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 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 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