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 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 <f200 is likewise paid annually to ten 
 bursars, otherwise not connected with the institu- 
 tion, who receive £20 each — a preference being 
 shown to deserving youths who have attended the 
 Edinburgh High School. The higher character of 
 the education, and the pecuniary advantages of the 
 institution, render many persons, otherwise in tole- 
 rable circumstances, anxious to place their sons 
 under its roof ; and instances are not uncommon of 
 individuals purchasing the freedom of the city with 
 no other view than that of getting a child intro- 
 duced into Heriot's Hospital. A recent Act of Par- 
 liament, however, renders it imperative on the 
 governors to give the preference to fatherless child- 
 ren in poor circumstances. 
 £
 
 74 GEOEGE HERIOT 
 
 The Heriot Foundation Schools, to the erection 
 and maintenance of which the surplus revenue of 
 the charity has been applied since 1837, may be 
 regarded as by far the most interesting and valu- 
 able appropriation of the munificent endowment 
 of George Heriot. The children attending these 
 seminaries are instructed gratuitously in the com- 
 mon branches of a useful English education ; the 
 teachers, male and female, receive liberal salaries, 
 and their professional qualifications are of the high- 
 est order. To these institutions, as already noticed, 
 the children of burgesses in poor circumstances 
 have a preferable right, and after them the chil- 
 dren of poor citizens resident within the royalty of 
 the city. The late Mr Gibson, government in- 
 spector of schools, thus characterized these excel- 
 lent seminaries : — " Upon the whole, it is not too 
 much to say, that these schools form by far the 
 most valuable elementary educational machinery ex- 
 isting in this country. The course of instruction is 
 extensive, and based upon the soundest principles. 
 The teachers are thoroughly qualified to conduct 
 it with efficiency, and are admirably supported 
 by the instrumentality of apprentice teachers. 
 The superintendence is, without partaking in the 
 slightest degree of severity, effective, constant in 
 operation, and succeeds in maintaining the whole 
 in harmonious and most vigorous working order." 
 
 Such lias been the destination of the well-earned
 
 THE SHREWD GOLDSMITH. 75 
 
 fortune of George Heriot. How striking the con- 
 trast between the effects of his beneficent legacy to 
 the youth of his native city, and that bequeathed 
 to his kingdom and descendants by the royal master 
 he so long and faithfully served ! With a question- 
 able reputation for learning, which procured him, 
 partly in derision, the appellation of the Scottish 
 Solomon, James left nothing behind him save those 
 despotic principles which brought his son to the 
 scaffold and drove his family from the proudest 
 throne in Europe. His epitaph must be sought in 
 the follies and infatuation that brought on the 
 struggles of the Commonwealth and the Revolution. 
 The quaint old goldsmith, amidst those jewels 
 which dazzled the eyes of princes and nobles, de- 
 vised for himself a far different monument. And 
 now, when more than two centuries have passed 
 away, and the name of the king is remembered 
 with a curious mixture of pity and contempt, that 
 of the goldsmith is surrounded by a gradually ex- 
 panding circle of renown — hallowed in the hearts 
 of thousands of our youthful fellow-citizens, who go 
 forth to the struggles of the world grateful for that 
 priceless jewel of education obtained from the wise 
 munificence of one long ago gathered to his fathers.
 
 JOSEPH BKOTHERTON 
 
 THE FACTOKY BOY. 
 
 The personal history of Joseph Brotherton, late 
 M.P. for Salford, in its main features, is that of 
 thousands of his fellow-countrymen, who, by per- 
 severing industry and well directed skill, have 
 pushed their way from an humble station in life to 
 fortune, influence, and even rank. It is the type 
 of the history of a class who are nowhere to be 
 found but in England, where the aristocratic prin- 
 ciple is so happily tempered by the democratic 
 energy of the people as to allow of a continual in- 
 termingling between them. In other countries of 
 Europe, no doubt, low-born men have at times 
 gained a place in the national councils and exer- 
 cised an influence over the national history; but 
 for this they have been indebted to the personal 
 predilections of the Sovereign, or seized the oppor- 
 tunity of some popular commotion to flatter the 
 passions of the people. It is the glory of the 
 British constitution, that while her nobility may 
 rank among the loftiest in Europe, and her minis- 
 ters exercise a sway which despots might envy, 
 yet the gradations between all ranks are so smoothed 
 and tempered — the encouragements to honourable 
 ambition are so great — that the lowest need not
 
