Ex Libris C. K. OGDEN ' THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES te &£^&^ Y /fJz / SMALL BEGINNINGS OB, THE WAY TO GET ON. THE "TIMES" NEWSPAPER— AN INCIDENT IN ITS EARLY DAYS. .i.'ll.N WALTER SHOWING Ills PUEHSMEN THE FIRST SHEET PRINTED BY STEAM hiul I dertructlon to any one whoee Invention might suspend tin Ireinpl lent — •* destruction to him mil his tr.ipH." Mr. Walter went Into the prois-room, anil astonished telling; them thai the " Tunes" *w.» alreail) printed hj steam.- Pad* 17. ■HE HAT 10 1ET IN i MONTGOMER Y • AND ' H I S • PRISON » FRI ENDS | 'tfgiruUvf- :a LONDON • JAMESHOCCANDOTS i^i CONTENTS. John Walter of the "Times"— the Sovereign of " The Fourth Estate," 5 The Stort of the First Indian Baronet — Sir Jam- setjee jejeebhoy, the parsee merchant - 32 Herbert Minton and Josiah Wedgwood ; or, the History of a Tea-cdp and Two Great Potters - 37 George Heriot the Shrewd Goldsmith ... 62 Joseph Brotherton the Factory Boy ... 7(3 Stephen Girard the Cabin Boy ... . §7 John Leyden the Shepherd Boy 99 Drake the Sea-King ; or, the Building of " Old England's Wooden Walls" .... 115 dupuytren the resolute surgeon .... 139 Laffitte the Banker ; or, a Fortune in a Pin - 158 James Montgomery, Poet and Editor - - - 178 John Pay the Eeverent Inquirer - - - - 194 Breguet the Ingenious Watchmaker .... 206 David Wilkie the Painter of Daily Life - - 214 John Pounds and his Ragged Scholars ; ob, the Cobbler's Experiment 232 William Knibb the Friend of the Slave - - 248 George Birkbeck and the Origin of Mechanics' Institutions 259 Edward Baines the Successful Printer - - 266 ■ ILLUSTRATIONS An Incident in the Early Days of the " Times" — John Walter showing the First Sheet Printed by Steam. — Frontispiece. James Montgomery and his Prison Friends. — Vignette Title. The Modern Alnaschar and his Two Bottles - - 31 Queen Anne of Denmark Pledging her Jewels to George Heriot 07 Leyden in Search of the " Arabian Nights*' - 103 The Duke and the Water-Carrier .... 154 Wilkie's First Drawing Academy - - - 215 John Pounds taming the "Hopeful Hopeless - ' - 240 SMALL BEGINNINGS. JOHN WALTER OF THE "TIMES," THE SOVEREIGN OF THE "FOURTH ESTATE." John Walter was born at Clapham on the 23d February, 1776. His father, a newspaper proprietor and printer in London, was a man of considerable ability, who, by the time John came to be ready for a profession, had realised some money. It would seem that it was a subject of doubt whether the young man should continue his father's business or sro into the Church. The latter alternative was at first adopted ; but we are not told how it came to be departed from, though it is likely that John Walter, who was not only a far-seeing but a conscientious youth from the beginning, and had early accustomed himself to look to the connection between means and ends, discovered that there was, in regard to him, a false reckoning. The intention was changed, and the first step taken which was to lead to fortune and renown, by binding him as an apprentice to his father, and learning him the art of composing or setting up types. He was some time after sent to Oxford, where he remained only one year ; and 6 JOHN WALTER OF THE " TIMES, when he returned to resume his labours in the printing-office, of which he was very fond, he found his father sole proprietor and manager of the " Times." The paper, with a very limited circula- tion, was not in a thriving condition, for the father had too many avocations on his hands, and there was a good-humoured, easy philosophy about him, the very reverse of those habits required for making a newspaper a work of progress. He was one who rather loved the old beaten paths, and looked with suspicion on newfangled notions of invention. On the return of John from Oxford, his father gave him a share in the property of the newspaper, whereby he conferred on him no great boon, as then considered. The newspaper press at that time was in a very feeble condition, labouring under govern- ment restrictions ; and every now and then a poor editor, who had gone beyond his privilege, was sent to jail to learn submission, and to acquire the con- viction that knowledge, though a power, was not a free one. So unpromising, indeed, appeared the " Times" at this period, that it was a matter of doubt whether it should not be altogether given up ; for it was not only unprofitable — it was a source of loss and of greater anxiety than the easy philosophy of the elder Walter was willing to bear. It was at this juncture that young Walter, who was about twenty-one years of age, first showed that capacity for looking into futurity and calculating means and THE SOVEREIGN OF THE K FOURTH ESTATE." 7 ends for which he became so famous. He felt he had some advantages : he was well educated, a capital printer, with a great passion for business and an abundance of the practical. It was after- wards said of him that in the game of life he never threw away a chance, and here, on the offer of the first, he saw how the game would likely go. He prevailed upon his father to make over to him the whole concern. The old man " wished him much good of it," at the same time that he was under very sage apprehensions that John's newfangled notions, which he had been sporting with the usual temerity of youth, would be the ruin of the paper as well as of himself. Once installed, the young proprietor began to set in order the establishment, and to work his small beginning according to the new views he had been indulging in for some time. John Walter's genius was essentially creative. All our English enter- prize comes of such minds — wise in foresight and fertile in invention ; but the presage in this young aspirant's head, that there was to be a great pro- gress in English enterprize, which would call for and repay increased means of intelligence, was one which at that time could only be arrived at by a very peculiar form of mind. The presage was ac- companied, happily, by an untiring energy. Like a skilful general he was gifted, moreover, with an intuitive perception of character, and the conse- 8 JOHN WALTER OF THE " TIMES," quence of this gift was, that he soon gathered round him a corps of agents with a zeal and intelligence like his own. The difficulties at the commencement were sufficient to have daunted any man ; but he had an opposition to encounter indoors, under his father's roof, apparently more serious. One of John's follies, as the old man called them, was to introduce a quicker mode of printing — a juvenile whim, which was set down as not only impracticable but un- necessary, inasmuch as there was no demand for such increased celerity. Then the young man, by a spirit of most unheard-of improvidence, had actu- ally taken upon him to blow up the consecrated system of theatrical puffs, which had long been a valuable source of emolument to the papers of the day. At that time a newspaper was made up of slender summaries, one-sided criticisms, garbled scraps of foreign intelligence, and attempts at reporting. In this latter item the early difficulties had been so far surmounted : its second epoch had not yet arrived. There was a small but pretty well organised body of reporters connected with the morning papers, and the new proprietor of the " Times" did not see any necessity to interfere with the plan, but he saw that it would be proper to extend it. He thought, too, that criticism ought to bo high, dignified, and, above all, impartial ; and his resolution was formed to protect the drama, the fine arts, and tin- literature THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." of the age from the evil influence of the venal pane- gyric and empoisoned malignity by which they were enslaved. He began by setting an example of inde- pendence in the more important department of pohtics, for he was too proud to be a partisan ; and with a profound knowledge of human nature he sought out, wherever he could find them, a succes- sion of writers as incapable of yielding to personal pique as they were above private favour. As all great changes in society are slow, so in this instance it was full fifteen years before the public could be brought to admit that the editor of the " Times " was really independent and a lover of truth. In another department "Walter's progress was more rapid. As we all know, fifty years ago the whole of Europe was one vast theatre of war, and it was no easy enterprise to make the press, hitherto feeble and small voiced, heard amidst the sounds of Napoleon's artillery. It had come to be a habit that a London newspaper should support or oppose the minister of the day. Walter cared nothing for that portentous individual whose nod had consigned many a poor editor to prison. He found it to be his duty to support a vigorous prosecution of the war, without respect either to the Government of the day or the Opposition, and he knew the conse- quence — that he would lose the favour of the one, and the foreign correspondence of the other ; but then he knew also that he would win the hearts B 10 JOHN WALTER OF THE " TIMES," of the people of England. He did win them, and he gave them more than gratitude. It turned out as Mr Walter anticipated. The Government used all its authority to stop the couriers and delay the private correspondence of the " Times." The father of Mr Walter had for eighteen years held the situ- ation of printer to the Customs, and of this he was summarily deprived, while the Government adver- tisements were withdrawn from the " Times." All, however, to no purpose. It is well known that the monied classes supply the sinews of war, and that early intelligence is the vital principle of British commerce. To make himself the first and greatest purveyor of that intelligence was the ambition of this sagacious editor; and those very difficulties which inferior spirits viewed with trembling and dismay, protected him from all rivalship, and led the way to conquest. Wherever any impor- tant event was in movement, whether openly or in secret, some of John Walter's emissaries were there to ferret out the facts, and they were always sufficient for the exigency. Before the close of the war his broadsheet had become a necessity to the British merchant ; and no wonder — it con- tained what no other paper contained : under various disguises and by means of sundry pretexts, those employed on the Continent ascertained im- portant facts connected with commerce, and got tin m conveyed to London often at the greatest risk, THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." ] 1 and always at immense expense. Even the Govern- ment couriers were outstripped, and it might truly be said that one half of the trade of London came to be regulated by the intelligence thus acquired by a private individual. He had not been many years acting thus upon the results of his far-seeing sagacity, when surprise began to be expressed at the success of this young man's opening career. It was no easy thing to comprehend how his old, shrewd, experienced, and wealthy rivals could be so completely beaten by a youth of moderate capital and almost without a name. The answer was that he was a true English- man, and understood the temper of Englishmen. To comprehend this we must call to mind that a great many of the London editors at that time were from the north and west, and that their characters were generally formed before they arrived in Lon- don. But besides the force of John Walter's truly English heart, which was always in unison with the thoughts and feelings of his countrymen, he possessed that singular aptitude for mercantile affairs which enters so largely into the peculiar nature of an Englishman. A more singular quality was no small help to him — he was entirely free from that common plague — literary vanity. He never cared about being thought the author of an article, however good it might be ; it was enough if it served its purpose well • and he was thus led, 12 JOHN WALTERS OF THE " TIMES," as we have already hinted, to gather round about him the ablest writers of the day. Another quality — extreme self-reliance — helped him greatly, for it saved him from the littleness of partisanship. So did a fourth — his extraordinary boldness and reso- lution : a spirit which often brought him into diffi- culties, but also got him out of them, and always served him in the long run. "As early as the year 1804 an ingenious com- positor, named Thomas Martyn, had invented a self-acting machine for working the press, and had produced a model, which satisfied Mr Walter of the feasibility of the scheme. Being assisted with the necessary funds, he made considerable progress towards the completion of his work, in the course of which he was exposed to much personal danger from the hostility of the pressmen, who vowed vengeance against the man whose innovations threatened destruction to their craft. To such a length was their opposition carried, that it was found necessary to introduce the various pieces of the machinery into the premises with the utmost secrecy, while Martyn was obliged to shelter himself under various disguises in order to escape their fury. Mr Walter, however, was not yet permitted to reap the fruits of his enterprise. On the very eve of success lie Avas doomed to bitter disappointment. He had exhausted his own funds in the attempt, and his father, who had hitherto THE SOVEREIGN OF THE "FOURTH ESTATE." 13 assisted him, became disheartened, and refused him any further aid. The project was, therefore, for the time abandoned." A striking example of the difficulties under which John Walter had to contend occurred in 1810. In the month of May of that year, the pressmen of London insisted on a rise of wages, and coming to the men in the " Times" office, they insisted that the latter should get the uniform wages, forgetting that they enjoyed peculiar advantages in the high rate of pay which they received for extra labour. Such was the pressure upon him that Walter was inclined to give way, but it happened that a young boy informed him that both the pressmen and the compositors had entered into a conspiracy to strike and destroy the paper. The strike took place on a Saturday morning, but they did not know their man. John Walter's courage had risen to the top of the occasion. He had got only a few hours' notice. It was enough. He hurried and collected apprentices and indifferent or cast off workmen wherever he could find them. A motley crew no doubt they were ; but their employer had both head and hands, which were never idle. He la- boured thirty-six hours himself with the sweat run- ning over him, and on Monday morning, when the combination looked for no " Times," the broad sheet flew over London with all its usual rapidity. The evil was replete with difficulties ; the work was 14 JOHN WALTER OF THE " TIMES," forced ; the men employed ran a risk of their lives ; but the ordeal was now to be passed, and Walter was the man to face it. He prosecuted the con- spirators. Twenty-one were seized and nineteen condemned. Thenceforth combinations ceased in Printing House Square, but John Walter was true to his principles ; he increased the wages of his men, and set up a scheme of provision for sickness and old age — the consequence of which has been, and is, that the workmen are more comfortable than elsewhere — sons succeed their fathers, and the whole has the character of an abiding community. We may offer another anecdote. " In the spring of 1833, an express arrived from Paris, bringing the speech of the King of the French on the open- ing of the Chambers. There was no editor on the spot — no printers — none there but Mr Walter him- self. He sent for men, none were to be found. I too (says the narrator) was sent for, but was out. It was a mail day. I came to the office about 12, and found Mr Walter, then M.P. for Berks, work- ins in his shirt sleeves. He had himself trans- lated the speech, and was setting up his own translation, with his own hand, assisted by a single compositor. The second edition of the speech was in the city by one o'clock." The great characteristic of this man was to give the tone which marked the political spirit of his journal. In seclusion and solitude he investigated THE SOVEREIGN OF THE "FOURTH ESTATE." 15 the interests and analysed the opinions and senti- ments of the nation, and before the close of the reign of George III. the Times was a " power," — not Whig, not Tory, not aristocratic, not radical — but essentially British — a progressive reflector of the national will. So great an undertaking required many sacrifices, and these were more than com- mensurate. He withdrew from social intercourse, and refreshed himself with no amusements. He did not seem to know what relaxation meant ; anxiety, brief and broken repose were his lot through many a long year. Still he hoped, as so many others have done, that he would secure en- joyment at a period of life when the experience of all men ought to assure them that " pleasures have ceased to please," and that when the means of enjoyment have been multiplied, the sport has lost its taste. This dislike of going into society, and what is called visiting, so grew upon him that as he advanced towards forty years of age he was never seen in a gay assembly. Later in life he certainly enjoyed more ; that was after his second marriage, and when "time had set upon his brow his signet sage." Between 1810 and 1814 he had devoted great attention to the mechanical department of his establishment, but without much improvement in the celerity by which the paper was produced. The dimensions of the sheet were increased, but the rate at which copies could be thrown off remained sta- 16 JOHN WALTER OF THE "TIMES," tionary — a circumstance which was as gall and wormwood to a man whose ambition was to be the first journalist in Europe. How often did he sigh, but in vain, for the magic celerity which would outstrip the elegant but. comparatively slow moving Stanhope press. Of these presses Walter had several, but to satisfy the exorbitant demands of the newsmen, portions of the Times required to be set up in duplicate and even triplicate, so as to be wrought at the different presses at the same time. "He gave his mind incessantly to the subject, and courted aid from all quarters, with his usual muni- ficence. In the year 1814, he was induced by a clerical friend, in whose judgment he confided, to make a fresh experiment ; and, accordingly, the machine of the amiable and ingenious Kcenig, assisted by his young friend Bauer, was introduced — not, indeed, at first into the ' Times' office, but into the adjoining premises, such caution being thought necessary, from the threatened violence of the pressmen. Here the work advanced, under the frequent inspection and advice of the friend alluded to. At one period these two able mechanics sus- pended their anxious toil, and left the premises in despair. .After the lapse, however, of about three days, the same gentleman discovered their retreat, induced them to return, showed them, to their sur- prise, their difficulty conquered, and the work still in progress. The night on which this curious THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." 17 machine was first brought into use in its new abode was one of great anxiety and even alarm. The suspicious pressmen had threatened destruction to any one whose invention might suspend their em- ployment — ' destruction to him and his traps.' They were directed to wait for expected news. It was about six o'clock in the morning when Mr Walter went into the press-room, and as- tonished its occupants by telling them that the ' Times' was already printed by steam ! That, if they attempted violence, there was a force ready to suppress it ; but that if they were peace- able, their wages would be continued to every one of them till similar employment could be procured — a promise which was, no doubt, faithfully per- formed ; and, having so said, he distributed several copies among them. Thus was this most hazar- dous enterprise undertaken and successfully carried through, and printing by steam on an almost gigantic scale given to the world." The "Times," of the 29th of November 1814, was the first newspaper printed in England by steam. The use of the steam-press is now general ; without it an efficient daily journal could not exist ; and instead of r uining the printing trade, as the workmen at first supposed, like all other really use- ful inventions it has had the very opposite effect. Of that change, which has effected such extraordi- nary results throughout the world, Walter was the C 18 JOHN WALTER OF THE " TIMES," prominent and leading agent ; but how little did lie know, in his just exultation, the wonders which were to follow after all his anxieties and exertions were to cease. If it be asked what was the charac- ter of that great revolution which was thus intro- duced, the answer is certainly that it was mecha- nical ; but it is just as true that the results are beyond all power of calculation intellectual and less material than any or all the contrivances to abridge human labour that man's ingenuity has devised. A public opinion was the one thing Bri- tain required. The agency which has nourished and fashioned the collective mind of this gene- ration is acknowledged to be the daily press, a power which, iD force and swiftness of action, is without a parallel in the world's history. The tremendous expense could be defrayed only by a vast circulation, and that depends upon mecha- nical power. The circulation of the " Times" be- came so enormous, that even at the rate of eleven hundred per hour, it took six or seven hours each day to satisfy the public demand. The indefati- gable proprietor soon got it up to five thousand per hour, and even that did not suffice. The improve- ment of printing machinery was never absent from his thoughts, night or day ; and in the latest years of his life his attention was given to a new machine, of tenfold greater speed than that which Kcenig originally suggested. It would require a volume THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." 19 to describe all these improvements ; but the great fact with which we have here to do is, that while before Walter's time five thousand a day was a great issue, by the end of his career the machinery he was so instrumental in bringing into play could produce fifty-four thousand copies. At the end of the French war, it was asked, What will the " Times " do now ? it has reached its culminating point, and no effort can give it fresh vigour. These inquirers did not know Walter. He was always sufficient for the occasion, and turn- ing his mind homewards, he soon had need of an increased staff of reporters, with more critics, writers on finance and the money market, and lawyers to represent the doings in the Courts. It is strange enough to speak of love in the midst of these stern avocations ; but the gentle passion finds way everywhere. Even John Walter long sighed under an early disappointment, which per- haps an unexampled worldly success made the more bitter. This is the reason assigned for his protracted bachelorship. It was not until 1815 that he entered into matrimony, having in that year married the daughter of Dr Gregory, of West Ham, a divine of some literary celebrity. Mrs Walter very soon showed symptoms of consumption, and died within the year. After two years' widow- hood, he married Miss Smith, daughter of Henry Smith, Esq. of Eastling, Kent, who bore him three sons and two daughters. 20 JOHN WALTER OF THE " TIMES," A few years brought Walter to a crisis of no common difficulty — the trial of Queen Caroline. The period was one of great excitement, and no ordinary danger to independent editors. With a subservient Cabinet and a monarch of George IV.'s temperament on the throne, who but a man of sagacity and courage would have ventured to ex- pose such a vast property as the " Times" to the tender mercies of the Attorney-General — we might even say, however strange it may appear in our day, to the chance of a military outrage. When the very unexpected events which turned the minds of the people to this humiliating chapter in the history of England were brought to Walter's con- sideration, he might have asked himself the ques- tion, Is Queen Caroline guilty or innocent? but that was not the question the people in this country put to themselves as they sat by their quiet firesides. They rather asked, and he who knew them better than most other men also asked, Has this woman not been oppressed ? Has she not been persecuted by her husband, a king, who should have been her natural protector, and was it not sought to ruin her by bribed witnesses, and these witnesses foreigners? Walter answered these questions just as the people answered them, in the affirmative ; and possessed by God's providence with a sacred power committed to no other indi- vidual on earth, he resolved to extend his arm to THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." 21 save her. The risk, he knew, was very great, but he had the nation with him, and this he knew more perfectly after he proclaimed that the Queen would get a fair trial. The sympathy which he thus evoked carried him triumphantly through the conflict. The trial really lay with the Lords — the Commons took scarcely any part in it, whatever they felt. The issue was truly between the King and the multitude, for the Lords could not be in- dependent of an entire people. The mouth -piece of the nation, again, was the national press, and Walter, as the acknowledged leader, exercised a power which he knew would inspire — and did, in fact, inspire — aversion in the mind of the greatest personage in the realm. The King knew that all the Queen's efforts through her advocates to prove her innocence would have been vain if the Press had not been present to detect the very forms of the expressions, and send them on the wings of the wind to every corner of the kingdom. No one can doubt that he who from vindictiveness excluded the Attorney and Solicitor-General of Caroline from the honours of their profession, would, if he had possessed the power, have ruined that still greater Advocate, who, beyond all, had been instrumental in defending the unhappy Queen. When George IV. ascended the throne, Walter had attained his forty-fourth year, but he went through all the labours of this great trial with the 22 JOHN WALTER OF THE " TIMES," energy of youth. It has been said, not untruly, that youth is a blunder, manhood a struggle, and old age a regret. It is as true, however, that those who make a permanent impression on the genera- tion they belong to, present to the biographer a different aspect. Walter's youth was an exciting struggle, his manhood, even with all its efforts, a period of comparative repose, and his old age a triumph. It may indeed be doubted whether his- tory presents us anywhere with a better instance of any man in whom may be found so entire a union between the wisdom and circumspection which accompany age, and the strong passions, vivacity, and cheerfulness of early youth. His activity, like that of so many others, was not an impulse so much as a duty. Even when things did not go pleasantly with him, he preferred an interview, though dis- agreeable, to a communication by letter. With comparative strangers he liked to communicate through the medium of his editors — with others to converse. This necessitated often much movement from one place to another, and all sorts of convey- ances were had recourse to at all times, late and early, to bring him into personal contact with those he wanted to see, so that those who did not under- stand him often wondered at his strange ways. " No sooner," some one would say, " settled at his business in the City than off to the West End, then back in the middle of the night to the City THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." 23 for an hour or two, and the next morning at sun- rise away to his residence at Bearwood." His life at this time was a continued temptation from home by the calls of business, and an invitation to return by the recollection of past happiness and the hope of future enjoyment. If he had a consuming zeal for the improvement of the " Times," he had no less an engrossing passion for planting and pruning, making artificial lakes and undulating lawns. At night he would be seated in the old editorial chair, directing the pens that made the voice of England heard in every court in Europe — thus, with all his opulence, spending his strength in the foul atmo- sphere of the City, and the exhausting labours of a newspaper office ; in a few hours after, the carol of the lark and "incense-breathing morn," restored his jaded faculties, and the same hand now held a woodman's axe, which, a short time before, guided the greatest political and mercantile engine of Europe. It will have been apparent, from what we have said of this extraordinary man, that he was not more remarkable for animal energy than for vigour of mind. These country recreations were the safety- valves of his constitution throughout the period which may be considered as that which offered the full fruits of his labours. Hence the political events from 1820 to 1830 do not greatly help us to his personal history. The South American republics 24 JOHK WALTER OF THE " TIMES," were recognized, the germs of Free Trade were be* ginning to expand, the hurricane of Parliamentary- Reform had suffered a lull, the Roman Catholic question was making progress, the long adminis- tration of Lord Liverpool drawing to a close, the Cabinet of Canning had its day, the Duke of Wel- lington came into power, the Roman Catholics got into Parliament, and the " Times " retained its station as chief of the press. But for all this, who knew any more of John Walter? — rather the less. He conducted his affairs more and more through the agency of others, until many people began to forget that he was still the moving power in Printing House Square. From day to day he seemed more and more to become the country gentleman, and less and less a London citizen. In ] 830 he served as High Sheriff of Berks, and some began to think he had views to Parliament ; but it was not till after the Reform Act that his ambition pointed in that direction. The occasion of Reform in Parliament demanded once more all his judgment, all his discernment, all his knowledge of the masses. To the nation it was certainly the most important change since ]G88, and Printing House Square put on its armour. Walter felt that there was danger on every side. After passing the Roman Catholic Bill, the Legislature got through the session with as little delay as possible. The recess passed, and THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." 25 the Wellington Government opened the session under auspices that did not promise continuance. Then came the deposition of Charles the Tenth, a renewal of the agitation for Reform, the death of George IV., and the accession of a new King. The general election of 1830 took place, and now the ex- citement of the Reformers overleaped all bounds. The Parliament met in November, and to the dismay of the expectants, the Prime Minister declared not only that there was no need of Reform, but that no measure of that kind would be introduced by the Government so long as he was Minister. This declaration gave a greater shock to the framework of society than any it had suffered since the time of the Rebellion. The Duke resigned, and Lord Grey came into power. Amidst all this John Walter never showed the least indecision. He gave the Whigs his support so long as they were true to their own principles. The old party of Pitt, Per- ceval, Liverpool, and Wellington were now entirely overborne. The political unions were busy batter- ing down the portals of the Constitution. Men who had something to lose and nothing to gain were afraid for their homes and property. With his usual penetrating look into futurity, Walter saw the course he had to pursue, and, as frequently happens, it was destined that his duty and interest should go together. He foretold all the events that must come to pass, believing at the same time D 26 JOHN WALTEK OF THE " TIMES," that they would be for the benefit of his country. He was thus a reformer up to the point that reform has reached. In 1832 an address was sent to Walter to stand for Berkshire, and there seemed no reason to restrain him from accepting. He had a large estate, a com- petent fortune ; had been in the commission of the peace, and had discharged the duties of magistrate with judgment and humanity. He had served the office of Sheriff so as to earn more than the meed of praise, " creditably to himself and with advan- tage to his country ;" he had lived without reproach, and in coming forward he would displace no sitting Member. But he was a newspaper proprietor who had made his own fortune, and in some quarters such a man could not be forgiven for becoming so famous all by his own doings. Thus was he met in his canvass, which cost more trouble than any county is worth. But he was returned. His career in the House of Commons was just that of those who have acquired a reputation out- side. He had become a personage long before Berks honoured him by making him her represen- tative. He had directed public opinion so as to modify, stimulate, or render null many legislative proceedings. He gave a support to the "Whigs, but he belonged to no party ; and here again he set at defiance the rules which Parliament imposes on its pet speechmakers, It has been said that the working THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." 27 of his large benevolence obtained for hini the title of the poor man's magistrate ; but even this was but a slender passport to the favour of those who were sent there to represent the poor. Assuming, however, that all these impediments to Parliamen- tary success had been swept away, he would still have been no exception to the rule, that men who enter Parliament late in life encounter difficulties which prove too much for them. There certainly can be no doubt that Walter possessed talents that would have fitted him for being a successful Parlia- mentary leader. Beyond all, he had more than any man the gift of seeing into the future, while his qualities of statesmanship were not limited by a knowledge of what the nation wanted. If he had not studied books on the science of the lawgiver, he possessed the knowledge they impart. Indeed, in that respect he was in advance of his age ; and we of a new generation now admit the wisdom with which, in the days of our childhood, he based his views of change and improvement. Grattan, with a Milesian nourish, used to say of Chatham, that " the sight of his mind was infinite." Though we cannot say that Walter's vision was boundless, yet few will deny that its range was beyond that of ordinary men. Thirteen years before the close of the French revolutionary war, when Englishmen were in the slough of despond, he prophesied that they would be victorious. Twenty years before the 28 JOHN WALTER OF THE " TIMES," Roman Catholic Relief Bill passed lie warned the world that come it must. He long saw that Queen Caroline's enemies would be covered with shame. For twenty years he fought against the criminal laws of our country. Sixteen years before the pass- • ing of the Reform Bill he advocated such a measure, and in the changes of 1832 the world witnessed fresh evidence of his sagacity. If it be asked, then, what prevented him from occupying a high station in the councils of his country, the answer is three- fold : — He did not enter Parliament in his youth, he did not join a party, he did not limit his rela- tions to the interests of a clique. Though some- what rudely overborne in the House, on one sub- ject he could not be repressed — the rights and benefits of the pauper population ; and failing him- self to get a committee, he fought bravely in that subsequently appointed by the Government. When Queen Victoria ascended the throne, Walter ceased to be a Member of Parliament. He was now sixty-one, and was beginning to despair about the state of his health, and to speak about putting his house in order. In 1839 his hopes for the poor revived, and his indignation at their suf- ferings under the Poor-law suffered no abatement. In 1840 Mr Walter contested the borough of South- wark, and was defeated. In 1841 he was returned for Nottingham, and again at next election ; but a petition was presented against his return, and the THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." 29 decision of the Committee of Inquiry was against him. In 1845 he was induced to stand for Wind- sor, but in the midst of his hopes he was seized with a mortal illness. As a proof of the respect in which his memory was held, the electors of Nottingham, on the day after his decease, without canvass or preparation, returned his son, Mr J. Walter, to the House of Commons, by a large majority. Our narrative brings out the principal qualities of this remarkable man ; but there was one excel- lency which, though indicated, deserves a few more words — his shrinking sensibility in regard to favours. So careful was he to avoid the very appearance of evil where his honour was concerned, that he would not accept the slightest compliment that could be construed into an attempt to bias his judgment, bearing always in mind the saying, " a gift per- verteth the understanding of the wise." The fa- vours he rejected were without number. We may offer a curious instance. At the close of the Penin- sular war, a splendid tea service of gold was sent to him by the Spanish king, through the medium of the Ambassador, as a memorial of the spirit by which he had supported the contest. The glitter- ing bauble was unpacked to the wondering eyes of the females. They were in raptures at its beauty, nor had they any other notion than that it would grace Bearwood, and be an honour to the proprietor, when Walter coldly requested it to be returned to 30 JOHN WALTER OF THE " TIMES," its case, and sent back to the quarter from which it came. One of his principal amusements was fishing, and he expended large sums in the erection of artificial ponds. He had also a great love for the fine arts, his collection of Flemish pictures having been acknowledged to be the best in the kingdom. A character of this remarkable kind occurs so seldom, that one cannot refrain from a summation of it in the words adopted from Fielding, by one who knew him well. " But now should I tell the reader that I had known a man whose honesty and genius had enabled him to raise a large fortune in a way where no beginning was chalked out to him, that he had done this with the most perfect pre- servation of his integrity, and not only without the least injury or injustice to any one individual per- son, but to the highest advantage of trade and a vast increase of the public revenue ; that he had expended one part of the income of his fortune in discovering a taste superior to most by works where the highest dignity was combined with the purest simplicity ; and another part by displaying a degree of goodness superior to all men by acts of charity to objects whose only recommendation was their merits or their wants ; that he was most indus- trious in searching after merit in distress, more eager to relieve it and as careful to conceal it; that his house, his furniture, his garden, his table, his THE SOVEREIGN OF THE " FOURTH ESTATE." 31 private hospitality and public beneficence, all de- noted the mind from which they flowed, and were all intrinsically rich and noble without tinsel or ex- ternal ostentation ; that he filled every relation of life with the most adequate virtue ; that he was most piously religious to his Creator, most zeal- ously loyal to his Sovereign, a most tender husband, a kind relation, a munificent patron, a warm and firm friend, a knowing and a cheerful companion, indulgent to his servants, hospitable to his neigh- bours, charitable to the poor, and benevolent to all mankind. Should I add to these the epithets of brave, wise, elegant, and indeed every other laud- atory epithet in our language, I might say Quis credet nemo Hercule nemo Vel duo vel nemo. A.nd yet I knew a man who is all I have described." THE STORY OF THE FIRST INDIAN BARONET, SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBIIOY, THE TARSEE MERCHANT. There dwelt, many years ago, in the island of Bombay, a young Parsee or Fire Worshipper, a very poor youth. It is not often that any of this mild and gentle tribe rise above the very humble condition of artisans in their own jDeculiar way, for they are hampered by absurd laws and customs as old as Zoroaster, and to renounce these would be to give up their faith, a thing which seems almost impossible to these bigoted Orientals. But our youth was an exception, and a very extraordinary one. He began life with less substantial grounds for hope than those possessed by Alnaschar, of Arabian Nights notoriety, for whereas he of the wonderful story had an entire basketful of glass and earthenware, our modern Guebre possessed no more than two old wine bottles. In many parts of India bottles were held in great estimation, as, for ex- ample, in Scinde, where, when it was first occupied by the British, a couple of fowls could be obtained for an old porter-bottle. This capital was certainly a small one for a merchant to begin the world with, but everything in the race of life depends upon a good start, and our Parsee youth disposed of them with a profit. This enabled him to buy more ; agi i i 1 1 he made a profitable bargain, until he became a regular lottle-wallah, that is. dealer in buttles. SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY. 33 Our Parsee gradually accumulated annas till they grew into rupees, and he became a thriving trader. All this shewed sagacity of no mean order, but by and by he proved himself fit for greater things. In one transaction he cleared i?10,000 by a stroke of his pen. From that moment his progress was unusually rapid. He learned to speak the language, and studied the mercantile policy, of the white-faced strangers who rule the land of the East, shewing himself as in- dustrious, self-denying, and quick-witted as a Euro- pean. By these and other means he soon realised a fortune of some hundreds of thousands of pounds a-year, and a reputation which extended not only over the East, but reached the countries of the West, even to that of the New World ; so that it might be said of his career that nothing more wonderful has happened since the day when As- modeus himself came out of the bottle. The subject of this romantic narrative was Jam- setjee Jejeebhoy, a name now familiar in this country. His more prosaic history, though not more true, tells us that he was born at Bombay on 15th July 1783 ; but we need not dwell on the means by which he made his fortune, for, after all, it is the manner in which fortunes are used and applied for the benefit of mankind, which truly constitutes the worth of a successful speculator. We will serve the purpose of such histories better by looking at the spirit which actuated this fortu- E 34 THE STOEY OF THE FIRST INDIAN BARONET, nate and excellent man. He married on the 1st of March 1803, Awabaee Framjee, daughter of Fram- jee Pestonjee, a merchant in Bombay, and by her he had three sons and a daughter. His affluence enabled him to live in that splendour which the people of the East like so well. "It was while seated at his table," says one, "in a bungalow he had purchased on the Kandallah hills, and which he lent to our party as a place of rest during the ascent, that we first heard the story of the achieve- ment of his wealth, and, gazing on the splendour around us, the two bottles appeared little else than an eastern fable. The land for many a mile round was his ; the plantations of roses, covering whole acres. And then the luxury of this country retreat — the European furniture — the costly china dinner- service manufactured for him, and bearing his arms and initials — the plate, and servants, and rich viands, all from such a small beginning. It was marvellous as a fairy tale." It was, indeed, the great pride and honour of this amiable heathen that he spent his wealth as liberally as he had earned it carefully, in which respect he might form a noble example for many of our suc- cessful merchants in England, whose care in mak- ing too often becomes a habit which attaches itself to their rnanner of spending. But in the instance of this foreigner we find the noble sentiment of benevolence far more prominent than his love of personal enjoyment. His charity scarcely knew a, THE FIRST INDIAN BARONET AND HIS TWO OLD WINE BOTTLES. Gazing on the splendour around us, the two l.o(Ui s appeared little else tlian :m e:is(ern fiihle. The land for many a mile round was lii> ; the plantations oi rosea cuver'nic. wiiole acres. Thin the luxurj of this retreat, ami all from such a small beginning. It was marvellous as a Eiirj tale.— Pack Si. SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY. 35 bound, nor was it directed merely to those of his own country and faith. In one year he gave away in alms to the poor, English as well as native, the enormous sum of .£90,000, for which he received the thanks of the Queen of England, and her like- ness set in diamonds, besides the first title of knight- hood bestowed on an Oriental since the days of Saladin. He founded also a noble hospital, and his wife, Awabaee, who vied with him in his gene- rosity, gave her jewels to form a causeway between the islands of Bombay and Salsetto. Nor did he ever drive out without taking along with him in his carriage bags of small coin to fling to the mendi- cants who thronged his path. It is not by individual instances that we can arrive at the true extent of the generosity of a man whose heart is always beating with feelings of sympathy for the sufferings of mankind, for such persons have a native reluctance to let their bene- volence be known — the true zest being generally enjoyed in secret. And such was the case with this son of Shem. There was no work of charity nor undertaking of utility in which Sir Jamsetjee did not take an active part. It is said that his public donations amounted alone to ^300,000. The good he did in private was incalculable. Another phase of his character not less honourable to him was, that as a native Indian of fortune and high position, he was of infinite service to the British Government in India. Their beneficent 36 THE STORY OF THE FIRST INDIAN BARONET. rule he never ceased to maintain with all the energy in his power. At the period of the late re- bellion on the part of the infatuated natives he used all his influence to prevent the mutinous spirit from approaching the presidency of Bombay, having set to the natives a noble example of his fidelity and patriotism by transmitting to the Queen a letter couched in elegant terms, wherein he de- clared his firm adherence to the Crown of England. Her Majesty was not slow in again recognising the merit of this patriotic merchant. He and his sons were placed in the commission of the peace, and having in 1842 been erected a Knight Bachelor by patent, he was now raised to the greater dignity of a Baronet of the United Kingdom. In choosing his armorial insignia he adopted the sun in his splendour, rising over the Gautz mountain, near Bombay, an appropriate and beautiful allusion to the ancient faith of the Parsees, which regards the day star as the most adorable of all God's works. Not less appropriate was his motto, " Industry and liberality" — representing the means by which he had raised himself, and those qualities which are among the most amiable and useful that adorn humanity. This remarkable person died full of honours on the 14th of April 1859. He was succeeded in his Baronetcy by his eldest son Cursetjce, who, as Sir Cursetjcc Jamsetjee, became the second holder of a title so honourably won and so wisely bestowed. HERBERT MINTON AND JOSIAH WEDGWOOD; OR THE HISTORY OF A TEA-CUP AND TWO GREAT POTTERS. Staffordshire has been long celebrated as the seat of potteries. A stranger, in passing along the streets of Stoke-upon-Trent at the hour when the various works were discharging their hands, would be led to believe that he had alighted in a land of bakers — almost all the faces and persons of those you meet with being covered with a fine coat of white dough. Such is the character of the clay with which they work. The main peculiarity of Stoke is, that you never know when you are in it. The potteries from be- ginning to end are one long series of reddish brick, grimy hair, and white faces. Though Stoke is the nucleus of the whole district, there is nothing to mark it ; at least nothing visible ; no market-place, no town-hall, no main-street, no large shops, — nothing, in short, by which you generally distin- guish a chief town. Talking of shops, you expect to see window after window filled with the chefs- 38 THE HISTORY OF A TEA-CUP d'amvres of Copeland's, Minton's, and Wedgwood's works ; but the potteries is the worst place to buy crockery in, except on a large scale. Nothing is here made except to order, and very little is kept on hand, for it appears that, in this branch of trade, as much as in ladies' dresses, there is a very variable fashion, and tljat a pattern which was all the rage one year may be unsaleable the next. The works have, indeed, all of them show-rooms, but only for the convenience of wholesale buyers, and they do not therefore rejoice in much brilliance or beauty. As you walk along the streets you see here and there, high up, in some long building, which you know to be a "works," large dingy windows filled with piles of plates, dishes, basons, and other articles of crockery. These are the show- rooms, and in these is kept the only stock on hand. Minton's is, I believe, the only establishment which deviates from this rule. Its show-room is a little exhibition, a ceramic court in itself, containing some of the finest gems of the famous Parian work, and pieces of such beauty that you could scarcely believe that they had issued from the dirty dingy factories you have been roaming through. But Minton has a name above all others among the common public, and in the summer they have often between two and three hundred visitors a-day in that very show-room. Staffordshire was not selected for a potting dis- AND TWO GREAT POTTERS. 