their honest hearts swell with pride at the
eminence attained by him who had, in boyhood, given
them the first idea of the shape of their features tan-
ned with the sun, and of their round heads closely
shorn in some of the village workshops with shears
borrowed from the nearest shepherd.
In 1797 Wilkie was removed to the grammar-
school of Kettle, the master of which, Dr. Strachan,
pronounced him the most singular scholar he had
ever attempted to teach. He himself has been heard
to declare that he could draw before he could read,
and paint before he could spell ; and it appears that
throughout his school-days he was always fortunately
as it turned out, readier to devote himself to the lat-
ter pursuits. Though a quiet, grave-looking boy, he
had ever a keen eye to any thing in the shape of
mischief; and all his sketches, whether of men, or
the inferior animals, had a tendency toward the pecu-
liar style which made his name immortal.
Ever fond of fun and frolic, one of his favorite
armisements was climbing on to the back of an un-
saddled horse, and riding at full speed. This nearly
cost him his life ; for having, when about twelve
years old, fallen, and being dragged for some distance,
he was picked up motionless and insensible. By this
accident he was quite cured of the propensity, and,
indeed, rendered a timid horseman for life. He in-
herited from his father something of a mechanical
BOYHOOD OF SIR DAVID WILKIE. 293
turn of mind, and interested himself in the construc-
tion of miniature mills and other machines. He fre-
quented the workshops of shoemakers, and seemed
disposed to learn their craft ; watched with interest
the weaver's loom ; and was dexterous in handling
the forge-hammer of the village smithy. That such
rough training was of use to him in many different
ways, it is impossible to doubt.
It must be confessed that Wilkie seems to have
been ready for any other occupation rather than the la-
borious studies necessary to have qualified him for the
church or bar the two professions which, his biog-
rapher tells us, were at that period most frequently
resorted to by those in his circumstances. To the
army likewise they often betook themselves ; and
sometimes gained distinction by their courage and
perseverance. But though Wilkie, when at Kettle,
had seen soldiers, and indeed made an expedition to
Kirkaldy, to delight his eyes with a review, the sight
of which, it appears, greatly interested him, he was
not thereby inspired with that love of arms which
makes a youth thirst for military glory. Its chief
captivation and advantage to him seem to have
been in furnishing a subject for the exercise of his
pencil. He sketched the whole scene in a book,
which contains about twenty other drawings, long
regarded by him with natural complacency ; though,
it is said, exhibiting little of that wonderful genius
which afterward brought its possessor such well-
<4 PAINTERS.
merited fame. Yet his talents had already been dis-
played in a manner that filled strangers with surprise,
as the following incident, narrated by one who felt it,
proves :
" I once dined," says the narrator, " at the Manse
of Auchtermuchty, where his uncle, Mr. Lister, was
minister, and was much struck with the likenesses of
his fine young family, which were arranged on the
wall. The minister asked me if I thought them
good portraits, and I stated I thought them the best
of the kind I had ever seen. Upon this he told me
they were done by a youthful nephew of his ; and I
remarked that he would be heard of with honor at no
distant period." Still the artist was a school-boy,
whose parents had not the slightest wish to see him
embark his young fortunes in a profession where
excellence is generally immortality, but mediocrity
hardly less than humiliation. It was, therefore, with
little prospect of being able to make good the fair
promise of his hopeful youth, that he left the gram-
mar-school of Kettle, to be entered at the academy
of Cupar, at which seminary he remained about a
year, and added considerably to his knowledge.
It is related that the President of the Roman
Academy, when conducting the celebrated Allan
Ramsay over the School of Art, in order that the
latter might examine the drawings of the students
therein displayed, hinted, with more pride than pru-
dence, that England could produce nothing to com-
BOYHOOD OF SIR DAVID WILK1E. 295
pare with them. Ramsay's spirit rose indignantly at
the hazardous insinuation ; and he replied, with be-
coming warmth, " Well, sir, stop till I send for my
pupil, Davie Martin, and I will show you how we
draw in England." On the arrival of the latter at
Rome, Ramsay arranged the drawings in proper or-
der, and invited the President and scholars to inspect
and judge of them. "The Italians," he says, with
patriotic pride, " were confounded and overcome, and
British skill triumphant."
This " Davie Martin" being the brother of, and
living with, a neighboring clergyman, exercised no
inconsiderable influence on Wilkie's ultimate choice
of a profession. Indeed he may be said to have
changed his ardent wish to be a great painter into
a fixed and firm resolution. At all events, it is cer-
tain, that the latter became dull and restless unless
he had a pencil in his hand and an opportunity of
using it. Nor was he fastidious about a subject.
Any ruined cottage, or ragged mendicant, or aged
inhabitant of the place, was sufficient ; and, uncon-
sciously to himself perhaps, supplied something to-
ward those charming pictures that were, before many
years, to exhibit the manners, customs, and charac-
teristics of his country in such true and life-like colors.
When he looked at the pictures in the great houses
of the district, the residences of provincial magnates,
he marveled how such effects could be produced, but
soon perceived that it was entirely by study and per-
296 PAINTERS.
severance. Forty years later, he wrote, no doubt
with periect justice, that "his native district could
scarcely supply a work of art by which the eye or the
taste could either be excited or depressed ;" and that
" the single element in all its progressive movements
was persevering industry." Therein, doubtless, he
was right. This " persevering industry" is the true
element of nearly all success in life.
The time had now arrived when Wilkie's aspiring
spirit could no longer brook the thought of being
confined within the parish of Cults. He panted for
new scenes and a larger world, in which to pursue
his studies. So with a book full of sketches from
nature, and a heart irrevocably pledged to art, he
resolved to trust himself in the northern metropolis,
where, he was assured by his friend and adviser Mar-
tin, that he would not seek instruction in vain. It
was in no adventurous spirit, but with that " firm
resolve," of which he often talked, and by which he
hoped to work out the objects he believed himself
capable of accomplishing, that this greater, or, at least,
more various and graceful Hogarth, left the scenes
he had trod from childhood to betake himself to the
romantic city of Edinburgh.
His father, as was natural, looked coldly and doubt-
fully on his son's choice of a profession, deeming it
the height of imprudence to go so far out of his way
to seek that respectable position which seemed to be
before him, if he would only follow the sage advice
BOYHOOD OF SIR DAVID WILKIE. 297
of his grandfather, whose earnest wish was to see one
of his daughter's sons distinguish himself in a pulpit ;
but his mother, who better understood the young
aspirant, sympathized with his views, and encouraged
him to persevere in his chosen course.
On arriving in Edinburgh, in November, 1799,
Wilkie, after some difficulty, and with the aid of
Lord Leven, was admitted to the Trustees' Academy,
where he set himself earnestly and gravely to his
task, and by regularity and diligence made such pro-
gress, that it has been described as almost marvelous.
It is related that he was always the first on the stairs
leading to the Academy, and the last to depart,
anxious not to lose a moment of the hours allowed
for drawing and study. Slow of speech, with a
country air, and bashful of manners, he cared little
for such trifles as pleased and excited the other stu-
dents, but resolutely applied himself to his work, and
for his pains was pelted with small pills of soft bread.
At first he showed very little knowledge of the rules
of art, but surpassed all his companions in the appre-
hension of the character of the subject upon which
he was engaged. After leaving the Academy, he
either repaired to his lodgings to continue his studies,
or to the fairs and markets frequented by the country
people, to make sketches of such characters as might
hereafter be worked into brilliant pictures. He was
peculiarly sensible of the charms of music, and used
to soothe his cares with a tune on the fiddle, whose
298 PAINTERS.
sounds ever afforded him pleasure, and were often
used to put the husbandman, the shepherd, or the
old beggarman, into the particular humor in which
he wished them to appear to suit the purposes of his
art. During his residence in Edinburgh he allowed
no pursuits whatever to distract his attention from
that of painting. He slowly, silently, and studiously,
stored his mind and memory with images of men and
things ; and is thought to have had distant, but en-
chanting and encouraging visions of that beautiful
arid interesting series of pictures, which he afterward
produced and displayed to the gaze of an admiring
public. At a competition in the Academy, he was
unexpectedly unsuccessful with a painting from a
subject in " Macbeth ;" but endured the disappoint-
ment with the characteristic tranquillity, which often
in later days sustained him in more severe trials.
On leaving the Trustees' Academy in 1804, with
the good wishes of all, Wilkie returned to Cults.
John Graham, the master of the Academy, at the
same time wrote to his father, bestowing on him the
high and prophetic praise, that "the more delicacy
was required in the execution of a subject, the more
successful would he be." Still this was a critical
period for the great painter's fortunes, and the danger
of his immense ability proving an immense misfor-
tune was by no means small. How he was to get
into the world of art was a question of the most
gerious kind, and one that dismayed and perplexed
BOYHOOD OF SIR DAVID WILKIE. 299
his anxious father, whose imagination, in all proba-
bility, very much magnified the difficulty, as often
happens in similar circumstances.
However, it was soon solved by a perseverance not
to be conquered, and a love of art which to the la^t
was Wilkie's solace in all trials. He had already
made some progress in portrait-painting. Touched
by the eminence to which it had exalted his country-
man Raeburn, his imagination conjured up visions
of its achieving a similar success for him ; and he
turned his attention earnestly to the subject. He
speedily exhausted the sitters of Cults and Cupar,
then went to St. Andrews, also in his native county,
and afterward to Aberdeen, in search of occupation
for his easel, but without meeting with any such en-
couragement as to tempt further efforts. Conscious,
however, of great talents, and prompted by an en-
thusiastic but definite ambition, he could make cir-
cumstances conform to the end he desired to attain,
and soon gave proofs of his true genius in the original
picture of the " Village Politicians," now so universal-
ly and favorably known. He also executed a small
painting from his favorite author, Allan Ramsay,
and another from the tragedy of " Douglas," both of
which were sold for considerable sums. After these
came, among other productions, "Pitlessie Fair," into
which he introduced about an hundred and forty
figures, mostly likenesses of the parish notables, which
ho had taken at church during service. The latter
300 PAINTERS.
fact connected with the matter was deemed hardly
decorous, and raised loud complaints. The painting
was purchased by Mr. Kinnear of Kinloch, and fur
surpassed in merit any picture of the kind that had,
up to that period, been produced in Scotland. The
people of Fifeshire began to have some faint notion
that their county contained a man capable of winning
renown and adding fresh laurels to its fame. Gray-
headed men sagely and mysteriously observed that
there was something remarkable about the minister's
son of Cults ; and aged women predicted that as
poetry had possessed her Sir David Lindsay, so paint-
ing should ere long have her Sir David Wilkie.