 JOSEPH BROTHERTON. 77 
 
 despair of himself or his children attaining to the 
 highest ; that the application of industry, intelli- 
 gence, and skill to the ordinary pursuits of life will, 
 under God's blessing, infallibly conduct to respect, 
 honour, and influence ; and that, in a country like 
 ours, talent and genius, backed by integrity, are 
 sure to find their reward. It is this, after all, that 
 forms the main bond of attachment among our 
 people to our national institutions, and makes them 
 resolve, in the words of Sir Robert Peel, himself 
 the most eminent representative of the class we 
 speak of, so to preserve the institutions of the 
 country, "that other ministers may spring from 
 other cotton-spinners." 
 
 Joseph Brotherton was bom at Whittington, a 
 village near Chesterfield, in Derbyshire, in the 
 year 1783. His father held a situation in the ex- 
 cise department ; and as his labours in this rural 
 district were light, and his emoluments in propor- 
 tion, he contrived to eke out his scanty income by 
 adding to his other duties that of village school- 
 master. He was a man of a vigorous and in- 
 telligent mind, fond of speculation, and active in 
 acquiring information of all kinds. It must, there- 
 fore, have been a welcome notification to him, when, 
 in the year 1792, young Joseph being then about 
 nine years of age, he was summoned by the Board 
 of Excise from his obscure life beneath the shadow 
 of the Peak to the more active and bustling scenes
 
 78 JOSEPH BROTHERTON, 
 
 of Manchester, then rapidly rising into importance, 
 though the most sanguine speculator of that day 
 could not have predicted its present greatness as 
 the emporium of the manufactures of the world. 
 The duties of the exciseman must here have been 
 considerably increased ; but they were still insuffi- 
 cient to occupy the active mind of Mr Brotherton : 
 and looking round for some additional occupation, 
 his quick eye at once fixed upon the cotton market, 
 then in its infancy, and he resolved to embark his 
 small gains and his active intellect in that employ- 
 ment. It is to be observed, that at that period the 
 manufacture of cotton was far from being concen- 
 trated in immense mills such as have since grown 
 up in Manchester and the neighbourhood, and 
 which, by the magnitude of the capital required, 
 scare away the man of humble means from any 
 idea of embarking in such a speculation. At that 
 time the steam-engine was looked upon as a novelty : 
 there were not above two or three engines employed 
 in Manchester; the great bulk of the manufac- 
 turers, therefore, were engaged in a comparatively 
 small way, and their looms were worked by the 
 hand. This of course presented an opening to Mr 
 Brotherton's engaging in the trade,, but it was to a 
 very limited extent ; and so humble were his 
 means, that he felt he could only succeed by the 
 unremitting application of his own industry, and 
 that of all over whom he had influence. While the
 
 THE FACTOKY BOY. 79 
 
 question of success was left doubtful, lie was un- 
 willing to give up his situation in the excise, feel- 
 ing that that was at least a sure resource against 
 utter ruin ; but as his son Joseph was now come 
 of years in which he could be useful in the factory, 
 he was at once sent there along with his brothers, 
 and underwent the usual routine of toil incident to 
 the life of a factory-boy at that time ; his father 
 probably making a greater demand upon the labour 
 of his own children than he might have done with 
 those of strangers. It was to this period of his life 
 that Mr Brotherton alluded in the House of Com- 
 mons, in the discussion on the Ten Hours' Bill, 
 when he detailed with true natural pathos the 
 hardships and fatigues to which he had been sub- 
 jected, and the resolution he had then made, that 
 if ever it was in his power he would endeavour to 
 ameliorate the condition of those who might here- 
 after be placed in his condition. It was in allusion 
 to that speech that Sir James Graham, who followed 
 him in the debate, declared, amidst the cheers of 
 the Members, that he did not before know that Mr 
 Brotherton had sprung from so humble an origin ; 
 but that it rendered him more proud than he had 
 ever been before of the House of Commons, to 
 think that a person rising from that condition 
 should be able to sit side by side, and on equal 
 terms, with the hereditary gentry of the land. 
 Mr Brotherton's business prospered so well under
 
 80 JOSEPH BROTHERTON 
 
 his management, that he at last resolved to give np 
 his duties as an excise-officer, and to devote him- 
 self wholly to manufacturing pursuits ; and, extend- 
 ing his concerns, he entered into partnership with 
 a gentleman of the name of Booth. In the com- 
 paratively larger premises, thus formed, Joseph 
 steadily worked his way up through every grada- 
 tion in the mill to the honourable position of over- 
 looker, and eventually became a partner in the 
 firm. 
 