39 trict on account of the excellence of its clay. The native clay is used only for making the large round brown pans called saggers, in which the crockery is placed when undergoing the process of baking. These saggers are used again and again until they become so cracked as to be unfit for further use. The fine clays are brought from Dorsetshire and Cornwall, and appear to differ only in colour, the one being rather greyer than the other. Coal, however, is very abundant in the pottery districts. The clay from Cornwall and Dorsetshire comes in uncouth hideous masses ; and alongside of it may be seen great heaps of flint, procured from Graves- end and Ramsgate. The flint is broken into small chips by means of huge wooden beams, shod with massive iron. These chips are then ground to powder. At one time this was done in a dry state, the consequence of which was that the men em- ployed on this branch of the work were very soon blinded. The chips are now ground in water. A large mill, like a cider mill, with a bottom of hard, smooth stone, is filled with a succession of great, heavy boulders. The broken flint is thrown into this, water poured on, and the machinery set going. The heavy stones rush rapidly round, crushing the hard chips to a fine powder, which, still in a state of solution, is passed through a succession of sieves, till you find it at last in a large tank of clear water, with a very white sediment of flint at the bottom, 40 THE HISTOKY OF A TEA-CUP which is afterwards mixed with the clay to give it whiteness, hardness, and transparency. The refining of the clay itself is called slipping, the place thereof a slip-house, and the solution itself slip. After being broken up and diluted, it is passed through vibrating sieves of various degrees of fineness, mixed with the prepared flint, and, finally, poured out over a large flat surface, heated by a multitude of ovens, and allowed to simmer till the water is all evaporated, and a thick slimy paste left on the pan. This is collected in fat doughy lumps, and carried off to another place of torture in the shape of a mill, the interior of which is filled with circular knives, which mince it and mince it, again and again, and press it together, till it issues at the bottom a beautiful compact oblong mass. The clay thus prepared is ready now to be made into any piece of crockery, from a Wedgwood vase to a washhand-basin. When the clay is ready for use, the next thing to do is to give it a shape. The ways of effecting this are mainly three — throwing, moulding, and the making of flat ware. There is also a most im- portant process called turning. The first and simplest, then, is throwing. Now, I presume, that all my readers have read their Bibles, and a few, probably, have some classical reading besides. If so, they have constantly met with the mention of the potter's wheel ; yet few pro- AND TWO GREAT POTTERS. 41 bably know precisely what a potter's wheel is. They know that it is a rotatory machine of some description ; they have found it referred to in heathen philosophers as a type of universal law, upon which nature, or the Creator, casts the ma- terial essence of all things, and bids them revolve, while he fashions them at will. In Hindu philo- sophy they have seen it used as a symbol of ecstatic existence, wherein the life of the devotee is said to go on in this world, after his soul is joined to the Supreme Being by contemplation, "even as the potter's wheel revolves after the pot is fashioned and removed." But do they know what it is. The potter's wheel, then, was the earliest of un- patented inventions, and is exceedingly simple in construction. Take any round, flat thing, a stone, if you will, if only flat enough, thin enough, and round enough ; squat on your haunches ; stick the round thing on your knees ; twirl it round ; throw a bit of clay upon it, and you have a potter's wheel, and can make the clay into a cup, pot, pan, or what you will, in a minute. Now, simple as this is, the wheel of to-day is very little improved upon it, merely because it needed very little improvement. As far as we know, some such contrivance has ex- isted in all climes and ages. Certain it is that if you go to the other end of the globe, to China or Japan, you will find a similar simple machine still used even for these wonderful productions of cera- F 42 THE HISTOEY OF A TEA-CUP mic art, which no Europeans have been able to copy with success. In a Japanese work on pottery, the wheel is described as consisting of two flat discs attached to a staff revolving in a socket fixed in the ground. The lower disc is at a height to which the feet of the potter can conveniently reach ; the upper is just below his hand. The workman, seated on a stool, places his bare feet on the lower one, and with them turns it and the staff together, at a rapid rate. Thus the upper disc is made to revolve, and the potter can quicken or slacken the motion at will. The wheel used in Europe differs from this only in being turned by a strap, which is again passed round a large vertical wheel, worked by a boy or woman. The Jaj>anese method undoubtedly saves labour, but it must be somewhat awkward for the thrower. By this time you have gathered that the potter's wheel is a flat round disc, placed horizon- tally at a convenient elevation before the maker of pots. This man is seated, and the elevation is therefore generally between three and four feet from the ground. He is called a thrower, and the process of making pots on the wheel is called throwing, because the maker takes a lump of clay, and while the wheel is rapidly revolving, throivs it upon its centre. He then sticks his fingers or thumbs, as he pleases, into the middle of the clay, and as this whirls swiftly round, the mere positioD AND TWO GKEAT POTTERS. 43 of his fingers makes a hollow, which he can increase at pleasure by pushing them outwards or down- wards or both. The object of the wheel is now obvious. If you wanted to make a cup out of a stationary lump of clay, you would stick in your fingers and move them round and round till you had hollowed it out sufficiently. By making the clay go round instead of your fingers, you spare time and labour, and in- sure accuracy, and the purpose of the wheel is to whirl the clay round for you. So simple is the art, and so easy is it to fashion upon the wheel what you please, as long as it is to have a round bottom to it, that a boy can make the rough por- tion of a whole set of tea-things in about five minutes. The main difficulties are to select the proper quantity of clay for the pot you design to make, and to make it of the requisite height. The former is almost always done by the eye, but in cases where extreme lightness is a desideratum, as when the crockery is made for exportation, the clay is weighed out before being thrown, which, of course, demands both time and labour. The exact height is obtained by a couple of stationary needles, which reach over the wheel and can be readily adjusted to the required height and breadth. The lower and shorter one serves to de- termine the height and breadth of the bulging part of the pot ; the upper that of the rim above it. 44 THE HISTORY OF A TEA-CUP As a general rule, throwing takes three "hands;" a woman to turn the large vertical wheel over which the strap passes ; a boy to measure and hand the pats of clay to the thrower, and the thrower himself. The process is so rapid, that one or two throwers can make pots enough of every descrip- tion to supply a large factory. The speed in the wheel's revolution has, however, to be constantly varied, and requires to be slackened when the pot, having attained a certain shape, requires a few touches to perfect it. Where a woman is employed to turn the big wheel, this is done by practice, but where the whole machinery is moved by steam, the strap has to be passed over a huge inverted cone, and a boy is then occupied with raising or lower- ing the strap upon the cone, when, as its diameter is increased or diminished, the speed is accord- ingly slackened or increased. Steam is, however, very little used in the potteries. Strictly speaking, a pot is any earthen vessel that can hold water conveniently, and all such might be made upon the simple potter's wheel, as long as the bottom is round. But it is not con- venient to make the larger vessels in this manner, and it is impossible to fashion on the wheel those whose bottoms are square, oblong, or of any other form. Such is the case with wash-hand basins, soap-dishes, soup-tureens, and hundreds of other vessels in common use, and these are therefore AND TWO GREAT POTTERS. 45 made in plaster of Paris moulds. These generally contain only half the vessel, and when the clay has been rolled in and well fitted, the two halves are stuck firmly together, the seam thus made is smoothed off with a flat knife, and when the clay has dried sufficiently to insure the adhesion of the portions, the mould is removed and the vessel is complete. Akin to the large family of pots is the less ex- tensive one of plates, dishes, saucers, &c. These, too, might be made in the ordinary way upon the wheel, but it would be difficult to obtain the requisite flatness. They are therefore made as follows : Upon a wheel is placed a " form," resem- bling a plate or dish laid upon its face, with the lower side uppermost. Over this the clay is spread out, after being rolled into the shape of a biscuit • a turn is then given to the wheel, and the workman with his fingers or a flat knife presses down both the rims and the bottom, so as to insure an even thickness throughout. The plate is left on the form, and when, after drying, the clay has ceased to adhere to the form, the latter is turned up and the plate drops from it. The handles and knobs are generally made by the hand or with a blunt knife. The moist clay is rolled out and cut into strips. These are taken up, turned with the greatest ease into any shape you please, and stuck on. 4G THE HISTOKY OF A TEA-CUP The wheel, the mould, and the form suffice to make all the ordinary crockery which covers our tables or is wanted for our bed-rooms. In moulding and making of flat ware, the clay must dry to a certain extent before it can be re- moved. To save time and labour, the galleries in which these two branches of the manufacture are worked are fitted with shelves, to which the moulds and the forms are transferred. These workshops must therefore be heated. to a certain extent, and it is this heat which is so injurious to the health of the workman. In our description of the various processes, let us follow the manufacture of a tea-cup. Flop, then, the clay upon the whirring plate, — the shapeless, meaningless, unsuggestive clay. Hail to the tea- cup, and let us sing its birth ! It shall be our hero. Our tea-cup has been turned off the wheel and is laid on a shelf. A dozen brother tea-cups soon join it, all new-born and unweaned. Then in due time comes a man with a long narrow tray, balanced on his crown, sets it down, and with two hands to each, picks up the quivering, still moist little cuplings, and ranges them along it. Thus he bears them to a warm drying-room. It is strange when you enter a pottery, to see these men hurry- ing to and fro with boards covered with cups, loosely holding them with one hand, and you who have broken a whole service, and have been so AND TWO GREAT POTTERS. 47 often assured by Buttons that " them things is so brittle, Sir," are quite amazed to see them whirled recklessly about. When sufficiently dried to be crisp, but not yet hard, our tea-cup is carried to the turning gallery, to be turned, as they call it ; in other words, to have his surface smoothed and his edges sharpened. Here, too, the principle of circulation is in force, and the turner has a wheel not unlike the potter's, except that it is worked by a footboard, such as we see in the machine of the knife-grinder. The process is simple enough. The turner having set our tea-cup upside down upon his wheel, takes in his two hands, which keep it steadier than one could do, a sharp-edged knife in the shape of a half-moon, the outer or convex edge of which he applies to the surface of the little cup. Down goes his foot, round goes the wheel, and every excrescence and roughness on the face .of our infant flies off in flakes or is left clinging to the knife, till in due time the baby pot comes out smooth, clean, and sharp. Sometimes the turner sets his own wheel going by means of a foot-board ; sometimes a boy is kept to dance it round ; and in some few cases a whole gallery of turning wheels are worked by steam. When this is the case, the speed is regulated by an arrangement of cones over which the main strap passes. The creation of the pot being perhaps the most 48 THE HISTORY OF A TEA-CUP important part of the whole manufacture, is left to men or sharp practised lads. The women are employed in turning the wheels. The painting, printing, gilding, &c, as we shall see hereafter, is almost exclusively performed by female hands. Throwing, moulding, and turning demand accuracy and firmness ; printing and the commoner painting, nothing but a delicate touch. Our cupling already looks neater. He left the thrower a quivering, grey, slimy little wretch ; has now a bright polished look, a certain firmness, smoothness, and fitness about him, and you think that if by any fatality he should be left untended from this moment, you might still make use of him to sip your tea out of, although he is not yet pretty. But we now come to a very important epoch in its young career. For two days and two nights will our young friend be baked alive. Within the hovel or kiln is another building of much the same form, and within that is placed the crockery. There was a fierce glare and roar of blazing fire, and we soon saw that round the bottom of the inner building were ranged a number of blazing stoves, which had recently been bricked up, as the slightest breath of cold wind striking the pots when in a candescent state, would crack them. Every opening is therefore carefully walled up. And how does our little cup do in there ? quite AND TWO GREAT POTTERS. 49 as well as could be expected. He is sitting on a couple of tiny earthenware stools, which consist simply of a bar with two legs ; which stools or setters are placed upon the cups below, which rest on the bottom of a large yellow sagger. These saggers are filled with pieces of crockery which are kept separate by the setters described. They are then carried to the hovel and ranged in layers all round it, till the centre even is reached ; for a hovel is never lit up till there is enough to fill it completely. The baking. or firing then com- mences, the openings having been carefully bricked and plastered up, and the heat is gradually increased up to a certain point, from which it is as gradually diminished till the fires are out, and the sagforers and their contents are then left to cool slowly in the hovel. The tea-cup is now in reality ready for use, and is carried to the printing-room to be adorned. Almost all the crockery we now use in Europe is painted in certain fixed patterns, which are first printed upon it. It is only the luxurious gems which are painted by the hand after designs, and a service thus adorned is an extravagance in which only the wealthy can indulge. The patterns, then, are first engraved upon copper plates, and transferred, by means of a thick bluish pigment, to slips of very thin paper. These are applied, while still moist, to the surface of the cup. Q 50 THE HISTORY OF A TEA-CUP The clay at once receives the colour, and the paper is removed gently by means of a small sponge, leaving the pattern on the cup. This is generally done by women. In some cases this pattern is sufficient, but in others it is merely printed in outline, and the cup is then carried to a gallery filled with girls and women, each provided with brushes and dishes of paint, which they proceed to lay on in the lines marked by the pattern. The art is easy enough in general, as little shading is required. Our cup is now covered with a rich flower pat- tern of very dark, dull-looking blue, and a similar red, and you feel doubtful what it will turn out at last, for certainly it is not beautiful at present. There is hope for it, however, for it is borne away to another room, filled not only with women, but with an odour of turpentine that is quite over- powering. Here another young female takes our little friend in hand, and, with a fine brush, applies to his edge, and to certain places in the pattern, thin streaks of a dark brown gluey matter, which looks more and more suspicious. Then our wean- ling, looking uglier, if possible, than the day he was born, is allowed to dry, and then carried down for his last operation. There stand two huge tubs of thick white mat- ter, and there in the corner is a heap of broken cups, saucers, or what not. There a workman takes AND TWO GREAT POTTERS. 51 my cupling by the handle, and dips him gingerly into the white lake. If he does not slip from the dipper's fingers and break — an accident which may happen sometimes — he comes out -with a thick white paletot of glaze upon him, and not a vestige of any other colour. But wait a minute ; a minute ! what am I saying ? Wait ten whole hours while the second firing is going on, and then draw him out, Splendido ! The dark, dull blue is bright and shiny, the red is rich and clear ; the ugly brown stuff is converted into a bright rim of gilt ; the white ground is smooth, shiny, and glassy. The "dipping," which is the technical name for glazing, and the firing together have done this. " He's been a long time about it," quoth I to my guide. "Ay," said he, "let me see, there's throwing, drying, turning, handling, firing for forty-eight hours, printing, painting, gilding, dipping, and firing again for ten hours, with chying periods be- tween, and altogether that cup, which is but a common one, must have taken very nearly a week. If it had been more elaborate, it might have wanted even ten days." " Well, and what becomes of it now ?" He took it up in his hand, looked at it narrowly, shook his head, and threw it into the corner, where it danced into a dozen pieces. " Only to be broken !" I cried in anguish ; " mv long- watched infant 1" 52 MINTON AST) WEDGWOOD. " A flaw there," said he, to pacify my indigna- tion, " which I wouldn't have go out with my mark at the bottom for anything. It is rubbish now, fit for mending the roads." " But if there had been no flaw 1" " It would have been packed with the rest in a crate, and sent to its destination." We have now done with ordinary pottery, and shall give a few words to two branches of it which wo shall see best at Minton's. The late Mr Herbert Minton was one of those energetic, onward spirits, whose steady perseverance and final success are the glory of our manufacturing districts. His father, I believe, was but a working engraver of patterns for potting ; the son has left behind him three enormous establishments, employ- ing as many hands, and doing as large a business as any in the potteries, unless Messrs Copeland's form the exception. Nor that alone. He has left behind him a name respected and honoured by all. Nor was he content only to make a fortune. In his sphere his aims were the highest they could be. He struck out new ideas in pottery, which he helped to raise in England to the place which it holds on the Continent. His excellent heart and liberal hand worked together to devise and carry out im- provements of the workmen no less than of their MINTON AND WEDGWOOD. 53 work, and, in a word, he left an example which it would be well for every master potter to strive to follow. Two branches which he originated or developed have gained him a name through Europe and the world. "We pave our halls and our churches, and we support our tea-urns, with' Minton's encaustic tiles. In the manufacture of these, separate layers of differently coloured clays are spread one over another, and then subjected to a very powerful pressure, bringing out the pattern and causing them to unite in a firm compact square, which then passes through the usual processes. The preparation of the Parian is, of course, more or less a secret. Every potter has some secret of his own, or which he believes to be his own, and he is rather jealous of your seeing his works on that account. But where so many workmen are employed, it is not probable that any secret can be long kept. Copeland's and Minton's are the two establishments at which most Parian work is done, and their productions have, I believe, the highest value. The " body " used in each estab- lishment differs a little, according to the ingredients in each, and, in consequence, Copeland's Parian is of a somewhat darker tint than that of his rival. When the body or material is ready for use, it may be fashioned in two ways, either in plaster of Paris moulds, or simply in the hand. The former 54 MINTON AND WEDGWOOD. is adopted for statuettes, of which every limb is first cast separately, and then fixed to the trunk. Great precision is obviously necessary in uniting these parts, and the workman who does it is an artist in his way, working from a cast of the figure to be copied, which is set before him. I noticed a head which seemed familiar to me, and was just about to be added to a body clothed in regimentals. There was the generous, beaming eye, broad brow, and firm mouth, and you saw perseverance, courage, and the respect of duty in all the features, about which there was yet a mildness and benevolence which inspired affection. I looked again. The head was Havelock's. " We cannot make them fast enough," said my guide. No wonder. Who would not wish to have that honest, noble face to look upon, to spirit him on to deeds of duty and perseverance such as his were ? I passed into the room where they were working with the hand, and stood for nearly a quarter of an hour over one man. From a lump of j)repared Parian he would nip off a tiny bit, place it in the hollow of his left hand, and, with the forefinger of the right, smooth it out, giving it a delicate wave and turn. Then, with a modelling pencil, he would delicately mark a few light lines towards the thin end of it, and then lay it on the table before him. Another, and another, and another, differing but MINTON AND WEDGWOOD. 55 little, and then, turning this way and that, he joined them together. Lo ! there was a heart's-ease be- fore me. Paint it, and I would have put it into a glass of water, so natural was it. He saw me watching him, and took another bit of the clay. Quick as thought leaf after leaf was laid on the table. What was it to be ? Surely he has leaves enough. Not he. He knows all about it. More and more, growing larger and larger, curling more and more. Then to wag his head again, and deli- cately to set them together, but so secretly that I could not tell what it should be. Then a fine thin strip ; stick it on ; and then, turning to me, he presented me with a rose, which wanted no- thing but hue and scent to have blossomed in my own garden. "That man must be an artist," said I to my guide. " He is, but self-taught. He begins by copying from the living flower, and in time can work by memory." Every one has seen a vase of Wedgwood jasper, and noticed the minute delicate white flowers on the deep blue ground. Well, every leaf, every petal of those little blossoms is made by hand separately. Man cannot make roses and lilies, but he can mock them so perfectly that you are fain to cry, " What power is given to man, and yet how powerless he is !" Talking of Wedgwood ; asper brings me to Etruria. 56 MINTON AND WEDGWOOD. About a mile or so from Stoke is a very ugly village. It consists of one straight regular street of small two-storeyed red brick cottages, containing altogether a population of eight or nine hundred adults, two-thirds of whom are in the employ of Messrs Wedgwood. When you reach the top of this street, you find on the right hand a new and very pretty church — on the left, the old-fashioned extensive works built by the great Wedgwood ; and before you, on a rising ground, standing prettily among some fine trees, a large handsome red-brick house. When Josiah Wedgwood came from Burs- lem in the latter half of last century, this street, those works, and that mansion, existed only in his hopeful mind. Before he died, they were all there in the more substantial and satisfactory form of bricks and mortar, and the creations of his energy had been christened by the classic name of Etruria. The name of Wedgwood is an old one in Staf- fordshire, and by no means uncommon. Josiah, called the "great" Wedgwood, to distinguish him from many others of his name, was born of parents in humble circumstances, who followed the trade of potters in Burslem. Josiah Wedgwood was an example of the use- fulness of seeing the evil as well as the good in things that be. The potteries in his day were an " insti- tution," Ninety-nine men out of every hundred MINTON AND WEDGWOOD. 57 were content with this, and thought them quite as good as they needed to be. Wedgwood saw that there was immense room for improvement, and was not to be blindfolded by prejudice. He found that narrowing utilitarian spirit, which at one time threa- tened to cramp the whole English character. " "We make," said the potters of his day, "everything that is really wanted for plain use. Let Sevres and Dresden produce their articles de luxe; we will continue to supply what is useful, and leave the beautiful alone." The consequence was, that as yet the Potteries were in every respect far behind those of all other countries, and had but a limited trade. In another fifty years they might have become extinct, but a great, progressive, resolute character saved them. This man had a better education and finer taste than his fellows, and he saw at once, that if we wanted to improve our pottery, our native art failing, we must copy from good models. The Etruscan vases supplied a " form" of which we had no conception. This form he determined to copy, and we now understand that it was no presumption to christen the works which he built, and the village which he founded, by the name of the Roman province. Once the ceramic art revived in England, and he was soon enabled to establish it on a proper foot- ing. He knew that the best policy was to employ the best workmen, and he shrank from no expense R 58 MINTON AND WEDGWOOD. in procuring the aid of talented designers, chemists, and men of science. Among these was Flaxman, who copied for him the famous Portland or Barberini vase. The cele- brated Duchess of Portland, the friend of Mrs Elizabeth Montagu and daughter of Harley, Queen Anne's minister, lent it to the potter to be cojDied. Its value was fabulous, and even the copy was priced at forty guineas. Now, I fancy, it is worth four times that sum. William Theed, another gifted artist and most amiable man, for a long time devoted all his talents to the improvements at Etruria. Howard, again, sketched the forms of many of those vases which are taken from Hercu- lanean remains. Among the chemists were Leslie, long professor in the University of Edinburgh ; and Chisholm, a worthy old bachelor, who worked out the ideas and suggestions of others. In fact, Etruria soon became the resort of scien- tific men, among whom was Sir James Hall, the father of Basil Hall. Nor did Wedgwood's family deteriorate from the position gained by their father. He had married a cousin, a Miss Wedgwood, a lady of cultivated mind and good education, by whom he had three sons and three daughters, among whom he left about ^l 00,000, and considerable landed property. The eldest son became a partner in Davidson's bank ; the second succeeded his father in the business, and the third, Thomas, MINTGN AKD WEDGWOOD. 59 whose travelling companion was Coleridge himself, was a man of fine parts. It is not generally known that he was the first person to bring forward Sir Humphrey Davy. Walking by the sea at Penzance one day, Mr Thomas "Wedgwood saw a boy picking up seaweed and rock plants. He spoke to him, and was so pleased with his answers, that he under- took to secure for him an education which should develop his latent capacities. He wrote in his be- half to Dr Beddoes, who had married a sister of Maria Edgeworth, Avith whom the Wedgwoods were intimate. The Doctor received Davy as pupil or assistant at Clifton, and Mr Wedgwood supplied the necessary funds. Like Herbert Minton, Josiah Wedgwood la- boured as much for the improvement of his work- men as of their work. His disposition was kind and benevolent, and he was universally liked. By the side of the works runs the canal which supplies the Pottery district. Richard Brindley, a native genius, of whom it is said that he could neither read nor write to the day of his death, constructed his first lock at about two miles from that spot, and the day on which it was opened, and found to be perfectly safe and serviceable, was one of general rejoicing in that country. Wedgwood certainly owed much of his fortune to the canal. Nor was it used only for the carriage of crockery and plaster of Paris. Canals were the railroads of those days. 60 MINTON AND WEDGWOOD. Wedgwood did much for the Potteries. If not their founder, he was their developer. It was he who gave them taste, and encouraged the study of art among them. "Without him England might never have rivalled the countries of Europe in her ceramic productions. He, too, has given a name to pottery which may well rank near that of Palissy. He laid the foundation of the fortunes of the whole Potteries, and helped to raise them into what they are. A district like the Potteries gains much from due honour offered to its great men. Their names are incentives for ever to young spirits, and living consolations to the struggling workman. THE "PORTLAND" OR "BARBERINI" VASE. The proceedings connected with Josiah Wedgwood's attendance at the sale of the famous Portland Vase, form a characteristic inci- dent in the life of the famous potter, whose taste, fancy, and en- terprise turned the currentof an important branch of industry, and at length made Great Britain the exporter and not the importer of the finer earthen wares. The same spirit which prompted Wedgwood to obtain the vase was that which led him to spare no pains to perfect every mechanical process, and no cost in order to secure the first artistic talent and the best models. He was alike admirable as the builder of a large fortune acquired by com- mendable enterprise, and as the public-spirited, open-hearted dis- tributor of wealth — spending his money on beneficial objects and institutions, and making himself a benefactor to the poor in the most thorough sense of the term. The celebrated antique vase or sepulchral urn known as the Port- land or Barberini vase is now deposited in the British Museum. It was dug up near Rome by Pope Barberini, named Urban VITI., between the years 1G23 and 1G44, and for a long time it THE PORTLAND VASE. Gl formed the principal ornament of the palace of the Barberini family. This beautiful relic of antiquity was found enclosed in a sarcophagus, supposed to have been that of Alexander Severus, and Julia Mammasa, his mother. The height of the vase is about ten inches, and its diameter, where broadest, six. There are upon it a variety of figures of exquisite workmanship, in basso relievo, in white opaque glass, on a ground of deep blue glass, which appears black except when held against the light. It seems to have been the work of many years, and there are antiquaries who date its production several centuries before the Christian era ; since sculpture was declining in excellence even in the time of Alexander the Great. Veltheim thinks it represents the history of Alceste, who is restored to Admetus by Hercules, whilst the Sarcophagus (which is still in the Vatican,) represents the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon about Briseis. The following is the history of the Vase since it came to this country : — It was purchased by the Duchess of Portland when offered for sale by Sir William Hamilton — the price paid being eighteen hundred guineas. On that occasion Wedgwood was the competitor. He was then engaged in the higher branches of his manufacture, and especially in acquiring or obtaining the loan of specimens of sculpture, vases, cameos, intaglios, medallions and seals, suitable for imitation by some of the many processes he had introduced. Wedgwood's ingenious workmen produced many accurate and beautiful copies of such things. Accordingly, when the Barberini vase was offered for sale, considering that many persons to whom the original was unattainable might be willing to pay a handsome price for a good copy of it, he endeavoured to become the purchaser, and for some time continued to offer an advance upon each bidding of the Duchess of Portland. At length, when the bidding rose to the large sum already named, his motive being ascertained by the agent of the Duchess, he was offered the loan of the vase on condition of withdrawing his opposition, a proposal to which he agreed. It is stated that Wedgwood sold the fifty copies which he subsequently executed at fifty guineas each, but that his expenditure in producing them exceeded the amount thus obtained. When the Portland Museum was dispersed by auction in 1786, the Vase was bought by the Duke for 1029 guineas, and deposited in the British Museum by his Grace in 1810. In 1845 a visitor to the British Museum wantonly smashed the Vase (through ner- vous excitement, consequent on intemperance, according to the statement in court.) It was carefully restored and is now depo- sited in a room specially set apart for its exhibition under suit- able restrictions. GEORGE HERIOT THE SHREWD GOLDSMITH. George Heriot's Hospital, the wealthiest cha- ritable endowment in Scotland, and one of the noblest monuments ever reared to the memory of a private individual, occupies a prominent place among the public buildings of Edinburgh. It stands on a rising ground overlooking the Grass- market, being part of the most southerly of the three main eminences on which the city is built. Previously to the erection of the New Town, it was considered the finest architectural ornament of the Scottish metropolis. The building was begun in 1628, and completed in 1650, from a design by the celebrated Inigo Jones, in which the Gothic, Greek, and Roman styles of architecture are singularly, but not inharmoniously, blended. It forms a spa- cious quadrangular structure, 162 feet each way on the outside, three storeys in height in the central parts, and four at the corners, which arc surmounted by turrets in the eastern style ; the entire building containing upwards of two hundred windows, each of which is noted for having a different ornamental device. Fronting to the Castle Hill is the main entrance, surmounted by the arms of the founder, above which rises a lofty tower and spire. This GEOEGE HERIOT. 63 gateway conducts to the inner court, 94 feet square, with an arcade on the north and east sides. On the south side, directly opposite the entrance, is the chapel — a fine apartment, 61 feet long by 22 in breadth. It is paved with black and white marble, and the glass of the windows is beautifully stained ; this part of the building is also surmounted by a tower and spire. The whole edifice is enclosed by a splendid terraced balustrade of stone, and by spacious pleasure-grounds, laid out with excellent taste. The entire cost of its erection was some- where about .£30,000 — an enormous sum for the times ; its present revenues amount to nearly £15,000 per annum, which are derived chiefly from feu-duties and other landed property within and around Edinburgh. About £10,000 are expended on the mainterance and education of 180 youths within the hospital, who must be freemen's sons of Edinburgh, while the remainder has for a number of years past been appropriated to the erection and support of several foundation-schools for the educa- tion of the children of burgesses and the poor within the city. Descended from a respectable and ancient family in East Lothian, who there possessed the small patrimony of Trabroun, George Heriot was born at Edinburgh in June, 1563. His father was a goldsmith in the city — an occupation which was then identified with the professions of banker and 64 GEORGE HERIOT pawnbroker. Of the early history of George, who was the eldest of ten children, very little is known ; and for the most complete and well-authenticated particulars in his after history we are indebted to the painstaking and laborious researches of the late Dr Steven, minister of Trinity College Church, Edin- burgh, and at one time Governor of Heriot's Hos- pital. Having been apprenticed to his father's trade, and thoroughly initiated into the different branches of that business, George deter min ed, when yet a young man, to commence on his own account. Previously to doing so, however, he had resolved to marry. On the 14th of January, 1586, accordingly, in the twenty-third year of his age, he entered into a contract of marriage with Christian, daughter of the then deceased Simon Marjoribanks, merchant in Edinburgh. The connection was highly respect- able. The united capital of the two is said to have been ,£214, lis. 8d. sterling. Heriot thus began business with considerable advantage. The traditionary statement, that he had the good for- tune at this period, when passing one day along the harbour of Leith, to espy, in the sand or ballast discharging from a foreign vessel, a large proportion of gold, and that he obtained the whole at a mere nominal price, we regard as pure fiction. That Heriot was amazingly fortunate in trade from the very outset is quite certain ; but this success was dly not gained by fortuitous oi' ftdveiltitiotUI THE SHREWD GOLDSMITH. 65 circumstances. It was, on the contrary, so far as is known, the result of persevering and honourable industry, under the guidance of sound principle. At the time we now speak of, Edinburgh was comprised within very narrow limits ; those large tracts of ground on which the gorgeous streets and squares of the New Town have since been erected, as well as those occupied by the humbler edifices of the great southern suburb, being then a silvan solitude of fields, orchards, and woods. The city, in fact, might be said to consist of one broad main street, nearly a mile in length, and still one of the most striking and picturesque in Europe, having the royal palace at its eastern and the castle at its western extremity. This great thoroughfare, com- prising the two divisions of the Canongate and High Street, runs along the summit of the ridge which ends with the precipice of the castle rock, and is lined on both sides with houses of extreme height, from which diverge to the right and left, down the steep declivities of the hill, a countless number of lanes and alleys. These comparatively narrow precincts contained nearly all the rank, wealth, and fashion of the Scottish capital ; and here also its chief trade and manufactures were carried on. In one of the alleys alluded to, called the Fishmarket Close, "Master Heriot" had his residence. His first shop was one of those small erections which, at that period, were attached to St I G6 GEOEGE HEEIOT Giles's cathedral. His shop or Jcraam* as it was commonly called, was at the north-east corner of the church. This was a central situation, and a much frequented spot. Upon the steps leading up to the krames, it was customary to implement the bargains made at the neighbouring cross, by going through certain formalities, and in presenting the hire-penny. In this humble erection, and after- wards in one at the west end of the cathedral, Heriot carried on an extensive trade as goldsmith and money-lender. He soon recommended himself to the notice of his Sovereign, by whom, on the 17th July, 1597, he was declared goldsmith to Anne of Denmark, the gay consort of James VI. Ten days afterwards, Heriot's appointment was proclaimed at the cross of Edinburgh, by sound of trumpet. During his whole life King James had a pro- pensity for making favourites, especially of persons in the humbler ranks ; and the Queen's goldsmith might now be regarded as having taken the first step to favour and fortune. This was a most for- tunate appointment, for never, truly, did trades- man get a better customer. There is no question that Heriot was principally indebted to Anne of Denmark for the acquisition of his large fortune. Few of our sovereigns have been more addicted * Kraam is a Dutch word, literally signifying a booth, or tem- porary shop at a market or fair. liiflff "mm-mm?. \ m >■•■■■> ■^ ' I mm ' P QUEEN ANNE OF DENMARK PLEDGING HER JEWELS TO GEORGE HERIOT. ■ Vt hen lier Majeit} m< iteilrous of procuring an lulvmiee of money, or some new trinkets, whether , |„ nonal um di ■•hi , it mil no unusual thing to pledge with Herlot tlie most preoloui of her leweh."— Pao» 67. THE SHREWD GOLDSMITH. 67 than Anne -was to the extravagant bestowal of diamond rings and other valuable ornaments on favourites. Her rage for finery -was perhaps car- ried to an unjustifiable length. The original docu- ments, preserved in the charter-room of the Hospital, strikingly exhibit the ruling passion of the Queen in this respect, and the no less proverbial caution of her worthy goldsmith. When her Majesty was desirous of procuring an advance of money, or some new trinkets, whether for personal use or for gifts, it was no unusual thing to pledge with him the most precious of her jewels. The worthy tradesman's next important step on the road to affluence was his appointment as jeweller to the King himself. The fees attached to the two offices thus flatteringly conferred were very con- siderable. So entirely, indeed, did the royal house- hold seem to require Heriot in his double capacity of goldsmith and cashier, that an apartment in the palace of Holyrood was actually prepared in which he might regularly transact business. It has been computed, that during the ten years which immedi- ately preceded the accession of King James to the throne of Great Britain, Heriot's bills for the queen's jewels alone could not amount to less than i?50,000 sterling. Imitating the extravagance of the court, the principal nobility and gentry of Scot- land also vied with one another in the frequency and costliness of their purchases. Like royalty, 68 GEORGE HERIOT too, they were often glad to avail themselves, in times of emergency, of pecuniary accommodation from Heriot. From this time he seems to have be- come the principal money-dealer in {Scotland, and frequently held in pledge the most valuable pro- perty of the crown. Dr Steven prints a curious letter, from which it appears that for some time he actually held in this way certain title-deeds be- longing to the Chapel Eoyal of Stirling, besides several legal instruments and papal bulls. In the beginning of 1603, King James was called to the throne of England, and, on the 5th of April, set out with no little pageantry for the southern capital. On this memorable occasion, of course, the services of the court-jeweller were in especial requisition. He furnished his majesty and the Scottish nobles who accompanied his progress southwards with money and an abundant supply of valuable trinkets ; and during the two months which intervened before Queen Anne followed her consort to London, Heriot's assistance was fre- quently required. He himself was now too im- portant a person, and in various respects too closely connected with his sovereign's arrangements, to be allowed a long absence from his wonted post. Ac- cordingly, we soon find our goldsmith in London, dwelling opposite the New Exchange. About this time Heriot became a widower, though it would seem that no particulars as to his wife's. THE SHREWD GOLDSMITH. 69 history, or the number of her children, have been ascertained. After a five years' residence in Lon- don he returned to Scotland, abounding in wealth, and high in reputation, for the purpose of forming a matrimonial alliance with Alison Primrose, eldest daughter of James Primrose, the grandfather of the first Earl of Rosebery. This marriage, advan- tageous to both parties, took place at Edinburgh in the autumn of 1608. The bridegroom had reached the grave age of forty-five — the lady was only sixteen. There is a portrait of Heriot in the council-room of the hospital, probably taken about this time, which represents him apparently in the vigour of life, habited in a court-dress of the period, with a richly embroidered mantle, and an ample lawn ruff or collar. Of this likeness it has been well said, that the fair hair overshadowing the thoughtful brow and calm calculating eye, with the cast of humour on the lower part of the counte- nance, are all indicative of the genuine Scottish character, and well distinguish a personage fitted to move steadily and wisely through the world, with a strength of resolution to ensure success, and a disposition to enjoy it. On returning to London the prosperous gold- smith experienced so large an increase in business that he was actually unable to procure in that city the necessary number of workmen. His royal patron extricated him from this dilemma in a 70 GEORGE HERIOT manner extremely characteristic. He issued a proclamation, addressed to all magistrates and jus- tices throughout the kingdom, commanding them to procure for the service of his crony as many journeymen as he should require, only stipulating that they were to receive the wages usually paid. Her Majesty, whose extravagance had increased with her elevation, now actually became bankrupt, Heriot being her principal creditor ; but .£20,000 sterling were immediately drawn from the public chest for payment of her debts. Heriot's second wife died without children in the year 1612, and he continued a widower during the remainder of his life. A number of his business letters, and petitions for payment to the King and Queen, who were almost constantly his debtors, have been preserved. The first notice of his in- tention to devote his fortune to charitable uses occurs in a disposition and assignation of his pro- perty, dated September 3, 1G23, in which the general plan of the hospital is very distinctly laid down. His last will and testament is dated on the 10th December of the same year. He died at London, on the 12th February, 1624, in the sixty- first year of his age, and was interred in his own parish church of St Martin's-in-the-Fields, on the 20th of the same month. The founders of chari- table institutions have often been unjust or unkind to their relatives. Not so George Heriot. That THE SHREWD GOLDSMITH. 