But he who was attracting an attention that might
have turned the head of many at his age, remained
modest, calm, and imperturbable. In fact, he con-
sidered it time to carry his talents where they might
be more profitably and advantageously exercised ; and,
after weighing the matter, determined to set off to
London, for the purpose of entering himself as a
student at the Royal Academy. Having collect-
ed his sketches, drawings, and pictures, and made
due preparation, he sailed from Leith on the 20th
of May, 1805, when nineteen years and six months
old.
Having arrived in London, his first care was to
find a suitable place for exhibiting his paintings.
Having had two or three of them put in a window
at Charing Cross, they soon attracted gazers, and
BOYHOOD OF SIR DAVID WILKIE. 301
the " Village Recruit" was quickly disposed of. At
the Royal Academy he made the acquaintance of his
fellow-students, Haydon and Jackson. The latter
introduced him to Lord Mulgrave, as well as to Sir
George Beaumont, in whom he found a true and con-
stant friend.
The fame of the tall, light-haired Scot began to
creep abroad; his works excited great and deserved
attention, and called forth high praise. And when,
in 1806, his picture of the "Village Politicians" was
exhibited at the Royal Academy, it was hailed with
an enthusiastic burst of applause. His native country,
justly proud of his success, caught up and echoed
the metropolitan praise ; and he himself, though
wisely silent in regard to its acknowledged merits
amid the praises that were heaped upon it by the
press and by the people, who daily crowded to view
the performance, could not help writing to his father
in accents of high hope. " My ambition," he said,
" has got beyond all bounds, arid I have the vanity
to hope that Scotland will one day be proud to boast
of David Wilkie." Assuredly he indulged in no
vain or delusive expectation ; nor was it long ere he
gave a further proof of his great and uncommon
powers. In the very next year the " Blind Fiddler"
sustained and established the reputation of " this
extraordinary young artist," as he was now called
by the critics. Commissions flowed upon him, his
success was beyond all question ; and when only ia
302 PAINTERS.
his twenty-sixth year, he was, to the delight of all
real lovers of art, elected a Royal Academician.
In 1826 he left England for Italy, and passed
some time in studying the old masters. In Spain
he caught the idea of his " Defense of Saragossa,"
the style of which was strikingly different from his
former productions, hut it was, nevertheless, one of
his finest efforts. The surprise a'nd doubt which it at
first raised changed into well-merited admiration as
the great fact became evident, that in attempting a
new style the mighty painter had achieved great and
signal success.
Having been limner to the King for Scotland, he
was, on the death of Sir Thomas Lawrence in 1830,
selected by George the Fourth as Painter in Ordi-
nary to His Majesty ; an office of whose dignity he
had a high opinion, and in which he was continued
by William the Fourth. The latter, in 1836, was
graciously pleased to confer upon him the honor of
knighthood : a distinction with which he was grati-
fied, but by no means unduly elated.
Wilkie had for a long time been threatened with
bad health, and in the end became its victim. In
vain had he betaken himself to foreign lands and
sunny climes. In vain did he go forth to look upon
the old ruined glories of the splendid East. In re-
turning home he expired at sea, without a struggle,
on the 1st of June, 1841, in the fifty-sixth year of
his life.
BOYHOOD OF SIR DAVID WILKIE. 303
On the evening of that day the engines of the
" Oriental" steam-ship were stopped, and the huge
vessel stayed upon her course. The sky was clear
and the ocean calm : the sublime service enjoined by
the Church was read ; and, in the midst of it, his
mortal remains were committed to the waters of the
deep.
When the sad news of his death reached England,
that grief fell upon the public which might well be
caused by the loss of one to whom it had owed so
much and such real gratification ; whom an " ex-
quisite feeling of nature" had enabled to touch the
hearts of all ranks ; whom early training and a fine
perception of character had fitted, above all others,
to be the painter of the people ; and who, when he
was in possession of well-earned fame and honors,
when some of his most cherished dreams were splen-
didly realized, continued the same modest, unassum-
ing individual, as he had been when his pencil traced
grotesque figures on the walls of some Fifeshire manse,
or his Scotch accent and eyes bright with intelligence
amused and charmed the students at the Royal
Academy.
CHAPTER XV.
Sculptors.
BOYHOOD OF CANOVA.
THE little village of Possagno, within the territo-
ries of the once wealthy, powerful, and high-flying
Republic of Venice, enjoys the distinguished honor of
having been the birth-place of this immortal sculptor,
who rivaled the illustrious artists of Greece, and in-
spired fresh life into the expiring arts of Rome. It
is situated in a remote but pleasant district of Italy,
amid the recesses of the Venetian hiils ; and in the
middle of last century consisted of a number of strag-
gling, mud-built cottages. In one of these humble
cabins at that period dwelt Pisano, the grandfather
of Canova, stone-cutter of the locality, as his fathers
had been for generations. The latter circumstance,
with his well-known character for pleasantry and
good-humor, enabled him to exercise a degree of as-
cendency over the villagers, while his skill and dili-
gence recommended him to the employment, favor,
and even friendly regard, of his superiors in wealth
BOYHOOD OF CANOVA. 305
and station. He possessed some knowledge of archi-
tecture, and displayed considerable taste and skill in
executing ornamental works in stucco and marble,
some specimens of which are still to be seen in the
neighboring churches.
Antonio Cariova was born on the 1st of November,
1757. His father Pietro, also a stone-cutter, died
when the future sculptor was three years old, and his
mother marrying again a few months after, left her
son to be brought up by the sagacious Pisano. The
boy being, like many destined to eminence, of feeble
health and delicate constitution, became the object of
the most affectionate care to his grandmother, who
watched over him with the most tender solicitude,
and told him the charming tales, and sang to him the
rich ballads, of his native hills. These inspired him
with a love of poetry, of which he afterward felt and
acknowledged the value ; and no doubt the images
and forms they raised in his imagination contributed
materially to the excellence which characterizes this
class of his works, embodying Italian life and beauty,
the best and most lasting memorials of the genius that
was applauded, while he was but twenty-five, for hav-
ing produced " one of the most perfect works which
Rome had beheld for ages." The venerable matron
lived to see the object of her vigilance prove himself
worthy of it, and he showed his grateful sense of her
more than maternal kindness by sculpturing a bust
of her in the costume of her native province, and keep-
U
306 SCULPTORS.
ing it in his apartments to mark his appreciation of
the services she had rendered him.
When her incessant attention became less neces-
sary, her little charge fell more under the auspices of
Pisano, who, regarding him with no small pride as
his destined successor in the office of hereditary village
mason, was resolved that he should not, for want of
instruction, be deficient in the accomplishments re-
quisite to fill the post with credit and distinction. Al-
most as soon, therefore, as Antonio could hold a pen-
cil, he was initiated into the principles of drawing.
Somewhat later he commenced modeling in clay, and
then learned to fashion the larger fragments of marble
cuttings into ornaments of various descriptions. Of
these almost infantine efforts in sculpture, two small
marble shrines, one of which is inlaid with colored
stones, are still preserved.
While Antonio thus passed his years of childhood
in studious occupation, working in his grandfather's
shop, or listening to the fascinating lore of his grand-
mother, the village boys, whose sports and pastimes
had not the slightest attraction for him, nettled at his
indifference, styled him the "sullen Tonin," the famil-
iar denominative for Antonio, commonly used in the
Venetian State. But when he had won European
fame, and had been elevated to high rank, and loaded
with countless honors, the studio still continued the
theatre of his ambition and the scene of his triumphs.
He cared little for other matters.
BOYHOOD OF CAN OVA. 307
After the completion of his ninth year, Canova ap-
pears to have wrought with his grandfather, no longer
altogether for amusement, but as an assistant in those
labors necessary for the maintenance of the little house-
hold. Still the feeble frame of the boy so nearly dis-
qualified him for such a trade, that Pisano, probably
seeing that his wish could not be fulfilled, indulged
him in modeling flowers, drawing animals, and other
matters congenial to his fine taste and bright fancy.
At the age of twelve he had the good fortune to
attract the notice, and secure the patronage, of the
noble Venetian family of the Falieri, who had a villa
in the neighborhood, to which they were in the habit
of resorting periodically to enjoy the beautiful scenery
and refreshing breezes that its Alpine situation af-
forded. Signer Faliero entertained a sincere respect
ibr the old stone-cutter, and no season passed without
several visits from the latter to the Villa d'Asolo.
Thus young Canova was first introduced to the
notice of the potent senator, with whose second son
he immediately formed u boyish friendship, which
was proof against the influence of time and the dis-
tinctions of rank.
An interesting anecdote is told of the means by
which he impressed his great powers on the convic-
tion of the Falieri. On the occasion of a splendid
banquet, when the feast was set forth and the guests
assembled, the domestics suddenly discovered, to their
horror and confusion, that a crowning ornament was
308 SCULPTORS.
wanting to render the dessert complete. In this grave
emergency old Pisano's aid was invoked, and he rack-
ed his brain to invent something suitable, but to no
purpose. The genius of his grandson, however sug-
gested a remedy, and calling for butter, he modeled
a lion with such surpassing skill and effect that it
excited the wonder and admiration of the guests.
