UNIVLRbllY 
 
 Ul- CALlt-URNI 
 ^ ANGELES 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 MAY TREAT MORRISON 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 ALEXANDER F MORRISON
 
 MUUUli AND SCOTT IN THE RHYMERS' GLEN.
 
 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 Dl;SIGNED AS 
 
 INCITEMENTS TO INTELLECTUAL INDUSTRY. 
 
 By JOHN O. EDGAR, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE BOVrtOOD OF GREAT MEN." 
 
 The heights by greal men reached and kept, 
 
 Were not attained oy sudden liight, 
 But they, while their companions slept, 
 
 Were toiling upward in the night. 
 
 LONGFELLOVA 
 
 112^it|) Ellustratfons. 
 
 NE W YO RK: 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS
 
 " Magna etiam ilia laus, et admirabilis videri solet, tulisse 
 casus sapienter adversos, non fractum esse fortuna, reti- 
 nuisse in rebus asperis dignitatem." 
 
 CiCEKO dc Oral.
 
 77 
 
 / 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I.— MEN OF ACTION. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 WASHINGTON U 
 
 BURKE 44 
 
 NECKER 68 
 
 PITT 82 
 
 LORD ERSKINE 103 
 
 LORD COLLING WOOD 123 
 
 LORD TEIGNMOUTH 143 
 
 11.— MEN OF LETTERS, 
 
 DEAN MILNER 159 
 
 DAVID HUME 180 
 
 SOUTHEY 200 
 
 MOORE 226 
 
 in.— ARTISTS. 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 243 
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY 272 
 
 SIR THRISTOPHER WREN .289 
 
 4:31993
 
 vi CONTENTS. 
 
 IV.— MEN OF SCIENCE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 DR. WILLIAM HUNTER 305 
 
 BLACK 324 
 
 BRINDLEY 332 
 
 WATT 340 
 
 ADAM SMITH 348
 
 LIST OF PLATES. 
 
 MOORE AND SCOTT IN THE RHYMER'S GLEN Frontis. 
 
 VOUNG WASHINGTON'S MILITARY ASPIRATIONS. . Pa^e 11 
 
 BURKE READING TO HIS MOTHER 46 
 
 ERSKINE'S FIRST SUCCESSES 116 
 
 COLLINGWOOD'S JUVENILE GENEROSITY 130 
 
 MILNER RESCUED FROM THE LOOM 166 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS AT BLENHEIM 267 
 
 CHANTREY'S EARLY STUDIES 277
 
 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 The name, which this truly great and good man 
 rendered for ever illustrious and venerable, is of thor- 
 oughly English origin, and was assumed, from a manor 
 in the county of Durham, by one of the proprietors, 
 during the dynasty of the Plantagenets. The family 
 continued, for successive centuries, to produce men 
 distinguished in their day and generation as knights, 
 divines, lawyers, and agriculturists ; and during the 
 Protectorate two of its cadets, more adventurous than 
 their predecessors, fared forth from a hereditary grange 
 in Northamptonshire, took shipping for Virginia, sailed 
 into the bay of Chesapeake, and settled, in the midst 
 of silk grass and wild fruit, under the shade of the 
 tall, bulky trees on the banks of the Potomac. 
 
 The grandson of one of these emigrants, a colonist 
 of industry, enterprise, and repute, flourished in the 
 earlier part of the eighteenth century. He seems to 
 have been fully alive to the inconvenience, and steeled 
 against the temptations of celibacy ; for he was twice
 
 10 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 married, and blessed with several children, of whom 
 George Washington — the eldest son by the second wife 
 — was born on the 22d of February, 1732. Shortly 
 after this joyous event, the worthy and prosperous 
 planter removed to an estate he possessed in Stafford 
 county ; and there, on the east side of the Rappa- 
 hannoc river, the childhood of the future general and 
 statesman was passed. He soon gave indications of 
 a natural disposition to lead and govern ; and showed 
 an innate inclination for military pursuits and athletic 
 exercises. When at play, he took iniinite delight in 
 forming his youthful comrades into companies, which 
 he drilled, marched, and paraded with due order and 
 formality. Sometimes they were divided into two 
 armies, and fought mimic battles — he acting as cap- 
 tam-general of one party. Then, as in maturer years, 
 he was much given to such feats as running, leaping, 
 wrestling, throwing bars, and others of a similar char- 
 acter. Moreover, he was held in great respect by his 
 more volatile companions, who looked up to him as 
 an extraordinary lad ; and thus he was often privi- 
 leged to arbitrate on and settle their casual disputes, 
 always, it is stated, to the satisfaction of the parties 
 concerned. 
 
 It has been remarked that, in general, persons at- 
 tain with credit, and fill with dignity, the positions 
 Avhich might have been anticipated from their juve- 
 nile indications. Some, indeed, afterward display tal- 
 ents of which, in their first stages, they gave no sign,
 
 YOUNG 'VASHTNGTON'S MILITARY ASPIRATIONS
 
 WASHINGTON. 13 
 
 and others put forth a blossom not destined to bring 
 forth the promised fruits : but most frequently the 
 man is such as might have been predicted from the 
 characteristics exhibited in early years. Washington 
 can- hardly be regarded as an exception to the general 
 rule ; though it is unnecessary to add, that he more 
 than realized any hopes that could reasonably have 
 been entertained from his puerile perfonnances. The 
 seminary at which he received his very scanty educa- 
 tion was by no means of the highest class. The 
 pupils were not even initiated into the rudiments of 
 classical learning. Enough was taught the urchins 
 to fit them for conducting the practical business of a 
 planter — at that time the pursuit of nearly all gentle- 
 men whose progenitors had left the comfort and secu- 
 rity of merrj' England to encounter the toils and hard- 
 ship of a colonial life. The teachers seem to have 
 acted rigidly on the precept of a Spartan king, that 
 the boy should be instructed in the arts likely to be 
 useful to the man. If, on leaving school, the hope- 
 ful youths could read with decent correctness, write a 
 tolerable hand, and keep accounts intelligibly, what 
 more was wanting to capacitate them for gi'owing to- 
 bacco and shipping it, to be disposed of by the com- 
 mercial magnates who, arrayed in scarlet cloaks and 
 flowing periwigs, paced, with haughty step and un- 
 varied pride, the arched Exchange of Glasgow ? Young 
 men destined for learned professions were, it is true, 
 generally sent to be educated in England ; for others,
 
 14 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 a private tutor was sometimes engaged ; but in most 
 cases the juvenile Virginians shouldered their satchels, 
 and, picking up the wild grapes in their path, march- 
 ed to the nearest hamlet to make the best of such 
 tuition as it boasted of. Such, at all events, was the 
 fortune of Washington. Under these disadvantageous 
 circumstances, he pursvied his simple studies with un- 
 usual vigor and exemplary diligence. At the age of 
 thirteen, he strangely occupied much of his attention 
 with the dry forms used in mercantile transactions. 
 He practiced his skill in the writing of bonds, inden- 
 tures, bills of exchange, and other deeds, compiled for 
 his own use and guidance a code of rules for behavior 
 in company and conversation, and transcribed such 
 pieces of poetry as touched and charmed his fancy. 
 From a boy, he was peculiarly careful to polish his 
 manners, to cherish the heart's best affections, to do 
 to others as he would be done to, and to exercise such 
 a habitual control over himself, that he might restrain 
 his constitutional ardor and hold his natural suscep- 
 tibility in check. His early compositions were not, 
 from the imperfect nature of his education, distin- 
 guished by grammatical correctness ; but, by reading 
 and perseverance, he gradually overcame these de- 
 fects, and learned to express himself ^\■ith force, clear- 
 ness, and propriety. He had a decided turn for math- 
 ematical studies ; and the last years of his school 
 career were devoted to the mysteries of geometry, 
 trigonometrv, and surveying. For the last he felt a
 
 WASHINGTON. 15 
 
 singular partiality ; and he gratified the taste by meas- 
 uring the neighboring fields and plantations, entering 
 all the details and particulars in his note-books. This 
 was done M'ith systematic precision ; he used his pen 
 with the most scrupulous care, and acquired habits 
 v/hich were of inestimable value when he ascended 
 to posts of peril and responsibility. 
 
 Meantime, his father had been cut ofl'in the prime 
 of life ; but this early deprivation was, in Washing- 
 ton's case, almost counteracted by the character of 
 his surviving parent, who, being a woman of sense, 
 tenderness, vigilance, a strong mind, and prudent man- 
 agement, reared her family with the utmost discre- 
 tion and success. She had the satisfaction of living 
 to witness the splendid position to which the abilities, 
 conduct, and energy of her sou ultimately elevated him 
 
 Washington went no longer to school after his six- 
 teenth year. His relations had previously entertained 
 the intention of entering him as a midshipman in the 
 navy ; and with this view had successfully exerted 
 their influence to procure him a warrant. It appears 
 that the future hero of a continent joyfully acquiesced 
 in this scheme for his advancement in life ; and had 
 it been persisted in, he would no doubt have borne 
 himself with credit and distinction. This was un- 
 questionably a critical juncture in his career, and in 
 the history of America ; but it was terminated, im- 
 prudently in the opinion of his friends, by the inter- 
 ference of his widowed mother, who little relished the
 
 16 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 thought of her darlmg behag sent " to rough it out at 
 sea." She therefore authoritatively forbade his de- 
 parture. Perhaps the incipient hero was not altogether 
 disconsolate at the maternal veto being thus exer- 
 cised ; for about this date he proved himself not insen- 
 sible to the magic power of female grace, and became 
 vehemently enamored of some rural beauty. He cele- 
 brated her perfections in love-ditties, and confessed his 
 pangs in letters to a confident ; but, with a modesty 
 surely rare under such circumstances, he ventured not 
 to reveal the state of his agitated heart to the fair be- 
 ing whose image was stamped on its t-ablets. 
 
 At tliis period, "Washington was fortunate enough 
 to go on a visit to his eldest brother, Lawrence. That 
 gentleman was intelligent and accomplished. He 
 had served with honor in the expedition made, in 
 1740, against Carthagena ; and secured the esteem 
 and intimacy of the high-spirited Admiral Vernon. 
 On returning home he had, in compliment to that 
 gallant officer, named his property Mount Vernon ; 
 and they still continued in friendly communication. 
 He had, moreover, become a member of the Colonial 
 legislature, and connected himself by marriage with 
 Lord Fairfax, who, having in earlier days proved his 
 capacity by writing papers in the "Spectator," had 
 just crossed the Atlantic to explore and examine the 
 immense tract of land that belonged to him in the 
 New World. Thus the company in which the elder 
 Washington moved was by no means deficient in lit-
 
 WASHINGTON. 17 
 
 erary culture or patrician refinement ; and his saga- 
 cious brother, in mixing with it, had opened up to his 
 view aspects of society with which he might other- 
 wise have remained unacquainted. He was too wise 
 not to avail himself of the advantage in this way pre- 
 sented to his opening mind. Slow to speak, ready to 
 hear, and anxious to understand, he used it to counter- 
 poise the partial training his mental faculties had un- 
 dergone, and thus laid the foundation of the mild dig- 
 nity and scrupulous politeness Avhich, in other days, 
 made Sir Robert Listen declare, that he had never 
 conversed with a better-bred sovereign in any court of 
 Europe. 
 
 Lord Fairfax, on reaching his wild and uncultivated 
 possessions, found that settlers were quietly making 
 their way up the rivers, selecting the most valuable 
 spots, and occupying them without leave or license. 
 It was, therefore, deemed necessary that his seignorial 
 rights should be asserted ; and with that object he 
 determined on having the lands properly lotted and 
 measured, preparatory to claiming rents and giving 
 titles. The destined victor in the War of Indepen- 
 dence had already been presented to this clever, but 
 eccentric, representative of the renowned Parliamen- 
 tary general ; a favorable opinion had, in consequence, 
 been formed of the youth's merits and ability ; and 
 Washington being intrusted with the responsible duty, 
 and attended by a kinsman of his lordship, sallied forth 
 on his first surveying excursion in the begiiming of 
 B
 
 18 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 1748. The task was arduous and fatiguing ; lie was 
 frequently obliged to pass whole nights under the cold 
 sky, or in tents which afibrded little shelter against the 
 wintery wind and rain : but the expedition was not 
 without beneficial results. He became conversant 
 with localities then little known, but afterward the 
 field of his military operations ; he saw soniethuig of 
 Indian life, witnessed an Indian war-dance, and ac- 
 quired some acquaintance with the habits of the race 
 upon which the spirit of civilization was bearing so 
 hard. Besides, he executed his task with so much 
 success, as not only to give complete satisfaction to his 
 noble employer, but to establish his character as an 
 excellent surveyor ; a matter of considerable conse- 
 quence, as there were then few in the district, and the 
 emoluments were temptingly high. He therefore pro- 
 cured a commission, which gave authority to his opera- 
 tions, and entitled him to have their results entered in 
 the provincial registers. By activity and diligence his 
 occupation was rendered very lucrative ; and on at- 
 taining the age of nineteen he had achieved so envi- 
 able a place in public esteem, that a most honorable 
 military appointment was bestowed upon him by the 
 Government on the approach of danger. 
 
 His taste for martial affairs had, indeed, been ad- 
 hered to with resolution, and cultivated with assiduity. 
 Since acting as a surveyor, he had resided chiefly with 
 his brother, whose house was more conveniently situ- 
 ated for his exertions than was the home of his infancy ;
 
 WASHINGTON. 19 
 
 and he had, from this cause, been brought more into 
 contact, than he would otherwise have been, with men 
 versed in mihtary matters. Under their instruction 
 he had industriously practiced himself in sword exer- 
 cise,and become not inexpert. Besides, he had eagerly 
 studied books treating of the art of war. The early 
 aspirations of great men are generally met with ridi- 
 cule. " Obsta j^rificij^iis" is too often the motto of 
 jealous dunces. When the author of " Marmion" pro- 
 posed in youth to compose his " War-Song of the Edin- 
 burgh Light Dragoons," the idea of his attempting 
 such a thing raised coarse laughter, and was regarded 
 as a piece of absurdity ; and, in like manner, it is not 
 difficult to imagine the brisk tittering excited by the 
 efforts of the young colonial surveyor to initiate him- 
 self into handling the \A'eapons and understanding the 
 theory of war. 
 
 But however that may have been, it came to pass 
 that, in 1751, when there appeared a prospect of en- 
 croachment 'on the part of the French, and it was 
 deemed prudent to embody the militia to defend and 
 protect the frontiers, Washington received a commis- 
 sion as Adjutant-General of one of the districts into 
 which Virginia was divided. This entitled him to rank 
 as major ; and his duty was to assemble and exercise 
 the local troops, inspect their arms, and maintain fit- 
 ting discipline ; no unworthy training for that military 
 genius which subsequently accomplished so much for 
 the land of his nativity. Then, as afterward, candor,
 
 20 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 sincerity, and straightforwardness were the character- 
 istics of his noble mind. He had been emuiently en- 
 dowed by Nature with the quahties which form a 
 ruler of men ; and perhaps the training which he now 
 underwent was, in reality, more favorable than any 
 of a more regular and systematic kind would have been 
 to the Avorking out of his peculiar destiny. 
 
 About this period, Washington was withdrawn for 
 a brief season from the sphere of his new duties. The 
 health of his brother became so pi-ecarious, that med- 
 ical advisers recommended an excursion to a difierent 
 climate ; and the company of some kind friend bemg 
 required to cheer and sustain the invalid on his voyage, 
 the fraternal afiection of the boy-major prompted him 
 to undertake the office. The atmosphere of 'a West 
 India island being considered most likely to act as a 
 restorative, Barbadoes was fixed upon. During the 
 voyage thither, Washington busily occupied himself 
 with making observations and increasing his knowl- 
 edge ; and on an October day they arrived at their 
 destination. 
 
 Hardly could any prospect be more pleasing than 
 that which arrested the eyes of the travelers, as, after 
 being confined for five tedious weeks to the narrow 
 limits of a trader, they anchored in the bay, the still- 
 ness of whose waters Avas only broken by the sailing 
 of the dreaded shark, or by the tropical breeze which 
 played lightly around, and gratefully modified the 
 warmth of the sun, as it descended with merciless
 
 WASHINGTON. 21 
 
 glow upon their strawy head-pieces. Before them 
 lay the cliief town, circling around the silver strand, 
 and shrouded in palm trees that fringed the blue 
 waters of the ocean. In the background, fields of 
 the sugar-cane, planters' airy mansions, the tall wind- 
 mills, and the negro-huts bosomed in the evergreen 
 and luxuriant foliage of the tropics — having the ap- 
 pearance of scattered villages — presented a scene, pic- 
 turesque, attractive, and promising delightful journeys 
 to the curious stranger. Nor was Washington disap- 
 pointed in that respect. Every thing came under his 
 notice, and enlisted his sagacious reflection. The soil, 
 methods of culture, and the agricultural productions, 
 engaged his attention no less than the manners of 
 the inhabitants, their military force, their form of 
 government, and their municipal institutions. While 
 thus profitably employed he was laid prostrate' by a 
 sharp attack of small-pox, which confined him to the 
 house for weeks ; but with skillful medical treatment 
 he was released from this doubly-dull durance, and 
 enabled to resume his habits of gaining experience 
 and collecting information. 
 
 Meantime the health of his brother had, at first, 
 improved rapidly. Change of air and novelty of scene 
 had produced a salutary impression ; they invigorated 
 his frame and revived his spirits : but the symptoms 
 of decay speedily re-appearing he proceeded to Ber- 
 muda. Washington then embarked for Virginia, to 
 execute the kindly duty of conduclino- his sister-in-law
 
 22 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 to her expiring hu&band ; but ere arrangements could 
 be made for that purpose, the latter was on the sea, 
 and he soon after breathed his last under his own 
 roof. The melancholy task of attending to the affairs 
 of a departed relative, so near and dear, now devolved, 
 upon "Washington, and for months he applied to the 
 estate the sound sense and accurate investigation 
 which ever characterized the great self-taught soldier 
 and statesman in dealing with weightier affairs. 
 
 In the interval the sphere of his public duties had 
 been enlarged and extended. The colony had, for 
 purposes of defense, been divided into four grand dis- 
 tricts ; Washington's commission was then renewed, 
 and the northern portion was confided to his steady 
 care and untiring vigilance. This included several 
 counties, each of which he had to visit periodically. 
 The duties were quite in harmony with his taste and 
 temper, and he discharged them with an energy and 
 an enthusiasm which were not lost on those over 
 whom he was appointed to exercise control, and among 
 whom he had to insure discipline. Still he had not 
 arrived even at that time of life when the generality 
 of mortals are charitably supposed to have reached 
 " years of discretion." 
 
 Events were now speeding to a crisis. Intelligence 
 aiTived that the French had crossed the lakes from 
 Canada, and were preparing to estabhsh posts and 
 fortifications on the Ohio river. On receiving these 
 alanning reports, the Virginian governor, having re-
 
 WASHINGTON. 23 
 
 solved to send an officer commissioned to inquire by 
 what right they thus intruded on the Enghsh domin- 
 ions, selected Washington, as peculiarly fitted to exe- 
 cute the duty with faith, discretion, and delicacy. 
 Accordingly, about the close of 1753, he departed 
 with suitable credentials and the requisite powers from 
 Williamsburg, the seat of government ; and with a 
 retinue of eight persons, two of whom were to act as 
 interpreters, he, after much toil and trouble, arrived 
 at the French head-quarters. There he was courte- 
 ously received and entertained by the commandant, 
 a Knight of the Order of St. Louis. Immediate at- 
 tention was promised to the subject of his mission, and 
 in due time an answer, indicative of firmness and 
 hostility, was granted to the remonstrance of his ex- 
 cellency the governor. Washington then retraced his 
 steps, through trackless forests, over rugged mount- 
 ains, and by swollen floods ; making several liaii'- 
 breadth escapes by land and water. During the ex- 
 pedition he had found frequent opportunities of extend- 
 ing his knowledge of Indian manners and customs ; 
 and he had been escorted to the French camp by an 
 influential personage, bearing the title of" Half King." 
 While returning, his journey was agreeably diversified 
 by a visit to Glueen Alliquippa, an Indian princess ; 
 no doubt, like the charming but hapless Yarico, ap- 
 pareled in beautiful shells, and possessed of wild graces. 
 She maintained her state at the junction of two rivers, 
 and had expressed her displeasure at the representa-
 
 \ 
 
 24 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 tive of the British king having failed to show her any 
 proper mark of respect on his way out ; but a poUte 
 apology and a substantial present soothed her wounded 
 pride and ruffled dignity, and secured the young envoy 
 a gracious dismissal. Twelve months later the dusky 
 sovereign lady was under the necessity of placing her- 
 self and her son under his protection, when driven 
 from her royal residence by the French troops. 
 
 After an absence of three months, Washington pre- 
 sented himself to the governor, and reported the result 
 of his mission. In order to fire the patriotic enthusi- 
 asm of the colonists, the journal of his adventures was 
 forthwith published. It appeared in all the provincial 
 papers, and was reprinted in England by order of the. 
 government. 
 
 War was now imminent, and preparations were 
 imperative upon the authorities. The governor was 
 a wary Caledonian, and surrounded by a knot of his 
 countrymen, who took care that in his appointments 
 he did full justice to their claims ; but, at the same 
 time, he exhibited much zeal for the honor of the 
 vice-regal office, and becoming ardor for the dignity 
 of the British Crown. His schemes were, however, 
 subject to be provokingly thwarted by the members 
 of the local legislature, who manifested a republican 
 spirit by no means agreeable to his loyal and patriotic 
 sentiments. Hence he found considerable difficulty in 
 making such arrangements for defense as he deemed 
 necessary for the safety of English interests- Never-
 
 WASHINGTON. 25 
 
 theless, he succeeded in embodying a force to repel the 
 invaders ; and Washington having ah-eady, by his 
 high courage and admirable conduct, proved his rare 
 capacity for military business, was promoted to the 
 rank of lieutenant-colonel, and nominated second in 
 command. He immediately marched, with his new 
 authority, to the Alleghany Mountains, and being joined 
 by parties of those Indians who were favorable to the 
 English, he commenced skirmishing with the enemy. 
 In one sharp fray the leader of the hostile party was 
 killed, and his men ibrced to yield. But in another 
 encounter, at a place known as the Great Meadows, 
 where he had thrown up an intrenchment, and called 
 it Fort Necessity, Washington was, after a conflict of 
 nine hours, obliged to capitulate. Then marching 
 out, with flying colors and drums beating, he retreated 
 to Williamsburg. His praiseworthy conduct during 
 the campaign elicited high applause from the gov- 
 ernor, and was rewarded with public thanks, conveyed 
 through the House of Assembly. Next year he found 
 himself in a somewhat awkward predicament. The 
 forces being organized on a new system, he had to 
 choose between being reduced to the rank of captain, 
 and placed under officers whom he had previously 
 commanded, or leaving the army. Without hesitation 
 he resigned his commission, and spent the winter in 
 retirement. 
 
 Early in the sprmg, however, he emerged from his 
 retreat, and consented, while retaining his former rank.
 
 26 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 to accompany General Braddock as a volunteer. He 
 was received vi^ith flattering respect, and prepared to 
 take part in the expedition against Fort Duquesne ; 
 vi^lien, unfortunately, he M^as prostrated by a fever, 
 which rendered his consignment to the baggage- wagon 
 and the physician's care a matter of necessity : but 
 he was sufficiently recovered in a fortnight to bear 
 arms in the bloody battle of the Monongahela. Beau- 
 tifid and impressive was the array of British troops on 
 that memorable morning as the little army marched 
 in order, with high hopes and ardent anticipations, 
 the sun gleaming on their burnished arms. On one 
 side was a flowing river, and on the other a shadowy 
 forest. Suddenly, at noon, ere the rear had well 
 crossed at a ford, they were attacked with fatal dex- 
 terity — the foe firing at a distance from behind trees, 
 and practicing all the stratagems of Indian warfare. 
 The general, disdaining to imitate such tactics, was 
 mortally wounded ; his two aides-de-camp were dis- 
 abled ; sixty-three out of eighty-six officers were killed 
 and wounded ; seven hundred private soldiers met 
 with similar fates : but Washington seemed to have 
 a charmed life. He rode about in all directions, and 
 exerted himself with the utmost courage. He was a 
 conspicuous mark for the enemy's sharp-shooters, and 
 four bullets went through his coat ; yet, though his 
 companions fell in heaps around, he escaped unhurt. 
 The nut-brown riflemen, old and young, singled him 
 out ; but with as little effect as, at Torquilstone, the
 
 WASHINGTON. 27 
 
 arrows of the English archers had on the Milan steel 
 of the hold leader of free lances. The idea of preter- 
 natural protection occurred to their superstitious im- 
 aginations ; and as the Scottish Covenanters believed 
 that General Dalziel possessed a diabolical charm 
 against steel, and that Claverhouse was guaranteed 
 against lead by the enemy of mankind, so the Indian 
 warriors concluded that Washington was under the 
 especial guardianship of the Great Spirit, and they 
 ceased their efforts to slay him. Thus, although the 
 day was most disastrous, he gained much praise by 
 the valor, energy, and resolution he had exhibited 
 throughout. He was instanced, even in pulpits, as 
 preserved by a wise Providence to confer some signal 
 benefit on his country ; his public reputation rose 
 high ; the Legislature voted him a sum of money for 
 his services ; and when the local regiment was in- 
 creased to sixteen companies, he was nominated their 
 commander-in-chief Being now intrusted with re- 
 sponsible functions, he devoted himself to the fulfill- 
 ment of them with much care and foresight ; and he 
 procured the passing of a law to insure proper regu- 
 larity and discipline. While thus gravely occupied, 
 he had a dispute concerning precedence with an offi- 
 cer holding King George's commission ; and in order 
 to solve the dithculty, which was at once vexations 
 and perplexing, he had to undertake a journey to Bos- 
 ton, to obtain the opinion of General Shirley, com- 
 mander of His Majesty's forces in America, who un-
 
 28 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 hesitatingly decided the point in Washington's favor, 
 and held serious and important conversation with him 
 as to the plan of operations for the next campaign. 
 Much curiosity was evinced, in the places through 
 which he passed, to see the individual who had, at 
 the early age of twenty-three, Avon so much renown 
 for his bravery, and who was regarded as remarkable 
 for the escape he had recently made. And there he 
 was — a gallant and dignified cavalier, rather more 
 than six feet in height, with long limbs, and a slen- 
 der but erect and well-proportioned form — making an 
 equestrian excursion of five hundred miles in the depth 
 of winter, with two trusty comrades. He remained 
 for some time at New York ; and while there he had 
 to encounter in a family circle — the most perilous of 
 all arenas — a blooming damsel, whose charms, more 
 eflfectual than the bullets of Indians, penetrated to his 
 heart, and made so deep an impression that, after go- 
 ing to Boston, he returned and lingered till called 
 away by the stern voice of duty. Doubtless reciprocal 
 emotions fluttered in the gentle breast of the attrac- 
 tive nymph ; but, as usual, the course of his loA^e did 
 not run quite smoothly : his hopes blossomed but to 
 die. In a few months he was informed that a formi- 
 dable rival was in the field, and the citadel in the ut- 
 most danger. Besides, it was intimated that, if he 
 wished to save the coveted prize, he must make his 
 appearance forthwith. Washington, absorbed with 
 " the harsh duties of severe renown," or despairing of
 
 WASHINGTON. 29 
 
 success, failed to comply with this friendly suggestion ; 
 the fair lady — a "cynosure of neighboring eyes" — did 
 not, perhaps, excessively relish his apparent coolness; 
 and liis lucky competitor, being thus in undisputed 
 possession of the ground, marched onward, with iiyuig 
 colors, to a connubial triumph. 
 
 Our hero, however, was not idle. If, like the rival 
 of young Lochinvar, he had been " a laggard in love," 
 he was no "dastard in war." The army had, on his 
 return, received a considerable augmentation ; and 
 though the nature of his operations was unfavorable 
 to the acquisition of much martial glory, he excited 
 respect and admiration by the signal ability and ui- 
 genious resource he constantly displayed. Yet in mod- 
 ern, no less than in ancient times, abuse and calumny 
 are essential parts of triumph ; and they were now 
 busy with the character and career of the successful 
 young soldier. Some vituperative rumors were, it is 
 stated, finally traced to the intrigues of the wily Scots, 
 who clustered in ambitious expectancy, and in a " dark 
 impenetrable ring," around their consanguineous gov- 
 ernor. The excellent qualities of Washington's heart, 
 his sensible modesty and honest frankness, Vi'ere the 
 best antidotes to the poison ; but the labors attaching 
 to his office were so arduous, that his health gave 
 way ; his physician insisted on a temporary retire- 
 ment ; and betaking himself to his estate, he under- 
 went a feverish ilhiess, which preyed upon him for 
 months.
 
 30 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 On recovering his strength, Washington resumed 
 his mihtary career. The accession of Mr. Pitt, after- 
 ward the great Earl of Cliatham, to the Enghsh min- 
 istry, had inspired hfe and vigor into the struggle ; a 
 new expedition against Fort Duquesne was planned ; 
 and the place falling into the hands of the British 
 troops, was named Fort Pitt, in honor of the mighty 
 War Minister. When this happened, Washington re- 
 signed his command and returned to Virginia, as he 
 had previously resolved to do in case of the enterprise 
 being crowned with victory. 
 
 His allections, twice batBed in their objects, were 
 now to find the peace and repose not seldom, even in 
 the case of men of strong minds, essential to the achieve- 
 ment of great and memorable actions. Mrs. Custis, 
 a widow lady, at this time resided in the vicinity of 
 the provincial capital . She was still in the bloom of 
 youth, gayety, and beauty, distinguished by wealth, 
 affability, and attractions, and dignified with the ma- 
 ternity of two children. Besides, she possessed in rare 
 perfection the domestic graces and accomplishments 
 which, in the opinion of persons whom experience has 
 divested of glowing romance, constitute the true fas- 
 cination of woman. This flower of the female sex 
 was, indeed, a beuig too captivating not to have 
 wooers ; and amidst social life and festive enjoyments 
 few, perhaps, could have perused her various charms 
 without admiration. Washington's noble bearing and 
 sage conversation could hardly fail to make an im-
 
 WASHINGTON. 31 
 
 pressioii on the gentle heart which her fair form en- 
 shrined. He came, saw, and conquered ; and, in the 
 beginning of 1759, they were happily united. Being 
 now in possession of quiet leisure, AYashington, with 
 his rhatroiily bride, settled at Mount Vernon, to which 
 he had succeeded since the decease of his brother. 
 The tranquil mansion-house was a most agreeable 
 residence. In front was a spacious lawn, bounded 
 by blossomuig orchards and pleasant gardens, which 
 reposed in the shade of thriving trees, and were wa- 
 tered by the broad and deep Potomac. The domestic 
 habits of the owner of the domain were uniform, and 
 characterized by a regularity from which he seldom 
 deviated. He rose vdth the sun, and retired early to 
 rest. His attention was chiefly given to agriculture, 
 in which, in accordance with a strong natural incli- 
 nation, he had always taken a lively interest. His 
 land was devoted, for the most part, to the growth of 
 tobacco, which he exported to be sold in the English 
 markets. The life of an ordinary Virginia planter 
 was, at that date, somewhat monotonous. He lived 
 during the whole year on his own land, which, in most 
 cases, lay so near some of the large rivers that ships 
 sailed almost to his door, and received the produce of 
 his farm to swell the imports into distant emporiums. 
 In practicing hospitality, he was generally so profuse 
 that inns were utterly useless. Weary wayfarers, 
 even without introduction, had only to call at the 
 nearest proprietor's house, with the certainty of being
 
 32 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 heartily welcomed and cheerfully entertained. He 
 might not indeed be, and seldom was, rolling in wealth ; 
 but that point the guest would soon hear explained 
 with emphasis. Every colonist availed himself of 
 his privilege as a British subject to complain loudly 
 that British merchants, by some process or other, con- 
 trived to appropriate the better part of his just profits ; 
 and even Washington, however diflerent from his neigh- 
 bors in other respects, scrutinized accounts with a sharp- 
 ness which shows that he was not altogether without 
 his suspicions. 
 
 The hospitality of the great colonial soldier was dis- 
 played on a scale of magnificence which must have 
 tended to relieve the dullness ; and when at home, he 
 seldom allowed a day to pass without having visitors 
 of intelligence and distinction. Moreover, he had a 
 keen relish for field-sports. He hunted, at the proper 
 season, twice or thrice a- week ; was fond of the excite- 
 ment and recreation which a fox-chase afforded ; was 
 familiar with the use of his fowling-piece ; signalized 
 his expertness against the game which abounded in 
 his preserved grounds, and fought as courageously in 
 an affray with poachers as he had ever done in a bat- 
 tle with the French. He was always eager to be 
 useful, and took a particular interest in the affiiirs of 
 his parish. He was recognized by the people in his 
 neighborhood as a man of extraordinary candor and 
 judgment ; insomuch that when they became involved 
 in quarrels, which there appeared no prospect of other-
 
 WASHINGTON. 33 
 
 wise settling amicably, they were in the habit of re- 
 sorting to him as a last appeal, and submitting the 
 case to his reason, justice, and decision, just as his 
 school-fellows had done in other days : 
 
 '• His doom contending neighbors sought — 
 Content with equity unbought." 
 
 Indeed, his wish to act without fear, favor, or aflection, 
 when thus consulted, and to promote peace and con- 
 cord, was so evident, that few uttered an audible 
 murmur against his arbitration. 
 
 On relinquishing his military employment, he had 
 been relumed as a member of the House of Burgesses, 
 and for a period of fifteen years was successful at each 
 election. It was a rule with him through life to exe- 
 cute with unflinching diligence any duty he under- 
 took ; and as a representative his attendence was 
 punctual and exemplaiy in the extreme. He seldom 
 spoke ; he had no longing for oratorical conflict, and 
 altogether refrained from entering into stormy discus- 
 sions ; but his acute perception, earnest judgment, and 
 sage prescience, gave him an influence in the assembly 
 which his wordy, brawling, and disputatious compeers 
 struggled and strove for in vain. He was in the habit 
 of studying attentively, and forming opinions with 
 scrupulous impartiality on the chief subjects under 
 deliberation. In this respect, Nunqiimn non paratus 
 might have been his motto. Thus, when the Stamp 
 Act was imposed on the colonies by Mr. Grenville, he 
 at once assumed a position of antagonism to the inflic- 
 C
 
 34 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 tion, and concurred witli firmness and determination 
 in the measures of opposition adopted by America. 
 From this, and his higli reputation, he was chosen 
 to command the independent companies of mihtia 
 which the colonists had hitherto been privileged and 
 encouraged to raise ; he was sent as a delegate to the 
 Virginia Convention, and afterward elected as a mem- 
 ber of the general Congress, in whose proceedings he 
 acted a promincnit and influential part. 
 
 When the second Congress assembled, in 1775, it 
 presented an array of " fierce faces threatening war." 
 Blood had already been shed ; at Lexuigton had com- 
 menced that contest which, with few intermissions, 
 lasted for eight years. The English crown was, at a 
 perilous crisis, found without competent advisers ; 
 Wisdoin cried aloud in public places, without being 
 regarded ; and American senators openly and boister- 
 ously invoked the God of battles. Civil strife, fierce 
 and bloody, was inevitable ; and in this emergency 
 Washington was chosen Commander-in-chief of the 
 forces raised to carry on the momentous struggle. Yet 
 it can not be supposed that this great man contem- 
 plated a separation from the mother-country without 
 a pang. Even Jefierson, at this date, declared that 
 in the whole empire there was no individual who 
 more cordially loved the union with Great Britain 
 than himself; and hardly any one competent to form 
 an opinion on such a subject can conceive that Wash- 
 ington, who had given such tokens of patriotism, was
 
 WASHINGTON. 35 
 
 less loyal in his sentiments. His forefathers had fought 
 on famous fields, and in walled cities, for the crown 
 of England ; he himself had won his laurels under her 
 lion-flag against her hereditary enemies ; and he was, 
 moreover, a man of faith, breeding, and refinement. 
 With such a person, considerations of such a nature 
 are not readily banished or suppressed, and there can 
 be little doubt that his patriot soul was often tossed 
 with contending emotions ; like the Saxon nobles whom 
 the Conqueror, with fire and sword, drove into the 
 Scottish territory, who felt no respect for the Norman 
 line of kings, but whose hearts lingered about the 
 scenes where their progenitors had held sway and 
 created civilization. The tastes and associations of 
 Washington might well have led him, had an option 
 been granted, to side with the imperial cause. But the 
 course pursued by Lord North, who, as a statesman, 
 ever displayed more wit than wisdom, and whom 
 neither the sagacious w^arnings of Burke nor the vehe- 
 ment declamation of Chatham could awaken from a 
 sleepy stupidity, left him no choice. He believed that 
 his native plains must either be drenched in blood or 
 inhabited by slaves ; he regarded it as a sad alterna- 
 tive : but he did not falter or hesitate in his course. 
 With engaging diffidence in his own powers he ac- 
 cepted the responsible position offered ; and repairmg 
 to Cambridge, where the insurgent army lay, he pro- 
 ceeded to remodel and improve it to the best of his 
 ability. In the interval Bunker's Hill had been fought.
 
 36 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 The victory remained with the LoyaUsts ; but the 
 engagement had convinced them that the foe was not 
 to be despised. Subsequent events fully confirmed this 
 opmion ; and General Howe being under the necessity 
 of abandoning Boston, Washington was received by the 
 inhabitants with significant enthusiasm. 
 
 Soon after, the Declaration of Independence was 
 published ; but events inauspicious to the cause of the 
 colonists now came ouM'ard in rapid succession. The 
 defeat at Long Island filled their ranks with such 
 dismay and consternation as put their general's invin- 
 cible resolution to a severe test. Ne\v York was 
 straightway relinquished by them, with considerable 
 loss ; a defeat was sustamed at Chatterton's Hill ; 
 Fort Washington was lost ; and General Lee was 
 taken prisoner. This was a period to try the souls of 
 those who had taken up arms against taxation with- 
 out representation. Their operations had proved un- 
 expectedly disastrous ; their army had melted away 
 till it seemed but a shadow of its former self ; pardon 
 had been proclaimed in the King's name to all who 
 would return to their allegiance. Many persons of 
 wealth, consideration, and respectability, especially 
 yeomen of strength and substance, had accepted it on 
 the offered terms ; but Washington remained firm and 
 decided. His fortitude might not inaptly be compared 
 to that house against which the waves beat, and the 
 rain came, and the winds blew, but wliich fell not, 
 for it was founded on a rock. He calmly represented
 
 WASHINGTON. 37 
 
 to Congress the plight to which he was reduced ; and 
 the crisis being such as to silence all querulous opposi- 
 tion, neither the whisper of envy nor the voice of dis- 
 content was heard. Even timidity was overcome by 
 fear. Indeed the members appear to have been ani- 
 mated by views similar to those which the elder con-1 
 sul, " an ancient man and wise," is made to express 
 when the thirty armies are described as on their way 
 to Rome : 
 
 " In seasons of great peril 
 
 'Tis good that one bear sway ; 
 Then choose we a*Dicfator, 
 Whom all men shall obey." 
 
 And, accordingly, Washington was wisely invested 
 with supreme authority and dictatorial powers. The 
 army was completely reorganized ; and its dauntless, 
 but firm and prudent leader, resolved to cross the 
 Delaware, and attack the foes on their own ground. 
 On a December night he assailed and defeated them 
 at Trenton ; and pursuing his advantage, he gained 
 an important victory at Princeton. Next year, how- 
 ever, the fortune of war again changed, and Wash- 
 ington fought unsuccessfully at the fords of the Brandy- 
 wine and at the village of Germantown. In the 
 former of these actions Lafayette, inspired with burn- 
 ing zeal for the American cause, displayed his courage 
 as a volunteer, and was wounded in the leg while 
 dismounting to rally the retreating troops by his voice 
 and example. 
 
 Ere long the French king recognized the independ- 
 
 d.'^i Qf^fi
 
 38 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 ence of the United States by a formal treaty ; a battle 
 was fouf^ht at Monmouth with partial success ; and 
 a Prencfi squadron arrived to aid the new allies of 
 the Bourbons. Nevertheless, an assault made by the 
 combined forces on Rhode Island proved a failure ; 
 and a projected expedition against Canada came to 
 naught. An intended attack on New York had a 
 similar termination, and a mutiny among the troops 
 filled the public mind with alarm and consternation. 
 Still the clear spirit of Washington rose superior to 
 adversity, and his deep determination was not to be 
 shaken by disaster. 
 
 Afiairs, indeed, seemed now to be hastening to a 
 crisis ; but as the year 1781 advanced, they began to 
 wear a more favorable aspect. The cheering news 
 was brought by a French frigate that powerful assist- 
 ance might be calculated on ; and a combined attack 
 was planned against New York, but relinquished owing 
 to intelligence in regard to the sailing of the promised 
 auxiliaries from St. Domingo. \Yhen they at length 
 arrived, York Town, in Virginia, was besieged by the 
 allied forces, and Lord Cornwallis obliged to surrender. 
 
 It now became evident that the unhappy war was 
 approaching its termination ; and the American army, 
 with a prospect of being disbanded, began to complain 
 of grievances. Besides, many of the officers looked 
 with so little favor on republican institutions, that, 
 wishing for some more vigorous form of government, 
 they deputed one of their number to convey to Wash-
 
 WASHINGTON. 39 
 
 ington the suggestion, that they were not averse to 
 his thoughtful brow being begirt with a diadem. He 
 rebuked the idea with stern indignation, and requested 
 that it might never again be alkided to. 
 
 In the spring of 1763, intelligence arrived that a 
 treaty of peace had been signed at Paris, and that the 
 independence of the United States had been acknowl- 
 edged by the British Government. Shortly afterAvard, 
 a cessation of hostilities was announced, and arrange- 
 ments were made for the evacuation of New York. 
 On a November morning, the English troops finally 
 embarked ; a long procession, with Washington at its 
 head, made formal entry and took posse.ssion of the 
 city. At his side — followed by the provincial func- 
 tionaries, officers, senators, and citizens — rode the gov- 
 ernor, who closed the proceedings of the memorable 
 day with a costly banquet. Yet, however flattering 
 to their pride as a new nation, the ceremony was not 
 altogether unsuggestive of melancholy considerations. 
 The chief, the greatest, the most conspicuous actor in 
 it, must have been conscious of mixed feelings ; and 
 it was natural that, a few days later, when parting 
 with his warlike associates, his emotion should have 
 been visible. He had conducted a great civil war ; 
 he had triumphed where the most sanguine might, 
 without reproach have despaired ; and he had through- 
 out, without an interval, exhibited high mental dig- 
 nity. He had earned the position of a prince, and 
 the proud title of " Father of his country ," won for
 
 40 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 himself glorious renown, and achieved national inde- 
 pendence for millions. But it was impossible to look 
 for a moment to the future, enveloped as it then was 
 in uncertainty, without recollecting: — perhaps not 
 without a sigh — that America was no longer a portion 
 of that mighty empire on which the sun never sets ; 
 reared by Saxon sagacity, and sustained by Norman 
 valor ; constituted by the toil of the wise, and conse- 
 crated by the blood of the brave ; and to whose im- 
 memorial institutions he had lately been as much at- 
 tached as the inhabitants of Kent or Northumberland. 
 When Washington resigned the command of that 
 army with which he had outmanoeuvred the tactics 
 of successive generals, and brought a war with the 
 most powerful nation in the world to a triumphant 
 issue, he was still in his fifty-first year ; but he had 
 a right to believe that his long and continuous services 
 entitled him to repose. He had affluence and station ; 
 he did not covet power ; and he looked forward to the 
 enjoyment of calm, contemplative retirement, till, in 
 God's appointed time, he should sleep with his fathers. 
 He therefore went to Mount Vernon, devised schemes 
 of internal navigation for developing the resources and 
 extending the commerce of the country, and seems 
 even to have indulged in prophetic visions of that vast 
 trade which has since crowded the docks of Liverpool 
 and stocked the warehouses of Manchester. It was 
 then that he had the satisfaction of welcoming the 
 visit of Lafayette, M'hose friendship he highly es-
 
 WASHINGTON. 41 
 
 teemed, and whose former services lie duly apprecia- 
 ted. They parted Avith mutual regret ; never to 
 meet again. 
 