71 Heriot, as Dr Steven truly remarks, had not for- gotten Lis relations and intimate friends, as well as his dependants, while he bequeathed a large sum for a truly benevolent object in Edinburgh, will best be shown by an analysis of his last will and testament. This important document, after pro- viding amply for all who had claims upon him, designs the residue of his fortune for the building of an hospital to board, clothe, and educate poor fatherless boys, sons of burgesses of Edinburgh ; appoints the Lord Provost, Magistrates, Town Councillors, and established ministers of that city perpetual governors of the institution, and nomi- nates his friend and fellow-townsman, Dr Walter Balcanquall, dean of Rochester, to draw up a body of statutes or laws for their guidance. From existing documents, it appears that the exact sum which the administrators eventually received for the erection and maintenance of the hospital was i?23,625, 10s. 3Jd., to which has since been added by bequests from various parties, some of whom had been educated within its walls, up- wards of £6000. For its present large revenue it is indebted to the prudence and care of its early governors, who from time to time purchased lands in the neighbourhood of the city, which have be- come exceedingly valuable in consequence of the feuing of the New Town. In 1636, the governors purchased the lands of Broughton, and thereby 72 GEORGE HERIOT became lords paramount of that barony ; and courts were regularly held under the auspices of the hos- pital for fully a century, for the investigation of cases of offence committed within the regality ; and sometimes even capital crimes were tried before the baron bailie appointed by the governors. This jurisdiction was purchased by Government in 1750 for ^486, 19s. 8d. The foundation-stone of the hospital was laid on the 1st of July, 1628, and the building went on with spirit till 1639, when it was stopped by the revolutionary troubles till 1642. In 1650, when the building was almost finished, Oliver Cromwell, after the battle of Dunbar, took possession of Edin- burgh, and quartered his sick and wounded soldiers in Heriot's Hospital. In 1659, it was appropriated to the original purpose of its foundation ; and thirty boys were elected on the 11th of April. From this time the affairs of the institution en- joyed a steady course of prosperity, and the number of its inmates was gradually increased. It is highly gratifying to know that many of the Herioters, in after-life, have not only justified the expense incurred in their education by their talents and respectability, but have gifted or bequeathed handsome sums to the institution, in grateful re- membrance of the benefits it conferred on them in their early years. The boys are comfortably lodged and fed within THE SHREWD GOLDSMITH. 73 the hospital, are dressed in a plain uniform, and receive instruction in English, writing, arithmetic, mathematics, Latin, Greek, French, music, drawing, and dancing. The estimated annual expense of each boy is .£29, 4s. 4d. On leaving the hospital at the age of fourteen, those who become appren- tices, besides an outfit of clothing, receive iPIO annually for five years, and £o at the close of then- apprenticeship, if they have conducted themselves properly. Those wishing to follow any of the learned professions, and who upon examination prove themselves hopeful scholars, are sent to the University of Edinburgh for four years after leaving the hospital, with an allowance of £30 per annum. The sum of - ings, or the more flashy qualities of a vulgar agita- tion. He sat down patiently to investigate the subject : traced the original intention of the donors, calculated the enhanced value which time and im- provement had added to the original sums, tracked the secret windings of the streams of corruption, and brought to light so many delinquencies, and such an extent of mal-appropriation, as completely to shame the parties concerned, and rouse the pub- lic to a thorough reform. In this struggle he was engaged for many years ; but he was in the end completely successful, and the funds have ever since been distributed according to the benevolent, in- tentions of the founders, and their appropriation made public to all concerned. 84 JOSEPH BROTHERTON This was the first employment of Mr Brotherfcon as a local reformer, and, as is usual in such cases, it led to further labours. Salford, which is now an important community, constituting to all practical purposes a part of Manchester, from which it is only separated by the insignificant stream of the Irwell, was then fast rising from its original posi- tion of a petty village to its present magnitude ; and, as a consequence, numerous Acts of Parliament were required for its government, lighting, police, &c, which were all unnecessary until the cotton- manufacture began to swell its bulk. In all these matters, so important to the social economy and comforts of the inhabitants, Mr Brotherton's advice was always sought by his fellow-townsmen ; and whenever acts of this nature were to be promoted, or any other public business transacted requiring safe counsel, his services were willingly rendered. It will surprise many who have heard of the large fortunes realised in the cotton manufacture to be told that Mr Brotherton retired from the firm with which he had been connected, and from busi- ness altogether, with a comparatively moderate for- tune, and before he had attained his fortieth year. The usual inducements to the accumulation of money were not wanting in his case ; for he had married and had a family to provide for ; but, with a rare spirit of moderation, he made way for younger men, contenting: himself with the realisa- THE FACTORY BOY. 85 tion of that position in which he had been placed, and with the enjoyment of those blessings with which Providence had surrounded him. That his retirement was not dictated by any feeling of selfish enjoyment or desire of slothful ease, is abundantly clear from the fact that his labours in the cause of the public were as unremitting as ever, while his services were more eagerly sought after than before, on the ground that he had now more leisure to bestow on them. So glided on the tranquil life of Mr Brotherton till the passing of the Eeform Bill in 1832, which conferred upon Salford the privilege of returning one Member to Parliament, its overgrown neigh- bour, Manchester, being at the same time favoured with two. The newly-constituted electors of the borough, anxious to exercise their franchise in a way that would show they were worthy of it, looked about for a fitting representative, and the great majority of them came to the conclusion that Mr Brotherton, who had so often done good service in an humbler sphere, was most worthy to be in- trusted with this, the most important charge they could confer on him. In coming to this conclusion there was nothing to bias their choice but their own knowledge of the moral and intellectual qualities of their townsman. The prestige of rank was out of the question, for his origin was known to them all. His fortune was moderate, and he could exercise 86 JOSEPH BROTHERTOK no undue influence, as he had ceased to occupy an interest in any of the factories of the town. He continued to represent Salford in Parliament till the period of his death in 1857. Mr Broth erton's services as a legislator were not very prominent. For some years he was amusingly recognised as invariably moving that the House of Commons should take up no new piece of business after midnight ; and it cannot be doubted that the comparatively better hours which the House now keeps are due to Mr Brotherton's zealous advocacy of his plan. It was an honourable feature in the character of Mr Brotherton that, risen as he had done from among the working classes, his heart never failed to beat in sympathy for the hardships endured by those from whom he sprung. This sometimes subjected him to the taunt of his bene- volence overpowering his judgment, but no one questioned the purity of the motives by which he was actuated. STEPHEN GIRARD THE CABIN BOY. Stephen Girard was born on the 24th of May, 1750, near Bordeaux, in France. His parents were in an humble sphere of life, and his education was confined to a limited knowledge of reading and writing. He left his native country, at the age of ten or twelve years, as a cabin-boy in a vessel bound for the West Indies. The loss of his eye at that time tended to increase the natural moroseuess of his temper, as he was sensitive to the ridicule of his associates. He remained but a short time in the West Indies, and again as cabin-boy sailed for New York. Having gained the confidence of his employer, he became first mate, then captain of a small vessel, and made several profitable voyages to New Orleans. Engaging' successfully in small adventures, he soon became part owner of the cargo and vessel which he commanded. It is not known what first induced him to go to Philadelphia, but he became, in 1769, an obscure trader in Water Street. About this time he was married, and his only child died in childhood. In partnership with Isaac Hazlehurst, Esq., of Philadelphia, he purchased two vessels to trade with St Domingo, but the vessels were captured, 88 STEPHEN GIRARD and taken to Jamaica, and the firm was dissolved. From 1772 to 1776 lie probably acted as shipmas- ter and merchant, despatching goods to New Orleans or St Domingo, remaining at home sometimes to settle accounts and adjust profits. The war which followed injured his commercial business, and he opened a small grocery shop in Water Street, con- nected with a bottling establishment for claret and cider. On the approach of the British, in 1777, he purchased a small tract of land called Mount Holly, on which was a house, where he sold his fluids to great advantage to the American soldiers, as the encampment was in the vicinity. Upon the evac- uation of Philadelphia, he returned to the city, and occupied a range of frame stores in Water Street, which were filled with pieces of cordage, sails, and old blocks, destined to fit out ships at some future time. In 1780, Girard again entered upon the New Orleans and St Domingo trade, and increased his gains so much as to enable him to extend his en- terprises to a larger scale. He leased for ten years a range of brick and frame stores, one of which he occupied, and rented the others to great advantage, and has been lieard to say he dated his subsequent good fortune to this foundation. His connection with his brother, Captain John Girard, terminated in consequence of misunderstanding, and the part- nership was dissolved ; his share of the business THE CABIN BOY. 89 amounting to about thirty thousand dollars. His wife died in 1815, having been twenty-five years a patient in the insane department of the Pennsyl- vania Hospital, on which occasion he presented to that institution the sum of three thousand dollars, besides liberally rewarding the attendants. His profits were greatly increased by the circumstance of two of his ships being at St Domingo at the time of the insurrection on that island. The planters in their alarm rushed to the docks to deposit their most valuable property in the ships lying there, and on returning to secure more, most of them were massacred, and but few claims were ever made on the property, which was found to be very great. This was sent to Philadelphia, and added greatly to his original fortune. In the year 1791, Mr Girard commenced build- ing ships — which have been a source of pride to Philadelphia — to engage in trade with Calcutta and China. He showed some national feeling in nam- ing his ships Montesquieu, Helvetius, Voltaire, and Eousseau. His conduct, during the dreadful pes- tilence which in 1793 visited the beautiful city of Philadelphia, is well known, and sufficient to re- deem his character from the selfishness and want of feeling generally attributed to it. He entered into the most loathsome abodes, and performed constantly at the hospital the most menial services. It is probable that his early residence in a tropical M 90 STEPHEN GIRARD climate made liim less liable to the disease, but this does not in any degree abate the credit he deserves for exposing his life for his fellow-beings. The establishment of his private bank, which was probably at first intended merely as a tempo- rary circumstance, finally conferred upon the com- munity great advantages, and rendered very im- portant service to the government. A circumstance which occurred in 1813 enabled him to add mate- rially to his own funds, besides the benefit to the national treasury from the duties due to the govern- ment. His ship, the Montesquieu, was captured in the Delaware by a British frigate, with an invoiced cargo of two hundred thousand dollars, consisting of teas, nankeen, and silks, from Canton ; but it was determined by the captors, to avoid the risk of a recapture in attempting to carry their prize to a British port, to send a flag of truce to Mr Girard with a proposal of ransom. He immediately sent to the British commander the sum of ninety-three thousand dollars in doubloons, and is supposed to have realised by the transaction half a million of dollars. His patriotism was shown in 1814 by his judicious and liberal aid to the country at a time when an invading army was marching over the land, and the national treasury exhausted. One of the distinguishing characteristics of Mr Girard was his public sjjirit. He subscribed one hundred and ten thousand dollars for the naviga- THE CABIN BOY. 91 tion of the Schuylkill, besides numerous loans at various times. At one time, when the county was believed to have been injured by an injudicious course of internal improvements, he made a volun- tary loan of one hundred thousand dollars. He erected in Philadelj)hia numerous blocks of build- ings, adding much to its beauty. Among other public-spirited acts he subscribed two hundred thousand dollars to the Danville and Pottsville Railroad, and ten thousand dollars towards the erection of a public Exchange. In person, Mr Girard was low and square, but muscular, and bearing the characteristic appearance of an old sailor. His skin was dark, and the loss of his eye added to the cold and hard expression of his face. His style of dress was peculiar, and generally very shabby. His equipage was always mean, and his personal habits penurious in the ex- treme. He was a total disbeliever in the Christian religion, and his sentiments were those of Rousseau and Voltaire, and yet he gave liberally to several Christian denominations. Mr Girard lived to the advanced age of eighty- four, and his death was hastened from his disregard of all assistance. Being partially blind, he was knocked down by a waggon when crossing the street, which nearly took off his ear, seriously bruised his head, and almost totally deprived him of sight. From this time his health declined, and, 92 STEPHEN GIRARD in December 1830, an attack of influenza ended his existence. He died on the 26th of that month, in a back-room at his house in Water Street. By his will he bequeathed to the Pennsylvania Hospi- tal, thirty thousand dollars ; to the Deaf and Dumb Institution, twenty thousand ; to the Public Schools of the city and county of Philadelphia, ten thousand ; to the Orphans' Asylum, ten thousand ; to the Re- lief of Distressed Masters of Ships, ten thousand ; to the Masonic Loan, twenty thousand ; for the erection of a public school, six thousand ; to all the captains in his employ, having performed a given service, fifteen hundred dollars each ; to his ap- prentices, each five hundred dollars ; to the city of New Orleans, two hundred and eight thousand acres of land, with thirty slaves ; and the remainder of his lands in Louisiana to the corporation of Philadelphia ; to the commonwealth of Pennsyl- vania he gave three hundred thousand dollars for internal improvement ; the sum of two millions was left for the purpose of the erection of a build- ing, and founding a college for orphan children. In addition to these, Mr Girard made considerable bequests to his relatives ; but the bulk of his im- mense fortune was left to the city of Philadelphia, where his fortune had been made. He gave in his will particular directions for expending portions of his wealth in certain public improvements ; among others, five hundred thousand dollars for the im- THE CABIN BOY. 03 provement of the Delaware front of the city, and the widening of Water Street ; and he desired that a square which he had long kept vacant should be intersected by a street, and covered with four blocks of buildings, erected on a uniform plan, which was done soon after his decease ; and the rents of these buildings now constitute an impor- tant part of the revenues of the city. The new street and the splendid row of buildings on Chest- nut are now respectively designated by the name of Girard. " In his will," says his biographer, " he clearly showed what had been the object of his long and fixed labour in acquisition. While he was forward — with an apparent disregard of self — to expose his life on behalf of others in the midst of pestilence, to aid the internal improvements of the country, and to promote its commercial prosperity by all the means within his power, he yet had more am- bitious designs. He wished to hand himself down to immortality by the only mode that was practi- cable for a man in his position, and he accomplished precisely that which was the grand aim of his life. He wrote his epitaph in those extensive and mag- nificent blocks and squares which adorn the streets «f his adopted city, in the public works and elee- mosynary establishments of his adopted state, and erected his own monument and embodied his own principles in a marble-roofed palace for the educa- 91 STEPHEN GIRARD tion of the orphan poor. "We who shall hereafter gaze upon that splendid edifice, the most perfect model of architecture in the New World, will per- ceive the result of the singular character of its founder, and shall be left in doubt whether, after all, his faults were not overbalanced by his ultimate munificence." A VISIT TO GIRARD COLLEGE. This noble charity is perhaps, both internally and externally, the most gorgeous edifice of which America can boast ; and all the gift of a shrewd, enterprising, persevering, albeit miserly, unbeliev- ing old sailor. The main edifice is modelled after the Parthenon at Athens. Its colonnade is Corin- thian, and single ; that of the Parthenon was double, and Doric. But here comparison is at an end. The friezes of the Parthenon were the work of Phidias, and the pride not only of Grecian sculp- ture, but the architectural glory of the world. The Parthenon cost six millions ; Girard College two. Each of these magnificent columns cost fourteen thousand dollars — sufficient, column by column, to erect a substantial college edifice. On entering the lofty doorway, thirty-six feet in height, pay your respects to Stephen Girard. There he stands, right before you, in marble, with his hands crossed before him, in plain citizen's dress, just as he walked the streets of Philadelphia. A THE CABIN BOY. 95 plain iron railing surrounds the statue, and keeps all comers at a respectable distance. At the right, is the spacious council-room of the board of direc- tors ; at the left, the doorway of the great chapel. Beyond are recitation rooms. In one, a professor was lecturing to the larger boys on anatomy. When he proposed a question, dozens rose from their seats, and waved their hands in token of being able to answer. The fortunate fellow to whom he nodded, shouted the reply. In the rooms above were large classes under the care of female teachers. The tender age of the orphans requires, at present, ma- ternal influence ; and this they receive, both at the hands of their instructors, and from the matrons of the boarding establishments. The rooms upon the third floor of the college are lighted from the roof. Here is the library; here is the wardrobe of Girard — the old pantaloons, patched upon the knee with pieces of different colours, worn by the millionaire a short time before his death. Here are boxes of shipping papers, his secretoire, and iron safe. From thence, clamber to the top of the immense struc- ture. A roof of marble ! Six thousand tons of marble in the roof alone will give the imagination or calculation of the reader some data for the esti- mation of the enormous weight of other parts of the structure, or of the building as a whole. The building is all marble ! Only one little staircase leading to the roof is of wood ; the rest is all solid 96 STEPHEK GIRAFvD masonry. The reverberations of the lofty ceilings totally unfitted the rooms for school purposes. This had to be remedied by interposing an artificial ceil- ing of canvass or cotton cloth, to muffle the sound, or stifle the echoes which the slightest word or foot- fall generated by the million in the vaulted cham- bers. In the school-rooms the desks and seats are ele- vated by the thickness of a single plank, lest the coldness or dampness of the stone-flagged floor should induce cold feet, and thus injure the health of the pupils. At five o'clock we went to the chapel for prayers. Across the entire west end of the chapel is an ele- vated platform. In its centre is a regular pulpit or reading-desk, occupied by the president in iso- lated dignity. At his left was a splendid piano ; on either hand, on settees and chairs, the faculty of the institution, and visitors, of whom they have from one hundred and fifty to two hundred a-day. Here collected, in quiet and order, three hundred orphan boys, each section under the care of its own director. Each had his hymn-book and Bible. Here three hundred voices joined to sing in moving melody, " Come, lot us join our cheerful songs With angels round the throne." No chance for infidelity or heterodoxy here, thought wo, as the charming volume of infant THE OABIN BOY. 97 voices rolled forth the sentiments, impressing them- selves, doubtless, by the power of the ever-present Spirit, signally upon the infant heart : — " "Worthy the Lamb that died, they cry, To be exalted thus ; "Worthy the Lamb, our hearts reply, For he was slain for us." When the president took up the Bible, after the singing, every pupil opened to the chapter named, and followed the reading with attention ; and when he said, " Let us pray," every one kneeled reve- rently in his place, before that God who has pro- mised to be a father to the fatherless, and the widow's God. The sight was beyond measure af- fecting. Under the efficient management of the president and the able board of directors, everything has been reduced to the most perfect system. The lads re- tired from the chapel as quietly as they had entered it. Merry was the shout that arose from the lawn appropriated for the playground, when, the re- straints of the day over, they were permitted to exercise themselves before tea, in the open air. "We saw them at supper. They repair to the dining-hall in the same admirable order, section by section. As the procession, two and two, enter the door, they divide at the head of the table, and one line goes down one side, and the other the other sach to his appropriated seat. The fare is simple ; N 98 STEPHEN GIRARD. weak tea or water, bread and butter, or bread and molasses, constitute the healthful regimen. The washing-room was a curiosity. Every boy had a tin basin, towel, hair-brush, clothes-brush, tooth-brush, and looking-glass, to himself. The supply of water from hydrants was plentiful, and once a-week, or oftener, they were required to bathe in rooms or tubs prepared for the purpose. Every boy had drawers for his clothing, labelled with his name, and in the dormitories, every one was pro- vided with an iron bedstead, with plenty of bed- ding, covered with a counterpane of spotless white- ness. Nearly all the orphans are from the city and county of Philadelphia. To prevent the interfer- ence of friends, they are all indentured apprentices, according to the laws of Pennsylvania. JOHN LEYDEN THE SHEPHERD BOY. If ever man was born in circumstances which might seem adverse to the development of great literary ability, that man was John Leyden, and if ever the abilities of any human being rose superior to the adversity of circumstances, those capacities and powers belonged to the same individual. The brief and instructive biography of this most re- markable man is calculated to inspire us with a belief that circumstances, so called, can only be esteemed in proportion and relation to particular minds. The insuperable obstacles in the path of one individual are mere excitatives to exertion in the vi^w of another. An easily satisfied or timid mind, when it approaches some rugged steep, lead- ing to the temple of knowledge and fame, shrinks back, and, without an effort, gives up the attempt to climb. The indomitable and aspiring youth, who fixes his eye untiringly upon the one grand object of his travail, sees not the impediments that roughen his onward way. He will work out his aim, in spite of toil, opposition, midnight vigils, and cold neglect. The strength of his unseen spirit supports him; the voice of visioned, white- winged, sunny-eyed hope, is ever whispering to ] 00 JOHN LEYDEN him, although men may shake their heads and shrug their shoulders. The light that irradiates his eye and illuminates his inward life, throws its beams upon the object of his ambition, and on- ward he moves, and upward he climbs, without an idea of defeat, pitied or neglected by the crowd while he lives and struggles, and honoured with the epitaph of genius when he has fallen down in his proud career into a premature grave. John Leyden, who preserved the rusticity of his original manners, and the enthusiasm of his wild poetic nature, while he excelled all his contempo- raries in the acquisition of scholastic attainments and antiquarian lore, was the son of a poor moor- land shepherd. He was born at Denholm, upon the estate of Cavers, in the vale of Teviot, a few miles from Hawick, on the 8th of September 1775, and he was sent at a very early age to herd cattle and tend sheep upon his native braes. About a year after his birth, his parents removed to Hen- lawshiel, about three miles distant from the cottage where he was born, and here his father sojourned for sixteen years, tending the sheep of his kinsman, the goodman of Nether Tofts, and latterly manag- ing the affairs of the farm, when his relative unfor- tunately lost his sight. Leyden's dwelling-place was in the vicinity of the majestic mountain of Buberslaw, and the hut and its appurtenances were as humble and simple as the scenery in which it THE SHEPHERD BOY. ] 01 was located was grand and lovely. Leyden was ten years of age "before he went to school, but the future linguist had been taught his letters by his grandmother before he was sent to a regular semi- nary, and the thirst for knowledge was awakened in him. The splendid and inspiring passages of the Old Testament were eagerly devoured by the enraptured boy. He wept for Joseph, torn from his loved and loving father, and sold by his breth- ren into a far country; he rejoiced.in his glory and triumph, when the poor Hebrew slave rode forth in the chariot of Pharaoh, and all the people bowed down to him ; and he loved to recal him, as he stood before his brethren, in regal splendour, and cried, " I am Joseph. " He gleaned with Kuth in the field of her kinsman, and loved the queenly Esther who so strongly loved her people. He saw the good old Noah building his ark of gopher wood, and he beheld it floating above the watery shroud of an immersed world. It was the Bible that first touched the poetic heart of Leyden, and filled his soul with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Leyden, like almost every Scottish peasant, had his ancestral associations and traditions. One of his progenitors had drawn his claymore for the Co- venant, and had distinguished himself as a warrior under the flag which was inscribed with the names of "Gideon and- the Lord;" and personal as well as natural motives induced the boy to learn with avi- 102 JOHN LEYDEN dity the wild tales of Scotland's most woful times. His mother, too, was Isabella Scott, of one of the most famous border clans ; and thus to the enthusi- astic, fair-haired, rustic, wondering boy, the ballads and traditions of Teviotdale were procreant with familiar and personal illusions. He was a Borderer by birth and in heart, and a poet and an antiquary from his earliest years. His mind carried him back from the simple, and honourable, and most noble pastoral occupation in which his father and himself were engaged, to the times of midnight foray, and chase, and battle, until he completely identified himself with the Borderers of old, and really assi- milated his mind so much with theirs, that the eccentric romantic habits, acquired in his unregu- lated youth, characterised him to the end of his short and eventful life. All the fervid, fierce nation- ality of one who had often followed Wallace and bled with Bruce, inspired the breast of Leyden, and all the wild superstitions and majestic idealities of a mountain minstrel assumed vital and real aspects in his poetic imagination. The books which this remarkable youth disentombed from the ancestral cobwebs and dust of the neighbouring peasantry's shelves were few, but they were such as would minister to his patriotism and wonder. Selection was out of the question. Leyden read whatever he could lay his hands on, and glad was he if he could catch anything novel in the shape of print; but, by LEYDEN IN SEARCH OF THE Karl J in ""■• ruing the peasanl boj sol off through Hiesnoi ri nding of the Ijook, and ivus refused. Little, however, .lid tli '< side liim was superior to his power of refm ith, fiiii-ly conquered by Ids pertinacity, gavehii mi i, lie returned home triumphantly — Pagk ARABIAN NIGHTS." ' to present himself nt the smithy. d id the il. During tin il heg v Unit the unseen will of the diole duy Leyiiall stood beside ill, famished i prt THE SHEPHERD BOY. 103 one of those fortuitous coincidences which serve to illustrate the law of affinity, he caught some stray volumes of the "History of Scotland," the "Ara- bian Nights," "Sir David Lyndsay's Poetical Works," Milton and Chapman's "Homer." His manner of obtaining the "Arabian Nights" was characteristic of the man. A companion had in- formed him that a blacksmith's apprentice, who re- sided several miles distant, had in his possession this Oriental treasure, and, his friend having pe- rused it and described its contents to Leyden, the latter determined to proceed to the young votary of Tubal-Cain, and solicit a perusal of the volume in his presence. Early in the morning the peasant boy set off through the snow to present himself at the smithy-door and beg a reading of the book. At daybreak he was at the smithy, but the young smith had removed to some distance to a temporary job. Onward followed Leyden, found the object of his pursuit, humbly explained his mission, and was refused. Little, however, did the blacksmith know that the unseen will of the determined boy beside him was superior to his power of refusal. During the whole day Leyden stood beside him, and the smith, fairly conquered by his pertinacity, gave him the volume in a present, with which, famished and frozen as he was, he returned home triumphantly. At eleven years of age, Leyden went to the school of Kirktown, where he acquired a smattering of 104 JOHN LEYDEN Latin, and a faint knowledge of arithmetic. He received little help from teachers, and was subject- ed to scarcely anything like systematic training. Yet he went vigorously on, storing and educating his powerful mind. His parents, observant of his rare talents, at last determined to devote them to the great end of a Scottish peasant's veneration and ambition, the church. The Cameronian minister of Denholm taught him Latin, and he privately acquired the rudiments of Greek, and in 1790 com- menced his professional studies in the University of Edinburgh. When Leyden appeared in the class-room of Professor Dalzell, he was dressed in humble, homespun habiliments, and looked and spoke the rustic. When he first rose to recite his Greek exercises, even the worthy Professor's gravity was disturbed by the high, harsh tones of his voice, the broadness of his Teviotdale dialect, and the uncouth appearance presented by his unrestrained fair hair, his ruddy face, and humble garb. The Professor soon perceived, however, that the intel- lectual qualities of the youth were sujDerior to those of his raiment, and his fellow-students also dis- covered that, if they dared to play with him, he, too, dared to match his homespun-covered arm with the best of theirs in England's best broad cloth. Now at the fountain-head of learning, the peasant Leyden was not long before he proved that he could labour as diligently with the mind as his THE SHEPHERD BOY. 105 ancestors had done with ploughshare and shepherd's crook. He attended all the lectures which it was possible for him to attend, and, in addition to per- fecting himself in his classical studies, he acquired French, Spanish, Italian, and German, and was familiar with the ancient Icelandic, as well as Hebrew, Arabic, and Persian. He soon became particularly distinguished as a linguist ; neverthe- less he maintained a respectable reputation in every department of science. Ethics, mathematics, natu- ral philosophy, natural history, botany, chemistry, and mineralogy, were not unknown to him ; and in astrology, demonology, and antiquities, he was peculiarly excellent. During the college vacations Leyden studied and experimented in the little church of Cavers ; and as he became known to the lord of the manor as a student, he was admitted sometimes to the privi- lege of his library. In the country, the peasant- student might be said to live in himself. There were many with kindred sympathies, but none of his class with anything like kindred capacities of expression. They felt, but they had not developed nor nursed their feelings to the same extent as Leyden ; and so he lived in a silent dreamland. In Edinburgh, however, he had Thomas Campbell with whom to poetise ; Alexander Murray, his companion in the pursuit of Oriental literature ; Dr Thomas Brown, the precocious philosopher, and o 10G JOHN LEYDEN many other young men of distinguished ability, were his associates. In 1796, John Leyden obtained the situation of private tutor to the sons of Mr Campbell of Fair- field, with whom he remained two or three years. During the winter of 1798 he attended to the studies of his scholars while they pursued their educational course at the University of St Andrews, where the friendship of Professor Hunter, and the monastic life imposed upon him in this ancient city, enabled him to prosecute with advantage his favourite subjects. While in St Andrews, the re- nown of Mungo Park reached the humble but sympathetic and enthusiastic student, and his whole mind immediately became concentrated upon the customs and manners of Africa. Full of the romance of discovery, he investigated everything that had been written about African exploration, and presented the fruits of his researches to the public in 1799. His "Historical and Philosophi- cal Sketch of the Discoveries and Settlements of the Europeans in Northern and Western Africa," at the close of the eighteenth century, produced, through some mistake, an impression on the minds of Mungo Park's friends that Leyden wished to ridicule the great traveller ; and when the bard appeared in Hawick, at a time when the Roxburgh- shire Yeomanry, many of whom were Mungo Park's personal friends, happened to be in town, he was THE SHEPHERD BOY. 107 advised to go away clandestinely, if he wished to escape condign punishment. The very reverse of this advice suited the temper of Leyden, however. He walked directly to the market-place, when the troop was there reviewing, and, humming " IVe done nae ill, I'll brook nae wrang, But back to Wamphray I tcill gang," seemed to invite and defy his foemen to come on. They were no way loth to accept the quarrel, and there would have been a fray but for the timely interposition of some peacemakers. Introduced to Dr Robert Anderson, Leyden had opened to him the pages of the " Edinburgh Maga- zine," and to this periodical he sent translations from the Greek Anthology, from the Norse, He- brew, Syriac, and Persian, together with original pieces, signed J. L., which attracted the attention of Sir Walter Scott. In the winter of 1799-1800, Mr Richard Heber was in Edinburgh, collecting the materials of his valuable library. At this time Archibald Constable was a retailer of old and curi- ous works, and to his shop the future bishop made many visits. Here he frequently found, mounted on a ladder, and examining old tomes with the greatest ardour, a person whose appearance was more rustic than scholastic. It was Leyden, who, at- tracted to Constable's shelves by love, was glad to be privileged to read while Heber purchased. The poor student was the very man necessary at this 108 JOHN LEYDEN time to the rich and learned collector. They were of kindred rninds — both devoted to learning and the Muses, and they immediately became friends. Through Heber's means Leyden was introduced to all the literati of Edinburgh, and in the house of Sir Walter Scott he was especially welcome — their congenial tastes for ballad literature, antiquities, demonology, and everything pertaining to the world of chivalry and romance, rendering them most suitable companions, and their mutual good- ness and warmth of heart constituting them cordial friends. The manners of Leyden were never modified by his communion with the most conventional society. He was still the rustic, open, bold, uncouth, free, but simple John Leyden, even when he walked the drawing-rooms of the wealthy, receiving the ho- mage due to his genius and acquirements. The personal appearance of Leyden — that is, not the raiment but the man — was rather interesting. His cheeks were clear and ruddy, his hair brown, and his eyes dark and lively. His temperament was one of the most sanguine ; at the same time his features were handsome, and full of life and intel- ligence. His person was of common stature, rather sparingly than athletically formed ; but his wiry muscles and agile limbs were well adapted to those athletic exercises in which he loved to excel, even more than in the arena of scholastic competition. THE SHEPHERD BOY. 109 It is a curious reflection in the biography of one so gifted, that he was as emulous of being considered an excellent boxer, leaper, wrestler, and runner, as a scholar, and that he risked his life on more than one occasion in order to demonstrate his agility. The ideal of bold and manly independence which Leyden had formed in his youth, he maintained in all circumstances. He was proud of his humble origin rather than ashamed of it ; he knew that his own intrinsic merits alone had brought him into communion with richer and better-bred people than himself, and he could not fail to discover that he met none his superior in attainments and talents, and from this sense may have sprung his careless- ness in conventional forms. He never took offence, however, at decent criticisms upon his manners, and rather encouraged by his jocularity than sup- pressed the raillery directed against his roughness. To the glory and honour of the humble but gifted student be it recorded, that his moral character was above the breath of suspicion. He was deej)ly im- pressed with the principles of morality inculcated in the sacred oracles of God, and he maintained them untainted through life. In 1800, John Leyden became a licentiate of the Church of Scotland, and preached in several of the city churches. In the autumn of the same year he accompanied two yoimg foreigners on the tour of the Hebrides and Highlands, and made many ]10 JOHN LEYDEN investigations into Highland traditions and man- ners ; the only record of this tour extant, however, is his beautiful poem of the " Mermaid," published in the "Border Minstrelsy." In 1801, Leyden furnished the ballad called the "Elf-King" to Lewis's " Tales of Wonder ;" and in the following year he devoted himself with uncommon enthu- siasm to the procuring of materials for the " Min- strelsy of the Scottish Border ;" relative to which pursuit Sir Walter Scott records the following anecdote as an instance of his zeal : " An interest- ing fragment had been obtained of an ancient historical ballad, but the remainder, to the great disturbance of the editor and his coadjutor, could not be recovered. Two days afterwards, while Scott was sitting with some company after dinner, a sound was heard at a distance, like that of the whistling of a tempest through the torn rigging of a vessel that scuds before it. The sounds increased as they approached more near ; and Leyden (to the great astonishment of such of the guests as did not know him) burst into the room, chanting the desiderated ballad with the most enthusiastic ges- tures and all the energy of the sawtones of his voice. It turned out that he had walked between forty and fifty miles and back again, for the sole purpose of visiting an old person who possessed this precious remnant of antiquity." It was Leyden who sup- plied the essentials for the " Dissertation on Fairy THE SHEPHERD BOY. Ill Superstition," in the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border ;" and he is also author of the ballads, " Lord Soulis" and the "Cout of Keildar." In 1801, he edited a curious old work of uncertain origin, and date ] 548, called the " Complaynt of Scotland," the preliminary remarks on which are full of the most curious information. In 1802, Ley den be- came editor of the "Scots Magazine," of which Constable was publisher, and continued in this situ- ation five or six months, contributing several pieces of poetry and prose ; and in this year he wrote his " Scenes of Infancy." The restless, imaginative mind of Leyden, ever living in a region of wonders, and laughing at the obstacles and dangers of the most desperate enter- prises, could find no rest for itself in the quiet, passive tenor of Scottish clerical life ; and in 1802 he had made overtures to the African Society to pursue those African researches so hopefully begun and so fatally terminated by Mungo Park. His friends, in order to divert him from this suicidal project, applied to Government for some situation that would enable him to gratify his longing for the means of making researches into Oriental lite- rature. There was no situation open in the Indian department but that of surgeon's assistant, which could only be held by a person who had a surgical degree, and who could sustain an examination be- fore the Medical Board. In the incredibly short 112 JOHN LEYDEN space of six months, John Leyden had added to his clerical license the diploma of surgeon, and was summoned to join the Christmas fleet of Indiamen, having been appointed assistant-surgeon on the Madras establishment. Of course it "was under- stood that his rare talents were to be devoted to pursuits similar to those of Sir William Jones, whom he soon hoped to surpass in Oriental eru- dition. In 1803 he arrived at Madras, and was imme- diately transferred to a situation promising every opportunity of gratifying the main object of his expatriation ; but, alas ! the climate of India was uncongenial to the health of the Scottish Borderer, and the sturdy and hardy descendant of midnight rievers, who would have scorned to yield to moun- tain's mist or snow, succumbed to the fever-breed- ing malaria of Madras. He was constrained to leave this station for Prince of Wales' Island, in order to restore his wasted strength. While at Puloo Penang, where he partially re- covered, he made some curious and valuable re- searches concerning the language, literature, and descent of the Indo-Chinese tribes, which he laid before the Asiatic Society at Calcutta, whither he repaired in 1806. The health of Dr Leyden did not succumb so much to climate, perhaps, as to his own irrepressible and inordinate activity. " I cannot be idle !" he exclaimed, when told by hia THE SHEPHERD BOY. 113 physician that lie must rest or die ; " whether I die or live, the wheel must go round till the last ;" and so, under the depression of fever and liver com- plaint, he studied ten hours a-day. Sir John Malcolm, governor of Calcutta, a coun- tryman of his own, relates the following anecdote of him on his landing in the chief city of Bengal. "When he arrived at Calcutta in 1805," says Sir John, " I was most solicitous regarding his recep- tion in the society of the Indian capital. ' I entreat you, my dear friend,' I said to him, on the day he landed, ' to be careful of the impression you make on entering this community ; try to learn a little English, and do be silent on literary subjects except among literary men.' 'Learn English!' he ex- claimed, ' no, never ; it was trying to learn that language that spoilt my Scotch ; and as to being silent, I will promise to hold my tongue if you will make fools hold theirs.' " Leyden was appointed a Professor of the College of Bengal ; and shortly after he exchanged this situation for the judgeship of the twenty-four pur- gunnahs of Calcutta. His duties in this capacity were partly military and partly judicial, and brought him in contact very much with the natives, whose language and habits he well understood. His whole emoluments were expended upon the pur- chase of Oriental manuscripts and the employment of native teachers, under whom he studied night P 114 JOHN LEYDEN. and day, to the total engrossment of all his spare time and the detriment of his health. Dr Leyden accompanied the British expedition to Java in 1811, high in the hope of adding to his literary stores, but death swept him away three days before the reduction of the island. He died on the 28th of August, 1811, not thirty-six years of age. His death was an irreparable loss to litera- ture and to his friends, and a sad visitation to his parents and his country. Consumed by the ardour of Iris genius and of his devotion to the pursuit of knowledge, he laid down his life before he had seen the meridian of manhood, and " A distant and a deadly shore Has Leyden's cold remains." DRAKE THE SEA-KING ; OR, TI1E BUILDING OF " OLD ENGLAND'S WOODEN WALLS." Francis Drake was born in the year 1544, in a cottage about a mile from Tavistock, on the banks of the Tavy, in Devonshire. His father, an intelli- gent but obscure yeoman, had twelve sons, of whom Frapcis was the eldest. In the days of persecution under Queen Mary, having attracted attention as a zealous Protestant and a man of some acquirements, this worthy person removed from Devonshire into Kent, where young Drake was brought up — " God dividing the honour," sa} 7 s Fuller, " between two counties, that the one might have his birth, and the other his education/' Under Elizabeth, the father, having taken orders, obtained the appoint- ment of chaplain to the fleet stationed in the Med- way, and was some time after ordained vicar of TJpnor church, situated a little below Chatham. The youth, thus reared from infancy in the vicinity of the royal fleet, seems to have early imbibed a passion for a sailor's life ; and his father, poor and encumbered with a numerous family, was not dis- posed to thwart his inclination. " He put him," says Camden, " to the master of a bark, his neigh- bour, who carried on a coasting trade, and some- times made voyages to Zealand and France." In the service of this master, who " kept him 116 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF hard to his business in the vessel," the young sailor rapidly acquired a thorough knowledge of his pro- fession ; and the old seaman became so fond of him that on his death he bequeathed to him the bark and all its equipments. At the early age of eight- een we find him employed as purser of a ship which traded with the ports of Biscay. About this time the slave trade, the subsequent source of so many crimes and horrors, was commenced by some London adventurers, with the view of supplying the Spanish colonies in the West Indies and America. This odious but lucrative traffic, the inhumanity of which was not denounced till a much later date, was of a nature too well calculated to allure the adventurous spirits of the period ; and Drake, at the age of twenty-two, desirous of ex- tending his professional knowledge, and partici- pating in its gains, embarked for Guinea, in a squadron commanded by his reputed relative, Cap- tain John Hawkins, in which he had command of the Judith, a vessel of only fifty tons. The history of this unfortunate voyage, the last of the kind which Hawkins ever made, offers a curious picture of the nautical morality of the age. Having com- pleted his human cargo, that navigator took the usual course to the Canaries and Spanish America, apparently quite indifferent whether the profits of his expedition should be the result of his ostensible traffic or of open piracy. In passing, he stormed " old England's wooden walls.