They were filled with curiosity to see the marvelous
boy who, on the spur of the moment, had made so
clever, opportune, and fortunate an effort, and, ac-
cordingly, his presence was demanded. With blush-
ing cheeks and hesitating step, the incipient artist
came to receive the congratulations of the bright and
gorgeous company, and the thanks of the kind and
opulent family, whose head was not slow to recog-
nize and reward this timely service. lie perceived
that the boy was possessed of rare genius ; and, re-
solving to give him encouragement and opportunity
to develop it with advantage, he had him placed
under Toretto the elder, one of the most skillful
Venetian sculptors, who had just come to reside in
the neighborhood. Ever arduous in his pursuits,
Canova employed himself perseveringly under his
new instructor. Many of his drawings and models
still exist in the Falieri family, as well as in the col-
lections of other people ; and among them two draw-
ings in chalk, one representing Venus, the other a
Bacchus, executed only a few days after their author
had been placed with Toretto, but remarkable for
YOUNG CANOVA'S SKILL IN MODELING.
BOYHOOD OF CANOVA. 311
their boldness of style and correctness of outline.
During leisure hours he produced some works, which
raised the hopes of his friends, and led them to an-
ticipate for him great success. The most memora-
hle of these were the models in clay of two angels,
executed without assistance from any other figures,
and therefore original efforts of his -creative mind.
Having been produced during a brief absence of To-
retto, and hastily finished, they were placed in a con-
spicuous position in the workshop to await his experi-
enced judgment When the sculptor's eyes caught
the productions of his pupil's genius, he is said to
have been entranced, and to have exclaimed, " This
is, indeed, a most astonishing work." It was with
no small difficulty that he could be persuaded of
their being in reality the result of a boy's labors.
Soon after this Canova made his first essay to
represent the human form in marble, in hours not
devoted to the more mechanical duties of his pro-
fession, and he received the best mark of Toretto's
esteem in being adopted as a son, with permission to
bear the name a privilege that he never took ad-
vantage of.
His engagement with Toretto, during which he
had made no inconsiderable progress, was termin-
ated by the removal of the latter ; and all hope of
Toretto's aid proving of avail being abruptly cut off
by his death, there appeared imminent danger of
the aspiring sculptor, having to retire to his grand-
312 SCULPTORS.
lather's workshop, and endure the misery of his tal-
ents being buried in the obscurity of his native vil-
lage. It was, therefore, with a delight of no ordi-
nary kind that he received an invitation from his
noble patron to repair to Venice, where he joyfully
went in his fifteenth year.
It would be amusing to speculate on the emotions
with which the youth, from a village in the recesses
of the hills, must have contemplated the beautiful
city, with its Rialto and numerous other bridges, its
magnificent piazza of St. Mark's, and its elegant
palaces, adorned with marble fronts and with pillars
exhibiting the various orders of architecture, or those
lustrous chambers hung with gilding and tapestry,
in which the privileged commercial aristocracy main-
tained a splendor that threw the old rural nobility
into the shade.
Canova was forthwith introduced to the Academy
of Fine Arts, whose character he subsequently did so
much to raise, and had a residence in the palace of
his patron. These attentions, far from spoiling him,
seem only to have stimulated his exertions ; he ap-
plied himself to his beloved art with exemplary dili-
gence, studied at all hours, and exercised his powers
in every way likely to lead to their growth and im-
provement. The gallery of the palace, at that time
belonging to the Farsetti, divided his attention with
the Academy. This noble institution was thrown
open to youths desirous of studying the fine arts:
BOYHOOD OF CANOVA. 313
and they were, without expense, supplied with every
requisite for study, and with the assistance of an able
director. Canova's regularity and industry attracted
the attention of the magnificent owner, alike distin-
guished by knowledge of literature and taste in art,
for whom he sculptured in marble two baskets filled
with different fruit and flowers. They still remain,
though somewhat injured, on the balustrade of the
grand stair leading to the gallery, whose treasures are
unfortunately dispersed.
While studying here, he formed a strong and fan-
ciful attachment, which gave a color to his life, and
aided in the formation of some of his finest concep-
tions. One day he obsei ved a mild, beautiful, delicate,
graceful-looking female enter the gallery, attended by
a friend, who daily departing returned before the hour
of closing, leaving the former to employ herself in
studies, which chiefly consisted in drawing from an-
tique heads. His eye was arrested, as the eye of genius
only can be, and his heart touched with such sym-
pathetic sensations as the pure alone can feel. For
some time he worshiped her at a distance, as an In-
dian does a star. Accident first placed the youthful
pair near each other, and henceforth Canova was ir-
resistibly attracted to select such models as brought
him nearest the fair unknown. Once, while leaning
on the shoulder of her attendant, she praised his work
in accents that were like angelic, music to his ear,
and long treasured up in the most coiisecruU'd
314 SCULPTORS.
of his memory. At length this object of his mute
adoration was absent, and the young and aspiring
sculptor was inconsolable. Ere long, however, the
attendant appeared, but alone, and habited in deep
mourning. Canova's heart failed at the sight ; but
mustering up courage as she was departing he ven-
tured to inquire for her friend. " La Sign&ra Julia
is dead," replied she, as, bursting into tears, she hur-
ried away, leaving the artist to subdue and digest his
agonizing grief.
One could have imagined Canova, who, in after
years, twice on the eve of marriage, was effectually
appalled by the fear of matrimony diverting his at-
tention from his professional pursuits, free from the
weakness of having indulged in such dreams ; but the
reverse seems, in some measure, to justify the poet's
question
" In joyous youth, what soul hath never known,
Thought, feeling, taste, harmonious to its own?
Who hath not paused while beauty's pensive eye
Asked from his heart the homage of a sigh ?
Who hath not owned, with rapture-smitten frame,
The power of grace, the magic of a name ?"
However, Canova did not ;< haunt the gloomy shrine
of hopeless love," but the form of the fair student of
ancient art is said to have been present to his imag-
ination iu the hours of severe thought and solitary
labor, wherein he prepared for the world those proofs
of genius which have exalted him on so elevated a
BOYHOOD OF CANOVA. 315
pedestal of fame. His ambition continued to wax
stronger as his experience increased, and perpetually
prompted him to great exertions. Nothing, indeed,
could surpass the ardor of his aspirations and the rest-
lessness of his spirit, which enthusiastically longed
for that fame, of whose arrival it was prescient. Ere
long, conceiving himself qualified to perform some-
thing worthy of his ambition, he modeled the " Group
of Orpheus and Eurydice," large as life, and carved
it in soft Venetian stone. It was exhibited in 1 776,
on the annual festival of Ascension, when it was cus-
tomary for artists to expose their recently finished
works to public view in the square of St. Mark's.
On its being received with great applause, he raptur-
ously exclaimed, " This praise has made me a sculp-
tor." He soon after opened his first studio, and his
next work was a statue of Esculapius in marble,
which was visited by him a few months previously
to his death. On surveying it he declared sorrowfully,
" For these forty years my progress has not corres-
ponded with the indications of excellence in this work
of my youth."
Meantime he studied diligently among the remains
of ancient art, and stored his mind from nature with
images of loveliness, to be used when a fitting occa-
sion offered itself of presenting them. The people of
Venice felt the beauty of Canova's works, and re*
warded their merit with a small pension on his de-
parture for Rome, in the twenty-fourth year of his life.
316 SCULPTORS.
There he found a kind and active friend in Gavin
Hamilton, the Scottish painter, author of " Schola
Italica Picturae," and a cordial welcome from the
sculptors of the capital. The Venetian Embassador
introduced him to the society of the learned and noble,
besides giving him a commission for a group of The-
seus and the Minotaur in marble, which he executed
with brilliant success. It was exhibited by torch-
light, in the summer of 1782, at a banquet given on
purpose by the Embassador to the first men in Rome ;
who, with one voice, bestowed on it the highest praise.
His subsequent career was a succession of triumphant
achievements in art. His fame traveled over Europe.
The King of England and the Emperor of France
became his zealous patrons; the Pope in 1810 con-
ferred the title of Marquis of Ischia, along with a pen-
sion, and refused to allow his choice works to go out
of Rome ; and he, whose grandfather's ambition had
been to see him mason of an obscure village, died on
the 13th of October, 1822, in possession of numerous
distinctions, boundless honor, and imperishable fame.
No better instance could be produced of the might
of genius, when true to itself; and the power of in-
dustry, when fairly directed.
BOYHOOD OF THORWALDSEN.
WHILE Canova was studying in the stately palace
of the Falieri, gazing with delighted eye on their noble
specimens of art gliding in their long, narrow gon-
dola, beneath the Rialto, or Bridge of Sighs and
surveying with a feeling of pleasing wonder the
magnificent church of St. Mark, and the other rare
works of architecture in which Venice abounded, a
nascent sculptor, destined for half a century to charm
the hearts of men with the beauty of his designs, was
passing a somewhat miserable childhood in the
marsh-surrounded capital of Denmark.
Bertel Thorwaldsen was born in the year 1770 ;
but the story of his birth having taken place at Sea,
appears to be altogether fabulous. Though in a
lowly sphere during boyhood, and wretched from the
poverty of his father's household, and other circum-
stances, he is said to have derived his descent from a
family of noble blood, many generations of which had
lived and died in Iceland. It is interesting to know
that one of its members had been famous for his skill
in sculpturing images as early as the twelfth century.
Thorwaldsen's father had been forced when young
to leave his native Myklabai, and seek employment
as a carver of wood ; though it does not appear that
he was distinguished for any thing approaching to
excellence in the craft.
318 SCULPTORS.
Young Bertel had little or no education, except
such as he received foora his mother, the daughter of
a Jutland peasant. Indeed it was so defective that,
on going to Rome, at twenty-seven, he was under the
necessity of learning the grammar of his own coun-
try's language Moreover, he was so indiffeient a
penman, that whenever he had occasion to enter into
correspondence, in after life, he was fain to borrow
the services of a friend ; and when this was not in
his power, he was often obliged to write a letter three
or four times before producing one creditable enough
to be dispatched. Nevertheless Thorwaldsen's artis-
tic talent soon became apparent ; his father impart-
ed to him as much knowledge of drawing as he
himself possessed ; and, in his eleventh year, he was
admitted as a pupil in the drawing-class of the public
Academy. While attending it, he employed his
time to such good purpose, that he soon became em-
inently useful to his father in the carving of figure-
heads for ships, and turned his talent for drawing to
such an account, that the wood-carver's business was
much increased, both in extent and remuneration.