 While planting his grounds, pruning his fruit-trees, 
 improving his property, receiving complimentary vis- 
 its, answering courteous congratulations, and prepar- 
 ing peacefully to descend the pathway of life, under 
 the shadow of his OAvn vine and fig-tree — envious of 
 none, and determined to be pleased with all — Wash- 
 ington became painfully aware that the system of 
 government then existing did not meet the wishes 
 and requirements of the American public. Indeed, 
 some were so apprehensive of fatal consequences, that 
 they were gradually inspired with the desire of receiv- 
 ing, from among the royal families of Europe, a prince 
 who should wear a crown, exercise sovereign sway, 
 and control the conflicting elements then making them- 
 selves felt for evil. To pour oil on the troubled wa- 
 ters, a Convention was appointed to devise a form of 
 government calculated to give general satisfaction. 
 Washington was chosen chairman ; and, as such, af- 
 fixed his name to the new constitution, which, though 
 not coming up to the perfection of ideal theories, was 
 ratified by the States and adopted by the people. 
 
 This scheme — in regard to which Franklin said, 
 " I consent to it, because I expect no better, and be- 
 cause I am not sure it is not the best ; the opinions I 
 have of its errors I sacrifice to the public good" — pro- 
 vided for the election of a President. On this being
 
 12 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 known, all eyes were turned toward Washington, as 
 the personage in every respect best qualified, by rank, 
 station, and dignity, to occupy the eminence. His 
 mind was, indeed, so tinged with the old leaven of 
 aristocracy, that, in respect to military officers, he had 
 requested that none but gentlemen should be consid- 
 ered qualified ; but experience had taught him confi- 
 dence in the aspirations of a free people. Every thing 
 conspired to fit him to appear as the representative of 
 various parties, to check the prevalence of extreme 
 opinions, and to "stay the plague both ways." When 
 the day appointed for the important business arrived, 
 he was unanimously elected ; and yielding with un- 
 feigned reluctance to the public voice, he became the 
 first President of the United States. In this trj'ing 
 situation, his singleness of purpose and stainless in- 
 tegrity shone forth M'ith unparalleled lustre. He ruled 
 in truth and sincerity — not to aggrandize himself, but 
 to benefit liis countr)'. Though ungifted with the 
 brilliant qualities which dazzle an ambitious people, 
 and disdaining the demagogic arts too often employed 
 *o mislead them — his sound judgment, steady mind, 
 and powerful understanding, enabled him to deal with 
 the difficulties he had to encounter, and avoid or re- 
 move the obstacles that came in his way. He piloted 
 the vessel he had launched through troublous times. 
 With a firm hand and a bold heart he maintained the 
 balance between the contending factions, exhibited a 
 resolution not to be overcome or overawed, and in
 
 WASHINGTON. 43 
 
 1796 retired from the position to which he had im- 
 parted dignity with the respect, sympathy, and vener- 
 ation of all parties and all nations. 
 
 This great, intrepid, and admirable man, went down 
 to his grave in peace and honor in the year 1799, leav- 
 ing to his country and mankind a glorious heritage, 
 in a name unsullied by crime or rapacity, and an ex- 
 ample to be held in everlasting remembrance by all 
 future generations.
 
 BURKE. 
 
 The knowledge of Burke was of the most profound, 
 various, and extensive kind ; and his excellence in 
 almost every species of prose composition conducted 
 him to an eminent rank among writers. Moreover, 
 his fame as an orator and statesman is not inferior to 
 that of any man who ever appeared upon the theatre 
 of political affairs ; and he is justly entitled to the 
 credit of having formed and sustained his vast reputa- 
 tion by genius, energy, and resolution. His own fear- 
 less pen has recorded, for the edification of posterity, 
 that he possessed not one of the qualities, nor culti- 
 vated one of the arts, that recommend aspiring intel- 
 lect to the favor of the powerful ; he was not made 
 for a minion or a tool ; and he did not follow the 
 trade of winning the hearts by imposing on the under- 
 standings of the people. At every step in his life he 
 was traversed and opposed ; and at every turnpike he 
 was obliged to show his passport, and prove a title to 
 the honor of serving his country. The memory of 
 such a person surely merits a larger share of popular 
 attention than it has hitherto received. 
 
 According to biographers, the family of Burke, 
 which was ennobled in several of its branches, coidd
 
 BURKE RKAUING TO HIri MOTHEP
 
 BURKE. 47 
 
 boast of ancient lineage and a respectable position. 
 His grandfather is stated to have been proprietor of 
 a considerable estate, which was inherited and dis- 
 posed of by the illustrious individual who made the 
 name familiar to England and Europe. This fine old 
 Irish gentleman resided near Limerick ; but his son, 
 having been educated to the profession of the law, 
 carried on a very large business as an attorney in the 
 city of Dublin. There, on the 1st of January, 1730, 
 Edmund Burke entered upon his checkered and extra- 
 ordinary existence ; yet liardly any event could have 
 appeared more improbable than that the child then 
 born on Arran (iuay should, as years rolled on, be- 
 come " the philosopher of one era, and the prophet of 
 the next." 
 
 From the circumsta^es of his birth Burke was not 
 subjected to the disadvantage of a deficient education, 
 nor to that of being destined for pursuits uncongenial 
 to the bent of his mind. His academic course was, 
 indeed, such as qualified him for the career he was 
 appointed to run. Being of a delicate frame he was 
 not sent to school at the usual early age, but taught 
 to read by his mother, a woman of cultivated intel- 
 lect. Ere long, country air being thought necessary 
 for his health, he was removed from the Irish capital 
 to the house of some relations at CastletoAvn Roclie ; 
 and there he was placed, for initiation into Latin, at 
 the village seminary. In this situation he pursued 
 his studies with juvenile enthusiasm for several years,
 
 48 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 and then went home for a brief period, during which 
 he was under pedagogic rule. Perhaps, however, a 
 residence under the paternal roof was not found ex- 
 cessively favorable to the mental development, and he 
 was entered at a classical academy in the county of 
 Kildare, kept by a worthy member of the Society of 
 Friends, for whom, in the midst of all his subsequent 
 triumphs, he retained a sincere and grateful respect. 
 On one occasion, during a parliamentary debate, Burke, 
 with becoming feeling, alluded to this old teacher as 
 " an honor to his sect ;" and, assuredly, it is no slight 
 compliment to be spoken of in such terms by the 
 greatest man of an age. 
 
 Meantime the youthful pupil applied himself to his 
 books with much ardor and exemplary industry. He 
 cared not to display his powqfs, but stored his mind 
 with that multifarious learning which, in many an 
 hour of oratorical conflict, furnished him with fine 
 thoughts, lofty sentiments, and noble imagery. His 
 superiorit-y among the boys at the establishment ap- 
 pears to have been duly recognized, and was pleas- 
 ingly exhibited in cases of emergency. Once, when 
 the assizes were held at Carlow, he proved his natural 
 versatility in a very amusing way. The master had, 
 with laudable good-humor, allowed his scholars to 
 have a holiday, on condition that the more advanced 
 among them should write, in Latin verse, a descrip- 
 tion of the procession, and the impressions which the 
 scene left on their minds. Burke executed the pre-
 
 BURKE. 49 
 
 scribed task with ability and fullness, and was, no 
 doubt, congratulating himself on having acquitted 
 himself with credit, when he was earnestly entreated 
 to prepare a second account of the pageant for a less 
 gifted class-fellow. Trusting to be supplied by his 
 petitioner with some slight hints for guidance in this 
 delicate and charitable efibrt at versification, the future 
 fashioner of statesmen questioned his comrade in re- 
 gard to what part of the ceremony had struck him as 
 most remarkable. 
 
 " Sure," replied the Hibernian urchin, scratching 
 his head, " I noticed nothing particular, but a fat piper 
 in a brown coat." 
 
 Dexterously availing himself of the idea thus stu- 
 pidly suggested, Burke, in a short time, produced a 
 humorous doggerel rhyme, commencing with 
 
 " Piper erat fattus, qui brownum tegmen habebat." 
 
 Though his rare faculties were proudly appreciated 
 by the learned Gluaker, who foretold they would ulti- 
 mately conduct their possessor to fame and fortune, it 
 is worthy of remark that Burke's gay, witty, and 
 vivacious brother, Richard, was generally regarded as 
 the more brilliantly endowed of the active attorney's 
 sons. The keen and anxious eye of their father, how- 
 ever, perceived the superior wisdom and energy that, 
 even at that date, animated the glowing breast of the 
 youth who was to stand forward as the terror of In- 
 dian oppressors, the champion of injured ladies, and 
 the marvel of Christendom. Indeed, sparks of the 
 D
 
 50 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 peculiar sympathy for the poor and desolate, which 
 breathes tlirough his pohtical discourses, already began 
 to flash forth with promising brightiress and warmth. 
 A humble cottager having been compelled to pull 
 down his httle tenement at the mandate of an impe- 
 rious road-surveyor, the young spirit of Bui'ke, who 
 indignantly witnessed the operation, broke out with 
 vehement scorn, and he emphatically declared that, 
 if ever he had authority in the realm, no man should, 
 with impunity, so treat the obscure and defenseless. 
 The boy is father to the man, and in after years, when 
 his renown was at its height, he said that his object 
 was not more to save the high from the blights and 
 spoliations of envy and rapacity, than the lowly from 
 the iron hand of oppression and the insolent spurn of 
 contempt. 
 
 In the spring of 1744 Burke was entered as a pen- 
 sioner at Trinity CoUege, Dublin. Two years later 
 he was elected a scholar of the house. To obtain the 
 latter distinction a candidate had to go through a suc- 
 cessful examination in the classics, before the provost 
 and senior fellows, after which he was entitled to a 
 small annuity, a vote for the representatives of the 
 University, and free chambers and commons for a 
 certain period. But it does not appear that Burke 
 generally sought opportunities of proving the might of 
 that genius which he must have felt to be m him. 
 On the contrary, he silently hoarded up that universal 
 information, which, in other days and in very differ-
 
 BURKE. 51 
 
 ent circumstances, he exhibited in forms so grand and 
 magnificent. Thus, when the proper time arrived, 
 he was able to speak or converse with eloquence and 
 correctness on almost any subject that presented itself. 
 He gave much attention to rhetoric, and improved his 
 mind by perpetual and sagacious reflection. While 
 at college his habits were quiet, his character unpre- 
 tending, and his conduct marked by regularity. 
 
 Burke had, long before leaving the Uruversity, been 
 enrolled as a student of law at the Middle Temple, 
 but he was in no particular haste to keep his terms. 
 It is even related that, while studying with zeal and 
 earnesf ness at home to improve his capacity and extend 
 his learning, he was induced to apply for the Logic 
 chair at Glasgow, but too late to gain his object. At 
 length, seeing no fair field for the exercise of his 
 talents in the land of his birth, he resolved to betake 
 himself to London, trusting to achieve for himself, by 
 ability and industry, a position of honor and independ- 
 ence. He had already devoted much time to accom- 
 plish himself in composition, and written several essays 
 to counteract the doctrines of a democratic Irish apoth- 
 ecary, whose daring lucubrations had won their author 
 considerable local fame. Thus were exercised the 
 rare strength and invincible courage in political con- 
 troversy which afterward enabled him to trample 
 many a potent and well-appointed adversary in the 
 dust. It might have been that his success in tliis 
 contest inspired him with the desire of signalizing his
 
 52 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 singular prowess in a wider field. At all events he 
 repaired to the English metropolis. 
 
 His journey thither was not undertaken without 
 feelings of sadness ; and his eyes often filled with 
 tears, as, after crossing the Channel, he was rolled 
 through a country ornamented with pleasant man- 
 sions, neat cottages, and villages, whose cheerful and 
 industrious appearanca he could not help contrasting 
 with the poverty of his native isle. Agriculture, he 
 says, was his favorite science, and would have been 
 his chosen pursuit if Providence had blessed his youth 
 with acres. He was, therefore, highly interested in, 
 and pleased with, its progress in the country he was 
 now adopting. 
 
 At the time of his arrival in London, Burke was by 
 no means unfitted, by knowledge or experience, to 
 struggle with advantage. His classical and philosoph- 
 ical acquirements were enormous, and he had no slight 
 conception of life and society. He was an eager ob- 
 server of mankind, and had seen enough of the gay 
 and fashionable while hanging on in Dublin to acquit 
 himself with propriety in any company to which his 
 marvelous conversational powers might procure him 
 access. His stories and anecdotes were characterized 
 by interest and variety. They did not lose any thing 
 in effect by the look and manner with which they 
 were set off, nor by the slight Irish accent, which to 
 the last was perceptible, especially in his colloquial 
 displays. Thus accomplished, he commenced his
 
 BURKE. 53 
 
 career of intellectual triumph by contributing to peri- 
 odicals ; thereby sharpening his wits and increasing 
 his intelligence. The character of Englishmen imme- 
 diately commanded his respect, and, celebrated as his 
 birth-place ever has been for its display of female 
 beauty, the graces of Englishwomen excited his enthu- 
 siastic admiration. He complained, indeed, that there 
 was less regard paid to men of letters than he had 
 been led to imagine, and that genius was in small 
 danger of being enervated by the patronage of power. 
 But he probably felt that his must in the end bear 
 him upward, in spite of every obstacle : so he strove 
 against discontent, and adhered steadfastly to habits 
 of temperance, keeping his glorious intellect unobscured 
 by the cloud which is certain to follow dissipation. 
 The buildings in the wonderful city of which he was 
 now an inhabitant, struck him as being very fine ; and 
 in good time, attracted, probably, by the descriptions 
 of Addison, he visited the edifices of Westminster. He 
 was deeply impressed with awe and veneration for 
 the sacredness and solemnity of the place, and thought 
 that sound and useful lessons might be learned from 
 the monuments. Indeed, it is not difficult to conceive 
 what fine thoughts and high imaginings must have 
 crossed the mind and irradiated the brain of Burke, as, 
 for the first time, he wandered through the venerable 
 Abbey, and perambulated that historic Hall, which, in 
 later days, was the scene of the most surpassmg eflbrt 
 of his genius.
 
 54 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 While earning a livelihood by literary labor, the 
 income of the brilliant aspirant was no doubt small ; 
 but his industry was unceasing. He produced essays 
 on various literary and political subjects for weekly 
 and daily publications, and he studied with singular 
 diligence. He usually read with a pen in his hand to 
 make notes, extracts, and reflections. His apprehen- 
 sion was peculiarly quick, and his memory retentive ; 
 and he could thus travel with rapidity over a wide 
 field. But it is impossible to work incessantly with- 
 out impairing the health. A somewhat severe iUiiess 
 caused him to resort, for medical advice, to Dr. Nugent, 
 a physician of skill and talent, who, considering that 
 proper care and attention were more likely to prove 
 beneficial than any medicine administered in the dust 
 and solitude of the Temple, kindly invited the invalid 
 to take up his quarters for a time under his roof. 
 Burke vidsely accepted the hcspitality thus offered. 
 
 During the restoration of his patient to health and 
 vigor, the Doctor fomid m his daughter an efficacious 
 assistant ; Burke found in her an amiable and agree- 
 able companion, who soon made an impression on his 
 heart. In such circumstances, even " the greatest 
 philosopher in action the world ever saw" acted like 
 other mortals ; he told his enamored tale, and they 
 were forthwith united. This step was most fortunate ; 
 the lady proved herself eminently worthy of his affec- 
 tion ; and when years had brought trouble and anxiety 
 in their train, her husband often declared, that all his
 
 BURKE. 55 
 
 racking cares departed whenever he crossed the thresh- 
 old of his own house. 
 
 Burke had now a double motive to exertion. Ani- 
 mated by that love of fame — 
 
 " Which the clear spirit doth raise 
 To scorn delights, and live laborious days." 
 
 and at the same time by that sense of duty which is 
 not the least laudable incitement to mental energy, 
 he applied himself to the production of some work that 
 might establish his name ; and accordingly liis " Vin- 
 dication of Natural Society," in which the writer 
 covertly, and with admirable effect, imitated the style 
 and principles of Boliugbroke, made its appearance. 
 The treatise exhibited much historical knowledge, ver- 
 satility of genius, and sagacity of mind ; but it failed 
 to meet with the sut;cess or notice which its ingenious 
 irony might have been expected to secure. It was 
 published in the year 1756, and soon followed by his 
 " Essay on the Subliine and Beautiful," which so much 
 pleased and delighted the author's father, that a re- 
 mittance of a hundred pounds was the consequence. 
 
 From this auspicious period Burke's celebrity and 
 importance may be dated ; and his reputation speedily 
 secured him a worthy position among men of letters 
 and eminence. Sir Joshua Reynolds sought his society ; 
 and at the hospitable mansion of the immortal painter 
 he formed the acquaintance of Dr. Johnson, who de- 
 clared his new friend to be the greatest man living. 
 "Take up whatever topic you will," he was in the
 
 56 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 habit of saying, " Burke is ready to meet you. If he 
 were to go into a stable and talk to the ostlers for a 
 short time, they would venerate him as the wisest of 
 human beings. No person of sense ever met him un- 
 der a gateway to avoid a shower who did not go away 
 convinced that he was the first man in England." 
 
 In the year 1764 Reynolds proposed the formation 
 of a club, which met at the Turk's Head, and soon 
 comprehended several of the most distinguished liter- 
 ary and pohtical characters of whom Great Britain 
 boasted. It long flourished without a name, but was 
 at length recognized as the Literary Club. One of 
 the nine original members was Oliver Goldsmith, who 
 had been a college contemporary of Burke, and after- 
 ward gone to study medicine in Edinburgh. He had 
 since traveled over much of the Continent, holding 
 learned disputations at the difierent Universities that 
 came in his way, where success entitled him to a din- 
 ner, a night's lodging, and a small sum of money. He 
 had now thrown himself into the republic of letters, 
 and much amused the brilliant circle at the Turk's Head 
 by his strange eccentricities and ludicrous blunders. 
 
 At their meetings Burke was found fully a match 
 for Johnson ; and it was observed, that he was almost 
 the only man living from wliom the huge sage would 
 bear contradiction. The subject of Bengal was some- 
 times under discussion ; and Burke, even at that pe- 
 riod, showed an extent and accuracy of information 
 in regard to it rarely to be met with.
 
 BURKE. 57 
 
 Burke had already projected and brought into oper- 
 ation the "Annual Register," which was for years 
 carried on under his sagacious inspection ; though 
 pohtical matters soon occupied so much of his atten- 
 tion that he had httie leisure for literary pursuits not 
 strictly comiected with afiairs of state : but his intro- 
 duction to public life was gradual. In the year 1759 
 he became acquainted with Singlcsjjecch Hamilton, 
 son of a Scottish advocate who had come to England 
 at the Union. This mysterious individual had, a short 
 while previously, made the solitary but successful 
 oratorical efibrt from which his nickname was de- 
 rived, in a debate long remembered as one of the 
 greatest in which the parliamentary personages of 
 that generation had partaken. In 1761 he went to 
 Ireland as Secretary to the Lord-lieutenant, and Burke 
 accompanied him as a friend and adviser. For his 
 services on this occasion the latter was granted a pen- 
 sion of £300 a year, which he sacrificed, after enjoy- 
 ing it for eighteen months, on his rupture with Hamilton. 
 
 Soon after making this sacrifice, which did not pre- 
 vent him tendering his aid and drawing his purse to 
 forward the interests of his whimsical countryman, 
 Barry the painter, Burke had the gratification of play- 
 ing a part in the political world. On the dismissal 
 of George Grenville from the head of afiairs, Lord 
 Rockingham, chief of the Whig magnates, was in- 
 trusted with the duty of forming an admunstration. 
 That nobleman, having been filled with admiration
 
 58 . FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 of Burke's occasional papers in the "Public Adver- 
 tiser," was led to desire the acquaintance of the writer, 
 who speedily became his private secretary, and mem- 
 ber of parliament for Wendover. He was, not, how- 
 ever, " swaddled, rocked, and dandled into a legisla- 
 tor." He set himself studiously to comprehend offi- 
 cial forms and parliamentary proceedings, used every 
 means to accomplish himself in voice and action — 
 with that view even frequenting the theatre to derive 
 hints and instruction from the tones, looks, and ges- 
 tures of Garrick. Both by solitary study and debating 
 at a society, he prepared himself to take an active 
 part in the business of the House of Commons. He 
 made his first speech on the bill for repealing the 
 American Stamp Act, with an eloquence which ex- 
 cited the admiration of all present, and evoked the 
 valuable praise of the great Earl of Chatham. Sir 
 John Hawkins expressed his amazement at the extra- 
 ordinary eminence to which Burke had suddenly as- 
 cended ; upon which Dr. Johnson said, 
 
 " Sir, there is nothing marvelous in it ; we who 
 know Burke feel sure that he will be one of the first 
 men in the countiy." 
 
 On the fall of the Rockingham ministry, to which 
 his genius had imparted some degree of dignity, Burke 
 wrote and circulated a plain and simple defense of its 
 measures. He soon after made an ironical reply to 
 his own pamphlet m the form of a letter, signed 
 " Whittington," and professing to be the production
 
 BURKE. 59 
 
 of a tallow-cliandler, who aspired to the office of lord- 
 mayor. In this epistle a severe attack was made on 
 the cabinet which Lord Chatham had just put together. 
 
 By this time Burke, from his intimacy with patri- 
 cian senators, was known and appreciated in the world 
 of fashion, where his talents and acquirements quali- 
 fied him to shine, in spite of those social demarcations 
 whose lines are not always justly drawn. He was an 
 especial favorite, and won golden opinions in the " blue- 
 stocking" circles ; and he was wisely careful not to 
 mortify the vanity nor incur the wrath of learned 
 ladies, by pointing out their errors or exposing their 
 fallacies. His position in Parhament was soon ascer- 
 tained and ere long recognized. On the very day 
 when he broke ground in the House of Commons, 
 the first Pitt addressed it for the last time, and men 
 were in doubt which of them was the more splendid 
 speaker. Ere two years had elapsed, Burke had estab- 
 lished his oratorical supremacy. 
 
 About this period a tract of Grenville's exhibited so 
 much ill-nature that the Rockingham party felt the 
 necessity of retaliating. Accordingly, Burke published 
 his " Observations on the Present State of the Nation." 
 The popular error that a man of genius can not deal 
 with practical matters as successfully as those who 
 are less richly endowed by nature, was the consolation 
 of mediocrity very much earlier than the days of 
 Burke, and from him it now met with a signal refu- 
 tation. He executed his task with complete triumph
 
 60 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 on eveiy point of consequence, and proved his mastery 
 over the dry, minute, financial, and statistical details, 
 which were supposed to form the stronghold and pecu- 
 liar province of his sharp but narrow-mmded adversaiy. 
 Burke had, ere this, purchased a pleasant villa near 
 Beaconsfield, in Buckinghamshire, where he could 
 enjoy rural privacy and rest his eye on lawns, woods, 
 meadows, and corn-fields. Attached to his residence 
 was land worth about six hundred a-year, of which 
 he retained the greater part in his own occupation, 
 that he might indulge in the satisfaction of farming. 
 Without adopting any expensive system, he proved 
 himself one of the most successful agriculturists in the 
 county. When living in to\Aai he had various articles 
 of produce carted up with his ovm stout nags, which 
 were employed one day to draw his carriage, and on 
 the next to plow the soil. As a country gentleman 
 he exerted himself to the utmost to ameliorate the con- 
 dition of the peasantry among whom he lived ; he was 
 daily earning their blessings by the schemes he devised 
 for their benefit. He planned various institutions for 
 enabling mechanics and laborers to save something 
 from their wages against the season of sickness, and 
 his hand was ever open as day to the poor or distressed. 
 Thus he won and enjoyed the respect and admiration 
 of the neighborhood. To his numerous guests his hos- 
 pitality was overflowing. He neither afiected style 
 nor studied display, but regaled them w.'th substantial 
 fare, and delighted them A\'ith cheerful and entertain-
 
 BURKE. 61 
 
 ing conversation. Among liis visitors he counted Dr. 
 Johnson, for whose talents and virtues he always ex- 
 pressed a sincere esteem, and by whose death-bed his 
 voice faltered with grief and emotion. 
 
 As one of the freeholders of Bucks, Burke drew up 
 a petition concerning the Middlesex election, which 
 was approved of by a county meeting, and presented 
 by him to Parliament. He likewise set forth his views 
 and opinions of the political affairs of the day, in a 
 treatise entitled " Thoughts on the Present Discon- 
 tents," wherein he advocated the claims of the great 
 Whig connection to the government of the empire. 
 In the House of Commons he maintained their inter- 
 ests with unrivaled eloquence ; he led their ranks, in 
 opposition to Lord North, during the American War ; 
 and he was justly regarded as by far the most formid- 
 able assailant whom that minister had to encounter 
 in the arena of debate. His magnificent speech on 
 American taxation was considered one of the most ex- 
 traordinary on record ; but his fanciful flights and pro- 
 found reasoning were often too little adapted to the 
 taste of his audience to be relished or followed ; and 
 his contemporaries became careless of attending to ora- 
 tions which, nevertheless, will last as long as the En- 
 glish language. His own friends, who crept stealthily 
 away to avoid listening to his rich efiiisions, were, on 
 their publication, surprised at the delight experienced 
 in perusing them. Such was their treatment oi" an 
 orator who spoke for posterity.
 
 62 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 A dissolution occurring in 1774, Burke was, with- 
 out his knowledge, put in nomination as a candidate 
 for the representation of Bristol. He had just heen 
 elected for Malton, in Yorkshire, when the intelligence 
 of this unsought distinction arrived ; and straightway 
 he proceeded to the ancient city. There his eloquence 
 was exerted with such force that it penetrated even 
 the heads of the wealthy traders in rum and sugar, 
 who, after a protracted contest, placed him at the top 
 of the poll. An amusing anecdote is related of" his 
 colleague in the canvass — a colonial merchant. After 
 one of the mighty orator's most glowing addresses to 
 the inhabitants, the worthy individual feeling himself 
 quite overpowered by the torrent, instead of attempt- 
 ing to explain his views to the audience as expected, 
 exclaimed Avith grave but excited earnestness, " I gay 
 ditto to Mr. Burke ! I say ditto to Mr. Burke !" It 
 happened, however, that when the next general elec- 
 tion took place, Burke had rendered himself so unpop- 
 ular to the constituency by his support of the Catholic 
 claims and of the Irish Trade Acts, that he judged it 
 prudent to decline a contest ; and he again took shelter 
 in the borough of Malton, which he represented during 
 the remainder of his parliamentary career. 
 
 The party, which Burke had all but created by his 
 intellect and determination, had, meantime, been rein- 
 forced by an ally of rare prowess and extraordinary 
 capacity. Charles James Fox, a younger son of that 
 Lord Holland who had sprung into political life under
 
 BURKE. C3 
 
 the auspices of Sir Robert Walpole, and been ennobled 
 for services rendered to Lord Bute, had entered the 
 House before he was of legal age. For a while Fox 
 held a subordinate appointment in the Government of 
 Lord North, but was dismissed from it on account of 
 some refractory votes. He then, in spite of his unfor- 
 tunate gaming propensities, made himself one of the 
 most accomplished debaters ever heard, by speaking 
 every night but one during five sessions. He became 
 the pupil of Burke, from whom he frankly avowed 
 having learned more than from all other men and 
 authors. Gradually he superseded his master in the 
 leadership, and their miited efibrts forced Lord North 
 from power. 
 
 The Marquis of Rockingham now returned to his 
 former position, and Burke received the appointment 
 of Paymaster-general, then one of the most lucrative 
 in the state, and was admitted into the privy council. 
 But, in defiance of all fairness and gratitude, he was 
 excluded from the cabinet. The death of Lord Rock- 
 ingham, in 1782, terminated his party's tenure of 
 office ; and Lord Shelburne being called on to luider- 
 take the duties of government, intrusted the lead of 
 the Lower House to Pitt, then little more than twenty- 
 three years of age. Upon this was formed the cele- 
 brated Fox and North coalition which speedily drove 
 Lord Shelburne into retirement, though his youthful 
 colleague had struggled with signal skill, dauntless 
 courage, and commanding eloquence to baffle the ef-
 
 64 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 forts of the terrible foes ranged in fierce opposition. 
 The Duke of Portland then became nominal premier ; 
 Fox and his ancient enemy, Lord North, were the 
 principal secretaries of state ; and Burke calmly went 
 back to the Pay-office. But Pitt succeeded in defeat- 
 ing their East India Bill, and returned to power in 
 the capacity of prime minister. 
 
 Burke on this set out on his crusade against the 
 abuses and tyramiy, which had long occupied his 
 thoughts. Fourteen years previously the affairs of 
 India had become a subject of Parliamentary deliber- 
 ation and national interest ; and Burke had proceeded 
 to investigate the matter with restless energy. The 
 East India Directors had proposed to send him out at 
 the head of a commission for the reformation of abuses, 
 with discretionary powers. He declined the offer, but 
 applied himself with persevering industry' to acquire 
 a thorough knowledge of the question. The time had 
 now arrived when it was to be turned to account ; 
 and forthwith commenced the long and fierce contest, 
 in the course of which he shook the old oak roof of 
 Westminster Hall with his denunciations of the great 
 Eastern culprit. 
 
 Warren Hastings, originally sent out to India as a 
 poor orphan, whom his guardian was glad to be rid 
 of, landed in 1785 on the free soil of Britain, after 
 having maintained and extended the English empire 
 in the East, administered its affairs with singular ca- 
 pacity, and gathered a large fortune for himself Burke
 
 BURKE. 65 
 
 believed him to be sullied with various crimes, and 
 within a week of his triumphant arrival gave notice 
 of a motion seriously affecting his character as a ruler. 
 With fiery zeal, relentless animosity, and unflagging 
 i.idustry, he commenced and carried on the assault, 
 till, in Frebruary 1788, the memorable trial began in 
 Westminster Hall, which was gorgeously fitted up for 
 the occasion. On the third day Burke addressed the 
 court, and his opening speech occupied four sittings. 
 The passion and energy of the orator were worked up 
 to a pitch which overbore, for a time, the conviction 
 of those who entertained friendly feehngs for the ac- 
 cused. With all thejxrdor of his great soul, with all 
 the powers of his splendid imagination, and with all 
 the might of his marvelous intellect, he denounced in 
 the loftiest language the misconduct with which Hast- 
 ings stood charged. Ladies shrieked and fainted ; men 
 muttered and execrated the dark deeds his rich mind 
 and brilliant fancy portrayed with all the eloquence 
 of the highest genius ; and even the feelings of the 
 crimmal were so carried away by the resistless flood, 
 that he almost beheved himself guilty. The effect, 
 however, was evanescent ; the ceremony proceeded 
 languidly ; and years after it was brought to a tennin- 
 ation by the acquittal of the Governor-general. Mean- 
 time, on the breaking out of the French Revolution, 
 Burke, indignant at the removal of ancient landmarks, 
 took a most gloomy view of its tendency, and was 
 thus separated in opinion from his former associates, 
 E
 
 66 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 who did not hesitate to express their satisfaction at 
 the event, and their admiration of the principles that 
 had produced it. A party rupture was the conse- 
 quence ; and in 1791, during a Canadian debate, 
 Burke, who had pre^^ously declared that he and Sher- 
 idan had parted forever, solemnly renounced all polit- 
 ical and private friendship with Fox. " My separa- 
 tion," he stated, " is a principle, and not a passion. 
 I hold it my sacred duty to confirm what I have said 
 and written by this sacrifice. And to what purpose 
 would be the reunion of a moment ? Henceforth I 
 can have no delight with him, nor he with me." 
 Even when on his death-bed, he adhered sternly and 
 steadfastly to this resolution, and declined an inter- 
 view with his old friend and pupil. He had already 
 published his " Reflections on the French Revolu- 
 tion," which soon overshadowed and agitated Europe. 
 Dublin University conferred on him the degree of 
 LL.D. for the wondrous power with which he had 
 pleaded for established governments ; and Oxford com- 
 municated to him an address of thanks. Though long 
 exposed to multitudinous annoyances, and iratated by 
 inferior men, his intellect had not sufiered in the 
 shghtest degree. Doubtless, his counsels in regard to 
 Continental affairs were somewhat fierce, arbitrary, 
 and impracticable, as was not unnatural at a time 
 when blood was flowing like water. But his genius 
 and knowledge were still gloriously conspicuous ; and 
 this crowning effort of his powers as a writer was more
 
 BURKE. 67 
 
 than equal in strength, abihty, and imagination to the 
 splendid achievements of his earlier and more vigor- 
 ous years. 
 
 In 1795 a pension was bestowed upon him for his 
 long and faithful services to the State. This, although 
 the slightest reward which a grateful monarch could 
 have bestowed on his most gifted subject for labors on 
 which Englishmen, to the latest generations, will look 
 back with pride, as they profit by his burnuig sen- 
 tences and words of wisdom, brought upon him most 
 rancorous attacks. He was still mourning the loss of 
 his only son, a youth of great promise ; but, neverthe- 
 less, produced an answer characterized by his tried 
 abihty and scornful sarcasm. But no defense was 
 necessary ; and he who had sacrificed his repose, pleas- 
 ures, and satisfactions to what he considered liis duty 
 to the country, and who had ever, without fear, favor, 
 or affection, obeyed the dictates of conscience and the 
 promptings of patriotism, need have cared^ little for the 
 puny assailants who now crawled forth with their 
 ragged mops to bespatter the wide and broad mirror 
 that reflected his unrivaled greatness to an admiring 
 world. 
 
 At length, in 1797, his bodily health began, rapidly 
 to decline, though his mental faculties continued un- 
 impaired to the last. On the 8th of July in that year 
 he expired, after a brief struggle, and was buried in 
 Beaconsfield church, where a plain mural tablet has 
 been erected to his immortal memory.
 
 NECKER. 
 
 Ardent admirers of such mental and imaginative 
 power as was displayed by the marvelous man whose 
 career has just been sketched, will be unable to dis- 
 cover any striking signs of that sublime quality iu 
 Necker. Yet liistory hardly presents a more impres- 
 sive and agreeable instance of moderate talents hon- 
 estly exercised, and resolute industry unflinchingly 
 practiced, conducting an obscure individual — in spite 
 of countless obstacles — to bomidless wealth and su- 
 preme distinction, in an exclusive comitry of which he 
 could not even boast of being a native. His example 
 is, therefore, of peculiar value to youth, and eminently 
 worthy of attentive consideration, as showing what 
 may be achieved by integrity and perseverance against 
 all disadvantages. 
 
 The forefathers of this celebrated person whose name 
 justly occupies so conspicuous a place in the political 
 annals of continental Europe, are stated to have been 
 Irish Protestants, at a time when there was particu- 
 larly little personal safety to those holding the doc- 
 trmes of the reformed faith. At a troublous period 
 they fled from persecution, and sought refuge in Prus- 
 sia, whence another generation found their way into
 
 NECKER. 69 
 
 Switzerland. Thus it happened that Necker was 
 bom in Geneva, on the 3d of September, 1732, where 
 his parents were in respectable circumstances, and 
 where his father held the Professorship of Public Law. 
 The boy was doubtless educated with care in his na- 
 tive city, whose beautiful situation on the Rhone and 
 at the end of Lake Leman, with its fine walks and 
 pleasant prospects, furnished a fitting scene wherein 
 to indulge his youthful and ambitious aspirations after 
 fame and fortune. But at the same time the manners 
 and customs of the place conveyed to him impressions 
 still more salutary, and predisposed him in favor of 
 those habits of rigid virtue on which he subsequently 
 built his high power and enviable reputation, as also 
 those sound religious principles which, in after life, 
 distinguished hini and his house from those among 
 whom his lot was cast. 
 
 The opinion that the true genius is a mind of large 
 general powers, determined by accident to some par- 
 ticular direction, is rather confirmed than otherwise 
 by the mstance of Necker. His natural bent was to- 
 ward political and philosophical studies, and had they 
 been encouraged and pursued, he might have become 
 a fanciful and brilliant thinker ; but his parents did 
 not regard his prepossessions with satisfaction. On 
 the contrary, they deemed it better that his time should 
 be devoted to the lucrative labor which fortune sup- 
 plies to a votary of activity, energy, and intellect. 
 While commerce fills the purse it clogs the brain ;
 
 -70 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 and, though highly favored in his efforts, Necker was 
 not luckier than others in this respect. In earlier 
 years he is said to have written two comedies ; but 
 the extraordinary struggle which must have been re- 
 quired to metamorphose a friendless clerk into one of 
 the richest men of his time would naturally tend to 
 crush and destroy any of the more precious particles 
 of talent and enthusiasm with which he had been 
 endowed by nature. His uncompromising virtue, 
 rare amiability, common sense, amazing industry, and 
 well-proved philanthropy, are the clarms which his 
 name possesses to the respect and gratitude of pos- 
 terity. 
 
 Regarding the wishes of his parents as law, Necker 
 sacrificed his own inclinations, and was sent at the 
 age of fifteen to acquire a knowledge of mercantile 
 affairs in the establishment of Vernet, a banker in 
 Paris. Notwithstanding his aspiring vein, it would, 
 indeed, have been difficult at that critical period of 
 his existence for any one to imagine the possibility of 
 the young Genevan adventurer rising to be first min- 
 ister of royal France — figuring as the centre of literary 
 society in the most polished of European capitals, and 
 exercising a mighty influence on the destinies of the 
 "world. 
 
 Nevertheless his ability and industry were soon 
 proved, and brought him into notice ; his employers 
 duly considering, of course, that it was their interest 
 to do so, afforded him such assistance as was likely
 
 NECKER. 71 
 
 to redound to their own profit and advantage. His 
 perseverance was encouraged ; lie rapidly ascended to 
 a place of trust and confidence in the banking-house, 
 and thus laid the foundation of that character for care 
 and aptitude in business which, as years passed on, 
 made him Chairman of the French East India Com- 
 pany — the highest of his commercial distinctions. 
 
 The reputation, however, on which he rose to polit- 
 ical eminence had to be created by unflinching assi- 
 duity, and the exhibition of intellect. Female inspi- 
 ration was essential to its proper formation in the 
 capital on the Seine ; and presently an influence of 
 no unworthy kind was present to nerve the hand, ele- 
 vate the mind, and fire the soul of the young banker's 
 clerk, struggling, though unaided, to make a name 
 and form a reputation. 
 
 As has been well observed, " Women are the priest- 
 esses of predestination. It is the spirit of man that 
 says, I M^ill be great ; but it is the sympathy of women 
 that usually makes him so." That influence, in a 
 very pure and elevating degree, it was ere long Neck- 
 er's good fortune to find. While in the employment 
 of Thelusson, a rich banker, he was in the habit of 
 visiting at the house of Madame de Vermenoux, who 
 had just engaged a remarkably learned and accom- 
 plished Swiss governess, of captivating appearance, 
 to teach Latin to her son. This foreign instructress, 
 though young, had run no ordinary career. She had 
 encountered and borne up against troubles and disap-
 
 72 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 pointments with heroic courage and dauntless energy. 
 In the gay days of girlhood she had been wooed, won, 
 and sighed for by no less eminent a person than the 
 embryo historian of the Roman empire. In obedience 
 to the mandate of his family, who relished not the 
 idea of so strange a match. Gibbon philosophically 
 abandoned, though he could not altogether forget, the 
 learned and beautiful object of his attachment. The 
 death of her father, the venerable pastor of a mountain 
 village, left her quite unprovided for ; but, far from 
 sinking under the circumstances, she conveyed her sur- 
 viving parent to Geneva, where the liberal education 
 she had received enabled her to maintain both by 
 teaching young females. On the death of her mother 
 she had been induced to remove to Paris, and thus 
 met the man whose aspirations she was to guide and 
 whose ambition she was to direct. Necker was im- 
 mediately impressed by the charms and accomplish- 
 ments of the erudite damsel, and, on becoming better 
 acquainted, her grave style of beauty and noble char- 
 acter of mind threw over him a potent spell, and pro- 
 duced upon his heart an effect of no ordinary kind. 
 Then, however, he could offer nothing but a devoted 
 heart, with such worldly prospects as the enthusiasm 
 of youth, especially in such circvimstances, can readily 
 conjure up. Thus, in consequence of their mutual 
 poverty, they were under the harsh necessity of sub- 
 mitting to the delay of years. Soon, however, did the 
 hero of this somewhat romantic engagement emerge
 
 NECKER. 73 
 
 from that chill obscurity which aspiring spirits like his 
 can ill brook. He became a partner of the flourishing 
 banking-house in which he was employed, and hailed 
 the sun of fortune's better day all the more eagerly 
 that it gave him the power of completing their union 
 without any violation of prudential considerations. 
 Madame Necker's ardent desire for honorable fame 
 speedily exercised an effect on her husband. It quick- 
 ened his efforts after distinction, and prompted him to 
 apply his intellect to huge adventures and important 
 speculations. By his transactions in corn he reaUzed 
 an immense fortune, which was employed and in- 
 creased by large financial operations with the Gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 Meantime he was steadily advancing in social favor, 
 to which his amiability and uprightness highly recom- 
 mended him, and he was chosen envoy for the repub- 
 lic of Geneva at the court of Versailles. When that 
 State was, in some crisis, contemplating the appoint- 
 ment of an embassador to Paris, the Mmister of the 
 Crown assured Necker that such an envoy was alto- 
 gether unnecessary. " I will have nothing to do with 
 any one in this affair but yourself. Monsieur Necker," 
 he said. Tliis office opened up a passage for him to 
 aristocratic circles, where his known wealth and ac- 
 curate information secured him a tolerable degree of 
 respect. As he rose to affluence and social import- 
 ance, his natural inclination began to assert its dor- 
 mant claim ; he withdrew from active business, and
 
 74 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 devoted much attention to the pursuits toward which 
 his heart had originally been turned. He had studied 
 finance with singular determination ; and his exten- 
 sive knowledge of that subject, as shown m several 
 pamphlets written at this period, excited much in- 
 terest, and won him considerable praise. 
 
 In 1773 he carried oH" the prize at the Academy, 
 with liis Eloge de Colbert ; and soon after won even 
 greater distinction by his able essay, entitled La Le- 
 gislation ct le Commerce cles Grains. His information 
 was extensive, and his views of questions as intelli- 
 gent and comprehensive as his training and education 
 admitted of their being. His regular and precise 
 habits were, doubtless, rare as the conjugal devotion 
 which raised the wonder of sneering skeptics and gay 
 courtiers. His conversation, though a little pedantic, 
 was lively, refined, and instructive, and his manner 
 characterized by the courage of honesty. 
 
 Indeed the time had now arrived Avhen the upright 
 character, financial skill, and approved ability of the 
 Swiss adventurer, rendered him a personage whom the 
 Government could not overlook. His disposition was 
 so amiable that it inspired love and esteem in those 
 who were best acquainted with him ; while his gen- 
 erosity and munificence had fascinated the masses, 
 and won him popular applause. Besides, his intel- 
 lect had impressed itself on public feeling, and on the 
 national mind. He enunciated the doctrine, not under 
 all circumstances agreeable, that no new tax was law-
 
 NECKER. 75 
 
 ful till all the resources of economy had been tried ; 
 and he held opinions in favor of retrenchment before 
 the idea was in fashion with the multitude. Such a 
 man was unquestionably of" no small value in the ad- 
 ministration of affairs. The finances were in all but 
 hopeless disorder, and war was apparently appi-oach- 
 ing. Therefore, though he was, as a foreigner, dis- 
 tasteful to the nobles, and as a Protestant an object 
 of aversion — not unmingled, perhaps, with dread — to 
 the clergy, urgent necessity overbore considerations 
 which might not have yielded to a less imperious 
 monitor, and he was nominated Director-general of 
 the Finances. To allay the foolish murmurs of the 
 privileged classes, he was not admitted to a seat in 
 the cabinet ; and to the complaints of the clergy, who 
 naturally remonstrated against a Protestant being in- 
 trusted with an office of such importance, the prime 
 minister of the day used this very significant and con- 
 clusive argument: "I will give him up to you, if you 
 will pay the debts of the State." 
 
 Having thus placed his foot on the ladder of power, 
 Necker speedily made his influence beneficially felt. 
 Various reforms, great and small, in the administra- 
 tion of the national finances, testified that a strong 
 hand and a clear head were enlisted in the service of 
 a country that much required them. He commenced 
 his official career by prudently declining to receive the 
 emoluments pertaining to the post he occupied, and 
 forthwith signalized liis accession to office by sup-
 
 76 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 pressing some six hundred places about the Court and 
 Treasury. His early education had strongly impressed 
 him in favor of free institutions ; and his system of 
 government was essentially popular. His plan vv^as, 
 to render as public as possible the national accounts 
 and expenditure, and to form provincial assemblies, in 
 which local affairs and taxation might be discussed 
 and debated. His schemes, however, were not in any 
 respect agreeable to the courtiers, and he was assailed 
 by a continuous shower of pamphlets from the mem- 
 bers of the Parliament of Paris. Under these unto- 
 ward circumstances he deemed a place in the Council 
 requisite, that he might be in a proper position to de- 
 fend his measures when they were under the delibera- 
 tion of that body. 
 
 " What I you in the Council, and you do not go to 
 mass I" exclaimed the First Minister of the Crown, 
 with every feature of his countenance marked with 
 surprise. 
 