*' 117 the town of Rio de la Hacha, because the Spanish governor refused to trade with him ; and soon after, when off the coast of Florida, being driven by severe gales to seek shelter in the port of San Juan de Ulloa, he made two of the principal inhabitants hostages to secure himself from retali- ation. Here, while debating whether he should not at once seize upon twelve merchant ships lying in the port, and laden with cargoes worth ^200,000, his position was rendered extremely critical by the arrival of a powerful Spanish fleet, having on board goods to the value of nearly two millions sterling. In the prospect of so tempting a prize, the English commander would willingly have hazarded an action, notwithstanding the great disparity of force ; but, dreading the anger of Queen Elizabeth, he made a truce with the Spaniards, and suffered himself to be lulled into security. The Dons, however, were even more than a match for their unwelcome guests in duplicity and cruelty, and only adhered to the truce till they could break it with impunity. Ac- cordingly, while the people of Hawkins were quietly repairing and revictualling their ships, they were treacherously attacked by a powerful force from land and sea; numbers were massacred in cold blood ; and the only vessels that escaped were Hawkins' own bark the Minion, and the Judith, commanded by Drake. After incredible hardships these two vessels succeeded in reaching England, 1 1 8 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF where the relation of their sufferings produced an indelible impression on the popular mind. Drake had embarked his whole fortune in this disastrous expedition, and he had lost all. Hence was laid the foundation of that deep-rooted hos- tility to the Spaniards which he ever afterwards evinced — a feeling not a little confirmed by the exhortations of a chaplain to the fleet, who assured him that, as he had suffered from the treachery of the King of Spain's subjects, he might lawfully make reprisals from that monarch whenever and wherever he could. Fuller says — "The case was clear in sea divinity, and few are such infidels as not to believe doctrines which make for their profit." Be this as it may, Drake no sooner developed plans for attacking the Spanish American colonies, than he found numerous other adventurers ready to aid him with money and personal assistance. He made two preparatory voyages, first with two ships and then only with one, in which he carefully recon- noitred the scene of his future exploits, improved his acquaintance with the coasts and islands of South America, and, it is coolly added, amassed some store of money " by playing the seaman and the pirate." Thus experienced and reinforced, and having obtained a regular though secret commission from the Queen, he made his first bold and daring attempt at reprisal. In May 1572, with two small vessels " OLD ENGLAND'S WOODEN WALLS." 119 —the Pacha, of seventy tons, and the Swan, of twenty-five tons — the united crews of which amounted to seventy-three men and boys, he sailed for the Spanish Main, where he was joined by a vessel from the Isle of Wight, having on board thirty-eight men. With this insignificant force, he surprised the town of Nombre de Dios, then the entrepot between Old Spain and the wealth of Mexico and Peru. The place was captured almost without resistance ; and though the adventurers were somewhat disappointed of their expected booty, this was amply made up to them by the capture, soon after, of a string of fifty mules laden with gold and silver. Having gained the friendship and exchanged presents with an Indian chief, the navigator now partially crossed the Isthmus of Darien, and for the first time obtained a view of the great Pacific, an ocean hitherto closed to Eng- lish enterprise. With a kind of piety then per- fectly intelligible, he gazed for a while intently on its boundless waters, and then prayed God to " grant him life and leave to sail once an English ship upon its bosom." Such was the earliest aspiration breathed after those noble discoveries which have since shed lustre on the maritime fame of England. While indulging these emotions, however, the ad- venturer never lost sight of the more obvious pur- pose of his expedition — namely, plunder. After several other extraordinary adventures and some 1 20 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF hairbreadth escapes, he set sail for England, with his fragile barks absolutely loaded and crammed with treasure and plundered merchandise, and reached Plymouth on the 9th August, 1573. It was the Sabbath-day, and the townspeople were at church, but the news of Drake's return no sooner reached them than "there remained few or no people with the preacher," all rushing eagerly out to welcome the Devonshire hero. The successful issue of these adventures obtained for Drake at once fortune, fame, and noble patron- age. The wealth he had acquired enabled him to fit out three stout frigates, which, with himself as a volunteer, he placed at the disposal of Walter, Earl of Essex, the father of Elizabeth's celebrated favourite. Of these he was of course appointed commander, and performed good service in sub- duing the rebellion then raging in Ireland. These exploits, and his former reputation, procured him an introduction to her Majesty — a distinction which he prized the more as it promised to further what was now the great object of his thoughts, a voyage to the Pacific. In the year 1577, the monarchies of Spain and England were still nominally at peace, though the subjects of both crowns were engaged in constant acts of aggression and violence against each other, which, though not openly countenanced by the sovereigns, were at least tacitly connived at. Ac- " old England's wooden walls." 121 cordingly, Drake found little difficulty in obtaining the decided though, secret sanction of Elizabeth for another marauding expedition, in which he con- templated the realisation of his long-cherished pur- pose. The miniature fleet, with which he proposed to make war on the possessions of the most powerful monarch in Europe, consisted only of five vessels, the largest one hundred, and the smallest fifteen tons, and containing a crew of 164 men, "gentle- men " and sailors. Among the gentlemen were some youths of noble families, who, not to mention the plunder anticipated, went out "to learn the art of navigation." The adventurers set sail on the 13th December, and first touched at Moofadore, on the coast of Barbary, where one of the sailors was captured by the Moors. Sailing thence, they reached the Portuguese island of San Jago, having taken and plundered several vessels which fell in their way. Here they seized upon a ship belong- ing to that nation, laden with wine, cloth, and general merchandise, and having numerous passen- gers on board. These captives Drake dismissed at the first convenient place, giving to each his. wear- ing apparel, and presenting them with a butt of wine and some provisions, and with, a pinnace he had set up at Mogadore. He, however, detained the pilot, Nuno da Silva, an expert mariner, who was well acquainted with the coast of Brazil, and afterwards published a minute account of the voy= Q 122 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF age ; while the captured vessel itself was manned and placed under the command of Thomas Drake, a brother of the commodore. Having crossed the line without meeting any- thing more remarkable than the tropical phenomena of the air and waters, the adventurers cast anchor within the entrance of the Rio de la Plata, on the 14th of April, whence they soon after steered to the southward, along that wild coast since known as Patagonia. Though the avowed objects of Drake were little better than open robbery, he seems at no time to have indulged in that treachery and gratuitous cruelty which have so often disgraced European voyagers in barbarous lands. On the contrary, he endeavoured to cultivate a friendly correspondence with the rude natives, and in his progress opened at various places an agreeable, if not very profitable traffic. The narrative gives little sanction to reports about the gigantic stature of these people ; but they are described as strong made, middle-sized, and extremely active, with a gay and cheerful disposition. For such trifles as the English bestowed, they gave in return bows and arrows, and other rude implements, and soon became familiar. This good understanding was not, however, invariably preserved ; for on another part of the coast a misunderstanding led to an en- counter with the natives, in which several indivi- duals on both sides lost their lives, " OLD ENGLAND'S WOODEN WALLS." 123 On the 19th of June the voyagers cast anchor in Port Julian, near the Straits of Magellan, where they were much comforted by finding a gibbet standing — " a proof that Christian people had been there before them." Here an event occurred which has been considered the most questionable act of this distinguished navigator. This was the trial and execution of Mr Thomas Doughty, an officer of the squadron, on a charge of conspiracy and mutiny. Though, properly speaking, no stretch of authority on the part of the commander, supposing the charge to be well founded, great obscurity has always in- volved this transaction ; but the high character of Drake for humanity and fair-dealing among his associates seems to make it probable that the pun- ishment was deserved. After the execution, Drake, who possessed a bold natural eloquence, addressed his whole company, exhorting them to " unity, obedience, and regard to our voyage ; and for the better confirmation thereof, willed every man the next Sunday following to prepare himself to receive the communion," of which accordingly all very devoutly partook. On the 20th of August, Drake reached Cape Virgenes, and sailed through the dreaded Strait of Magellan, being the fourth navigator who had per- formed that passage. By this time his fleet had been reduced to only three vessels, those considered unserviceable having been broken up. The charac- 124 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF ter of this difficult navigation is now so well known that it may suffice to say that he cleared the western entrance on the 6th of September, without accident, and at length attained the long-desired happiness of sailing an English ship on the South Sea. Here his comrades expected to begin the main business of their enterprise, and here also commenced their chief difficulties. The ship com- manded by Thomas Drake was separated from the others by a violent tempest, and never more heard of ; while of her two consorts, the one in charge of Mr Winter took advantage soon after of an acci- dental separation, and sailed back for England. Drake was now left alone with only one ship, and driven by tempestuous weather as far south as Cape Horn, the very opposite of his intended route. Undismayed by these adverse circumstances, he resumed his voyage northward on the first favour- able opportunity, and on the 5th December reached Valparaiso, where he captured a valuable prize, laden with gold, jewels, wine, and other merchan- dise, and of course pillaged the town, which only contained nine families. Booty was now obtained in abundance. At one place a Spaniard Avas found asleep with thirteen bars of silver lying beside him; " We took the silver and left the man," quaintly says the account in Hakluyt. Soon after they captured eight llamas carrying two hundred pounds weight of silver ; and in the port of Arica two or three small " old England's wooden walls." 125 vessels were seized, in one of which were found fifty-seven wedges of silver as large as a brickbat. Tidings that the English were on the coast had now been despatched to the governor at Lima; but the difficulty of travelling in these regions was such that Drake outstripped the messenger, and on the 13th September, 1579, surprised seventeen vessels lying at Callao, the port of the very city where the viceroy resided. Here, however, he learned that he had missed the great prize of his voyage ; the royal gallion, called the Cacafuego, having sailed thirteen days before, laden with gold and silver. Without losing a moment, he immediately set out in pursuit, closely chased by the now aroused and enraged Spaniards, whom, however, he speedily dis- tanced. Notwithstanding his eagerness, he took time to capture and rifle four vessels he met in with on the way, resolved apparently that no con- tingent advantage should interfere with present gain. At length, on the 1st March, the royal gal- lion was descried from the mainmast, her crew al- together unconscious of the daring enemy who was rapidly approaching. She was boarded and taken without much difficulty, and was found to contain twenty-six tons of silver, thirteen chests of rials of plate, and eighty pounds of gold, besides diamonds and inferior gems. The great object of Drake's companions had now been obtained : if they could carry their booty safe ] 26 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF to England their fortunes were made. But through all these scenes of pillage, their bold leader himself seems to have nursed the ambition of discovery ; and the idea of a north-east passage to Europe, for long afterwards the ignis fatuus of mariners, had taken strong hold of his mind. Besides, he could hardly hope, in the face of the awakened vigilance and anger of the Spaniards, with the whole coast aroused against him, to make a safe return by the Strait of Magellan. Possessing the unbounded confidence of his crew, he easily persuaded them to adopt his views ; and having taken in water and repaired their vessel at the island of Canno, the adventurers, on the 24th March, continued their course to the north. While at the latter place, the pinnace had brought in a prize laden with rural produce, but which also contained letters from the king of Spain to the governor of the Philippines, and certain charts of the route to that settlement, which subsequently proved of use to the captors. Another valuable prize was taken on the 6th April, one of the articles being a falcon of finely wrought gold, having in its breast a large emerald. Finally, the small settlement of Guatalco was taken and ransacked, and there also the prisoners were set at liberty, together with the pilot, Nuno da Silva, who had been brought from the Cape Verd Islands. The north-east passage to England was now the sole object ; and by the 3d of June, Drake " old England's wooden walls." 127 had sailed 1400 leagues on different courses without seeing land, having reached the 48th degree of north latitude. Here the cold became so intense, notwithstanding the season of the year, that meat froze the moment it was taken from the fire, and the ropes and tackling became stiff and almost unmanageable. Putting back ten degrees, the adventurers anchored soon after in a good har- bour, on the shore of an inhabited country in 38 deg. 30 min. north, probably the port now known as San Francisco, on the coast of California. Here they had some singular interviews with the natives, who showed themselves very friendly ; and during one barbarous ceremony, their king or chief was supposed to make a formal resignation of his do- minions in favour of the English captain, who very politely accepted the gift on behalf of his Sovereign. The rigours of a northern climate had now so far cooled the courage of his crew, that Drake aban- doned all hope of finding a north-east passage, and at once adopted the bold resolution of crossing the Pacific, and sailing to England by India and the Cape of Good Hope. In his homeward voyage he crossed the Pacific without accident, and on the 3d November reached the island of Ternate, where he was hospitably re- ceived by the king or sultan, who is denominated by Fuller "a true gentleman pagan." Having thoroughly repaired his ship at a place called Crab J 28 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF Island, on the coast of Celebes, he reached Java, after a difficult navigation, on the 12th March. Here the voyagers enjoyed twelve days of unin- terrupted festivity, the five chiefs of the island, who lived in perfect amity, vying with each other in hospitality and courtesy to their visiters. From Java our navigator stretched right across the Indian Ocean to the Cape of Good Hope, which was doubled without difficulty, and thence shaped his course for England. He arrived at Plymouth on Monday the 26th September, 1570, after an absence of nearly two years and ten months, during which he had circumnavigated the globe, and carried on a course of successful privateering un- paralleled in the annals of navigation. After some little delay Drake was most graciously received at court, and Elizabeth now asserted more firmly than ever her right of navigating the ocean in all its parts, and denied the exclusive right claimed by the Spaniards over the seas and lands of the New World. The whole of England rang with the praise of Drake's achievements ; and though the Queen allowed certain merchants (who com- plained, not without abundant reason, of hav- ing been robbed) an indemnity out of the treasure which he had brought home, enough remained to make the voyage profitable to all parties. By Elizabeth's order, Drake's ship was drawn tip in a little creek near Deptford, there to be " OLD ENGLAND'S WOODEN WALLS." 129 preserved as a memento of the most memorable voyage yet achieved by her subjects ; she partook of a banquet on board the vessel, and there knighted the captain. The author of the memoir in the "Edinburgh Cabinet Library" well remarks : "The expedition of Sir Francis Drake thus received the approbation of his Sovereign ; and as the war so long impending was now unavoidable, his depreda- tions were forgotten even by his detractors, and his fame became as universal as it was high. Envy itself had even been forced to acknowledge, not merely his maritime skill and genius for command, but the humanity and benevolence which marked his intercourse with the barbarous tribes whom he visited, and the generosity with which he uniformly treated his Spanish captives, though belonging to a nation at that period of all others the most hate- ful to Englishmen, and in some respects the most injurious to himself." With a brilliant reputation, and high in favour with his Sovereign, Drake could now aspire to the first maritime employments. In 1585 the war with Spain virtually commenced, and he found him- self once more at the head of an armament destined to carry hostilities into the Spanish Main. On this occasion his fleet consisted of twenty-five vessels, two of which belonged to the Crown, and there were on board 2300 seamen and sailors. Among the commanders were the celebrated Martin Fro- 130 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OP bisher, Captain Knollis, and other distinguished men. After cruising for some time on the coast of Spain, and capturing the town of San Jago in the Cape Yerd Islands, Drake stood for the West Indies, where he speedily made himself master of the capital of St Domingo. His next enterprise was directed against the town of Carthagena, which, after a siege of six weeks, was taken by assault, and compelled to pay a ransom of ^SC^OOO. But here one of those contagious diseases common to the climate broke out on board the fleet, so that the commander was compelled to abandon some bril- liant designs he had formed. He sailed for the coast of Florida, where two small Spanish settle- ments were taken and burned ; and, touching at Virginia, took on board the governor and wretched survivors of the colony which had been planted there the year before by Sir "Walter Raleigh. By these returned colonists it is said that tobacco was first introduced into England. The results of this expedition, which arrived in England in July 1586, though by no means so pro- fitable as the former memorable voyage, were highly important in a national point of view. The dis- mantling so many fortresses was a valuable service at the beginning of a war, and, besides, the adven- turers had obtained ^60,000 of prize-money, with two hundred brass and forty iron cannon. The whole energies of the English nation were now u OLD ENGLAND'S WOODEN' WALLS." 131 aroused to oppose that formidable armament pre- pared by Spain for the conquest of their country, to which had been given the title of Invincible Armada. The merchants of London, at their own expense, equipped twenty-six vessels of different sizes, to which the Queen added four ships and two pinnaces ; the whole being placed under the com- mand of Drake, with orders to attack the Spaniards in their own harbours. He left Plymouth in April, 1587, and learning on his passage to the coast of Spain that a fleet was lying at Cadiz, ready to sail for Lisbon with supplies for the Armada, he made instantly for the former port. In the course of two days he captured and destroyed shipping to the ex- tent of 10,000 tons — an achievement which ma- terially crippled the enemy's resources. He then turned back along the coast, taking and burning nearly a hundred vessels between Cadiz and Cape St Vincent, besides destroying four castles on shore. This was what Drake jocularly called " singeing the King of Spain's beard." From Cape St Vin- cent he sailed to the Tagus, and, entering that river, came to anchor near Cascaes, whence he sent to tell the Marquis of Santa Cruz that he was ready to encounter him. The marquis, who was ac- counted the best seaman in Spain, and had been appointed commander of the Armada, declined the challenge, and is said to have died of chagrin at the mischief done by Drake before that ill-fated 132 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF expedition could sail. In fact, these successful operations delayed the sailing of the Armada for more than a year, and gave Elizabeth ample time to prepare for the defence of her kingdom. Having thus gallantly accomplished his public duty, Drake resolved on an enterprise which pro- mised to reward the spirited individuals who had enabled him so essentially to serve their common country. He accordingly sailed for the Azores, on the look-out for the treasure-ships from India; and was so fortunate as to fall in with an immense Por- tuguese carrack called the San Philipe, laden with the richest wares. The cargo, though of enormous value, was of even less importance to his principals than the papers found on board; for from these they acquired so complete a knowledge of the Indian trade, that they were enabled at no distant period to engage in this lucrative traffic, and lay the foun- dations of that powerful association to which Eng- land owes her splendid eastern empire. In the brief leisure which he enjoyed subsequently to this expedition, he generously took the opportunity of conferring a lasting benefit on the town of Ply- mouth. He introduced into it, from springs eight miles distant, a plentiful supply of pure water, of which the place was greatly in need — an achieve- ment still gratefully remembered in Devonshire. In the following year, one of the most memorable in the History of England, Drake was appointed "OLD ENGLAND'S WOODEN WALLS." 133 vice-admiral, under Lord Charles Howard of Effing- ham. Certain tidings had been received of the sailing of the Armada, and on the 1 8th July infor- mation was conveyed to Plymouth, where the English admiral had anchored his fleet, that his terrible adversaries were already on the coast. By noon next day his ships were at sea ready for action, and almost at the same moment the gigantic arma- ment of the enemy hove in sight. The issue is well known. On the 21st, with a force greatly inferior, the admiral at once commenced an attack, which was continued with unshaken courage from day to day, till, by the blessing of Heaven on the valour and skill of her defenders, England was freed from the most formidable assailants that ever threatened her coasts, and the proud Armada, shattered and disabled, was entirely swept from the Channel. On the second day of the action, the vice-admiral made an important capture. Among the enemy's fleet was a large gallion commanded by Don Pedro de Valdez, a man of high rank, hav- ing nearly fifty noblemen and gentlemen in his company, and a crew of 450 persons. When sum- moned to surrender in the formidable name of Drake, the Spanish captain offered no resistance, his vessel being already crippled and separated from her companions. Kissing the hand of his renowned victor, Don Pedro said that he and his companions had resolved to die in battle had they I34< DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF not experienced the good fortune of falling into the hands of one so celebrated for courtesy, gentleness, and generosity to the vanquished. In the case of our hero this was no unmeaning compliment ; and he showed that he deserved it by treating his guests with great kindness and politeness, and two years afterwards he received ,£3500 for their ransom. Such was the fame of Drake among his country- men of the south of England, that the common people long ascribed his wonderful successes to magical power, and his share in the destruction of the Armada was ascribed less to his courage and seamanship than to his irresistible incantations. In the following year, ] 589, Drake was employed as admiral in an expedition sent to Portugal to re- store Don Antonio and expel the Spaniards, the land forces being led by Sir John Norris. But like many other able leaders, Drake was not successful in a divided command. The whole expedition was badly planned and wretchedly equipped, and was finally abandoned, after the English had disgraced themselves by many unnecessary severities. The admiral, however, justified his own share in the transaction before the Queen and Council, and con- tinued to retain their confidence. This was the first check his fortunes had received, yet it did not pre- vent him, after an interval of six years, from again committing the fatal error of accepting a divided command. " OLD ENGLAND'S WOODEN WALLS." 135 The war with Spain still continued with unabated rancour but diminished efforts on both sides, when, in conjunction with Sir John Hawkins, Drake of- fered his services for another expedition to the West Indies. The design easily obtained the royal ap- probation, and a formidable fleet was speedily fitted out, consisting of six ships of the navy and twenty- one private vessels, having on board land and sea forces to the number of 2500. The land troops were under the orders of Sir Thomas Baskerville and Sir Nicholas Clifford. The whole set sail from Plymouth in August 1595; but hardly had they put to sea when dissensions arose among the com- manders. After losing time in debate, they were obliged to give up an attempt on the Canaries with some loss, while the enemy had leisure to strengthen their defences. When among the West India is- lands, Drake and Hawkins not only quarrelled, but separated for some time; and on the 12th Novem- ber, when the fleet arrived before Porto Rico, the latter died of combined disease and grief. Meditat- ing an instant attack, the English had anchored within reach of the enemy's guns ; and while the officers were at supper, a shot entered the great cabin, drove Drake's stool from under him, killed Sir Nicholas Clifford, and mortally wounded several others. The place was assaulted next day with desperate valour; but the Spaniards were prepared at all points, and ultimately forced the besiegers to 136 DRAKE AND THE BUILDING OF retire. The squadron then stood for the Main, where several towns and villages were taken and burned; but Drake began too late to discover that by this desultory warfare his forces were gradually reduced without any substantial advantage. Cha- grin and disappointment had also begun to under- mine his health, and he now began to manifest a degree of despondency hitherto foreign to his cha- racter. The enterprise, however, was not yet abandoned. The towns of Santa Martha and Nombre de Dios were taken with little difficulty, and at the latter were obtained two thousand pounds of silver and two bars of gold, with other valuable articles. Sir Thomas Baskerville now made an effort to penetrate to Panama with 750 soldiers, through the rocky passes of Darien. This fatal attempt gave the death-blow to the expedition. At every step he was assailed from the woods with a deadly fire of musketry; fortifications had been thrown up to im- pede his progress, sudden ambuscades burst on him from unexpected quarters, till, after advancing about half-way, the dispirited wreck of his little force, exhausted by fatigue and privation, were forced to retreat to the ships. This last calamity proved too much for even the strong mind of Drake. A fatal disease had broken out among the crews, and soon deprived them of the able services of the chief surgeon of the fleet. To this malady the "OLD ENGLAND'S WOODEN WALLS." 137 dispirited commander himself fell a ready victim, and, after struggling with it for twenty days, he ex- pired on the 28th January 1595, in the 51st year of his age. On the same day the fleet anchored at Porto Bello, and in sight of that place, which he had formerly taken and plundered, his remains received a sailor's funeral. " The waves became his winding sheet, The waters were his tomb ; But for his fame the ocean sea Was not sufficient room." The greater part of the life of this remarkable man was spent in prosecution of the various public and private enterprises here narrated. Of his ex- traordinary talents his history affords continued evidence, and though fond of amassing wealth, he was generous and bountiful in its distribution. He has been charged with ambition; but it has been well remarked, that never in any man did that in- firmity take a happier direction for the welfare of his country. His example did more to advance the maritime power and reputation of England, than that of all the navigators who preceded him; he indicated or led the way to new sources of trade, and opened that career of commercial prosperity and national aggrandisement which his countrymen are still pursuing. We must judge the darker shades of his character by the standard of his own rough times; and though in many of his exploits 138 DRAKE. he appears chiefly in the light of a daring and skil- ful buccaneer, it cannot be forgotten that the most exceptionable of these enterprises were directed against that bigoted and grasping power, which had ever shown itself the unwearied enemy alike of England and of European liberty. DTJPUYTREN THE RESOLUTE SURGEON". On a morning of November in the year 1794, young Chassagne, a good-natured ruddy-complex- ioned water-carrier, was crying " A l'eau! a l'eau!" at the very top of his lungs, no doubt that the good people in the Rue Hautefeuille might know that that important personage was there with his buck- ets. No one looked out with a call or a nod, and Chassagne, entering an old lumbering house, was presently before Madame Gibard. " Do you want water, mistress?" said he. " Aye, and that I do," replied she, and Chassagne having emptied his buckets was going forth to continue his work, when, the postman entering, threw down a letter on the table, and calling out "post paid," went along. " This is for the young student in the room next to yours, Chassagne," said Madame. " Get up stairs with it, perhaps it contains some money, of which he is in much need, for he has not been down stairs for three long days, and I fear he has had nothing to eat, nor can I offer him anything, he is so proud." Chassagne was a simple, soft-hearted soul, with a little fountain of water always about the back of his eyes, ready to start at the touch of pity, and 140 DUFUYTREN when ho beard that the poor student had been three days without food he could not restrain him- self. " Ah ! we must get him something," said he. " Give me the letter, perhaps I may be the bearer of good news," and, getting a little merry with his hope, for he could be pitiful and cheerful by short turns, he proceeded up stairs to the room of the student. On rapping at the door he was requested by a low voice to enter, which he did, and then he saw at a glance quite enough of misery to touch any heart which has in it the chords of human tenderness. A pale, delicate-looking youth was sitting on a low bed, covered with a thin mattress, some sheets of writing were scattered about, a number of books lay on a small table alongside, and on an old chair were his clothes, folded up with some care, but no sign of eatables could be seen anywhere. Chassagne handed him the letter, say- ing that the porteress had requested him to deliver it, and no sooner had the youth got it into his hands, and glanced at the address, than he ex- claimed, "From Pierre Buffiere," but what these words meant more than the name of somebody, Chassagne could not understand. That the perusal of the letter gave him pain, was, however, clear enough, for he writhed and rolled himself about, and sent much indignation from his dark eyes, ex- claiming, "cruel" and "shameful," all to the great dismay and distress of poor Chassagne, who, in THE RESOLUTE SURGEON. 141 addition to his pity, was overcome with shame at the thought of being an unwelcome witness of so much suffering. If Chassagne was tender-hearted, he was also practical, and he was not long in drawing an ad- mission from the young man that he was " dying of hunger," an admission painful enough to one possessed of so much sympathy, but Chassagne, true to his character, was in a minute again cheerful, for he had another thought in his head. "It is too evident you are hungry," said he, "and with your permission I will just take breakfast with you;" and, without waiting to notice the effect of his apparently misplaced humour on the part of the proud and miserable student, he set about clearing the table, and spreading out upon it a sheet of clean white paper. A small loaf of bread and two sous worth of cheese, bought for his own breakfast, im- mediately followed, and he was presently off for something, as he said, to moisten it. A bottle of wine now made its appearance, and the uninvited guest or patron having seated himself, began to dole out the small rations, taking the lesser portion to himself. " Perhaps you will not drink with me," said he, as he filled up the glasses, " because I am a poor waterman and you are a gentleman." The reproof brought Guillaume to his senses and his gratitude. " Forgive me, my dear fellow," he re- plied with suppressed emotion, " you cannot know 1 12 DUPUYTREN what I am now suffering; even your kindness adds to my anguish, for you are a stranger to me, and lie from Avliom I received that heartless letter is a wealthy relative, and has known me from my very- birth. I told him the extremity of my situation, how I had been obliged to leave the college of La Marche, that I had no means, no money, no clothes, no food. I begged him to advance a few louis, and he sends me one, with remonstrances, advices, and reproaches. He even tells me I am a burden to my family." " Ah ! it will be the louis that burdens him," said Chassagne, with a twinkle in his eye. " Send it back to him and the burden will cease. I was my- self left an orphan with no one to help me, and yet I have never been allowed to want. No — nor shall you want so long as I have anything to share with you." This pretty speech coming from one so poor, again touched the heart of the student. {t I will repay you a hundred-fold," said he, as he held out his hand to his benefactor. "I am ambitious," he added, as his eye lighted up with returning hope, " and I shall one day be head surgeon of the Hospital." " I am ambitious, too," replied Chassagne, with a return of his humour. " I want to have a water cask in place of two buckets — yes, a new water cask, painted of a bright red, with blue hoops." ■ THE KESOLUTE SURGEON. 143 In the midst of his grief the student could not help smiling as he thought of the different views of mankind, and how so lowly an object could in- spire so much hope. After meditating a little, " "Would a water-cask be very expensive?" he in- quired. " Why, Monsieur, a new one would cost at least two hundred and sixty francs ; but," whispering confidentially, " I have two hundred laid past." This little piece of confidence, which Chassagne had probably not trusted to any other human be- ing, completed the friendship of the unequal com- panions, and after some further conversation the student prepared his answer to his relative, and throwing on his coat, went out to put the letter in the post-office. He had scarcely gone when the cold-blooded Monsieur Bouvard, the landlord of the rooms, entered. "Come out of there," he said gruffly to Chassagne, and the latter having obeyed, the landlord locked the door and took possession of the key. " What is the meaning of this?" enquired Chassagne. " The student shan't enter there again till I am paid my rent," was the answer. Chas- sagne was in agony. Taking Bouvard by the coat, he pulled him into his own room. " What is he due you?" said he. The sum stated was paltry enough, no doubt, but formidable in a great degree to the custodier of part of the price of the new water cask, painted red, with blue hoops. " There 144j DUPUYTREtf is the sum," said he, with a choking voice. " Give me Guillaume's key," and having got the one for the other, he ran and again opened the door. A few minutes afterwards Guillaume entered his own garret. He listened, and heard the voice of the stern Bouvard. "Ah! he has come for his rent," he ejaculated, " and he will be in at me — a new misery," and he stamped on the floor in his dis- tress. The hand of Chassagne was on his shoulder. " I have paid the churl your rent," said he, laugh- ing, "and all my grief is for the water cask with the blue hoops." What strange thoughts are always waiting to rush in, and move a man violently. The act of Chassagne moved the student to the quick. What his own necessities could not do, this man's kindness accomplished. " Yes," he said, " I will try some of my wealthy fellow-students," and hastening to the Rue du Bac in the Faubourg St Germain, he rang at the gate of one of the finest houses in the street, and asked for Monsieur le Comte Leon. To his schoolfellow he held out a warm hand, told him his misery, and asked for a loan of ten louis. The young man laughed heartily at the smallness of the sum. " You are a fool," said he, " to be distressed about such a trifle ; but do you know this is my birthday — we are expecting company ; but, my dear fellow, I can see you at another time." "Next time you will seek me," said Guillaume in anguish the resolute surgeon. 145 and irony, and, rushing out of the room, he regained the street. " Come, loiterer, your soup will be cold," cried Chassagne to him as he entered sadly his garret, for the poor fellow had again been pur- veying for his newly-acquired friend. Nor did he cease for a considerable time to provide the means of living to one for whom he had taken an affection. Meanwhile matters changed a little. Our student entered, in 1795, as an in-door pupil of the hospi- tal part of the new establishment of the School of Medicine. The principal physician soon came to appreciate the talents of the young pupil ; and to do him good, he proposed one day to put a great patient under his management. Fortune some- times gives a stomach and no food ; sometimes a feast. The patient was Leon's father, who pre- sented the student with twenty-five louis in gold for helping him to health. Ah ! Chassagne, you do not yet know that, or you would not stand there at the door of the house in the Hue Hautefeuille, so sad and spiritless, because of that hope of the water-cask deferred ! The street was nearly de- serted ; no sounds were to be heard but those of a few passengers returning home, when slowly the rattle of a light water-cart fell on the ears of the musing Chassagne. The cart came up, and stopped before the door. Between the trams was Guil- laume, the student, who had bought the vehicle with part of his earnings, and hurled it home, for T 146 DUPUYTEEN tlie simple reason that he had no horse to put into it. " Come," he cried, to the astonished Chassagne, " you will put up this cart, and then let us go to supper." We have thus been narrating, on French autho- rity, some incidents in the life of Guillaume Du- puytren, one of the most accomplished surgeons of modern times. He was born at Limousin, on 6th October 1777 ; his father, Pierre Buffiere, being an advocate there, not very easy in his cir- cumstances. At first, the education of Guillaume was much neglected. A strong tendency towards hauteur and egotism, qualities which, however un- amiable, are often at the root of self-reliance and success, was early observed, without any care hav- ing been taken to suppress or regulate it. One of those traits of romance to be found in the early parts of the lives of great men, went near to making him a "great" child, whereby he might have escaped being so great a surgeon. A rich lady, in passing through Limousin, was so struck by the figure and air of the child, that she carried him off for the purpose of adopting him, and the father was at great trouble to get him restored. Nine years later, a captain of cavalry, named Keffer, encountered the boy while playing on the street, and, like the lady, taken with his physiognomy, began to question him ; when, not less pleased with the brusque intelligence of his answers, he offered THE EESOLUTE SURGEON. 147 to take care of his education if he would accompany him to Paris. This offer was accepted by the father ; and the young man was shortly placed in the College of La Marche, of which the captain's brother was principal. He here showed an eager- ness for philosophical studies, and carried off many prizes ; but it would seem that his classes being finished, his patron's promise had been fulfilled, and no farther support allowed. At least it is certain, that in 1793, the young student had begun to taste of those privations under which we have seen him labouring in the Rue Hautefeuille ; for in that year he set out on foot, sack on back, and with no more provender or money than would serve his journey, to rejoin his parents, now located at Limoges. He now concerned himself with the deliberations connected with his choice of a profes- sion; and the result at one time was, that the sword should occupy the hand formed for the ope- rating scalpel. He would be a soldier. "You shall be a surgeon," said the father, and on this turn depended the descent of the scale that was to be filled by so many professional and golden honours. The young student was, accordingly, returned to the College of La Marche, where he occupied the small chamber of one of the scholars, and, it is also said, took advantage, from the necessities en- tailed upon him by his father's parsimony, or want 148 DUPUYTHM* of attention, of the small pittance allowed at that time from the bursary of the institution. He began with anatomy, under the famous Boyer, and chem- istry, under the not less illustrious Vauquelin. His ardour was intense, and seemed to be the expres- sion of that early egotism remarked by his mother — only it was now the spirit of self-confidence straining effectually after the means of elevation. His aspirations took the form of aphorisms. " Nothing," he used to say, "is more to be dreaded by a man than mediocrity;" and again, "It is better to be the first man in a village, than the second in Rome." Long after, he was accustomed to say that all the successes of a man are often nothing but the con- sequence of some early sentiment vividly conceived. It was at this period, when he was studying at La Marche, that all the public institutions were broken up by the disturbing influences of the Revolution. The student was forced to leave his little room in the college, and betake himself to the garret along- side of Chassagne, where the ardour of his profes- sional pursuits was, as we have seen, maintained in the midst of poverty approaching to starvation. The place of prosecteur, which he acquired in the Hospital, was certainly a privilege, but there is reason to believe that he succeeded more by the boldness of his application, at an age of eighteen years, than by the proficiency he had yet acquired THE KESOLUTE SUKGEON. 149 in Lis art, for he was placed only in the fourth rank, and his pride was hurt by an injunction to double his efforts to become worthy of the charge. The examinators knew little of the youth whom they thus " snaffled and spurred." His impatient and fiery spirit, there is little doubt, was stung to the quick by this reproof from the judges — he rose at once to a level with the occasion, and a very short period served to place him first where he had been set down as fourth. A year or two afterwards he had risen so high in the estimation of the heads of the school, that by a special delibera- tion they reclaimed him from the grasp of the con- scription. He was at this time only twenty years of age. A year or two later, the situation of chief of the anatomical demonstrators having been vacated by the death of Fragonard, seven candidates pre- sented themselves, but five of these having retired, the competition was limited to Durneril and Du- puytren. The former took the prize, and in a short time afterwards was elevated to the chair of ana- tomy, when Dupuytren, on the recommendation of his friend and admirer, Chaussier, filled the charge for which he had competed. It is acknowledged on all hands that at this time Dupuytren appeared to be a marvel of energy and ingenuity. His preparations in anatomy ; his re- searches into parts of the body subserving functions not well understood; his experiments in interrupting 150 DUPTJYTREN natural actions of the system to shew the effects ; his investigations into the development of imjDortant organs of the body ; and his endless vivisections ; all followed up with unexampled rapidity and success, were no less a wonder to the professors themselves than to the scholars who profited by them. An ardour of this kind could not exist without emulation, and this was one of the peculiarities of the man. It happened — perhaps fortunately for the cause of the art, if not of himself — that the cele- brated Bichat was now at the very pinnacle of his fame. He had made many discoveries, from which Dupuytren himself had derived advantage, and one might have thought that the superior age of the professor would have secured him from the aggres- sive envy of the younger aspirant. Dupuytren's mind was incapable of any thoughts or sentiments which might cross the rapid course of his progress. To friends out of the profession, and to patients who submitted to him, he had the heart of a man, but to rivals in the path which leads to fame he showed no mercy, and there is no doubt truth in the charge brought against him, that he was unscrupulous to a degree as to the sources from which he took his laurels, the manner of cutting them, or the mode of attaching them to his brow. In regard to his view of his rival Bichat, the common obser- vation at the time was, that the bays of Miltiades troubled the sleep of Themistoclcs. It happened, THE EESOLUTE SUKGEON. 151 too, that Bichat was filled with an enthusiasm scarcely surpassed, by that of Dupuytren himself, and this led hhn into a novel field of inquiry, the contemplation of which filled Dupuytren with " professional rage." By the aid of his assistants, Bichat had in the course of a few months made dissections of no fewer than six hundred dead bodies, upon the appearances of which he impro- vised from his chair with a success which brought him fame from all parts of Europe. This triumph could not be borne by his rising and ambitious rival. Dupuytren threw himself into the same course with an ardour even surpassing that of the professor. He charged the scholars who could aid him effectually to collect from every dissection all those appearances which indicated, by lesion or otherwise, disease. These were reported to Dupuy- tren day by day, and turned by him to account in determining the number of diseased organs, the nature of the lesions, their simultaneous occurrence in various parts, their connection with outward ap- pearances, their frequency as the causes of death, their relation to the season of the year, and their proportion as between the sexes. In a compara- tively short time more than a thousand bodies were treated in this way. The labour was on all hands admitted to be enormous, but what was labour to Dupuytren where there was a rival in the way? Strangely enough, that rival was removed by a 152 DUPUYTREN premature death, and Dupuytren, according to all authority, did not hesitate to appropriate to him- self the plans and the lessons of his predecessor. This unscrupulous proceeding raised up against him a bitter enemy in the well-known Laennec, who, taking the part of Bichat, laid the foundation of a hatred, which long remained the scandal of the first medical school in Europe. Hitherto his great triumphs had been achieved in anatomy, and they had been won at all efforts and all odds, nor had he ever yet been known to be daunted. He was now to enter upon a new field, with new and formidable enemies ready to contest every inch with the resolute asserter of the rights of talent. In 1802 he was appointed surgeon of the second class at the Hotel Dieu. Pelletan was surgeon-in-chief, and Giraud was joined to him as his associate. Dupuytren was now twenty-nine years of age, and considering how much of his time had been devoted to anatomy, it is scarcely possible to consider him at this time as an experienced sur- geon. So long, however, as he had a superior, so long was he under the stimulus of effort to free him from the burden of an incubus. He laboured in- cessantly in his new vocation, and Giraud in 1806 having followed Napoleon to Holland, Dupuytren was named associate to Pelletan, with the entire charge in his absence. Dupuytren was not formed to be an associate with any man — a position which THE RESOLUTE SURGEON. 