The latter, being unfortunately inclined to idleness
and dissipation, and finding his son's labors so ex-
tremely useful and profitable, was selfish enough to
monopolize the whole of the boy's time that was not
occupied with lessons at the Academy. And Bertel
was merely remarked by his townsmen as a tall, fair
lad, with mean clothes, and uncombed hair, who
BOYHOOD OF TIIORWALDSEN. 319
carried his father's tools when he went to the dock-
yards, assisted him when at work in the stall, or ac-
companied him when taking mirror -frames to some
neighboring shop.
In 1785 he was promoted to the modeling class,
and thus had new opportunities of improvement pre-
sented. But his father, who ever stood in the way
of his son's genius having fair play, removed him
from the Academy, and confined him to his own trade
for a space of two years.
It was fortunate, however, that Thorwaldsen's
friends at the Academy had marked and appreciated
his remarkable abilities. Indignant that so unques-
tionable a genius should be unworthily and prema-
turely lost, they exerted themselves so strenuously to
recall him to the proper scene of his studies, that
they at length succeeded ; and from this point, in
spite of all drawbacks, his progress was so cheering
and continuous, that in his nineteenth year he had
the satisfaction and encouragement of gaining a prize
for modeling.
Two years later he became a candidate for the
smaller gold medal of the Academy. One of the
conditions of the artistic contest was, that each aspi-
rant should shut himself up in a room, and there,
with no aid nor prompting, save those of dexterity
and genius, prepare a model on a given subject
This trial nearly proved too much for Thorwaldsen.
When left alone to his meditations, his confidence
320 SCULPTORS.
quite forsook him ; and he conceived so much alarm
at the seventy of the ordeal, that he left the apart-
ment, and escaped down a side stair. Luckily for
himself and his art, he encountered, under the arch-
ed doorway of the building, one of the professors,
who at once recognized him. This learned worthy,
feeling a sincere interest in Thorwaldsen's welfare,
questioned him closely as to his reason for losing
hope, obtained a full confession, pointed out the folly
of the course he was taking, and urged him to return
with so much earnestness, that the young sculptor
went back to his post. Within four hours he exe-
cuted a sketch which put all his doubts and fears to
flight, and rendered him successful against all com-
petitors.
After this well-merited triumph Thorwaldsen's
prospects brightened, patrons of art began to smile
upon him, and he was employed in modeling by the
court architect. Besides, he earned money, and got
into better society, by taking likenesses, and giving
lessons in drawing ; and he looked forward with hope
and courage to carrying off the great gold medal of
the Academy the highest distinction within the
students' reach.
This he accomplished with honor in his twenty-
third year ; and henceforth his position was more
pleasant and tolerable. In fact his income was now
considerable ; and, not to mention sentiments of a
more tender kind, his friendships were so unchanging,
BOYHOOD OF THORWALDSEN. 321
that he did not, at that period, take advantage o the
traveling pension for three years, attached to the prize
he had won.
However, some years afterward, he determined to
avail himself of the privilege, and his application for
it was immediately granted, along with that of a free
passage to the Mediterranean in a Government frigate.
On arriving in Rome, Thorwaldsen presented him-
self to the Danish consul, to whom he had been rec-
ommended. That functionary recognized, at once,
his want of education and his remarkable talents.
The sculptor was still awkward, reserved, and uncul-
tivated in manner. Moreover, he was in too many
respects careless end indolent ; but these reprehensi-
ble habits seem to have arisen chiefly from his utter
indifference to all subjects except that to which his
attention was directed, and with which his name is
associated, because all indolence speedily disappeared
when he was in the presence of the monuments of
ancient art that remained in Rome ; and he set him-
self to copy and model, with the eye, hand, and spirit
of a true artist. The times and circumstances were
provokingly unpropitious ; and though his first great
worK, " Jason," was much admired, it stood for years
in clay, without being commissioned. He had al-
ready through the influence of his friends obtained and
exhausted a prolongation of the time, during which
the Danish Academy's traveling pension was allowed,
and matters still wearing a gloomy appearance, he
X
322 SCULPTORS.
resolved, though unwillingly, to retrace his steps to
his native land. Preparations, with that view, had
actually been made, when Mr. Hope, the author of
" Anastasius," visited his studio, and commissioned
his Jason for 800 zecchins.
On this, Thorwaldsen instantly abandoned his idea
of returning to Denmark, and devoted himself to his
art with consummate success. It was not till his fif-
tieth year that he revisited the scenes of his sad and
dispiriting boyhood. Then, indeed, those whom he
would naturally have desired to please, and who, be-
yond all others, must have been gratified with his suc-
cess, had gone where the weary are at rest. The
mother had died of something like a broken heart ;
arid the father soon after breathed his last in an alms-
house, feeling perhaps, not without a cause indig-
nant, that he should have been allowed to be in such
a place. But the son had meantime, by the exercise
of his natural gifts, won a famous name, and estab-
lished a European reputation. His creative faculties
continued unimpaired and productive to the end of his
long life; and he died in the year 1844, having, in
spite of inauspicious influences and multitudinous dis-
advantages, raised himself from the chill, dishearten-
ing atmosphere of a carver's stall to the highest honor
among artists, fascinated the world with the emana-
tions of his rich genius, and earned for himself a splen-
did and wide-spread fame.
CHAPTER XVI.
BOYHOOD OF SIR WILLIAM JONES.
DR. JOHNSON says, that " to think in solitude, to
read and to hear, to inquire and to answer inquiries,
is the business of a scholar. He wanders about the
world without pomp or terror, and is neither known
nor valued but by men like himself."
Such, however, was not the case with Sir William
Jones, notwithstanding his extraordinary love of let-
ters and learning. As a lawyer he enjoyed a fair
share of practice, wrote the " Essay on Bailments,"
considered the best law-book in the English language,
and finally obtained the object of his ambition, an
Indian judgeship.
His father, a native of Anglesey, was an eminent
mathematician in London, where the future scholar
was born in the year 1746. When only three years
old he lost his father ; but it was his good fortune to
have a mother of strong mind, sound sense, and con-
siderable acquirements, who inspired him with Chris-
324 SCHOLARS.
lian piety and a taste for learning. Even at that
early age he became remarkable for his industry in
searching for knowledge ; and when he applied to his
mother for information on any subject, her constant
answer was, " Read, and you will know." The words
sank deep into his heart, and formed his rule through-
out life so completely, that within a week of his
death on the banks of the Ganges, he was busily oc-
cupying himself with the study of books relating to
several Oriental dialects. In his fifth year his imag-
ination was captivated, and his heart lastingly im-
pressed, with the sublime description of the descent of
the angel in the tenth chapter of the Apocalypse.
When he had reached the age of seven, he was
sent to Harrow, and put into a class so much beyond
his years, that all his companions had the advantage
of him in previous instruction. This, as Sir Walter
Scott has shown, is a perilous position for a boy ;
but nothing could daunt the diligence of Jones, who
straightway procured the grammars and other books,
the knowledge of which rendered his class-fellows his
superiors, and studied them so resolutely, that ere
long he began to shoot ahead of the other boys, and
in due time was regarded as the pride of the school.
His companions and teachers were alike struck by
the wonderful diligence and talents he brought to
bear on his studies. So great, indeed, was his devotion
to study, that he was in. the habit of sitting up for
whole nights over his books, and defying sleep by the
BOYHOOD OF SIR WILLIAM JONES. 32.'
aid of tea. His labors encountered for the sake of
learning far exceeded the tasks he had to prepare for
school ; and, even then, he made so much progress
in legal knowledge as to be able to put to his com-
panions cases from an abridgement of " Coke's Insti-
tutes." One of his Harrow contemporaries, after-
ward Bishop of Cloyne, describes him at eight or
nine as an " uncommon boy ;" and in writing of his
subsequent school career, he says
" Great abilities, great particularity of thinking,
fondness for writing verses and plays of various
kinds, and a degree of integrity and manly courage,
distinguished him even at that period. I loved and
revered him ; and though one or two years older than he,
was always instructed by him from my earliest age."
" To exquisite taste and learning, quite unparal-
leled," writes Dr. Parr, another of his schoolfellows,
"Sir William Jones is known to have united the
most benevolent temper and the purest morals."
Dr. Thackeray, at that time master at Harrow,
declared the mind of Jones to be so active, that if he
were left naked and friendless on Salisbury Plain,
he would, nevertheless, find the road to fame and
riches.
On leaving school, his relations wished him to be
placed forthwith, to be initiated into the mysteries of
law by a special pleader, but he was entered at Uni-
versity College, Oxford, in 1762. He there, besides
complying with the discipline of the place, and con-
328 SCHOLARS.
tiliuing his classical studies, made great progress in
the languages of modern Europe. He had, during
his leisure hours at Harrow, learned the Arabic char-
acters ; and he now, with the assistance of a native
of Aleppo, applied himself to the study of the Oriental
languages, of which he afterward possessed a knowl-
edge so marvelous. His accomplishments, indeed,
were great and various. He seems to have aspired
to
"The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye. tongue, sword,"
in fact, to being a sort of modern Admirable Crich-
ton ; for, during the vacations spent in London, he
had himself instructed in fencing and horsemanship,
occupied himself with the best authors of Italy,
France, Spain, and Portugal ; a year or two later he
seized the opportunity, being in Germany, to learn
music, dancing, and the art of playing on the Welsh
harp ; he studied Newton's " Principia," and attended
the lectures of Dr. William Hunter, on Anatomy.
Well, indeed, might he boast, when writing to a
friend, that with the fortune of a peasant he was giving
himself the education of a prince.
In 1765 he became private tutor to Lord Al-
thorpe, whom he accompanied to Spa. On return-
ing, he resided with his pupil at Harrow, where, at
the request of the King of Denmark, he translated
the " Life of Nadir Shah," from Persian into French.