 " Sully did not go to mass, and yet he was admitted 
 to the Council," replied the Swiss financier, with be- 
 coming dignity ; but in vain. The minister offered 
 to comply with his request, if he would become a Ro- 
 man Catholic ; but, as in duty bound, Necker reso- 
 lutely refused to sacrifice his religious convictions to 
 political advancement, and sent in his resignation to 
 the king. His majesty, painfully aware of the value 
 of the services he was thus about to lose, accepted it 
 mournfully ; and those who had coalesced to over-
 
 ^ECKER. 77 
 
 throw the obnoxious statesman rejoiced lor a brief 
 season over the triumph they had, ibr their misfortune, 
 achieved. 
 
 Meantime Necker had made a noble and philan- 
 thropic use of the influence he possessed, and of the 
 immense wealth which he had amassed by his talents 
 and industry. His private character was so iniexcep- 
 tionable, and his morahty so unimpeachable, as to con- 
 trast remarkably wdth those among whom he acted 
 so prominent a part ; and, with the assistance of his 
 precious wife, he had done much to relieve and alle- 
 viate the wants and distresses of the poor and indigent. 
 Madame Necker had expressed a wish to devote her 
 talents to literature, but her husband hinted his objec- 
 tion to such a course being pursued ; and she betook 
 herself to those acts of charity and beneficence, to 
 which he proudly appealed in a day of darkness and 
 gloom. Thus, at a great cost of time, labor, and 
 money, they had founded the hospital in Paris which 
 still bears their name ; and there, in contemplating 
 the good effected by their exertions, they found con- 
 solation in times of trouble. On the day preceding 
 his resignation, they went thither ; and the Sisters of 
 Mercy who attended the patients sang portions of the 
 Psalms — the only poetry with which they were ac- 
 quainted — and loudly extolled the Neckers as the 
 helpers and benefactors of the poor and needy. The 
 fallen minister was, perhaps, much more moved with 
 such demonstrations of affection than by all his trials,
 
 78 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 and felt a pang at losing a position -which gave him 
 the power of conferring blessings on his less-favored 
 fellow^-creatures. 
 
 Necker now^ retired to St. Omer, a short distance 
 from Paris, where he soon had conclusive proofs of his 
 wide popularity. He received hundreds of com.muni- 
 cations from people of the highest rank and import- 
 ance, regretting his removal from office : the road be- 
 tween his residence and the city was crowded with 
 the carriages of persons who went to pay their respects 
 to him in his retreat ; and ere long he had it in his 
 power to decline the proposals of three foreign sover- 
 eigns, who each hastened to offer him the manage- 
 ment of their exchequers. 
 
 In 1787 he published his celebrated attack on Ca- 
 lonne, then presiding over the financial department ; 
 and so bitter did the controversy become, that the 
 king judged it necessary to banish the ex-minister 
 twenty leagues from Paris. Next year, however, the 
 feeling against his successor became so strong, the 
 monetary embarrassments so perplexing, and the pub- 
 lic excitement so great, that there appeared no other 
 politic course than to recall Necker from his retire- 
 ment. Accordingly he was privately applied to by 
 the queen, through the Austrian embassador, to resume 
 his former functions ; but he declined doing so with- 
 out possessing complete control. He was, therefore, 
 recalled, as a kind of financial dictator. His return 
 was a triumph of the most brilliant description. He
 
 NECKER 79 
 
 was \vclconi;;rt along the road from Bale with expres- 
 sions of joy, gratitude, and admiration, by the inhabit- 
 ants of the district. The day of his entry into Paris 
 was kept as a lestive holiday, and the popular enthu- 
 siasm manifested itself in shouts of applause : but he 
 came too late to be permanently of service to the dis- 
 ordered and agitated state. Few men have ever met 
 with so~liearty a reception trom their fellow-subjects ; 
 and Necker had sufficient ambition aud vanity not to 
 be altogether insensible to the glowing triumphs of 
 such an hour. Yet, when congratulated on his recall, 
 under circumstances so flattering, he regi'etfuUy re- 
 marked — " Ah, would that I could recall the last fif- 
 teen months I" 
 
 Nevertheless, his influence was, as anticipated, speed- 
 ily and beneficially felt in the I'estoration of public- 
 credit, and the relief of the capital from the famine 
 which had threatened and terrified its inhabitants. 
 Events had, indeed, arrived at a crisis which baffled 
 the strength of his guiding-hand and the resources of 
 his busy brain ; and he soon found questions arising 
 which the public excitement prevented him from deal- 
 ing Avith, or settling, to advantage. The wearisome 
 and invidious duty of being responsible for proceedings 
 over which he had no control, Avas his for a bridt 
 period ; and he, unfortunately, lacked the qualities 
 which enable a public man to stand and save himself 
 and others in an age of revolution. His popularity 
 vanished as the storm approached ; and, at length,
 
 80 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 on the 4th of September, 1790, sick at heart, and tired 
 of contending with difficulties which no human power 
 could have subdued, he finally resigned the high office 
 which, in ordinary times, he was capable of filling 
 with so much honor to himself, and so much advant- 
 age to the country, disappeared from the stage, and 
 was quickly forgotten amid the excitement and blood- 
 shed of a revolutionary tempest. He betook himself 
 to Coppet, and felt his banishment from the moving 
 world less than most men who have been compelled 
 to relinquish power. He had that admiration of his 
 learned, virtuous, and amiable wife, which swallowed 
 up such considerations. Her influence over his heart 
 was as unlimited as was her devotion to his wishes. 
 Though she was somewhat cold, formal, and precise, 
 in his eyes she seemed perfect, and he had ever re- 
 garded her with a feeling approaching to idolatry ; 
 and in days of adversity she shone forth, and ex- 
 hibited domestic love, noble truth, and high-souled 
 purity. On her death, in 1794, Necker was solaced 
 by the affection and friendship of their accomplished 
 daughter, Madame de Stael, smce generally recognized 
 as one of the most distmguished women who ever hved. 
 In 1800 he was visited by Bonaparte, when matching 
 to Marengo. Necker expired in the year 1803, and 
 was buried ui the grounds at Coppet, by the side of higs 
 departed spouse. 
 
 This famous man was not endowed with that spleu' 
 did genius which has elevated many from obscure sit-
 
 NECKER. 81 
 
 uations to positions of power and dignity ; but his in- 
 dustry was untiring, and his integrity beyond question. 
 He rose with credit, by habits of steady and incessant 
 exertion and independence, which were transferred 
 from one sphere to another, adhered to with resohition, 
 and might have proved successful in raising the land 
 of his adoption to a condition of enviable wealth and 
 prosperity, but for the mighty event which tortured 
 the foresight of the most sagacious, and defied the 
 valor of the bravest. 
 
 F
 
 PITT. 
 
 The name and memory of a great statesman, who 
 has led and ruled senates by the might of eloquence, 
 carried measures beneficial to millions, or impressed 
 immortal principles on public conviction, are gener- 
 ally, in spite of political disputes and disagreements, 
 regarded by a free and favored people with feelings of 
 respect, admiration, and gratitude. They are asso- 
 ciated in the mind of a community with periods of 
 peril or prosperity, and recalled by each succeeding 
 generation with national pride. "Great men,"' said 
 Burke, " are the guide-posts and land-marks of the 
 state ;" and, assuredly, history presents few more .spot- 
 less or splendid reputations than that of the son of 
 Chatham, who came forth and signahzed his prowess 
 as a ripe politician, accomplished debater, and skillful 
 tactician, prepared for the work and warfare of tlie 
 senate by his comprehensive views in what have been 
 termed' the proper sciences of a statesman — those of 
 government, politics, commerce, economics, history, 
 and human nature — at an age when many are mak- 
 ing then* first and last crude efforts at public speak- 
 ing, or expending their faculties in frivolous dissipation 
 and enervating lu.xury.
 
 PITT. 83 
 
 Doubtless the name which Chatham had made 
 immortal was a tower of strength ; and his brilliant 
 example could hardly fail to inspire with a love of 
 kindred fame the son on whom his fondest hopes 
 rested. Indeed, there were both interest and curiosity 
 experienced as to whether the power of the Pitt fam- 
 ily would be increased or dimmished. And, more- 
 over, there was not wanting that encouragement to 
 noble and patriotic exertion which is usually given 
 by a generous public to the sons of gi-eat and popular 
 ministers of state. It may, therefore, be truly said, 
 that 
 
 " With prospects bright upon the world he came, 
 Pure love of virtue, strong desire of fame ; 
 Men marked the lofty path his mind would take. 
 And all foretold the progress he should make." 
 
 The family to which this illustrious man belonged 
 was rich and respectable, though not patrician in 
 origin or descent. The Pitts were for ages settled in 
 Dorsetshire, but at length one of them became Gov- 
 ernor of Madras, and brought home from the East that 
 celebrated diamond, the largest then known to be in 
 existence, which was sold to the Regent Orleans for 
 more than three millions of livres, and took its place 
 as the most precious of the croMai jewels of France. 
 The son of this fortunate functionarj'- was a gentleman 
 of Cornwall, and hereditary patron of some boroughs ; 
 for one of wliich, Old Sarum, his second son, a cornet 
 in the Blues, was returned to Parliament. The tal-
 
 84 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 ents of the latter were speedily exerted in such a way 
 as to give offense to Sir Robert Walpole, who mani- 
 fested the annoyance he felt by dismissing him from 
 the army : but notliing could restrain the course of 
 that terrible eloquence, which, in reality, was hardly 
 under its possessor's control. Instead of dependmg, as 
 others had done, on oligarchies and " pocket-lists," he 
 relied for support on the middle classes, then struggling 
 into importance, and, with their aid, ere long became 
 the greatest war-minister who ever presided over the 
 destinies of England. He married a daughter of the 
 political house of Grenville, whose members played so 
 conspicuous a part in the affairs of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury, and had several children, of whom Wilham Pitt, 
 the second son, was bom at Hayes, in the county of 
 Kent, on the 28th of May, 1759. 
 
 The boy destined to exhibit so wonderful an in- 
 stance of precocious statesmanship received the rudi- 
 ments of his education under the paternal roof; and, 
 although so delicate in health that he could only de- 
 vote half the wonted time to study, his progress was 
 remarkably rapid, and his talents evident to all who 
 knew him. Wlien eight years old, he was seen by 
 the mother of Fox, who instinctively prognosticated 
 the rivalry between her distinguished son and thf 
 young prodigy. The contention which had long ex- 
 isted between their sires no doubt suggested this idea 
 to the anxious parent ; and when she marked the 
 singular cleverness of the little boy, and observed the
 
 PITT. 85 
 
 wonderful propriety of his behavior, the maternal solic- 
 itude sharpening her penetration, enabled her to augur 
 the fierce and bitter strife which was to shake senates 
 and shatter parties. Lord Chatham was justly proud 
 of his son, and predicted that he would add honor to 
 the name ; nay, more, he expressed a belief that he 
 would some day be one of the first men in Parliament ; 
 and, if a minister of state, that he would arrive at the 
 highest dignity. He therefore gave his utmost assist- 
 ance in formmg the future premier's mind, and incited 
 him to lofty and laudable aspirations. These labors 
 were not in vain ; and the Great Earl lived long 
 enough to feel assured that a useful and brilliant 
 career lay before the object of his tender care. 
 
 One evening a member of Parliament proposed to 
 take the veteran statesman's two boys to liear a debate 
 in the House of Commons ; but he refused to allow 
 the younger to go. " If William," he is reported to 
 have said, " heard any arguments of which he did not 
 approve he would rise to controvert them ; and, young 
 as he is, he has not even in that assembly many equals 
 in knowledge, reasoning, and eloquence." He must 
 indeed have been a " marvelous boy," to be spoken of 
 even by a fond father, at such an age and in such cir- 
 cumstances. At this date he is stated to have had a 
 turn for poetry, and to have composed, along with his 
 brothers and sisters, a play in rhyme, which was acted 
 by them before some friends of the family. He sub- 
 sequently, M'hile at college, produced a tragedv, which,
 
 86 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 when at the head of public affairs he caknly com- 
 mitted to the flames in presence of a friend, by whom 
 this emanation of his poetic faculty had just been 
 eagerly perused and spoken of in terms of high admi- 
 ration ; though perhaps the merits of the piece might 
 not altogether have justified the praise. 
 
 Pitt's earlier education was conducted by a tutor, 
 but, as has been stated, imder the vigilant superin- 
 tendence of his father, who noted his progress, and 
 rejoiced at the constant indications he gave of superior 
 endowments. Haughty, vehement, and despotic in 
 his nature as that extraordinary minister — the pride 
 of England and the terror of her enemies — was to foes 
 and friends in pubHc life, no such characteristics were 
 allowed to interfere with the quiet and happiness of 
 his domestic circle. 
 
 In his fourteenth year, young Pitt was sent to the 
 University of Cambridge, and entered at Pembroke 
 Hall, where Dr. Prettyman, afterward Bishop of Lin- 
 coln, was his tutor. In age and appearance, indeed, 
 he was a mere boy ; but he was by no means boyish 
 in mind or intellect. His acquirements were wonder- 
 ful, and he could converse on various subjects with 
 all the seriousness of manhood. He was much liked 
 by his youthful compeers for his lively and amiable 
 disposition ; and at the same time esteemed by the 
 tutors on account of his decorum in conduct and dih- 
 gence in study. His manners m private life were 
 then, as ever, frank, easy, agreeable, and utterly de-
 
 PITT. 87 
 
 void of the cold arrogance and unbending demeanor 
 he exhibited in his senatorial capacity. 
 
 Lord Chatham had desired and intended that Pitt 
 should become a candidate for academical honors, but 
 the gifted youth was prevented by weak health from 
 keeping the requisite terms. Nevertheless, he ob- 
 tained the degree of A.M. in compliment to his illus- 
 trious parentage, without any public examination. His 
 juvenile contemporaries on the occasion testijfied their 
 approval of his being thus distinguished by interrupt- 
 mg the public orator with loud and vehement accla- 
 mations. One of his "U'armly-attached college friends 
 was Wilberforce, who entered upon public life about 
 the same date as himself 
 
 Wlien Pitt left Cambridge, he was accomplished in 
 no ordinary degree. In Latin authors he rarely en- 
 countered a difficulty ; and he had, even at his en- 
 trance, been capable of translating pages of Thuoy- 
 dides with scarcely an error. He was intimately ac- 
 quainted with the beauties and defects of the works 
 he had perused. Lideed those who observed the ease 
 with which at first sight he read obscure books, state, 
 that his facihty would have appeared beyond the com- 
 pass of human intellect, if they had not actually wit- 
 nessed it. During his residence at college his dili- 
 gence in learning was exemplary, and his success re- 
 markable. His education was conducted with a view 
 to the struggles of the bar as well as llie conflicts of 
 the senate ; his attention to study was of the strictest
 
 88 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 kind ; and he displayed eminent qualifications for en- 
 tering on either path of life. He made himself inti- 
 mately acquainted with the legal histoiy of the coun- 
 try, studied the policy of modern nations as well as 
 their constitutions and forms of government, and ac- 
 quired much knowledge of the origin, prosperity, and 
 decline of states that had existed and been influential 
 in remote times. His peculiar quickness of conception 
 rendered his progress in these branches of information 
 comparatively easy ; and when he left college, after 
 an unusually long residence, his mind was as perfectly 
 formed as mere theory could make it. He long re- 
 tained his love for ancient learning ; and even amid 
 the bustle of politics and the devising of budgets and 
 subsidies, was seldom v/ithout some work from which 
 to refresh his mind with classical lore. 
 
 Lord Chatham's letters written to his son about 
 this period overflow with parental affection and judi- 
 cious advice. After the too eager and ambitious youth 
 had recovered from a severe illness, he was thus touch- 
 ingly addressed by his justly gratified father : 
 
 " How happy the task, my noble, amiable boy, to 
 caution you only against pursuing too much all those 
 libera] and praiseworthy things to which less happy 
 natures have perpetually to be spurred and driven. I 
 will not tease you with too long a lecture hi favor of 
 inaction and a competent stupidity — your two best 
 tutoi-s and companions at present. You have time to 
 spare ; consider, there is but the Encyclopedia. And
 
 PITT. m 
 
 when you have mastered all that, what will remain ? 
 You Avill want, like Alexander, another world to con- 
 quer." 
 
 After removing from the University the younger 
 Pitt repaired to the Continent, and spent some time 
 at Rheims, still resolutely pursuing his studies and 
 adding to his stores of knowledge. 
 
 In 1778 his famous father died, under circumstances 
 which rendered him dearer than ever to the countrj% 
 of whose honor and interest he was ever so vigilant 
 a guardian, and whose name he made so great, and 
 dreaded among the nations of the earth. Pitt, who 
 had been present when Lord Chatham fell down in 
 the House of Lords while raising his enfeebled voice 
 to cheer the drooping spirits of Englishmen, appeared 
 at the pubhc funeral as chief mourner, and ere long 
 proved the inheritor of his father's popularity. Be- 
 tween them had existed the strongest aflection and 
 the most complete confidence. 
 
 Having duly kept his terms at Lincoln's Inn, Pitt 
 was called to the bar in 1780, and went the western 
 circuit with sufficient encouragement to justify expec- 
 tations of success in his legal pursuits. Lord Mans- 
 field, indeed, declared, that if he persevered in the pro- 
 fession he would be regarded as one of its chief orna- 
 ments. But it was perfectly natural that he should 
 rather aspire to parliamentary distinction ; and ac- 
 cordnigiy he engaged in an vmsuccessful contest for 
 the representation of Cambridge University It was,
 
 90 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 however, for Appleby, a borough vender the influence 
 of the Lowthers, that he was first, through the friend- 
 ship of the Duke of Rutland, returned to that house, 
 which was so often stilled into silence as he rose to 
 speak, delighted as his grand voice swelled in every 
 ear, and filled with thunders of applause as he, with 
 a coolness and self-possession unfelt by all listeners, 
 resumed his place with a look of lofty contempt for 
 his foes. 
 
 Pitt was not in any way bound by the political 
 tenets of the patron of the constituency which he re- 
 presented. He was free to act on his own convictions. 
 He took his seat in January 1781, and next month 
 made his first speech to the House, in support of 
 Burke's motion for an economical refoi-m in the Civil 
 List. He was eminently successful, and displayed an 
 ease, fluency, and accuracy of language which riveted 
 attention and sustained public hope. It is related, that 
 when he had accomplished this his first parliament- 
 ary success. Fox hurried up to express his warm con- 
 gratulations. As they were conversing, an honorable, 
 gallant, and experienced member passed them, and 
 remarked, " You may well praise his speech, for, ex- 
 cepting yourself, no man in the House could have 
 made such another ; and, old as I am, I expect to see 
 you both battling it within these walls, as I've seen 
 your fathers before you." Fox looked rather sheepish 
 and disconcerted at this somewhat blunt and embar- 
 rassing compliment ; but Pitt answered with happy
 
 PITT. 91 
 
 promptitude, "I've no doubt, General, you would like 
 to live to the age of Methuselah." 
 
 At the close of the session some one having remarked 
 to Fox that Pitt promised to be one of the first orators 
 ever heard in the House, that great man unhesitat- 
 ingly answered, "He is so already." 
 
 Pitt still continued to practice his industry and ex- 
 ercise his intellect at the bar, and was highly com- 
 plimented for his abihty by more than one legal sage ; 
 while in Parliament he was receiving the highest 
 marks of admiration for his speeches against the min- 
 isters of the day, and their conduct m regard to the 
 American War. At length Lord North was com- 
 pelled to retreat from power, and Lord E-ockingham 
 empowered to form an administration. Pitt would 
 have been a valuable auxiliary ; but, from not belong- 
 ing to what Lord Chatham had called " the Great 
 Revolution famihes," he was disqualified, like Burke, 
 from sitting m the cabinet, and prudently declined 
 taking office. He soon after submitted his motion for 
 an inquiry into the representative system, with the 
 view of lessening the influence of the dominant aris- 
 tocracy. His efforts in this respect were unsuccessful, 
 and he afterward endeavored circuitously to accomplish 
 his object by creating a host of plebeian peers. What- 
 ever opinions he may have subsequently entertained in 
 regard to the necessity of Parhamentary Reform, were 
 rendered vain and impracticable by the starthng events 
 which speedily changed the face of Europe. Mean-
 
 !)2 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 time his family rapidly increased ; he was described 
 as a greater orator even than his father, and as pos- 
 sessing the full vigor of youth, with the wisdom and 
 experience of the maturest age. Gaming — the vice 
 of the period — he resolutely refrained from. 
 
 On the death of Lord E-ockingham his administra- 
 tion fell to pieces ; and Lord Shelburne became First 
 Minister of the Crown. The latter nobleman was 
 eminent for his intelligence, knowledge, and variety 
 of information ; a great hnguist, fond of science and 
 letters, and actuated by popular principles. He ap- 
 pointed Pitt Chancellor of the Exchequer, and in- 
 trusted him with the management of the House of 
 Commons, within eighteen months of the young states- 
 man's having obtained a seat in Parliament. Li this 
 most responsible position he displayed consummate 
 powers in debate, and proved himself entirely worthy 
 of the confidence reposed in his ability and discretion. 
 The opposition leaders conceived that they had been 
 injured by Lord Shelburne, and showed no mercy to 
 liis chief colleague, either on account of his youth or 
 hereditarjf claims to public respect ; but Pitt faced 
 their embattled host with haughty defiance. It cer- 
 tainly reqiiired no ordinary courage to do so. 
 
 Burke's great soul was at that time heavy ; he was 
 not insensible of the humiliation he had recently ex- 
 perienced ; and, like the Northumbrian Hotspur before 
 breakfast, he was ready to vent his hoarded wrath 
 on anv one who appeared as an antagonist. Besides,
 
 PITT. 93 
 
 he little relished the spectacle of the assembly, whose 
 brightest ornameut he was, being ruled by a lad who 
 had not donned manly garments, when he was achiev- 
 ing conversational triumphs over Dr. Johnson, and 
 contesting the palm of eloquence with " the great Com- 
 moner." Sheridan even went the length of compar- 
 ing the ministerial leader to one of Ben Jonson's char- 
 acters, " the angry boy in the ' Alchyraist ;' " and Fox 
 relentlessly poured forth against him the tenible tor- 
 rent of his stirring and impetuous eloquence. 
 
 There is something touching in the idea of a strug- 
 gle against such men having been maintained by a 
 youth of twenty-three. It must, indeed, have been a 
 marvelous sight to mark that young minister, with 
 his plumes thus scattering on the Parliamentary gale, 
 rise from the Treasury bench to do battle against his 
 puissant foes. His form was tall, thin, and stately ; 
 his eyes blue, but bright with pride and hitelligence ; 
 and on his wide brow, and in his disdainful air, were 
 legibly written that proud and lofty scorn which had 
 deeply struck its root in his imperial mind. Facing 
 the Opposition with a glance of stern indignation, he 
 gravely rebuked the untimely levity of the sage cham- 
 pion of oppressed India, and declared that he could 
 not approve of the indiscretion which so unseasonably 
 ran away with good sense and sober judgment. Then 
 he chilled the spirit of the defiant author of the " School 
 for Scandal," by a contemptuous allusion to his theat- 
 rical pursuits, than which, perhaps, no thrust would
 
 94 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 have been more likely to tell with the gifted, but grace- 
 less and eccentric, senator's patrician coadjutors. And 
 ere his enemies had recovered from their surprise at a 
 stroke, which the extreme and peculiar difficulty of 
 his situation alone could justify, he turned indignantly 
 upon the eminent rival of his life, branded him with 
 sarcastic reprobation, and defended his noble colleague 
 in another place from the strictures passed upon him. 
 Then rising, for a time, above party strife and per- 
 sonal considerations, he denounced the coalition which 
 was being formed as an event stretching to a point of 
 political apostasy, that not only astonished so young 
 a man as he was, but amazed and confounded the 
 most veteran observers of the human heart ; and he 
 exclaimed with glowing eloquence and fervent patriot- 
 ism, " If this baneful alliance is not already formed, if 
 this ill-omened marriage is not already solemnized, I 
 know a just and lawful impediment ; and, in the name 
 of the public safety, I here forbid the bans." His 
 high spirit sustained him in all attacks ; and he deliv- 
 ered one of his most splendid orations at this period. 
 But all his efforts were in vain ; the Shelburne min- 
 istry had been weak from its formation ; and it fell, 
 after a brief but not inglorious tenure of power, during 
 which Pitt had been gratified with the opportunity of 
 proving his capacity for administration, and the power 
 to defend what he did. Indeed, so clearly had his 
 talent for government been sIiomti, that the king was 
 desirous that he should himself undertake the duties
 
 PITT. 95 
 
 of prime-minister ; but feeling that the strength of the 
 party, to which he belonged was as yet imequal to sus- 
 tain him in the fierce struggle which, in such a case, 
 would inoAutably have ensued, he wisely refrained from 
 grasping prematurely at a prize so flattering and fasci- 
 nating to young ambition. However, it came into his 
 hands much sooner than he could have contemplated. 
 Having declined to lend his support to the adminis- 
 tration of Lord North and Mr. Fox, and suffered a 
 second defeat at Cambridge, he spent several months 
 in France, and returned with the intention of resum- 
 ing liis legal pursuits. But events soon occurred which 
 led him to abandon this resolution. His rivals had 
 incurred much unpopularity ; and their India bill was 
 regarded with such dislike and apprehension, that the 
 Peers thought fit to reject it, and by their vote term- 
 inate the official existence of its authors. On this 
 taking place, Pitt was again requested to assiune the 
 reins of power ; and he bravely consented. The posi- 
 tion was arduous and difficult in the extreme ; and 
 he had scarcely completed his twenty-fifth year. He 
 had to encounter, almost single-handed, an opposition 
 conducted by men whose powers, genius, and elo- 
 quence might well have daunted the heart of the 
 boldest, and appalled the imagination of the most 
 experienced ministers ; and they were supported by a 
 party infinitely superior in numbers to that Avhich fol- 
 lowed him. Though they had formerly sought his 
 services with eagerness, yet when a motion was made
 
 96 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 for the issue of a writ on his acceptance of the pre- 
 miership, they met it with a loud and general shout 
 of derisive laughter and provoking ridicule ; many, 
 who might otherwise have hastened to profier their 
 support, hesitated to enlist under a leader so young 
 and inexperienced in affairs of state ; and they con- 
 fidently predicted his immediate fall from the danger- 
 ous eminence to which he had ascended at so early an 
 age. Under such circumstances, Pitt was not upheld 
 by the family or political connection which other min- 
 isters had used ; but he had much confidence in his 
 own resources, and in the support of the crown and 
 people, who, whenever an opportunity was presented, 
 proved that he had not erred in his calculations. His 
 opponents it must be admitted, had no slight reason 
 to predict his speedy retirement and his inability to 
 conduct the public business ; for in a House of Com- 
 mons decidedly hostile to his pretensions, he had not 
 a single ally capable of making himself formidable, 
 with the exception of his chosen friend Dundas, better 
 known as Lord MelviUe. "VYith such aid as that skill- 
 ful and sagacious debater could render, the tall, slender, 
 stern, and dauntless minister, struggled with credit 
 through a session against an enraged majority and a 
 host of terrible foes, panting for a swift revenge. Their 
 desire, however, was not destined to be gratified. Sev- 
 eral resolutions, declaratory of the incompetence of 
 ministers to conduct the business of the realm, were, 
 indeed, carried : their speedy resignation frequently
 
 PITT. 97 
 
 seemed inevitable ; but the king encouraged them to 
 persevere against the difficulties with which they 
 were encompassed ; the countrjs on being appealed to, 
 ejected a hundred and sixty of Pitt's opponents from 
 their seats ; and he received the thanks and the free- 
 dom of the city of London for the uprightness and dis- 
 interestedness he had exhibited. Pitt was, as he 
 might well be, proud of, and emboldened by, his im- 
 mense popularity ; and when the new Parliament as- 
 sembled in the month of May, 1784, he had to en- 
 comiter an opposition so numerically feeble, that his 
 arduous duties were entered upon with some degree 
 of satisfaction. He was now in a position to maintain 
 his ground ; and that he could do so against the fierce 
 and unsparing attacks of such potent adversaries as 
 Burke, Fox, and Sheridan, amply proves the care, 
 attention, and industry with which, by hard and con- 
 tinuous study, he had fitted and prepared himself to 
 enact so great and heroic a part. 
 
 Pitt, as has been stated, was the pupil of Lord Shel- 
 burne, first Marquis of Lansdowne ; and at that dis- 
 tinguished nobleman's house he became acquainted 
 with Dr. Price, a clever Dissenting Minister, who fur- 
 nished him, among other suggestions, with his original 
 scheme of redeeming the National Debt by means of 
 a Sinking Fund, which, in 1786, he developed and 
 submitted to the House, in a speech of six hours' dura- 
 tion ; and it was accepted without a division. 
 
 But the aspiring and ambitious statesman, however 
 G
 
 98 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 austere and absorbed he might be, had other arrange- 
 ments to make, besides re-organizing a party, and, as 
 the head of it, devising vast financial operations. It 
 was necessary to find fair and bewitching ladies of 
 rank to smile upon his efibrts, and render his side at- 
 tractive ; and there can be no doubt that in this im- 
 portant respect Fox was much more propitiously situ- 
 ated. He had also to countervail the advantage which 
 his great antagonist derived from troops of aristocratic 
 friends, by arraying under his banner the adventurous 
 genius and rising mtellect of the countrj'. His bear- 
 ing in public was peculiar, and certainly not such as 
 to attract the affectionate sympathies of his contem- 
 poraries ; he displayed little of " the soft gi'een of the 
 soul," and his manner was utterly unbending. Yet 
 so enormous was his influence out of doors at this early 
 period that he was solicited to represent numerous con- 
 stituencies ; but he preferred being returned, by a large 
 majority, for the University of Cambridge, which had 
 twice previously shut the door in his face, and of which 
 he was afterward chosen High Steward. 
 
 On entering the House, he was in the habit of stalk- 
 ing along to the Treasuiy bench with a severe aspect 
 and a scornful air, scarcely acknowledging the pres- 
 ence of even his most intimate friends and devoted ad- 
 herents. When he rose to speak every tongue was 
 hushed ; his tones were lofty and arrogant ; his sen- 
 tences rolled forth fluently, and swelled with delight- 
 ful harmony ; and cxQxy word was heard with amaz-
 
 PITT. 99 
 
 ing distinctness. His speech delivered in 1791, on 
 the slave-trade, is stated to have been the finest efibrt 
 of his oratorical faculties ; and his unreported war- 
 speech, in 1803, was so surprisingly excellent that 
 Fox, in replying, said that the orators of antiquity 
 would have heard it with admiration, probably with 
 envy. He had the power of speaking with the utmost 
 clearness, though when the process of mystification 
 was necessary no one could perform it with more skill 
 or eflect. That eloquence of which Lord Chatham 
 had been too often the slave seems to have been com- 
 pletely under the control of his favorite son. 
 
 In private life Pitt was, as has been already stated, 
 amiable in disposition, buoyant in spirits, and warm 
 in friendship. He was not insensible to the charms 
 of female grace, but office was "the pride of his heart 
 and the pleasure of his life." When a match between 
 him and Mademoiselle Necker was proposed by her 
 father, he is said to have answ^ered, half jestingly, that 
 he was already wedded to his country. 
 
 The schemes of Pitt for raising Great Britain to a 
 state of high material prosperity were frustrated by 
 the outbreak of the French Revolution, whose causes 
 appear to have baffled the comprehension of the most 
 sagacious, and whose cansequences defied the foresight 
 of the most prophetic. His entrance upon official life 
 had been signalized by a treaty of peace, and his policy 
 was founded on its maintenance ; but he was urged 
 by his new allies, who followed Burke and Windham,
 
 100 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 to support the war against France, and thus gratify 
 the propensity of " an old and haughty nation, proud 
 in arms." The philosophy of Burke threw a halo 
 around ancient institutions, and Pitt formed the great 
 league for their defense. The spirit of Englishmen 
 was roused ; they clamored for war ; and forthwith 
 that long, terrible, and momentous contest, which was 
 brought to a glorious close on the field of Waterloo, 
 was entered upon. 
 
 Pitt continued to administer the affairs of the em- 
 pire till 1801. He had been successful in accomplish- 
 ing the Union with Ireland, and was anxious to carry 
 a measure for the relief of the Roman Catholics of that 
 country. However, he was foiled in this intention by 
 the determination of the king and the feelings of the 
 public. He then, suddenly and unexpectedly, retired 
 from the helm of the state, and gave a guarded sup- 
 port to the ministry of his successor, who had formerly 
 filled the Speaker's chair, and who was subsequently 
 raised to the peerage as Lord Sidmouth. That per- 
 sonage and his colleagues concluded, in 1802, the 
 Peace of Amiens, which was of short duration ; and 
 they, being found inadequate to the functions they 
 had, at a dark, awful, and perilous period, undertaken, 
 were forced to retire in 1804. Then Pitt returned to 
 power, and "bade the conqueror go forth," nor in 
 vain ; but his situation M'as perplexing in the extreme. 
 With shattered health and depressed spirits he was ex- 
 posed to attack from every species of assailant, though
 
 PITT. ICl 
 
 unaided, except by tlie ardent genius of Canning — 
 his most gifted, eloquent, and distinguished disciple. 
 He was not destined much longer to endure the strug- 
 gle. The news of the defeat of the allied armies at 
 Austerlitz came with a most crushing eflect upon his 
 great and proud soul, and he sunk with rapidity. He 
 was cheered in his last hours by the intelligence of the 
 glorious victory at Trafalgar, but all hopes of recovery 
 had passed away. His old tutor, who had now been 
 promoted to the bishopric of Lincoln, attended his 
 dying couch, and solicited him to join in devotional 
 prayer. Then answered the expirmg statesman, with 
 that voice that had often thrilled listening audiences, 
 and taught them that they were in presence of a ruler 
 of mankind — " I fear that I have, like many others, 
 neglected my religious duties too much to have any 
 ground to hope that they can be efficacious on my 
 death-bed. But," he added, with fervor, " I throw 
 myself entirely on the mercy of God." He then joined 
 in religious exercises with piety, calmness, and humil- 
 ity. On the morning of the 23d of January, 1806, he 
 breathed his last, at his residence on Putney Heath. 
 
 A public funeral to his mortal remains, a national 
 monument to his memory, and a sum of money to dis- 
 charge the debts contracted by him while toiling m 
 the service of the state, were voted ; and he was in- 
 terred in that corner of Westminster Abbey where the 
 ashes of so many famous statesmen, who have shaken 
 senates with the fierce conflict of oratory, repose in
 
 100 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 peace together. He was, indeed, well worthy of every 
 token of respect which a great and enlightened nation 
 could thus bestow ; for though men may and do differ 
 as to his genius for legislation, his success in admhiis- 
 tration, and the propriety and eft'ects of his achieve- 
 ments, there are few who can contemplate without 
 admiration his high talents, his majestic eloquence, 
 and the zeal he ever manifested to serve the country 
 which he loved so well, without reference to pecuniary 
 gain or the gratification of mere vulgar ambition.
 
 LORD ERSKINE. 
 
 Among the great men and accomplished orators 
 who, during Pitt's long and arduous tenure of office, 
 strove energetically to curb his will, humble his pride, 
 and exalt his celebrated rival, none was more conspic- 
 uous for ability and eloquence than the immortal 
 Erskine, though it was not in a senatorial capacity 
 that he displayed, to their full extent, those vast powers, 
 or achieved the oratorical triumphs which added lustre 
 to an ancestral name, and formed a reputation so splen- 
 did. 
 
 Thomas Erskine, unquestionably one of the most 
 brilliant, courageous, and irresistible advocates who 
 ever appeared at the English, or indeed at any, bar, 
 was born on the 10th of Januaiy, 1750, in the ancient 
 and historic city of Edinburgh. He was the third 
 son of the Earl of Buchan, a Scottish nobleman of 
 long and illustrious descent, but in circumstances so 
 reduced and different from those enjoyed by the race 
 for many centuries, that his yearly income was less 
 than is now obtained, with ease, by not a few banker's 
 clerks. Some small portion of the family estate still 
 remained, and on it an old castellated residence, prob- 
 ably in as ruinous a condition as the famous Wolf's
 
 104 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 Crag, and, therefore, uninhabited by its proprietor. 
 Had the Caledonian thane been a single man, and 
 unblessed by connubial ties, he might have run a 
 career similar to that of the great novelist's proud, 
 haughty, and restless hero, " the last Lord of Ravens- 
 wood." But he had prudently married the daughter 
 of a Lothian baronet, who speedily brought him several 
 children : so he passed liis life in chill poverty, and 
 died in the odor of sanctity while at Bath, seeking con- 
 solation in the eloquent preaching of Whitefield, which 
 was said to make sinners tremble as if a lion were roar- 
 ing among them.* 
 
 Although it is likely that this exemplary earl was 
 a justice of the peace, and rather more than probable 
 that there were lawsuits in the family, it does not 
 appear that, previous to the chancellor's birth, the 
 repose of the noble countess was disturbed or agitated 
 by such dreams as heralded the Spectator's mtro- 
 duction into existence. However, that patrician ma- 
 tron was held in esteem as a woman of pious char- 
 acter and aspirations. She took pahis to bring up 
 her sons in the way they should go, and uistruct them 
 in the rudiments of education. She grounded them 
 thoroughly in the Presbyterian catechism, and so imbued 
 their young minds with the spirit of religion that Er- 
 skine, in after hfe, was in the habit of devoutly ascrib- 
 ing each piece of good fortune to a special interposition 
 of an over-ruling Pi-ovideuce. 
 
 At an early age he was placed at the High School
 
 LORD ERSKINE. 105 
 
 of the Scottish metropohs, then the most approved 
 seminary north of the Tweed ; and there he remained 
 for several years. His natural talents shone forth ; 
 he distinguished himself sufficiently to be generally 
 at the top of his class ; and no doubt, also, he proved 
 his courage and prowess in the boyish exploits under- 
 taken in the neighborhood, and the juvenile warfare 
 daily carried on in the play-ground. It was well for 
 him to be exposed to such an ordeal, for the path that 
 lay before him was not gaily strewed with roses, but 
 thickly " beset with thorns and briers :" so also, though 
 in a less degree, was that of his witty, cheerful, and 
 able brother, Harry, afterward Lord Advocate for Scot- 
 land and Dean of Faculty. 
 
 When Erskhie had reached the age of twelve, his 
 high-born parents removed to St. Andrew's, with the 
 view of adopting a style of living more in accordance 
 with their narrow finances than could be pursued by 
 people of " note and quality" even in the Scottish cap- 
 ital. At St. Andrew's he attended the grammar-school 
 for a while, and subsequently took advantage of some 
 classes in the college of the old town ; though it ap- 
 pears that his opportunities of profiting by that ancient 
 institution were extremely limited. Nevertheless, his 
 talent appeared ; he manifested a strong love of books, 
 and he derived from those within his reach a consid- 
 erable amount of miscellaneous information, which 
 opened up his mind and fired his ambition. Bright 
 dreams of future eminence began to illumine his
 
 106 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 young heart, and, feeling the urgent and paramount 
 necessity of doing something for his support and ad- 
 vancement in hfe, he expressed a decided preference 
 for the learned professions, and a desire to have his 
 time and energies employed in the pursuit of one of 
 them. 
 
 The requisite means, however, were wanting to 
 gratify liis inclination in this respect ; and his parents 
 were compelled to state, that the best thing they could 
 do to promote his interest was to have him placed in 
 some man-of-war as a midshipman. The prospect 
 of donning a blue jacket and cocked hat, and of the 
 consequent adventures — generally so pleasing to the 
 juvenile imagination — was by no means so fascinating 
 to the clever, studious, and intellectual young " hon- 
 orable" as might have been expected ; but, after some 
 ineffectual eflbrts to make matters more to his liking, 
 he felt himself bound to endure what he regarded as 
 a hard fate, and was accordingly embarked about 
 the completion of his fourteenth year. Doubtless the 
 usual parting-scene was enacted with all due formal- 
 ity. Gil Bias is made to state that, when he loft home, 
 his parents made him a present of their blessing, which 
 was all that he had ventured to expect, for the very 
 competent reason that they had nothing else to bestow ; 
 and, no doubt, Erskine was similarly favored. Per- 
 haps, also, the noble earl would gravely admonish the 
 young sailor not to trifle or hurt himself with his 
 sword ; his mother would give him a last embrace ;
 
 LORD ERSKINE. 107 
 
 ami liis sisters would, witli tears, give evideuee of" their 
 grief. 
 
 The next few years of Erskine's life were passed on 
 board ship, where, however uncongenial the service, 
 he gave all due attention to discipline, and besides found 
 time for improving his mind and increasing his stores 
 of knowledge. When ashore, he made a point of see- 
 ing something of life in the various places where he 
 happened to be ; and those who recollect his fine and 
 beautiful passage about the Indian chief, in his speech 
 for Stockdale, will hardly question the use he at this 
 period made of his rare faculties. Having probably 
 drawn his ideas of naval life from the interesting de- 
 scriptions in the pages of " Roderick Random," it is 
 not wonderful that he found his situation more toler- 
 able than he had been led to anticipate. He particu- 
 larly enjoyed himself while stationed at Jamaica, rel- 
 ished its picturesque scenery, and experienced the de- 
 lightful novelty of dancing at dignity balls with quad- 
 roon damsels, who chattered in broken English, ex- 
 hibited grinning rows of ivory teeth, and whose white 
 dresses contrasted strangely with their colored skins 
 and their dark rolling eyes, which gave evidence rather 
 of their African than their European descent. 
 
 Though unfortunately, as it then seemed, engaged 
 in pursuits for which he had no real vocation, the as- 
 piring Scot struggled manfully onward in his profes- 
 sion. Nor did he fail in after life to make judges and 
 juries aware that he had profited largely by his naval
 
 108 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 experience, when engaged in cases connected with 
 marine affairs, as he frequently was from his knowl- 
 edge of teclmical phrases and other matters. Mean- 
 time he, at length, had the comfort of heing appointed 
 acting-lieutenant in the "Tartar," and of making a 
 voyage homeward in that capacity ; but on arrival 
 in England, finding that the ship was to be paid off, 
 and that he would, from this circumstance, be re- 
 duced to his original ranis, he desperately resolved to 
 tempt the seas no more. 
 
 About this period his father's earthly existence 
 terminated ; and Erskine, who appeared as one of the 
 mourners, was much impressed with the solemnity of 
 the funeral obsequies. Having abandoned all thoughts 
 of a naval career, he turned his thoughts to a military 
 life, and had sufficient influence to obtain an ensign's 
 commission in the 1st Regiment of Foot, with which 
 he straightway went to Minorca. His commission 
 had cost all the money he possessed, and an applica- 
 tion for a small allowance had been refused by his 
 eldest brother, the eccentric Earl of Buchan, who 
 afterward, on this ground, boasted that the future 
 chancellor owed every thing to him. Yet, under 
 these inauspicious circumstances, he contracted a ro- 
 mantic marriage with a young lady of respectable 
 parentage, which luckily proved more propitious than 
 is usual with unions formed under circumstances so 
 forbidding. 
 
 While stationed in Minorcia, though there appeared
 
 LORD ERSKINE. 109 
 
 little prospect indeed of his acquirements ever being 
 turned to account, he devoted himself with remark- 
 able assiduity to the cultivation of his mind, by a 
 profound and earnest attention to the English classics. 
 In this way, by long and deep study, he became most 
 familiar with the works of Shakspeare and Milton ; so 
 that, with a very slight knowledge of Latin authors, 
 and almost none of Greek, he — a native of the north 
 — rendered himself a consummate master of the En- 
 glish tongue. His tastes were thoroughly intellectual, 
 and he even indulged them by officiating as temporaiy 
 chaplain to the regiment ; to which he not only read 
 prayers, but preached two sermons from the drum- 
 head, with no small measure of success. 
 
 On returning to England, Erskine obtained six 
 months' leave of absence, part of which he spent in 
 London. While there he had the advantage of meet- 
 ing, conversing with, and encountering in discussion, 
 no less eminent a person than Dr. Johnson, attended 
 by his faithful dog and biographer. This was at the 
 house of Sir Alexander Macdonald ; and the " young 
 officer in the regimentals of the Scots Royals," attract- 
 ed much attention by the fluency, precision, and vivac- 
 ity of his discourse. At the same date Erskine ap- 
 peared to advantage as the author of a pamphlet on 
 the abuses of the British army, which had an exten- 
 sive circulation, and procured him some fame. Soon 
 after this he was promoted to a lieutenancy, and for 
 some time longer endured the disagreeable process of
 
 no FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 marching with the regiment from one place to an- 
 other. His family and his dissatisfaction gradually 
 increasing, a gloomy cloud seemed to hang over his 
 existence ; and there was ever before him the dismal 
 prospect of his life proving a long series of imaginings 
 never to be realized, and of aspirations never to be 
 gratified. 
 