153 augured of equality — and he laboured as lie alone could labour to cut his rival out. There thus com- menced between these two men, one of whom might have been the father of the other, a wrestle embittered by the fiercest of passions. About this time, 1810, he contrived also to embroil himself with Boyer, whose daughter he demanded in mar- riage. The affair had proceeded so far that he had signed the contract. A day was appointed for the ceremony ; the parents were present, along with the bride, but the bridegroom was absent. To a message, Dupuytren returned the short answer that he did not intend to proceed farther in the business ; but subsequently his excuse found favour in the eyes of his friends — that he had discovered in the girl a coldness of manner which indicated the absence of all affection, and that he had in vain essayed to break the ice. In the same year he married Mdlle. de Saint-Olive, who brought him eighty thousand francs. The progress of Dupuytren was still onwards. In 1811 he competed for and gained one of the two chairs of the practice of physic, and in 1815, after a fierce contest, he ejected Pelletan from the Hotel Dieu, whereby he at last secured the great object of his ambition, the entire charge of that establish- ment. His work, thenceforth, which he was deter- mined to divide with no man, has been represented as herculean. His patients often numbered 300. U 154 DUPUYTREN Every day he rose at five o'clock ; he finished his visits over the Hospital between six and nine. He then lectured an hour in the amphitheatre, gave afterwards consultations to outside patients, and seldom left the Hospital till eleven. The afternoon he devoted to the numbers frequenting his house, and between six and seven he again visited the Hospital. At the end of the Napoleon dynasty, Dupuytren had conquered all obstacles, and was at the top of his profession. A characteristic incident is narrated of him at this stage of his career. One morning in May 181 G, a splendid equipage rolled up to a large house, on the Place de Louvre. A gentleman de- scended, and inquired for the surgeon Dupuytren. It was the Duke Leon de X and he was shown in. Two patients having been dismissed, the Duke was shown into the doctor's study. " Do you remember me?" said the Duke. "I do," was the frigid answer. "My son is ill," continued the other, " and you must save him." Without saying a word, Dupuytren took his hat, and then inquiring if his cabriolet was ready, followed the nobleman to the door. On crossing the court, a man entered with a sombre melancholy face. " Chassagne !" ex- claimed the doctor. " Oh, Monsieur." " Call me Guillaume, or I will not listen." " Ah, my little girl is dying," said he, " and I came for you to see her." Dupuy tren paused for a moment. " Come THE SURGEON'S GRATITUDE; OR, THE DUKE AND THE WATER-CARRIER. " Do you remember me ?" said tlie Puke. " I do," was Pupuytren'a frigid answer. '* My son Is ill. con- finued the other, " and you must save him." Without saying a word, Dupuytreii follow, *d the noMcman u the door. On crossing the court, a man entered with a sombre m< lancholy face. " Chassugne !" exclaimed the iloctor M Ah, my little girl is dying, and I came for you to see her." " Come with me, then ;" and looking to the l>uk( , Dupuytn n said, " I will visit your sou after I have seen this man's daughter "— Paok 154. THE RESOLUTE SURGEON. 155 with me, then," said he, and the doctor mounted his cabriolet, taking Chassagne along with him. Then looking to the Duke, he said, " I will visit your son after I have seen this man's daughter." The cabriolet drove off, and before Dupuytren could arrive at the house of his old schoolfellow, the son and heir to the dukedom had ceased to live. When the Duke de Berri "was assassinated in 1820, Dupuytren was the first called. This affair served more his ambition than his reputation, inas- much as his resolution to open up the wound to let out the blood subjected him to the censures of his enemies. He was, already, Chevalier of the order of St Michael. In August, 1820, he was made a baron, and Charles X. appointed him his first surgeon. It has been said that even this triumph did not satisfy him. The political honours of Cuvier disturbed his sleep, and he dreamt of a peerage as the crowning success of his life. The revolution of 1830 disappointed these hopes, but did not, with all the sorrow it caused him, stifle his gratitude to the King, who was now poor and pro- scribed. A letter of his, pronounced to be genuine, is in these words: — "Sire, favoured in part by your kindness, I possess three millions. I offer you one, I destine the second to my daughter, and I reserve the third for my old age." A few words more bring us to the termination of the life of this singular man. One day, when 156 DUPUYT1IEN lecturing in the Amphitheatre, he felt his mouth fail him; and he at once perceived that he re- quired rest. He betook himself to Italy ; his journey was, throughout, a triumph : but he had scarcely arrived at Eome, when his old desire for work returned upon him, overcoming all the remonstrances of his friends. He hastened back to resume his labours, and again entered upon them with renewed vigour. By this time his ro- bust constitution was beginning to give way, and an attack of pleurisy, threatening an effusion, was the warning. The disease increased, till he was threatened with suffocation. His medical friends advised puncture, and he consented to the opera- tion ; but he changed his mind suddenly. " What more have I to do with life % " he said ; " the cup has been so bitter to me." He now set himself calmly to die, and retained in his last moments his unimpaired intelligence. This event took place on 8th February, 1 835. He left one daughter, who in- herited his fortune, said to have amounted to seven millions of francs, a fact which does not well accord with his letter to Charles. Dupuytren was above the middle height, with a large forehead, dark, penetrating eyes, aquiline nose, and lips expressive of that severe contempt and scorn by which his haughty mind was so often moved, yet capable of bearing, when the humour seized him — which was very seldom — a most seductive smile. His general THE RESOLUTE SURGEON. 157 manner was extreme gravity and perfect self-con- centration. Not content with having no rival, even within sight of him, he enforced the most ab- ject submission from his pupils; yet, true to the nature of such a man, any respect he was ever known to exhibit was in proportion to the boldness by which his exactions were resisted. His jealousies kept him in continual war with his colleagues, till they were, one by one, vanquished. He lived con- tinually among enemies, not only at home but in the school, where thousands crowded to his lessons ; and the peculiarity of the man was still so pre-emi- nent, that even those who lay under the pressure of his inexorable will, were forced to admit his great- ness and utility. In another respect his life was a contrast. His talents, every moment of his time, and his fortune, were at the service of those who stood in need of his advice. He was the physician of the poor as well as of the rich, and their grati- tude, which he could extort, was the only incense that could be accepted by a spirit ever at war with the world for victory and pre-eminence. Let us avoid his errors — his insatiable ambition, and the haughty dogmatic spirit which could brook no rival ; let us copy his virtues — the unflinching determination which overcomes every difficulty, the force of character which stands unchanged amidst the ebb and flow of fortune, and that charity and kindness, which of all things becomes every man as well as the skilful physician. LAFFITTE THE BANKER; OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. In the year 1788, a 3 7 oung man, about the age of twenty-one, arrived in Paris. He had the appear- ance of a countryman, and was evidently poor. Having travelled all night he looked wan and jaded. The truth is he had got no breakfast, and one would have thought that a supply of meat would have been his first object on his arrival ; but he had not a single sou to purchase for himself a dinner, having arrived penniless, with nothing to trust to but God, and a letter of introduction to a celebrated banker. As soon as might be he sought out, after many inquiries, the residence of this gentleman, and we may very easily suppose that his heart beat pretty loudly when he presented his letter to the great man, for upon the issue of that alone all his hopes of life depended. Then how he scanned the face of the banker as the eye of the latter glided swiftly and carelessly along the lines till he came to the termination. The letter was deliberately folded up, and out came the answer : that he had already four or five clerks in his office too many, and that he had no room for a new one. The young man received this answer in dejected LAFFITTE THE EANKER. 159 silence and departed — to go he knew not whither, but not, probably, without leaving some impression on the mind of the banker, whose eye followed him as he passed through the court-yard of the hotel. Except for this lingering look, which, after all, might have been the result of idleness or vacuity, the simple scene was terminated ; but that look, what- ever might have been its object, was suddenly changed into . attention as he saw the discarded youth stoop and pick up a small object from the ground, and stick it into the sleeve of his coat. It must be a pin. What then ? Could any thing be more common or less worthy of observation than for a poor young man to pick up a pin ? But the banker took another view of the apparently trifling incident — no other, indeed, than that it was one of those instinctive signs which indicate original ten- dencies of disposition and character ; in short, he augured from it a love of care and economy. He called the young man back, and engaged him to serve in a humble capacity in his large banking establishment. The young man was Jacques Laffitte, the son of a poor carpenter in Bayonne, who had a family of ten children to support by his industry. The banker was Monsieur Perregeaux, one of the ablest financiers and richest citizens of Paris. The French people love to recount this little story, and no doubt it deserves to be told again and again ; but we are to 160 LAFFITTE THE BANKER, remember at the same time that Jacques Laffltte, in spite of his habiliments, carried a good letter of introduction from Nature, who has small regard to the distinctions of rank or caste. Of a good figure, with a handsome countenance, an air of indepen- dence and freedom which even his hopeless abject- ness on that eventful day could not altogether sup- press, a vivid expression and a frank presentation, Jacques was calculated to leave an impression on such a man as Perregeaux sufficient to produce that attention which detected the little act of economy. Nor was it long ere the master observed in the pupil the real gifts which were to justify his appoint- ment, and the consciousness of which probably prompted the original application for employment of this peculiar kind — for we may now mention that Jacques Laffitte had no education except what he had picked up himself, and all he had done by way of apprenticeship in his native place, was acting as errand boy in the office of a notary. It was no mere slavish desire to become rich for the sake of riches that formed the spring of action in the mind of the young aspirant, nor could he have foreseen the calls that would be made on any public spirit or philanthropy he might possess ; he simply felt that he was gifted with powers of a kind and to an extent known only to himself, and this conscious- ness brought out the practical effects. Installed in his new office, Jacques, as we have OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. 161 said, soon discovered to his master that he was something more than one who could save by atten- tion to such small things as pins, or rather that his real powers were those generally considered, though often untruly, as being unfavourable to rigid economy. To his recommendation of freedom and frankness of manner, he joined a thorough applica- tion to what he had to do, and this application was always under the rule of a method, which, again, was the result, if not the expression, of a habit of govern- ing his thoughts. He possessed, also, that gift not always combined with self-reliance — a keen and ready aptitude to catch and apply the profitable ideas of others, and thus Perregeaux found in him not only a good methodical thinker, but also an excellent worker out of his own schemes. Jacques was very soon raised to the charge of the bank books. Every day he acquired more and more the confidence of his master, as every day brought out more and more his integrity and ability. From the books he was in due time raised to the respon- sible office of cashier. By and by he was assumed as a partner, and, at length, when Perregeaux died, he was left as his executor and successor. This act was the more honourable to him, that the old banker left a son, whose only duty or rather privi- lege it was, to draw a revenue from the house of Laffitte and Company, the entire charge of which devolved on the proved man who owed his present x 1 G2 LAFFITTE THE BANKER, position in life to a very small beginning — the picking up of a pin. It is not very well known how Perregeaux's bank rode through the terrible storm of the Revolution, but it is not left for conjecture that from the time when Laffitte became master of the establishment he continued to acquire reputation as a skilful financier. In 1809 he was appointed director of the bank of France, still retaining the charge of his own establishment. A few years later he be- came Judge of the Tribunal of Commerce of the Seine, and subsequently he was elected to the high office of President of the Chamber of Commerce. At the fall of the empire in 1814, he was appointed by the Provisional Government, Governor of the Bank of France, on which last occasion he gave one of those noble instances of his generosity of which we shall learn more, by refusing to accept the emoluments attached to the office, amounting to nearly a hundred thousand francs. It is at this point of his history that we are first called upon to notice the peculiar and high- minded policy by which the conduct of this extra- ordinary man was regulated. He had, by deep thought, arrived at the conclusion that it was not only possible, but necessary, that the national bank- ing establishment of France should enjoy an exist- ence and subserve a management altogether inde- pendent of changes of dynasty. He seems to have OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. 1 G3 viewed it as the Capitol by which the national honour and the public safety could be preserved. He had been a banker amidst the lawless exactions of the Revolution, without having been drawn into the vortex of politics, or having suffered from the con- flicts of impassioned, Jf not insane men. He had held the office of director of the National Bank under Napoleon without succumbing to imperial dictation, and the confidence of the new power called " the Provisional Government" was extended to him simply upon the grounds of integrity and talent, and altogether independent of political sentiments. In short, it came to be considered, that while Jacques Laffitte remained, the Bank of France could never go down. Nor was this notion without something to justify it. When the Allies entered Paris, the entire capital of the public treasury was seized for a contribution of war; the municipal exchequer was empty ; the bank was menaced ; and Laffitte, reduced to extremities, saw no relief but in a great national subscription. We may guess how low the public spirit had declined when we are told that Laffitte himself was the only sub- scriber — not a name followed his own. Due efforts were in the meantime made to keep up the credit of the bank. When Napoleon re- turned from the Island of Elba, Louis XVIII. had recourse to the governor for a sum of many millions. We have no account of the manner by which this 1G4 LAFFITTE THE BANKER, demand was met, but met it was, and that, too, without any effort to prevent the same fertile finan- cier from accommodating the needy Duke of Or- leans with a million and six hundred thousand francs. In this last instance we are presented with another example of Laffitte's disinterestedness. The Duke, despairing of help, had voluntarily offered Laffitte a premium of 20 per cent, upon the loan, and was surprised to find not only that he could get the money at once, hut that he could get it at par. We have only to cast up the difference to ascertain the amount of the sacrifice. Our admiration of such acts, performed by one who had raised himself from poverty, comes to be heightened when we find him maintaining so effec- tually the distinction between his character as banker for the public good and that of a political partizan. We know that Laffitte was a Liberal in a very extended sense, and also a very determined and uncompromising one; yet he contrived to retain the confidence, if not the affection, of the different powers as they came and went. We find him next in the Chamber of ^Representatives during the Hun- dred Days; but though he abstained from all active part in the deliberations, this did not prevent Napoleon from remitting to him after the battle of Waterloo a sum of five millions in gold, which Laffitte could easily get passed to England or Ame- rica for behoof of the exiled monarch. It is well OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. 1 65 known that Napoleon bequeathed by his testament the interest which had accrued upon this immense sum to him who had been the means of preserving it; but it is not so well known that Laffitte rejected the gift upon the ground that the sum was not placed with him upon the condition of bearing interest. The example here given was an act of munifi- cence due to one whom he had served, without, perhaps, sharing the regret of the nation at the fall of their chief ; but he was again to be called upon by the Provisional Government, on grounds of public interest. On the entry of the Allies after the battle of Waterloo, the remnant of the Imperial army re- fused to disband until they were paid their arrears. The public treasury was again empty, and the provisional Government had no alternative but to appeal once more to the head of the Bank, with the hinted threat of an enforced loan. Lafhtte had his reasons for not risking a meeting of the Council, and preferred to advance on his own responsibility no less a sum than two millions. Even here his efforts for the public safety were not allowed to slumber for more than a few days, for Blucher im- mediately followed with a demand for six hundred thousand within twenty-four hours. The period passed ; no rich Royalists came to the rescue, though the General threatened to fire the Hotel de Ville, and it was reserved for Lafiitte to relieve 166 LAFFITTE THE BANKER, the position by a guarantee for the money, which was raised by subscription. Amidst these fluctuating acts of munificence — on a scale almost unprecedented — in favour of one dynasty and of another — one monarch who was falling or one who was rising — Laffitte never swerved from the interests of his country or his love of liberty. Elected Deputy of Paris in 1816, he did not hesi- tate to take his seat on the benches of the Oppo- sition, yet he never sought the tribune except when he required to speak on his favourite subject of finance, and such was the confidence reposed in him even by Louis, against whose policy and Minis- ters he had arrayed himself, that he was requested to form one of the Commission appointed to inquire into the causes of the poverty of the Exchequei\ This afforded him an opportunity to declare his sentiments on the financial abuses of the Govern- ment — the forced loans and draughts of hypothec — nor did he cease to demand, with all the ardour of conviction, a system of imposts based on the public confidence. From this time forth Laffitte was a " friendly opponent " of the elder branch of the Bourbons ; still, as formerly, when pressing exigencies occurred, acting the part of a friend to his country by reliev- ing the constituted government of its difficulties, while he boldly blamed it for the follies which brought them on. A crisis on the Exchange in OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. 1 67 1818 again threatened disastrous consequences, which were averted solely by the purchase on the part of Laffitte of four hundred thousand francs of Rentes — a means whereby he preserved the peace of the kingdom, if not the permanency of the dynasty with the ruling policy of which his love of liberty was in stern conflict. And still, amidst all these disbursements, he persevered in rejecting, in 1822, the princely remuneration attached to the Gover- norship of the Bank. Though not in the exact order of time, we may mention also his effort, ac- complished by an ingenious device, for relieving General Foy from impending ruin, brought on by gambling on the Bourse, a generous interference, which required an immense sum ; in addition to which he was, after the General's death, the first on the list with a subscription of fifty thousand francs for the relief of that officer's family. In the list of those who were relieved by his unceasing benevolence we have also to place Chateaubriand, who, nearly ruined by the expense of his embassy to Rome, rapped at the doors of all the rich Royal- ists for relief, and with so little success that he was reduced to despair. He was at last advised to try the rich banker, who advanced him ten thousand francs on the instant. The early feeling of dissatisfaction with which Laffitte viewed the acts of the Government were ^stined to be too early justified by the famous en- ] 68 LAFFITTE THE BANKER, croachments made upon the Charter granted to the people on the reinstatement of the old dynasty. His cherished theory, over which he had long brooded, was to reduce the charges on the public by reducing the expenditure of the State, and with lively chagrin he witnessed a course of court tac- tics the very reverse. These encroachments, which are now matter of familiar history, were gradually progressing from one small step to a greater, when, in 1827, the dissolution of the National Guard, the boldest proceeding yet attempted, roused him sud- denly to the resolution of proposing an impeach- ment of the Ministers of the Crown. The Opposi- tion were proud of their leader. In the words of M. de Lomenie, " placed in the vanguard of the defenders of the Charter; popular as well by his opinions as by his generosity, the opulent banker sees himself surrounded by all the notabilities of the press and the tribune. Opening his purse to the unfortunate ; protecting industries, encouraging literature and the arts, and turning immense sums into the channels of public requirements, this man knows how to combine the greatness of his ser- vices with the delicacy of their application." This proposal of an impeachment brought Laffitte still more prominently forward as a defender of the people against the unscrupulous encroachments of Charles; and thus claimed by his countrymen, it is generally supposed that it was to confirm their OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. 169 faith in his friendship and participation, that he consented to give his daughter in marriage to the eldest son of Marshal Ney, the Prince of Moskowa. It was about this time that he began to view the state of public affairs as verging towards a crisis; and the love of his country, which, from his first entry into Paris, had never ceased to occupy his thoughts, inspired him with painful solicitude for the issue of such an event as the downfall of the older branch of the Bourbons. No effort could banish from his mind the conviction that that event was imminent. Adopting his vaticinations as verified truths, he began to cast about his thoughts in every direction for some means of sal- vation from a repetition of that frightful anarchy of which he had been an early witness, and the ele- ments of which he knew still slumbered in many minds. Nor could he find any resting-place for his hopes, except in the cause, not yet even sur- mised, of the Duke of Orleans, whose liberal sentiments harmonized with his own. Alas! how little did he know with what adverse fortunes these noble hopes for his country's welfare were to be linked by the decrees of fate. He was not a man to hesitate on the hovering advent of a crisis; but his boldness was still tempered by prudence, and the first whisper of his sentiments was the ex- pression of a purpose from which no man could turn him. He found willing proselytes, and en- T 170 LAFFITTE THE BANKER, countered terrible foes ; but his secret cause pro- gressed, till the well-known events of July 1830 brought it to a crisis. The dreaded ordinances were issued by the Government, the protest of the Deputies signed, and the order for their arrest had arrived, when Laffitte, with Lobau, Gerard, Maguin, and Casimir Perier, repaired to the palace. The issue is known to all modern readers. The palace of the Duke of Orleans now became the rendezvous of a general insurrection ; and when D'Argout ar- rived with the intimation that the ordinances were recalled by the King, Laffitte was the man who called out, " It is too late. There is no longer a Charles the Tenth." At the same time a deputa- tion, proposed by Laffitte, was sent to the Duke of Orleans, offering him the Lieutenancy of the king- dom. In proceeding with this deputation, it is said that Laffitte got his feet wounded by scram- bling over a barricade. The Duke perceived the wound. " Never mind my feet," said Laffitte ; " look to my hands ; there is a crown in them." It was truly Laffitte who achieved for Louis Philippe the crown of France, and it was as truly that patriotic act which achieved the fall and ruin of this extraordinary man. So long as he remained within the sphere of his peculiar genius, he was successful both for himself and his country in almost every enterprise in which he engaged. When he became a politician of France, with mediatorial OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. 171 views calculated to effect a fusion between the fiery spirits of republicanism and legitimacy, be cast bis fortunes into tbe common fate of Frencb moder- ation. In an evil bour be accepted tbe Presidency of tbe Council, and formed tbe ministry of tbe 3d November, but to bis disappointment be found bis measures rejected by one side of tbe bouse, and not heartily accepted by tbe other. He was deserted, too, by those men who had stood by bis side in the hottest hours of the revolution of July, and upon whom be calculated with a confidence equal to what he reposed in his own faith. Lafayette renounced the command of the National Guards. The excite- ment consequent upon a new revolution had not abated, and failures on every band aggravated the position by producing fears of another movement on the part of the republicans. Lafiitte bad for once committed a mistake, and no sooner did he satisfy himself of the difficulties by which he was surrounded on all hands than he resolved to recede. On 13th March, 1831, he was succeeded by Casimir Perier. But the man was ruined. Tbe revolution of July bad produced an unfavourable effect upon bis credit. His entry on public affairs had compelled him to abandon the direction of bis own banking bouse, and a losing balance sheet soon showed the absence of tbe great director. In July be had put bis money-box at tbe command of the new Govern- 172 LAFFITTE THE BANKEK, ment, composed in some instances of men whose capital lay in politics rather than money, and so it happened that Laffitte's coffers were rifled with all the avidity of political adventurers. On a sudden he found himself encompassed by a legion of credi- tors. Among the rest was the Bank of France, of which he had been so long the tutelary genius, and to which he now owed thirteen millions, borrowed for no other purpose than the good of his country. To liquidate a remnant of this last claim, after all his other creditors had been satisfied by the sale of his estates — one of which, the Forest of Breteuil, he sold to Louis Philippe for ten millions — he proposed to dispose of his hotel in Paris, and his share in the business of his bank ; but a national subscription, dictated by so many splendid reminiscences of the proprietor, saved from the wreck this grand resi- dence, which he had long before opened to concerts and public balls. In this subscription we find among other names that of Napoleon III., for GOO fr. The amount soon reached 400,000 fr. By the year 1836 he had contrived to satisfy every claim against him, and there remained to him who had wielded millions as if they had been hundreds, only a few thousands. We may add that M. Gouin succeeded him in the direction of his bank, which fell disastrously in the revolution of 1848. Laffitte had good reason for the exclamation which he made from the Tribune, "I ask pardon of God OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. 173 and man for the part I took in the revolution of July." With this extreme position of the affairs of the great banker, the interest in his life almost ceases. His subsequent efforts to redeem his pecuniary ele- vation failed on all hands ; but the sterling worth and love of freedom for which he had been so long distinguished, secured for him, without stint or ex- ception, the admiration and gratitude of France. He was elected in 1837 representative of the 16th arrondissement of Paris, and took his seat in oppo- sition to the government of the king, whom he had in effect placed upon the throne ; for he had long seen that the change of dynasty did not bring with it the results to true liberty which he had so fondly expected, and for which he had made such extra- ordinary sacrifices. His last public act was his pre- sidency as oldest member over the opening of the session in 1844. He then seized the opportunity for recalling to the memory of the House the pro- mises of the Revolution. The tremulous voice of the old man was drowned in the hoarse cries of the Centre. Of Laffitte it has been truly said, that he was a man whom unbounded wealth had nO power to make haughty, nor comparative poverty any influence to make mean. It is recounted by M. Arago that he always retained the just pride of his humble origin. "We may give an instance : His grand-daughter 174 LAFFITTE THE BANKER, said to him one day that her companions in the boarding-house called her princess, and she was under great difficulty to know why the grand-pa of a princess was not a prince. Tell them, replied Laffitte, that I am a prince du Robot. However enigmatical this answer might appear, as well to the princess as her companions, it is sufficiently intelligible to those who know that he had used the carpenter's plane before he took up the pen of the financier. Laffitte died suddenly of an affection of the lungs. More than twenty thousand people attended his funeral. It is said by M. Arago that there were found in his repositories after his death no fewer than 7200 entries on slips of paper, containing the heads of as many speculations, which were destined to be interrupted. As an example of the effect produced on subse- quent generations 'by the energies and virtues of such a man as Laffitte, we may give the following narrative (which we believe to be authentic), re- corded by one who was present at his funeral : — " Some fifteen years ago I was a kind of young vagabond, slow to learn, but very eager for all sorts of mischief, for which the gamins of Paris possess an unpleasant but well-merited reputation. My father was a small shopkeeper, in very moderate circumstances, and I attended the municipal school next to our house, or rather I pretended to attend OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. 175 it, for I liked better to stroll along the boulevards and amuse myself in tlie Champs Elyse'es. There was, in short, every prospect of my becoming an idle, worthless fellow, much to the grief of my good honest father, when a word of reproof, spoken in due time, brought me back to my senses and the right path. It is a trifling anecdote, if we may so use this word without impropriety, in a world where the happiness of a whole family often depends on so-called trifles. " I had not gone to school that day, because I had met on the Boulevards a long funeral procession, thousands and thousands of mourners of all ages and all conditions, deputies and mechanics, high dignitaries and humble artisans — a curious but interesting mixture of coats and blouses, following a very simple hearse. It was the people of Paris accompanying good old Jacques LafBtte to his last abode. There was something so affecting in this demonstration — that of a whole population bestow- ing on a simple citizen honours refused to kings, and only from time to time granted to such patriots as General Foy, Lafayette, or Gamier Pages — that even if I had not been too glad to take advantage of this new pretext offered so unexpectedly to my vagrant propensity, I should have followed the funeral. So I took a place in the cortege with a companion, and in we went to the cemetery, which could scarcely hold us all, and was closely guarded 176 LAFFITTE THE BANKER, by a number of policemen, and a detachment of municipal guards ; for sometimes governments fear great men even after they have breathed their last. I listened with deep emotion to the speeches de- livered by some of the popular orators of the time, and at last, when all was over, I made my way home, still having my companion with me, and, as a matter of course, indulging in as many bye-roads as we possibly could. You must not therefore be surprised to find me in the afternoon sitting on a bench in the Jardin des Plantes watching the gam- bols of the monkeys, and discussing the political merits of the pure democrat, whose loss France lamented in that day. During this chat I played with a little stick, and thus picked up two pins that had probably fallen from a lady's dress ; but, as you may suppose, I threw them carelessly away, and continued my declamatory address. " ' You may believe it or not, Jules,' said I to my attentive schoolfellow, ' I shall one day be as rich and as much honoured as the worthy citizen, Laffitte.' Here I made an appropriate pause, which was disturbed in a rather unexpected and un- pleasant manner. " ' Rich and honoured indeed,' exclaimed a voice behind us, ' you will remain a beggar and a good- for-nothing fellow all your life/ " I started and looked round, when I saw that the prophet of evil was a venerable old man, lean- OR A FORTUNE IN A PIN. 177 ing on a tree, and listening to our boyish conver- sation. '"No, my boy,' continued he, 'you will never become as rich and honoured as good Jacques Laffitte, and I will tell you the reason : You threw two pins away with great disdain, while he picked one up, and owed his fortune to that circumstance.' The good old man then took a seat beside us, and kindly told us the story of Laffitte. " He then rose and went away. I saw him no more, but his story made a deep impression on my mind. I became a steady and industrious lad. I attended the School of Industry, and learned a great deal in the way of engineering. Jacques Laffitte was always before my eyes as a model, and in passing through the street which bears the name of the illustrious deputy, I always felt the same kind of religious emotion as when I walked past a church. Some inventions I made met with appro- bation, and now I am what you see me — a not un- important member of society, on the road to wealth and distinction." JAMES MONTGOMERY, POET AND EDITOR. James Montgomery was born at Irvine, in the county of Ayr, on the 4th day of November, 1771 ; just at the time when Robert Burns — a boy in his thirteenth year — might be roving on the banks of the Doon, a little to the southward, in the same county. His father was, we understand, a Mora- vian minister. When he was still a very young child — three and a half years old — his parents re- moved to Ireland; whence, in 1777, he was sent to the seminary of Fulneck, in Leeds. Here he re- mained till 1787, and then took his departure to Mirfield, near Wakefield. By this time the features of the man were beginning to show themselves very distinctly in the boy; he found the duties of "a small retail concern," in which for nearly two years he had employment, by no means so congenial as the penning of verses; and finally, bursting the small bonds which confined him, he struck out, in the fearlessness of boyish ignorance, into the great sea of literary adventure. In 1790, we find him located witli a bookseller in Paternoster Row, Lon- don, having at length found something like a kindly resting-place for the sole of his foot. In London, however, he did not rest, and in 1 792 he took up JAMES MONTGOMERY. 179 his abode in Sheffield, which continued to be his residence until his death. He supported himself by literary exertion, contributing to the " Sheffield Register." In 1794, he entered upon more regular and important duties. In July of that year, the "Iris" was published, under the joint management of Mr Montgomery and Mr Gales. The latter shortly withdrew, and left his youthful coadjutor to the whole toil and risk of the undertaking. This brings us to an important and interesting part of Mr Montgomery's career. It was the period of the French Revolution ; in- tense excitement pervaded all parties ; prosecutions for sedition, or the appearance of sedition, were then common. The government was thrown into trem- ulous perturbation by the slightest appearance of commotion, and was prepared to visit with severe penalties the slightest appearance of disaffection. In the present day we experience a difficulty in imagining the watchful solicitude with which those who held the reins of power in the beginning of the French war looked upon men who were liberal in their opinions, or who could think without abhor- rence of French politics. James Montgomery shared with almost all ardent and enthusiastic young men of the time, a predilection for liberal sentiments. To use his own phrase, every pulse of his heart was beating in favour of the popular doctrines. His position, too, was singularly adapted 180 JAMES MONTGOMERY, to arm against him the rigours of those in power. Mr Gales, of the " Sheffield Register," with whom he was at first associated in the management of the "Iris," was very obnoxious to Government, and the accumulated hatred which had been entertained for the senior partner was transferred, apparently with handsome interest, to the junior. He was in fact pitched upon as the scape-goat to bear much. When the wolf has his eye on the lamb, the most inexpugnable syllogisms on the part of the fated victim are found ineffective. " If you are innocent, your partner is guilty, and it is all one," was, in effect, the language of the Government in prose- cuting Mr Montgomery. The proximate circum- stances of his arrest and conviction are worth re- lating ; they give us a slight but clear glance into the time. Mr Gales, during the time of his connection with that printing office which ultimately became Mr Montgomery's, had an apprentice concerning whom two facts arc known : the first is, that his name was Jack; the second, that he, on one occasion, being of patriotic temper, set up types in the office, for the printing of a certain song — the composition of Mr Scott, of Dromore — in jubilant commemo- ration of the destruction of the Bastille. It had been composed in 1792, and alluded, in denuncia- tory patriotic tone, to the invasion of France by the Austrians and Prussians under Brunswick POET AND EDITOR. ] 81 The types set up by Jack were not taken down by that personage, but remained standing in the office until Mr Montgomery became sole editor ; the precise date of Jack's operations is uncertain. About a month after the commencement of Mr Montgomery's connection with the " Iris," a ballad- seller happened to pass the office-door ; a printer in the establishment, hearing the proclamation of the wares, was attracted by its being in the voice of an old acquaintance ; he called him in, and, by way of civility, he pointed out to him Jack's songs, with the suggestion that they might enable him to turn a penny. The suggestion was adopted, and the ballad-seller came to an arrangement with Mr Montgomery, to whom the printer referred him, for a certain number of copies. The copies were duly received and paid for. " Two months afterwards," in Mr Montgomery's words, " one of the town con- stables waited upon me, and very civilly requested that I would call upon him at his residence in the adjoining street. Accordingly I went thither, and asked him for what purpose he wanted to see me. He then produced a magistrate's warrant, charging me with having, on the 16th day of August pre- ceding, printed and published a certain seditious libel respecting the war then raging between his Majesty and the French government, entitled ' A Patriotic Song, by a clergyman of Belfast.' I was quite puzzled to comprehend to what production 182 JAMES MONTGOMERY, from my press the charge alluded, not the remotest idea of the ballad-seller occurring to me at the moment. Accordingly, I expressed my ignorance, and begged to see the paper that contained the libel. He then showed me a copy of the song which I had allowed to be printed, as aforemen- tioned, at the request of a hawker whom I had never seen before nor since. I said immediately, ' I recollect that very well ; but this song cannot be a libel on the present war, because it was pub- lished, to my knowledge, long before hostilities between England and France began in 1793, having been composed for an anniversary celebra- tion of the destruction of the Bastille, and referring solely to the invasion of France by the Austrian and Prussian armies under the Duke of Brunswick in July 1792.' That, however, was a question not to be settled between the constable and me. The former, on further inquiry, told me that on the 16th of August, as he was going down the High Street, he observed the aforesaid ballad-monger, and heard him crying, 'Straws to sell!' As it was his business to look after vagrants, he went up to the man and bought a straw from him, for which ho paid a halfpenny ; but, complaining that it was a dear bargain, the other gave him one of these songs to boot. On looking at the contents, he thought there was something not right about them, or the manner of their disposal. Hereupon he told POET AND EDITOR. 183 the chapman that he would be a wholesale cus- tomer, and take both himself and his stock into safe keeping. The prisoner, terrified at the thought of going to jail, immediately informed him how, where, and from whom he had got the papers. He then took him before a magistrate, who, on hearing the case, committed the culprit to Wakefield House of Correction as a vagrant, where he had been detained till the West Riding Sessions, on the 16th of October, the day on which it had been deemed expedient to arrest me as the princi- pal in the affair. All this was news to me, and quite as unwelcome as it was amusing and instruc- tive. The trick of selling a straw, and giving something not worth one with it, was a lesson which, having never learned before, certainly re- duced to the amount of its value the vast stock of igfriorance of the world with which I had set out in it ; which, however, was otherwise so rapidly diminishing by my daily experience, that I had a fair prospect of becoming, within a reasonable time, as wise in my generation as the people with whom I had to deal then and in the sequel." This august and momentous matter — which, among other imposing results, furnished some respectable solicitor with a bill of costs indorsed " Rex v. Montgomery, J. B.'s Bill, £66, 8s. 2d."— afforded occasion for the display of much forensic and oratorical ability, learned gentlemen perorating 184 JAMES MONTGOMERY, for more than five hours. All this eloquence has happily passed into its final repose, but its result was, that Mr Montgomery was sentenced to " three months' imprisonment in the Castle of York, and a fine of twenty pounds." This was not the last time Mr Montgomery experienced the effects of that hatred with which he was regarded by the public authorities. "Within a short period after his first incarceration, he was again brought to trial, and sentenced to six months' imprisonment in York Castle, to pay a fine of thirty pounds to the king, and to give security to keep the peace for two years. This time, if not equity, there was at least law on the side of the prosecution, and Mr Montgomery expresses himself as on the whole satisfied. For no less a period than nine months, then, within a year and a half, was James Montgomery the inmate of a prison. It did not break his heart ; and in two epistles to a friend, published under the inviting title of " The Pleasures of Imprisonment," he gives a graphic, interesting, and hearty account of his daily proceedings. An extract from this clever jeu cV esprit cannot fail to interest readers ; it is a good instance of a brave heart looking a sour fortune resolutely in the face : — "Sometimes to fairyland I rove ; Those iron rails become a grove ; These stately buildings fall away To moss-grown cottages of clay ; Debtors are changed to jolly swains, Who pipe and whistle on the plains ; POET AND EDITOR 185 Yon felons grim, with fetters bound, Are satyrs wild with garlands crown'd ; Their cranking chains are wreaths of flowers ; Their horrid cells ambrosial bowers ; The oaths, expiring on their tongues, Are metamorphosed into songs ; While wretched female prisoners, lo ! Are Dian's nymphs of virgin snow. Those hideous walls with verdure shoot ; These pillars bend with blushing fruit ; That dunghill swells into a mountain ; The pump becomes a purling fountain ; The noisome smoke of yonder mills The circling ah with fragrance fills ; Thi3 horse-pond spreads into a lake, And swans of ducks and geese I make ; Sparrows are changed to turtledoves, That bill and coo their pretty loves ; "Wagtails, turned thrushes, charm the vales, And tomtits sing like nightingales. No more the wind through keyholes whistles, But sighs on beds of pinks and thistles ; The rattling rain, that beats without, And gurgles down the leaden spout, In light delicious dew distils, And melts away in amber rills ; — Elysium rises on the green, And health and beauty crown the scene. " Rex v. Montgomery" appears not to have had a very effective victory ; the young heart shows no symptom of breakage. Prisons, in fact, seem to have no terrors fit to tame the energy or restrain the flights of genius. In the summer of 1796, Mr Montgomery was finally released from prison, and recommenced his editorial functions. In the history of Mr Montgomery we cannot fail being much struck with the elastic irrepressible strength of his nature. Scorning the confinement 2 A. 186 JAMES MONTGOMERY, of a " small retail concern," he burst its bonas in early boyhood, impelled by the half-conscious power which lay within him, and lnred by the shadowy air-castles of fame to which young Hope so confi- dently pointed in the distance. The palaces, which looked so fair and so easy of access, of course dis- solved on approach, and left the young straggler on the arid sand. But he flinched not ; he fought on ; and, in a period which may be considered re- markably short, he cleared his way to an honour- able standing- point. Then he was thrown into prison ; surely that would daunt the young enthu- siast. It did not daunt him. He had his dog " Billy," the kindest of four-footed friends ; and there was " Ralph" — " A raven grim, in black and blue, As arch a knave as e'er you knew ; Who hops about with broken pinions, And thinks these walls his own dominions. This wag a mortal foe to Bill is ; They fight like Hector and Achilles." Besides all which, his fancy could at any moment convert the felons into satyrs, and the felonesses into Dian's nymphs of virgin snow. So that, on the whole, it was found a matter of extreme diffi- culty to break his spirit ; and, finally, it was deemed wisest to abandon the attempt. At first there was " exultation" over Iris " fall ;" but, when it was found that the exultation had to feed itself on " Prison Amusements" and the like, it subsided POET AND EDITOE. 