Shortly after this he resigned his tutorship, and
BOYHOOD OF SIR WILLIAM JONES. 327
entered himself as a student of law at the Temple,
in compliance with the request of his friends.
" Their advice," he writes, " was conformable to
my own inclinations ; for the only road to the highest
stations in this country is that of law, and I need
not add, how ambitious and laborious I am." And
later, " I have learned so much, seen so much, said
BO much, and thought so much, since I conversed
with you, that were I to attempt to tell half what I
have learned, seen, writ, said, and thought, my letter
would have no end. I spend the whole winter in
attending to the public speeches of our greatest
lawyers and senators, and in studying our own ad-
mirable laws. I give up my leisure hours to a polit-
ical treatise, from which I expect some reputation ;
and I have several objects of ambition which I can
not trust to a letter, but will impart to you when we
meet."
Notwithstanding his numerous avocations, he pre-
pared for publication a collection of poems, consisting
chiefly of translations from the Oriental languages,
which appeared in 1772, when he was elected a Fel-
low of the Royal Society. Two years later appeared
his celebrated commentaries, " De Poesi Asiatica,"
which gained him much and wide-spread fame.
On being called to the bar, he relinquished for a
while his literary pursuits, devoted himself with assi-
duity to his legal functions, and was, without solici-
tation, appointed a Commissioner in Bankruptcy. In
328 SCHOLARS.
1788 he published his translation of the " Isseus,"
which displayed much profound and critical research,
and excited great admiration. He realized the grand
object of his ambition in being appointed a judge of
the Supreme Court of Judicature in Bengal in 1783.
On arrival in India he established the Asiatic Society,
and studied the Sanscrit and Arabic languages with
great success, and undertook to superintend a digest
of the Hindoo and Mohammedan jurisprudence. He
did not, however, live to fulfill his intention, being
cut off on the 27th of April, 1794.
His acquirements as a linguist were almost miracu-
lous, and embraced the knowledge of twenty-eight
different languages, the result of diligent labor, in-
tense study, and matchless regularity ; and of a fixed
determination never to allow any difficulty that could
possibly be surmounted to bar his onward course.
The maxim of this great man was, never to neglect
any opportunity of improvement that presented itself;
and he acted upon it with a vigor, earnestness, and
success, which may well tempt the juvenile scholar
to do likewise ; to emulate the industry by which he
acquired his spotless fame, and the faith which he so
strictly maintained with his neighbor and his God
BOYHOOD OF DR. ARNOLD.
THE boyhood of this great and good man was char-
acterized rather by freedom and honesty, a sanguine
temperament, and great capability of" growth," than
by any such brilliancy as might have been expected
in one afterward so distinguished.
But the aspirations after distinction he displayed,
even in childhood, and his early interest in some of
the subjects, with which he subsequently connected
his name, are in an eminent degree worthy of remark,
study, and consideration.
" Few men of Arnold's station," it has been said,
" have been so much before the public during their
lifetime, and in so many ways. He was the first
English editor of Thucydides, and the first accom-
modator of Niebuhr to English tastes and under-
standings. He was also, for some fourteen years, the
prince of schoolmasters on that most trying of all
stages an English public school ; and he lived to
stand forward almost as long an uncompromising
opponent of the new form of Oxford priestcraft."
Thomas Arnold was born on the 13th of June,
1795, at West Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, where
his family, originally from LowestofF. in Suffolk had
been settled for two generations. His father was
Collector of Customs at Cowes, and had six children,
besides the eminent scholar, whose early education
330 SCHOLARS.
was intrusted to his mother's sister. This worthy
spinster watched over and directed his childish studies
with affectionate care and gratified pride; and he
soon began to exhibit symptoms of no ordinary capac-
ity. He was especially remarkable for his early at-
tainments in history and geography. His wonderful
memory, which early displayed its powers in regard
to these subjects, enabled him to remember having,
when three years old, received a present of Smollett's
" History of England" as a reward for his accuracy
in going through the stories connected with the vari-
ous reigns ; and, at the same age, he used to sit at
his aunt's table arranging his geographical cards, and.
recognizing, by their shape, at a glance, the different
counties of the dissected map of England.
During his residence in the Isle of Wight, which
was in a season of war, he of course saw much of
naval and military affairs, and was quite captivated
with such scenes ; indeed, they gave a color to his
powerful mind, which time could never efface. The
sports in which he chiefly indulged with the few com-
panions of his childhood were the sailing of small
ships in his father's garden, and, as if his future pur-
suits were herein foreshadowed, acting the battles of
Homer's heroes with whatever implements could be
used as spear and shield, and reciting appropriate
speeches from Pope's translation of the Iliad. Before
he had reached his seventh year, he had composed
a little tragedy on Percy, Earl of Northumberland,
BOYHOOD OF DR. ARNOLD. 331
which has been preserved, and is said to show great
accuracy and precision in the writing and arrange-
ment of the acts and scenes. He always looked back
upon these early years of his existence with a peculiar
tenderness ; and when settled in life, delighted to
gather around him memorials of his father's house-
hold, treasured up every particular of his own and
his forefathers' birth and parentage, and even trans-
planted shoots of an aged willow in his father's grounds,
to the places where he subsequently resided at Lale-
hatn, Rugby, and Fox How. In the same spirit he
carefully preserved and left, in his own hand-writing
for the information of his children and descendants,
every date and circumstance in the history of the
family to which he belonged.
Arnold's father died in 1801 ; and, two years later,
the young scholar was sent to Warminster School, in
Wiltshire, with the masters of which he kept up a
continual intercourse long after they had parted.
He always retained a pleasant recollection of the
books to which he had access in the library, and
when in his professional chair at Oxford, quoted from
the memory of what he had read there when he was
eight years old. In 1807 he entered Winchester as
& commoner, and afterward became a scholar of the
college. He had always been excessively fond of bal-
lad poetry, much of which his new schoolfellows
learned from his recitation before they had seen it in
print ; and his own boyish efforts at rhyme all ran in
332 SCHOLARS.
that style. From producing a play, in which his
schoolfellows were introduced as the dramatis per-
sona, and a long poem, entitled " Simon de Mont-
fort," in imitation of " Marmion," he received the
appellation of Poet Arnold, to distinguish him from
another boy of the same surname. He now diligent-
ly studied Russell's " Modern Europe ; " he read
Gibbon and Mitford twice before leaving school ;
and in his letters written from Winchester, which
are considered like those of a person living chiefly in
the company of his seniors, and reading or hearing
read such books as are suited to a more advanced
age, are passages highly interesting when considered
in connection with the important labors of his ma-
ture years. His manner, which afterward became
joyous and simple, was characterized by stiffness and
formality at the time of his departure from Winches-
ter. This took place in 1811 ; but he ever cherished
a strong feeling of affection for the venerable institu-
tion, and when at Rugby would recur to his knowl-
edge of the constitution of a public school, acquired
while taking the Wykehamist stamp.
In his sixteenth year he was elected a scholar of
Corpus Christi College, Oxford, though opposed by
several very respectable candidates. He was then a
mere boy in appearance ; but it soon turned out that
he was quite ready and equal to taking his part in
the argument of the common room. At Oxford he
formed friendships which cxercMsed a great influence
BOYHOOD OF DR. ARNOLD. 333
on his career ; and conceived an affection for the
place, which seems never to have faded from his
heart. The inmates of the college lived on the most
familiar terms with each other ; they took great inter-
est in ancient and modern literature ; they debated
all the exciting questions of the day ; they fought
over the battles and sieges of the period ; and they
discussed poetry, history, and other subjects, with
great energy and zeal. Their habits were temperate
and inexpensive ; but one break-up party was held in
the junior common room, at the end of each term,
when their genius and merriment were freely in-
dulged. Arnold, it is stated, was not a formed scholar
when he entered the University, and his compositions
hardly gave indications of the excellence he was to
arrive at. The year following he was an unsuccess-
ful competitor for the Latin verse prize. Several
poems of his written about this period are pronounced
by Mr. Justice Coleridge to be neat and pointed in
expression and just in thought, but not remarkable
for fancy or imagination. Years after, he told that
eminent individual, that he continued the practice of
verse-making, " on principle," as a useful and human-
izing exercise. Yet, though not a poet himself, he
loved the poetry of others, and was sensible of its
beauties.
But his passion at that time was for Aristotle and
Thucydides. He became deeply imbued with the
language and ideas of the former, and his fondness
334 SCHOLARS.
for the latter first prompted a " Lexicon Thucydide-
um," which ended in his valuable edition of that
author. Next to those, he loved Herodotus, whose
manner, as that of Thucydides, he had so thoroughly
studied and so much enjoyed, that he could, with
wonderful facility and accuracy, write narratives at
pleasure in the style of either. During his residence
at Oxford, a small debating club called the Attic
Society, which was the germ of the Union, was
formed, and held its meetings in the rooms of the
members by turns. Arnold was among its earliest
members ; but was an embarrassed speaker, partly
from his bashfulness, and partly from his repugnance
to introduce any thing in the slightest degree out of
time or place.
His bodily recreations were walking and bathing.
He was particularly fond of making what he called
a skirmish across the country with two or three of
his chosen comrades, leaving the highroad, crossing
fences, and leaping or falling into ditches. Though
delicate in appearance and slight in form, he was
capable of going long distances and bearing much
fatigue, and while out in this way, he overflowed
with mirth and spirits. From his boyish days he
had a great difficulty in early rising ; and though
this was overcome by habit, he often said that early
rising was to him a daily effort.
In 1814 Arnold's name was placed in the first
class in Litterse Humaniores. Next year he was
BOYHOOD OF DR. ARNOLD. 335
elected a fellow of Oriel College, which numbered
among its members some of the most rising men in
the University ; and he gained the Chancellor's prize
for the two University essays, Latin and English, for
the years 1815 and 1817.