 Under such circumstances, while he was quartered 
 in a provincial town, a great thought was born with- 
 in him. One day, to drive away care, dispel annoy- 
 ance, and perhaps to gratify a rational curiosity, he 
 strolled into the assize court, where the great Lord 
 Mansfield was presiding, with his wonted serene and 
 impenetrable dignity. Perhaps birds of Erskine's 
 feather were rarely seen in such haunts. At all 
 events, his regimentals quickly attracted the eye of 
 the veteran judge, who, struck, no doubt, by the 
 peculiarly elegant and aristocratic appearance of the 
 singularly intelligent-looking officer, even condescended 
 to inquire who he was. On being informed that he 
 was a younger son of the late Earl of Buchan, and 
 very much in the same position in which the noble, 
 learned, and influential Chief Justice might have 
 found himself, but for the good fortune which had 
 early led him to fatten and flourish in the pastures of 
 the South, the latter kindly accommodated the lieute- 
 nant of foot with a place beside him on the bench, 
 and courteously explained the case that was being 
 tried. Thus seated by a man who had raised him-
 
 LORD ERSKINE. Ill 
 
 self, by his genius, from the oatmeal porridge and 
 ai'istoeratic poverty of Scone Palace to wealth and an 
 illustrious position, it struck the aspiring and discon- 
 tented subaltern that here was a sphere in which his 
 intellect might be exercised with advantage and re- 
 nown. He therefore availed himself of his distin- 
 guished countryman's politeness, which took the shape 
 of an invitation to dinner, to state the hardship of his 
 lot, and explain his views. So truly great a man as 
 Lord Mansfield would hardly, at such a moment, 
 forget his own early trials and struggles. In any 
 case, his young acquaintance was rewarded with some 
 slight encouragement, and the sage advice to consult 
 his friends. Erskine's svirviving parent readily ap- 
 proved of the plan ; and, between jest and earnest, 
 she said he must be Lord Chancellor. Accordingly, 
 having formed his plans, he was admitted as a student 
 of law at Lincoln's Inn, and, at the same time, 
 entered himself as a fellow-commoner of Trinity Col- 
 lege, Cambridge, where in spite of narrow means, 
 his wit and talent soon brought him into notice. 
 The sale of his military commission produced him 
 a serviceable sum of money ; and, divesting himself 
 of scarlet uniform, he proceeded to accomplish him- 
 self in the composition of English. An amusing 
 specimen of his skill in versifying is a parody of 
 Gray's " Bard," which gained him some applause. 
 It was produced on the occasion of his being detained 
 from dinner at the College hall by the tardiness of his
 
 112 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 hair-dresser, and begins with this not very compH- 
 mentary stanza : 
 
 "Ruin seize thee, scoundrel Coe ! 
 
 Confusion on thy frizzing wait ! 
 Hadst thou the only comb below, 
 
 Thou never more should'st touch my pate. 
 Club, nor queue, nor twisted tail. 
 Nor e'en thy chatt'ring, barber, shall avail, 
 To save thy horse-whipped back from daily fears, 
 From Cantab's curse, from Cantab's tears !" 
 
 Having taken the honorary degree of A.M. in 1778, 
 the future defender of Lord George Gordon was called 
 to the bar in the same year. When settled in London, 
 he practiced his oratorical powers at dehating-cluhs, 
 and pursued his legal studies in the chambers of a 
 special pleader ; yet it does not appear that his knowl- 
 edge of the law was ever very profound, notwith- 
 standing his possessing, in some measure, a legal 
 intellect. His domestic arrangements were on the 
 most economical principle ; there is even a tradition 
 to the effect that his honorable spouse was under 
 the necessity of acting as washerwoman for their 
 family. His fare was of the humblest description ; 
 his dress was remarkable only for its shabbiness ; he 
 frequently found it no easy matter to provide the 
 necessaries of life for the passing day ; and he was 
 heard thanking God that, out of his own family, he 
 did not know a lord. It appears that his acquaint- 
 ance with attorneys was still more limited in extent. 
 Being complimented on his health and spirits, he
 
 LORD ERSKINE. 113 
 
 answered sportively that he ought to look well, having 
 nothing else to do, as had been remarked of some- 
 body's trees. 
 
 But a man with the blood of a long line of earls in 
 his veins, and with the consciousness of already 
 having given proof of superior endowments, was not 
 likely, while enduring galling poverty, to be wanting 
 in aspirations after fame, or to lose an opportunity ot" 
 wimiing a name and bettering his circumstances. 
 Erskine felt within him both the stirrings of ambi- 
 tion and the capacity to do and dare with success, if 
 an occasion were presented. His affairs were prob- 
 ably at the worst, when accident threw Captain 
 Baillie in his way. 
 
 That brave and gallant officer had, as Lieutenant- 
 governor of Greenwich Hospital, written and publish- 
 ed a statement of abuses existing in the establishment, 
 reflecting with particular acerbity on Lord Sandwich, 
 first lord of the Admiralty. For this pamphlet Bail- 
 lie was forthwith suspended by the Board, and a pros- 
 ecution commenced against him by some of the less 
 important individuals, whom he had assailed in per- 
 suance of what he regarded as the performance of his 
 duty. While the case was in prospect of being tried, 
 Erskine happened to meet the redoubted captain at a 
 dinner-party, and, without being aware of his pres- 
 ence, expatiated on the subject of the prosecution 
 with so much warmth and animation, that though 
 they were not introduced on that occasion, the ex- 
 H
 
 114 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 lieutenant-governor declared that the briefless barris- 
 ter should be one of his counsel ; but as there were 
 to be four seniors, the latter naturally despaired of 
 receiving any attention. However, at a consultation, 
 when the others were inclined to consent to a favor- 
 able compromise, Erskine respectfully dissented, and 
 advised them to stand the hazard of a trial ; where- 
 upon the captain swore a round oath, and cried, as 
 he caught the future occupier of " the marble chair" 
 in his strong arms, "You are the man for me I" 
 When the case came on, the seniors were heard at 
 great length on behalf of Captain Baillie ; and the 
 last of them, Mr. Hargrave, being in some way indis- 
 posed, was obliged to retire several times during his 
 lengthened argument, and thus so protracted the pro- 
 ceedings, that on his concluding Lord Mansfield said 
 that the remaining counsel should be heard next 
 morning. This was precisely what Erskine desired, 
 and indeed appeared almost providential, as it afford- 
 ed him time to arrange during the night the heads of 
 what he was to say. Besides, he had the advantage 
 of addressing the court with refreshed energies and 
 revived faculties. Wlien the judges took their places 
 next morning, he rose from the back row, and deliv- 
 ered a speech of such marvelous ability, that it has 
 since been regarded by sagacious critics as the most 
 brilliant forensic display ever witnessed under similar 
 circumstances. As he left the hall attorneys flocked 
 around to congratulate him on his extraordinary tri-
 
 ERSKINK'S FIRST SUCCESSES.
 
 LORD ERSKINE. 117 
 
 umph, and from that memorable day business flowed 
 in upon him. Being asked how he could so boldly 
 face a venerable judge like Lord Mansfield — the very 
 type and figure of justice — his feeling reply was, that 
 he fancied his children were tugging at his gown, and 
 saying, " Now is the time to get us bread I " 
 
 Erskine was next selected, on account of his naval 
 intelligence, to draw up the defense to be spoken by 
 Admiral Keppel, on hie trial. This he did with 
 much success ; and the admiral, on being acquitted, 
 presented him with bank-notes to the amount of a 
 thousand pounds, which he flourished in triumph be- 
 fore his friends, exclaiming, with the almost boyish 
 and mirthful fancy, ever freely indulged in private, 
 " Voila the nonsuit of cow-beef !" 
 
 The skill, dexterity, and eloquence, together with 
 the complete devotion to the interests of his chent, 
 which he displayed in the conduct of cases, led to an 
 extensive and lucrative practice ; and in 1781 he was 
 retained as counsel for the silly but then enthusiasti- 
 cally Protestant Lord George Gordon, whom he de- 
 fended with brilliant power and signal success. In 
 1783, though having then been only five years at the 
 bar, and delivered for a still briefer space from the 
 horrors of " cow-beef" and threadbare garments, it 
 was thought advisable to confer on him a patent of 
 precedency. This gave him the privilege of donning 
 a silk gown and sitting within the bar. It was hke- 
 wise deemed prudent to have him brought into Par*
 
 118 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 liainent, and he was returned to the House of Com- 
 mons as member for Portsmouth, to try his skill as a 
 debater among the giants who then ruled the Legisla- 
 ture. The result was by no means gratifying to his 
 numerous friends and admirers, who really seem to 
 have entertained the unreasonable expectation that 
 he was to trample Pitt m the dust as easily and 
 proudly as he had done the nameless creatures of 
 Lord Sandwich. In fact, his acquaintance with poli- 
 tical matters was limited, from the keen and earnest 
 attention which he had given to his professional pur- 
 suits ; and his new position was so utterly different 
 from that to which he had been accustomed, as to 
 render him somewhat like a fish out of the water. 
 In Westminster Hall, his ardor, his enthusiasm, the 
 sparkle of his piercing glance, the grace and nobleness 
 oi" his figure, the freedom and celerity of his move- 
 ments, the clearness and flexibility of his voice, the 
 surpassing beauty of his diction, the correct taste with 
 which he conceived and the singular felicity with 
 which he executed most difficult flights, and his fig- 
 ures of speech characterized by a boldness which un- 
 exceptional success alone could redeem from the charge 
 of temerity, had fascinated juries, startled dignified 
 sages of the law out of their propriety, and command- 
 ed the admiration of experienced advocates. But in 
 the House of Commons his ardent spirit was chilled, 
 his enthusiastic temperament damped, and his elo- 
 quent tongue made to falter by the scornful stare, the
 
 LORD EKSKINE. lU 
 
 contemptuous indifference, and the cold sarcasm of 
 the dread son of Chatham. 
 
 Meantime his fame at the bar ascended rapidly. 
 His powerful memory, wakeful vigilance, and knowl- 
 edge of those with wliom he had to deal, enabled 
 him to conduct cases with wonderful skill . He defended 
 the Dean of Asaph in a speech of much merit and 
 high courage ; and in 1786 was appointed Attorney- 
 general to the Prince of Wales, an office of M'hich he 
 was deprived for appearing, with dauntless determina- 
 tion, on behalf of the notorious Thomas Paine, author 
 of " the Rights of Man," in spite of the threatening 
 frowns of royal power and the suggestive warnings of 
 northerxi craft. 
 
 Though bold and conscientious above all others in 
 the performance of his duty, Erskine had good reason 
 to say to his admirers, " Gentlemen, I am but a man." 
 He had, indeed, a considerable amount of vanity in 
 his nature, and even in his best days hked Aveil, after 
 the case had been called, to keep a crowded and im- 
 patient audience waiting in court for a few minutes 
 till he should make his appearance with something 
 like stage efi^ect. When he entered, to conduct some 
 most important case on which, perhaps, he believed 
 " the last and best gift of God to his creatures" de- 
 pended, it was a little too apparent to intelhgent spec- 
 tators that his new yellow gloves and carefully-dressed 
 wig were recognized by him as essential parts of the 
 solemn proceedings. But if he did too assiduously
 
 120 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 cultivate popular favor he can not be justly accused 
 of having shrunk from fear of court proscription, even 
 when his fortunes hung trembling in the balance. 
 
 The period of the state trials was that of Erskine's 
 greatest triumph and highest popularity. His grave, 
 sturdy, and sensible-looking antagonist, on that occa- 
 sion, was Sir John Scott, afterward Lord Eldon, who 
 had worthily risen to distinction by " living like a her- 
 mit and working like a horse." He was then attor- 
 ney-general, and his duty, as public prosecutor, could 
 hardly have been very agreeable. Indeed, he seemed 
 at times to have been in no small danger from the ex- 
 citement of the mob, who daily bestowed upon Erskine 
 frenzied applause. After the acquittal of Hardy, the 
 ringleaders insisted upon taking the horses out of the 
 brilliant counsel's carriage, that they might draw him 
 to his house in triumph. Years after, when he was 
 relating this circumstance in presence of Lord Eldon, 
 that distinguished personage managed to tui-fl the 
 laugh against his old opponent by adding, with quiet 
 humor, " Yes, and I believe you never saw more of 
 them." 
 
 In 1802 Erskine visited Paris, and was presented 
 to the Emperor Napoleon, then First Consul, who, 
 however, only honored him with the single question, 
 " Etes vous legistc V On returning home, he was 
 restored to his office of Attorney -general to the Prince 
 of Wales, who revived in his favor the dormant func- 
 tions of Chancellor to the Duchy of Cornwall.
 
 LORD ERSKINE. 12\ 
 
 Oil the death of Pitt, Lord Grenville, who had pre- 
 viously left the party of his illustrious relative and for- 
 mer colleague, formed, in conjunction with Fox and 
 Addington, the ministry of " AU the Talents." Erskine 
 was nominated to the woolsack, and being advanced 
 to the peerage became Lord Chancellor ; thus fulfill- 
 ing his mother's jocular prediction. He resigned, Avith 
 his political friends, in 1807, and shortly after made 
 his celebrated speech in the House of Lords against the 
 Jesuit's Bark Bill ; but henceforth he ceased to play 
 a prominent or influential part in public affairs. h\ 
 1815 the Pi-ince Regent bestowed on him the Order 
 of the Thistle. He is reported to have regretted that, 
 from having been Lord Chancellor, he was prevented 
 from pleading at the bar, where had been won his 
 crown of fame ; and to have remarked frequently to 
 his friends, that the only reason he had for accepting 
 the great seal and a peerage at the time, was to place 
 the maternal prophecy beyond all hazard of breaking 
 down. However, he consoled himself for the loss of 
 his position in the forum by reciprocating compliments 
 with his friend Dr. Parr. When the great scholar 
 once promised to write the ex-chancellor's epitaph, 
 Erskine replied, " Such an intention on your part is 
 almost enough to make one commit suicide." 
 
 Dr. Johnson said that every man has a lurking wish 
 to appear considerable in his natiA^e place, and no doubt 
 Erskme Avas actuated by this natural feeling ; yet it 
 was somewhat late in life before he turned his steps
 
 122 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 toward the land of his fathers. There, however, his 
 reception was so flattering that he conceived a strong 
 desire to revisit it in 1823. He insisted upon going 
 by sea, as being an old and experienced sailor, and 
 was so unfavorably aflected by the voyage that he 
 never recovered the shock. 
 
 He expired at Almondale, near Edinburgh, on the 
 17th of November, 1823, and was buried, in accord- 
 ance with the fashions and customs of the country, 
 in the family vault at Uphall, in "West Lothian.
 
 LORD COLLING WOOD. 
 
 The ancestors of this noble-hearted and patriotic 
 Enghshman were " dreaded in battle and loved in 
 hall." Their courage has been recorded in history, 
 and their courtesy celebrated in song. Yet it is less 
 than probable that any mailed warriors of the knightly 
 race possessed these attributes in greater perfection 
 than did this gallant and heroic admiral, who, in the 
 nineteenth century, on that boundless empire which 
 his countrymen claim as their heritage, made the 
 ancient name he bore so widely and gloriously known 
 in Europe and the world. The CoUingwoods were 
 for several centuries planted in the proud and exten- 
 sive comity of Northumberland. There they owned 
 large territorial estates, held a high social position, and 
 formed distinguished matrimonial alliances. Their 
 prowess and valor were displayed in the perpetual 
 conflicts which, previous to the auspicious period when 
 King James united the crowns of the two realms upon 
 his learned forehead, laid waste and impovei'ished the 
 wild and unruly borders. When the Civil Wars oc- 
 curred, being staunch and fearless cavaliers, they ad- 
 hered to the cause of the first Charles, and lost much 
 land in the gloomy and disastrous struggle for the pre-
 
 124 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 rogatives of that ill-fated Prince. In later days the 
 chief of the name — being a friend and companion of 
 the popular, munificent, and deeply-lamented Lord 
 Derwent water — engaged in the hapless insurrection 
 of 1715, had his estates forfeited to the crown, and 
 was called upon to lay liis head on the block for that 
 royal house, against whose subjects the Collingwoods 
 of another age had ever been ready to fight to the 
 death. From these and other causes a representative 
 of the family, in the middle of last century, appears 
 to have found himself in a position the reverse of con- 
 venient, and in circumstances by no means affluent. 
 In any case he settled at Newcastle, married a lady 
 of Westmoreland and was blessed with several children. 
 
 Cuthbert Collingwood, who inherited little beside 
 the Christian and surnames, described by the old bal- 
 lad-maker as being " so worthy to put in verse," and 
 the stainless courage of" that courteous knight," taken 
 prisoner at RedsMire, was the eldest of his parents' 
 three sons, and born on the 26th of Sept. 1750. No 
 doubt he sported, during childhood, on the banks of 
 the Tyne, regarded the shipping in the port with a 
 curious eye, and was carried on fine afternoons, like 
 other juvenile inhabitants of Newcastle, to buy short- 
 cake in the neighboring village of Chester-le-Street. 
 
 In due time he was sent to the Grammar School, 
 and there trained to fear God, serve his countrjr, and 
 honor the kuig. The master of the institution at that 
 time was the Rev. Hugh Moises, a most worthy and
 
 LORD COLLINGWOOl). 126 
 
 successful teacher of the old stamp, who never spared 
 the rod when the application of it was likely to pro- 
 mote the improvement and welfare of his pupils ; nor 
 refrained from besto-w'ing the meed of praise which 
 they had fairly earned by meritorious conduct. By 
 such means, in all probability, CoUingwood — a pretty, 
 gentle, and generous boy — was taught those whole- 
 some lessons of obedience and self-respect which he 
 afterward knew so well how to practice himself and 
 to inculcate on others, at once with the benevolence 
 of a pJiilanthropist and the firmness of a despot. At 
 this educational establishment religious exercises were 
 regularly attended to ; and, perhaps, in the sentiments 
 there instilled into his mind may be traced the origin 
 of those habits of practical, unpretending piety, which 
 characterized his illustrious career. Among the youths 
 who were there being instructed by Mr. Moises, who 
 marched to church under his auspices on Sundays, 
 feared his chastening birch on week-days, and who in 
 after years acknowledged the benefit they had derived 
 from his tuition, were the two Scotts, sons of a wealthy 
 coalfitter in the place, and destined to arrive at the 
 highest rewards and honors of the branches of the 
 legal profession to which their time and talents were 
 devoted. The younger of them, who ere long occu- 
 pied so high a position, and exercised so much influ- 
 ence as Lord Eldon, Avas Collingwood's class-fellow, 
 and used to state, somewhat umiecessarily, that both 
 of them were placed at the time-honored seminary
 
 126 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 because their fathers could not conveniently afford to 
 have them educated elsewhere. The fame which they 
 worthily attained in different spheres proves that they 
 lay under no considerable disadvantages on that ac- 
 count. When Collingwood's dispatch narrating the 
 battle of Trafalgar arrived, the king expressed his ex- 
 treme surprise that a naval officer, who had spent so 
 much of his life at sea, should write in so admirable 
 a style. But on being informed that his brave and 
 patriotic subject had been a scholar of Moises, his 
 majesty considered that fact sufficient to explain the 
 excellence shown. 
 
 In subsequent life, when experience had sharpened 
 his powerful faculties, it was Collingwood's opinion 
 that a boy intended for the sea should be early placed 
 at a mathematical school, and carefully initiated into 
 the science of navigation ; as otherwise there is little 
 likelihood of his achieving much progress on board a 
 man-of-war. We are told of Lord St. Vincent, that 
 the only instruction he ever received was from a con- 
 siderate old sailing-master, whom he encountered Avhile 
 stationed at Jamaica ; but it does not appear where 
 CoUingwood acquired his theoretic knowledge on this 
 subject. It is probable, however, that he enjoyed the 
 advantage of being grounded by the celebrated Hutton, 
 who, just as CoUingwood attained his tenth year, com- 
 menced a mathematical class in the town, and was, 
 in some capacity, connected with instructing the mis- 
 chievous imps under the sternly just sway of Mnises
 
 LORD COLLINGWOOD. 127 
 
 At the age of eleven Colling wood was dedicated to the 
 profession of which he became so useful a member, 
 and so bright an ornament. 
 
 The circumstances which have led to our great 
 naval heroes first going to sea are sometimes pecu- 
 liarly interesting, and even romantic. Take, for 
 instance, the case of the Hoods — sons of a vicar in 
 Somersetshire. A gallant captain was spending his 
 time ashore in traveling about the country, and in 
 passing through the quiet village of Butleigh, his 
 carriage happened to break down. He looked around 
 for an inn in which to stay while it vmderwent the 
 necessary repairs, but there was no public place of 
 accommodation to be had. The stranger, with some 
 reason, seemed a little disconcerted ; but matters were 
 presently cleared up by the appearance of the worthy 
 parson, who invited him to his house with hearty good 
 will, and entertained him hospitably. Next morning 
 the guest, before leaving, said, " Sir, you have two 
 sons, would either of them like to go with me to sea ?" 
 They availed themselves of the frank offer, — both 
 entered the service, and one became Lord Hood, the 
 other Viscount Bridport. Jervis, the son of a barris- 
 ter, was intended to follow his father's steps ; but the 
 groom persuaded him that all lawyers were rogues, 
 and the little fellow, running away from school, in- 
 sisted on being a sailor. After entering the navy he 
 experienced hardship and poverty, but he struggled 
 upward, with manly spirit, to wealth, fame, distinc-
 
 128 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 tions, and an earldom. Nelson's father was a clergy- 
 man in Norfolk, but his maternal uncle, a captain in 
 the navy, promised to provide for one of the boys. 
 Horatio was so slender in frame, that he was thought 
 incapable of roughing it out at sea ; yet he earnestly 
 requested to be sent. Accordingly he was packed off 
 alone in the coach to join the ship, but had the morti- 
 fication of pacing the deck in wretchedness for a whole 
 day before being taken notice of, while swelled in his 
 young breast all the germs of the genius that recog- 
 nized no fear, and the eccentricity — more valuable 
 than the wisdom of others — which ultimately rendered 
 him the dread of foes and the admiration of friends. 
 
 A relationship, similar to that which influenced the 
 fortunes of his mighty compeer, seems to have guided 
 Coilingwood in his selection of a career. Captain 
 Braithwaite, who afterward rose to the rank of 
 admiral, had mamed the boy's aunt. That officer 
 then commanded the " Shannon," and it was resolved 
 to place the young aspirant under his care and protec- 
 tion. A touching and interesting glimpse of his earli- 
 est experience on board is afforded as he sat on the 
 deck, sad at heart, and with tears in his eyes, which 
 flowed more rapidly as he gazed through them at the 
 shore. The first lieutenant observing the comely 
 little sailor in so doM'ncast a mood, and perhaps re- 
 membering his own feelings on a like occasion, was 
 touched with compassion, and addressed him in lan- 
 guage of sympathy and encouragement. Whereupon
 
 ^~->;v~> 
 
 COLLING WOOD' S JUVENILE GENEROSITY.
 
 LORD COLLINGWOOD. 131 
 
 Colling wood felt so grateful that he led the kind- 
 hearted officer to his box, and offered him a large 
 piece of plum-cake, which his anxious and affectionate 
 mother had given him at parting. 
 
 CoUingwood experienced much kind treatment from 
 the kinsman under whose protection he embarked on 
 his career of duty and renown. He afterward con- 
 fessed the obligations he owed to Admiral Braithwaite 
 in the acquirement of professional knowledge. But 
 the sage, meditative, and enei-getic seaman, was far 
 from trusting to the aid or inspiration of others in his 
 triumphant struggle. He thought earnestly, and la- 
 bored dihgently, for himself He steadily practiced 
 that self-culture which he ever strongly and persever- 
 ingly recommended to others. Besides perusing treat- 
 ises on naval affairs, he read extensively, and with no 
 small profit, in historical works ; he obtained books 
 relating to the places to which he happened to sail, 
 and exercised his intellectual faculties by comparing 
 these descriptions with his own impressions of the 
 localities and scenery. Moreover, he embraced and 
 acted on the opinion that a man should, before arriving 
 at his twenty-fifth year, establish for himself a char- 
 acter and reputation of such a kind as he would have 
 no cause to be ashamed of throughout life. 
 
 In the ordinary course of events Colluigwood parted 
 from his gallant relative, and sailed for some time with 
 another officer. Between these two services thirteen 
 years were consumed, and during that period he made
 
 132 FOOTPRINTS OV FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 the acquaintance of Nelson. At its termination he 
 went to Boston with Admiral Graves, and was thus 
 present at the battle of Bunker's Hill, in command of 
 a party of seamen to assist and supply the troops, who.. 
 under General Gage, encountered the insurgent colo- 
 nists. After that event he \yas advanced to the rank 
 of lieutenant ; and in 1775 joining the " Hornet" 
 sloop, in that capacity he sailed to the West Indies. 
 The ship in which Nelson was lieutenant came to the 
 same station ; and with the inmiortal hero Colling- 
 wood renewed the feelings of friendship, which, 
 cemented in the interval by many high aspirations 
 and bright dreams, were strikingly and glowingly dis- 
 played on another and more glorious day. 
 
 Meantime Collingwood had the good fortune to suc- 
 ceed his friend as commander of the " Badger," and, 
 subsequently, as a post-captain in the " Hinchenbroke" 
 frigate, with which he was ordered to proceed to the 
 Spanish Main, and employed on the expedition sent 
 up the river San Juan. The climate to which he was 
 now exposed was in the highest degree pestilential ; 
 the majority of his crew fell victims to its excessive 
 insalubrity ; and in this perilous situation he was sus- 
 tained and saved from sharing their fate by a remark- 
 ably strong constitution. Right glad, however, with 
 all his powers of endurance, must he have been when 
 relieved in the autumn from this scene of woe and suf- 
 fering. He was then appointed to the command of 
 the " Pelican. ' With that frigate, of twenty-four g'ms,
 
 LORD COLLINGWOOD. 133 
 
 he captured a French vessel, recovered from the ene- 
 my a richly-laden Glasgow merchantman, and was 
 soon after wrecked among the rocks of the Morant 
 Keys. He next obtained the command of the " Samp- 
 son," a ship of sixty-fom- gmis, which was paid off at 
 the peace of 1783. Then he was dispatched, in the 
 " Mediator," to the West Indies, where he and his 
 younger brother, a naval officer of great promise, who 
 filled an untimely grave, actively aided Nelson in en- 
 forcing the provisions of the Navigation Act against 
 the encroachments of the Americans. 
 
 In 1786 this brave and manly sailor arrived in En- 
 gland, and joyfully turned his face homeward. He 
 spent the next four years among his Northumbrian 
 relatives, of whom he had hitherto seen much less 
 than he could have wished. At the termination of 
 that period an armament was preparing against Spain, 
 and he was immediately nominated to a command ; 
 but the difierences which had led to this step being 
 speedily accommodated without going to war, and 
 there appearing no prospect of active service, he again 
 repaired to the frontier county ; all the more readily, 
 perhaps, that he had already surrendered to a lady in 
 that northern province the exquisitely tender heart, 
 which no prolonged service nor scenes of bloodshed 
 could ever harden, or render indifferent to the welfare 
 or sufferings of others. He was forthwith married, 
 and there appearing no probability of his professional 
 abilities being in requisition, he looked forward to a
 
 134 FOOTPRINTS OF FaMOUS MEN. 
 
 long season of that domestic peace and happiness 
 which he was eminently fitted by nature to create and 
 enjoy. However, his expectations in this respect proved 
 vain ; the French war broke out, he was under the 
 necessity of sacrificing his cherished wishes to Ins coun- 
 try's good, and he returned, with characteristic courage 
 and resolution, to arduous and indefatigable exertion 
 on that element which, almost without interruption, 
 was his sphere for the remainder of his earthly exist- 
 ence. 
 
 " Calm thoughts that dwelt like hermits in his soul, 
 Fair shapes that slept in fascinating bowers, 
 Hopes and delights — he parted with them all." 
 
 CoUingwood was, without delay, appointed to the 
 " Prince," Admiral Bowyer's flag-ship, and served with 
 that officer in the action of the 1st of June, 1794, in 
 which Lord Howe accomplished a signal victory. He 
 displayed his wonted vigilance and energy, in M'atch- 
 ing for the enemy and preparing for strife and wounds. 
 But even then his thoughts strayed often to a gentler 
 scene — to the home of his family, to green woodlands, 
 and " mountains blue." Even on the eve of battle 
 his fancy heard the ringing of the village bells, and 
 his imagination conjured up the form of his fair spouso 
 as she walked to church, not unmindful of her absent 
 hero. The conflict was sharp, and soon over ; and in 
 it Gollingwood behaved with much gallantry. Never- 
 theless, his services were unacknowledged by Lord 
 Howe ; and in the distribution of medals ^e was passed
 
 LORD COLLINGWOOD. 135 
 
 over, much to the surprise of the fleet, and of some 
 officers Avith whom he had fought side hy side, and 
 by whom liis bravery had been duly appreciated. " If 
 CoUingwood has not deserved a medal," remarked 
 Captaui Packenham, of the " Invincible," " neither 
 have I ; for we were together the whole day." 
 
 Collingwood v/as a man of too much pride and pro- 
 priety to waste ■^ords on such a subject ; but he was, 
 at the same time, actuated by that sentiment of self- 
 respect which forbade hinfi to overlook such an injus- 
 tice. Ere long an occasion of vindicating his inde- 
 pendence and reputation was presented : this happen- 
 ed when the great victory off' St. Vincent was hap- 
 pily achieved in 1797. The hero of that day, Sir 
 John Jervis, when writing to the Admiralty, expressed 
 the highest praise and admiration of CoUingwood's 
 conduct, which, in the "Excellent," had been con- 
 spicuously meritorious ; and he ainiomiced that the 
 Northumbrian captain was to be rewarded with one 
 of the medals distributed in commemoration of the 
 glorious event. Collingwood could now speak out 
 without loss of dignity ; and he stated, with feeling 
 and firrmiess, that he must decline receiving this mark 
 of distinction while the former one was withheld. 
 
 " I feel," he said, as his slender, well-formed person, 
 seemed to swell with emotion, and as his full dark 
 eye flashed with chivalrous pride, and the conscious- 
 ness of a heart that feared no foe : " \feel that I was 
 then improperly passed over ; and to receive such a
 
 136 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 distinction in this case would be to acknowledge the 
 propriety of that injustice." 
 
 " That," replied Lord St. Vincent, with evident 
 adnairation, " is precisely the answer I expected from 
 you, Captain Collingwood." 
 
 Shortly after this conversation took place, Colling- 
 wood experienced the gratification of having the tAvo 
 medals transmitted to him from the Admiralty, with 
 a civil apology for the earlier one having been so long 
 kept back. He was now instructed to assist in what 
 he considered as the humiliating office of blockading 
 the enemy's ports ; and, after a brief interval of re- 
 pose in the society of his friends and relatives, he was 
 promoted to the rank of Rear-admiral of the "V^Tiite ; 
 when, hoisting his flag in the " Triumph," he pro- 
 ceeded to the Chaimel fleet, which was under the 
 command of Lord Bridport. He was soon after de- 
 tached with a reinforcement of twelve sail of the line, 
 and sent to join Lord Keith in the Mediterranean, 
 where the Brest fleet, with the principal naval force 
 of France and Spain, then lay. He subsequently 
 shifted his flag to the " Barfleur ;" and in the begin- 
 ning of 1801 became Rear-admiral of the Red. 
 
 The events of 1802 afforded Collingwood the satis- 
 faction of returning for a Avhile to his home at Mor- 
 peth, in the north of England. He arrived in the 
 merry month of May, and greatly relished his quiet 
 and repose. He was fond of company, and among 
 his friends showed much lively humor and no incon-
 
 LORD COLLINGWOOD. 137 
 
 siderable knowledge of books. His tastes were plain 
 and simple, and his inclination averse to display. He 
 gratified his paternal feelings by superintending the 
 education of his daughters. He pursued his own 
 studies with more than youthful enthusiasm, improved 
 his style of composition by making extracts from tho 
 various works he perused, and indulged his natural 
 fondness for drawing. His garden was situated on 
 the banks of the beautiful Wansback — a river alluded 
 to in " Marmion" — which flows through a succession 
 of fertile valleys ; and there he passed many agreeable 
 hours. Indeed he seems, like Lord Bacon, to have 
 looked upon gardening as " the purest of all pleasures, 
 and the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man." 
 One day, a naval officer coming to visit Collingwood 
 in his happy and tranquil retirement, sought him in 
 vain about the grounds, and was inclined to give up 
 the search, when he suddenly discovered the admiral, 
 along with his old and trusty gardener, busily occupied 
 in digging with vigor at the bottom of a deep trench. 
 The afiairs of his domain ever fomied an interesting 
 subject of inquiry ; nor did distance diminish the re- 
 spect which he entertained for his faithful horticultur- 
 al henchman. 
 
 In the beginning of 1803, when a renewal of hostil- 
 ities between England and France occurred, Colhng- 
 wood was summoned from weeding the oaks in his 
 cheerful northern retreat, which he was never blessed 
 with an opportunity of revisiting ; though he often
 
 138 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 sadly and fondly luxuriated in the anticipation of re- 
 suming a place by his own fireside, never more to 
 leave it. 
 
 Meantime he was sent, in the " Venerable," to the 
 squadron off Brest, Admiral Cornwalhs joyfully ex- 
 claiming on his arrival, " Here comes Collingwood — 
 the last to leave and the first to rejoin me I" In the 
 April of 1803 he was advanced to the rank of Vice- 
 admiral of the Blue, and next year engaged in the 
 blockade of Cadiz, until compelled to retire by the 
 appearance of the combined fleets of France and 
 Spain. He soon resumed his station, where he re- 
 mained till the following autumn ; when thither came 
 that terrible English sea-captain who had already 
 driven the French fleet before him, " from hemisphere 
 to hemisphere," and performed the vow, long before 
 made, that he would teach Bonaparte to respect the 
 British navy. On the 21st of October, 1805, Trafal- 
 gar was fought and won ; though the brilUancy was 
 at first, in some degree, clouded and overcast by the 
 fall of the conquering hero, in whose breast patriotism 
 had so long glowed with fierce ardor. On that glori- 
 ous and ever-memorable day, CollingAvood nobly did 
 his duty. In the morning, he arrayed himself for the 
 coming strife with extraordinary care and precision. 
 Meeting with Lieutenant Clavell, whom he had long 
 regarded as " his right hand," the brave admiral, with 
 his accustomed mental equanimity, said, " You had 
 better put off" your boots, and put on silk stockings • 
 
 9
 
 LORD COLLINGWOOD. 139 
 
 as, if one should get a shot in the leg, they would be 
 so much more manageable for the surgeon." Then, 
 going on deck, he encouraged the nien in performing 
 their duty, and asked the officers to do something 
 which the world might talk of in time to come. Nor, 
 when the hour of encounter arrived — when the suc- 
 cesses of his great comrade-in-arms were to be crowned 
 wdth an imperishable triumph — did he fail to sustain 
 his old reputation for prowess and courage. He led 
 the British squadrons into action, and with his single 
 ship, the " Royal Sovereign," advanced gallantly into 
 the midst of the enemy's forces. It was then, as he 
 was keenly pressing onward, that Nelson, standing on 
 board the " Victoiy," decorated with all his stars and 
 honors, and prepared for death and glory, exclaimed, 
 as the remnant of his right arm moved with excite- 
 ment, " See how that noble fellow, Collingwood, takes 
 his ship into action I" At the same time Collingwood, 
 knowing what thoughts would be passing through his 
 heroic friend's mind, remarked to Clavell, with a 
 smile, " What would Nelson give to be here I" It is 
 singular that his spirit of economy should have mani- 
 fested itself under such circumstances ; as M'hen he 
 saw the gallant-studding-sail hanging over the gang- 
 way, he requested his lieutenant to assist him in tak- 
 ing it in, and observed that they should live to want 
 it again some other day. Having poured a broadside 
 and a half into the stern of the " Santa Anna," the 
 two vessels were soon so close that their lower yards
 
 140 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MExX. 
 
 were locked together. Another was placed on the 
 lee-quarter of Coliingwood's ship, while three bore on 
 her bow ; but Ehglaud expected every man to do his 
 duty that day, and it was nobly done. As for the 
 " Santa Anna," she was soon compelled to strike ; 
 and the Spanish captain coming on board to surrender 
 his sword, was told that the name of the ship was the 
 "Royal Sovereign." 
 
 " I think she should be called the 'Royal Devil,' " 
 he exclaimed in broken English, as he patted one of 
 the guns with his hand. 
 
 When his illustrious friend fell mortally wounded, 
 the chief command devolved on Colhngwood, who, for 
 his brave exploits and signal services on this and for- 
 mer occasions, was created a peer, honored with the 
 thanks of Parliament, and rewarded with a pension 
 and the freedom of several cities. On the day follow- 
 ing the victory he issued an order for a general thanks- 
 giving to Almighty God, for having mercifully crowned 
 the exertions of the fleet with success. His position 
 now became peculiarly arduous and difficult. He 
 had the responsible task of managing the political re- 
 lations of England with the countries bordering on the 
 Mediterranean, in addition to discharging the duties 
 appertaining to his naval command. He encountered 
 them with an unremitting industry, which speedily 
 brought on a disease fatal to his health. Yet believ- 
 ing that it was his duty to do so, and that he might 
 live once more to meet the French, he remained at his
 
 LORD COLLINGWOOD. 141 
 
 post, shattering his frame with toil, fatigue, and ex- 
 posure, and racking his mind witli perpetual care and 
 thought. At length his body began to swell and Iiis 
 legs to shrink ; so that his removal to England was 
 represented as indispensable. He accordingly surren- 
 dered his command, and embarked ; but he was not 
 destined to set foot on the soil whose freedom and 
 sacredness he had spent his strength in guarding. 
 On the 7th of March, 1810, he expired at sea, in his 
 sixtieth year. 
 
 His end was calm, peaceful, and resigned ; as his 
 life had been just, exemplary, and benevolent. Through- 
 out he had been sincerely religious, and most regular 
 in his attendance at divine worship. Even on Sun- 
 days, when the weather M^as such that the crew could 
 not assemble on deck, he was in the habit of retiring 
 to his cabin, and reading the service for the day. His 
 piety was utterly without pretense ; his acts of charity 
 were frequent ; and his ear was never shut against a 
 representation of real distress. He was strictly scrupu- 
 lous in his respect for inferiors, and particularly anxious 
 for the interests of those over whom he had authority. 
 His disposition was most repugnant to the exercise of 
 severity ; and though no man was better qualified by 
 nature to enforce proper discipline, his humanity and 
 refined sentiment rendered him averse to doing so by 
 extreme means. He looked up to his Creator with 
 devotion aud„. gratitude, and he regarded the lowly 
 witTi kindness and generosity.
 
 142 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 On their arrival in England, the bones of this brave 
 and vi'orthy admiral were consigned to the dust in St. 
 Paul's Cathedral, hard by the spot where the ashes 
 of Nelson repose. A monument has since been erected 
 to his memory by a grateful public ; and his services 
 well deserved such a recognition from a free people. 
 He lived, in deed and in truth, not for himself, but for 
 his country ; and he knew no fear but the fear of God. 
 He had, indeed, nobly done his duty to the last, sacri- 
 fieino' all personal considerations, with patriotic disin- 
 terestedness. Domestic enjoyment, quiet, health, life 
 itself, were in his eyes nothing compared with the 
 preservation of our shores and liberties from the great, 
 skiUful, and mighty foe, who planned earnestly and 
 labored anxiously for their conquest and destruction.
 
 LORD TEIGNMOUTH. 
 
 This estimable and religious laau was not endowed 
 with any of the splendid intellect of Pitt, nor with any 
 portion of the brilliant genius of Burke ; yet his abili- 
 ties were such, and so sufficiently recognized, that the 
 former, when in the pride of place and power, thought 
 prudent to nominate him for a trust hardly less import- 
 ant than his own, though without family influence or 
 connections ; and the latter, when denouncing the ad- 
 ministration of affairs in the East, to protest against 
 the appointment with feelings of which contempt as- 
 suredly formed not one of the ingredients. Indeed, 
 his career, so remarkably successful and extraordinary, 
 presents a pleasing and inciting example of a person 
 ^ngifted with any marvelous capacity raising himself 
 to become the peaceful and spotless ruler of millions 
 of human beings. 
 
 The family from which he derived descent was of 
 considerable antiquity in the county of Derby ; and in 
 former days several of its members had been returned 
 to the House of Commons. Being cormected, as times 
 changed, with India by a matrimonial alliance, one 
 of the race became a captain in the Company's ma- 
 rine ; and his son, while in the enjoyment of a lucra-
 
 144 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 tive situation as supercargo, man-ied, lor the second 
 time, the daughter of" an officer belonging to the same 
 service, and had two sons ; of" whom John Shore, 
 destined to fill one of the most splendid places on the 
 face of the earth, was born in London, on the 8th of 
 October, 1751. He was subsequently removed into 
 Essex, where his parents usually resided ; and there 
 the infancy of the future Governor-general of India, 
 was passed, much like that of other boys of his age 
 and condition. 
 
 These were the good old-fashioned days, when pa- 
 rents were not nervously apprehensive of any fatal 
 effects from dressing their sons in gannents befitting 
 their sex, and allowing them that degree of liberty 
 consistent with a proper attention to order. Accord- 
 ingly, at a very early age, Shore availed himself of the 
 license afforded him, and contrived, by hook or by 
 crook, to find his way to the roof of a very high barn, 
 the most elevated part of which he bestrode with an 
 utter and lucky unconsciousness of the extreme danger 
 to which he was exposed. Fortunately he was res- 
 cued from this perilous resting-place without any mis- 
 hap ; and, probably with a view of keeping him out 
 of such mischief in future, he was mounted every 
 mornmg on one of the coach-horses, before his father's 
 serving-man, and in this fashion rode to a school in 
 the vicinity ; to be initiated into learning at this rus- 
 tic establishment, and into the ways of the world as 
 'understood by ihe juveniles who attended it. He was
 
 LORD TEIGNMOUTH. 145 
 
 in good time removed to a seminary at Tottenham ; 
 and about the same date he lost his much-respected 
 father : but the surviving parent was a woman of 
 highly estimable character, polished maiurers, and 
 with such an annual income as enabled her to give 
 her two sons a liberal education. 
 
 Shortly after the melancholy event alluded to, John 
 Shore was destined to the service of the East India 
 Company, while he was yet a little boy, with a spare 
 frame, but sinevvy, and such as fitted him to take part 
 in, and enjoy puerile sports and pastimes. This ar- 
 rangement was brought about by an old friend of the 
 family, who was perhaps glad to secvire for the Com- 
 pany the prospective services of so thorough-bred an 
 aspirant as the son of a supercargo and the grandson 
 of a captain in their marine, unquestionably, might 
 claim to be. The offer of a writership was thus made, 
 and, as a matter of course, promptly accepted. This 
 affair being satisfactorily settled. Shore was removed 
 to a school at Hertford, where he delighted in being 
 admitted to an excellent library to improve his mind 
 and extend liis information. He, moreover, gratified 
 a natural taste for poetical compositions by risuig early 
 in the morning to feast his spirit on Pope's " Homer ;" 
 and he perused books of travel till his imagination had 
 been taken captive with the idea of such adventure, 
 that he longed, with as much enthusiasm as he was 
 capable of, to go (ni some expedition of discovery. 
 Such a desire would, in all probability, be rather 
 K
 
 146 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 heightened than otherwise by the prospect of ere long 
 sunning himself beneath an Eastern sky ; and appa- 
 rently his general interest in such matters did not soon 
 expire, from the anxiety he afterward manifested to 
 possess some account of Sir Joseph Banks's voyage 
 round the world, which otherwise would have been 
 of little moment to a youth exercising judicial func- 
 tions in India at the age of twenty, or thereabouts. 
 While at Hertford, Shore had what he considered a 
 miraculous escape from drowning, and which he ever 
 afterward ascribed to a special interposition of Provi- 
 dence in his behalf Along with a young companion, 
 he had gone to bathe in a river in the neighborhood 
 of the school ; and, in their haste and carelessness, 
 they had mistaken a deep pool for the place where 
 they usually immersed themselves. They were just 
 on the point of plunging in when a voice called on 
 them to wait, and, at the moment, an equestrian ap- 
 peared at their side, quite as suddenly and opportune- 
 ly as the two strange horsemen did at Lake Regillus. 
 He demanded if they could swim, and on being an- 
 swered in the negative, threatened them with a sharp 
 castigation unless they walked off immediately. Thus 
 menaced, and considering that they were at the mo- 
 ment liable to be lashed with peculiar facility and ef- 
 fect, the gentle youths clutched up their raiment, and, 
 in fear and trembling, fled from the spot. 
 