187 into a low moan, and finally ceased. " They were mistaken," says Montgomery, with pardonable pride, " and so soon, as well as so thoroughly, were they convinced of their mistake, that from that day I do not remember I ever again experienced any annoyance from one of them. Twice, indeed, in later years, I was menaced with legal visitation from persons who did not avow themselves openly, but who, when they might have fought, exercised "the best part of valour," and in their "discretion" let me alone. Whether let alone or not, Mr Mont- gomery put his arm to the wheel with determined energy; and, gradually quelling all appearance of opposition, he went on with an ever- widening circle of friendship and fame, until he became an object of pride and respect to his townsmen. In ] 825, he withdrew from the discharge of editorial functions in connection with the " Iris," and on that occasion he issued a farewell address to his readers, from which we quote the following general glance at his mode of conducting the journal ; it is the honest, plain-spoken declaration of an upright man, free alike from the blustering pretension of conceit, and the affected modesty of sentimental self-deprecia- tion : " From the first moment when I became the director of a public journal, I took my own ground; I have stood upon it through many years of changes, and I rest by it this day, as having afforded me a shelter through the far greater portion of my 188 JAMES MONTGOMEEY, life, and yet offering me a grave when I shall no longer have a part in anything done under the sun. And this was my ground : a plain determi- nation — come wind or sun, come fire or water — to do what was right. I lay stress upon the purpose, not on the performance; for that was the pole-star to which my compass was pointed, though with considerable variation of the needle; for, through characteristic weakness, perversity of understanding, or self-sufficiency, I have often erred, failed, and been overcome by temptation on the wearisome pilgrimage through which I have toiled — now struggling 'through the Slough of Despondency,' then fighting with evil spirits in the 'Valley of Humiliation ;' more than once escaping martyrdom from 'Vanity Fair;' and once at least (I will not say when) a prisoner in ' Doubting Castle,' under the discipline of ' Giant Despair.' Now, though I am not writing this address in one of the shepherd's tents on the ' Delectable Mountains,' yet, like Bun- yan's Christian, I can look back on the past, with all its anxieties, trials, and conflicts, thankful that it is past. Of the future I have little foresight, and I desire none with respect to this life, being content that ' shadows, clouds, and darkness dwell upon it,' if I yet may hope that ' at evening time there will be light.' " On Mr Montgomery's career after his withdrawal from public life, it is not necessary to dilate. A POET AND EDITOR 189 pension of .£200 per annum was bestowed upon him by her Majesty's Government, — a very happy change, creditable to both parties, since those old days of "Doubting Castle" and "Prison Amuse- ments." A brief survey of Mr Montgomery's character as a poet, will indicate the light which may be reflected from his poetic efforts and the "circumstances of their composition upon his gene- ral character. James Montgomery was an early rhymster. An intense desire of fame possessed him in his boy- hood, and prompted his running away from Ful- neck. With assiduous and unresting endeavour, he pursued the phantom, and found himself led farther and farther into the morass. Fame would not come, and Mr Montgomery sank from the en- thusiastic ardours of youth into moody dispirit- ment, and an almost total distrust of poetry. He still had enough of vital fire left to enable him to discharge all his office duties ; but the nights of the imagination, and the soft dalliance of the muse, had given place to despondency, and something very like chagrin. There had been, in fact, a radi- cal defect, a deep-lying taint, in the whole mental condition and equipment with which he commenced. This deep-lying morbidity in the youthful bard took the outward shape of a feverish restlessness, a sort of mania, which nothing but fame could allay or satisfy. Mr Montgomery, in telling us of his 1 90 JAMES MONTGOMERY, utmost aberration, thus writes : — " The renown which I found to be unattainable at that time, by legitimate poetry, I resolved to secure by such means as made many of my contemporaries notori- ous. I wrote verse in the doggerel strain of Peter Pindar, and prose sometimes in imitation of Field- ing and Smollett, and occasionally in the strange style of the German plays and romances then in vogue. Effort after effort failed. A Providence of disappointment shut every door in my face by which I attempted to force my way to a dishonour- able fame. Disheartened, at length, with ill suc- cess, I gave myself up to indolence and apathy, and lost seven years of that part of my youth which ought to have been the most active and profitable, in alternate listlessness and despondency, using no further exertions in my office affairs than was neces- sary to keep up my credit under heavy pecuniary obligations, and gradually, though slowly, to liqui- date them." But those seven years were by no means lost. Disappointment, trial, and the expe- rience of failure, are a valuable discipline for any man. In this period of comparative rest, Mr Mont- gomery's powers had time to strengthen, amplify, and settle; his resolves became firmer, his energy more enduring, and his whole manhood more fully developed. The first wild herbage fell swiftly into decay — into total forgctfulness and dissolution ; and lo! in the fresh beauty of a second sj)ring, POET AND EDITOK. 191 there arose upon its decayed masses a healthy and umbrageous foliage. About the year 1803, Mr Montgomery once more attempted to draw a strain of true and noble beauty from his almost forsaken lyre. He swept the strings with a strength which he had never before shown, and his courage revived as he listened to the music. Besides, there was no lack of " applauses," and these always exercised a powerful influence on Mr Montgomery. The result was, that he fixed his eye on the laurel crown with a more resolute and a nobler ambition than hereto- fore; and on his banner, under which to conquer or to die, he inscribed the motto — "Give me an honest fame, or give me none." Mr Montgomery's manhood had now attained its ultimate development: fame he ardently desired, but an honest fame it must be; and, girding up his loins, he commenced a new poetic career. " The Wanderer of Switzerland, and other Poems," were published early in 1806. This small volume met with speedy and extensive popularity ; edition upon edition being called for, to the number of thirteen. After this appears " The West Indies :" a poem in four parts, in celebration of the abolition of slavery in the West Indian Islands by the British legislature — a subject on which the author had very decided opinions, and very deep feelings — " The World before the Flood," a poem of a purely imaginative kind; "Greenland;" and "The Pelican 1 92 JAMES MONTGOMERY, Island ;" besides a large number of smaller pieces ; all of which met with extensive popularity. Early inured to hardship and toil, Mr Mont- gomery struggled long and dauntlessly, until, at an early age, he attained an honourable and important station in society. During the noontide of his years, unallured into dreamy indolence by the smiles of the Muses, he devoted himself, with manly energy, to the prosaic but honourable and responsible task of conducting a newspaper. He pleaded with zeal, and with what honest insight he possessed, all those great social changes which met his approval. Withal, he found time to utter strains of song which would have been pointed to with pride as the whole work of many a lifetime, which have been such as to spread his name to the ends of the earth, and which have won him a place in the homes and hearts of thousands among his countrymen. Born when the first faint mutterings which fore- boded the mighty thunderbursts that closed the last century were just beginning to be heard, he was an ardent rhyming youngster when Mirabeau was flashing his lightnings over the assembled French legislators in the Salle de Menus, and when the Bastille was tottering before the rabid thou- sands of Paris. He was the proprietor and editor of a journal when Bonaparte was wreathing his brows with the diadem of Charlemagne, and Tous- POET AND EDITOR. 1 93 saint l'Ouverture was minutely mimicking the ceremony in Hayti. He aided with most strenu- ous endeavour the cause of slave emancipation, and celebrated the consummation in song. He saw the world all join in rapturous applause of the genius of Scott; he witnessed the avatar of the satanic and sentimental schools ; he heard the jubi- lant critics (deeming their power immortal) laugh and bark at Wordsworth and Coleridge ; he saw Europe sink into troubled slumber after the last thunder-peals of Waterloo. He lived to the time of railways and telegraphs, of steam-looms and cot- ton kings, of Californias and Bathursts. He saw Byron consigned to a mournful and too early grave, and he waited till Wordsworth sank into his rest like a shock of corn fully ripe. Then, with the snow of upwards of fourscore winters on his- unclouded brow, he peacefully and hopefully fol- lowed,— loved by many, honoured and respected by all. 2 3 JOHN RAY THE REVERENT INQUIRER. Among the older naturalists of Britain, there are few whose names occupy a more honourable posi- tion than that of John Ray. This place it de- servedly fills, not only on account of his high attain- ments in science, but also for the unaffected piety which led him to employ these in setting forth the wisdom of the Creator as manifested in his works. John Ray, or Wray, as he for a time affected to s|3ell his name, was born on the 29th November, 1628, at Black Notley, near Braintree, in Essex, where his father was a blacksmith. The humble rank of his parents did not prevent him receiving a liberal education at the village school, from which, at the age of sixteen, he passed to the University of Cambridge. One of his tutors here was Dr Duport, a man of considerable learning, under whom young Ray acquired a good knowledge of the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages. Among his acquaintances at college were Isaac Barrow, the celebrated divine and mathematician; and Tenni- son, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. Ray's studies were directed to the Church, and in due course of time he became a fellow of Trinity Col- JOHN RAY. 195 lege, then lecturer on Greek and mathematics, and subsequently filled other offices in the university. He was also distinguished as an eloquent preacher, and his sermons were esteemed for their sound reasoning and enlightened views of theology. As yet. however, he had not taken holy orders, being prevented by the unsettled state of the country. After the Restoration, in December 1660, he was ordained a deacon and priest by Sanderson, bishop of Lincoln, but still continued to reside in the university. The study of ancient literature and theology did not engage his whole attention. Ray was already known for his acquirements in natural history, and in 1660 had published a catalogue of the plants growing in the vicinity of Cambridge. Though simply what its name implies, a list of plants with their localities, yet, in the low condition of botani- cal science at that time, this work was very favour- ably received, and he formed the intention of preparing a similar book, comprising the whole of Britain. For this purpose, he not only requested his friends in various pails of the country to send him lists of plants found in their neighbourhood, but also travelled through a great part of England and Wales ; and in ] 661, extended his journey into the south of Scotland. He kept a regular journal of his travels and obser- vations, some of which are very curious. In Scot- 196 JOHN HAY land, lie notices the Bass Kock and its flocks of solan geese, of which his account is tolerably accu- rate. He found no plants with which he was not formerly familiar ; and the unsettled state of the county, with the mean accommodation for travellers, seem to have excited his ill-humour against the whole nation. Some parts of his character of his countrymen two centuries ago are very interesting : — " The Scots generally (that is the poorer sort,) wear, the men blue bonnets on their heads, and some russet ; the women only white linen, which hangs down their backs as if a napkin were pinned about them. When they go abroad, none of them wear hats, but a party-coloured blanket, which they call a plaid, over their heads and shoulders. The women generally, to us, seemed none of the hand- somest. They are not very cleanly in their houses, and but sluttish in dressing their meat. Their way of washing linens is to tuck up their coats and tread them with their feet in a tub. They have a custom to make up the fronts of their houses, even in their principal towns, with fir boards nailed one over another, in which are often made many round holes or windows to put out their heads. In the best Scottish houses, even the king's palaces, the win- dows are not glazed throughout, but the upper part only ; the lower have two wooden shuts or folds to open at pleasure and admit the fresh air. The Scots cannot endure to hear their country or coun- THE REVERENT INQUIRER. 197 trymen spoken against. They have neither good bread, cheese, nor drink ; they cannot make them, nor will they learn. The ordinary country houses are pitiful cots, built of stone and covered with turves, having in them but one room, many of them no chimneys, the windows veiy small holes, and not glazed. In the most stately and fashion- able houses in great towns, instead of ceiling, they cover the chambers with fir boards, nailed on the roof withinside." His account of the state of agriculture is also interesting, particularly when it is remembered that it is the Lothians he is describing: — "The ground in the valleys and plains bears good corn, but especially beer-barley, or bigge, and oats ; but rarely wheat and rye. "We observed little or no fallow ground in Scotland; some layed ground we saw, which they manured with sea-wreck. The people seem to be very lazy, at least the men, and may be frequently ob- served to plow in their cloaks." "When the civil wars and dissensions which then afflicted the coun- try — he himself saw the heads of Argyle and Guthrie whitening on the gates of the tolbooth of Edinburgh — are remembered, this state of things will excite little surprise. The famous Bartholomew Act of 1662 deprived Ray of his fellowship, although warmly attached to the doctrine and discipline of the established church. Had it only enforced uniformity, and re- 198 JOHN EAT quired him to renounce the solemn league and covenant, which in the time of Presbyterian domi- nion he had never subscribed, Ray could have been under no difficulty in complying. But it also required him to declare, that those who had sworn to this agreement were no longer under any obli- gation to observe their oath — a declaration which seemed to him so inconsistent with morality that he unhesitatingly rejected it, and was consequently deprived of his fellowship, along with thirteen other members of the university. His time was thus more at his own disposal; and in 1663, accom- panied by his friend Mr Willughby, whose tastes were wholly congenial to his own, he visited the Continent, traversing the Low Countries, Germany, Italy, with Malta and Sicily, and returning by France. In Switzerland he remained some time, and discovered many plants formerly undescribed. He returned home with a rich store of materials, afterwards employed in his scientific works; and in 1673, he also published a volume containing the more miscellaneous results of his travels. After his return he continued his' study of English bo- tany; and in the summer of 1667, visited Corn- wall and other remote parts of the country, collect- ing plants, noticing the habits of the various ani- mals, and making observations on the metals found in different places, and the modes of preparing them for use. His leisure time was spent in read- THE REVERENT INQUIRER. 199 ing works on natural philosophy, published during his absence on the Continent; in assisting Mr Willughby to arrange his collection of birds, fishes, shells, stones, and other fossils; and in framing tables of natural objects for the use of Dr Wilkins, then busy with his project for a universal charac- ter — a mode of writing to be intelligible in all lan- guages, and understood by every nation. Ray afterwards translated this celebrated work into Latin, but his version was never published. It was deposited in the library of the Royal Society. Ray had now obtained a considerable reputation for his learning and knowledge of natural science, and had acquired the friendship of Dr Lister, Sir Hans Sloane, Dr Derham, and others engaged in similar pursuits. He was also chosen a member of the Royal Society, and published several papers in its Transactions. Some of the most interesting of these gave an account of his experiments on the flow of sap in trees. Another of his employments about this time was the preparation of his collec- tion of English proverbs, published in 1672, a work which has not only made him known to many of his countrymen, who took no interest in his more scientific pursuits, but which exhibits in a remark- able manner the wide range of his knowledge and acquirements. His collection of unusual and local English words is also an important contribution to the history of our language. 200 JOHN RAY With his friend Mr Willughby, who, though possessed of a large property, had devoted most of his time to the study and investigation of nature, Ray had formed a plan "to reduce the several tribes of things to a method, and to give accurate descriptions of the several species, from a strict view of them." The vegetable kingdom was allotted to Ray, whilst the animals were assigned to his companion. This project was, however, in- terrupted by the death of Willughby in 1G72. He appointed Ray one of his executors, with an annuity of <^?60 for life, and entrusted him with the care and education of his two infant sons. This required him to reside at Middleton Hall, the seat of his friend, where he remained for several years. In 1G73 he married, but this produced no change in his residence or pursuits. He was busily engaged in preparing for the press a book on birds, left in an incomplete state by Willughby. It appeared in 1G75 in Latin, and three years afterwards in Eng- lish, with large additions by the editor. In the same year (] GTS) his mother died at Black Notley, when he removed thither with his family, to settle, as he said, if such was the will of God, for the short pittance of time he had yet to live in this world. The young Willughbys had some time beforo been removed from his care, and he had full leisure to devoto himself without interruption to his favourite (studies. Nor were these opportunities and advan- THE REVERENT INQUIRER. 20 1 tages misapplied, as the variety of his publications fully shows. Botany was still his favourite pursuit, and his first works regarded that science. One of them contained a method of arranging plants, then become a matter of much importance, on account of the great number of species known and described. That Ray failed in producing a perfectly natural system, will not surprise those who know the small extent of botanical knowledge at that time, and how much still remains to be done before this can be effected, even after two centuries of progress. Another work was a general history of plants, com- piled from various authors, and containing much varied information. More original works were his Catalogue and Synopsis of British plants, published in 1690, which Sir J. E. Smith characterizes as one of the most perfect of all the systematical and prac- tical floras of any country that ever came under his observation. He had examined every plant re- corded in the book, and even collected most of them himself. Some time afterwards he published a similar work on the European plants not found in Britain, embodying amongst other materials the results of his observations during his travels on the Continent. The other branches of natural science were not, however, neglected by him. Besides the work on birds, he also published a treatise on fishes, from the papers left by Mr Willughby, the expense of 2C 202 JOHN EAY which was defrayed by the Royal Society. Both of these books were illustrated by numerous plates, some copies, but others original. He then began a synoptical view of the whole animal kingdom, of which the first volume, containing the quadrupeds and serpents, appeared in 1693, and continued in general use till superseded by the system of Lin- naeus. A similar work on the birds and fishes was next completed, but was not published till after his death. Another posthumous publication was a history of insects, undertaken at a time when he was labouring under the infirmities of age, aggra- vated by severe disease. In a letter to Dr Derham he says of it: — "The work which I have now entered upon is indeed too great a task for me ; I am very crazy and infiim, and God knows whether I shall overlive this winter." Yet, even amidst all these infirmities, the pleasure and satisfaction he felt in contemplating the works of God enabled him to persevere. The treatises now mentioned show how much Ray had contributed to the progress of science, and many would have felt contented with the good thus accomplished. Not so their conscientious and pious author. Destined from his earliest years to the service of the church, he had always regretted the circumstances that prevented him from engag- ing in it. On the promotion of his friend Dr Wilkins to the see of Chester, church preferment THE REVERENT INQUIRER. 203 would have been readily opened to him, but he always affirmed that he felt it impossible to sub- scribe the declaration required. "Being not per- mitted," to use his own words, " to serve the church with my tongue in preaching, I know not but it may be my duty to serve it with my hand by writing." With this feeling he composed his trea- tise entitled " The Wisdom of God manifested in the Works of Creation ;" having chosen the subject as thinking himself best qualified to treat of it. His intention in this work was to demonstrate the existence of a Deity, and to illustrate some of his principal attributes from the various phenomena of the natural world, and in this way " to stir up and increase in us the affections and habits of admira- tion, humility, and gratitude." Few persons in his own time were better fitted to compose such a work, or possessed in a higher degree that know- ledge of nature in all its various departments, that familiarity with ancient and modern authors on connected subjects, that profound yet humble philo- sophy, and that warm unaffected piety which it requires. His work, consequently, had great suc- cess, and not only went through many editions at home, but was translated into -several foreign lan- guages. It is now almost superseded by more re- cent treatises, adapted to the improved state of science and the changes in the literary taste of the public, but these will be found to have adopted 204 JOHN RAT from it, not only their plan, but even a large part of their most valuable materials. Its success en- couraged Ray to bring out another similar work, named " Physico-Theological Discourses concerning the Primitive Chaos and Creation of the World : the General Deluge and Dissolution of the "World." As its title imports, the treatise contained his spe- culations regarding the formation of the earth, in which, according to the custom of the age, theology and geology were mixed together by no means to the advantage of either. Though it excited con- siderable attention at the time, it is now far less known than his former volume. Thus happily and usefully employed in studying the works of the Almighty, and making them known to his fellow-men, Ray lived for more than a quarter of a century in his native village. His means of support seem to have been humble, but few particulars remain of his private circumstances or domestic relations. His family consisted of three daughters ; and his wife, who was consider- ably younger than himself, is reported to have been constant and unremitting in her attentions to him when labouring under protracted disease. For some years before his death he had been afflicted with severe pains in his legs, which broke out into ulcers ; and other complaints having greatly re- duced his strength, he was confined almost wholly to the house. He died on the 17th January 1705, THE REVERENT INQUIRER. 205 at his residence in Black Notley, in the seventy- seventh year of his age. Of his character, his friend and biographer, Dr Derham, thus writes : — " He was a man of excellent natural parts, and bad a singular natural vivacity in his style, whether he wrote in English or Latin. In a word, in his deal- ings, no man more strictly just ; in his conversa- tion, no man more humble, courteous, and affable. Towards God, no man more devout ; and towards the poor and distressed, no man more compassionate and charitable according to his abilities/' His scientific merits have been acknowledged both by his countrymen and by foreigners. Sir J. E. Smith says that Ray " was the most accurate in observa- tion — the most philosophical in contemplation — ■ and the most faithful in description amongst all the botanists of his own or perhaps any other time." In zoology he occupies an equally distinguished place, having not only enlarged its boundaries by the dis- covery and accurate description of many new spe- cies, but also by pointing out the necessity of some improved method of arranging them. His most honourable character, in which, however, he stood not alone either in that nor, we trust, in any other age, was that of a Christian philosopher, who did not, whilst studying the works of creation, forget the acknowledgment and reverence due to their Almighty Author. BEEGUET, THE INGENIOUS WATCHMAKER. Abraham Louis Breguet was born at Neufcha- tel, on the 10th of January, 1747. He lost his father when he was ten years of age, and his mother having entered into marriage again with a watch- maker, young Breguet was taken as an unbound apprentice to his step-father. For some reason or other, Abraham felt a great repugnance to his employment, a fact which runs counter to our notions of genius, which we genex-ally find, if we are not always led to look for it, showing itself as an accompaniment or a result of an early bias towards its object. Perhaps, in this instance, it might have been discovered that the young man's feelings were due to a prejudice against his step- father ; but, after all, we do not require to have recourse to this supposition for saving a cherished theory ; for we have many instances of individuals who, even late in life, have signalized themselves by discoveries in studies to which before they showed no inclination. After remaining some years with his step-father, he was sent to serve a regular apprenticeship witli a clockmakcr in Ver- sailles. He was, at this time, about fifteen years of age, and whatever may have been his inclina- BREGUET. 207 tions at Neufchatel, it is certain that, under his new- master, a kind and considerate man, well versed in his art, he soon began to feel an enthusiasm in his profession. So far as we can learn of the disposition of Abra- ham at this period, it would appear that he was remarkable for great simplicity of manners. He never could understand, even afterwards when he became famous, what was meant by pride or con- ceit of talent, or genius : his ruling desire was to learn, to overcome difficulties, and improve ; and with this view he applied himself to all minute de- tails, without, so far as we can learn, having any foretaste of invention. It is probable that he wanted merely to learn his trade, in order to enable him to provide for his sister, whom he had left with her stepfather at Neufchatel, and for whom he entertained a tender affection. We may be helped to a farther insight into the character of the young artist, by mentioning a cir- cumstance which occurred at the termination of the five years. His master, it would seem, was quite satisfied with the progress made by his pupil, and did not hesitate to praise him for his steadiness, diligence, and application. Abraham heard him ; but he did not understand praise. The statement seems strange, but it is nevertheless certain, that commendation is often even painful to minds of a peculiar order, just in proportion as the conscious- 208 BREGUET ness of deficiency tells them it is, in their estima- tion at least, unmerited. The master, however, honest man, did not know, even after five years, the youth he had to deal with, and certainly was not prepared for Abraham's return. — " Master, " said he, without the ordinary thanks of a praised French- man, " I have a favour to ask of you." " What is it ?" replied the master, under some suspicion that Abraham's request was connected with remuneration. "It is," continued the youth, that as I think I have not been able to indemnify you for the trouble you have taken with me, you will allow me to serve you three months more without salary." This remarkable offer bound the master and pupil in a closer attachment, and Abraham was shortly to require the advantages of a friend, for at the termination of the three months his mother died and then his stepfather, and his sister was thrown upon him for support — a duty which was to be lightened by love. With scarcely means to support him and his charge for the most limited period, the natural impulse would have been to serve as a journeyman. Abraham Bre'guet had other thoughts. He had begun to look beyond the common routine of springs, levers, and wheels, and to enable him to get into that farther field, he re- quired to know mathematics. Somehow or othe* he got recommended to the Abbe" Marie, and hav- THE INGENIOUS WATCHMAKER. 209 ing attended the lectures of that distinguished geo- meter, he secured him for a protector by the dili- gence and success of his studies. This friendship, which was a reciprocation of esteem and gratitude, was as honourable to the one as it was advantageous to the other. After leaving his classes, Abraham made a small attempt at beginning business as a watch and clock maker on his own account. It might well be called a beoinniner, where the means were so limited, but he had no sooner begun than his genius commenced its development. The first object to which he directed himself was to overcome the difficulty of what is called in the trade the perpetual movement, by which the watch or clock should wind itself up by that energy whereby it is set in motion. The idea was an old one, but the execution had been theretofore so clumsy and defective that Breguet's improvement was a real invention. He next ap- plied himself to the formation of watches to mark the seconds, tell the days of the month, and sound the minutes. So perfectly did he carry out his ideas in workmanship that some of his watches made at this time have been known to be carried for eight years without being opened, and without departing from the most precise regularity. By such works he came to found a manufactory in Paris, the renown of which was to spread over all Europe. He was only as yet in the prelude of in 210 BREGTJET his fame, when the Duke of Orleans, then in Lon- don, happened to shew to the celebrated Arnold one of these watches. The Englishman examined it carefully, and every look increased his admiration of the simplicity of the mechanism, and the per- fection of the workmanship ; nor could he, except with difficulty, be persuaded that the specimen was of French industry. So completely indeed did he yield to the love of his art that he could find no peace until he became acquainted with the man who so far transcended the efforts of modern art. He accordingly proceeded to Paris for no other object than to see and converse with Monsieur Breguet, with whose simple manners and ingenious mind he was so well pleased that they became great friends, and subsequently, as a mark of Breguet's respect and honour, he sent his son to London to learn the trade under the auspices of his friend. Amidst other establishments, that of Breguet gave way under the Revolution. He was forced into exile, but he could not be idle, and, with the assistance of his son, aided by generous friends, he continued his inventions till the opportunity ar- rived for his return to his own country. His second establishment was superior even to the first, and rose to be the pride of France. He was succes- sively appointed chronometer maker to the Navy, Member of the Board of Longitude, and finally, Member of the Academy of Sciences. It would be THE INGENIOUS WATCHMAKER. 211 a difficult task to enumerate all the discoveries and contributions to science due to the genius of this truly great man. Navigation, the physical sciences, and astronomy, were all benefited by appropriate instruments invented by him, and wrought with wonderful perfection under his guidance. Nor was his taste in decoration less exquisite than his genius in invention. Even yet his watches, where they are to be found, exhibit a richness of ornament, and refinement of finish, which render them objects of curiosity and delight. Among the higher grades of his inventions we may mention his ingenious device for counteracting the effects of a change of position on ship chro- nometers, produced by the rolling of the vessel. The invention consisted in enclosing the escape- ment and spring in a circular envelope, which made a complete revolution in two minutes, and whereby the inequality is, as it were, compensated. He found means, too, to preserve the regularity of his chronometers, even in the case of a sudden fall or shock. This he accomplished by a little piece of mechanism, called the parachute. One of this kind was put to the proof by Sir Thomas Brisbane, who carried it about with him on horseback, and during severe exercises ; in sixteen months the greatest daily loss was only a second and a half. We may mention, also, his singular contrivance of what he called his sympathetic pendulum. If 2 1 2 BREGUET the watch went too fast or too slow, it was fixed to this pendulum before any given minute. In the course of two seconds, the hands were stopped at the precise hour and minute marked by the instru- ment ; and an hour or two sufficed for the interior movement being regulated to the true action as exactly as in the best chronometers. This instru- ment was sent by Napoleon to the Sultan. He was also the inventor of that instrument now used for measuring the movement of pedestrians. He called it the compteur militaire, and the declared intention was to regulate, by a sound, the steps of soldiers in a regiment. A still more useful contriv- ance was his comptoir astronomique. It was fixed in a tube, and served to reckon even to the hundredth part of a second of time. Not less in- genious was a metallic thermometer, which, infi- nitely more sensible than any yet contrived, showed changes of heat by an instantaneous absorption or development of caloric. The needle is suspended from a twisted wire formed of three kinds of metal, the thickness of the whole not exceeding the hun- dredth part of a line. It was to Breguet that the French owed the mechanism of the telegraphs established by Chappe. Breguet delighted also in small ingenious con- ceits. Of such kind was the small lady's watches, formed of two parts, an external and internal. Out- side there was a needle, which appeared to be THE INGENIOUS WATCHMAKER. 21 3 moveable in any way, but which, by a touch, in- stantly regulated itself to the hour and minute in- dicated by the internal watch. The object was to show the hour and minute secretly to the possessor as well by the eye as by the touch. In other respects Breguet was remarkable. It is said of him, that in the midst of all his incontestible titles to renown as a benefactor of mankind, he was ever ready to render justice to every man but him- self. We have given an instance of his humility in the early period of his life, and this amiable characteristic rather increased upon him as his fame advanced. He was often astonished at his own work ; and it was difficult for him to be brought to believe that he had any real merit. Nothing pro- duced in him greater wonder than the quarrels of learned men, nor could he conceive why they should afflict themselves, and others, by disputes about discoveries which were intended for the benefit of mankind. In short, he did not seem to know that egotism is a part of man's nature, and, more often than philanthropy, the spring of invention. DAVID WILKIE THE PAINTER OF DAILY LIFE. David "Wilkie was born at the manse of Cults, in Fife, on the 18th November, 1785. He was the third son of the Rev. David Wilkie, minister of the parish of Cults. His mother possessed the pru- dence and sagacity of her nation, and by strict economy and laudable industry so managed the small income of her husband, that they reared their family in that respectability which attaches to the station of a clergyman, without the accessory of one shilling of debt. David "Wilkie was not a volatile or noisy child. From his infancy, his character possessed more of the contemplative cast than of the loquacious. When scarcely freed from exclusive maternal care, he loved to draw whatever struck his young fancy ; and the smooth sand by the stream, or the stones in the field, or manse floor, were his sketch-books. When a mere child, he was observed to sketch a female's head with chalk on the floor ; on being asked what he was doing, he replied — " Making bonnie Lady Gonic ;" and it is said that the rude outline did contain some of Lady Balgonie's linea- 1 in ills, which lie had looked upon, in his father's house, for the first time. At. seven years of age, ho SIR DAVID WILKIE'8 FIRST DRAWING ACADEMY. in. i.. irl iraiuli i.-i uitraim '« '"'i" ■"■■ '"'"*• ' whM > '" ' ,r,, " P hh n "" 1 ' 1 -. •""'"" "' r „„., „, .1 „, . „i , mi >lo»ll i .I'.ii.ii,. Mo, oeuM no! lum lilrn iiil'l* Ii Ii» '■ i„.i,i,.„ , ubM I I wl it ill ft km oould In doing, mi >,.«>.<.. I tokoodoifoupofbojroMiilglrl md Mini— Faoi HI DAVID WILKIE. 215 was sent to the parish school of Pitlessie, the mas- ter of which seems to have been a sort of Caleb Quotem, for he was at the same time teacher, pre- centor, and session-clerk. But Wilkie was no lover of such studies as the worthy pedagogue de- lighted in. His heart wandered unconsciously to the great academy, from which he drew his models ; and all turnings and windings of grammar, together with the complexities of arithmetic, could not turn him aside from the forbidden path of art. Dominie Diston was often puzzled to conceive what the minister's son could be doing, with his head stoop- ing behind the desk and a group of boys and girls round him, and the discovery of David's employ- ment led to a gentle rebuke, for changing the school into a drawing academy. When he grew into notoriety amongst his barefooted companions, he set a value upon his drawings. A marble, a pencil, or a pen, was the price of such portraits as he did not execute with his free will. He is re- • membered by some, while at school, as careless of dress, fond of drollery, and loving pastime better than his lessons. Wilkie left Pitlessie school for that of Dr Strachan, at Kettle ; and that gentleman has been heard to declare, that Wilkie was the most singular scholar he ever attempted to instruct. Although quiet and demure, he had an eye and ear for all the idle mischief that was at hand ; and while his 216 DAVID WILKIE master imagined him engaged with his lessons, he was filling the margins of his books with heads, in all positions, amongst which there was a prevalence of the grotesque. Wilkie inherited the mechanical capabilities in a high degree. With his knife he fabricated little mills of different constructions, and pumps and carriages. He delighted to imitate the motions of a shoemaker and weaver, and rejoiced in the opportunity of exercising his skill in masonry. The wall of the children's room in his father's manse was a complete picture gallery of all the "queer" visitors of his parents, or frequenters of the church; indicating, at an early age, that ap- preciation of the humorous and discrimination of character which mark the more mature productions of his pencil. In Wilkie's young days the district of Fife afforded few or no facilities for the fine arts, and the taste of its inhabitants was as limited as their knowledge of other subjects was acute and extensive. There were few who could sympathise with a boy who loved to wander in a quiet contem- plative manner, by the murmuring streams, and gaze enraptured upon the blue heavens, or the pure white clouds that floated slowly over his head, as if beckoning him on to fame. Few could conceive the nature of that impulse which impelled a youth to sketch all he saw with whatever came readiest to his hand, and which rendered him miserable unless it could be gratified. His own father, when THE PAINTER OF DAILY LIFE. 217 he perceived the decided bent of his inclinations, was troubled. He was a man of much sagacity, and knew well that superior attainments were necessary even to enable a man to live by art. Fame was a coy damsel, and seldom smiled on those who wooed her. He also felt that his son would require many models and much instruction, before he could live by his profession. His grandfather of Pitlessie Mill, who had the Scottish passion strong upon him, of seeing his daughter's son " wag his pow in a poopit," tried all the arguments in his power to persuade his favourite grandson to study for the kirk, and quit a profession which the old man looked upon with certain scruples. The sages shook their heads, and wondered at the " Will-o'- the-wisp" choice which the minister's son had made. His mother alone, who participated in the feelings of her son, and knew his indomitable perseverance, encouraged him, although she knew that he was forsaking the beaten path which young Scotchmen of his station had hitherto trodden. With speci- mens in his hand, and a letter of introduction from the Earl of Leven in his pocket, Wilkie presented himself to Mr George Thomson, secretary to the Trustees' Academy of Edinburgh, in November, 1799. The drawings did not please the secretary's eye-, he looked at the specimens, then at the modest timid boy, reperused Lord Leven's letter, shook his head, and finally rejected the youthful applicant. 