He remained at Oxford four years after the former
date, taking private pupils, and reading extensively
in the libraries. The privilege of doing so he never
ceased to remember with satisfaction, and always
attempted strongly to impress upon others the import-
ance of duly taking advantage of it. The results
of his industry still exist in a great number of manu-
scripts, both in the form of abstracts of other works,
and original sketches on history arid theology. He
endeavored, in his historical studies, to follow the
plan, which he afterward recommended in his lec-
tures, of making himself thoroughly master of one
period ; and the fifteenth century, with Philip de
Comines as his text-book, is stated as having been
the chief sphere of his studies during his last years
at Oxford.
In 1819, having the year previously been ordained
deacon, he settled at Laleham, near Stains, where
he resided for the next nine years, receiving into his
house seven or eight young men as pupils to prepare
them for the University. His attachment to this
place was great ; and after being elected to the head-
mastership at Rugby, and removing thither in 1828,
he cast back many a fond, lingering look to the favor-
336 SCHOLARS.
ite views, the sequestered walks, the pleasant gar-
dens, and the quiet church-yard, which contained the
ashes of some of his nearest and dearest relatives. In-
deed, he long contemplated returning to it to spend
his last days ; but, in 1832, having been induced to
purchase Fox How, a small estate in Westmoreland,
near Rydal-Mount, he usually spent thejiolidays there
during the thirteen years of his head-mastership at
Rugby.
On the 12th of June, 1842, this "prince of school-
masters" died suddenly in his forty-seventh year, and
just the day before he was to set off" to spend the
vacation at his retreat in Westmoreland, having dis-
tinguished himself, not more by his learned achieve-
ments in producing the first English edition of Thu-
cydides, and in first accommodating Niebuhr's theory
of the early history of Rome to English tastes and in-
tellects, than by unwearied exertions in his career of
professional usefulness, and the moral and Christian
greatness, by which he was characterized.
CHAPTER XVII.
Dunnes.
BOYHOOD OF BISHOP KEN.
THIS excellent man, zealous prelate, eloquent
preacher, and eminent divine, was born in July, 1637,
a period pregnant with events that were to try men's
souls. His father an attorney in the Court of Com-
mon Pleas was of an ancient Somersetshire family,
while, on the mother's side, he had the distinction of
deriving his descent in a direct line from John Chalk-
hill, the poet, scholar, gentleman, and friend of Spen-
ser. However, Ken does not appear to have inher-
ited much poetic talent, though his having left four
thick volumes of verse for publication argues that he
himself held a different opinion.
Thomas Ken's birth-place was Little Berkhamp-
stead, a sequestered village in Hertfordshire, which
even at this date boasts of something like primitive
repose and simplicity ; and there, in all probability,
the first few years of this pious man's life were spent.
Before he had reached the age of five and was
Y
338 DIVINES.
capable of fully comprehending such a bereavement,
he lost his mother ; but he had the advantage of be-
ing watched over by his sister, who was remarkable
for piety, prudence, meekness, and knowledge. This
lady shortly afterward became the wife of the cele-
brated Iv.aak Walton, by whom young Ken was guided
through all the perplexing paths of early life, and
trained up in the practice of all the Christian graces.
Moreover Walton instilled into his opening mind so
exalted a view of the honor, dignity, and privilege
of being in holy orders, that, from early boyhood,
Ken resolved to forego all secular pursuits, and to de-
vote himself heart and soul to the serviceof the Church.
In his twelfth year, Ken was sent to Winchester
School, and entered upon the usual studies of the
place. Here his conduct was such as to be consider-
ed worthy of example to others, and his talents such
as to pave the way for his advancement to Oxford.
The warden at that time was a Dr. Harris, former-
ly professor of Greek at Oxford, and so celebrated a
preacher as to be entitled to the credit of having, in
some measure, contributed to inspire his pupil with
the clear, fluent, and fervent eloquence, which after-
ward converted Roman Catholics of the Hague, and
attracted crowds of courtiers to the chapel of iSt.
James. His father died the year after, and the care
of the boy devolved on the worthy angler, who per-
formed his duty with pious zeal. Ken, in his turn,
became the instructor of Walton's son, afterward a
BOYHOOD OF BISHOP KEN. . 339
prebemlary of Salisbury, and took him under hia
charge when he went to travel in Italy in 1675.
Meantime, at school, the future prelate, who in the
holy discharge of his duty never feared the face of man,
nor to encounter the danger he defied, exhibited the
holy habit of obedience to the precepts and discipline
of religion, for which he was afterward so eminently
distinguished. The daily attendance of the Winches-
ter boys in the chapel was provided for ; and they
were commanded to take part reverentially in the
enjoined service. " So much care is taken," says
Ken, in the Manual of Prayers which he subsequent-
ly wrote for the use of the students, " to make the
youths good Christians as well as good scholars, and
they go so frequently to prayers, every day in the
chapeV and in the school, singing psalms and hymns
to God so frequently in their chamber, and in the
chapel, and in the hall, that they are in a manner
brought up in a perpetuity of prayer."
Ken was five years in his progress through the
several classes, all the time growing in grace as well
as in manly and intellectual vigor ; and at the end
of that period had the satisfaction of being at the
head of the school. At the examination of candi-
dates, in 1656, he was elected to New College.
Having, therefore, according to the approved cus-
tom, cut his name, which is still visible, on an an-
cient stone buttress, and bid adieu to the library, to
which he afterward presented thirty pounds and
340 DIVINES.
several rare books, he betook himself to Oxford, no
doubt rejoicing in the pleasing prospect of residing
among her ancient spires and rich meadows. But
there being at that particular time no vacancy in
New College, he entered himself as a student of
Hart College, in the hope of a vacancy occurring
within the year. At Oxford he met with an old
school-companion, Francis Turner, who afterward,
as Bishop of Ely, was to be his fellow-sufferer from
the insane bigotry of James II., and became intimate
with Lord Weymouth, under whose roof, at Long-
leat, he passed the evening of his days, clouded,
indeed, by worldly reverses, unhesitatingly endured
for conscience sake, but bright with the prospect of a
glorious immortality.
Within one year of his arrival at Oxford, upon
which the iron and ruthless hand of Cromwell then
lay heavy, he was admitted to New College. The
organists and choristers being still silenced by the
government, musical societies were formed ; and Ken
having an excellent taste for music, and being a
skillful player on the lute, was one of the perform-
ers who held weekly meetings at their houses and
sometimes in the college chambers. In May 1661,
he took his degree of Bachelor of Arts, and that of
Master three years later, devoting himself all the
time to the study of theology in the library, to which,
as soon as circumstances permitted, he presented up-
ward of a hundred volumes, as an acknowledgment
BOYHOOD OF BISHOP KEN. 341
of benefits derived within its walls. At Oxford he
was distinguished by his pious and charitable dispo-
sition, and used always to have small pieces of money
about him when he walked about the streets and
saw proper objects of charity.
After being ordained, he was presented to the rec-
tory of Little Easton, in Essex, where he devoted him-
self assiduously to the discharge of his pastoral duties ;
he only allowed himself one sleep, and was in the habit
of rising at one or two o'clock in the morning, to pre-
pare himself by study and devotion for the arduous
exertions of the day.
In 1679 he was appointed chaplain at the Hague,
his office being to regulate the service in the Princess's
chapel, according to the usage of the Chuch of En-
gland ; but persons of all persuasions flocked to hear
his burning words, and breathing thoughts. On re-
turning to his native country, he became chaplain to
the King of England, and as such, exhibited remark-
able courage in vindicating the dignity and sacredness
of his office. Shortly afterward he was appointed
chaplain in the expedition of the fleet to Tangier, and
on return was installed as Bishop of Bath and Wella.
Within a week after his consecration at Lambeth,
he was called on to attend the death-bed of Charles
II., as he soon after did the scaffold of the unfortu-
nate Duke of Monmouth.
When King James took measures for the establish-
ment of Romanism in the land, Ken, in spite of royal
342 DIVINES.
reproof, zealously set his face against it, and was one
of the seven bishops tried and gloriously acquitted in
1688. After the Revolution, however, refusing to
take the oath of allegiance to the new government,
he was deprived of his bishopric, and conscientiously
retired into poverty. On the accession of Queen Anne,
she offered to restore him to Bath and Wells ; but he
declined, whereupon her Majesty granted him a pen-
sion of 200Z. a year, which his friends had consider-
able difficulty in preventing him from bestowing en-
tirely upon his poorer brethren.
In the middle of March 1771, he died at Long-
leat, and was buried in the church-yard of Frome
Selwood, having, according to his own desire been
carried to the grave by six of the poorest men in the
parish, and interred without pomp or ceremony, " All
glory be to God" was ever his motto.
" His moral character," says Mr. Macaulay, " when
impartially reviewed, sustains a comparison with any
in ecclesiastical history, and seems to approach, as
near as human infirmity permits, to the ideal perfec-
tion of Christian virtue."
BOYHOOD OF DR. PARR.
THIS learned and eminent divine was born at Har-
row, on the 15th January, 1747. His father was a
surgeon and apothecary there, and so enthusiastic a Ja-
cobite that he had rashly advanced nearly the whole
of his property in the cause of the exiled house of
Stuart. This unfortunate circumstance no doubt
rendered it much more difficult in a pecuniary point
of view than it would otherwise have been, for his
highly-gifted son to pursue those congenial and well-
loved studies, which eventually rendered him at once
a vigilant pastor, and a man of gigantic and ponderous
learning. He was almost in infancy recognized as a
boy of rare and precocious intellect, which displayed
itself in an extraordinary grammatical knowledge oi
the Latin language, acquired as early as his fourth
year. At this extremely juvenile age he was taught
to dispense medicines, but did not show any signs of
taking to his father's business, which was quite foreign
to his taste. Without being one of those children de-
scribed by American novelists, as dying of too much
grace and goodness, there appeared in him, from the
first dawn of boyhood, indications of a natural bias
toward the sphere, in which he was destined to
move.
At the age of nine he was admitted as a scholar
344 DIVINES.
on the foundation of Harrow school, of which, ere
five years had passed, he became the head boy. He
always looked forward to being a clergyman, and
used to practice himself by preaching to his school-
fellows, and pronouncing funeral orations over dead
birds, cats, and dogs. One day Dr. Allen found him
sitting alone, on the church-yard gate, apparently in
deep and studious meditation.