 While encouraging and cultivating his turn for gen- 
 eral hterature, Shore had not lagged behind his fellows
 
 LORD TEIGNMOUTH. 147 
 
 in the proper studies of the school ; and in the course 
 of time he was sent to Harrow, then flourishing under 
 the avispices of Dr. Siunner. There he was placed on 
 the fifth form, between Sheridan and Halhead ; Dr. 
 Parr being tutor of the three. Shore applied himself 
 to his classic studies, and showed so keen a sense of 
 their beauties that he became a gi'eat favorite with 
 the learned and fastidious head-master ; though it was 
 augured, that of the three leading boys, Halhead was 
 the one destined to immortal distinction. And while 
 events were proving the fallacy of this prognostication, 
 Harrovian prophets were preparing another proof of 
 the vanity of human anticipations by assigning to Sir 
 George Sinclair the prospective triumphal crouTi in 
 preference to Lord Byron and Sir Robert Peel. Shore 
 left when on the point of succeeding to the captaincy 
 of the school. Wlien Warren Hastings, at once the 
 ablest and most unscrupulous governor whom India 
 ever saw, obtained a writership and was shipped off' 
 to Bengal, his withdrawal from studies which seemed 
 likely to make so clever a youth one of the first scholars 
 of the age not only elicited an indignant remonstrance 
 from the master of Westminster, but even prompted 
 that worthy individual to make the generous and dis- 
 interested offer of sending so promising a pupil to Ox- 
 (brd at liis own expense ; but it does not appear that 
 the fate of the future friend, associate, and successor 
 of Hastings, excited equal interest or pity in the breast 
 of Dr. Sumner. However, their intimacy had become
 
 148 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 such that a correspondence was commenced between 
 them, which did not cease till death put a period to it. 
 
 When Shore left Harrow, it was found that, how- 
 ever accomplished his education had rendered him 
 generally, he was by no means possessed of a kind of 
 knowledge which the Company required their servants 
 to be perfect in, — namely, the keeping of accounts 
 with correctness. In order, therefore, to qualify him- 
 self for the post to which he had been nominated. 
 Shore was placed for a few months at an academy at 
 Hoxton, where he was initiated into the mysteries of 
 arithmetic and book-keeping, and fitted to enter upon 
 and pursue his duties, and return with a fortune, if he 
 escaped Asiatic tigers and the yellow fever. The 
 seminary, strangely enough, contained a young noble- 
 man, destined, like Shore, to enact the part of Gov- 
 ernor-general of India, namely, the Marquis of Has- 
 tings, whom, half a century later, he had an oppor- 
 tunity of reminding of their early acquaintance, when 
 the stately peer was on the point of embarking on the 
 administration of the affairs of that empire which had 
 been preserved and rendered durable by the vigor and 
 courage of his great namesake. 
 
 Toward the close of 1768 Shore sailed from En- 
 gland, in company with about a dozen of writers and 
 cadets, who proved a most disorderly set ; and about 
 the middle of the next year he set foot in Calcutta, 
 which then consisted of tenements, whose appearance 
 promised any thmg rather than comfort to the weary
 
 LORD TEIGNMOUTH. 149 
 
 and storm-tossed voyager. Nothing aspiring even to 
 the dignity of a brick house was to be seen, however 
 inelegant such a structure may be thought ; and the 
 town was rendered unhealthy by exposure to open 
 drains, which emitted smells little resembling those 
 of rose-water or meadow hay. This was no agreeable 
 place of residence for a lad whose health was so im- 
 paired that the companions of his voyage almost gave 
 him up as lost. Nevertheless he bore up against all 
 disadvantages, though scarcely having a single letter 
 of introduction ; and was, soon after his arrival, con- 
 signed for twelve months to a desk in the secret 
 political department, where he labored with exemplary 
 industry at the records. Though his income was fear- 
 fully small, he practiced the most stem economy 
 rather than rely on his mother for assistance ; while 
 so rare and rigid was his integrity, in an age when 
 Indian officials did not scruple to help themselves, 
 and thus make up for their limited salaries, that he 
 won the meritorious appellation of " honest John ;" 
 which in subsequent life, and in the midst of multitu- 
 dinous temptations, he never was guilty of forfeiting. 
 In 1770 Shore was nominated assistant to the 
 Provincial Council at Moorshedabad, where, deprived 
 of all real power, the Nabob of Bengal still resided, 
 with princely magnificence, and played at govern- 
 ment. While holding this office, the young writer 
 had the unexpected good fortune to be elevated to the 
 responsible position of a judge, at the immature age
 
 150 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 of nineteen. The fact of his being invested with large 
 and important juridical functions, furnishes a pretty 
 strong illustration of the remark of Hastings, as to ' ' the 
 boys of the service" being "the sovereigns of the 
 country." But this charge, so far from overwhelming 
 Shore, called forth the innate steadiness and persever- 
 ance of his character ; and he discharged the duties 
 with so much success, that, though he decided no 
 fewer than six hundred cases in a single year, there 
 were not more than two appeals against the justice of 
 Ills adjudication. Meanwhile his leisure hours were 
 diligently devoted to the improvement of his mind, 
 and to preparation for climbing the steep ascent that 
 yet lay, enveloped in shadow, between liim and the 
 height he was destined to reach with honor and 
 security. Perceiving what profit might arise from an 
 acquaintance with the Oriental languages, his industry 
 was immediately aroused to the undertaking ; and he 
 strove for proficiency in the Arabic, Persian, and Hin- 
 dostanee tongues. He did not neglect his former 
 learning, but kept a journal in Latin, that the lan- 
 guage might remain fresh in his memoi-y, and read 
 from several Greek authors with a similar object. 
 Still he imagined that the road to fortune and alfluence 
 was daily narrowing, and complained that hope, 
 patience, and perseverance, were all he had left ; 
 thougli most people would be inclined to consider such 
 qualities very sufiicient capital for an intelligent youth 
 who had hardly arrived at legal age. He was still
 
 LORD TEIGNMOUTH. 151 
 
 regretting that he had left England, when, after em- 
 ploying his knowledge of Oriental languages before the 
 Provincial Council at Moorshedabad, he was appointed 
 a member of the Board of Revenue, and thus plunged 
 into that long quarrel which was, as years rolled on, 
 transferred from the council-chamber of Calcutta to 
 Westminster Hall. He owed this promotion to the 
 opponents of Hastings, and was, besides, inclined to 
 sympathize in their opinions ; but he could not regard 
 the distracted state of affairs in British India without 
 dreading the influence it might have on his personal 
 fortunes. He felt the extreme difficulty that there 
 was of taking any course without endangering his 
 prospects, and he looked to the future with a gloomy 
 eye. At this crisis his good angel appeared, in the 
 shape of a sagacious old gentleman ; who, after listen- 
 ing to his expressions of doubt and anxiety, said, 
 "Young man, make yourself useful, and you will suc- 
 ceed." Shore, luckily for his own interests, accepted 
 the maxim as the rule of his life and conduct, — 
 frequently repeated it to, and inculcated it on, others ; 
 and he found the system it enjoined wonderfully 
 efficacious in promoting his interests under divers 
 circumstances. His opinions and feelings were avow- 
 edly hostile to the supremacy of Hastings ; and he 
 was employed to revise one of the bitter philippics 
 launched by the vain and rancorous Francis against 
 the dread governor, when the star of the latter was 
 thought to have fallen. Add to this, that Shore lent
 
 152 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 his pen to prepare a memorial against the Supreme 
 Court of Judicature, and its chief-justice, Sir Elijah 
 Impey, the former school-fellow, and now unprincipled 
 fool, of Hastings. These matters he managed with 
 all the skill and dexterity possible in the position of 
 affairs ; yet when Francis, baffled and utterly routed, 
 beat a retreat, it was with no small reason that Shore 
 conceived himself in danger of being consigned to 
 adversity. But his efforts to "make himself useful" 
 had been so apparent, that his services were deemed 
 well worth securing. 
 
 The now triumphant governor, however, bore no 
 good-will to Shore. He did not forget that the latter 
 had been among the allies of his adversaries ; and his 
 nature, though in some respects great, and even heroic, 
 was not forgiving, any more than righteous or merci- 
 ful. Yet when he abolished the provincial councils, 
 and instituted the Supreme Council of Four, the first 
 man whom he appointed to a seat in it recommended 
 that Shore should have the second. Hastings ex- 
 pressed much astonislmient at such a proposal : but 
 his adviser answered, " Appoint Mr. Shore, and in 
 six weeks you and he will have formed a friendship.'' 
 The prediction proved perfectly true ; Shore held his 
 position thus conferred for years, and frequently had 
 to appear as chief of the Board during the absence of 
 Hastings from the seat of government. He remained 
 in India till Hastings quitted it, in 1785, with tri- 
 umphal honors. They sailed for England in the same
 
 LORD TEIGNMOUTH. 153 
 
 ship, and, during the voyage, Hastings addressed to 
 Shore an imitation of an ode of Horace — an occupa- 
 tion of time which might not have occurred had he 
 scented the fiery tempest that was awaiting his arrival. 
 
 When separated from the dehghtful companion of 
 his voyage, whose conversation had been so pleasing, 
 Shore, the ever-prosperous hero of one maxim, had, 
 unfortunately, no opportunity of practicing it. His 
 mother had died the year before, and he was thus 
 deprived of the pleasure wliich he had often looked 
 forward to enjoying in her society. He felt dull and 
 solitary : he had been absent from the country for 
 more than sixteen years, and, doubtless, many of the 
 old friends who had watched his youthful career with 
 interest and satisfaction, had sunk into the grave. His 
 confirmed Indian habits were not quite conveiiient ; 
 he felt the want of sympathy ; and, perhaps, he began 
 to make the appalling discovery that it is not good for 
 man to be alone, and that a helpmate would be par- 
 ticularly acceptable. At all events, as fortune had 
 hitherto bestowed upon him success in life, chance 
 now threw a little romance in his way. 
 
 His younger brother had been educated to the cler- 
 ical profession, and was at this time residing with his 
 wife near Exeter. Thither Shore — tired of himself, 
 of his London friends, and of walks over Westminster 
 bridge before breakfast in cold November mornings — 
 bent his way. On arrival he found that his brother 
 and sister-in-law were from home ; but he found full
 
 154 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 and complete consolation for tlieir absence. A snow- 
 storm had detained at the house a young lady of great 
 personal attractions, by whom he had the felicity of 
 being courteously received and entertained. Their 
 interview was fatal to any dreams of celibacy in which 
 Shore might have indulged. Suddenly crept around 
 his heart a flame which would have seemed more 
 natural in the gay and gallant inhabitants of places 
 where Itahaii maidens lean on marble balconies on 
 warm nights, and listen to lovers' tales, than in the 
 sage and reflecting descendant of the ancient couple, 
 in whose memory " the Shore trees," sung of by Words- 
 worth, were planted on the summit of the Oker Hill ; 
 and who, moreover, had just exchanged his dwelling 
 amidst the garden-houses of Eastern nabobs for the 
 frost and sleet of an English winter. But if his love 
 was as sudden and inspiring as Romeo's, it was des- 
 tuied to be more happy in its results. Before the sun 
 had gone down his afl'ections were engaged ; he retired 
 to rest, doubtless pondering on what a day may bring 
 forth ; he was now as resolute in cultivating his 
 charmer's favor, as he had formerly been in making 
 himself useful : ere three months had gone over she 
 was his wife ; and, during half a century, they had 
 cause to be gi-ateful for the Providential snow-storm. 
 Within the fortnight after his marriage, Shore, per- 
 haps for the first time in his life, found it extremely 
 difficult to act on the principle which had hitherto 
 proved so advantageous. He was offered a seat in the
 
 LORD TEIGNMOUTH. 155 
 
 Supreme Council of Three, established under Pitt's In- 
 dia bill, and requested to return to the East, where it 
 was anticipated that his experience would be of in- 
 finite value to Lord Cornwallis, the newly-appointed 
 governor. His situation was a little perplexing ; but 
 at length he consented to forego the blessings of home 
 for the sake of advancing his fortunes, which were of 
 greater consequence shice he was no longer single. He 
 accordingly sailed from Portsmouth, and sought refuge 
 from his dark and distressing thoughts in a perusal 
 of the Company's records. He had again abundant 
 opportunities of proving his industry and usefulness ; 
 and particularly employed himself in the settlement 
 of the revenues of Bengal, Behar, and Oresa ; and in 
 1789, with increased reputation but impaired health, 
 set his foot once more on his native soil. He took up 
 his residence in the county where his infancy had 
 been spent, and appeared as a witness at the trial of 
 Hastings, of whose conduct he did not wholly approve ; 
 though he thought himself bound to treat it with m- 
 dulgence. 
 
 The adventures of John Shore were not yet ended. 
 He was called upon once more to " make himself 
 useful," and to reap the fruits of having done so in 
 times past. He had gone to Devonshire to take a long 
 lease of a house there, when intelligence reached him 
 that Lord Cornwallis had resigned his high office, and 
 that the succession to it was witliin his grasp. Pitt 
 wished to introduce into the English empire in the
 
 156 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 East the pacific system which he had led ParUament 
 to enjoin, and rightly conjectured that Shore was the 
 man to do so with eiiect. The ofter; however, was so 
 unexpected and undesired, that he at first resolved on 
 declining the high distinction, and hurried to London 
 to explam his reasons for taking such a course. On 
 returning home and announcuig this refusal to his 
 wife, she disinterestedly begged him to sacrifice all 
 domestic consideration ; and thus persuaded, he de- 
 clared he saw that he must be a great man in spite 
 of his teeth, and received the splendid and lucrative 
 appointment. Burke immediately protested against 
 the office being filled by one who had been connected 
 with Hastings ; but the Court of Directors answered, 
 that Shore was regarded by their body as one of the 
 ablest and most upright servants of the Company. 
 Having been previously created a baronet, he set sail 
 in the autumn of 1792, and after a long voyage 
 reached, in the brilliant capacity of Governor-general, 
 the same tovra which he had once entered, appar- 
 ently in a dying state, to write for an annual salary of 
 twelve pounds a year, to pay an exorbitant rate for 
 a wretched and unwholesome lodging, and to endure 
 poverty with the consoling assurance that if he made 
 himself useful he would succeed. 
 
 Soon after the arrival of Sir John Shore in India, 
 the celebrated Sir William Jones died ; and Shore, 
 who afterward became the biographer of the great 
 scholar, succeeded him in the presidency of the Asiatic
 
 LORD TEIGN MOUTH. 15? 
 
 Society. On taking the chair lie paid an eloquent 
 tribute to the virtues of his deceased iriend. He took 
 measures for the advancement of true reUgion in Ben- 
 gal, and was corresponding with several eminent men 
 on the subject when he was plunged into a war with 
 the Rohillas — the sequel to that sanguinary contest 
 upon which Hastings had entered under circumstances 
 so unjustifiable. A single battle, however, settled the 
 matter. 
 
 In 1796, Sir John Shore had introduced to him no 
 less famous a personage than the future illustrious 
 hero of Waterloo. On that occasion he remarked, that 
 if Colonel Wellesley ever had an opportunity of distin- 
 guishing himself, he woidd do it greatly. It appears 
 that Sir John was successful in such prophetic eHbrts ; 
 for he is related to have expressed a similar prediction 
 in reference to Sir Robert Peel, when that eminent 
 politician was entering upon his eventful and muta- 
 ble career. 
 
 In 1797, Shore had the honor of an Irish peerage 
 bestowed upon him ; and next year relinquished his 
 office, and sailed for England, when he was succeeded 
 by the Marquis of Wellesley. The peaceiul policy he 
 had pursued then went out of fashion ; it was con- 
 demned by his successors ; and he took little concern 
 in Indian affairs, though nominally a member of the 
 Board of Control, and a privy-councilor of Indian 
 appeals. 
 
 Long after returning to his native land for the third
 
 158 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 time, after a long, arduous, and successful career, when 
 gliding quietly down the stream of life, Lord Teign- 
 mouth was nominated President of the British and 
 Foreign Bible Society on its formation, a dignity, the 
 duties of which he was well fitted to discharge. He 
 was a man of the utmost philanthropy ; and the spread 
 of divine truth and light among nations and people 
 sitting in darkness was an enterprise into which he 
 was calculated to enter with an ardor assuredly not 
 exhibited in his worldly pursuits, nor displayed in his 
 poetic effusions. 
 
 The remainder of Lord Teignmouth's private life 
 was that of a refined and well-educated English gen- 
 tleman. He appeared to his neighbors an amiable, 
 estimable, and religious man, who could hardly have 
 cared much for the pomp and power to which his use- 
 fulness had conducted him. He died in peace and 
 honor, in 1833, leaving a name which is associated 
 with industry, excellence, integrity, and humanity ; 
 not with high genius, indeed, but with all those quali- 
 ties of heart and soul which give a man comfort and 
 happiness during the days of his earthly pilgrimage, 
 and impart consolation to his spirit in the hour when 
 the lamp of life is flickering and about to expire.
 
 DEAN MILNER. 
 
 In the middle of the last century, hard by a church 
 dedicated to St. Mary — on a spot at that time con- 
 sidered somewhat rru-al in appearance, but since ab- 
 sorbed by the even then very populous town of Leeds 
 — stood an humble, vuiomamented cottage, the outer 
 door of which was studded Avith nails, like that of an 
 ancient peel or a modern prison-house ; and there a 
 "Xorifshire weaver, of the name of Milner, lived in 
 comparative poverty. He is stated to have been char- 
 acrerized by sagacity, industry, and self-denial, but 
 nevertheless had not proved particularly successful in 
 the trade he followed ; having besides, like many per- 
 sons of a higher rank, suffered severely from the effects 
 of tne rebellion of 1745. Though not blessed with 
 much intellectual culture, he had, as is common with 
 his class, a full appreciation of the manifold advant- 
 agoo of a sound education ; and vowed that he would 
 not shrnik from personal sacrifices that his children 
 mignt at all events enjoy that invaluable possession. 
 He was already the father of two boys, one of M'hom 
 afterward attained worthy celebrity, when, on the 1 1th 
 of January, 1750, Isaac Milner, the third of the fam- 
 ily, first saw the light.
 
 160 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 So many of those famous personages whose illus- 
 trious footprints have been traced in the foregoing 
 pages, with a view to the encouragement of youths 
 aspiring to excellence, could boast of gentle lineage 
 and hereditary associations, that it is impossible not 
 to experience something like a sensation of relief, and 
 to feel the charm of variety, in turning to the career 
 of a man without any such pretensions — not incited 
 by the ambition of adding to a name that had been 
 feared or respected m another day, and whose position 
 in early life was not rendered easy by wealth, or 
 "shone upon from the past." Cradled under the roof 
 of a cottage, apprenticed during seven years as a fac- 
 tory boy, and clutched from the loom by fraternal par- 
 tiality, to be employed as usher in a provincial school, 
 he raised himself by intellectual vigor and persever- 
 ance to places of honor and importance ; and he was 
 extolled among liis great, learned, and reverend con- 
 temporaries, in his various characters of academic, 
 historian, divine, and philosopher. 
 
 From infancy, or, in any case, as far back as his 
 memory would go, Milner was animated by a strong 
 afFection for his elder brother, author of the well-known 
 " Church Histor}^" who, in piu'suance of their sensible 
 parents' laudable resolution, had been placed at the 
 grammar-school of the town. Doubtless, by one so 
 closely vmited to him in bonds of tenderness and rela- 
 tionship, the future dean would in childhood be taught 
 to read, and inspired with that restless and singular
 
 DEAN MILNER. 161 
 
 love of knowledge which rendered him, in later days, 
 so peculiarly eager and ardent in the pursuit, acquisi- 
 tion, and investigation of any subject which circum- 
 stances brought under his notice or chance cast in his 
 way, no matter how unconnected ordinary mortals 
 might deem it with the regular duties and avocations 
 pertahiing to the station he occupied. The elder 
 brother, originally intended to pursue his father's trade, 
 soon became so distinguished in the school, that one 
 of the teachers was hi the habit of recommenduig his 
 pupils to apply to Joseph Milner's memory in regard 
 to questions of history and mythology, observmg that 
 he was more easily consulted than dictionaries, or the 
 Pantheon, and quite as much to be relied on. The 
 natives of the hamlet speedily began to gaze at him 
 as a " marvelous boy," and testified their respect by 
 calling him " the learned lad." Nor at the fireside 
 of the family cottage did he lack encouragement. The 
 earnest artisan manifested the utmost desire that the 
 young scholar should have every aid within their reach 
 to promote his improvement in learning, and one Sat- 
 urday night astonished the little circle by the tidings 
 that he had just spent the money which ought to have 
 purchased a joint of meat on a Greek book for his son, 
 being unable to procure both out of the slender earn- 
 mgs of the week. The brothers forced theh way to- 
 gether through great difficulties ; each arrived at dis- 
 tinction in his sphere of labor ; and perhaps few more 
 pleasuig instances of brotherly love continuuig could 
 L
 
 162 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 be cited than that Avhich they, from first to last, ex- 
 hibited. As early as his sixth year, little Isaac was 
 led by the hand of his future benefactor to school, 
 whither he coutmued to trudge daily for some years 
 under the same guidance and protection. His progress 
 in juvenile studies was most rapid and satisfactory : 
 he soon learned to translate Ovid and Saliust with 
 tolerable correctness ; and he, in due time, commenced 
 taking lessons in Greek, under auspices which must 
 have delighted his father's heart, and tempted his im- 
 agination, however calm, to indulge in visions of a 
 golden future for the hopeful boy. 
 
 In the ninth year of his age, Milner's young mind 
 had the advantage of being opened and impressed by 
 a visit to the mighty metropolis, though how, at that 
 date, he happened to be taken on such a journey un- 
 fortunately does not appear. However, he is related 
 to have been in London when news of the capture of 
 Q,uebec by General Wolfe arrived. It was bawled 
 through the streets by watchmen at the midnight 
 hour, and bonfires blazed in triiunph ; and then he 
 was told, for the first time, about grim-visaged war 
 and the odious French. Assuredly he heard enough 
 of them before the close of his long life, in that age of 
 great and portentous events. 
 
 About this period the father of the Milners was cut 
 oft' amidst his efforts to educate his offspring and pro- 
 mote their welfare ; and thus seemed to be defeated 
 all the wishes and hopes which the cleverness of the
 
 DEAN MILNER. 163 
 
 traveled little lads had created in the bosoms of their 
 friends. It was necessary, indeed, to make the hest 
 of matters ; and the elder brother being otherwise dis- 
 posed of, it was deemed prudent to put Isaac out to a 
 trade. The town being one of the greatest markets 
 for woolen cloth in the kingdom, the inhabitants of the 
 surrounding villages were employed in the manufac- 
 ture. Accordingly, Milner was sent to work at and be 
 initiated mto the mysteries of a factor)', which, in his 
 case, must have been sadly against the grain. Kirke 
 White, when placed in a situation somewhat similar, 
 complained of being most unhappy, and of wanting 
 something to occupy his brain. And Milner, doubt- 
 less, had little more relish than the boy-poet of" Clifton 
 Grove," who perished in his youthful fame, for the 
 trade to which he was now apparently doomed for 
 life. To a youth conscious of great abilities, and 
 whose extraordinary faculties had been already recog- 
 nized by teachers, such an occupation must have been 
 almost worse than the labor of a slave ; for, praise- 
 worthy as aspirations after success, arising from the 
 practice of such honest industry, may generally be, 
 they were not of the kind to call forth those talents 
 which subsequently made their possessor president of 
 a coUege, vice-chancellor of a university, professor in 
 the chair that had been occupied by Newton, dean of 
 a cathedral, and one of the most fascinating con- 
 versers oi" his generation in the country that produced 
 him, and also one of the most celebrated mathema-
 
 164 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 ticians and philosophers of his day. He studied, during 
 hours not devoted to work, Greek and Latin books ; 
 probably perused on Sundays the " Pilgrim's Progress," 
 which was always a source of real pleasure to his 
 spirit ; and perhaps even gained some acquaintance 
 with the works of Shakspeare, Milton, and other great 
 English authors, with which he was familiar in his 
 advanced years. He was soon to have larger oppor- 
 tunities and a fitter scene for the refreshment and 
 cultivation of his powerful mind, thirsting for knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 The rector of the grammar-school had manifested 
 much interest in the young Milners ; and they were 
 not quite unaided in their hour of need. By the gen- 
 erous exertions of several kind friends, and the well- 
 timed liberality of others, Joseph, the elder brother, had 
 been sent to Cambridge, and had there so conducted 
 and distinguished himself, that when he left the uni- 
 versity the head-mastership of the Hull grammar-school 
 was conferred vipon him, principally by the influence of 
 the grandfather of Wilberforce, an appointment which 
 led to a friendship not unimportant in its results to the 
 gentle philanthropist, and to the success of the views 
 he held. And now the heart of Joseph Milner was 
 turned toward the prospects of his brother, and he 
 pondered what could be done to promote his welfare 
 and happiness. He therefore requested one of the 
 clergymen in Leeds to examine the lad, in order to 
 ascertain and report as to his qualifications for becom.-
 
 
 MILNER RESCUED FROM THE LOOM.
 
 DEAN MILNEK. 167 
 
 iug usher in the school. The reverend gentleman 
 thus commissioned proceeded to the factory, where he 
 found Milner seated at work with a classical author on 
 each side. An examination fully proved, that though 
 removed for a considerable time frpm school, his dili- 
 gence and love of learning had, in the mean time, 
 amply supplied the place of instruction, and that he 
 was quite competent to undertake with propriety, and 
 discharge with credit, the tutorial duties in question. 
 There still remained the important part of the busi- 
 ness, which consisted in obtaining to the youth's leav- 
 ing the factory the consent of the owner, who, how- 
 ever, does not appear to have been so severe a task- 
 master as the imaginary Wodgate Bishop. In any 
 case, after a brief negotiation, he agreed to forego the 
 remaining years of the apprenticeship ; and entering 
 the work-plax'.e, he made the heart of young Milner 
 leap with joy and rejoice at the magic words, " Isaac, 
 lad, thou art off.'"' In after years, he did not forget 
 the comrades by whose side he had toiled and spun. 
 He was ever really and unaffectedly humble : ready to 
 acknowledge his original companions, and to minister 
 to their necessities if they were poor. He was never 
 ashamed of his juvenile employment, nor had he reason 
 to be so ; and when he encountered those who had 
 known or labored with him in obscurity, it was with 
 the same frankness, courtesy, and cordiality, but at 
 the same time with the shrewdness, animation, and 
 intrepidity, with which he met lordly guests at Rose
 
 168 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 or Lowther Castle. In this way he showed his rare 
 nobihty of soul. 
 
 Being happily freed from the manual labor which 
 was unsuited to his abilities, Milner repaired straight- 
 way to Hull, and proved a most efficient assistant in 
 the institution presided over by his brother. His de- 
 partment in the establishment was the instruction of 
 the younger pupils, among whom he found Wilber- 
 force, who was a lad of spirit, though delicate, and 
 considered so remarkable for his j)owers of elocution, 
 that it was customary to place him on a table and 
 make hiin read aloud for the benefit of the other boys. 
 Milner had, years before, besides constructing a sun- 
 dial, given evidence of a decided bias toward mathe- 
 matical studies; and he was now, while striving 
 to accomplish himself in the classics, formally in- 
 itiated into the elements of the science with so much 
 profit, that when the scholars were engaged with les- 
 sons in algebra, and any difficulty occurred, the usher 
 was immediately called upon to solve the problem, 
 which he usually did with a promptness and facility 
 not unworthy of one destined 1o be seated in the Lu- 
 casian chair. Joseph Milner had no cause to repent 
 of having saved the talents of his brother from being 
 lost amid the dust, noise, and wheels connected with 
 the preparation of woolen cloth for Russian and Ger- 
 man merchants ; and he acted toward his gifted rela- 
 tive with exemplary and beneficent kindness. The 
 j.een and steady energy with which the latter pursued
 
 DEAN MILNER. 169 
 
 any object of inquiry that was presented to his atten- 
 tion — a characteristic that sometimes even exposed 
 him to ridicule — was calculated to impart confidence 
 to any attempt made toward his promotion in life ; 
 ajid it was determined that he should, in the year 
 1770, go to the university at Avhich the reputation of 
 his brother had been formed. 
 
 It seems that the elder Milner accompanied the 
 embryo President of Glueen's College to his destination. 
 Their circumstances, as well as economical considera- 
 tions, led them to adopt, on their long journey, that 
 mode of traveling much more pleasant to contemplate 
 than experience, with which we are in some degree 
 familiar, from the descriptions of those great novelists 
 who flourished in the reign of the second George, and 
 who left such interesting pictures of life and manners 
 as exhibited at the period. They accomplished the 
 distance from Hull to Cambridge on foot, with occa- 
 sional lifts by the way in a wagon, to recover from 
 fatigue. On their arrival, Isaac was entered at Q,ueen's 
 College as a sizar, at a time when the privilege, in a 
 pecuniary point of view, which he enjoyed as such, 
 entailed the disagreeable necessity of performing vari- 
 ous menial but by no means humiliating duties. 
 Among these was ringing the chapel bell, and serving 
 up the first dish to the fellows at dinner. On one 
 occasion, when so busied, he was luckless enough to 
 overturn a mess of soup on the floor, instead of placing 
 it on the board, and was sharply rebuked for his awk-
 
 170 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 "ward clumsiness ; whereupon he excited much derisive 
 laughter by exclaiming, in the dialect of his native 
 country — " When I get into power, I'll do away with 
 this nuisance I" The threat, thus expressed on the 
 spur of the inoment by the modest and diffident sizar, 
 was more religiously executed than most promises 
 uttered in such a frame of mind ; and when raised to 
 academic dignity, he altogether abolished the services 
 of which that he had been rendering formed so irksome 
 and invidious a part. 
 
 Notwithstanding the inigrateful and troublesome 
 tasks thus devolved upon him, Milner's success at the 
 University was great. He enjoyed one advantage — 
 not always granted to men springing from so humble 
 an origin — in a personal appearance which could not 
 fail to prepossess beholders. His form, above the 
 usual height, was cast in admirable proportions, and 
 his presence striking ; and his regular and handsome 
 features expressed the talent of his brain, the benevo- 
 lence of his mind, the kindness of his heart, the serenity 
 of his temper, and the frankness of his dispositioir. 
 His mental faculties were, as time passed on, placed 
 beyond question by the brilliant success he achieved ; 
 and the fulness and variety of his colloquial powers 
 rendered him the soul of the circles he frequented, 
 either in Cambridge or London, and his listening audi- 
 ences comparatively subservient. His mind became so 
 marvelously comprehensive in its grasp, that it could 
 master the details of any subject ; and so universal
 
 DEAN MILNER. 171 
 
 was his iiil'orniatioii, that there were lew trades on 
 which he could not enhghten those M'ho made them 
 the business of their hves. He was, perhaps, a httle 
 more zealous than discreet in collecting his A'ast stores, 
 and he Avas in the habit of reflecting from them with 
 a pen in hand to take notes. 
 
 One very singular instance is given of his zeal in 
 the acquirement of apparently uncongenial knowledge. 
 Late in life, when his portrait, by Kerrick, was en- 
 graved, and his friends Avere anxious to have his coat- 
 Df-arms on the print, the then dean, on being applied 
 to, at once declared that he had, of course, no armorial 
 bearings, but he entertained no objection to be furn- 
 ished with such as had nothing ridiculous about them. 
 It was, however, a constant maxim with him that 
 any knowledge which comes in one's way is worth 
 gathering, and his attention being thus attracted to- 
 ward heraldiy, he procured books, and succeeded in 
 gaining much curious information on the subject in 
 which he had no natural interest. 
 
 Throughout his earthly existence, Milner was dis- 
 tinguished by piety, purity, and integrity ; and though 
 ready enough to converse on other subjects with sport- 
 ive levity, he never alluded to that of rehgion without 
 the utmost sincerity and the most becoming serious- 
 ness. On entering the University he studied inde- 
 fatigably, and with a result which must have been 
 highly gratifying to liis anxious relatives. In 1774 
 he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and that year
 
 1T^ FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 the moderators not only assigned him the dignity of 
 senior wrangler, but Kkewise the title of Incompara- 
 bilis. On attaining this distinction, Milner ran off, in 
 the pride of his heart and intellect, to indulge in the 
 extravagance of ordering a seal, with the head of his 
 immortal predecessor. Sir Isaac Newton, engraved 
 on it. 
 
 He was now admitted as a member of the Hyson 
 club, which had been formed in 1758, and could boast 
 of several names known to fame. About the same 
 period, the appointment of tutor to a Polish prince was 
 placed within his acceptance, but declined ; and his 
 reputation as a mathematician was so unquestioned, 
 that the papers he made out for the use of his pupils 
 were much prized ; and there even occurred an in- 
 stance of a bed-maker being bribed to procure some 
 of them by stealth, to be copied by a student belong- 
 ing to another college. Yet it was not merely with 
 mathematics that his attention was now occupied. 
 Various philosophical subjects were subjected to his 
 learned faculties ; his intellectual performances had 
 secured him Iriends, and he had shown the independ- 
 ence of spirit by standing alone, among the students 
 of the college, in a refusal to attach his name to a 
 petition against subscription to the Articles of the 
 Church. To this fact he referred with satisfaction in 
 later days, in his encounter with the Bishop of Peter- 
 borough, whose denunciation of the sin and danger of 
 giving people the Bible to read, unaccompanied by the
 
 DEAN MILNER. 173 
 
 Prayer-book, had brought him iiito the controversial 
 arena. 
 
 At the age of twenty-six Mihicr was ordained deacon, 
 and next year was admitted to priests' orders, having 
 in the interval been elected a fellow of his college, of 
 which he became tutor in 1777. At that date he 
 took the degree of Master of Arts. He got into the 
 habit of now and then assisting his friends by officiat- 
 ing in country churches in the neighborhood ; and he 
 was presented to the rectory of the parish of St. Botolph. 
 Milner had already contributed several papers to the 
 " Transactions of the E-oyal Society," of which he, in 
 due time, became a fellow ; and he was led to embark, 
 with all the ardor which characterized him, on the 
 study of chemistry. Eminently successful in this pur- 
 suit, he proceeded to deliver public lectures on the 
 science. It appears, however, that the experiments 
 he made considerably impaired his health ; and this 
 unfortunate circumstance prevented him from under- 
 taking much public labor in his clerical capacity ; but 
 he studied scripture and theology with critical interest, 
 and thus laid the foundation of his extensive knowl- 
 edge of divinity. He was in the habit of going to 
 spend part of the Cambridge long vacation with his 
 brother, in whose house now resided their aged mother, 
 a woman of mental vigor and activity, and to whose 
 shrewd and talkative humor several amusing anec- 
 dotes bear witness. When at Hull, in this way, Mil- 
 ner disdained not to return to liis duties as usher. To
 
 174 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 the boys he could be gay and frohcsome, and they 
 reUshed alike his playful manner and the clearness 
 with which he explained what they could not under- 
 stand without such assistance. 
 
 In 1784, Milner was chosen Jacksonian Professor 
 of Natural and Experimental Philosophy ; and in the 
 same year took part in the institution of a society for 
 the advancement of philosophy and general literature, 
 which only enjoyed a brief existence. 
 
 Wlien Wilberforce was living in the house of an 
 aunt, who held Methodistical views of religion, and 
 was suspected of being impi'essed with such doctrines, 
 his rich and sapient grandsire delivered himself of this 
 alarming and oracular saying : " Billy shall travel 
 with Milner when he is of age ; but if Billy turns 
 Methodist, he shall not have a sixpence of mine." It 
 did come to pass that, after Wilberforce was elected 
 member for his native shire, and his acquaintance 
 with Milner was renewed, he requested the company 
 of his former insti-uctor on a Continental tour. Ac- 
 cordingly they started on their excursion in the autumn 
 of 1784, accompanied by the young, Avealthy, and 
 eloquent senator's female relatives. It is related that, 
 during this expedition, the travelers being on one oc- 
 casion in imminent danger of being dashed over the 
 brink of a precipice, from the w^eight of their vehicle 
 overpowering the horses, Milner leaped out, and, grasp- 
 ing the wheels, exerted his great physical strength so 
 efiectually, thai ihe danger was obviated. During
 
 l: 
 
 DEA.N MILNER. 175 
 
 their wayfarings they met, in Switzerland, the cele- 
 brated Lavater, in whose conversation Milner was 
 much interested. Shortly afterward Milner visited his 
 friend at Bath, when " the volatile representative of 
 the county of York" was attacked by a serious illness, 
 and subsequently at his temporary residence in West- 
 moreland, which being filled with guests of distinction, 
 furnished the divine with a fair field for the display 
 of his wonderful power and versatility. He held con- 
 versations with his host on religious subjects, and 
 exercised no slight influence on the mind and opinions 
 of the great philanthropist, in whose schemes for the 
 freedom and welfare of the human race he warmly 
 sympathized. 
 
 In the year 1786 Milner took his degree of Bache- 
 lor of Divinity, and about the same time was an active 
 member of the Board of Longitude, instituted for the 
 purpose of considering and reporting to government 
 any discoveries calculated to mitigate the perils of 
 navigation. He was regarded as one of the most 
 talented men at Cambridge, where he was considered 
 as an excellent lecturer. As Jacksonian professor he 
 gave alternate courses on chemistry and experimental 
 philosophy, the former of which were especially well 
 attended ; and he continued to occupy the chair till 
 his preferment to ecclesiastical dignity. 
 
 About his thirty-eighth year he was elected Presi- 
 dent of GLueen's College ; and in this capacity he is 
 reported to have aimed at affording encouragement to
 
 176 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 learned men belonging to the foundation, and inti'o- 
 ducing sucli improvements in the reformation of 
 abuses, and other means, as were calculated to con- 
 duce to the welfare of the students, and the honor of 
 the university. Four years later he took the degree 
 of Doctor of Diviruty, on being appointed to the dean- 
 ery of Carlisle, of which he took formal possession by 
 reading prayers in the cathedral. As a preacher he 
 was most efiective : his voice, in which he took pride, 
 was sonorous and magnificent ; his eloquence was, on 
 the whole, dignified and impressive ; and when it was 
 known that he was to preach, as he was in the habit 
 of doing almost every Sunday during his periodic 
 residence, in the cathedral of the ancient city, the 
 aisles and every part of the building were thronged 
 with people of all religious persuasions. Indeed it 
 was remarked, that on such occasions you might walk 
 on the heads of the crowd ; and even those who did not 
 entirely agree with his doctrines, admitted the ability 
 with which they were urged, and the striking light 
 in which they were placed. Nor did he court popu- 
 larity by the brevity of his discourses ; for we read, 
 that on an Ash Wednesday he preached to a throng- 
 ing congregation in the chapel of Whitehall, on "the 
 one thing needful," for no shorter space than an hour 
 and twenty minutes. 
 
 Milner's presentation to the deanerj' was closely 
 followed by his election to the Vice-chancellorship of 
 the University, of which he was so distinguished a
 
 DEAN MILNER. 177 
 
 resident ; and in 1809 he was unexpectedly re-elected 
 
 to the office : having, in the mean time, been call- 
 ed to fill the mathematical chair, which a centurj 
 earher had been occupied by the ever-illustrious New- 
 ton. 
 
 The ties which, amidst all his triumphs, had hither- 
 to been instrumental in bmding the Dean of Carlisle 
 to the world, were about this period weakened by 
 domestic losses. His mother had already gone to her 
 grave ; and in 1797 his brother, who had just been 
 appointed to the vicarage of Hull, breathed his last. 
 The latter bereavement touched Milner's heart to the 
 core ; he began to feel less concern with earthly affairs, 
 to exhibit greater earnestness in his professional duties, 
 and to set his affections more steadfastly on things 
 above. His life, indeed, was far from being without 
 its enjoyments and consolations. He looked upon his 
 sum.mer residence at Carlisle as, in some measure, a 
 period of relaxation, associated on terms of intimacy 
 with the families in the vicinity, and derived pleasure 
 from the hospitalities that were practiced, and the 
 company that assembled at the mansions of Lord 
 Lonsdale and the bishop of the diocese. He was 
 prepared to converse with those whom he met on the 
 subjects with which they were most familiar, in a 
 style joyous, jocund, or grandiloquent. " He talked, 
 also, to his chosen and intimate friends," it has been 
 said, with power, "but not in the same fitful strain. 
 To them, from the abundance of the heart, he spoke 
 M
 
 i7B FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 on the theme which engages the latest thoughts of all 
 men, the retrospect and the prospect ; the mystery 
 within, and the dread presence without ; the struggle, 
 and the triumph, and the fearful vengeance ; and 
 whatever else is involved in the relations which sub- 
 sist between mortal man and the eternal source of his 
 existence. To search into those relations, and into 
 the duties, and hopes, and fears flowing from them, 
 was the end which Isaac Milner still proposed to him- 
 self, under all his own ever-varying moods." 
 
 Milner, with afiectionate devotion to the memory 
 of his deceased brother, repaid the essential obligations 
 which in youth he had incurred, by editing and im- 
 proving the " Church History," written to disseminate 
 the theological views he held ; and added thereto a 
 biographical sketch of the author. Nor, in the midst 
 of affluence and reputation, did he forget the wants 
 of his more humble relatives ; to whose necessities, as 
 to those of the poor of his native place, he ministered 
 with a bountiful hand. In Carlisle, also, he contri- 
 buted toward the various objects of public charity ; he 
 was ever anxious to serve those who, in private, 
 apphed to him for assistance ; and he subscribed liber- 
 ally toward the erection of the new churches, which 
 were rendered necessary by the large population of the 
 old Border city. 
 
 In 1819, having previously been introduced to Dr. 
 Chalmers, Milner wrote to the magistrates of Edin- 
 burgh, urging the claims to the Professorship of Natu-
 
 DEAN MILNER. 179 
 
 ral Philosophy in their gift, and then vacant, of that 
 eminent Scottish divine, wrhom he described as " a man 
 of great genius, varied talents, and sound principles, 
 both religious and civil." 
 
 After attauiing the age of threescore and ten years, 
 this distinguished man died on the 1st of April, 1820, 
 and was, buried in the chapel of that college of M^hich 
 by intellectual industry he had risen to be the head.
 
 DAVID HUME, 
 
 Though any attempt to excuse or palliate Hume's 
 erroneous views and opinions in regard to religion— - 
 the dissemination of which he is said to have regret- 
 ted — would be little less than high treason against 
 Christianity and civilization, his example, in other re- 
 spects, is of infinite value. His career was character- 
 ized by resolution, independence, and self-command, at 
 a time when these qualities were not much in fashion ; 
 and his life is a lasting protest against the idea, that 
 the habits of a literary man are necessarily lax in re- 
 spect to pecuniary affairs. Moreover, he must be ac- 
 knowledged as prince among the historians of England. 
 He still retains his ascendency after the lapse of an 
 eventful century ; and his great \A'ork is looked to as 
 the natural source of information on the subject of 
 which it treats. The intelligent reader is animated 
 by feelings of admiration after perusing its inimitable 
 pages ; while the less informed goes to it for guidance 
 and instruction. Yet much of this mighty memorial 
 of his great intellect was composed in the face of a re- 
 ception so galling to a proud spirit, and so discouraging 
 to a heart panting for fame, that most men would, un- 
 der the circumstances, have thrown do-wn the pen in
 
 DAVID HUME. 181 
 
 blank dismay ; but Hume, notwithstanding his tem- 
 porary disgust, had courage and genius fully equal to 
 the occasion. He felt how glorious was the prize at 
 stake, and pushed bravely forward to snatch it. And 
 it is, indeed, impossible too highly to admire the calm, 
 intrepid, unshrinking perseverance he displayed in thus 
 consummating, in spite of all the clamor that the ear- 
 liest volumes elicited, a work which he ere long had 
 the consolation of knowing the world would not will- 
 ingly let die. Such, doubtless, has often been the lot 
 of those who write for immortality I 
 
 The pedigree of this illustrious personage, who frank- 
 ly confessed to the charm of an ancient name, was 
 such as might satisfy the most exacting genealogist. 
 Indeed, it is traced in the books of heralds, through 
 potent barons and mighty earls, to the Saxon conquer- 
 ors of Britain ; though it does not appear that he was 
 fully aware of a fact, which, to say the least, would 
 have been reflected on with complacency. But as the 
 subject is not altogether uninteresting to many, it may 
 be here adverted to with brevity. 
 