 From this sketch of his early career it may easily 
 be supposed that he had not much time allowed 
 for the acquisition of knowledge — none for making 
 acquaintance with the politer arts. His time, from 
 a child to manhood, was passed in unremitting toil, 
 extending over a period much longer than the law 
 now allows a factory boy to be worked, and much 
 more severely taxing the physical energies than at 
 present, when, by the application of steam, and the 
 aid of numberless curious contrivances, the labour 
 of the child is reduced to little more than merely 
 watching the machinery. But the mind of Joseph 
 Brotherton was too elastic to be damped by dis- 
 couragements like these — too ardent to be turned 
 from the pursuit of knowledge by the obstacles 
 which fortune had placed in his way. He received 
 the rudiments of his education from his father, the 
 quondam schoolmaster of Whittington, who was 
 not only careful to give his children a thorough
 
 THE FACTORY BOY. 81 
 
 knowledge at least of their mother-tongue, but also 
 laboured with great assiduity to instil right prin- 
 ciples and correct habits of thought into their 
 minds. He was himself a good English scholar 
 and an excellent mathematician, and from a very- 
 early period his son Joseph displayed a taste for 
 the same description of studies. Those who were 
 familiar with him at that time speak of him as a 
 boy displaying extraordinary attachment to his 
 books ; his spare moments, and these must have 
 been few, being always devoted to study. Nor did 
 he read simply for relaxation. He despised the 
 trifling literature of the day; he had no taste for 
 novels ; while a book on physical science was 
 greedily seized and perseveringly perused. He 
 was in particular attached to the science of engin- 
 eering, and all treatises connected with that subject 
 were eagerly sought after and highly prized. It 
 cannot be doubted that these studies were fostered 
 by the precepts of his father, to whom, in his mode 
 of thought and the general bent of his inclination, 
 Mr Brotherton bore a striking resemblance. 
 
 But though his fondness for scientific branches 
 of study damped and chilled the genial play of his 
 fancy, nothing could overlay the kindliness of his 
 disposition, and the ardent working of his moral 
 feelings. We have already seen how, while yet 
 fighting his course upward in the stifling atmos- 
 phere of the cotton-mill, the obscure boy was plan- 
 L
 
 82 JOSEPH BROTHERTON 
 
 ning scliemes for the amelioration of his species, 
 and gilding the dull routine of factory life with 
 gorgeous day-dreams of extended benevolent action ; 
 and those vows, made in the hours of toil, and in a 
 position of obscurity, he honourably redeemed 
 through the whole of his subsequent course. 
 
 On the death of the elder Mr Brotherton his son 
 succeeded to his position and influence in the con- 
 cern. So soon as Mr Brotherton had fought his 
 way upwards to an independent position, and gained 
 a breathing space from the unrelaxing labour "which 
 he had formerly been engaged in, he was far from 
 sitting down and taking his ease. An earnest 
 spirit like his seemed rather to feel that Providence 
 had ordained that men should have the blessings 
 of riches and enjoyment that they might devote 
 their leisure to the improvement of the condition 
 of their less fortunate brethren ; and he had no dis- 
 position to set himself free from the condition of 
 the tenure on which he conceived his position was 
 held. He very early began to look round and see 
 what good work he might engage in which might 
 benefit his neighbours. As may be supposed, he 
 was not long in finding an object. There were in 
 Salford, where his premises were, various public 
 charities, bequeathed by the piety of former genera- 
 tions for the use of the poor of the place. These 
 had become, in the lapse of years, completely di- 
 verted from their original pui-pose, and were un-
 
 THE FACTOKY BOY. 83 
 
 blushingly applied to private and personal purposes. 
 Mr Brotherton, then in his twenty-ninth year, 
 boldly set himself to redress this wrong. It could 
 not be supposed that the young manufacturer, him- 
 self lately emerged from the dust of the cotton- 
 mill, would have much influence ; and the mal- 
 appropriators of the charities were numerous, active, 
 and influential. With true English pertinacity, 
 however, Mr Brotherton set himself to work, sus- 
 tained by that buoyant feeling of self-reliance, and 
 dogged determination to win, which is the peculiar 
 characteristic of our countrymen, and is itself the 
 most valuable element of success. His exertions 
 were not confined to frothy orations at public meet>- 
 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." •
 
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