2 v 218 DAVID WILKIE The Earl of Leven interposed, however, and Wilkie's name was entered in the books of the Academy. During Wilkie's attendance at the Academy in Edinburgh, he enjoyed the instructions of John Graham, a painter of good repute, and the com- panionship of the since celebrated William Allan, John Burnet, and Alexander Fraser. He was a most punctual and attentive student, and executed everything he was engaged in with care and atten- tion. Everything he attempted gave evidence of a knowledge beyond his years, and he soon assumed the legitimate position which he subsequently maintained. The Grassmarket and High Street, which country people frequented on market days, were the favourite resorts of Wilkie ; his desire to fill his sketch-book with characters of a quaint and homely order being insatiable. In the year 1803, Wilkie gained a ten-guinea prize, for the best painting of " Calista in the Bath of Diana." With part of this premium he purchased a token of re- membrance for his mother, — his mother, whom he loved with all the simplicity and devotedness of virtue through years of toil and fame. In his hum- ble lodging, where his Bible, the "Gentle Shep- herd," a few sketches on the wall, a table, and a few chairs, with a fiddle, were his chief articles of furniture, he practised the same undeviating atten- tion to his profession. When wearied with paint- ing he betook lumself to his fiddle, and enlivened THE PAINTER OF DAILY LIFE. 219 his lonely hours by playing some favourite Scotch air. After acquiring considerable proficiency in his calling, having met with little encouragement as a portrait painter, and having finished his picture of "Pitlessie Fair," which brought him the sum of £25, he embarked at Leith for London, on the 20th May, 1805, resolved to study at the Royal Aca- demy. Wilkie pursued his one great object with the same indefatigable zeal in London as at home ; but the pressure of circumstances, and the want of encouragement, had nearly driven him to Scotland again, when he was introduced to Mr Stodart, an eminent pianoforte maker, and by that gentleman to the Earl of Mansfield. The Earl no sooner saw "Pitlessie Fair" than he admired it as a composi- tion. Wilkie had a sketch called the " Village Politicians," suggested by M'Neil's poem of " Will and Jean;" the Earl asked him what he would charge for a picture from it. Fifteen guineas, was the reply of the artist. The Earl was silent, and told his protegde to consult his friends upon the price. The work was begun ; as it progressed, the power and genius exemplified in it became the theme of commendation, and Sir George Beaumont, whom Sir Walter Scott reckoned the first amateur painter of his day, together with Lord Mulgrave, a celebrated connoisseur, were loud in their praises of it. Nor did their patronage of the painter stop 2H0 DAVID WILKIE here; they both commissioned pictures; and Sir George Beaumont henceforth became the friend and adviser of Wilkie. The "Village Politicians" was finished, and placed in the Royal Academy's exhibition, and its reception was far beyond the most sanguine hopes of the modest artist. Flattery was poured into his ears — the press echoed his praises— even Fife began to speak highly of him; but the most grateful commendation to his soul was that of his patriarchal father. If the execution of this picture produced pleasure to the artist, the settlement of his remuneration brought him pain. Mansfield had heard Wilkie fix the price at fifteen guineas, but without assenting to it; on the con- trary, he recommended him to ask the opinions of his friends upon its value, and now, when he knew that the worth of the picture was no longer proble- matical, he asserted upon his honour that he con- sidered the price settled at fifteen guineas. Wilkie firmly and modestly maintained the negative; but rather than protract a discussion with the noble Earl, he consented to give it to him at that price, although he had been offered £1 00 for it. Lord Mansfield presented the painter with a cheque for thirty guineas, thereby graciously abstracting £G8, 10s. from the pocket of his protege'e. This picture, though inadequately compensated for by the purchaser, spread abroad the fame of the mo- dest youth; and his subsequent productions tended THE PAINTER OF DAILY LIFE. 221 to increase his brilliant reputation. Wilkie was admitted as an Associate of the Royal Academy on the 6th November, 1809. On the 11th Feb- ruary, 1811, desjrite of the alleged disadvantage of youth, he was elected a Royal Academician. The attentions he received from Sir George Beau, mont, Lord Mulgrave, the family of Joanna Baillie, and other distinguished personages, were sufficient to compensate for any churlishness that he ex- perienced from those who could not, or would not, appreciate that simple and familiar style which Wilkie made so peculiarly his own. Even in the midst of the achievements of glory and power, however, we are ever receiving warnings of the in- stability of earthly things ; and be it recorded to the honour of our great painter, that the lessons he had borne in his bosom from the manse of Cults were treasured through life by him as gems that, amalgamating with the grosser requisites of cha- racter, purified and elevated the man. His father died on the 1st December, 1812, and the home of his childhood was the home of his kindred no more. He removed his mother and only sister to London, in August, 1813 ; and to a man of Wilkie's ami- able and affectionate nature, the reunion of the family was highly agreeable. On the 25th May, 1814, in company with his friend Hay don, Wilkie set out for France ; he was much struck with the Louvre, the French Gallery of Art, and with the 222 DAVID WILKIE sculpture in the convent of Les Petits Augustines. He tried to negotiate with various printsellers in Paris for the sale of prints of his works, but re- turned to London unsuccessful, either in profiting by the French school of painting, or in disposing of engravings. In 1815, his celebrated picture of " Distraining for Rent " was purchased for 600 guineas by the British Institution. In August, 1816, he visited Holland in company with Reim- bach the engraver, and returned home highly de- lighted with the chief productions of the Dutch school. In 1817, he revisited the land of the " mountain and the flood," to procure studies for the " Penny Wedding/' a picture which the Prince of "Wales had commissioned. This visit was a de- lightful one to the painter, whose patriotic feelings were strong and deeply rooted ; and it was produc- tive of pleasure to all who had the honour of a visit from him. The halls of Abbotsford were thrown open to him ; and his reception at the humble cot- tage of Hogg was as honourable to the poet as it must have been gratifying to the painter. Laid- law, the amanuensis and friend of Scott, conducted Wilkie to the Shepherd's cottage, on the " braes o' Yarrow." He had not introduced Wilkie as an artist, and the hospitable poet, who was yet a bachelor, was busy preparing breakfast* while his guests conversed ; sonic observation on art attracted his attention, and turning quickly round, he ex- THE PAINTER OF DAILY LIFE. 223 claimed, " Laidlaw, this is no the great Mr Wilkie!" " It is just the great Mr Wilkie, Hogg," his friend replied. " Mr Wilkie," said the poet, seizing his hand, " I cannot tell you how proud I am to see you in my house, and how glad I am to see you so young a man." This, Sir Walter Scott said, was the finest compliment ever paid to man. While at Abbotsford, Wilkie painted a picture of Sir Walter Scott and family, in rural attire ; and having collected materials for the "Penny Wed- ding," and some other Scottish pictures, he re- turned to the south. So quiet and unostentatious had his progress been through his native land, that he was over the border before Fife seemed to have been aware of his visit. To repair what might have seemed neglect of their illustrious country- man, the civic dignitaries of Cupar transmitted the freedom of the burgh to Mr Wilkie, which reached him at London ; and of which mark of respect he was very proud. Allan Cunningham says, " that Wilkie's first thoughts were of his native land ; his next were of his works." After his return to Lon- don, he resumed his labour with an ardour that more resembled a passion than a professional pur- suit ; his enthusiasm lent vigour and spirit to his works, but it subtracted in a corresponding degree from the energy of his mind and body. In 1818, he painted " Duncan Gray," the " China Menders," and the "Penny Wedding." He also received 224j DAVID WILKIE commissions from the Duke of Wellington and the King of Bavaria, to paint for each a picture. The Duke's was the "Waterloo Gazette," and that for the King of Bavaria was the " Reading of a Will." Such was the eagerness to see the military picture when it was exhibited, that the painter was con- strained to make formal application to the Presi- dent of the Royal Academy for a railing to defend it from harm; and so great was the eagerness of the King of England to obtain the " Reading of a Will," that he sought to influence the King of Bavaria to forego his claim upon it. So unremit- ting had Wilkie's application been to his labours, that his health began to give way, and he sought for some time relaxation and country air. In 1822, Lord Liverpool commissioned the pic- ture of "Knox Preaching at St Andrews." In that year, Wilkie revisited Scotland, collecting studies for the subject of the great Reformer ; and also with the intention of catching any striking episode of George the Fourth's visit. At the death of Sir Henry Raeburn, he was appointed limner to the king for Scotland — an addition to the honours he had already acquired. At the close of 1824, the clouds of adversity gathered darkly over Wilkie's social prospects. His brother James, who had returned from Canada in shattered health, died, leaving a widow and a family; his mother ; whom lie tenderly loved, was THE PAINTER OF DAILY LIFE. 225 removed after a long illness ; his only sister, an object of great affection, saw the man to whom she was to be wedded on the morrow, drop down at her side ; commercial difficulty beset his younger brother ; his elder brother, an officer in India, was suddenly cut off, leaving a widow and six children ; and, in addition to all this succession of calamities, the artist's own health was shaken, and his hopes of independence crushed. He became unable to apply himself to study for any time without experi- encing a painful sense of giddiness. After trying the effect of the Cheltenham waters for some time, which rendered him no sendee, he set out for the Continent in the summer of 1825. He revisited Paris, where he was well received ; and the nature of his disease permitting him to travel, he pro- ceeded to Switzerland and Italy. He passed rapidly through the majestic land of Tell, and visited with eagerness the Italian repositories of art. He could not read for any length of time ; the writing of a letter of moderate length was the work of days ; yet he could climb to the tops of the Italian churches, and mingle in the gaieties of the Carnival at Rome, without experiencing a sense of more than ordinary fatigue. The works of the great masters occupied his thoughts, and the letters he transmitted to his friends are replete with criticisms on their various styles. Michael Angelo seems to have pleased him above all the gifted painters whose genius has led 2f 226 DAVID WTLKIE the votaries of art beyond the Alps, and still invests Italy with a glory that partly rescues her from utter social debasement. Wilkie could not paint, but he could observe the labours of his illustrious predecessors, and render himself acquainted with their various excellences. These observations, and his deductions from them, determined him to change his own style. The commercial disasters which in- volved so many people in Britain in 182C, had a material effect upon Wilkie's fortunes ; but he bore his pecuniary losses with the same manliness as his magnanimous friend, Sir Walter Scott. If a restoration of health were granted, he hoped to sur- mount all his difficulties. At Borne he received a public dinner from the Scottish artists assembled there, the Duke of Hamilton presiding ; and, shortly after this event, obtained information of the death of his friend, Sir George Beaumont, which took place on the 7th February, 1827. Sir George had been the friend and adviser of Wilkie for twenty years, and he never spoke of him subsequently without a tearful eye. After two years' sojourn on the Continent, with his health slightly improved, and gradually and almost impel "eptibly resuming its advance towards restoration, he determined to visit Spain, and examine the works of Murillo and Ve- lasquez. Spain had hitherto been a terra incog- nita to the artists of Britain, from the danger of travelling through that country. Sir David was, THE PAINTER OF DAILY LIFE. 227 determined to enter this hitherto almost untrodden region of art, the fame of which had only been gently wafted at intervals to the nations of Europe ; and, by the kindness of the British, American, and Russian consuls, every facility was afforded him for visiting the churches and other galleries of paint- ings. He found many splendid works of the Italian and Flemish masters in fine condition ; and at Seville beheld the works of the two masters, the desire of beholding which had led him to their native city. The affinity of the style of Velasquez to that of the English masters astonished him much ; and he looked with admiration upon the mellow colouring of Murillo. After ten months' residence in Spain, during which he had painted the historical picture of the " Maid of Saragossa " and some other subjects, he returned to England with amended health, and the power of resuming, for a short period, the prosecution of his labours. His researches in Italy and Spain had determined him upon an alteration in style, which promised him greater breadth of colouring, and rapidity of execution. This, to some of his friends, seemed a hazardous experiment, but subsequent events soon stamped it with the character of a transition as worthy of his genius as of success. The few pic- tures he brought from Italy and Spain found ready purchasers, and obtained great admiration from the public. 228 DAVID WILKIE By the death of Sir Thomas Lawrence, Wilkie was appointed to be principal painter in ordinary to George IV., in the beginning of 1830. His health gradually acquired stability ; and the power of application was hailed with gratitude, and used diligently, by our great painter. He complet- ed many pictures which his illness had caused him to leave in progress ; and he began the great national picture of " Knox Preaching at St Andrews." This magnificent painting, in which he embodied the ex- cellences of his genius and matured studies, was pur- chased by Sir Robert Peel for 1200 guineas. At the death of George IV., Wilkie was still retained in his office by William IV., and executed many portraits in accordance with his situation. In 1835 he visited Ireland, and demonstrated its applicability to artis- tic delineation. The chivalrous character of the people, the costume of the peasantry, the stirring incidents of her eventful history, and the graphic disorder of their social habits, all struck him as favourable subjects for study; and the "Peepo' Day Boy," with the " Whisky-Still," attested the clearness of his ideas on this subject. He was, created a knight on the 21st June, 1836 — an ho- nour which he received with his accustomed meek- ness, and valued less as a tribute to his genius than as an act of kindness from the king. At the death of William IV, in 1837, Queen Victoria still retained Sir David as painter in ordinary, causing him, im- THE PAINTER OF DAILY LIFE. 229 mediately after her accession, to paint the historical subject of her " First Council," together with her portrait. Sir David's more extended business in portraiture, after his official appointment, did not abate his enthusiasm for his more exalted though less remunerative branch of his art. He painted a splendid and colossal picture of the " Finding of Tippoo Saib," and made studies for a companion picture to Knox preaching, intended to represent the great reformer administering the first sacrament at Calder House — a subject which he did not live to complete, but which was purchased in its un- finished state, at the sale of his works, after his death, by the Koyal Scottish Academy, for i?189. Sir David, accompanied by Mr William "Wood- burn, departed rather suddenly for the East, on the 15th of August, 1840. He revisited Holland, examining with renewed interest the works of her masters, and looking with varied feelings upon the house of Kembrandt at Amsterdam, and the splen- did improvements which were displayed in the schools of art at Munich, through the judicious patronage of the King of Bavaria. On the 4th October he landed at Constantinople, where every- thing contrasted so strongly with home, or any other European city he had visited, that it reminded him forcibly of its Asiatic origin and Moslem domination. During his stay at Constantinople, Sir David 230 DAVID WILE IE painted a portrait of the Sultan, a lad of eighteen years of age, and made many interesting studies of Eastern characters and costume. On the 13th January, 1841, he left the Turkish capital, visiting Smyrna, Beyrout, and other interesting localities, at last reaching Jerusalem, the city of his dreams, on the 27th February. Wilkie's feelings, both as a Christian and ar- tist, were heightened to enthusiasm, as he trod the scenes so familiar to sacred and profane history — ■ the scenes of the world's brightness and its gloom ; of the Saviour's ministrations of love and charity ; and of Roman carnage and cruelty. Here his pen- cil was actively employed, and his pen plied busily, as a relaxation from his ordinary labour. He visited the Dea Sea, and satisfied himself, by ob- servation, of the truth of Mr Harvey's discovery, that its comparative elevation was several hundred feet below that of the Mediterranean. The scenes mentioned in the New Testament possessed most interest for him ; and it was remembered after his death, that he had shown a friend his Bible when asked what guide-book he used. On the 7th of April he started for Jaffa, whence he embarked in a steamer for Damietta, and thence proceeded to Alexandria. Whilst sojourning in this city, he painted a portrait of the Pacha of Egypt, examined Pompey's Pillar, and visited whatever could interest him, either relics of ancient THE PAINTER OF DAILY LIFE. 23 t times, or the improvements that Mehemet Ali was introducing amongst his people. At Alex- andria he went on board the Oriental steamship, apparently very weakly in health, and proceeded to Malta, on his homeward voyage. Whilst at this island, he imprudently partook of iced lemonade and fruit. Medicine seemed to give him instant relief; but when Mr Getty, the surgeon of the Oriental, went to pay him his usual visit, on the morning of the 1st of June, he found Sir David talking incoherently, and at eleven o'clock A.M. of that day Britain's greatest painter had breathed his last. His body sleeps beneath the surges of the Medi- terranean, far from the land of his fathers and the graves of his kindred. The announcement of his death was received as a public calamity in Eng- land ; and few now living can forget the sorrow which that event caused amongst all classes of the community. With the people he was especially beloved ; for his pencil had exhibited their pas- times, their sorrows, and their pride ; and had con- duced, with the pen of Scott, to teach the world that there was something nobler in human nature than adventitious honours. A monument to his memory is erected in the inner hall of the National Gallery ; but the highest tribute to his memory is the universal love which his friends, country, and the world yet bear his name. JOHN POUNDS AND HIS BAGGED SCHOLAKS, OR THE COBBLER'S EXPERIMENT. There is occasionally a print to be seen in the windows of booksellers, which, we venture to say, tells a more instructive tale, and will continue to possess a greater interest in the eyes of all who love their kind, than any of the most costly pictures ever painted in Italy. Yet it is but a homely if not a vulgar thing, representing a poor cobbler sit- ting in a bare room mending shoes, and surrounded by a number of squalid and ragged urchins, male and female, reading books and pencilling on slates. It requires but a glance to see that the cobbler is the master spirit of this strange camp of young out- casts, and that he is actuated by motives and feelings not always found in the face of a paid dominie — the expression of his rugged countenance being that of kindliness, enlivened by a smile of grotesque humour, as if he were in the act of telling them some queer story to please and reconcile them to their tasks. There is no tawse or strap, where leather is the staple of the place, no chair of au- thority, nor any corresponding fear of punishment or rigid constraint in the pupils, who seem as cheer- ful as the starling perched in a cage on the wall — JOHN POUNDS AND HIS BAGGED SCHOLARS. 233 not the least successful or least noisy pupil of them all — taught as it has been by the same master. The cobbler in the picture is John Pounds, who was born at Portsmouth on the 17th June, 1 766. His father was by trade a sawyer, employed in the Eoyal Dock Yard, who was enabled to get his son, when twelve years of age, entered in the same yard as an apprentice shipwright. After having served three years, he met with a serious accident which altered the future course of his life. He fell into a dry dock, whereby he got one of his thighs broken, and the limb besides put out of joint, and otherwise received so much injury as to render him ever afterwards a cripple. "When his general health was restored so far as it could be under such a mis- fortune, he might have been re-entered in some humble capacity consistent with the diminished powers of his mained body, and in due time en- titled to a superannuation with a small pension, but some new regulations having at that time been made which were not liked by the workmen, John, by the advice of his master, preferred trying to do what he could for himself in some other, however humble way, and he accordingly placed himself under the instruction of an old shoemaker in the High Street of Portsmouth. In his new capacity John was a sample of regu- larity and industry, but his genius was not for mak- ing shoes, for he never could get beyond the art of 2 G 234 JOHN POUNDS AND HIS RAGGED SCHOLARS, mere mending, or as it is more expressively called, cobbling. His earnings were accordingly so small that for a long time he was unable to maintain himself — and so was obliged to accept the kindness of a relation who accommodated him with a room in his own house. Even when his earnings be- came more adequate to his simple wants, he could not venture on doing more on his own account than becoming the tenant of a small weather-beaten tenement in St Mary Street. There all his future years were spent, and the passers-by became accus- tomed to the sight of the honest cobbler, seated on his stool and surrounded by a number of caged birds — those never-failing because indispensable companions of solitary workmen, and shoemakers in particular. It is not unlikely that John would have re- mained contented with these companions, who, in the absence of children of his own — and his ambi- tion never pointed in that elevated direction — might have been sufficient to exercise his genius for instruction, and satisfy his yearning for " teach- ing the young idea how to shoot." It happened, however, in 1818, that being a single man, as he continued through life to be, his kindliness, poor though he was, induced him to take upon himself the charge of one of the numerous children of his brother, who was a seafaring man. He was the more inclined to this, that the boy was a feeble OK THE COBBLER'S EXPERIMENT. 235 little creature with his feet overlapping each other and turned inwards. He promised to be a greater cripple than his uncle, but John was a man of in- genuity and a great experimenter, notwithstanding of his inability to arrive at the higher stages of his own art, and having seen two iron pattens which an eminent surgeon had supplied to a neighbour- ing boy much in the same condition as his poor nephew, he contrived, by fastening together in some peculiar way the soles of old shoes and books, to imitate the surgeon's device, and by this means he succeeded in effectually curing the boy of his lameness. The grateful child, whom he had saved from a distortion which would have incapacitated him for active life, became the object of his care and affection ever afterwards ; he reared him, when the time came put him as an apprentice to a fash- ionable shoemaker, and they lived in great mutual affection together to the end of his days. But in the midst of his care for the boy, and the instruction which he daily communicated to him, he could not relinquish his older companions the birds. He rather increased their numbers and doubled their lessons, which he varied according to the species and capacity of his feathered scholars, among whom there were jays, starlings, and parrots, all chosen for their natural inclination to receive instruction. These he succeeded so well in domes- ticatiDg that they would play about the room in 236 JOHN POUNDS AND HIS RAGGED SCHOLARS, perfect good fellowship with the cats and guinea pigs that sometimes formed a part of his establish- ment. Passers-by have often seen a canary on the one shoulder and a cat on the other, while others of the tribe showed at once the powers of the peda- gogue and their own aptitude in snatches of song, repetitions of scraps of wit, multitudinous calls, all mingled together, but very intelligible to the mas- ter spirit, who at once ruled them and attended to his proper business. In after years, when his irrepressible bias towards instruction took a turn in the direction of another species of scholars, John kept fewer of this kind of stock : the last of his talking birds was a renowned starling which he pre- sented to the lady of Sir Philip H. Durham, then Port- Admiral, in testimony of his gratitude for her goodness in supplying some of the necessities of his human flock, to be afterwards noticed, and of the Admiral's kindness in getting them entered on board ship. It will thus have been seen that John Pounds had long been a schoolmaster before he bethought himself of being the teacher of his little nephew, when he arrived at about five years of age. He had seen, too, that his feathered disciples got best on in their learning by the help of each other; and the idea was as natural as it was just, that his boy would make greater progress if he had a com- panion. He accordingly finst obtained one, then OR THE COBBLER'S EXPERIMENT. 237 added another and another, till he began to find so much pleasure in the employment, that he re- solved to extend his scheme much farther. We like here to be particular in recording the fact, that the first, properly speaking, " ragged scholar," was the son of a poor woman who went about selling puddings, and whose homeless child, unable to accompany her, was left in the open street, often in the midst of frost and snow, with no other shelter than the overhanging shade of a bay window. This was merely a sample of hundreds no better provided for, who daily haunted that populous dis- trict. They were necessarily poor, and necessarily ignorant; and if it ever happened that, in these times, when beggary showed itself and was recog- nised as a regular order in society, a passer-by deigned a glance at these outcasts, it was only to throw a penny to them ; and the pride of giving it was enough, without any thought of the condition of their minds. It was a favourite idea of the an- cients, derived from the school of Plato, that the soul was truly the man — the body being a mere crust, or case — a view which, though lost sight of in the dark ages, might have been expected to be brought up again on the revival of learning ; yet, up to the time of John Pounds, the cobbler, the idea seems to have been lost sight of, in so far at least as the elevation of the minds of the poor were concerned, while their bodies were consigned to the 238 JOHN POUNDS AND HIS RAGGED SCHOLARS, tender mercies of a poor law. Whether John Pounds thus meditated or not, it is certain he felt for the condition of untutored minds ; and it was this feeling, perhaps only of pity, which sent him out among the beggars of Portsmouth to wile them into his room. Becoming fonder and fonder of his good work, he gradually increased the numbers of these strange scholars, until he came to have more than his room would accommodate. We have an account preserved of this, at that time, most uncommon exhibition. His workshop was about six feet wide and eighteen in length. His cobbler's stool was placed in the middle, where he sat with his last or lapstone on his knee, and his other implements by his side. He plied his work at the same time that he acted the part of a schoolmaster. At one time some would be reading by his side, at another spelling, at another showing their copies, at another writing to his dictation, or getting their sums proved; while all round sat the mass of learners, sometimes amounting to as many as forty, on forms or boxes, or the steps of a small Btair-case in the rear, or, in the want of such con- veniences, on the floor. So small indeed was the place, that the scene, when all were assembled, seemed to an observer from without to be a mere huddled crowd of children's heads ; yet, however confused they might appear to others, John scorned to know where to look for each urchin, and ahvuys OR THE COBBLER'S EXPERIMENT. 239 to be able to maintain a due command over all without parting with his good nature and genial humour. Then, when the weather permitted, he made them take turns of sitting on the threshold of his front door, and on a little form outside, for the benefit of the sun and fresh air. His modes of teaching were chiefly of his own devising; for he had never heard of the German system, either of Pestalozzi or others. For a time his chief difficulty lay in getting books, and he was often reduced to have recourse to handbills, or whatever scattered leaves of old school manuals came in his way. In the absence of any of these, necessity led him to the system of interrogation, whereby he made his pupils explain whatever seemed to him to be useful to be known, and then, in their turn, again they would be set to the bills, leaves, books, or slates, as these came to be unem- ployed, — the whole being necessarily a system of make-shift, with considerable avidity in the children, and unbroken good temper in the master. It is remarkable how, getting them by solicitation, and treating them with kindness, he preserved com- mand, yet it is certain he did. With the very- young, especially, his manner was particularly plea- sant and facetious. He would ask them the names of different parts of the body, make them spell the words, and describe the uses. Thus, taking a child's hand, he would ask, " What is this ? Spell 240 JOHN POUNDS AND HIS RAGGED SCHOLARS, it ;" then, slapping it good humouredly, " What do I do ? Spell it." So with the ear, in the act of pulling it, and in like manner with other things. With the older ones he could be more strict, and even grave, as he found the necessity of subduing. In this way he taught them reading, spelling, writ- ing, and arithmetic, the last exercise going as far as the " rule of three." Owing to the limited extent of his room, he ulti- mately found it necessary to make a selection, and in such cases always preferred, and prided himself in taking, "the little blackguards" and taming them. He has been known to follow some " hope- ful hopeless " to the Town Quay, and hold out to him in his hand, as a bribe, a roasted potato, so as to induce him to come to school. Nor did he limit his teaching to what are called school subjects ; he combined with these the elements of an industrial training. He taught many of the boys to cook their own plain food, and to mend their own shoes ; sent them to Sunday schools to get religious in- struction, and in order to encourage them, and enable them to make a creditable appearance there, procured, with the aid of friends, clothing, which they put on in his house on Sunday morning, and restored to him in the evening. Besides being schoolmaster, he was both doctor and nurse to his little flock, cured their chilblains, healed the cuts and bruises to which poor children are so often ex- o £_• 5=i z e2 OR THE COBBLER'S EXPERIMENT. 241 posed, and, in cases beyond his skill and means, procured for them medical advice. Besides, in their games, he was not only master of the sports, but contriver and maker of their playthings, for, Jack of all trades, he was an adept in bats, balls, cross- bows, and shuttle-cocks. In this way some hundreds of poor children, who might otherwise have become burdens on society, or swelled the calendar of crime, came to be in- debted to John Pounds for all the education they ever received, and which enabled them to fill use- ful and creditable situations in life. Much of this took place without the public attention having been arrested by his unostentatious proceedings, for the independence of his spirit prevented him from seeking the aid of others. But more lately, in consequence of his having applied for and ob- tained for his pupils admission into the Sunday school of High Street chapel, his merits became better known. He soon obtained a better supj)ly of books and slates, and several times the whole of his little flock were invited to a public examina- tion at Chapel school-room, where they were re- galed with tea and plum cake. They were even included in the public dinner on the occasion of her Majesty's coronation; the few of the very young who were excluded being provided for by himself at home — so careful was he that their feelings should not be hurt by the better fortune of their 2h 242 JOHN POUNDS AND HIS RAGGED SCHOLARS, companions. Such success, for which perhaps he never looked, was sufficient for the ambition of this simple-hearted man. It is recorded that a young lady once said to him, " 0, Mr Pounds, I wish you were rich, you would do so much good." The now old man paused a little, and then replied, " Well, I don't know ; if I had been rich, I might perhaps have been much the same as other rich people. This I know, there is not now a happier man in England than John Pounds, and I think it is best as it is." And yet this happy John Pounds did not know and never knew that his name would be a famous one, and connected in all time with the history of a new era in education, and the develop- ment of a duty due by the rich to the poor, which, lip to his time, had been overlooked and selfishly neglected. On Christmas eve of 1839, as was his custom, he carried to a female relative the materials of a plum-pudding, to be made for distribution among the children. On that occasion he declared that he was never happier in his life ; that he had no earthly want unsatisfied, — expressing at the same time, in words quite characteristic of him as a bird- fancier, that when he should be no longer able to support himself by his own industry, and continue to do some good in the world, he might be per- mitted to go off suddenly, " as a bird drops from its perch." A few days afterwards, on the morning of Oil THE COBBLER'S EXPERIMENT. 243 the 1st of January, he went to the house of Edward Carter, Esq., in the High Street, to acknowledge some acts of kindness received from that gentle- man. It happened that he saw there the picture drawn by Mr Sheaf of his school, lately purchased by that gentleman, and he expressed more pleasure at finding his favourite cat holding a prominent place in it, than at any other part of the piece. Perhaps he was more affected by the picture than he wished to acknowledge ; at any rate, he had just received back from Mr Carter a slate which he had exhibited to him, containing the exercise of one of his pupils, named Ashton (standing by his side), for whom he had solicited some aid towards the cure of the little fellow's foot, when he sud- denly fell down. Mr Martel, the surgeon, who only a little time before had congratulated him on his apparent good health, was immediately called ; but John Pounds was dead. He had indeed died " as a bird drops from its perch." Meantime, at home, about thirty of the children had assembled, wondering win at had become of their beloved tutor. " Here comes Ashton," cried some one of them ; " Mr Pounds will be here soon." "Ah!" cried the little fellow, as he came up, "Mr Pounds is dead." The words struck dismay, and reached the ear of the nephew in the upper room. He hastened down, saw the dead body of his uncle carried in, and immediately fainted; nor was it till 244 JOHN POUNDS AND HIS RAGGED SCHOLARS, after some time that he became fully sensible of the great loss he had sustained, as he looked on that fixed and placid countenance which had so often been lighted up by love for his adopted son, and cheerfulness to all. The abode of contented and peaceful frugality had become, on a sudden, a scene of desolation. The two had made provision that day for what was to them a luxurious repast. On the little mantel-piece remained the envied mug, full of sprats, on which they were to have regaled themselves in honour of the new year. The chil- dren were overwhelmed ; some of them came to the door next day, and cried bitterly because they could not be admitted; and for several succeeding days the younger ones, two and three together, came and looked about the room, when, not finding their instructor, friend, and companion, they went away, sobbing and disconsolate. His remains were interred, on the afternoon of Saturday, the 3d of January, 1839, in the burying- ground of High Street Chapel, by the Rev. Henry Hawkes, B.A. It was felt to be a solemn occasion. The clergyman impressively called on the nume- rous assemblage, as they stood around the grave, with the pupils in the midst of them, to cherish the memory and imitate the example of this good man, by doing good according to their ability. On the following evening he delivered a funeral sermon from Matt. vi. 3, 4: — "When thou doest thine alms, OR THE COBBLER'S EXPERIMENT. 245 let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth, that thine alms may be in secret, and thy father, who seeth in secret, will reward thee openly." A small marble tablet to his memory has been erected on the wall of High Street Chapel, where of late years he had mostly attended, with this in- scription : — ERECTED BY FRIENDS, AS A MEMORIAL OF THEIR ESTEEM AND RESPECT FOR JOHN POUNDS ; WHO, WHILE EARNING HIS LIVELIHOOD BY MENDING SHOES, GRATUITOUSLY EDUCATED, AND IN PART CLOTHED AND FED, SOME HUNDREDS OF POOR CHILDREN. HE DIED SUDDENLY ON THE 1ST OF JANUARY, 1839, AGED LXXII YEARS. " THOU SHALT BE BLESSED : FOR THEY CANNOT RECOMPENSE THEE." Such was the end of the inventor of ragged schools. " It is rather curious," says Dr Guthrie, " at least it is interesting to me (I don't know that it may be to others), that it was by a picture I was at first led to take an interest in ragged schools — by a pic- ture in an old, obscure, decaying burgh that stands on the shores of the Firth of Forth. I had gone thither with a companion on a pilgrimage ; not that there was any beauty about the place, for it 24G JOHN POUNDS AND HIS RAGGED SCHOLARS, has no beauty. It has little trade. Its deserted harbour, and silent streets, and old houses, some of them nodding to their fall, bore all the marks of decay. But one circumstance has redeemed it from obscurity, and will preserve its name to the latest ages — it was the birth-place of Thomas Chalmers. I went to see this place many years ago, and going into an inn for refreshment, I found the room covered with pictures of shepherdesses with their crooks, and sailors in holiday attire, not particularly inte- resting. But above the chimney-piece there stood a large print, more respectable than its neighbours, which some skipper, — the captain of one of the few ships which now trade between that once busy port and England, — had probably brought to the town. It represented a cobbler's room. The cobbler was there himself, spectacles on nose, an old shoe be- tween his knees, that massive forehead and firm mouth indicating great determination of character ; and from beneath his bushy eyebrows benevolence gleamed out on a number of poor ragged boys and girls who stood at their lessons around the busy cobbler. My curiosity was awakened, and in the inscription I read how this man, John Pounds, a cobbler in Portsmouth, taking pity on the multi- tude of poor ragged children left by ministers and magistrates, and ladies and gentlemen, to go to ruin on the streets, — how, like a good shepherd, he gathered in these wretched, outcasts, — how he had OR THE COBBLER'S EXPERIMENT. 247 trained them to God and to the world, — and how, while earning his daily bread by the sweat of his brow, he had rescued from misery, and saved to society, not less than 500 of these children. I felt ashamed of myself. I felt reproved for the little I had done. My feelings were touched. I was asto- nished at this man's achievements ; and I well re- member, in the enthusiasm of the moment, saying to my companion, — and I have seen in my calmer and cooler moments no reason for unsaying the say- ing, — ' That man's an honour to humanity, and de- serves the tallest monument ever raised within the shores of Britain.' I took up that man's history, for I found it afterwards animated by the spirit of Him who had 'compassion on the multitude.' John Pounds was a clever man besides, and, like Paul, if he could not win a poor boy any other way, he won him by guile. He would be seen chasing a ragged boy along the quays, and compelling him to come to school, not by the power of a policeman, but by the power of a potato. When the day comes when ho- nour will be done to whom honour is due, I can fancy the crowd of those whose fame poets have sung, and to whose memory monuments have been raised, di- viding like a wave, and passing the great, and the noble, and the mighty of the land, this poor, ob- scure old man stepping forward and receiving the especial notice of Him who said, 'Inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least of these, ye did it also to me.' " WILLIAM KNIBB THE FRIEND OF THE SLAVE. The subject of the present sketch was bom at Kettering, in Northamptonshire, in the year 1803, of parents in the middle class of society, and who, it appears, from the character they bore, were par- ticularly anxious for the welfare of their children. The early education of Knibb was obtained in a free school of a superior order in Kettering. While there, which was for the space of three years, Knibb was not remarkable for his attainments, ex- cepting in arithmetic ; but he conducted himself with a degree of propriety and amiability which ensured him general esteem and respect. When his education was completed, he was apprenticed to a Mr Fuller, of Bristol, a printer and booksel- ler by trade, with whom his brother Thomas was residing in the same capacity. Here, we believe, while furnishing reports of missionary societies and the like, was first engendered an ardent desire to engage in the missionary enterprise. Thomas, his brother, was also bent upon the same pursuit. "One day," says Mr Fuller, their master, "on some allusion being made to the native preachers, Thomas burst into tears. On inquiring into the causo, I found he was greatly afraid that, as native WILLIAM KNIBB 249 preachers were rising up so rapidly, by the time he should he old enough to go, European missionaries would not be required. Some time after, they were heard earnestly conversing on the same subject, Thomas, as usual, indulging his apprehensions; William, however, was a stranger to such feelings — ■ he always hoped. " Never mind, Thomas," said he, " the Society cannot do without printers, and I am sure Mr Fuller will recommend us, and then we can preach too if we like." In the year 1822, Thomas, under the direction of the Baptist Missionary Society, left England for Jamaica, to superintend a free school which was then being established in Kingston, over which he continued to preside until his death, which took place on the 15th of April, 1823, after an illness of only three days. When the intelligence of his brother's decease was communicated to William by Mr Fuller, his feelings were strongly excited ; but immediately after the first burst of feeling had subsided, he rose from table and said, " Then, if the Society will have me, I will go and take his place !" This eventually led to his engaging in his favourite work, the evangelisation of the heathen. Love being the ruling principle of William Knibb's soul, it called into exercise other faculties most essential to his success. He must be regarded as not only the property of the Baptist Missionary 21 250 WILLIAM KNIBB Society, but as the property of the world. His was a character admirably constituted to enrich the church and adorn the world. In him we behold a generous benevolence, a determinate perseverance, an unflinching firmness. The fire of holy love once a-blaze in his breast, it continued to burn and to emit the most genial rays on and about his path. He sought with anxious earnestness to elevate his race, and for them he determined to " spend and be spent." His was not so much the labour for display as effect. He was not like the tipsy spray, throwing about in the face of heaven its silvery element, and dazzling the beholder by its peculiar brilliancy, but the mountain wave, rushing across the trackless main in the face of every obstacle, and leaving behind it marks of its amazing power. The purpose for which Knibb went to Jamaica was, as already stated, to occupy the station ren- dered vacant by his brother's decease ; but after a comparatively short period had elapsed he was inducted into the pastoral office, in which capacity he expended a degree of ability and energy almost incredible, arid which was productive of immense good ; in short, his anti-slavery labours and the duties of the pastoral office combined could not have been performed by any one short of a spiritual Hercules. The object he had in view, either as a teacher or a preacher, was emphatically to spiritu- alise the world. In him there was a full embodi- THE FRIEND OF THE SLAVE. 251 ment of the idea, " All men are brethren." Directly he set foot upon the oppressed island he became the friend of the slave, and not a friend passive only, but also a friend active ; his judgment indig- nantly denounced the accursed system, whose over- throw he afterwards consummated, and the bowels of his compassion yearned over the subjects of its yoke. His pen and his voice became the outlets to his feeling, and in a little time he was endeared to and valued by the slave, and, as a natural conse- quence, hated and persecuted by his oppressor. It now became his object to teach the slave his own value, and to teach the world the first letter in the alphabet of our humanity ; he knew that to advance his heavenly mission he must engage himself in an earthly one ; and although the spirit of the times was decidedly averse to missionaries becoming prac- tical politicians, he soon found, as a citizen of the world and a soldier of the Cross, that an interference with the civil regulations of the slave was to lay a foundation on which he might with safety build a spiritual temple on which to inscribe " Holiness to the Lord." On the 15th of April, 1831, Mr Fowell Buxton brought forward, in the House of Commons, a motion relating to British colonial slavery. Upon this occasion his Majesty's Ministers, although not accepting the terms of Mr Buxton's motion, an- nounced their fixed determination to take up the 252 WILLIAM KNIBB subject of it, and to redeem the pledges which had been given by the Cabinet and Parliament in 1823. As soon as this became known to the Jamaica planters, a degree of excitement was produced, both amongst the planters and the slaves them- selves, which was followed by the insurrection known at the period as the reign of terror in Jamaica. Knibb and his coadjutors were seized, incarcerated, and ignominiously treated by the legislative powers ; they were dragged about from place to place, under the surveillance of despotic and bloodthirsty authorities, and taunted and buf- feted without limitation or degree. The chapels belonging to the Baptist and other denominations were razed to the ground by the infuriated whites, whose traffic in human gore had made them so opulent and important, that, rather than abolish it or conduct it on less inhuman terms, they would allow themselves to become frantic with rage and excitement, and attempt the lives of those who wished for a better state of things, and, if neces- sary, bury Jamaica itself in its own ruins. And why were Knibb and his coadjutors more especially seized, and made the subjects of their wrath ? — the reader may ask. This brings us to a point on which we can dwell with the utmost satisfaction. The reason the Baptists were made to suffer was because they were honest men, and would not blink their sentiments. They knew slavery to be an THE FEIEND OF THE SLAVE. 253 abomination and a curse, and they treated it ac- cordingly. They knew from actual observation that the blood of the negro was crying to heaven, like Abel's, from the very ground on which they trod, and they sought, as men, and in a rational manner, to extirpate the evil. Knibb and his friends were charged with inciting the slaves to rebellion, through prejudicing their minds against a system under which they knew them so long to have groaned; and not only were they publicly persecuted under the sanction of the government of Jamaica, but they had to encounter a private conspiracy, in connection with paid agencies, whose object was either to cause the missionaries to aban- don the island altogether, or to shed their blood in upholding that accursed system from which they had been so long deriving an exorbitant pecuniary return. On one occasion, Knibb's biographer as- serts, " a number of persons, amounting to about fifty, approached the house, hallooing, hooting, and throwing stones. His friends opened the window, and Knibb, being awake, said, 'Who is there?' The only answer to this was a volley of stones, some of which entered the apartment. His friends said, 'What are we to do if they come? If we cry murder, we are afraid nobody will come.' He said, ' Cry fire !' They rejoined, ' Where are we to say it is?' He replied, « Tell them it is in hell for those who tar and feather persons.' " On the cry 254 WILLIAM KNIBB of fire the valorous company ran away. This pro- cess was repeated three successive nights. The result of such hitter and continuous persecution was that, from circumstances over which man had no control, he was permitted to leave the island and return to England, a single incident in con- nection with which we will relate, as it so distinctly conveys Knibb's hatred of slavery and his settled determination to exert himself for its downfall : — On the pilots coming on board in the English Channel, his first question was, " "Well, pilot, what news ?" " The Reform Bill has passed." " Thank God," he rejoined, " now I'll have slavery down. I will never let it rest day or night until I have de- stroyed it root and branch." His presenting him- self in England was not one of the most pleasurable positions in which an individual could be placed. His determination was to destroy slavery, "root and branch," and that was to be done while he remained a sojourner on British soil. He had first to convince the public of the evil of slavery, and then he had to turn the tide of opinion at the foun- tainhead of power, the British senate. The popularity of Knibb reached to the entire extent of his indefatigable labours. In one of his speeches he said, " I call upon you by all the tender sympathies of your nature — by your patriot- ism, by your justice, your humanity, and your religion — to unite in a great and holy bond, and THE FRIEND OF THE SLAVE. 2o5 never desist till the West Indian slave shall stand forth as free and as unshackled as yourselves. I call on children to join in their efforts to relieve from bondage the children of another land. I call on fathers and husbands to unite in the sacred cause, and free the slave from the heart-rending separation of husband and wife, parent and child. I call, above all, on ministers of the Gospel to mingle the cause of the oppressed African with the duties of their holy calling, and in the pulpit, as in private, to lift up their voices to God that this abomination may be washed from the face of the earth, and that freedom may without delay be ex- tended to all." The efforts of Knibb for the extinction of slavery were vigorously pursued ; and wherever he pushed forward the wheels of the anti-slavery chariot, there were thousands who had humanity enough within their breasts ready to give him a cordial and an enthusiastic reception. At length peace having been restored to Jamaica, and loving as he did his flock even more than his own life, he re- turned to the scene of his former labours on the 28th of August, 1834, having left behind him a name destined to be held in everlasting remem- brance. We scarcely need inform the reader of the reception his people and friends gave him on his presenting himself a second time amongst them. In a letter addressed to the Secretary of the Baptist ^Missionary Society, we find the following amusing 256 WILLIAM KNIBB description of his arrival : — " The people saw me as I stood on the deck of the boat. As I neared the shore, I waved my hand, when they, being fully as- sured that it was their minister, ran from every part of the bay to the wharf. Some pushed off in a canoe, into which I got, with my family, and soon landed on the beach. "We were nearly pushed into the sea by kindness. Poor Mrs K. was quite overcome. They took me up in their arms, they sang, they laughed, they wept, and I wept too. ' Him come — ■ him come for true ! Who da come for we king — king Knibb ! Him fight de battle, him win de crown ! ' On they rushed to the chapel, where we knelt together at the throne of mercy." Four years after this period, the total abolition of slavery was announced. The 1st of August, 1838, "was a day of unparalleled rejoicing in the British West Indies," and Jamaica nobly took the lead. With more than his usual energy, Knibb took part in the proceedings. In his chapel he convened an immense assembly, who engaged in devotional exercises until the period of their liberation came. This was a moment of the most intense excitement, and beautiful does the picture look, of Britannia taking the sledge-hammer of justice, and breaking asunder the negro's iniquitous and soul-galling chain. Sublime is the thought, that in that one act the strong "crying and tears," the wounded bodies, and the wounded souls of thousands of the Sons and the daughters of Adam were taken into THE FRIEND OF THE SLAVE. 