 When the Norman Conquest took place, a North- 
 umbrian prince — whose grandmother was daughter 
 of an English king, and whose brother became, by 
 marriage with the heiress of the Nevilles, progenitor 
 of those barons slain on the field of Barnet — was driv- 
 en to seek refuge on the north side of the Tweed, where 
 he founded that powerful feudal connection known as 
 the house of Dunbar, which fell in the fifteenth cen-
 
 182 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 tury. One of its branches, and the inheritor of much 
 of its power, was the baronial family of Home, whose 
 chiefs bestoM'ed such lands as came into their posses- 
 sion on their younger sons. One of these cadets — the 
 historian's ancestor — was thus gifted with Tyning- 
 hame, a fertile estate in Lothian ; but being, unhke 
 his remote descendant, on irreclaimable spendthrift, he 
 totally dis.sipated this paternal grant. It happened, how- 
 ever, that his son, a youth of promise, was received 
 into favor by the head of the clan, and planted at the 
 Ninewells, on the pleasant banks of the "VVhitadder, 
 where his successors, whose names no minstrel has 
 sung, vegetated for three hundred years. In fact, 
 though residing close to the Border, they do not appear 
 to have fought in the wars which desolated the vicin- 
 ity, nor even to have speculated in the precarious trade 
 of cattle-lifting. They seem neither to have been pu- 
 issant knights nor " rank reivers ;" nor were they in 
 request when a charter was to be attested, or an eldest 
 son served heir to his father. But they paid a species 
 of " black mail" to the English captain of Berwick, 
 received protection, lived in peace, speared salmon, 
 and cultivated their fruitful lands. In the reign of 
 dueen Anne, one of these lairds, whose sii'e's heart's 
 blood seems to have stained the blade of an exaspera- 
 ted sheriff, A\'ent in youth to the Scottish capital, and 
 was in due time called to the bar ; but without pur- 
 suing the legal profession further. He was considered 
 a man of attainments, and took to wife, in 1708, the
 
 DAVID HUME. 183 
 
 (laughter of Sir David Falconer, Lord President of the 
 College of Justice. By this lady he had two sons and 
 a daughter, of whom David Hume M^as born, at Edin- 
 burgh, on the 2Gth of April, 1711. 
 • The consideration of a distinguished lineage cer- 
 tainly imparted to Hume's heart a calm satisfaction 
 and colored, though in the slightest degree, his writ- 
 ings ; but as he was deficient in sympathy with the 
 past, it could not nifringe on his philosophic mind, 
 perplex his clear intelligence, or influence his serene 
 judgment. The political sentiments in Avhich he was 
 nurtured were destined to exercise a much greater 
 efl^ect on his life and works. His father's residence 
 was situated in a district where the lords of the soil 
 were, with rare exceptions, deeply tinged with Jacobite 
 principles. Their interest and inclination alike prompt- 
 ed an adherence to the cause of the ancient line of 
 kings ; and at the very time when the future historian 
 fii'st saw the light, the accession to power of a Tory 
 ministry had conveyed hope and animation to their 
 breasts. Thus when he began to creep about and 
 lisp forth inarticulate sounds, complaints of real in- 
 juries and imaginary insults sustained by his relatives 
 since the Revolution would greet his childish ears, and 
 perhaps enter into his young soul. In his fourth year, 
 these restless worthies proposed to hold a public meet- 
 ing with a view of obtaining a redress of their griev- 
 ances ; but as the authorities deemed that it might 
 prove a cause of embarrassment to the newly-estab-
 
 184 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 lished government, it was sternly interdicted, and pre- 
 cautions were taken to repress any attempt to disobey 
 the official mandate. David's fierce clansmen bit their 
 gloves, shook their heads, and vowed revenge. Sev- 
 eral of them risked and lost all in the insurrection of 
 1715 ; his chief and a near kinsman were committed 
 to the Castle of Edinburgh for their devotion to the 
 house of Stuart ; and amidst scenes of tumult, disorder, 
 and confiscation, the first few years of Hume's life 
 passed over. Perhaps, indeed, to his brother and him- 
 self having been minors at the time may be ascribed 
 their not having assumed the white cockade, and that 
 the acres held for centuries by their ancestors were 
 not appropriated by some intriguing agent for forfeited 
 estates, or seized by a factor with few scruples of con- 
 science and sufficient dexterity in arithmetical mysti- 
 fication. 
 
 At an early age — indeed almost in infancy — Hume 
 lost his father ; and his widowed mother, though 
 young and handsome enough to have aspired with 
 success to a second husband, devoted her whole time 
 and attention to the rearing and education of her chil- 
 dren. David soon began to manifest an ardent love 
 for his books. As a boy he was particularly docile, 
 well behaved, and attentive to his studies, without 
 being remarkable for the display of precocious talents. 
 The family property had, of course, gone to his elder 
 brother ; and as the portion of a second son was not 
 such as to encourage for a moment the idea of passing
 
 DAVID HUME. <85 
 
 his life without labor, he felt under the necessity of 
 bringing his abilities into active operation. With this 
 view he was sent to fit himself for exertion by com- 
 pleting his education at the university of his native 
 city, Avhere ho went through the usual academic 
 course with comparative credit and success. 
 
 His extraordinary ability at this period is beyond 
 all question, for a letter written to a youthful intimate 
 at the age of sixteen proves that his marvelous talent 
 was then exhibiting itself. Having been fired with 
 that enthusiasm for literature which continued to be 
 his ruling passion and chief delight, he impressed his 
 guardians with a high opinion of his studious disposi- 
 tion ; and they, taking into account his steadiness of 
 conduct and sobriety of demeanor, arrived at the con- 
 clusion, that the Scottish bar would be a proper sphere 
 for the exercise of that intellectual Industiy of which 
 he daily gave signal proofs. His tastes, however, were 
 rather unsuited to pursviing the profession successfully ; 
 and he states that he was generally engaged in de- 
 vouring Cicero and Virgil while he was supposed to 
 be occupied with the more practical studies of Voet 
 and Vlnnius. At eighteen the law appeared utterly 
 nauseous to him, and his aversion to it as the business 
 of life became extreme. He pondered and reflected ; 
 he could think of no other method to push his way 
 in the world than as a scholar and philosopher, and 
 this prospect pleased him infinitely for a season ; but 
 his health giving way under the pressure of severe
 
 18C FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 mental application, a reaction came, and his ardor 
 quite expired. He abandoned all thoughts of the law 
 as a profession, and removed to the residence of his 
 brother. The change of air and scene had a beneficial 
 influence, and the young philosopher applied to the 
 family doctor to restore his health and spirits. The 
 latter laughed at his patient's imaginary ailments ; 
 but, at the same time, accompanied his unwelcome 
 raillery by the extremely palatable advice to drink a 
 pint of claret a day, and take plenty of equestrian ex- 
 ercise. Hume attended to the prescription, daily swal- 
 lowed a proper quantity of the grateful beverage, and 
 rode some ten or twelve miles on horseback. Though 
 caring little for rural pleasures, pursuits, or recrea- 
 tions, he seems to have really enjoyed himself at this 
 period : he soon gathered strength from his exercise 
 in the open air ; and, from being a tall, lean, and 
 raw-boned lad, he passed to the other extreme — his 
 complexion became ruddy and his countenance cheer- 
 ful. His pursuits seem to have been diversified. He 
 studied Latin, English, French, and Italian. He read 
 books of morality, and was captivated with their 
 beautiful representations of virtue and philosophy ; 
 and he listened, not without gratification, to stories 
 about the fortunes of their race from some knightly 
 clansman or old freeholder. The traditionary lore and 
 local associations were apparently, it must be confess- 
 ed, quite lost upon him : he was without local ambi- 
 tion : and the scenes of his boyhood, when he has
 
 DAVID HUME. 187 
 
 occasion to mention them, are alluded to with the 
 same cold dignity with which he writes of places 
 which he had never seen. His intellect was so severe- 
 ly original, tliat it disdained to draw one particle of 
 inspiration from buildings and battle-plains which 
 have since been invested with so pleasing a charm, 
 and made the subject of glowing verse. There is no 
 sign of his having viewed Norham Castle, Flodden 
 Field, and Halidon Hill, or ridden through " the rich 
 Merse," and perambulated the ancient capital of the 
 eastern marshes, or gazed on the " desolate grandeur" 
 of Home, with romantic enthusiasm, poetic percep- 
 tion, or provincial pride. While accumulating in- 
 formation in regard to distant countries with industry 
 and rapidity, he altogether neglected or scorned the 
 precious metals which lay in his way ; and while con- 
 templating the perfections of Roman poets, he had 
 not a thought to spare to the Border ballad-makers, 
 whose verses Scott toiled to preserve and restore. He 
 had therefore small temptation to linger amidst the 
 fields, meadows, and woods through which he had 
 roamed in his thoughtful childhood. He felt, indeed, 
 that such an expenditure of time was by no means in 
 harmony with his circumstances ; and, believing that 
 business and diversion would give him peace of mind 
 and relief from anxiety, he resolved to betake himself 
 to a more active life, and entered on a course, of all 
 others, at variance with his natural bent toward 
 studious retirement and philosophic reflection — that
 
 188 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 of commerce. In doing so, he confessed that he could 
 never wholly give up his pretensions in learning but 
 with his latest breath. He merely laid them aside 
 for the time, with a view of resuming them to greater 
 advantage. In reality, he was actuated by an ardent 
 and consuming passion to achieve literary fame and 
 found a philosophical reputation when he formed his 
 determination — a most inauspicious frame of mind, 
 assuredly, with which to enter upon the harsh duties 
 of mercantile existence I 
 
 About the beginning of March, 1734, Hume started 
 for Bristol. He visited London in his way, and then 
 traveled onward. He had obtained introductions to 
 several leading merchants in the place ; and on reach- 
 ing his destination established himself in the counting- 
 house of one of them, in the hope of forgetting the 
 past, preparing for the future, and enriching himself 
 by commerce. But the petty cares, the perpetual 
 bustle, and the perennial annoyances of such a career, 
 were found, as might have been anticipated, utterly 
 intolerable to a person to whom legal studies had 
 appeared irksome and unattractive ; and, after a few 
 months' trial, he relinquished his new situation, with 
 aU its coarse, uncongenial duties, and those prospects 
 of remuneration which are so seldom realized. 
 
 Hume had already, according to his own statement, 
 collected materials for many volumes. He, therefore, 
 passed over to France, with the view of prosecuting his 
 studies in some rural retreat. No doubt he could have
 
 DAVID HUME. 189 
 
 done so at the time-honored mansion of his fathers, but 
 circumstances had occurred since he left which render- 
 ed it impossible to return there with any feeling of 
 comfort ; so he made a short stay in Paris, and then 
 repaired to K-heims, in the north of France, Avhere he 
 spent some months in literary retirement. " I there," 
 he writes, " laid that plan of life which I have steadily 
 and successfully pursued. I resolved to make a very 
 rigid frugality supply my deficiency of fortune, to 
 maintain unimpaired my independency, and to regard 
 every object as contemptible except the improvement 
 of my talents in literature." 
 
 Having formed this wise and prudent determination, 
 he removed to La Fleche, in Anjou, where he pre- 
 pared his " Treatise on Human Nature ;" and then he 
 returned to London, to superintend the publication, 
 and endure the suspense. Being issued in 1738, the 
 work, to use his own expression, fell still-born Irom 
 the press ; though when subsequently published in 
 separate essays, it was a little more successful. 
 
 Having thus, at the age of twenty-seven, embarked 
 and made an inauspicious voyage on the uncertain 
 sea of literature, Hume, without even waiting to know 
 the fate of his work — for which a publisher had given 
 the sum of fifty pounds — turned his face northward ; 
 and, perhaps, with some slight regret that he had re- 
 linquished the profession of the law, and deserted the 
 merchant's desk, sought the agreeable seclusion of his 
 family's fair domain, which he found his brother
 
 190 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 laudably occupied in improving and enhancing in 
 value. Among its old trees, pleasantly shading the 
 gentle acclivity whence burst the iiine fountains which 
 gave a name to the place, and with which the argent 
 lion on his ancestral shield was charged, Hume ex- 
 perienced so much satisfactory enjoyment in " retire- 
 ment, rural quiet, friendship, books," that, though the 
 ideas and tastes of his relatives could not have har- 
 monized very readily or easily with his own, he would, 
 in all probability, had other matters been equal, have 
 chosen to pass his life there. But the ambition for 
 literary fame continued strongly to animate and in- 
 fluence him ; and his time was chiefly spent in grave 
 reading, deep meditation, in restoring his knowledge 
 of the Greek language, and in corresponding, among 
 others, with his friend Henry Home, afterward cele- 
 brated as Lord Kames. 
 
 Such was his position, when the last Marquis of 
 ^nnandale, a Scottish nobleman, whose eccentricity 
 took the form of lunacy, having read some of the hap- 
 less essays, was so charmed with something he saw in 
 them, that he conceived a passionate wish to obtain 
 the services of the learned author as his tutor. Hume 
 was induced, by the temptation of an ample salary, to 
 accept the office of companion to this weak-minded 
 man, and had his temper severely tested in conse- 
 quence. After holding the luckless and invidious post 
 for a year, during which the marquis seems to have 
 written a novel, relating to some events and love
 
 DAVID HUME. 191 
 
 afiairs in his own lite, Hume's patience and placidity 
 gave way, and, throwing up the situation, he became 
 candidate for the Professorship of Moral Philosophy at 
 Edinburgh, which, although powerfully supported, he 
 was unable to obtain, on account of his well-Iiuown 
 sentiments on religious subjects. 
 
 Matters, however, ere long, began to assume a 
 pleasanter aspect. An honorable appointment, as 
 private secretary to General St. Clair, uncle of Lord- 
 chancellor Loughborough, was almost immediately 
 bestowed on him, as if by way of solace for his de- 
 pressing defeat. The General had originally been 
 destined for an important expedition to Canada, which 
 somehow ended — or, rather was metamorphosed — into 
 an incursion on the coast of France. On returning, 
 Hume retreated to country quarters, and wrote a de- 
 fense of the expedition, which has since been printed ; 
 and shortly afterward he accompanied General St. 
 Clair on an embassy to the courts of Turin and 
 Vienna, in the double capacity of secretary and aid-de- 
 camp, wearing the uniform of an officer. His time, 
 while in this position, was passed agreeably, in good 
 company, and with considerable profit in a pecuniary 
 pomt of view. 
 
 Meantime his " Inquiry concerning the Human 
 Understanding," being the substance of his former 
 work in a new shape, was published in London, but 
 with scarcely greater siiccess than the original ; any 
 interest it excited being merely of a temporary chai-
 
 192 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 acter. However, his natural cheerfulness bore him up 
 against his repeated literary disappointments ; and he 
 returned to Scotland to delight his kinsfolk and ac- 
 quaintances with narrations of his adventures in lands 
 beyond the sea, and to digest the frustration of his 
 hopes as well as he could. Still resolute of purpose, 
 he wrote, during a two-years' retirement, his " Political 
 Discourses," which were given to the world in 1752, 
 and excited interest and attention both at home and 
 abroad. Indeed, though in some measure overshadow- 
 ed by the celebrated work which his friend Adam 
 Smith produced fourteen years later, they unfold and 
 enforce those views of economical science which are 
 now recognized and adopted, for better or for worse, 
 by all English statesmen. Moreover, they have, in 
 the highest degree, the merit of originality ; and their 
 style is so admirable, that they can be perused by 
 general readers at once with profit and pleasure. At 
 the same time he composed his " Inquiry concerning 
 the Principles of Morals," which, notwithstanding his 
 own high estimate of its comparative merits, was 
 little noticed or regarded. The former emanations of 
 his great intellect were now beginning to attract 
 observation, and he was gratified by finding that 
 answers antagonistic to the vieAvs they maintained 
 were gradually appearing ; but he discreetly formed 
 the resolution of not being drawn into controversy by 
 such efilisions, and inflexibly kept his purpose in this 
 respect.
 
 DAVID HUME. 193 
 
 Hume had now attained the age of forty, and, though 
 there certainly exists evidence which makes one sus- 
 pect that he had not always proved that rare impene- 
 trability to female blendishmeuts lor which his biog- 
 raphers have given him credit, there was, at this time 
 of life, small chance of his being betrayed into a 
 matrimonial alliance. His brother, tlierefore, aroused 
 himself to the duty of transmitting the name, and 
 continuing the succession, and, in 1751, wedded the 
 daughter of a neighboring family. This country gen- 
 tleman was a person of retired habits ; he had a strong 
 aversion to every thing savoring, or even having the 
 appearance, of vanity ; and he was so extremely pru- 
 dent in his actions, that, with the exception of his 
 marriage, he never took any step without having pre- 
 viously calculated the consequences to his satisfaction. 
 When the latter momentous event occurred, the phi- 
 losopher felt a natural longing to have a tenement of 
 his own. His mother, whom lie describes as a woman 
 of singular merit, and whom he had in her lifetime 
 treated with much filial kindness and allection, had been 
 in her grave for years ; and he proposed " to take up 
 house in Berwickshire'' with his sister ; but duly weigh- 
 ing and deliberately considering the matter, he came to 
 the conclusion that a town was " the true scene for a 
 man of letters ;" and, removing to Edinburgh, he exer- 
 cised so much frugality in disposing of his slender in- 
 come that he was enabled to live in comfort and con- 
 tentment. Yet he was not, by any means, parsirhoni- 
 N
 
 194 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 ous, and ever was ready, on fitting occasions, to prove 
 his generosity by charitable and beneficent actions. 
 
 The year 1752 was an important one in Hume's 
 fife. He was then appointed Librarian to the Faculty 
 of Advocates, after a severe and spirited contest, in 
 which, besides the junior members of the bar, his 
 chief allies were the ladies of" modern Athens,'' who 
 made strenuous efibrts and exerted their utmost fas- 
 cinations in his behalf When the triumph was 
 achieved he found himself in a most advantageous 
 position in regard to an excellent and well-stocked 
 library, which fortunately suggested to his brain the 
 scheme of furnishing the world with a classical history 
 of England, then a serious desideratum in national lit- 
 erature. " Being frightened," he states in his autobiog- 
 raphy, " with the notion of contirming a narrative 
 through a period of seventeen hundred years, I com- 
 menced with the House of Stuart, an epoch where I 
 thought the misrepresentation of faction began chiefly 
 to take place." 
 
 When the first volume, recording the events in the 
 reigns of James I. and Charles I., was issued, in 1754, 
 the effects of the author's earlier training were suf- 
 ficiently apparent to kindle the wrath of one party 
 without flattering the prejudices of the other. Ac- 
 cordingly, it was assailed by one cry of reproach and 
 disapprobation ; the sale was quite inconsiderable, and 
 almost the only token of encouragement worth having 
 came from the Primates of England and Ireland, who
 
 DAVID HUME. 195 
 
 advised him to take heart, and proceed in his under- 
 taking. But, whatever may be thought of Hume's 
 historic leanmgs and pohtical sympathies, it must be 
 admitted that he acted courageously, conscientiously, 
 and without fishing for the favor of those who had in 
 their hands all the patronage and disposal of such places 
 and rewards as he could have aspired to. He followed 
 what appeared to him the true and just course, not- 
 withstanding the storms to which he felt he would on 
 that account be exposed ; and his genius, more potent 
 than had been the swords of his insurgent kinsmen, 
 threw a wall of defense around the memory of the 
 exiled race which, with all its defects, succeeding 
 writers, whatever their ability and energy, have never 
 been skillful and vigorous enough to scale or break 
 down. Nevertheless, the reception of his work in- 
 spired him with feelings of such dislike for the British 
 public, that he resolved upon leaving the country, re- 
 nouncing his name, and passing the remainder of his 
 days on the Continent ; but a French war luckily put 
 an end to his scheme of self-expatriation, and he de- 
 termined to persevere with his laborious and ungrate- 
 ful task. In 1756 his second volume appeared, and 
 proved not less obnoxious than the first ; but by that 
 he had, as he says, " growii callous against the impres- 
 sions of public folly." It was fortunate, m any case, 
 that he did not succumb till the tyranny was over- 
 past. His victory was secure, slowly as it might ap- 
 proach.
 
 196 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 He had already published the " Natural History of 
 Religion," which was severely censured; and when 
 the author had arrived at his fiftieth year, his match- 
 less and magnificent " History of England" was com- 
 pleted in six volumes. His easy, elegant, and inter- 
 esting style ere long rendered the work highly popu- 
 lar. Hume was by universal consent, placed on a lofty 
 pedestal of fame ; and, though its reception had orig- 
 inally been so disheartening, the sum obtained for the 
 copyright, and for his former productions, together 
 with his economical habits, had made him not only 
 independent but, as he considered it, opulent. He, 
 therefore, looked forward to passing the remainder of 
 his days in peace, and in his native land, congratu- 
 lating himself on having never, in his struggle for 
 fortune, courted the smiles of any great man, or treated 
 the humble with discourtesy. He was, though plain 
 and careless in manner, eminently qualified, by his 
 frank and social humor, to enjoy the company of his 
 chosen friends, with whom, in spite of their wide dif- 
 ferences of opinion on the most serious subjects, he was 
 ever on terms of affectionate intercourse and uninter- 
 rupted friendship. Nevertheless, within two years, he 
 consented to forego his cherished plans, at the earnest 
 and repeated solicitations of Lord Hertford, who was 
 going as Embassador to Paris. Thither Hume accom- 
 panied that nobleman, and was shortly after appointed 
 Secretary of Embassy. In 1765, when Lord Hertford 
 departed to undertake the government of Ireland, the
 
 DAVID HUME. I'JT 
 
 historian remained in the French capital as Charge 
 d' Affaires, and performed the functions prctaining to 
 the office in a manner highly creditahle to his clear- 
 ness of judgment, his talent for business, and capacity 
 for state affairs. In the gay and fashionable circles of 
 Paris his fame, station, and agreeable bearing, secured 
 him so hearty a welcome that ladies and princes, wits 
 and philosophers, vied in their attentions. It was 
 there that, in an evil hour, he consented, in a spirit 
 of excessive amiability, to take under his wing the 
 frantic and erratic Rousseau, whose connection after- 
 ward involved him in much trouble, and caused him 
 infinite annoyance. 
 
 Hume returned to this country in 1766, and was, 
 the next year appointed TJnder-secretary of State for 
 the department presided over by Marshal Conway, an 
 office which he retained for more than twelve months. 
 His annual income, the fruits of real industry, now 
 amounted to a thousand pounds a year ; and, taking 
 a house in the new town of Edinburgh, he settled to 
 spend his remaining days among his old and most 
 attached friends. For some time his peaceful exist- 
 ence was uninterrputed, but in 1766 his health became 
 so precarious that he was under the necessity of un- 
 dertaking a journey to Bath, when he was attended 
 by his friend and remote relative, John Home, the 
 author of" Douglas," with whom he had many a jocu- 
 lar debate about the correct orthogcaphy of their name, 
 and the comparative merits of port and claret. The
 
 198 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 illustrious historian was fond of relieving his sinking 
 spirits by a playful jest at the expense of his clans- 
 man's warlike propensities, and did not omit so favor- 
 able an opportunity as that presented by the poet's 
 pistols being handed, with much ceremony, into the 
 traveling-carriage : 
 
 "You shall have your humor, John," he said, "and 
 shoot as many highwaymen as you like ; for," he 
 added, with as much melancholy, perhaps, as a phi- 
 losopher could well feel, " there's too little hfe left in 
 me to be worth fighting about." 
 
 It appears that the martial predilections alluded to 
 were shortly afterward gratified by a commission in 
 the " Buccleuch Fencibles," though on this occasion 
 they were not in requisition ; unless, indeed, to inspire 
 the young soul of Walter Scott, who was then exer- 
 cising his precocious imagination at Bath, where he 
 made the acquaintance of the bard, soldier, and divine, 
 whose fame his pen, more than fifty years later, did 
 sometliing to extend and perpetuate. If the eye of 
 the great historian, from which the world and all its 
 vanities were fast vanishing, lighted on that lame boy, 
 vigilantly guarded by a sarcastic and high-spirited 
 female, how little could he have supposed that there 
 was the being destined to invest with the charms of 
 romance and the glow of chivalry that old royal cause, 
 which he had employed all his wisdom and all his 
 intellect to restore to public favor and render perma- 
 nently attractive I
 
 DAVID HUME. 199 
 
 Meantime the veteran philosopher and historian, 
 deriving little or no benefit from his visit to Bath, re- 
 turned to die under his own roof. His decline was 
 gradual ; and, to the last, his most intimate associates 
 could not observe any diminution of gayety. He talked 
 familiarly Avith them during their calls, and alluded 
 to his approaching dissolution in a tone of whose levity 
 even Dr. Smith, his most ardent admirer, could not 
 approve. Whatever twinges of doubt or dread in 
 regard to the future he might in his last hours experi- 
 ence, were encountered and borne with the semblance 
 of indifference and tranquillity. He could not, indeed, 
 feel the blessedness of those who have fought a good 
 fight and kept the faith ; nor could he, like Addison, 
 exclaim with hopeful and serene resignation, " You 
 see how a Christian can die :" but, five days before 
 his last, he wrote, " I see death approaching gradually 
 without anxiety or regret." On the 25th of August, 
 1776, he breathed his last ; and was buried in a cem- 
 etery on the Calton Hill, where a monument to his 
 memory has since been erected.
 
 ROBERT SOUTHEY. 
 
 Among " the laborers of literature" Southey was 
 eminently distinguished by skill, regularity, persever- 
 ance, and other qualities hardly less essential to con- 
 tinuous and satisfactory success in liis profession. Few 
 men have practiced more resolute industry, or exhibit- 
 ed the literary character- in a more estimable light ; 
 and his example, in this respect, is peculiarly worthy 
 of being presented to the attention of aspiring and in- 
 tellectual youths. 
 
 He was descended from a sturdy race of yeomen, 
 who had been settled for a considerable period in the 
 county of Somerset. He would, it seems, have liked 
 well to believe that his ancestors had fought beneath 
 the cross in Palestine ; but was fain to content himself 
 with ascertaining the less gratifying fact that one of 
 them had risen in rebellion with the reputed son of 
 " the merry monarch," and narrowly escaped the fangs 
 of such law as was administered by the ruthless and 
 unsparing chief-justice of the last popish sovereign of 
 England. It happened that, during the last century, 
 a kinsman of the family being engaged in trade as a 
 gi-ocer in the city of London, Southeys father was sent 
 to try his fortune in the metropolis ; his relations, in
 
 SOTTHEV. 201 
 
 all likelihood, regaling their fancies with the agreeable 
 delusion that he would in good time, and by some easj 
 but mysterious process, attain the wealth and dignity 
 of a Whittiugton. The young apprentice, however, 
 was naturally, to a great extent, disqualified for pur- 
 suing his occupation with success, being by birth and 
 training excessively fond of rural afiairs and field 
 sports. The sight of a dead hare carried along the 
 street brought tears to his eyes, and the mention ol" a 
 greyhound made his heart sick. Many a time, no 
 doubt, did he sigh with heaviness for the green pas- 
 tures, running streams, and shady orchards of his na- 
 tive shire, as he pensively took down his master's shut- 
 ters, and prepared to drag himself through the care, 
 toil, and uncongenial duties, wloich were brought by 
 each successive day in endless round. While thus oc- 
 cupied, the Somersetshire lad, on the death of his em- 
 ployer, had an opportunity of transferring himself to 
 Bristol ; and there he was placed, with due form, in 
 the estabhshment of a linen-draper, who kept the prin- 
 cipal shop in the rich old town. While thus situated 
 learning his business, and applying the yard-wand to 
 crapes and muslins, it was his fortune to become ac- 
 quainted with the son of a widow lady, whose rela- 
 tionship was miscellaneous, and who resided on a small 
 estate that had belonged to her husband's forefathers 
 for generations. The bold draper speedily formed an 
 intimacy with the family — got into the habit of being 
 a regular Sunday guest — became enamored of one of
 
 202 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 the daughters, and took her to wife, after embarking 
 in business on his own account ; though it does not 
 appear that he ever enjoyed much prosperity. Never- 
 theless, it M^as ordered that his name should not sink 
 into utter oblivion, even though his shop — which, true 
 lo hereditary tastes, he had called the " Sign of the Hare" 
 — was not the most flourishing concern ; for under its 
 roof, on the 12th of August, 1774, Robert Southey 
 was born ; and he was so fat, large, and ugly an in- 
 fant, that the nurse in attendance expressed no slight 
 disappointment at his unprepossessing appearance. 
 The space of two years, however, served to change 
 him completely in this respect ; and by that time he 
 had manifested a peculiarly sensitive disposition. In 
 childhood he was often affected to tears by the songs, 
 ballads, and stories, which were sung, recited, or told 
 by the affectionate inmates of his father's house to 
 amuse and interest him ; and in after life the author 
 of " The Doctor" never could listen to a tale of woe 
 without experiencing painful sensations and feelings 
 of sadness. 
 
 Southey was still less than three years old when it 
 was his fate to be removed to Bath, and soon after 
 placed, though by no means willingly, at the school 
 of a dame whose countenance seems almost to have 
 frightened him out of his wits. Indeed, her aspect 
 was so forbidding, that the little pupil was shocked at 
 its excessive plainness, and loudly expressed the terror 
 with which he was inspired, entreating, but vainly,
 
 SOUTHEY. 203 
 
 to be seat home. His struggles and complaints prov- 
 ing of no avail he was compelled to submit to this 
 petticoat government until his sixth year ; and while 
 under it conceived the idea of going, with two of his 
 school-mates, to an island, and living by themselves. 
 As it was to include mountains of sweetmeats and 
 gingerbread, the place, as may be supposed, was suf- 
 ficiently fascinating to their imaginations. Southey 
 at this time lived with Miss Tyler, his mother's half- 
 sister, a full-blown spinster of considerable personal 
 attractions, but with an imperious will and a violent 
 temper. The discipline to which she subjected the 
 young poet, though irksome and despotic, was not 
 altogether disadvantageous to the rise of his intellect. 
 He was not permitted to play with any of his com- 
 panions, and he was made aware that to soil his gar- 
 ments was deemed an inexpiable crime ; but being 
 much in the company of people older than himself, 
 he mused and romanced at an miusually early age ; 
 and he was soon, like other boy-bards, inspired 
 
 " By strong ambition to out-roll a lay. 
 Whose melody would haunt the world." 
 
 His original aspirations, however, were of a martial 
 cast ; he longed, with all the enthusiasm of an incipi- 
 ent poet, to be a soldier, and to possess the various 
 weapons used in battle. On one occasion he was lulled 
 into a temporary feeling of full and complete happi- 
 ness by being allowed to take the sword of a military 
 visitor to bed with him ; and sadly was he mortified,
 
 204 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 on awaking, to perceive by the morning light that it 
 had in the mean time escaped from his grasp, and dis- 
 appeared. On another, he incurred a sharp infliction 
 of the horsewhip for strolling from home with a bar- 
 ber's assistant, who had promised to furnish him with 
 a suitable blade, but proved faithless to his plighted 
 word. 
 
 As soon as Southey had learned to read, one of his 
 aunt's friends presented him with a number of children's 
 books, which he much prized and eagerly perused ; 
 and thus, perhaps, was implanted in his glowing breast 
 the germs of that extraordinai-y passion for literature 
 which made him in later days regard the fame arising 
 from it as the most worthy and desirable, as well as 
 least evanescent of any. Moreover, his maiden guard- 
 ian was extremely fond of frequenting the theatre, 
 and had an extensive acquaintance among people con- 
 nected with histrionic aflairs. Thus, at the age of 
 four, Southey was taken to witness a play, which so 
 much delighted him, that he speedily, conceived a keen 
 relish for the stage. He heard more of theatrical 
 matters than of any other subject ; and soon essayed 
 to write dramas himself His aunt was also much 
 given to reading romances, and trained her little nephew 
 to do likewise. 
 
 Notwithstanding this unquestionable fascination 
 held out by her, the capricious sway which she exer- 
 cised with incessant vigilance was so much felt by 
 the boy, that he rejoiced exceedingly when iallowed
 
 SOUTHEY. 205 
 
 to return to liis father's house, where he enjoyed 
 comparative freedom, and could walk into the neigh- 
 boring fields, which with him, at this period, was 
 the greatest of all pleasures and the chief of all de- 
 lights. 
 
 Miss Tyler had steridy prohibited her charge bemg 
 breeched, like other juveniles of the day ; and though 
 he was six years old, and tall for his age, she had 
 forced him to wear a childish, fantastic dress. It 
 was now gladly exchanged for a garb befitting the 
 dignity of ambitious boyhood ; and the youthful drama- 
 tist was placed at a day-school, kept by a Baptist min- 
 ister. There, though a docile boy, he received some- 
 what harsh treatment, and the only flogging on record 
 that he ever underwent at the hands of a teacher ; 
 but he did not profit, to any extent, by the tuition. 
 In twelve months the reverend pedagogue died ; and 
 Southey was sent to a boarding-school about nine 
 miles from Bristol, at a house which, in other days, 
 had been the seat of a provincial family of conse- 
 quence. The broken and ruinous gateways about 
 which the urchins sported, the Availed garden trans- 
 formed into a play-ground, the oaken staircase on 
 which they aspiringly scrawled their names, and the 
 tapestry which covered the old walls of the school- 
 room, conveyed to the heart of the young rhymer 
 mournful impressions and associations, and produced 
 an impression on his memory not soon effaced. When 
 ill the pride of youthful and eccentric intellect, he vis-
 
 206 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 ited the spot in company with a versifying friend, and 
 described it in his early poem, the " Retrospect." He 
 knew well how to appreciate the ideas suggested by 
 such a scene. 
 
 Meantime, at this educational institution he man- 
 aged, rather by assisting his comrades than any guid- 
 ance he himself had the advantage of, to acquire some 
 knowledge of Latin, which was only taught occasion- 
 ally by a Frenchman who came from Bristol for the 
 purpose. Southey and his fellow-imps were rather 
 meanly fed ; and their ablutions, performed chiefly in 
 a stream that passed through the grounds, were con- 
 ducted with much less precision and completeness than 
 would have satisfied the scrupulous cleanliness of the 
 fastidious Miss Tyler. Indeed, the carelessness habit- 
 ually permitted and practiced in this respect would 
 with some reason have driven her into one of her boil- 
 ing passions, which such an event as the wedding of 
 a servant-maid never failed to raise. The seminary 
 was, besides, much too disorderly to be in any degree 
 comfortable ; yet the boys were not without days and 
 seasons of juvenile enjoyment. In spring each was 
 allowed to cultivate a small allotment of garden-ground, 
 on which was gro\vn salad, which served for a frugal 
 supper ; and in the autumn there was a plentiful and 
 animating crop of apples and other fruit to gather from 
 the adjoining orchards. On one occasion they unfor- 
 tunately exceeded all discretion, and appropriated so 
 liberally those set apart for the master's use, that grave
 
 SOUTHEY. 207 
 
 suspicious were excited and acted on, their drawers 
 and boxes searched, and the whole plunder recaptured. 
 The j-outhful band knew well that a moderate extent 
 of pocketing would not have been inquired into. As it 
 was, every apple was taken from them, and hiojmin 
 me copia fecit might have been the exclamation of 
 each votary of mischief, as he hung his head and re- 
 flected on the vexatious incident. They were dressed 
 in their best, Southey, doubtless, wearing his cocked 
 hat, when Rodney went from Bath to Bristol, to be 
 entertained by the corporation of the great commer- 
 cial emporium ; and they were marched to a conven- 
 ient spot on the wayside, to give liim three cheers as 
 he passed. They exerted their lungs with no small 
 efiect, and the gallant admiral returned the salute 
 with right hearty good-will. 
 
 At this not very advantageous seminary Southey re- 
 mained for twelve months, but at the end of that period 
 a paiuc occurred, in consequence of some disease pre- 
 vailing m the establishment ; and the future Laureate 
 was withdrawn from its precincts in tremulous haste, 
 and given again into the safe custody of his irascible 
 but affectionate aunt. 
 
 Miss Tyler had by this time deserted Bath and all 
 its social and theatrical delights. On the death of 
 her mother she had taken possession of the latter's 
 house at Bedminster ; and it was deemed expedient 
 to deliver Southey over to her tender mercies, while 
 his father looked out from his linens and broadcloth
 
 •.m FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 for a proper school at which to place the clever youth. 
 In this old-fashioned retreat, the successful biographer 
 of the greatest of English admirals confesses to having 
 spent some of the happiest days of his boyhood. Even 
 at that early age his pleasure seems to have been in' 
 retirement, and his satisfaction in secluded labor ; he 
 had little relish for boyish games, and he found so 
 much amusement in the garden among flowers and 
 insects, that, had his taste in this branch of study been 
 encouraged and taken advantage of, he might, perhaps, 
 have figured as a distinguished naturalist. But that 
 was not his destiny. His pen, wielded by a willing 
 hand and directed by a suggestive brain, was his 
 weapon ; and before thirteen he had indulged his 
 young ambition by compositions of various kinds, and 
 his imagination by perusing and devouring the pages 
 of Tasso, Ariosto, and Spenser. 
 
 Meantime, as early as assorted with his worthy 
 father's convenience, Southey was placed as a day- 
 boarder at a school in his native city, where he ap- 
 pears to have been tolerably well taught. He had 
 already, as has been intimated, aspiringly commenced 
 composition in verse. Wordsworth dated his love of 
 rhyme, and the tendency which colored his manhood, 
 from his tenth year ; but his future friend and eulogist 
 seems to have received the "poetic impulse" at a 
 much less mature time of life, and to have commenced 
 gratifying his sensations and prepossessions by practic- 
 ing the "art divine" at an age when he could hardly
 
 SOUTHEY. 209 
 
 have learned to hold or handle his pen with any de- 
 gree of facility. Owing to his aunt's histrionic pre- 
 dilections, Shakspeare, as the prince of dramatists, had 
 been put into his little hands almost as soon as he 
 could read ; and he went through the historical plays 
 with rapture. It then occurred to him that there 
 would, in all probability, be civil wars in his day, 
 similar to those of which he read ; and he conceived 
 the ambitiovis desire of rivaling the valorous feats and 
 lofty fame of Richard Neville, earl of Warwick, the 
 setter-up and puller-down of kings. So imbued did 
 his mind and spirit become with this notion, that he 
 began nightly to dream of tents, battle-fields, beating 
 drums, clashing spears, and all the " pride, pomp, and 
 circumstance of glorious war." Besides perusing with 
 avidity the works of Shakspeare, he had read those of 
 Beaumont and Fletcher before he was eight years old ; 
 and his fancy, thus stimulated, glowed with romantic 
 thoughts and chaiTning visions. Moreover, he had 
 already been present at numerous plays, and listened 
 with awakened and lively curiosity to interminable 
 conversations about their writers and actors, whom 
 he regarded as the greatest of men. In this way his 
 first aspirations after authorship natually took the dra- 
 matic form ; and he did not hesitate to express his 
 opinion on the subject with great confidence and conu 
 placency. 
 
 "It is the easiest thing in the world to write a 
 play," observed he one day, at this period, to a female 
 O
 
 210 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 friend of his aunt, with whom he happened to be on 
 a journey. 
 
 " Is it, indeed ?" she said, not a httle surprised. 
 
 " Yes," rephed Sou they ; "for you have only to 
 think what you would say if you were in the place of 
 the characters, and make them say it." 
 
 Acting on this not very co'rrect principle, he not 
 only produced pieces himself, but endeavored to per- 
 suade his puerile associates to do likewise. In the 
 latter attempt he, of course, found his zealous efforts 
 altogether futile, but experienced much consolation 
 from the pride derived by his gentle mother, when 
 she discovered that her boy was so highly gifted. 
 These were not the days of popular literature ; and 
 the worthy draper's dusty .shelf did not present to his 
 son's keen appetite for knowledge any very various or 
 interesting collection of books ; but Southey about this 
 time had the good fortune to meet with Spenser's 
 " Faery Glueen," which charmed him much with its 
 sweetness. He was soon, however, removed once 
 more from under the paternal roof into more congenial 
 company. 
 
 His aunt. Miss Tyler, took a small house near 
 Bristol ; and he was once more handed over to her 
 care. A brother of the restless spinster also went 
 to live with her — a strange, half-witted man, whose 
 enormous consumption of ale and tobacco astonished 
 his young kinsman, and brought on himself a prema- 
 ture old age. He had a strong affection for Southey,
 
 SOUTHEY. 211 
 
 and loved well to have a game at marbles with him 
 when an opportunity presented itself; though appar- 
 ently, he was better pleased to smoke a pipe and drink 
 beer in the shady arbor during summer, or by the 
 kitchen chimney in colder and less agreeable seasons. 
 Some of his wise, old-world saws, his nephew did not 
 soon forget. 
 
 During his twelfth and thirteenth years Southey, 
 ever eager in his beloved pursuit, exercised his poetic 
 powers with much industry and enthusiastic perse- 
 verance. When writing, he searched and labored dili- 
 gently to make himself master of the necessary historic 
 facts and information relating to the particular subject 
 with which he happened, from inclination, to be oc- 
 cupied. Even at this date he was fitting and accom- 
 plishing himself, by solitary and miaided study, and 
 by practice in the coining and structure of sentences, 
 for the career which circumstances and a genuine love 
 of such matters led and incited him to select ; and 
 which he afterward did follow with an ardor, patience, 
 and resolution in the highest degree creditable to him- 
 self, though rarely if ever equaled, and never surpassed 
 by others. It was perfectly natural that the members 
 of his family and their relations should experience a 
 very justifiable elation at talents which were thus, 
 perhaps, a little too precociously displayed ; and Miss 
 Tyler, flushed with pride at the acquirements of her 
 clever nursling, insisted on his being educated to one 
 of the learned professions. In this proposal she was,
 
 212 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 luckily, supported by Southey's maternal uncle, a 
 clergyman, who handsomely offered to defray the ex- 
 penses which this otherwise satisfactory scheme would 
 entail. Accordingly, in the spring of 1788, it was re- 
 solved that the young prodigy should be sent to West- 
 minster School. His gayly-disposed aunt was rejoiced 
 at so favorable an opportunity for going to London — 
 then no such easy business as at present ; and he was 
 conveyed thither under her protecting wing. 
 
 After a short time spent in visiting some of the im- 
 perious lady's friends and acquaintances he was duly 
 entered, and soon after had the task of writing some 
 Latin verses from Thomson's " Seasons," which was 
 a process quite new to him, and productive of some 
 trouble and perplexity. However, he surmounted the 
 difficulties, and even practiced himself so far as to pro-' 
 duce about fifty verses on the " Death of Fair Rosa- 
 mond" from choice. But that classical effort satisfied 
 his ambition, and he never afterward strove to excel 
 save in his native tongue. At this period tlie success 
 of the " Microcosm," and the reputation it won for its 
 institutors, the Eton boys, set the ambition of the West- 
 minster scholars on fire, and a weekly paper, entitled 
 the " Trifler," was speedily commenced among them. 
 In this little periodical Southey requested the insertion 
 of some verses of his on the death of a dear sister, but 
 lie was balked in his wish by a mortifying neglect. 
 He next, in conjunction with several of his new asso- 
 ciates, projected a paper bearmg the title of the " Flag-
 
 SOUTHEY. 213 
 
 ellaut,'' which oiily reached nine numbers, when a 
 fierce attack on corporal punishments annoyed and 
 em-aged the head-master of Westminster so highly that 
 he commenced a prosecution for hbel against the more 
 responsible parties. Southey at once confessed him- 
 self to be the author of the obnoxious article, and he 
 was, in consequence, compelled to leave the school. 
 In the age of boy-periodicals this was certainly a most 
 provoking consequence of his first efibrt at furnishing 
 contributions, and misfortunes, according to the prov- 
 erb, seldom come singly. His expulsion from West- 
 minster was speedily followed by circumstances still 
 more adverse and distressing. His father who, behind 
 the counter, had languished, like an animal transplant- 
 ed to an uncongenial climate, became bankrupt and 
 died. 
 
 Southey was now sent to matricvilate at Oxford. 
 It had been intended that he should enter at Christ 
 Church, and his name had accordingly been put down 
 there. But the Westminster mishap having reached 
 the dean's ears, that dignitary, alarmed at the idea of 
 insubordination, refused him admittance, and he con- 
 sequently entered at Balliol College in 1792. His views 
 and opinions, in regard to the forms and discipline of 
 the place, were not such as to favor his profiting much 
 by his residence there ; and, though destined by his 
 well-meaning relations for the Church, he seems never 
 to have cherished the prospect of clerical honors with 
 any degree of mental satisfaction. Yet, with all his
 
 214 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 eccentric tenets and sentiments, he was staid and dec- 
 orous in demeanor, and meritoriously refrained from 
 the excesses which he too frequently witnessed. 
 