" Why don't you join the other boys in their play ?"
asked the Doctor, a little surprised at his solitary
position.
" Do you not know, sir," replied Parr, with a
seriousness becoming the subject " that I am to be a
parson ?"
About this time he is said to have written some
sermons, and composed a drama from the book of
Ruth, his first literary attempt.
His humanity to animals was extreme, and the
only battle he ever fought at school was in defense
of a worried cat ; but, notwithstanding this, he had a
strange fancy for felling oxen at the slaughter-house.
Another juvenile peculiarity was his delight in ringing
church-bells, to gratify which he put forth the whole
of his strength. Whether or not he, like his distin-
guished contemporary, Sir William Jones, regaled
himself with tea to stimulate the studious faculty and
ward ofF " balmy sleep," it is certain that his aver-
sion to it was at one period peculiarly strong. Being
on one occasion invited by a lady to partake of the
BOYHOOD OF DR. PARR. 345
beverage, he uttered this pointed and delicate com-
pliment :
"Non possum fe-cum vivere, nee sine te."
On leaving school he attended for two or three years
to his father's profession ; but had no particular am-
bition for such distinction as could be therein acquired.
His studies did not suffer so much from this circum-
stance as might have been expected ; for he fell upon
the plan of getting some of his former associates to
report to him the master's remarks on the lesson of
each day ; and thus not only kept the flame of learn-
ing still burning within him, but made almost as
much progress by private study as he had done when
subjected to the discipline of the school and the danger
of the birchen rod.
His father, finding the inclination of his boy-divine
too strong to be thwarted, at length consented, at his
own earnest desire, that he should be sent to Eman-
uel College, Cambridge, where he was accordingly
entered, in 1765.
His father's death, a very short time after, left him
almost penniless, and this compelled him to leave the
new scene of his studies with a sad heart ; but not-
withstanding all disappointments and privations, he
resolutely pursued the career for which nature had
bountifully fitted him, and, in 1767, became assistant
at Harrow ; where he had under his tuition Sheridan,
Halhed, and John Shore, afterward Lord Teignmouth.
In 1 760 he was ordained to the curacy of Willesden,
316 DIVINES.
in Middlesex, which he resigned the following year.
In 1771 he was created A.M. by royal mandate, to
qualify him for the head-mastership of Harrow, then
vacant ; but failing to obtain the appointment, he re-
signed his situation as assistant, and opened a school
at Stanmore, whither he was followed by a large num-
ber of the Harrow scholars. The enterprise not prov-
ing successful, he afterward accepted the mastership
of the Norwich Grammar School. In 1781 he pub-
lished his two sermons on education, which subject
he subsequently discussed in a quarto volume ; and,
about the same time, took the degree of L.L.D. at
Cambridge. In 1781 he was presented to a prebend
in St. Paul's, and to the perpetual curacy of Hatton,
to which he retired. In 1807 he was on the point
of obtaining the bishopric of Gloucester, but a change
of administration frustrated the intention of his friends
in this respect.
On the 6th of March, 1825, he died at Hatton, in
his seventy-eighth year, and was followed to the grave
by a large concourse of eminent men, of various relig-
ious persuasions.
BOYHOOD OF DR. CHALMERS.
THIS distinguished divine was unquestionably one
of the greatest and mbst powerful pulpit-orators the
world has ever seen, and he was also one of the best
of men. He is acknowledged by all, whatever their
views and opinions on the subject with which his
name is chiefly associated, to have been guided by the
worthiest motives, sustained by the highest spirit, and
animated by the loftiest aspirations. His boyhood
presents an example, which may be most profitably
studied and mused on by youth ; because in his wildest,
and merriest, and most mischievous days he never for-
got the duty he owed to Him, to whose service his
life was piously and actively dedicated.
He was born on the 17th of March, 1780, the sixth
of a family of fourteen children, at Anstruther, a sea-
port town of Fife, and one of five small boroughs that
then returned a member to Parliament. There his
father, for several years the provost, carried on a flour-
ishing business as a general merchant, as his father,
the son of a Scottish clergyman and the grandson of
a "laird," had done before him. The parents of this
great man seem to have been strictly religious, and
to have endeavored, by precept and example, to con-
vey devout impressions to the minds of their numer-
ous offspring.
When two years old, he was placed in tho charge
348 DIVINES.
of a nurse whose cruel treatment and deceitful con-
duct he remembered through life ; and to his last
years he was in the habit of talking of the inhumanity
with which she treated him. This, however, had
the effect of producing a rare willingness to go to
chool, where he was placed at the age of three. His
parents had not, as may be imagined, much time to
devote to the instruction of so very numerous a family ;
and the young scholar was left to profit as he best
might by the daily lessons he received from the public
preceptor. This worthy, however competent he might
have been in former years, had at that time become
too old and too blind to be a successful imparter of
knowledge ; but he ratained all that enthusiastic love
of flogging that characterized the teachers of the pe-
riod, and indulged it to an extent which his pupils
did not by any means admire or relish. Even in total
blindness, the ruling passion was so strong that he
exerted his ingenuity to the utmost to bring the un-
wary imps within reach of his implements of torture.
When utterly sightless, he employed as an assistant
a Mr. Daniel Ramsay, who, being semewhat eccen-
tric, sought distinction without finding it, by writing
a treatise on mixed schools, which has since slum-
bered, unread and uncut, on many a dusty shelf.
Having little to induce him to do so, Chalmers did
not at first devote himself with any assiduity to his
studies. On the contrary, he is still recollected as
one of the idlest, merriest, strongest, and most frolic-
BOYHOOD OF DR. CHALMERS. 349
some boys in Anstruther school ; though when he set
himself to learn, no one could do it so speedily or so
well. He was remarkably quick ; yet when the awe-
inspiring lesson came to be said, it was generally found
half, or wholly, unlearned. On such occasions, the
juvenile offender was consigned to the coal-hole, and
there compelled to remain in a most unpleasant and
irksome solitude till he had performed his neglected
duty to the master's satisfaction ; but such was the
quickness of his comprehension, that his term of du-
rance was always the very briefest ; and he was soon
once more directing or leading some hazardous ex-
ploit, and raising above the youthful crowd that voice,
which afterward, in tones of surpassing eloquence,
thrilled the hearts and swayed the judgments of men.
He was always, however, most indignant when false-
hood or ribaldry mingled with their boyish mirth, and
ever looked to as a protector by the weak and injured,
whose cause he was at all times prompt to espouse
and defend against their stronger and more powerful
associates. Strongly averse to quarrels and brawls,
he never failed to act as peace-maker when his media-
tion could be of any avail ; and when his efforts could
not be effectual, and his angry companions were con-
tending fiercely with mussel-shells, he was wont to
shelter himself from the raging storm in some secure
retreat, exclaiming, in his native dialect, " I'm no for
powder and ball."
As soon as he had acquired the power of reading
350 DIVINES.
he immediately applied it to perusing and feeding
his imagination with the " Pilgrim's Progress," which
conveyed to him both pleasure and instruction, and
no doubt many a great and burning thought destined
in other days to be turned to noble purposes. When
a very little boy, he was summoned to receive his
first lesson in mathematics from his uncle, a sailing,
master in the navy, who was a man of considerable
attainments in mathematics, and considered them
far more important than any other branch of human
knowledge.
" What is that?" asked the retired seaman, mak-
ing a point on the slate.
" A dot," answered the young scholar.
" Try again," said the uncle, encouragingly, " try
again ; what is it?"
" A tick," was the reply.
Several members of the family to which Dr.
Chalmers belonged had been clergymen, and at as
early a period as he could form and announce a pur-
pose, he declared his intention of becoming one.
Some passages in the Bible had been early impress-
ed on his memory, and when three years old he
was found, one dark evening, alone in the nursery,
pacing up and down, and repeating to himself some
of the sayings of David. He very soon fixed upon a
text for his sermon, and is still remembered to have
stood upon a chair, and vigorously preached from it
to a single, but attentive, listener.
CHALMERS' FIRST SERMON.
BOYHOOD OF DR. CHALMERS. 353
It appears that Chalmers profited little by the in-
struction he received at Anstruther school, and his
parents resolved to send him elsewhere. Accord-
ingly, in November 1791, he was enrolled as a stu-
dent in the ancient University of St. Andrews,
where one of his fellow-students was the present dis-
tinguished Chief-Justice of England. A letter to his
mother, during the summer after his session at college,
is still preserved as the earliest specimen of hi?
writings, and proves, by its orthographical and gram
matical errors, that he had still to commence thi
task of learning to compose with correctness in thai
language, of which he, ere long, became so consum-
mate a master. Indeed, though the self-sufficient
Ramsay was, as time rolled on, excessively proud of
having taught him, Chalmers was, when he entered
it, ill prepared by previous education to benefit by the
instruction college afforded ; and the greater part of
the first two sessions was devoted much more to golf
and foot-ball, the games of the locality, than to the
appointed studies of the place.
Next year, however, he began in earnest the study
of mathematics ; he applied his mind to it with ar-
dor, and henceforth his intellectual faculties knew no
repose. He was enthusiastic in, and gave his whole
attention to, whatever he undertook. Even after he
was enrolled as a student of divinity, mathematics
continued to occupy the greater part of his attention,
and having learned enough of French for the purpose,
Z
354 DIVINES.
he read attentively all the principal writings in that
language on the higher branch of the subject. His
interest in the study continued unabated, and not even
the attractive lectures of one of the most eminent of
theological professors could win him from his devotion.
But toward the close of the session of 1795, he
studied " Edwards on Free Will," and was so ab-
sorbed with it, that he could for some time talk of
nothing else. He used to wander early in the morn-
ing into quiet rural scenes to luxuriate in solitary
musing on the mighty theme.