257 the embraces of the foster-mother of earth. A few minutes before the clock struck twelve, on that memorable occasion, the audible voices engaged in supplicating the Divine blessing were hushed in the anticipation of its striking. Knibb took ad- vantage of the silence, and, stationing himself be- fore the clock, he said, with magic emphasis, " The hour is at hand — the monster is dying." The first note then struck gratefully upon the ear of the assembled multitude, when he further said, " The clock is striking ;" and, having waited for the final stroke, he exclaimed, " The monster is dead." The aspect in which we are called on to view this ambassador of truth is not on some giddy ele- vation, where rare gifts and extraordinary endow- ments had placed him — not as the statesman, whose sagacity and influence had made the world to acknowledge his power — not as the poet, whose voice had echoed through the earth's wide range, and to which the sons and the daughters of song had sent up a response ; but as the Christian orator — the unflinching advocate of the rights of man — and the generous self-denying missionary, who, in the one case, is worthy to be ranked with a Clarkson or a Wilberforce, and, in the other, to take his place by the side of the most intrepid missionary that ever spake of a Saviour's love to uncivilised men. To be enabled to accomplish such things in a comparatively short period, would redound no little 2k 258 WILLIAM KNIBB. to the credit of any individual, however many might have been his privileges, and however numerous his endowments ; and England so concluded when Knibb stood forth and smote with a giant hand the evils which he sought with" so much energy to annihilate. Yes ! England had a wreath to place upon the conqueror's brow ; and when Knibb last visited his native land, he wore it with a meekness and a humility which rendered its beauty more apparent, and the justice of its position more evi- dent. What he had accomplished was done for no particular body, but for all who had any sympathy with one who had sacrificed all his interests, and even life itself, in the cause of humanity. Posthu- mous fame is now giving him, as far as we can ap- preciate his labours, that praise which he deserves. But here he sought no recompense, and now we plant the flowers of sympathy and admiration upon his grave. William Knibb died at Lucea in 1845. The hour of his death cast a gloom over the whole region. It is estimated that nearly 8000 people were present on the occasion of his interment. Persons of all classes joined the mournful proces- sion ; and the cry of lamentation that was raised afforded a convincing proof of the estimation in which the deceased was held even by those who had been strongly opposed to his political move- ments. GEORGE BIRKBECK AND THE ORIGIN OF MECHANICS' INSTITUTIONS. George Birkbeck was the son of a merchant and banker at Settle, in Yorkshire, where he was born on 10th January, 1776. The rudiments of his education were only such as could be supplied by a small village school. "While still very young he had made up his mind, unaided by any one, to devote his life to medical pursuits ; and under this determination he went to Leeds, where he studied for some time, showing much application, and a craving desire for knowledge. From Leeds he repaired to Edinburgh, where he remained for only one session, attending the college, and laying the foundation of those studies which he afterwards prosecuted with great earnestness. It is not very well ascertained what induced him to leave the Edinburgh College after so short a residence, and where he was making great progress. The school was at that time a very famous one, having among its distinguished teachers the celebrated Gregory, and it is known that young Birkbeck's talents had begun to attract the attention of the professors. It is probable that he was attracted by the reputa- tion of the famous Dr Baillie, of London, and being very young, with much of the versatility of genius, he resolved upon putting himself under the charge 260 GEOKGE BIRKBECK AND THE of that physician, whose practice in the metropolis was corresponding to his reputation. He had scarcely, however, been a year with his new instructor when he resolved upon returning to Edinburgh, where lively recollections were enter- tained of him. He resumed his courses accordingly under his former masters, and made such distin- guished progress, that he very soon earned the friendship of Horner, Smith, Brougham, and Jeffrey. Besides his professional studies, he followed with great ardour different branches of natural philo- sophy, and made such progress as to call forth the admiration of his teachers and fellow-students. Having finished his medical courses, he took a diploma, being then scarcely twenty-three years of age, and probably without having made up his mind where to settle, or what course to pursue. About that time the chair of Natural Philosophy in the Andersonian College of Glasgow having become vacant, his friends, who considered him even at that early age competent for the duties, advised him to offer himself as a candidate, and such was the force of the testimonials he was enabled to present, that he almost at once got the appointment. Very few professors at such an age have ever occupied chairs in Scotland, where the inclinations or prejudices of the electors point generally to experience and maturity. We are now to mention a curious instance of the all but fortuitous manner in which original ideas arise in OEIGIN OF MECHANICS' INSTITUTIONS. 261 the minds of ingenious men. Dr Birkbeck had been about a year in Glasgow, and was therefore only twenty-four years of age, when his attention was turned to the subject in which he afterwards took so deep an interest. It happened that, in the pur- suit of his philosophical experiments, requiring new instruments, some of them of his own inven- tion, he found a difficulty in getting these properly made, and was necessitated to have recourse to common mechanics, who executed the several parts under his direction, and often without knowing the nature of the experiment their handiwork was intended to serve. He saw that many of those mechanics were gifted with excellent natural parts, and showed great ingenuity in their work, and he naturally felt sympathy for their want of an educa- tion which would have imparted to them an interest in their labours, besides being of great value in enabling them to perform their work on some known principle. Doubtless many professors had formerly thought in the same way, and acted after the same manner, but it never occurred to any of them that some scheme might and ought to be had recourse to for supplying a very evident deficiency. Now, at this time, while surrounded by a number of these workmen, to whom he was endeavouring to explain the construction of an instrument, it occurred to Dr Birkbeck that it would be of excellent advantage to deliver a course of lectures to those men who in their everyday labours were applying 262 GEORGE BIRKBECK AND THE practically mechanical principles of which they were totally ignorant. This idea, so simply and naturally originated, grew upon him, till, at the close of the same year, the young professor advertised a class " solely," as he said in the prospectus, " for persons engaged in the exercise of the mechanical arts, men whose education in early life has precluded even the possi- bility of acquiring the smallest amount of scientific knowledge." His plan proved altogether success- ful : as the course proceeded the attendance in- creased, till the lecture-room was filled to over- flowing, and he was compelled to limit the number of tickets. These lectures he continued till the termination of his professorship in 1804. His grateful pupils presented him with a silver cup at the termination of his first course, nor did they forget their generous benefactor, as we shall after- wards see. This idea, thus successfully realized, did not cer- tainly comprehend formally what was subsequently called a mechanics' institution, and it is exceedingly probable that neither at that time nor for nearly twenty years afterwards did the lecturer to me- chanics entertain a distinct notion of the higher scheme. Nor did the mere lecturing seem to spread in any proportion approaching the success of the first experiment, if indeed there were any examples of similar courses worth mentioning, either in Scot- land or England. This circumstance is the more ORIGIN OF MECHANICS' INSTITUTIONS. 263 remarkable, that long before the original idea be- gan to bear fruits, Lord Brougham and Lord John Russell were engaged in their peculiar schemes for improving the people by means of education ; nor is it possible to account for this oversight of so very useful a project as Dr Birkbeck's, except by supposing, what indeed often happens, that an in- tense view of one object has a tendency to exclude the recognition of another, not only of a cognate kind, but placed alongside of it. The first instance we have of the practical effect of the Glasgow example was in the institution of the School of Arts in Edinburgh, in the year 1821, the object of which was the instruction of mechanics in the scientific department of their respective arts. At the close of that year the idea was suggested in the " Leeds Mercury" of opening a Library for the use of mechanics in that town — a limited step, which alone was thought practicable at that time. Meanwhile Dr Birkbeck had settled as a physi- cian in London, where his great abilities very soon secured for him an extensive practice, by which he realised a fortune. It would seem that his old favourite subject never left his mind, and, strangely enough, he was engaged in writing an essay on the scientific education of the working classes, when he was surprised by an article which appeared in the "Mechanics' Magazine" of 11th October 1823, intituled, " Proposals for a London Mechanics' Institution." Dr Birkbeck immediately 2G4 GEORGE BIBKBECK AND THE sent a communication to the patrons, offering all the assistance in his power, and in less than a month a meeting was held, at which he presided, and which was attended by Jeremy Bentham, Sir David Wilkie, and William Cobbett, when it was resolved to go on with the scheme. Great encour- agement was afforded by Henry Brougham, Dr Birkbeck's early friend and college companion, who had taken an active part in the preliminary arrange- ments. The Doctor himself, however, was really the prime mover. To expedite the scheme he lent at once .£3700 for the building of a lecture-room, and, having been elected president, he delivered the opening address on 24th February, 1824. This philanthropic scheme fitted in so well with the requirements of the time that the London insti- tution became a pattern. Leeds bears the merit of being the first follower, and by and by, as is well known, these establishments spread rapidly over Great Britain. It is worthy of remark, however, that so far, it may be said, there was a miscal- culation on the part of the early promoters ; they took for granted a stronger inclination among the men themselves to take advantage of the privilege than was actually afterwards found to exist ; so true is it that Nature still maintains her proportions and differences of intellect, bias, and temperament, with such firmness as often to frustrate the efforts of philanthropy. These institutions fell somewhat into popular disfavour from the circumstance that the OEIGIN OF MECHANICS' INSTITUTIONS. 265 students were few and apathetic. They have re- vived in these days, but this effect is greatly owing to the most of them having followed the example of an innovation originated in Leeds, whereby literary subjects have been added to the courses, and books of all kinds placed in the libraries. Another great improvement has contributed to the success which has been attained — the introduction of the principle of confederation, whereby the insti- tutions enter into a union for the purpose of the employment of paid lecturers, who visit them by turns. This improvement is also due to Leeds. It remains to be mentioned that the Glasgow mechanics were not forgetful of their old patron. In 1823 they placed his portrait in the institution they had succeeded in founding. From many other quarters Dr Birkbeck received ample meeds of re- ward, and he continued till his death, in 1841, to take a deep interest in the success of those institu- tions in the establishment of which he had so assiduously laboured. He was highly esteemed by the most distinguished men of his day, not only for his scientific attainments, but for his private virtues and general philanthropy ; and as an evi- dence of the gratitude of those for whose advance- ment he had done so much, his funeral was attended by large numbers of mechanics. 2 L EDWARD BAINES THE SUCCESSFUL PRINTER. Edward Baines was the son of Richard Baines, a grocer, and afterwards a mill-spinner, in Preston, and was born on the 5th of February, 1774, at Walton-le-dale, a village in the valley of the Ribble, about a mile from Preston. When very young he was sent to live with a maternal uncle near Hawkshead, where he resided till he was eight years old, and where, from some boyish peculiarities, he became the subject of an oracular saying of his teacher, that " he would either be a great man or lie hanged." This prediction, which was verified in the first of the alternatives, was no doubt suggested by Edward's love of mirth and mischief, joined with great quickness of perception and an indomi- table will. At the Preston Academy, to which he was subsequently sent, he signalised himself more by being the ringleader of a rebellion against a pompous and ill-educated master than by his pro- gress in learning. A good, if not a laughable example of this is afforded by his having headed one of those juvenile insurrections called "barring- out." The scholars having assembled in the school- room, proceeded to fasten up the doors with huge nails, which they collected for the purpose. There EDWARD BAINES. 267 was no ingress for the pompous dominie, but one of the younger lads was let out to bring provender to the garrison, which had predetermined to hold out as long as they could procure food. The scheme was, under Edward, so well worked, that they de- fended themselves for two or three days against all efforts on the part of the enraged dictator to obtain entry. At length the Mayor, Town-Clerk, and officers were sent for, to intimidate the offenders, but even now the besieged acted upon high prin- ciples of war : they imposed, through young Baines, conditions of surrender, which were no other than a full pardon, and, in addition, a certain number of holidays. The Mayor, on the other hand, was in- flexible, and having given them until the evening to consider, the rogues seized the opportunity, and fled to the woods of Penwortham, regaining their homes under cover of night, and, by some kindly interposition, escaping punishment. Connected with his youthful adventures, though greatly in advance of his practical joking, which was soon renounced, is the story of his projected emigration. A number of the youths fell, as usual, to spouting and speculating, in the course of which they came to know that America was a wonderful field for talent. Was not America, therefore, the fittest place for these wonderful youths ? They, at least, had no doubt on the subject themselves, and so five of them, with Baines leading, forthwith 268 EDWARD BAINES planned the establishment of a learned academy in the United States. The principalship was, of course, conceded to Edward, the others being con- tented with the professional duties of teaching botany, music, and other subjects in the circle of the sciences, for all or any of which they were, of course, qualified. For this purpose one of them could produce sixteen shillings, another fifteen, and the three others sums of a smaller amount. All preliminaries adjusted, they set forth for Liverpool one Sunday morning, and returned on the Friday following, not without loss to a tempting bean-field by the way, in which the professors supplied them- selves with a diet when the last penny of their capital had been spent. Sneaking quietly into their several homes, they found themselves much wiser, by a hard-won lesson of humility. Having chosen the occupation of a printer, Edward was apprenticed to Mr Thomas Walker of Preston. He was now sixteen years of age, and he remained with Mr Walker till he was twenty-one. A few years after his entry his master began a Liberal newspaper, called the " Preston Review." A paper with Liberal principles was in 1793 a perilous adventure, and whether Edward Baines had already begun to infuse into this small print his notions of progress, it is certain that it produced an echo louder than was consistent with the wishes of the proprietor, for the populace, taking him for THE SUCCESSFUL PRINTER. 269 a Jacobin, placed a cannon opposite his shop, and iired it off with so good an effect that the reverbe- ration broke his windows. The paper was discon- tinued, 'but not Edward's views of social develop- ment, for by and by, and with two of the years of his apprenticeship still to run, we find him located as printer in the office of the " Leeds Mercury," a paper known as an advocate of the same principles. In his new office Edward very soon began to display those peculiar qualities which subsequently made him the man he became. He had a cheerful buoyant spirit, with frank and open manners, and these recommendations, joined to those of a hand- some person, and an engaging countenance, made him a favourite ; but there were deeper qualities in the act of arriving at maturity : he was already a prudent and careful thinker, always anxious to sa- tisfy himself by his own enquiries, and when at last convinced, ready to stand by his convictions against all "odds. Young as he was, he had already arrived at a maturity of thought and a strength of convic- tion generally the result of an advanced life. Ac- cordingly he soon won the esteem and confidence- of his employers, Messrs Binns & Brown, who valued him as one who wrought up to a maxim which he often quoted, that " whatever is worth doing is worth doing well." In remarkable con- trast to his early habits of rollicking, he lived quietly, and practised a severe economy, husbanding 270 EDWARD BAINES as much as he could the fruits of his industry, cul- tivating simple tastes, and habits strictly temperate, and choosing prudent and virtuous companions. Such was Edward Baines when yet he had scarcely finished his seven years' apprenticeship. It has been said that the great change wrought upon him was effected through an early admiration of Benjamin Franklin, who, having married a lady belonging to Preston, became in some degree connected with that town, and formed the subject of much conver- sation among the citizens. It is certain, at least, that whatever resemblance may be traced between the two men, Edward Baines was subsequently honoured by being called the Franklin of Leeds. It was in September 1797 that he began business on his own account. He had saved a small sum from his earnings ; in addition he got a loan of dfPlOO from his father, and he had scarcely com- menced the world when he married Miss Charlotte Talbot, the daughter of Mr Matthew Talbot of Leeds, known for his laborious analysis of the Bible. This excellent woman was to prove the supreme comfort of his life. He now took a house with an adjoining printing office, subjected his domestic establishment to a rigid economy approved of by his wife, and proceeded to publish books. The first great secret of his success was his resolution to create no artificial wants, limiting his drink to water, abjuring smoking and snuffing, and avoid- THE SUCCESSFUL PKINTER. 271 ing both tavern and theatre. Yet even at this early period his desire to benefit mankind appeared in due proportion to his self-denial. The Bene- volent Strangers' Friend Society was an object of great solicitude with him, and he felt the yearnings of public spirit at the same time that his domestic comforts and the pleasures of industry rendered him cheerful and happy. The remark of a vener- able neighbour was not without its meaning — " Thou seest an example in my neighbour Edward." There was thus a good foundation and an ex- cellent beginning, but the turning-point in Mr Baines' life was his purchase, in 1801, of the " Leeds Mercury," one of the oldest provincial newspapers in England, having been originally established in 1718 by John Hirst. When Mr Baines purchased this print, it had come down to the low ebb of 800 copies, nor need we wonder when we know the character of the country papers at that time. No editor would venture an original article on public affairs, and their comments, confined to their dis- trict, were so sparingly administered, and with such cautious timidity, that they were absolutely of no account. A London paper, a pot of paste, and a pair of scissors, supplied almost the whole materials. In addition to all this, in the case of the " Mercury," it made an effort to be neutral even in the applica- tion of the paste and scissors, while the " Leeds Intelligencer," with which it competed, was a 272 EDWARD BAINES thorough-going advocate of things as they were. It was this position of the Leeds press that brought round Mr Baines the friends who enabled him to make the purchase at the price of «£ ) 1500 ; but he submitted himself, as the proprietor and editor, to no dictation, for he knew he had principles to announce and work out, regardless of individual criticism, and without fear and without favour. In many respects the new editor of the " Mer- cury " was entitled to be called the provincial Walter. His courage was not less, and though he had a narrower field, he had scarcely less extended views of public benefit. His only partizanship was that which sided with the good of the people of England, and like his London contemporary, it seemed as if all his views had been formed and laid up in his mind from an intuitive discernment of the changes that were to take place in society. To give scope for his opinions, he introduced the in- dispensable " leader," and he was the first Yorkshire editor who sent a reporter to the Assizes. It has been remarked of him that his style of writing, any more than his views and sentiments, never showed any process of development. The plain and somewhat smooth diction of his first sentence in his first number was the same as the last he wrote ; nor was he ever known to change a view after it was committed to his columns — a fact the more remarkable that it was impossible to call him THE SUCCESSFUL PRINTER. 273 a dogmatist, for he made at once so nice a selection between paradox and common-place that he arrived at a judicious moderation, which seldom failed to recommend acceptance. Not that he took always a mean between extremes ; on the contrary, he approached so close to either that he was accused by one side as being republican, and by the other as an advocate of the high prerogative of Church and King. The ultimate prosperity and happiness of the people was his aim ; and the secret of his suc- cess, as in the case of Walter, lay in his possessing a true English heart, the dictates of which were confirmed by the decisions of his head. The firm opponent of conspiracy, sedition, and violence, he was no less the unflinching and fearless advocate of popular rights and of reform. Not to mention the smaller efforts on behalf of benevolent institutions in his own city, one of his great aims was the education of the community. At that period an extraordinary prejudice still lingered among many who really thought they had the true interests of their country at heart, — that reading and writing would introduce Atheism, heresy, and sedition. The vulgar mind, it was thought, could not carry knowledge without going mad. These were either philosophers or politicians. The first forgot that the wisdom which enabled them to discover these evil effects of knowledge was got by knowledge, and the latter also forgot that ig- 2 m 274 EDWARD BAINES norance, as an enemy to power, is more dangerous than education. We find Mr Baines at an early pe- riod interested in the subject of railways, suggested by Mr Edgeworth's scheme, and which he treated as if he foresaw the immense importance of that kind of transit. But, above all, his mind was continually occupied by his favourite subject of Reform, which he considered as the great lever by means of which many great social improvements would be secured. In all those questions which then engaged and embittered public feeling to an extent now hap- pily unknown, Mr Baines occupied the front rank, regardless of the opinion of friend or foe ; yet he contrived to retain his friends and even to con- ciliate enemies. The secret lay in his continued manly sincerity and extensive humanity, into which he never allowed to enter personal con- siderations, far less passion. The virtues of the man still shone through the public writer or the public speaker, and " the cleanness of his hands" was the evidence of a purity which none dared impeach. It was thus that he became, at the mature age of forty- five, the most influential public writer out of London, while in Leeds itself he was foremost in all philan- thropic institutions and objects. The scheme of Mr Owen was one peculiarly fitted in its earliest premises to interest such a man as Mr Baines, and lie was pressed to test it in 1819 by a personal in- spection of the establishment at New Lanark, but THE SUCCESSFUL PRINTER. 275 in spite of the then concurring laudations, the de- putation under his advice refrained from giving any opinion on this new plan for regenerating society. It was in vain, too, that with all his ardour for the benefit of the working classes, attempts were made to drag him into the theories of short Parliaments and universal suffrage. He would go no further than an extension of the franchise. But perhaps no cause which he espoused stirred his feelings more deeply than that of Queen Caroline, nor did he remit his efforts in her behalf till the bill was withdrawn. Thereafter, and until the great event of the Reform Bill, Mr Baines' energies were occupied with all those great questions which were daily rising up — the founding of infant schools and mechanics' in- stitutions, the formation of railroads, and the aboli- tion of the combination laws. On the accession of William IV. in 1830, it was chiefly through the influence of Mr Baines that Lord Morpeth and Mr (afterwards Lord) Brougham were returned for Yorkshire. Great events were now the order of the day. The anti-slavery agitation, and Mr Oastler's vehement efforts to shorten factory labour, were at their height, when, on the meeting of the new Parliament in November, the nation was roused by the declaration of the Government that no re- form would be conceded. The Reform Bill was prepared, and Mr Baines was singled out by Lord 276 EDWAED BAINES John Russell for his assistance. The Bill passed, and, on the ensuing election, the return of Messrs Marshall and Macaulay for the county, owed greatly its success to the indefatigable zeal of the editor of the " Mercury." But all these labours did not ex- haust the resources of this truly public-spirited man. Since 1806 he had been collecting mate- rials for the history of Lancashire, and in the be- ginning of 1831 appeared the first part. The work, extending to four thick volumes, was not finished till 1836. A glance at the authorities and sources shows the laborious nature of the undertaking; but the success was proportionate, for scarcely since the in- troduction of publications in parts, had the sale — principally limited to the county — been so great. The booksellers and deliverers of Lancashire love to dwell, even at this day, in the recollection of the harvest they reaped from the sale of this single book. This self-made man had now earned a position in society which was to be adequately rewarded by the greatest proof that could be offered of the good-will and confidence of his townsmen. In 1833 he was elected Member of Parliament for Leeds, an honour the greater and the more accept- able that it was not solicited. As stated by Mr Fawkes, who stood by the side of the new Member at the hustings, " it was the most perfect, the most satisfactory, and most admirable popular triumph THE SUCCESSFUL PRINTER. 277 that was ever achieved." His fellow-townsmen loaded him with expressions of joy, and when he left Leeds to take his seat in the House of Commons, he received the honour of a popular demonstration, which was followed by acclamations as he passed through other towns in his progress. During the period of the Grey administration, Mr Baines main- tained in the House a position of independence and respect. He spoke often, but only for a short time, and was always listened to with the greatest atten- tion. Every subject which concerned the welfare of the people interested him, but the Poor Law Amendment Bill was the question which called forth his 1 greatest vigour and his strongest protest. On the accession of Sir Kobert Peel, Mr Baines was again elected Member for Leeds, and when the Whig party resumed power, he gave all his assist- ance to the great measure for the improvement of municipal corporations. Throughout the session his labour never slackened, nor was he ever known to be dismayed by defeat, or sickened by contention — though, of all men, one of the greatest lovers of peace and harmony. In one of his letters during this stormy session he writes : — t( It is one of the greatest blessings to be a member of an united family, and nothing can be more mischievous than to let any root of bitterness spring up among those who ought to cultivate this union. With these views I have always been anxious in our family, 278 EDWARD BAINES over which it has pleased God to place me, that we should put the most liberal construction upon each other's conduct, that we should not say or do any- thing to disturb our mutual affection and good will, and that whenever anything that might interrupt our harmony should arise, we should endeavour as much as possible to re-unite and to remove the cause of the misunderstanding." This fine senti- ment, which lies at the root of all domestic happi- ness, and deserves to be treasured up, he endea- voured to carry into all his public relations. Returned again in 1837, along with Sir William Molesworth, Mr Baines still retained his vigour. "My days and nights," he says at this time, "are passed in endeavouring to understand the various subjects that are continually pressing for attention in Parliament, and in enabling myself to know what course to take as these subjects arise. My corres- pondence, too, is very considerable, and though I endeavour to get myself excused from serving on many public and private committees, I still find that with all rny precautions, I have frequently two and three and sometimes even four committees sit- ting on the same day." At this period he was sixty- four years of age. Hitherto his opponent, Sir John Becket, had come very near him in his votes, but at the next election following, on the accession of Queen Victoria, Mr Baines showed his rise in public confidence by an immense majority. He again THE SUCCESSFUL PEINTEE. 279 devoted himself with untiring energy to all the questions of the day. But " the stronsr men bow themselves." " The years will draw nigh." The process of growing old is humbling to sense, bitter to recollections, but en- nobling to faith. How strangely and stealthily the effect creeps on. The weak points begin to be felt, and are imputed to the old cause, disordered organs. The active mind discovers with surprise some re- luctance in the body to answer as formerly the usual demands, and it is apt to chide and urge on the worn servant. But the truth works, and there is a bowing of the head to necessity; the indispens- able gravity shades the countenance and dims the eye ; yet all the time the conscious weakness gives maturity to wisdom, and the reconciliation between the soul and its fate brings humility to adorn good- ness. It was not otherwise with Mr Baines. His long life of utility and ceaseless activity had been sustained by uninterrupted health, but had gradu- ally made inroads on his constitution. He was sooner fatigued, his sleep was more broken, his appetite became fastidious. For almost the only time in his life he consulted a doctor, and was told there was inflammation, which affected the liver and adjacent organs. For some months in 1841 he was under medical advice in Leeds, and afterwards in London. Though subsequently recruiting and re-acquiring his cheerfulness, his former elasticity 280, EDWARD BAINES and vigour was beyond recall. Yet he struggled on, inspired even in his weakness by the great events that immediately issued : the freedom of trade from the shackles of import dues, introduced in the memorable budget of the 30th April, and the question of the Corn Laws, advancing rapidly to a consummation. His last speech was on the 15th of June, in support of a resolution made by Mr Scholefleld to the effect that the distress of the in- dustrious classes, from the want of employment, and the high price of provisions, rendered it incum- bent on Parliament to devise means of alleviation, so that his terminating effort was a reluming of that love he bore to his fellow-countrymen, which had been the earliest feeling of his inspiration. His retirement from Parliamentary life affords one of the greatest displays of love and gratitude on the part of constituents that ever repaid the services of a good man. A candelabrum weighing 575 ounces, and decorated by appropriate symbols, was at the same time presented to him, bearing a high eulo- gium on an entire life devoted to the advancement and prosperity of his fellow-men. It may be stated that Mr Baines' religious cha- racter underwent considerable ( Nange in the latter years of his life. Never at any J5me doubting the truths of Christianity, he yet did not feel the fer- vency which constitutes a religious man ; display- ing in the most amiable form the moral virtues— THE SUCCESSFUL PRINTER. 281 attentive to the ordinary observances of religion, and not without zeal, but still without the inward warmth of devotion well described as the result of " the new birth." A variety of causes combined to produce a change upon him — the principal being his grateful thankfulness for the abundance of gifts conferred upon him and his large and happy family. He now took a greatly increased interest in the readings and conversations of his wife and daughters, and listened with a humility which surprised them when allusion was made to the importance of his own interests in the Saviour. His faithful pastor, Mr Ely, was among the first who discovered this change, and in the winter of 1838 he suggested to Mr Baines the propriety of making an open profes- sion of religion by uniting himself with the church. There was not the least apparent shrinking from that step on any ground of false shame, but he expressed a fear of his own unworthiness : he was not yet satisfied that a decisive change had taken place in his heart, and he desired time. He spoke of the warnings given him by the deaths of his relations, and confessed that he held it of the highest moment to come to a decision on a question which involved his immortal interests. The removal of another friend, his brother-in-law, Mr John Talbot, was another warning, and upon the re- solicitation of Mr Ely, he allowed himself to be proposed, and was admitted a member of the church of Salem on 3d 2n 282 EDWARD BAINES January, 1840. We now find him jotting down prayers and heads of prayers much in the way followed by Dr Johnson. It has been said that when one devotes himself to mankind, mankind will in the end make a slave of him ; but the slave is in the general case a will- ing one, finding greater delight in his slavery than others do in their selfish independence. Though relieved of his Parliamentary duties, Mr Baines, with diminished health and powers, continued to devote himself to his old favourite duties with as much cheerfulness as in the heyday of his life. He was chosen President of the United Mechanics' Institution and Literary Society, and for several years he had been a Magistrate for the borough, and also for the West Riding. But highly esteemed as all such honours must have been, they were of slight importance to such a man as Mr Baines, in comparison with the blessing of being surrounded by an excellent family. His eldest son, Mr Talbot Baines, had risen high in his profession as a barris- ter, and been elected Member of Parliament for Hull. Now in his 75th year, Mr Baines was once more bidding fair for even more work — his step came again to be so light and elastic, his figure so erect, and his countenance so unwrinkled and happy, that it was difficult to think of him as the old man. But a change was at hand. On the 10th of July THE SUCCESSFUL PRINTER. 283 1848 he sustained a loss of blood. On the 19th his weakness produced alarm. " What is the ten- dency of all these things ?" he inquired at the doctor. "Not to recovery," was the reply; and the last scene was approaching. His death-bed was in many respects remarkable. He observed, " I sometimes can hardly realise the thought of death, I feel so little of its terrors." Again, "I feel sometimes unable to express my thoughts, but my mind has generally its usual measure of clearness." Turning his eyes towards his children, he said, " Be very- kind to my wife when I am gone." One of his daughters responded, " We will." " I have very much reason to ask it," he continued. " Through God, all the implantation of good in you has been on her part." Then the good mother said, "I refer it all to the goodness of God, who blesses the weak- est means. You will only precede me a short time. The most earnest desire of my soul has ever been that God would hear my prayers for your salvation. He did hear them for our children. Now he has given me the richest consolation in seeing his work perfected in you." He afterwards addressed each of his sons and daughters separately, in composed, appropriate, and consoling terms, making reference to all their prominent circumstances, and the whole scene has been represented as truly dignified and patriarchal. He now gradually sank, passing some- times into unconsciousness, and on reviving, being 284 EDWARD BAINES. delighted to hear the singing of hymns by his daughters, asking in particular for that beautiful one of Robert Grant's— " When gathering clouds around I view, And days are dark and friends are few." As death approached, he raised his arms, and with a placid smile on his face, said, " This is a solemn scene; we must now part, but the season of separa- tion will be a speck of time, and I hope we shall be re-united in a world of eternal blessedness and glory. Goodbye." He seemed to wish to say more, but was so much exhausted as to be com- pelled to whisper, " This is almost more than I can sustain." • BOOKS PUBLISHED BY JAMES HOGG & SONS. In small crown 8vo, rich gilt binding, 3s. Cd. each, 1. — Men who have Risen : A Book for Boys. With Illustrations printed on Toned Paper. 2. — Women of Worth : A Book for Girls. With Illustrations printed on Toned Paper. 3. — Friendly Hands and Kindly Words: Stories Illustrative of the Law of Kindness, the Power of Perseverance, and the Advantages of Little Helps. With niuatrations printed on Toned Paper. 4. — Roses and Thorns ; or Five Tales of the Start in Life. With Illustrations printed on Toned Paper. 5. — The Sea and her Famous Sailors : A History of Maritime Adventure, Exploration, and Incidents in the Lives of Distinguished Naval Heroes and Adventurers. With IUustrations printed on Toned Paper. *»* This volume, whether viewed as a careful, concise Ocean History, or aa a compact series of Tales and Adventures, possesses many attractive as well aa useful features. It emhraces the rise and faU of Maritime Greatness in con- nexion with the annals of various nations — the enterprise and endurance which won and obtained Naval power, and the innumerable episodes of brilliant dar- ing which mark the career of our Early Adventurers. 6. — The Leighs ; or, The Discipline of Daily Life. By Miss Palmer. With Illustrations by Walter Kay Woods, printed on Toned Paper. 7. — The Busy -Hives around Us : A Variety of Trips and Visits to the Mine, the Workshop, and the Factory. With Popular Notes on Materials, Processes, and Machines. With Illustrations by Harvey, &c, printed on Toned Paper. 8. — The Vicar of Wakefield. By Oliver Goldsmith. A Complete Edition, presenting a Clear, Handsome Text, with Twelve choice full-page Illustrations printed on Toned Paper. 9 Nohle Traits of Kingly Men ; or, Pictures and Anecdotes of European History ; with a Bird's-eye View of the Grander Movements and their Leaders. With IUustrations by S. A. Groves, printed on Toned Paper. 10. — Todd's Lectures to Children : A Complete Edition of the First and Second Series, with a Memoir of the Author, from Authentic Sources, and Twelve full-page Illustrations printed on Toned Paper. 11. — The Angel of the Iceherg, and other Stories and Parables, Illustrating Great Moral Truths. Designed chieflv for the Young. To which is added TRUTH MADE SIMPLE ; A System of Theology for Children, With Twelve Illustrations by K. W. Sherwin, printed on Toned Paper. 12. — Pictures of Heroes, and Lessons from their Lives. With Illustration printed on Toned Paper. PUBLISHED BY JAMES HOGG AND SONS, LONDON. Three Shilling and Sixpenny Books, in rich gilt binding — Continued. 13. — The Pilgrim in the Holy Land; or, Palestine Past and Present. By Rev. Henry S. Osborne, A.M. With Twelve Illustrations of various Objects of Interest in the Holy Land, printed on Toned Paper. 14. — Favourite Passages in Modern Christian Biography. With a Group of Portraits. 15. — The Pilgrim's Progress. By John Bunyan. A Complete Edition, presenting a Cleat Handsome Text, with Twelve Choice Illustrations by C. A. Doyle, printed on Toned Paper. 16.— The Star of Hope and the Staff of Duty : Tales of Womanly Trials and Victories. With Illustrations by Julian Portch, printed on Toned Paper. 17. — Hints on the Culture of Character. By the Hon. and Eight Rev. the late Bishop of Durham ; the Rev. Thomas Dale, M.A. ; the Rev. Henry MelviUe, B.D. ; and the late Rev. George Croly, LL.D. With a variety of Passages selected from the writings of Eminent Divines, chiefly those of the present day. 18. — Aunt Agnes ; or, The Why and Wherefore of Life. An Autobiography. With Illustrations printed on Toned Paper. 19. — The Long Holidays ; or, Learning without Lessons. By H. A. Ford. With Illustrations by C. A. Doyle, printed on Toned Paper. 20.— The Wave and the Battle Field. By Mrs Stewart, Author of " Atheline ; or, the Castle by the Sea," " Bradmere Pool," &c. With Elustra- tions by Henry Saunderson, printed on Toned Paper. 21. — The Printer Boy; or, How Benjamin Franklin made his Mark. An Example for Youth. By William M. Thayer. With niustrations by Julian Portch, the Frontispiece and. Vignette Coloured. 22. — The Habits of Good Society : A Handbook of Etiquette for Ladies and Gentlemen. With Thoughts, Hints, and Anecdotes concerning Social Observances, nice Points of Taste and Good Manners, and the Art of making One's-self Agreeable. The whole interspersed with Humorous Illustrations of Social Predicaments, Remarks on the History and Changes of Fashion, and the Differences of English and Continental Etiquette. With a Frontispiece. 23. — Small Beginnings ; or, The Way to Get On. With Illustrations, printed on Toned Paper. 24. — The Popular Preachers of the Ancient Church, their Lives, their Manner, and their Work. By the Rev. William Wilson, M.A. With Illustrations by Henry Anelay, printed on Toned Paper. 25. — The Book of Children's Hymns and Rhymes. Collected by the Daughter of a Clergyman. Illustrated with numerous En- gravings on Wood. This is a comprehensive coUection of what may be called the " Children's Favourites." 26. — The Missionary in Many Lands : A Series of Interesting Sketches of Missionary Life. By Erwin House, A.M. With Eight Coloured Illustrations. 27. — The Four Homes. By Mrs Gother Mann. With Illustrations by Horace Petherick, printed on Toned Paper. 28.— The Life of Abraham. By A. H. L. Revised by the Rev. Richard Lowndes, Rector of Poole-Keynes, Wilts. 29. — Interesting Chapters in Bible History, and Scripture Illus* tration. With Engravings on Wood, printed on Toned Paper. Published by james hogg and sons, london. BOOKS SPECIALLY ADAPTED TO THE YOUNG. At Two and Sixpence each. Post 8to, strongly bound in cloth, Illustrated. 1. — The Little Warringtons. By Anna J. 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A New Edition, to which is added, (for the first time), TALES AND FABLES : in Verse. By the same Author. With Illus- trations by William Harvey. 6. — Philip and his Garden. With other Stories. By Charlotte Elizabeth. With Illustrations by W. S. Coleman. 7. — The Happy Days at Fem- bank. A Story for Little Girls. By Emma Marshall. With Illus- trations by J. A. Pasquier. 8. — Beatrice Langton ; or, the Spirit of Obedience. By Hareby Powis. With niustrations by Thomas B. Dalziel. 9. — The Laird's Ketum, and what came of it. A Story for Young People. By Geraldine Stewart. With Illustrations by Thomas Morton. PUBLISHED BY JAMES HOGG AND SONS, LONDON. In royal 18mo, strongly bound, ornamental Bide, and Coloured Engravings, THE ROSE-BUD STORIES. A New and Attractive Series of Juvenile Books, each volume Illustrated with Coloured Engravings. Sixteen Varieties, uniform in size and style. One Shilling and Sixpence each. 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And' influences benign of tender thought Inform the soul, like angels, unawares. Mary Howitt. ' 9.— Easy Talks for Little Folk. By the Author of " A Visit to tho Sea-side," " Little Crumbs," &o And MAY-DAY ; or, Anecdotes a. Miss Lydia Lively. Edited by L. Nugent. Four Coloured Pictures. 10. — Susan and the Doll; or, Do Not be Covetous. And THE LITTLE ORPHAN'S HISTORY ; or, Everything for the Best. By Caroline Leicester. With Four Coloured Pictures. 11. — Juvenile Tales for Juve- nile Readers. By Charlotte Eliza- beth. Four Coloured Pictures. 12. — The Life of Kohinson Crusoe: In Short Words. By Sarah Crompton, Author of " A Plan to Combine Education with Instruction," " Life of Columbus," " Life of Luther," in Short Words, &c. With Four Coloured Pictures. 13.— A Winter's Wreath of niustrative Tales. Edited by Lady Charlotte Law. And SYMPATHY : A Tale. By E. A. M. With Four Coloured Pictures. 14. — Little Paul and his Moss- wTeaths ; or, The King and the Boy who kept his Word. By Angelica von Lagerstrtim. Together with the STORY OF LITTLE GEORGE BELL. Four Coloured Pictures. 15. — Six Short Stories for Short People. By the Rev. F. W. B. Bouverio, Author of "Life and its Lessons." Four Coloured Pictures. 16.— The Captive Sky -Lark; or, Do as You Would bo Done by. A Tale. By Madame de Chatelaia. With Four Colourod Picture*. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 10M-11-5D(2555)470 KEM1NGTON RAND - 20 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 730190 6 CT 107 S63 m i