 Southey was, by this time, animated and deluded 
 by all the too sanguine credulity and glowing enthu- 
 siasm which so often mark and cloud the monung of 
 genius, and lead its possessor astray. While in a state 
 of intellectual fever and political excitement he made 
 the acquaintance of Coleridge, with whom he soon de- 
 vised the fanciful and bubble-like scheme since known 
 and ridiculed as " Pantisocracy." This consisted of 
 fantastic plans for collecting a number of discontent- 
 ed youths, as brother-adventurers, and forming a col- 
 ony in the New World, on a thoroughly social basis. 
 Southey wasted much time and care on this cliimeri- 
 cal idea ; and it was decided that the aspirants to per- 
 fect earthly content and felicity should commence op- 
 erations by purchasing, with their common contribu- 
 tions, a quantity of land, which they were all to spend 
 their labor in cultivating. Each was to have a fair 
 share of work assigned to him, while it was arranged 
 that the female emigrants — for one important regula- 
 tion provided that they were, without exception, to be 
 married men — should manage all domestic matters. 
 Southey luxuriated in golden dreams and visionary 
 anticipations ; his ardent spirit swelled and rose high. 
 All obstacles disappeared before his enthusiastic gaze, 
 and he engaged the hand and affections of a dowerless 
 but captivating damsel in his native place, who re-
 
 SOUTHEY. 215 
 
 joiced in the very romantic name of Edith, and had 
 uo insuperable objections to accompany him to the 
 land of promise, which lay sweetly, as his fancy pic- 
 tured it, ready to receive them on the banks of the 
 Susquehannah River, flowing with milk and honey. 
 So far all went as smoothly with Southey as a total 
 inexperience of the real world, and full and entire con- 
 fidence in his own untried powers of action, could ren- 
 der matters to a strong imagination. But there was 
 yet a lioness of no ordinary ferocity in the way. Miss 
 Tyler had still to be informed, and the startling intel- 
 ligence that her hopeful nephew had, without consult- 
 ing her wishes, selected a partner for life, was instantly 
 productive of one most inconvenient result. It brought 
 upon him the sudden and rebounding torrents of her 
 vnrath. The night was rainy, but she was cut to the 
 heart ; and, mercilessly turning him out of doors, she 
 never condescended to see his face again. This was 
 a sufficiently portentous commencement for the Pan- 
 tisocratic form of society ; and the scheme, as might 
 have been foreseen, proving utterly impracticable, the 
 day-dream vanished into thui air when the most dis- 
 tant effort was made to realize it. 
 
 Southey was noAV, for the first time, thrown entirely 
 on his owii resources, and that struggle lor existence 
 by exertion, which invigorates the mind and influences 
 the understanding, began in earnest. Under no cir- 
 cumstances could his ambitious spirit have been still 
 at this date. The stream was still near its rise, and
 
 21G FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 fretted itself into foam against each oppc!-iii<i: rock ; but 
 the time was approaching when its course was to be 
 more smooth, and its waters not less clear'. His first 
 step was to arrange with Mr. Cottle, of Bristol, for the 
 publication of "Joan of Arc," with which he had been 
 for a considerable time occupied, and the next to deliv- 
 er a course of historical lectures, which were numer- 
 ously attended. Nevertheless, it appears that his pe- 
 cuniary afl'airs were not by any means in a flourishing 
 condition at this crisis. 
 
 Li 1794 he had, in conjunction with his friend Mr. 
 Lovell, under the names of Moschus and Bion, pub- 
 lished a volume of poems ; and about the same period 
 Southey, then glowing with revolutionary zeal, com- 
 posed his " Wat Tyler." It is spoken of as a produc- 
 tion of no merit, and utterly harmless from its weak- 
 ness. Long after the author had recanted his early 
 heresies, it was published surreptitiously to annoy him, 
 and he, in self-defense, applied for an injunction against 
 the printers. But the Chancellor refused to interfere 
 in the matter, on the ground of the peculiarly objec- 
 tionable principles which the book contained. The 
 writer of this hapless — and , as it turned out, perplex- 
 ing — revolutionary brochure, in after life thus account- 
 ed for its unwelcome existence : 
 
 " In my youth, when my stock of knowledge con- 
 sisted of such an acquaintance with Greek and Roman 
 history as is acquired in the course of a scholastic edu- 
 cation, M'hen my heart was full of poetry and romance,
 
 SOUrriEY. 217 
 
 and Lucaa and Akenside were at my tongue's end, I 
 fell into the political opinions which the French revo- 
 lution was then scattering throughout Europe ; and, 
 following those opinions with ardor, wherever they led, 
 I soon perceived that inequalities of rank were a light 
 evil compared to the inequalities of property, and those 
 more fearful distinctions which the want of moral and 
 intellectual culture occasions between man and man. 
 At that time, and with those opinions, or rather feel- 
 ings (for the root was in the heart, and not in the un- 
 derstanding), I wrote ' Wat Tyler,' as one who was 
 impatient of all the oppressions that are done under 
 the sun. The subject was injudiciously chosen ; and 
 it was treated as might be expected by a youth of 
 twenty, in such times, wiio regarded only one side of 
 the question. Were I to dramatize the same story 
 no\^^ there would be much to add, but little to alter ; 
 I should write as a man, not as a stripling ; with the 
 same heart and the same desires, but with a ripened 
 understanding, and competent stores of knowledge." 
 
 Next year, while "Joan of Arc" was still in the 
 press, Southey was, with a view to his welfare, urged 
 and persuaded to accompany his uncle, Mr. HiU, to 
 Lisbon, where that gentleman was chaplain to the fac- 
 tory. Consequently, when the epic poem appeared, 
 its author had left the country ; but not until he had 
 contracted a matrimonial alhance, under circumstances 
 so romantic as to put to shame the inventive faculty 
 of novelists, and furnish another instance of truth be^
 
 218 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 ing often stranger than fiction. His reverend friend 
 and patron was under the impression that a change 
 of scene and society would efiectually dissipate and 
 banish all fine visions of love, emigration, and social 
 perfection on the hanks of a North American river : 
 but Sou they clung to the object of his affection with 
 poetic indiscretion and disinterestedness, and took a 
 very conclusive precaution that the first part of this 
 anticipation should be falsified. On the eve of depart- 
 ure for the continental excursion, he took the bold and 
 irretrievable course of privately leading the adored 
 Edith to the altar, where he received her hand as his 
 bride, and united their earthly fortunes forever. It is 
 stated that they parted immediately after their mar- 
 riage, at the portico of the church ; and the bridegi-oom 
 set oiron his travels. Doubtless, in subsequent years 
 he had no cause to repent of having thus baffled the 
 well-meant designs of his relative, anxious as the lat- 
 ter unquestionably was to promote his mterests ; and 
 many, as well as Southey, who have, after a similar 
 fashion, defied the fears of the wise, and rushed des- 
 perately on matrimony, have found in the duties which 
 attend it, the best incitements to exertion, and the 
 elements of honorable success in life. Yet early mar- 
 riages m circumstances like his are extremely unsafe 
 to stand upon ; and Southey's kinsman was quite jus- 
 tified in telling him to beware. 
 
 In the year 1796 Southey joyfully returned to En- 
 gland where his poem had in his absence been pub-
 
 SOUTHEY. 219 
 
 lished ; and he began to form the notes he had made 
 while abroad into "Letters from Spain and Portugal." 
 He found it necessary to accept the fulfillment of an 
 old promise of pecuniary assistance from a very inti- 
 mate college friend ; and then he proceeded to London, 
 with the grand intention of studying and accomplish- 
 ing himself in the laws of the realm. He was duly 
 entered as a student at Gray's Imi, and made an 
 attempt to combine legal studies with poetical pre- 
 possessions ; but this, as might have been expected, 
 proved quite futile. Law and poetry — the perusal of 
 Blackstone and the writing of " Madoc" — were not 
 very harmonious conjunctions, as he soon discovered, 
 to the neglect of the former. 
 
 Sometime afterward Southey took a small house at 
 Westbury, a beautiful village, where, in the society 
 of his beloved wife, he resided about twelve months, 
 and spent some of his most satisfactory days. He 
 then produced more poetry than he ever did in the 
 same space of time before or after ; and he enjoyed 
 the particular intimacy of Sir Humphry Davy, whose 
 ardent genius was then making itself felt at Bristol. 
 The rising man of science took a deep interest in, and 
 heard passages read from, " Madoc," as its composi- 
 tion was proceeded with by the aspiring and pains- 
 taking author. 
 
 Southey was likewise employed, at this time, in pre- 
 paring a volume of minor poems, and a new edition 
 of his " Letters from Spain and Portugal," to which he
 
 220 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOLs MEN'. 
 
 had paid a second visit ; besides editing the " Annual 
 Anthology," the first portion of which then appeared. 
 His hterary occupations were so decidedly and unde- 
 niably to his taste, and became so much " the hfe of 
 his life," that the idea of being chained to the law, 
 and harassed by the beckonings of conscience in the 
 direction of dry and dusty volumes, was gradually 
 found to be more irksome and intolerable. Thus 
 his attention was wisely and deliberately withdrawn 
 from the concerns of a profession for which he was 
 not calculated, and wholly concentrated on literature. 
 Indeed the law is, of all others, a jealous mistress, and 
 will accept of no divided allegiance ; and such a re- 
 sult as that at which the poet arrived might easily 
 have been foretold, in the case of one who commenced 
 the marvelous achievement of " eating terms," with 
 indulging in the prospective pleasure of burning his 
 law-books after he should, by their aid, have amass- 
 ed a magnificent fortune, and retired to enjoy it in 
 Christmas festivities among lakes and mountains. 
 
 Trusting now chiefly for support and distinction to 
 his literary efiusions, Southey speedily became one of 
 the most industrious of living mortals. His devotion 
 to his pursuits was intense and unparalleled, and in- 
 deed so great, that he considered the correcting of 
 proof-sheets as a luxury of the highest kind. In fact, 
 he seems to have regarded literature as the most 
 agreeable of worldly concerns, and the fame arising 
 from its i^nncot^sful cultivation as that kind of which a
 
 SOUTHEY. 221 
 
 wist* mail should be principally ambitious, because 
 the most permanent. This principle regulated his 
 conduct and stimulated his exertions in his chosen 
 field. He guided himself by it with singular resolu- 
 tion ; his actions became extremely uniform ; and the 
 eccentric workmgs of his youthful spirit having ceased, 
 his life was as cahn and cheerful as could have been 
 desired. 
 
 In 1801 Southey had the good fortune to obtain the 
 appointment of private secretary to the Irish Chan- 
 cellor of the Excheqvier, whom he accompanied to 
 Dublin ; and m the same year published " Thalaba 
 the Destroyer," an Arabian fiction of considerable 
 power, beauty, and magnificence. Soon after this, a 
 pension was bestowed upon him by Government. 
 
 Southey now deemed it advisable to settle on the 
 banks of the Greta, near Keswick, and pursued Ins 
 avocations with keen and constant diligence. Ho 
 wrote perpetually. Each day, and each hour of the 
 day, had their appropriate tasks. He secluded him- 
 self much from society, but found consolation in the 
 company of his pretty numerous household, and the 
 well-stocked library which it was his fortune to collect 
 and possess. He now sent into the world, from his 
 agreeable retreat, a volume of " Metrical Tales," and 
 " Madoc." After them appeared " The Curse of 
 Kehama," considered as the most meritorious of his 
 poetic works, but founded on the Hindoo mythology, 
 and therefore not peculiarly interesting to general
 
 222 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 readers. Some years later he published " Roderick, 
 the last of the Goths," a noble and pathetic poem. 
 
 In the mean time, Southey had not disdained the 
 less pretending species of composition. His " Life of 
 Nelson" is considered the best of his admirable prose 
 works. When published, in 1813, it instantly rose 
 into popular favor, and was recognized by the public 
 as a standard biography. It was originally issued in 
 two small volumes, since compressed into one. He 
 subsequently contributed to " Lardner's Cyclopaedia" 
 a series of lives of British admirals. Besides, he again 
 testified his biographic skill by a " Life of Wesley," 
 the celebrated founder of Methodism. He evinced 
 therein a minute acquaintance with the religious con- 
 troversies of the day, and presented curious and in- 
 teresting sketches of field-preachers and their perform- 
 auces. There were successively other works, less 
 generally admired, relating to history, politics, morals, 
 and philosophy. His numerous writings are charac- 
 terized by an easy and flowing style, yet they did not 
 secure him much real popularity ; but this must, in a 
 great measure, be attributed to the nature of the sub- 
 jects. His prose was described as perfect by Lord 
 Byron, who styled him " the only existing entire man 
 of letters." 
 
 Southey had, long ere this, relinquished the opinions 
 which prompted him to produce " Wat Tyler ;" and 
 when the ■'■ (Quarterly Review" was established in 
 1809, he became connected with the enterprise which
 
 SOUTHEY. 223 
 
 was then entered upon, and Turnished several of the 
 prominent articles to that distinguished periodical in 
 the earlier stage of its career. 
 
 Though not enjoying that measure of popular favor 
 to which, as an author of merit and a man of worth 
 and prudence, he was justly entitled, Southey ranked 
 high among the writers of his day ; and he was fully 
 appreciated by those most capable of judging criti- 
 cally. 
 
 In 1821, the degree of LL.D. was conferred on 
 him by the University of Oxford ; and other marks 
 of distinction were within his grasp, if he had chosen 
 to accept them. He was unambitious of pubhc cele- 
 brity, and cared little for going into the world. In 
 fact, he is pronounced to have mixed too little with 
 his fellow men, and was therefore wanting in that 
 particular kind of intelligence and information which 
 can only be obtained by a free and familiar intercourse 
 with the world. That "the proper study of mankmd 
 is man," is a doctrine with which he appears to have 
 had little or no sympathy, so long as he had it in his 
 power to say with truth : 
 
 " Around me I behold. 
 Where'er these casual eyes are cast, 
 
 The mighty minds of old ; 
 My never-failing friends arc they, 
 With whom I converse night and day." 
 
 One of Southey's latest prose compositions consisted 
 of his "Colloquies on the Progress and Prospects of
 
 224 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 Society," in which Montesinos is made to converse 
 with the ghost of Sir Thomas More. 
 
 On the death of Mr. Pye, the poet-laureate, the 
 vacant dignity had been offered to Sir Walter Scott ; 
 but the great Border Minstrel declining to accept of 
 it, used his inflvience in favor of Southey, who was 
 accordingly appointed. In this capacity he composed 
 his " Carmen Triumphale" and "The Vision of Judg- 
 ment," which, like the productions of other laureates, 
 encountered much ridicule. His latest poetical emana- 
 tions were, " All for Love," and " The Pilgrim of 
 Compostella." 
 
 Southey's repute as an author and pohtical writer 
 rose so high, that he was offered a baronetcy, and 
 election to the representation in Parliament of a min- 
 isterial borough. However, his knowledge was rather 
 of books than human affairs ; he was by no means 
 qualified to "make himself formidable" as a senator; 
 he was ever in extremes, and had no experience of 
 that middle path which can alone be permanently 
 maintained in dealing with public affairs, and which 
 is ever chosen by those not incapacitated by nature 
 tp learn from the past, and meet the shadowy future 
 with prescience. Under these circumstances he acted 
 with wisdom and prudence : he considered that his 
 fame and prosperity could only be preserved by a reso- 
 lute adherence to his studious occupations ; and he 
 declined both distinctions, continuing his habits of 
 ceaseless reading and composition. It seems that, in
 
 SOUTHEY. 2S5 
 
 his entranced devotion to his hterary projects, he had 
 neglected that exercise which he had declared so es- 
 sential to health, and during his three last years he 
 became the victim of disease. The early partner of 
 his joys and sorrows had already sunk into the grave ; 
 and Southey had contracted a second union with a 
 lady known for her poetic accomplishments. He is 
 said to have left a considerable fortune — the result of 
 his industry — at his death, which took place on the 
 21st of March, 1843. He M^as buried in the church- 
 yard at Crosthwaite, in the neighborhood of his resi- 
 dence by lake and mountain ; and an inscription for 
 the tablet to his memory was furnished by the vener- 
 able Bard of Rydal Mount, who succeeded him in the 
 laureateship, and was, ere long, laid at rest at no great 
 distance from his former compeer. 
 P
 
 THOMAS MOORE. 
 
 The original genius, exquisite sensibility, independ- 
 ent spirit, and incorruptible integrity, which the great- 
 est scholar of his age ascribed in his will to this bright 
 and fanciful bard from the " Emerald Isle," have been 
 generally admired and acknowledged. Indeed, not- 
 withstanding his multitudinous and peculiar tempta- 
 tions to love patrician personages not wisely, but too 
 well, few men of genius have ever excelled or equaled 
 Moore in these important and laudable qualities for 
 which Dr. Parr gave him credit, any more than in 
 the brilliancy of his intellect or the strength of his 
 domestic affections. That he passed through a severe 
 ordeal, and was exposed to many trials, can hardly 
 be doubted. The early recognition of rare talent is 
 too frequently fatal to its possessor ; and the celerity 
 of Moore's transit from the humble parlors in the Irish 
 capital to fashionable saloons and the banquets of 
 princes was quite amazing, and well-nigh, unprece- 
 dented. Yet he appears, without ostentatiously and 
 perpetually proving the fact by bellowing it into the 
 public ear, to have maintained his freedom of thought 
 and action almost unimpaired to the end of his life. 
 The career of such a man is necessarily fraught with
 
 MOORE. 227 
 
 interest and instruction ; and the boyhood of a poet is 
 always a subject especially worthy of being dwelt 
 upon, as being replete with profit to the young and 
 information to all. Wlio, indeed, can read without 
 emotion of the gentle Cowper, being maltreated by 
 his school-fellows at Westminster, and not daring to 
 lift his eyes above the shoe-buckies of the elder boys ; 
 or of Scott, seated by some ruined edifice devouring 
 ancient ballads, and gazing with rapture on the land- 
 scape in view ; or of Byron, stretched on the old tomb- 
 stone of Harrow, with the strong ambition in his mind 
 and the bitter disappointment in his heart that were 
 destined to unite and bring forth glorious but melan- 
 choly fruits ; or of Wordsworth, the Bard of Contem- 
 plation, receiving the poetic impulse while led to and 
 fro on the romantic banks ol tne jJerwent ? In a dif- 
 ferent and less attractive scene must we look for the 
 earliest aspirations and exploits of the gifted youth 
 whose songs, so gay, rich, and choice in their lan- 
 guage, afterward held the fair and courtly in mute 
 attention — whose sparkling Avit proved so effective a 
 weapon in political controversy ; and whose spirit 
 qualified him so perfectly to unite his national music 
 to immortal verse. 
 
 Thomas Moore was born on the 2Sth of May, 1779, 
 in the city of Dublin, where his father, a decent and 
 respectable tradesman, at that time carried on a lim- 
 ited business as a wine-merchant. His mother ap- 
 pears to have been a rollicking Irish woman, with
 
 228 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 much honest humor, and no particular indisposition 
 to indulge occasionally in an expletive, indicating any 
 thing rather than Asiatic repose or excessive respect 
 for the third commandment. This worthy dame, 
 joyous and dashing, was fond of all such festivities as 
 came in her way, and of all such society as she could 
 obtain access to. She could, doubtless, sing delight- 
 fully at the supper-parties she frequented, enjoy her- 
 self without stint, when " the mirth and fun grew 
 fast and furious," and let care and all its horrid con- 
 comitants wait for her attention till the morning. In 
 fact, she was blessed with no small portion of Hiber- 
 nian indifference as to the future. Moreover, she had 
 the advantage of being a strict and sincere Roman 
 Catholic ; and her husband also " held the ancient 
 faith," though with a philosophical moderation which 
 his decorous spouse by no means approved of Though 
 a genuine Irishman by parentage and nativity, Moore, 
 strangely, advanced no imaginary claim to estates con- 
 fiscated for centuries, to wealth dissipated before he 
 entered the vale of tears, or to ancestral honors. He 
 even declined the distinction of having aristocratic 
 kindred ; and it must be admitted, that without these 
 aids to inspiration he contrived to do " excellently 
 well," and leave a brilliant name. In one quality he 
 assuredly was not deficient, that of fervid nationality 
 and wami love of his country. 
 
 Almost in the earliest stage of his existence the 
 prophetic eye of Mrs. Moore discerned signs of her
 
 MOORE. 229 
 
 little Tom being a marvelous child, and he was nursed 
 and reared with a view to his attaining due and envi- 
 able eminence ere his sun set. The happy days of 
 the boy have, perhaps, too often no certain existence 
 save in the imaguiation of the same being when grown 
 into a man, and looking on past scenes with that en- 
 chantment which distance lends to the view. Gibbon 
 remarks, that while the poet gaily describes the short 
 hours of juvenile recreation he forgets the tedious daily 
 labors of the school, M'hich is approached each morn- 
 ing with anxious and reluctant step. He declares 
 that he never knew the boasted happiness of boyhood, 
 against the existence of which, as a general luxury, 
 he therefore enters a feeling protest ; but in this re- 
 spect the experience of the fanciful Irish poet was 
 quite the opposite of that confessed to by the skeptical 
 historian of the Roman Empire. Moore was sent, 
 with all convenient haste, to a day-school, kept by a 
 person who " quaffed his noggin of poteen" with much 
 less than proper consideration for his tutorial avoca- 
 tions. He was afterward placed under Mr. Samuel 
 "White, who had been the preceptor of Sheridan, and 
 proved his want of prophetic skill by pronouncing the 
 future wit and orator an incoi;rigible dunce. At this 
 seminary Moore displayed a remarkable taste for music, 
 poetry and recitation. This was much strengthened by 
 the master of the school, who encouraged a habit of 
 acting which was not in any degree relished by the 
 majority of his pupils. However, Moore speedily be-
 
 230 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 came a favorite " show scholar," and in tliat capacity 
 had the gratification of seeing his name in print at the 
 age of ten, as one of the juvenile performers who were 
 to contribute to an evening's entertainment at the 
 private theatre of a lady of rank. He began forth- 
 with to compose in numbers, and became more and 
 more the dehght of his mother's eye. She watched 
 with tender anxiety and sanguine hope liis extraor- 
 dinary ascent, step by step, of the social ladder ; and 
 he repaid her soUcitude by a fihal devotion which 
 no poetic triumphs were ever in subsequent life allowed 
 to interfere with. Being extremely ambitious in re- 
 gard to his worldly prospects, she early, despite the dis- 
 abilities then attaching to those of her rehgious faith, 
 destined him for the bar, and afforded him every op- 
 portunity of cultivating his mind and extending his 
 knowledge which her means and position permitted. 
 He soon gave cheering indications of being not un- 
 worthy of such anxious care, and was highly applauded 
 by his teacher, who, while doing so, did not neglect so 
 opportune an occasion of saying a good word for him- 
 self; and he signalized his precocious powers at the 
 age of fourteen by contributing verses to the pages of 
 a Dublin Magazine. " Master Moore" was already a 
 sort of celebrity on the banks of the Liffey. 
 
 The friends and relatives among whom the melodist 
 was brought up were, without exception, ardent in 
 their Irish patriotism ; and in 1792 he was carried by 
 his father to one of the demonstrative gatherings held
 
 MOORE. 23) 
 
 in welcome of the French Revokitioii, and was perched 
 on the chairman's knee. The excitement ol' the fes- 
 tive scene, and the haUucination of those who took 
 part in it, may be judged from such toasts as that re- 
 corded by him as having been enthusiastically sent 
 round : " May the breezes from France fan our Irish 
 oak into verdure." Surely, Donnybrook Fair must 
 ever afterward have seemed tame to those who were 
 present at such assemblies. 
 
 The young poet espoused these principles with 
 warmth and sympathy ; and having been entered at 
 Trinity College in 1795, supported his opinions with 
 a lively eloquence, which, as matters stood, might 
 have caused danger. He passed through the academic 
 course with much credit, was distinguished for his 
 classical acquirements, took part in the debates of the 
 Historical Society, and was much admired for the wit 
 and playfulness he exhibited among his associates. 
 Having brought his collegiate studies to a termination, 
 taken the degree of bachelor of arts, and won the 
 character of a most pleasant companion, he proceeded 
 to Loiadon in 1799, and had the happiness of being 
 enrolled as a student of law at the Middle Temple. 
 
 Meantime he had been prompt to seize every means 
 of improvement, and his innate talent for music had 
 been cultivated with assiduity and eflect ; he had 
 gained no inconsiderable amount of classical learning ; 
 and he had acquired some knowledge of the French 
 and Italian languages. In the middle of the year
 
 232 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 following his arrival in England, the translation of 
 Anacreon's Odes, with which he had been engaged 
 for some time, was published by subscription. This 
 work had been contemplated by the eager and aspir- 
 ing boy even in his school days, and it now appeared, 
 with a dedication to the Prince of Wales, to whom 
 the poet had already been presented. Its reception 
 was most flattering ; public favor was bestowed in 
 abundance, and it elicited this complimentary im- 
 promptu — 
 
 " Ah, mourn not for Anacreon dead ! 
 Ah, mourn not for Anacreon fled ! 
 The lyre still breathes he touched before. 
 For we have one Anacreon Moore !" 
 
 The rhyming adventurer from the " Green Isle" 
 — small m form but sprightly in mind — was intro- 
 duced to fashionable circles, excited the curiosity and 
 interest of royal personages, and charmed patrician 
 assemblies with his vocal powers. He had, moreover, 
 the distinction of dining twice at Carlton House with 
 the Prince of Wales, and of being admitted to a grand 
 fete given by his royal highness on becoming regent. 
 At a subsequent period he was one of the same exalted 
 individual's keenest assailants and sharpest satirists. 
 
 In 1803, Moore, through the influence of his friend 
 Lord Moira, to whom he had been introduced by a 
 Dublin Msecenas, obtained an official appointment at 
 Bermuda, and went thither to undertake the duties 
 attached to it. The novelty of the situation might,
 
 MOORE -'33 
 
 for a brief season, lend it some slight charm and at- 
 traction ; but after a year's trial of the island he con- 
 sidei-ed it intolerable, as might have been anticipated 
 in the case of one who had revelled in all the joys of 
 poetic celebrity, and vi^hose delightful singing had been 
 rewarded in glittering halls with the dazzling and 
 fascinating smiles of aristocratic beauty. He therefore 
 resolved on fulfilling its functions, in future, by deputy ; 
 and after a flying visit to America, returned to En- 
 gland. 
 
 Moore, soon after this brief absence from the world 
 of wit and fashion, published his " Odes and Epistles," 
 suggested by this rambling excursion. In these poems, 
 as in the volmne given to the world under the assumed 
 name of " Thomas Little," the glowing and irresistible 
 imagination of the bard led him to commit what were 
 very generally regarded as nothing less than most ob- 
 jectional offenses against delicacy and decorum. Ac- 
 cordhigly he was attacked in the " Edinbui-gh Review," 
 with, as he conceived, so much and undeserved sever- 
 ity, that he thought himself called on to challenge 
 Jeffrey, as the responsible editor, to mortal combat. 
 In consequence, the poet and critic met at Chalk Farm 
 to enjoy the doubtful luxury of being fired at by each 
 other ; but, fortunately, the interference of lurking 
 police-officers stopped the matter in time to prevent 
 mischief, otherwise it is not improbable — so great wa.s 
 their awkwardness — that it might have resulted in 
 involuntary suicide ; at all events, the seconds seem
 
 234 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 to have been in a position of no slight peril. If any 
 thing could have added to the absurdity of the affair, 
 it would have been the report, which asserted that 
 the pistols, on examination, were found to contain 
 paper pellets, substituted in place of leaden bullets. 
 This proved to have been erroneous ; but the whole 
 transaction exposed the actors to much tantalizing but 
 well-merited ridicule . "A fellow-feeling makes us won- 
 drous kind," and the parties principally implicated 
 formed a close and lasting friendship. 
 
 Having already essayed dramatic composition, in a 
 piece entitled the "Gipsy Prince," Moore, in 1811, 
 made a second attempt in an opera, " M.P., or the 
 Blue Stocking," which was produced at the Lyceum 
 theatre with partial success. He was infinitely more 
 fortunate in a matrimonial adventure, made about the 
 same period ; after which he removed from the me- 
 tropolis, and chose a residence in Dorsetshire. Then 
 appeared the " Twopenny Post-bag," a political effu- 
 sion, in which several eminent persons, holding opinions 
 at variance with those of the author's patrons, were 
 lashed with sparkling wit, sharp sarcasm, and humor- 
 ous pleasantry : but he was not unoccupied with pro- 
 jects more worthy of his fine taste and beaming fancy. 
 He now came forth with his " Irish Melodies," which 
 are replete with real feeling and true delicacy, and 
 fully entitle him to be rewarded, as he desired, with 
 the proud title of " the Poet of the Irish people." 
 They are the happiest emanations of his gay and
 
 MOORK. 235 
 
 fanciful muse. Among song-writers he is almost un- 
 rivaled. No matter what may be the theme — I'lay- 
 ful or pathetic, light or impassioned, his verse flows 
 onward like a " shining river" with graceful fluency ; 
 and his cadences tell how exquisitely the ear was 
 tuned to the expression of the sentiment, which had 
 its origin in the mind. It is as the producer of lyrics 
 for the ancient music of his country that he gave 
 proof of his peculiar and felicitous combination of 
 power, and achieved so wide a reputation. He poured 
 out these verses with unexampled readiness and fer- 
 tility. In some he appeared not only as poet, but 
 musical composer also ; and. his delicious words and 
 graceful music thrilled and captivated the public ear 
 and heart. His popularity had now risen high, but 
 it soon appeared that his name had not yet gathered 
 all the fame which was to enrich it, when, in 1817, 
 " Lalla Rookh" made its appearance. This Oriental 
 romance, rich, brilliant, and gorgeous, was his most 
 elaborate poem. It had been produced in frost and 
 snow, yet his potent imagination had conjured before 
 him the sunniest of Eastern scenes, with all their 
 splendor and magnificence ; and, what was a most 
 important part of the business, the manuscript is said 
 to have brought him three thousand guineas. When 
 presented to the public, it was found to unite the 
 purest and softest tenderness with poetic fervor and 
 lofty dignity. Its effect was immediate and extensive ; 
 it was received with eager enthusiasm ; and the read-
 
 236 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 ers showed their appreciation by committing large 
 portions to memory. No doubt the Enghsh pubhc 
 were, at the time, athirst for verse ; but even under 
 such circumstances nothing but high merit, taste, 
 fancy, feehng, and dehcacy, could have ensured such 
 rapturous approval, and wrought such enchantment as 
 Moore's poem, rich with imagery- and ornament, now 
 did, though on a subject by no means calcidated to 
 interest the bulk of the community. 
 
 His next work, " The Fudge Family in Paris,' saw 
 the light in IS 18, and was one of those brilliant 
 trifles in which its author was considered to be alto- 
 gether unrivaled in his day and generation. It arose 
 from a passing visit made by the poet to the Continent, 
 and ran through successive editions. He afterward 
 reproduced the actors in " The Fudge Family in En- 
 gland ;" but with a fehcity and success utterly unequal 
 to the original efibrt. 
 
 Moore had now, as a poet, achieved splendid tri- 
 umphs, and excited immense admiration. 
 
 " Crowned with perennial flowers, 
 By wit and genius wove, 
 He wandered through the bowers 
 Of fancy and of love ;" 
 
 while, in social points of view, few men, similarly 
 situated, were more courted by persons of rank and 
 distinction. He had made comparatively few ene- 
 mies, for his satirical shafts, sparkling with wit, were 
 discharged with so much sportiveness, that they rarely
 
 MOORE. :2;?7 
 
 created much venomous teeling. The kuvduess of the 
 heart from which they emanated was naturally too 
 great to admit of that being very frequently the case. 
 He continued, though tried by vicissitudes of fortune, 
 to. retain all his amiable and domestic feeUngs in full 
 vigor ; his rural dwelling seems to have had greater 
 attraction than the gay and glittering drawing-rooms, 
 which he still now and then enlivened with the flashes 
 of his graceful wit and refined genius. He was a man 
 of the world as well as a poet and scholar, and he 
 relished the taste of sparkling glasses of " liquid ruby," 
 as well as the sight of bright eyes and brilliant glances. 
 He seems to have generally enjoyed himself with little 
 restraint ; and ministered to the amusement of others 
 without compromising his personal dignity, or in any 
 degree violating the independence of his spirit. His 
 wit and cheerfulness, when exerted, were fascinating 
 in the extreme, and he could at pleasure " set the 
 table in a roar." One day, at a dinner-party where he 
 was, the absence of game having been lamented, one 
 of the guests, struck with his fine display, remarked — 
 
 " Why, gentlemen, what better game could you 
 wish than ' Moore game ?' Surely you have that in 
 abundance." 
 
 In the circles he frequented it was his lot to be- 
 come intimate with Lord Byron, to whom he had 
 mtroduced himself by something resembling a chal- 
 lenge ; and when, in 1819, he made that journey to 
 the Continent which furnished him with matter for
 
 238 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN 
 
 his " Rhymes on the Road," Moore visited the great, 
 but erring and unhappy, author of " Childe Harold," 
 then residing near Venice. It was then that the no- 
 ble and long-descended bard confided to his charge 
 the autobiography, which was ultimately consigned to 
 the flames, after it had entailed on the Irish melodist 
 infinite trouble, anxiety, and annoyance, and that 
 shortly after the time when the conduct of the mdi- 
 vidual who acted as his deputy at Bermuda had 
 driven him from England, and involved him in seri- 
 ous pecuniary difficulties and embarrassments. On 
 leaving Italy, Moore betook himself to Paris, where 
 he was treated with liigh honor and distinguished by 
 a public dinner, which, as a mark of esteem and ad- 
 miration, was particularly grateful to the heart and 
 feehngs of the accomplished exile. 'Wliile there, 1: ; 
 wrote the " Loves of the Angels," containing passages 
 of great beauty, passion, and tenderness, but consid- 
 ered inferior to the foniier effusions of his versatile 
 muse. This may be accounted for by its publication 
 having been hastened by the announcement of Lord 
 Byron's " Heaven and Earth," understood to be found- 
 ed on the same passage of Scripture — a very sufficient 
 explanation of its holding a secondary place among 
 its author's productions. His latest work of imagin- 
 ation was the " Epicurean," an Eastern tale in prose, 
 and in a spirit of pure romance. 
 
 In 1825, Moore visited Sir Walter Scott at Ab- 
 botsford, and Avas entertained with wonted hospitalitv
 
 MOORE. 239 
 
 by the mighty novehst, who did not fail to conduct 
 his charming and interesting visitor to the Rhymer's 
 Glen, and all the spots renowned in Border history 
 and tradition, which he was accustomed daily to 
 haunt and draw inspiration from. Yet it may fairly 
 be questioned whether the sunny heart and voluptu- 
 ous imagination of the sentimental love-singer, which 
 had luxuriated in all the gorgeousness of Oriental 
 scenery, and in the meeting of " bright waters" in 
 sweet and happy valleys, would be A^ery deeply im- 
 pressed while viewing the purple peaks of Eildon, 
 or crossing the " Leader's silver tide," which were 
 the pride and consolation of the " last minstrel's" 
 checkered existence. 
 
 In 1825, Moore appeared before the public in the 
 character of a biographer, with the " Life of Sheri- 
 dan," which, though valuable and amusing, Avas not 
 considered fully to establish his reputation in his new 
 literary- field. Lideed, it was the fashion of the day 
 to say that Moore had murdered the marvelous and 
 Avitty orator, whose skillfully-prepared and dexterously- 
 deliA'ered jokes had so often made the walls of St. 
 Stephen shake and resound with laughter and merri- 
 ment. "No!" exclaimed George IV., on hearing 
 this grave charge ; " but he has certainly attempted 
 his life." Lord Brougham says, that the frankness 
 U'ith which Moore gave the secret note-books of the 
 famous wit to the world, must almost have made 
 their author shake in his grave.
 
 240 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 Four years later, Moore was again an aspira,nt to 
 public favor, with " Notices of the Life of Lord By- 
 ron." From the large space which the poetic peer 
 had during life filled in the eye of tlie world, and the 
 extraordinary reputation he had left behind him, this 
 work was, and could hardly fail to be, extremely in- 
 teresting. Much had been expected, however, on 
 account of the close friendship that had existed, and 
 the frank intercourse that had taken place, between 
 the distinguished wa'iter and the hero whose sayings 
 and doings his pen aspired to immortalize. More- 
 over, the mystery attached to the autobiography that 
 had been destroyed was not forgotten. The literary 
 enterprise, when executed, was not deemed quite sat- 
 isfactory ; it was encompassed with perplexing and 
 insuperable difficulties, and the "book was necessarily 
 the reverse of faultless. In fact, even if he had the 
 inclination, it was almost impossible for him to com- 
 ment with any degree cf freedom or severity on the 
 failings and follies of a man with whom he had been 
 long on terms so intimate ; even if the danger and 
 delicacy of the arduous task had not been indefinitely 
 increased by respect and consideration for the feelings 
 of many persons then still living. 
 
 The notices of Byron's life were followed by " Me- 
 moirs of Lord Edward Fitzgerald," whose career had 
 attracted Moore's ardent and most consecrated sym- 
 pathies. The life of this ill-fated nobleman was writ- 
 ten throughout with heart and feeling : and, perhaps,
 
 MOORE. 241 
 
 may be taken as the most favorable specimen of its 
 author's prose style. Besides, he had shown his 
 prowess in poUtical and rehgious controver.sy, in the 
 " Life of Captain Rock," as also in the " Travels of 
 ail Irish Gentleman ;" and he contributed a history of 
 Ireland to " Lardner's Cyclopaedia." These emana- 
 tions are characterized by much of the beauty of lan- 
 guage, liveliness of remark, and tenderness of senti- 
 ment, displayed in his metrical writings, but without 
 being received with similar tokens of approbation. 
 The surpassing charms of his happy and exuberant 
 verse, ever displaying a fancy rich, spirited, elegant, 
 and impassioned, though not sublime, or always im- 
 mortal, have been universally felt and confessed ; the 
 encnantment they produced for a time on the public 
 mind and imagination, was beyond ail dispute or 
 question ; but with his prose works it was widely 
 difiereut. Whatever their intrinsic merits, they have 
 failed to rank in public interest or estimation w^itk 
 his poetic compositions. 
 
 Nevertheless, the nature of some of them, the sub- 
 jects to which they related, and the principles they 
 sought to maintain, support, and vindicate, were such, 
 that the Irish patriots of the period conceived their 
 author fairly entitled to share in the glories they were 
 acquiring, and the laurels they were reaping in the 
 British Parliament. This conclusion being arrived at, 
 Moore was graciously requested to leave his quiet and 
 peaceful abode in Wiltshire, and appear as a candidate 
 
 a
 
 242 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 for the representation of Limerick, in order that he 
 might " pursue the triumph and partake the gale." 
 He was not, however, so ambitious of senatorial rank 
 as to accept of an honor, -v^hich the peculiar circum- 
 stances under which it could have been conferred, and 
 the conditions on which it would have been held, ren- 
 dered, to say the least, equivocal in character. 
 
 Moore, by the favor of his political friends, enjoyed 
 a pension from the crown during the latter years of 
 his life ; but they were darkened, and his beaming 
 intellect clouded, by the domestic losses and calami- 
 ties, which, at this period, he had to endure. 
 
 The once gay, vivacious, and captivating poet, died 
 at his residence, Slopperton Cottage, near Devizes, on 
 the 26th of Februarj^ 1852, and he was laid at rest 
 in the green church-yard at Bonham.
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 Three months previous to the date when the ashes 
 of Sir Godfrey Kneller mingled with kindred dust, 
 the first Enghshman who, according to the eloquent 
 eulogium of Burke, added the praise of the elegant 
 arts to the other glories of his covmtry, was cradled, 
 with time-honored formalities, in a borough town of 
 Devonshire. 
 
 Joshua Reynolds was the tenth of the numerous 
 family with which his parents — a worthy and old- 
 fashioned couple — were blessed. His father was a 
 scholar and divine, known and valued in the province 
 for the respectability of his learning, the innocence of 
 his heart, and the simplicity of his mind. Besides, he 
 is stated to have been of so singularly absent a ten- 
 dency, that once, while performing a journey on horse- 
 back, he dropped one of his top-boots by the way, 
 without perceiving the unusual and mconvenient loss 
 he had met with. Doubtless when he arrived at 
 home, this laughable and disastrous incident would 
 furnish his fruitful dame, Theophila, with the text of 
 a difi'use and impassioned curtain-lecture, and, per- 
 haps, make the reverend personage considerably more 
 careful when in future he escaped for a while from
 
 844 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 his toils and fatigues as head-master of the grammar- 
 school of Plympton. There his distinguished son was 
 born on the 16th of July, 1723 ; and there he was 
 ere long inspired with the ambition of linkmg his 
 name indestructibly with that glorious art of which 
 he became so successful a cultivator. 
 
 The occasion of the high-fated infant's presentation 
 at the baptismal font was rendered memorable by a 
 mistake so awkward and peculiar, as to furnish reason- 
 able grounds for believing the mental characteristics 
 of the elder Reynolds to have been then at work. In 
 any case, the officiating clergyman was led by some 
 process to pronounce the Christian name of Joseph 
 instead of that by which the child then presented has 
 since been known to the world, as well as registered 
 in the records of fortune and the rolls of fame. On 
 the education of young Reynolds much less attention 
 was bestowed than might have been expected from 
 the circumstances of his birth ; and he did not profit 
 to any large extent by such instruction as he received. 
 He did not obtain any great stock of classical knowl- 
 edge ; but his deficiency in this important respect, 
 though never supphed, was, in after days, counter- 
 vailed and thrown into the background by the in- 
 formation which he had acquired in untiring study of 
 Nature and perseverance in Art, in that commerce 
 with the most refined portion of the British public, of 
 which, for many long years, he had the advantage, 
 and m the constant and familiar intercourse which.
 
 SIH JOSHUA REYNOLDS. -245 
 
 during prosperous manhood, he maintained with men 
 of genius, intellect, and erudition. But, however little 
 inclined to pore over Latin and Greek books, his heart 
 Avas, without loss of time, turned toward an accom- 
 plishment which he afterward found of infinitely 
 greater value. Almost in infancy he began to show 
 signs of his vocation for the pursuit which made him 
 one of the most remarkable men, and the greatest 
 painter, of his age ; and his first effort was the copy- 
 ing of some drawings made by his sisters. He was 
 then in early boyhood, and he next applied the artistic 
 skill he possessed to the imitation of such prints as 
 illustrated the volumes in his father's library ; particu- 
 larly those in an old Book of Emblems, which was 
 inherited, along with her Dutch blood, from a grand- 
 mother, who had come from Holland. The clerical 
 pedagogue did not smile on these juvenile attempts, 
 nor did he look with a propitious eye on the direction 
 his son's talents were taking. However absent schol- 
 ars may be in regard to other matters, especially those 
 which chiefly concern themselves, they are usually 
 observant enough when the welfare and interests of 
 their children are at stake. Even Adam Warner 
 awoke from day-dreams about the Eureka when he 
 saw the lordly chamberlain whispering soft tales in 
 the ear of his beauteous daughter ; and Parson Rey- 
 nolds, though so much occupied with sage reflections 
 that he could only find time to indicate to his wife by 
 monosvUables whether he would have tea or coffee on
 
 246 FOOTPRINTS OK FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 an afternoon, opened his eyes to the fact, that Joshua's 
 industry in drawing and coloring, with the rude ma- 
 terials within his reach, contrasted disagreeably with 
 his remissness in attending to the lessons of the school 
 over which he presided. Thus he denounced the 
 boyish essays as the offspring of pure idleness, and the 
 author of them was destined for the medical profession. 
 Though, perhaps, this was decided on with little con- 
 sideration for his own wishes, Reynolds stated in after 
 life, that if such had been his fortune, he would have 
 exerted himself as strenuously to become an eminent 
 physician as he strove with success to be a great 
 painter. However, the paternal views were suddenly 
 and fortunately changed. 
 