In the following summer he paid a visit to Liver-
pool, where an elder brother was settled ; and there
speculations of the loftiest order strangely mingled
in his mind, with the shipping and docks on one side
of the Mersey, and the plowed and pasture land on
the other. He now began earnestly to cultivate
his powers of composition, and his progress was so
remarkably rapid, that in two years he acquired
habits of quick and easy writing. When the ordinary
difficulties of expression were once overcome, the
thoughts pent up in his great soul found free and open
vent in forms of surpassing power and beauty.
Moreover, he very soon gave ample proof of his ora-
torical talent in the morning and evening prayers,
which were then conducted in the hall of the Uni-
versity, and to which the public were admitted. The
latter did not generally manifest particular eagerness
to avail themselves of the privilege ; but when it
BOYHOOD OF DR. CHALMERS. 355
was known that Chalmers was to pray, they came
in crowds ; and though then only a youth of six-
teen, the wonderful flow of vivid end glowing elo-
quence showed exquisite taste and capacity for corn-
position, and produced a striking effect on the throng-
ing audience. Hid style is said to have been then
very much the same as when he produced such
splendid impressions in the pulpit and through the
press. For his cultivation, in this respect, he was
much indebted to his practice in debating societies
formed among the students. He had early become
a member of the political society, whose proceedings
have not, unfortunately, been recorded ; but in the
Theological Society, to which he was admitted
1795, he particularly distinguished himself on some
subjects, which interested and engaged his attention
almost to the close of his earthly career. It is wor-
thy of remark, that one of the exercises written
during his attendance at the Divinity Hall on the
ardor and enthusiasm of the earlier Christians sup-
plied him with the very words in which, forty years
after, he addressed four hundred of his brethren, when
they were assembled to deliberate on the propriety of
separating themselves from that church, whose an-
nals could hardly furnish a more bright or venera-
ble name than that of the illustrious divine, who
stood in the midst to cheer and sustain them.
At the close of his seventh session at St. Andrews,
Chalmers accepted a situation as tutor to a family in
356 DIVINES.
the north. On the day of his departure to enter upon
his new duties, a somewhat ludicrous incident oc-
curred. His father's whole household turned out to
bid him farewell, and having taken, as he thought
his last fond look at them, he proceeded to mount his
horse, which stood at the door ; but having done so,
he found himself in a most awkward position, his face
being most unaccountably turned toward the ani-
mal's tail. This was too much for the gravity of all
parties, and especially for his own, so vaulting round
with as much equestrian dexterity as he was master
of, he spurred on his steed, and amid shouts of laugh-
ter, in which he heartily joined, soon left the salt-pans
and malt-steeps of Anstruther far behind. On ar-
rival, he found his new residence so exceedingly un-
pleasant and uncomfortable, that in a few months he
was compelled to relinquish the post.
In January 1799, he returned to St. Andrews,
and before long applied to the Presbytery to be ex-
amined preparatory to his obtaining a license as a
preacher. Difficulties were raised from his being too
young to be intrusted with the sacred functions ; but
one of his friends having luckily discovered that the
rule could be set aside in the case of an aspirant pos-
sessing rare and singular parts, he was, after the usual
formalities, licensed in the end of July ; and, starting
immediately for the south, preached his first sermon
in a Scotch chapel at Wigan, in Lancashire, while yet
in his twentieth yar. Betaking himself soon after
BOYHOOD OF DR. CHALMERS 357
to Edinburgh, he zealously pursued his studies for two
years at the university of that fair city. Having for
some time preached at Cavers, in "pleasant Teviot-
dale," he was ordained minister of the parish of Kil-
many, May, 1803. There he remained till 1814,
when, having during the previous year been elected
to the Tron Kirk at Glasgow, he removed to under-
take more extensive and onerous duties, and exercise
his genius in a wider sphere. In 1814, being ap-
pointed Professor of Moral Philosophy in the Univers-
ity of Edinburgh, he removed thither, and in 1828,
became Professor of Theology. The degree LL.D.
was conferred on him by Oxford, and he was elected
a Corresponding Member of the Royal Institute of
France.
On the 31st of May, 1847, he died at his residence
at Morningsidc, near Edinburgh ; and all who knew
him felt that pang which accompanies the disappear-
ance of a truly great and good man 'from the earth.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Surgeons.
BOYHOOD OF JOHN HUNTER.
Tins remarkable and eminent man, who enjoys the
distinction of having been one of the most accomplish-
ed anatomists that ever lived, was born at Long
Calderwood, in the county of Lanark, on the 13th
of February, 1728. The place of his birth was an
estate of which his father was laird, as the proprie-
tors of the Scottish soil are indiscriminately termed ;
but, as the acres were few and the family numerous,
he was not, of course, reared in any thing like ener-
vating affluence or corrupting luxury. Nevertheless,
it appears that he did not in boyhood exhibit an iota
of that dauntless industry, which characterized his
later years.
Gibbon says with truth, that every man who rises
above the ordinary level receives two educations the
first from his instructors, the second, the most personal
and important, from himself; and it appears that
Hunter was almost, if not altogether, indebted to self-
BOYHOOD OF JOHN HUNTER. 359
culture for any learning he was ever master of. In-
deed, in his earliest years he was allowed, and perhaps
even to some extent encouraged, to neglect the oppor-
tunities of improvement within his reach. Being his
father's youngest and favorite child, he was not re-
quired to apply himself with an earnestness to study,
and it appears that he afterward experienced no in-
considerable disadvantage from the want of proper
and regular tuition.
At the age of ten he lost his father, and about the
same time was sent to the grammar-school of Glasgow ;
but, owing to the unfortunate system of indulgence
which was injudiciously continued by his mother, he
arrived at his seventeenth year without having made
any progress worthy of the name. It was the laud-
able and wholesome custom of his country, pursued
originally in deference to a statute of one of the
Jameses, that the sons of" lairds" should learn Latin.
Accordingly, an effort was made to convey some knowl-
edge of that language to Hunter, but with so. little
success that the attempt was abandoned in utter
despair. Indeed, it was with no small difficulty that
he was taught to read and write with as much pro-
ficiency, as must have been manifested by his father's
plowman and sheep-boy.
On leaving school he contrived for some time to
amuse himself with such rural sports as his native
district afforded, probably also employing himself in
switching hedges, digging iu the kail-yard, or driving
360 SURGEONS.
cows from the meadows ; but it was certain that h
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 their own exertions might befriend them.
Moreover, the days were gone by wheu 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
sometime before this repaired to London, and laid
BOYHOOD OF JOHN HUNTER. 361
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 "mounting 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 offer 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
were 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 in
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 Royal 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. He was subsequently elected a Fellow of
the Royal 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 16th 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 upholstere-r'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 his
scientific genius. " That man thinks for himself,"
exclaimed Lavater, when he looked on that face,
as it seems to live and breathe on the canvas of Sir
Joshua.
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 birth of Sir Astley took place on the 23d of
August, 1768. and his baptism in the following
304 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,
as 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 religious
knowledge to her family, and grounded young Ast-
BOYHOOD OF SIR ASTLEY COOPER. 3C5
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 i'rank, 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, horses
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 indifference 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 animal 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, while 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
ASTLEY COOPER'S DEBUT IN SURGERY.
BOYHOOD OF SIR ASTLEY COOPER. 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 efforts 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 which the sight of
so ghastly a wound naturally produces, and undis-
mayed by the affright 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 likely 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 artes 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
at Yarmouth, he divided his time between frolicsome
AA
370 SURGEONS.
levities and evening parties, till roused into action 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 life
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, he
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 the
best-dressed men in the city of London.
His uncle, not finding it convenient to receive the
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 home
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 trifling
and carelessness, and applied himself to the acquire-
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 investigation
372 SURGEONS.
of which continued 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 hospital 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 to
the University of Edinburgh, where he immediately
attracted notice by his zeal and diligence in obtaining
it. For seven months he prosecuted his studies there
BOYHOOD OF SIR ASTLEY COOPER. 373
with great diligence ; and having been elected an
ordinary member of the Royal Medical Society, ho
so highly distinguished himself in 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
having 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 lovo, 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 damsel, 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.
374 SURGEONS.
and set off on a trip to Paris. On arrival, he seized
the 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 ability, 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
and indefatigably performed.
CHAPTER XIX.
Naturalists.
BOYHOOD OF SIR JOSEPH BANKS.
THIS distinguished naturalist, though his name is
not associated with any great work, or connected in
the minds of men with any 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, i.t 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. He
376 NATURALISTS.
was the representative of an ancient ami 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
uot 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 ! 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
place, to obey his father's wishes, and apply himself
BOYHOOD OF SIR JOSEPH BANKS. 377
to the proper studies of the school. But henceforth
his passion for botany grew and waxed daily stronger,
and, not finding any more fitting teacher, he employ-
ed some women, occupied in gathering plants and
herbs for the druggists, to give him such instruction
as thgy 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 whole 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 Banks 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 Oxonians, of course, he stood low. He used to
BOYHOOD OF SIR JOSEPH BANKS. 379
tell, 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 situation he conceived so strong a passion for
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, arid 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 1778 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. 38.
In 1795 he was appointed a member of the Privy
Council.
He died full of honors, on the 19th of March, 1 820,
leaving his library and botanical collection to the
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 braved 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 eve*
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
382 NATURALISTS.
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-
ng 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 oould 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 he received. " What,"
he asked, " have I to do with monstrous torsos and
the heads of heathen gods, when my business lies
among birds ?"
He therefore returned with delight to indulge in
his enthralling study about the fields, woods, and
BOYHOOD OF AUDOBON. 383
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 the
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
pencil.
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, he
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 the
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, he exhibited at once the fresh
soul of a child and the courageous spirit of a hero.
His wanderings were among unfrequented solitudes,
solitary 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
hy 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, as
BOYHOOD OF AUDUBON. 385
ardent in his chosen pursuits as he had ben when,
in the vigor of youth, braving earthquakes, fearful
precipices, and yawning gulfs. At sixty he undertook
an expedition to the Rocky Mountains in search of
some specimens of wild animals, of which a report
had been conveyed to him. Even in the last days ot
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 his 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.
UC SOUTHERN