 Having, about his eighth year, met with the 
 "Jesuit's Perspective," young Reynolds read and di- 
 gested its contents with so much earnestness, that he 
 was enabled to execute a drawing of the school-house 
 on the principles asserted in the treatise. This, when 
 exhibited in the family circle, quite astonished the 
 anxious father, who, with gratified pride, pronounced 
 the execution wonderful ; and he began to regard the 
 juvenile artist's predilections with comparative com- 
 placency. Upon this, Reynolds devoted himself more 
 arduously to his chosen studies, took likenesses of the 
 inmates of the house, improved perceptibly in execu- 
 tion, and quite neglected his school exercises. He was 
 confirmed in his love of art by reading Richardson's 
 ''Treatise on Painting," which so captivated and in-
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 24?. 
 
 spired his mind and imagination, that Raphael seemed 
 to him the most marvelous name in ancient or modern 
 annals. Thus charmed and stimulated, he continued 
 to make numerous sketches and portraits, which were 
 recognized by his friends as evidencing progressive 
 improvement. Nothing was now wanting but a field 
 in which to practice and bring to perfection the talents 
 with which he had been bountiluUy endowed, to confer 
 pleasure on his fellow inen, and to refine their tastes. 
 While Reynolds was in his nineteenth year, a neigh- 
 bor and acquauitance of the family, observing that a 
 provincial place was too limited a sphere for the proper 
 cultivation of such powers, recommended that the 
 aspiring lad should be placed under proper tuition in 
 London. Accordingly, in the autumn, the future 
 knightly President of the Royal Academy was on his 
 way to the metropolis, and consigned to the care and 
 superintendence of Hudson, who, though at the period 
 much employed in the manufacture of portraits, was 
 not possessed of any surpassing skill or taste in art. A 
 contract was entered into, that if the veteran approved 
 of his pupil's conduct, he was to retain the latter's 
 services for a term of four years ; but he reserved the 
 power of discharging the assistant at pleasure. Per- 
 haps, in tliis position Reynolds was merry enough ; 
 for there were other youths in Hudson's studio, and 
 on warm summer days they had opportunities of mak- 
 ing agreeable excursions, rambling about the country 
 and admiring the scenery.
 
 248 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 While thus situated, Reynolds had the gratification 
 of exchanging courtesies with a famous poet, who 
 had aspired, without any particular success, to excel- 
 lence in the kindred art of painting. He was attend- 
 ing a public sale of pictures ; and just before the hero 
 of the hour raised his voice and brandished his ham- 
 mer, the name of Pope was passed round, and all re- 
 spectfully made way for the friend of Bolingbroke. 
 Those who were near held out their hands ; and Rey- 
 nolds being among the number, had the distinction of 
 a gentle shake from those bony fingers which had so 
 often been made the instruments of bitter and brilhant 
 sarcasm. The wheel of time rolled round ; thepaintei", 
 seated among the literary magnates of another genera- 
 tion, still felt pride in relating this interesting little 
 incident ; his admiration of the crooked bard was un- 
 abated ; he was at great pains to procure a fan on 
 which was one of Pope's efibrts in painting ; and the 
 recollection of their meeting filled him with satisfac- 
 tion, even when youths, as in the case of Northcote, 
 were pressing forward, through crowds, to indulge in 
 the luxury of touching his own skirt. 
 
 Reynolds continued to pursue his artistic career un- 
 der Hudson's inspection for two years, during which 
 he drew many heads with so unquestionable a success, 
 that he thereby excited and inflamed the jealousy of 
 his instructor, who foretold, with a pang, that his 
 pupil would yet arrive at rare celebrity. At length 
 he executed the portrait of an elderly domestic, who
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 24«» 
 
 acted as cook ia the establishment, which, oil being 
 exhibited in the gallery, was immensely applauded for 
 its superiority ot" style. The praise was by no means 
 grateful to Hudson's ear. Perhaps it was more than 
 flesh and blood could reasonably be expected to bear 
 with patience. In any case, he seized upon the first 
 decent pretext to pick a quarrel with the ambitious 
 juvenile. 
 
 The latter had been one day requested to convey 
 a picture to a certain drapery-painter ; but as the 
 weather happened to be rainy, he concluded that there 
 would be no harm in delaying its delivery till next 
 morning. At breakfast, Hudson querulously inquired 
 why it had not been taken the evening before, and was 
 informed that the rain had been the cause of the 
 delay. 
 
 " Well," he exclaimed, " since you have not obeyed 
 my orders, you must leave my house." 
 
 Reynolds pleaded for a brief reprieve, but in vain. 
 He asked to be allowed to write an explanation of the 
 matter, and obtain his father's advice. But Hudson 
 was inexorable ; he adhered sternly to his harsh man- 
 date, and Reynolds, going to an uncle who resided at 
 the Temple, thence wrote to his father that he had 
 been dismissed. The latter took the affair into grave 
 consideration, held a sage consultation with his neigh- 
 bor. Lord Edgecumbe, and directed the young artist 
 to return home. Retirement to the obscurity of 
 Devonshire might delay the progress, but could not
 
 250 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 altogether conceal the reality, of the talents which 
 were to establish for their possessor so splendid a 
 reputation. His father's limited means rendered some 
 effort for independence imperative ; and during the 
 next three years he executed several portraits of much 
 merit, particularly one of a boy reading by a reflected 
 light. When viewing these pieces thirty years after- 
 ward, he is said to have lamented that he had made 
 so little progress in art ; just as Canova did a few 
 months before his death, when gazing mournfully on 
 his marble statue of Esculapius in a villa near 
 Venice. 
 
 Somewhere about 1745, Reynolds took up his quar- 
 ters for a while at Plymouth Dock, and employed his 
 time in taking portraits of naval officers and other 
 persons in the vicinity. Most of the likenesses then 
 produced were good ; but the example of Hudson had 
 placed him at a disadvantage. His sitters were gener- 
 ally represented with one hand inserted in a waist- 
 coat pocket, and the other stiffly holding a hat. One 
 gentleman did, indeed, request to be drawn with his 
 headpiece on, and his desire was complied with ; but 
 — alas for the vanity of human wishes I — when the 
 portrait was sent home, and scrutinized by the capri- 
 cious individual's dame, she discovered, witlt inex- 
 pressible horror, that the artist, true to habit, had 
 placed a hat under the arm in addition to that on the 
 head ! 
 
 Amonsf those whose features he now transferred to
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 251 
 
 canvas was Miss Chudleigh, afterward the celebrated 
 Duchess of Kingston, a young lady of surpassing 
 beauty, then on a visit in the neighborhood, and a 
 Captain Hamilton, of the Abercorn family, whose 
 portrait was considered admirable. Besides, he made 
 the acquaintance of the future Lord Keppel, and when 
 that gallant personage was appointed Commodore on 
 the Mediterranean Station, the artist was invited to 
 accompany him in the " Centurion." 
 
 Reynolds had, some time before, lost his venerable 
 father ; and be had now to act entirely on his own 
 judgment and discretion. But having been long and 
 enthusiastically ■eager to visit Italy, and being in pos- 
 session of funds sufficient to defray the expense, he 
 availed himself of the friendly proposal, and sailed in 
 May, 1749. Having; visited various places of interest, 
 and been introduced, at Algiers, to the Dey, he landed 
 at Port Mahon, in Minorca, where he was treated with 
 much courtesy, and entf^rtained with great hospitality, 
 by the governor. There he added to his skill and 
 means by painting portraittj of many officers on the 
 station ; but at the same time encountered, and suf- 
 fered from, an accident of ceasiderable severity. One 
 day as he was refreshing himself with a ride, his horse 
 suddenly took fright, ran off, and rushed wildly over 
 a precipice. The rider was not unhurt by the fall ; 
 and indeed his upper lip was so sadly bruiseJ that 
 part of it had to be cut away ; s^j tha^ a scar, which 
 lemained visible to the close of his Ufe was tbe conse-
 
 252 FOOTPRLNTS OK FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 queiice. Meantime he proceeded to Rome, where he 
 had been advised to place himself under the tuition of 
 Battoni ; but on examining the works of that master 
 he deemed it most judicious to trust to his own per- 
 ception, and concentrate his study on the paintings 
 that had stood the test of time and criticism. In this 
 resolution he persevered, with so little reference to the 
 inclemency of seasons that he was attacked, while 
 pursuing his investigations, Avith a serious cold. The 
 effect of this mishap was permanent. It brought on 
 the deafness which reduced him to the necessity of 
 using an ear-trumpet while engaged in conversation, 
 and furnished his acquaintance (Goldsmith) with the 
 well-known and oft-quoted lines in the " Retalia- 
 tion," — 
 
 " When they talked of their Raphaels, Gorregios, and stuff, 
 He shifted his trumpet and only took snuff." 
 
 While at Rome, Reynolds was less employed by 
 English travelers than might have been anticipated ; 
 and he seems to have considered the time so occupied 
 as being almost lost. Before leaving, however, he ex- 
 ecuted an approved likeness of himself, and an inter- 
 esting parody on Raphael's " School of Athens." He 
 remained as long as the state of his finances rendered 
 prudent, and afterward gave it as his mature opinion, 
 that any artist, with large views, should rather live 
 on bread and water than forego advantages never en- 
 joyed a second time, and not to be found but in the
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 253 
 
 Vatican. Michael Angelo he regarded as " the Homer 
 of Painting." On his way home, at the foot of Mont 
 Cenis, he encountered his old master, Hudson, in com- 
 pany with Roubiliac the sculptor. The former hurried 
 on, with hot speed, to gratify his eyes with a sight of 
 the "Eternal City;" and accomplished his purpose so 
 hastily that he arrived at Calais in time to cross in 
 the same packet with the pupil, whose excellence had 
 excited his apprehensions and kindled his ire. 
 
 Reynolds had been absent for about three years from 
 England when, in the autumn of 1752, he had the 
 gratification of setting foot on her sacred soil. He 
 immediately went to Devonshire, to recruit his health 
 and inspire vigor from fresh breezes and his native 
 air. Early in the next year he returned to London, 
 and, quartering himself in St. Martin's Lane, com- 
 menced his professional career with earnestness and 
 resolution. His talents were such as, if properly ex- 
 erted, could hardly fail to meet with encouragement 
 and lead on to fortune ; and their possessor not only 
 recognized the great fact that unflinching perseverance 
 was essential to success, but maintained the opinion 
 that any one aspiring to excel in art must make it the 
 subject of his thoughts from the time he rises till he 
 goes to bed. Nay, more ; he said that those aiming 
 at distinction must work, whether willingly or with 
 reluctance, morning, noon, and night, and expect to 
 find their occupation no pastime, but hard labor. Un- 
 doubtedly during youth he carried this wholesome
 
 254 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 doctrine too far, in asserting that the man would 
 never make a great painter who looked for the Sun- 
 day with pleasure, as a day of rest. But it is satis- 
 factory, and ought to be instructive, to understand — 
 thanks, perhaps, to the dying precept of Johnson — 
 that he did not act on the pernicious doctrine to the 
 end of his career. 
 
 With all his taste, ease, felicity of invention, and 
 power of rich, harmonious coloring, Reynolds did not 
 acquire his legitimate position without a salutary strug- 
 gle. His boldness, freedom, and brilliancy were re- 
 garded as strange and objectionable novelties. The old 
 dogs began to bark. The portrait of a pupil whom 
 he had brought from Rome, in a Turkish dress, and 
 known as " a boy with a turban," gained notice and 
 excited observation. Hudson, perhaps nourishing the 
 old wound in his breast, declared that the youth's 
 painting was not so good as when he left England ; 
 an eminent disciple of Kneller denounced it, as not 
 the least like Sir Godfrey's — it would never answer ; 
 and others were by no means sparing in sharp and 
 invidious strictures. The artist was as little guided 
 by such remarks as was the disinherited knight by 
 the well-meant hints of the crowd around the lists at 
 Ashby ; but, moving onward undismayed, he soon 
 convinced the public that he would pursue his chosen 
 course and win high renown in doing so. He painted 
 the second Duke of Devonshire with a success which 
 extended his reputation in patrician circles ; and uni-
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 255 
 
 versal attention was attracted by the noble picture 
 which he executed of his friend and patron, Lord Kep- 
 pel. But still his celebrity was too recent to be secure 
 against the winds and tides of capricious fashion, and 
 a rival artist entered the field. This was a Genevan, 
 named Liotard, described as having little skiU and no 
 genius, but who, by the patronage of persons of rank, 
 was elevated to an ephemeral and unmerited position. 
 His works were wanting in vigor — in fact, such as 
 ladies paint for amusement ; and they might have 
 passed with credit in an amateur exhibition. Such 
 w^as the man before whom the star of Reynolds, for a 
 moment, paled, ere it shone fully and inextinguishably 
 forth. This unequal competitor had his little day ; 
 and then, deserted by those vi'ho had mistakenly sup- 
 ported his pretensions, he sank into the obscurity for 
 which nature had intended him, and retreated to the 
 Continent. 
 
 Reynolds was a thorough Englishman. In other 
 lands he had, with all his outward coldness, shed tears 
 on hearing the ancient ballad tunes of his country 
 played m the theatre ; and his heart must now have 
 swelled with no small pride at the reflection that it 
 was the first time a native of England had been vic- 
 torious in such a contest. The aspirations which, for 
 years, he had fondly cherished, \^'ere now to be grati- 
 fied ; and he could rejoice in the thought that future 
 generations would gaze with wonder on his paintuigs, 
 and hold his name in veneration. To pursue his career
 
 256 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 with befitting dignity, he took an advantageous house 
 in Great Newport Street, where he hved for eight 
 years. The grace and fehcity of his former efforts 
 brought him abundant employment ; his rooms were 
 filled with noble ladies and famous men ; and his 
 popularity rapidly grew and increased. He was a 
 diligent observer and student of life and manners, had 
 amassed a large store of general information, and coiild 
 appreciate the taste and capacity of his sitters suffi- 
 ciently to speak the appropriate word to each. He 
 ever seized on the happiest attitude, and thus trans- 
 ferred to his canvas the most fascinating glance of the 
 beauty, the liveliest expression of the wit, and the 
 most thoughtful look of the judge or statesman. His 
 confidence in his own powers strengthened with ex- 
 perience ; and every new effort was hailed with en- 
 couraging applause. 
 
 On the occasion of a visit to his native county, Rey- 
 nolds accidentally laid his hand on Johnson's " Life 
 of Savage ;" and standing by the fire, he leant his arm 
 against the mantle-piece, opened the book, and began 
 to look through it. Gradually he became so com- 
 pletely absorbed with the contents, that he continued 
 in this position till he had perused the volume ; and 
 then found his arm quite benumbed, his heart almost 
 enchanted, and his curiosity raised to be acquainted 
 with the author. This satisfaction was not long de- 
 nied him. They met at the house of the daughters 
 of Admiral Cotterell, and Reynolds was as much de-
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 257 
 
 lighted with the conversation of his great contempo- 
 rary as he had formerly been interested in his pages. 
 Moreover, he had the good fortune to make a remark 
 which won, with irresistible effect, on the heart of the 
 sage. The ladies M'ere mournfully deploring the death 
 of a friend to whom they were under many obliga- 
 tions ; " You have, however, the comfort," suggested 
 Reynolds, with grave politeness, " of being relieved 
 from the burden of gratitude." 
 
 " Oh, how shocking and selfish !" exclaimed the 
 sisterhood ; but the man who had lived on a groat a 
 day, and stood behind greasy screens to conceal his 
 worn-out clothes, appreciated this remark as being 
 that of a person who thought and decided for himself. 
 He therefore defended its justice in a clear and forcible 
 manner, though, perhaps, without conveying convic- 
 tion to the minds of the decorous spinsters. At all 
 events, he was so pleased with his new friend that 
 they left the party together. Johnson went and supped 
 at Reynold's house ; and thus was commenced an in- 
 timacy which was only terminated by death. John- 
 son became a frequent visitor, and went without cere- 
 mony to enjoy the great painter's society, who, on his 
 part, declared that no one had, like his illustrious 
 friend, the faculty of teaching inferior minds the art 
 of thinking. 
 
 There is not, perhaps, in the wide world, so full of 
 guile and selfishness, a fairer field for the cultivation 
 of friendship than that which lies between the studio 
 R
 
 258 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 of the painter and the desk of the man of letters. 
 There is httle ground for envy, but mdny mcitements 
 to a generous rivalry ; and the intercourse must be 
 peculiarly advantageous if the artist is endowed with 
 poetic perception, and the author gifted with an artistic 
 eye. Reynolds and Johnson no doubt experienced, in 
 their respective pursuits, the benefit of their familiar 
 meetings, altogether independently of the pleasure de- 
 rived fi'om those hours of social enjoyment which were 
 irradiated by the matchless discourse of Burke, and 
 enlivened by the ludicrous displays of Goldsmith. 
 His friendship with Johnson led to Reynolds furnish- 
 ing three papers for the " Idler" — his first essay in 
 liter aiy composition, and in which may be traced the 
 ideas which grew into his lectures. The efibrt cost 
 him much thought and trouble : he sat up writing 
 them all night, and had a sharp illness hi consequence. 
 Besides this contribution to the " Idler," he supplied 
 some notes to Johnson's " Shakspeare," published in 
 1765. 
 
 The year 1758 was, in a pecuniaiy point of view, 
 one of the most fortunate that Reynolds ever experi- 
 enced ; and he soon gave signs of his prosperity by 
 purchasing a mansion in Leicester Square, which he 
 inhabited ever after. It was a maxim with him, that 
 an artist who marries is ruined for life ; and he seems 
 to have guarded the passes to his heart with singular 
 vigilance, as we do not read of any fair damsel making 
 havoc in it& chambers, thoueh it is quite possible that
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 259 
 
 some early disappointment may have created this rare 
 aversion to matrimony. But whatever the origin of 
 his prejudice on this point, there is no question that a 
 sensible woman who, without being ambitious of pre- 
 maturely dissipating her natural roses at midnight 
 parties, can take a becoming part in the imiocent 
 gayeties which brighten the human heart, is a pearl 
 of price ; and why the artist should be the worse of 
 such an enviable companion any more than a poet or 
 orator, is a question which docs stagger plain men, as 
 it would, perhaps, have puzzled the most philosophic 
 of British painters. He acted on his principle by 
 living and dying a bachelor ; but, in accordance with 
 the custom at that period pvu-sued by men of the 
 middle class, he placed one of his sisters at the end of 
 his board and in charge of his domestic concerns : thus 
 attempting to secure the comforts of a home without 
 being subject to conimbial responsibility. Miss Rey- 
 nolds, it appears, scarcely realized or sustained the 
 character of a perfect spinster. She was possessed 
 of great wit and talent ; and though remarkable for 
 her good sense, she was too much given to essays of 
 her skill in poetry and painting to make a model house- 
 keeper. Thus the internal affairs were not conducted 
 with any excessive taste or regularity ; and the table 
 was distinguished chiefly by a rough plenty ; little 
 regard being paid to order or arrangement. The din- 
 ner was generally a scramble, in which the host took 
 little or no concern ; and the guests looked starply
 
 260 P^OOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 after their own interests. There was no splendor but 
 great abundance. Ease was more valued than com- 
 fort or elegance. Nevertheless, Reynolds had fur- 
 nished his new residence with much propriety, besides 
 adding a handsome gallery for the exhibition of his 
 paintings, and an elegant dining-room, often the scene 
 of " the feast of reason and the flow of soul." There 
 the literary giant of the day rolled his unwieldy body, 
 bit his dirty nails, and poured out his copious talk ; 
 though often a little cowed by being face to face with 
 that profound political sage and prophet who alone 
 could encounter the huge author of" Rasselas" with ad- 
 vantage. Side by side were the greatest actor of the day, 
 and the restorer of that English ballad-poetry which 
 fascinated the young genius of the mightiest of dead 
 and the most accomplished of living novelists. In an 
 uneasy posture, "staring right on," was that extraor- 
 dinary being " who could write like an angel, but talk 
 like poor Poll." With eyes reverentially fixed on men 
 whom he could admire without comprehending, stood 
 Boswell, the minute chronicler of their sayings and 
 doings ; while the master of the house — mild, gentle, 
 and unassuming, round in feature, florid in complex- 
 ion, and of middle stature — listened with lively, but 
 calm and refined intelligence, to the colloquial conflict 
 of the wonderful specimens of the human race whose 
 features his easel has, in immortal colors, transmitted 
 to posterity. 
 
 It is doubtless a proud day with most persons who
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 2f.l 
 
 liave struggled into affluence, wlien they can set up 
 an equipage of their own. Pepys, in his gossiping 
 diary, relates the mighty pleasure he felt when that 
 joyous day arrived for him ; Avhen he could disdain 
 the humble shelter of a hackney-coach, and drive 
 about the park iu liis own chariot, even at the disad- 
 vantage of having his pretty wife eyed with menacing 
 admiration by a royal duke. Reynolds conceived that 
 the time had now arrived Mdien he might decorously' 
 indulge in a carriage, which he had magnificently 
 carved and gilded, the four seasons being emblazoned 
 on its panels. The pride and propriety of Miss Rey- 
 nolds were shocked at this display. "It is far too 
 shov^y," she complained with good reason. " What I" 
 exclaimed the owner, as he regarded his purchase with 
 calm complacency — " would you have a carriage like 
 an apothecary's ?" 
 
 In 1762, the health of Reynolds rendering relaxa- 
 tion and a rural excursion necessary, he repaired to 
 Devonshire, accompanied by Dr. Johnson, who thus 
 had a favorable opportunity of seeing Plymouth, in 
 which he expressed particular interest. FalstafT re- 
 galing himself with cheese and carraway pippins in 
 Justice Shallow's orchard, or the Spectator enjoying 
 the ancient hospitality of Coverley Hall, are hardly 
 more than equal in interest to the sage of Bolt Court, 
 who knew human nature only as exhibited in the 
 streets and suburbs of London, being refreshed with 
 an adventure in the country. The two friends were
 
 262 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 received with no small respect by men of rank, learn- 
 ing, and distinction ; and entertained at the seats of 
 several noblemen in the west of England. One of 
 their hosts indulged Johnson with a feast on new 
 honey and clouted cream, of which the moralist par- 
 took in such quantities, that the hospitable individual 
 grew exceedingly alarmed for the consequences. Rey- 
 nolds bore off a prize of another kind — a large jar of 
 old nut-oil, which was carried home in his coach as a 
 valuable trophy. The change of air had a most ben- 
 eficial effect on his health, and he returned to town in 
 a condition to pursue his labors without interruption. 
 Reynolds was an ardent lover of his profession ; 
 his pride in art was high, and he was ever ready, when 
 there was occasion, to stand forward in its defense. 
 But his character was cold and stately ; he deemed it 
 impossible for two artists in the same line to associate 
 in friendship : he thought Poetry the twin-sister of 
 Painting, and found his companions chiefly among 
 .literary men. It was natural, therefore, that when 
 the Literary Club was established in 1764, he should 
 have been one of its members. A man, however, is 
 known by the company he keeps ; and Reynolds was 
 disagreeably surprised to hear himself spoken of as 
 " one of the wits." Perhaps the term did not convey 
 the most pleasing sensation to a person with a coach 
 of his own and six thousand a year ; and he exclaimed, 
 in alarm, " Why do they call me a wit ? I never was 
 a wit in my life !"
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 263 
 
 His commissions had gradually become so numer- 
 ous, that he found it necessary to have several assist- 
 ants to work out the minor details : he had arrived 
 on an enviable eminence ; and though artists of ability 
 made their appearance, he still maintained his suprem- 
 acy, and constantly struck out wonders to vindicate 
 his claim to the favor of the public. In 1766 he 
 painted the Glueen of Denmark, before she sailed on 
 her ill-fated voyage. Coming events cast their shadows 
 before ; . and he never went without finding the hapless 
 princess in tears. Reynolds increased in wealth and 
 reputation ; his enthusiasm for art never cooled into 
 indifference, and he was never so happy as when put- 
 ting life into canvas. He rose betimes, and com- 
 menced operations ; he spoke little when occupied, 
 but painted rapidly for six hours, and devoted the re- 
 mainder to society. He was animated by warm affec- 
 tions, and had a strong love for children. 
 
 Reynolds was not one of the originators of the Royal 
 Academy; but in 1768, when it was instituted, he 
 was waited on by West, and requested to give his 
 aid in promoting the objects which the undertaking 
 was intended to serve. He was rather doubtful 
 whether the scheme was likely to be favored by For- 
 tune ; and he was one of those who had no relish for 
 engaging in an enterprise, 
 
 " Save when her humorous ladyship was by 
 To teach hhn safety." 
 
 It was, therefore, after considerable hesitation, and
 
 264 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 a conference of two hours, that he was persuaded to 
 accompany the American artist. Then ordering his 
 carriage, he drove to the place where the promoters 
 were assembled. On entering the room he was saluted 
 by all present as "President;" but being still con- 
 vinced that the scheme would prove a delusion, he 
 declined to accept the honor thus voted to him by ac- 
 clamation, till he had consulted Burke and Johnson, 
 who advised him to consent. The king, whose aid 
 had at first been regarded as doubtful, came forward 
 to offer the Academy his royal patronage ; and that it 
 might have the semblance of greater dignity, its presi- 
 dent was forthwith invested with the rank of knight- 
 hood. The latter was, by no means, backward in 
 fulfilling the functions with which he had been so cau- 
 tious in burdening himself Of his own accord he un- 
 dertook the duty of preparing and reading discourses on 
 the principles and practice of art, for the instruction 
 and guidance of the student.^. Of these he wrote fif- 
 teen ; the delivery of which extended over several 
 years. They were pronounced by Sir Thomas Law- 
 rence to be " golden precepts, which are now acknowl- 
 edged as canons of universal taste." 
 
 In 1773 Reynolds paid visits to Paris and Oxford. 
 At the latter place he received, amidst much applause, 
 the honorary degree of Doctor of laws, in company 
 with Dr. Beattie, of whom he produced a celebrated 
 picture on returning to London. About the same 
 date he went to his native district, and was elected
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 2G5 
 
 mayor oi' Plympton. This mark of esteem from his 
 townsmen seems to have given him particular pleas- 
 ure. Accidentally meeting with the king shortly 
 after, at Hampton Comrt, he stated that it had af- 
 forded him more satisfaction than any distinction he 
 had met with : " Always," he added, with the skill 
 of a courtier, " excepting that which your majesty 
 graciously conferred on me — the honor of knighthood." 
 
 Sir Joshua was chosen a member of the Academy 
 of Florence, and, in accordance with its rules, required 
 to furnish a portrait of himself. This he accomplished 
 with his wonted success ; and it was added with pride 
 to their interesting collection. 
 
 In 1780 he commenced a series of allegorical fig- 
 ures for the window of the New College chapel at 
 Oxford. These were followed by the " Nativity," 
 which being sold to the Duke of Rutland, perished in 
 a fire at Belvoir Castle. About this time he made a 
 tour to inspect the Continental galleries. On return- 
 ing, he sustained a paralytic attack, which much 
 alarmed his friends, but his recovery was speedy ; 
 and he quickly proved that his powers had suffei'ed 
 no decay, by the production of his " Fortune-teller," 
 his portrait of Miss Kemble, and that of Mrs. Sid- 
 dons, in the full might of her beauty and power, 
 as the Tragic Muse. While engaged with the latter, 
 \e wrote his name on the border of her robe ; and on 
 ihe great actress looking at the words, and smiling, 
 he remarked, with one of his most courtly bows, that
 
 2G0 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 he could not lose such an opportunity of sending his 
 name down to posterity on the hem of her garment. 
 When at work, he is said to have been in the habit of 
 using enormous quantities of snufi^. Thus, while occu- 
 pied with the large picture of the Marlborough family 
 at Blenheim, a servant was ordered by the duchess to 
 sweep up the snufF that he had let fall on the carpet. 
 However, when the man entered with a broom. Sir 
 Joshua quietly requested him to let it remain till he had 
 finished ; observing, that the dust would do more harm 
 to his painting, than the snuff could possibly do to the 
 carpet. 
 
 On the death of Allan Ramsay, the king's painter, 
 Reynolds was, at the request of his majesty, induced 
 to accept the vacant office. He soon after produced 
 " Love unloosing the Zone of Beauty," and a portrait 
 of the notorious Duke of Orleans. Then he gave his 
 time and attention to painting the " Infant Hercules 
 Strangling the Serpents," for the Empress of Russia; 
 who acknowledged his attention by a note of thanlts 
 from her own imperial hand, a gold snuff-box, on 
 which was her hkeness, and a purse of fifteen hundred 
 guineas. 
 
 Sir Joshua had now reache<I his sixty-sixth year ; 
 his fame was high ; his influence on the taste and re- 
 finement of the country was not disputed ; and his art- 
 istic powers remained unimpaired. His career had in- 
 deed been characterized by the strictness and tem- 
 perance essential to the possession of " a healthy body
 
 SIR TOSUIA RIWOIUS AT RLCNHI IM
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 269 
 
 and a vigorous mind ;" he had reahzed a fortune ; he 
 had associated with the noble and beautiful of the 
 land ; and his wealth, his heavy purse, and hospitable 
 table, gave him dignity in the eyes not only of many 
 v/ho were incapable of appreciating his merits, but of 
 others to whom his fine abilities were no mystery. 
 But his days were numbered. In the month of July, 
 1789, while finishing a portrait of Lady Hertford, he 
 was aware of a sudden loss of sight in his left eye ; 
 and, laying down his pencil for the last time, he sat 
 for a while in sad and pensive reflection. Goldsmith 
 had already been laid at rest in the Temple Church ; 
 the eyes of Burke had overflowed with tears, and his 
 voice faltered by the death-bed of Johnson ; and the 
 immortal painter was ere long to follow. He in a 
 short time altogether lost the sight of his left eye, and 
 determined to paint no more ; yet under this affliction 
 he strove to appear happy, cheerful, and resigned. His 
 illness was borne with much fortitude, and whatever 
 he had to suffer was endured without complaint or 
 irritability. He amused and diverted himself in his 
 drawing-room by changing the position of his pictures, 
 and exhibiting them to his friends. Besides, like some 
 imprisoned knight of old, he took a fanciful liking for 
 a little bird, which became so tame and docile that it 
 perched on his hand, while he fed and talked to it 
 almost as he would have done to a human being. At 
 length, one bright summer morning, the feathered 
 warbler made its escape by an open window ; and Sir
 
 270 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 Joshua was so inconsolable for the loss, that he roam- 
 ed for hours about Leicester Square in the hope of see- 
 ing and recovering so harmless and cheerful a com- 
 panion. 
 
 On the occasion of the gold medals being bestowed 
 on the students of the Academy in 1790, Sir Joshua 
 went thither for the last time, with all due pomp 
 and circumstance, to deliver an address. With un- 
 abated admiration, he recalled to their memory the 
 triumphs achieved by the genius of his great idol, and 
 concluded by earnestly desiring that the last words he 
 should pronounce from the presidential chair might be 
 the name of Michael Angelo. The crowd being un- 
 usually large, a beam in the floor gave way with a 
 loud crash. All rushed to the door, stumbling over 
 each other, except the venerable president, who re- 
 mained silent, composed, and dignified. Fortunately no 
 damage was done, and the proceedings were resumed. 
 
 Sir Joshua offered to the Royal Academy his collec- 
 tion of paintings by the great masters at a low price. 
 But, much to his mortification and amazement, his 
 proposal was declined ; and he exhibited them publicly 
 in the Haymarket for the benefit of his servant Ralph. 
 This transaction gave rise to the suspicion that Rey- 
 nolds shared in the jirofits ; and two lines of Butler^ — 
 
 " A squire he had whose name was Ralph, 
 Who in the adventure went one-half," — 
 
 were applied with audacious and merciless malevo-
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 271 
 
 lence. He was soon beyond the reach of such assail- 
 ants and their weapons of" oflense. After a visit to 
 Beaconsfield, the residence of his mighty friend Burke, 
 his health and spirits sunk with the rapidity which 
 frequently heralds a speedy dissolution ; and on the 
 23d of February, 1792, he expired, with little apparent 
 pain, in the sixty-ninth year of his prosperous life. 
 His body was laid in St. Paul's Cathedral, by the side 
 of Sir Christopher Wren ; and a monument, graven 
 by Flaxman, has since been erected to his memorj^.
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY. 
 
 The artistic genius of England, however potent and 
 exuberant it may be, has never been so freely or prom- 
 inently displayed in sculpture as in poetry or painting ; 
 nor has it had equal encouragement. The creations 
 of the sculptor's fancy and the emanations of his skill, 
 unquestionable as may be their merits and real their 
 beauties, have never ranked very high in the favor of 
 the multitude. Many, whose sympathy might other- 
 wise be followed by more substantial tokens, under- 
 stand full ^ve\\ that a portrait costs less, and is more 
 readily appreciated by their neighbors, than a marble 
 bust ; and even with those few who pride themselves 
 in rivaling the Medici in their patronage of art, and 
 lay the flattering unction to their souls that they know 
 something about it, the popularity of sculpture is by no 
 means excessive. But the name of Chantrey is one 
 which his countrymen have reason to regard with 
 patriotic pride and satisfaction. He formed his style 
 on the beauty and manliness of his native land ; he 
 was thoroughly her own. His taste in this respect 
 was created when the inhabitant — Avhile a boy — of a 
 quiet and secluded village ; and it was adhered to 
 with splendid results when he was depicting states-
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY. 273 
 
 men, wamors, orators, and poets — our Pitts, Welling- 
 tons, Grattans, and Scotts. Instead of struggling in 
 vain to recall cold shapes and uncongenial visions from 
 remote antiquity and distant realms, he embodied in 
 simple but fascinating works, for the instruction and 
 gratification of native talent and taste, the life, man- 
 ners, and costume which came around him in his daily 
 existence. Thus his works are not only more popular 
 than those of the sculptors who had preceded him, but 
 they are fitted to excite no small portion of that sym- 
 pathy which one feels when gazing on the canvas, 
 whereon the features of some distinguished man or 
 beautiful woman have been gloriously portrayed by the 
 pencil of Reynolds or Raeburn. His success in this 
 line first secured him general notice ; and they are not 
 inferior to any that ever were produced ; while his 
 statues executed for public places, with those singularly 
 plain and unadorned pedestals, wisely calculated not 
 to detract from the effect of the more important part 
 of the composition, exhibit surpassing grace and vigor 
 of outline. The story of a great sculptor's life can, 
 with rare exceptions, be soon told ; his existence being 
 unmarked except by the Avorks which he sends into the 
 busy world from his solitary, secluded, and laborious 
 studio. 
 
 Francis Chantrey was born on the 7th of April, 
 1782, at Norton, a little village in the county of Der- 
 by. His father, a stout and sagacious yeoman, culti- 
 vated with frugal industry the small estate he was 
 S
 
 274 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 fortunate enough to possess ; and the future sculptor 
 doubtless delighted, when a sportive child, to lend a 
 helping hand in the operations of the season. The 
 worthy farmer died when his son was in boyhood, lit- 
 tle anticipating that the latter was destined to touch 
 the hearts of men by a pi'ocess and after a fashion 
 which were hardly dreamt of in the philosophy of the 
 tillers of Derbyshire soil. Indeed, hardly any thing 
 could have been more improbable ; for unless it were 
 the statues in the quaint, curious, and terraced old gar- 
 den of some " large-acred" aristocrat, he had no oppor- 
 tunity of gazing on any specimens of art likely to ex- 
 cite his imagination or guide his aspirations. Never- 
 theless, at an almost infantine period of existence he 
 gave indications of his natural bent ; and ere long, in 
 communion with nature and all its beauties, he was 
 inspired by the fine feelings and ambitious desires which 
 aftei;ward animated his spirit to splendid efforts, and 
 nerved his hand to resolute toil in completing the con- 
 ceptions of his ai'dent brain. The contemj^lation of 
 natural objects in all their simplicity filled his young 
 heart and memory with lovely and charming images, 
 which in other days contributed to his success, estab- 
 lished his reputation, and laid the foinidation of his 
 lasting fame. 
 
 Dhantrey was about eight years old when he lost 
 \is father, and was thus early deprived of the pater- 
 nal influence and direction. His mother soon after 
 yielded herself and such charms as she could boast of,
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY. 275 
 
 for a second time, into matrimonial bonds ; and thoug\i 
 she reared her fanciful boy with great care and tender- 
 ness, and survived to witness his artistic achievements, 
 perhaps his exhibitions of talent and inclination were 
 Jess attended to than they might otherwise have been. 
 However, he was educated with the ordinary solicitude, 
 though to what precise extent does not appear. 
 
 On leaving school, he was occupied with agricul- 
 tural operations. Like the Scottish poet, Burns, he 
 could hold the plow to some purpose, as in after life 
 he used to relate. Besides, he accomplished feats in 
 mowing ; in the barn wielded his flail with signal 
 prowess, and, doubtless, found favor in the eyes of those 
 laughing rustic beauties, who look so enchanting and 
 leap joyously at hay-makings and harvest-homes. But 
 whether his friends and acquaintances regarded him 
 as one gaudentem iiatrios finder c sarculo agros, or 
 the reverse, he had long since began to develop a turn 
 for art, by making various models in clay for amuse- 
 ment, though without any idea that it would ever 
 create for him a splendid reputation, and conduct liim 
 to a position of dignity and honor. At this period, no 
 doubt, he caught among those steep Derby Hills, cel- 
 ebrated in verse, that love of field-sports which ever 
 actuated him. He liked the exercise and delighted 
 in the recreation. He became a keen fisher, an ex- 
 cellent shot, and had a fancy for dogs. In after life, 
 and on fitting occasions, he was almost as indefatiga- 
 ble ill rural sports as in his professional exertions ;
 
 276 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 and in the indulgence of his humor in this respect he 
 was not daunted or deterred by unpropitious weather. 
 When Chantrey had arrived in his seventeenth year, 
 his relations deemed it proper to take his prospects 
 into their serious consideration ; and they came to the 
 conclusion of placing him in an attorney's office at 
 Sheffield. Thither, therefore, he was conducted with 
 that object ; and had it been realized, his aitistic pre- 
 dilections might speedily have altogether vanished ; 
 but 
 
 "There's a divinity that shapes our ends, 
 Rough-hew them as we may." 
 
 The intention of Chantrey's guardians and his appa- 
 rent destination were changed by an accident, which, 
 though seemingly trifling in itself, was of the utmost 
 importance in his career. He was passing along the 
 street, and staring about with all the wonder of a 
 youthful peasant, when suddenly some figures in the 
 window of a shop arrested his eye, and filled his heart 
 with an irrepressible longing to be a carver of wood. 
 This wish he repeated with so much ardor and earn- 
 estness, that his friends saw reason to accede to a de- 
 sire, which was evidently the result of no mere ephem- 
 eral sentiment. They had, of course, as little idea of 
 sculpture as they had of the moon, or the north pole, 
 or the Chinese empire. A picture, indeed, they could 
 have admired. A lady shining on the painter's can- 
 vas, in all the pride of gems and rich attire, would
 
 CIIANTREV'd EAKLY STUDIES.
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY. 279 
 
 have raised their wonder : but the severity of marble 
 catches not the popular fancy ; and had the boy's 
 tendency been explained, they would still have been 
 in the dark as to what he would be at. Luckily, com- 
 mon sense taught them that it would be dowm'ight 
 stupidity to place at the dreary desk a lad whose heart 
 was set upon a very diii'erent occupation from that of 
 copying deeds. They, therefore, consented to his be- 
 ing apprenticed to a wood-carver in the town ; and 
 he entered on that course which led him on, from 
 small beginnings, to affluence and celebrity. It hap- 
 pened that at his new master's house he had the good 
 fortune to make the acquaintance of a distinguished 
 draughtsman in crayon, and immediately exhibited a 
 lively interest in that individual's occupations. He 
 took infinite pleasure in seeing him paint, and was 
 careful to make himself as useful and agreeable as 
 was in his power. In this way he soon felt ambitious 
 of following art as a profession, in some higher field 
 than that to which his labors were then confined. He 
 had already made all the progress in carving which, 
 under the circumstances, could be achieved by skill, 
 perseverance, and enthusiasm. During the intervals 
 of business he did not waste or dissipate an hour of 
 his precious time, but was constantly at study ; and 
 even at the midnight hour he might have been found 
 in his lodgings, with a light burning, engaged with 
 groups and figures, and working with the utmost spir- 
 it and the rarest diligence.
 
 280 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 This system did not exactly quadrate with the 
 views of his employer, who, naturally enough, wished 
 his pupil to be a workman and not an artist. More- 
 over, Chantrey, finding his tastes in this respect per- 
 petually thwarted, and his desire becoming uncon- 
 trollable, grew much too enthusiastic in his aspirations 
 to be longer limited or restrained by ordinary circum- 
 stances. Therefore, though only six months of his 
 term of servitude remained unexpired, with the im- 
 patience of genius he gave his master all the wealth 
 he possessed to cancel the indentures, gained a little 
 money by taking portraits, repaired to London, and, 
 thus thrown into the mighty vortex, determined to 
 triumph. But with the hereditary caution and com- 
 mon sense, which were finely exhibited by him through- 
 out life, he made " the hardest circumstance a helper 
 and a slave," and at first sought employment as as- 
 sistant to a wood-carver, that he might live by the 
 craft he had resolved to leave, while pursuing those 
 studies that were so nobly rewarded, rather than make 
 any premature attempt to win that fame which he 
 instinctively felt must one day be his in no small 
 measure. 
 
 He reached the metropolis in his twenty-second 
 year, and shortly after his arrival was induced to pay 
 a visit to Ireland, with the intention of making a tour 
 through that country ; but while in Dublin he sufiered 
 so severely from a fever, that his life was for some 
 time despaired of Fortunately, he was restored to
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY. 281 
 
 health, and returned to London, having during the 
 ilhiess lost his hair, which he never recovered. His 
 appearance M'as fine and prepossessing ; his mouth 
 was beautifully formed ; and he was complimented 
 on' bearing a remarkable resemblance to the greatest 
 of English dramatists. In disposition he was frank, 
 fearless, and communicative ; and his afiability and 
 familiarity in company were acknowledged : but, at 
 the same time, he was a man of the world, and would 
 never, for a momentary triumph, comniit himself by 
 a conversational indiscretion. 
 
 On returning from the " Green Isle," and having 
 about the same period made an excursion to the Con- 
 tinent, he devoted hlm.self with zeal, anxiety, and 
 earnestness, to his professional studies and pursuits. 
 He still continued the occupation of a certain portion 
 of his time as a carver, and executed several figures 
 in wood, which are still in existence as interesting 
 memorials of the great sculptor's earlier career. Doubt- 
 less he had his struggles, and did not forget them 
 when better times came. On the contrary, he was 
 ever prompt to encourage rising artists ; he excused 
 their shortcomings, and recommended their works ; 
 and when unable otherwise to serve tbem, though not 
 in any respect negligent of his pecuniary concerns, he 
 was not slow to use his purse for that purpose. Neg- 
 lecting no means which might aid him in ascending 
 the steep and slippery pathways of fame, he turned 
 his attention to portrait-painting, and obtained some
 
 282 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 notice on account of the success of his efibrts. But, 
 like Pope, he found an insuperable barrier to excel- 
 lence in the defectiveness of his sight. 
 
 Meantime he had continued his exertions and im- 
 proved his powers in that department of art with 
 which Ills name is now associated, by modeling the 
 human form in clay, and arraying it with pieces of 
 drapery, studying attentively the best and most pic- 
 turesque attitudes in which it could be represented. 
 One of his first works was a bust of Mr. Raphael 
 Smith the artist, whose paintings had exercised so 
 much influence on his early career ; but it was that 
 of the celebrated Home Took which gained him fame 
 in the metropolis. Then appeared his colossal head 
 of Satan, which, by its gaze of dark and malignant 
 despair, attracted notice ; and the artist had reason 
 to look to the future with hope. 
 
 When Flaxman ventured on marrying a very accom- 
 plished woman, Sir Joshua Reynolds shook his head 
 at the perpetration of such a piece of eccentricity, and 
 frankly told the struggling sculptor that he had there- 
 by ruined himself for life. The spirit of prophecy did 
 not, however, rest on Leicester Square, for to the in- 
 spiration of his wife Flaxman attributed his subsequent 
 successes. Example is more powerful than precept ; 
 and Chantrey profiting, perhaps, by that so spiritedly 
 set by his more classical contemporary, resolved on 
 taking a similar step. ^ 
 
 In 1811 he married his cousin, who brought him
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY. 283 
 
 so considerable a fortune, that he was enabled to pur- 
 sue the success he had achieved with a feeluig of great- 
 er security ; and he was soon intrusted by the city of 
 London to execute the statue of George the Third, to 
 be placed in the council-chamber at Guildhall, as well 
 as with many private commissions, which added to 
 his reputation. 
 
 He no w inidertook a professional tour in Scotland, and 
 executed, besides other works, statues of the famous 
 Lord Melville and Lord President Blair, as also an ad- 
 mirable bust of Professor Playfalr, for Edinburgh ; and 
 on returning, he was commissioned by Government 
 to execute some monuments for St. Paul's Cathedral. 
 
 About this date, Chantrey had the penetration to 
 perceive and the fortune to secure in Allan Cunning- 
 ham, the popular biographer of British artists, an 
 assistant who united literary capacity and a feilile pen 
 to the shrewdness and indefatigability usually supposed 
 to appertain to the natives of North Britain. That 
 Scottish adventurer, the son of a gardener to the pca'- 
 son from whom Bui'ns rented his farm, after having 
 been apprenticed to a builder, composed a volume of 
 songs, and came to push his fortune in London. He 
 was now engaged by Chantrey, who had a sharp eye 
 to his own interest, as clerk in his studio, and superin- 
 tendent of his works. 
 
 At the conclusion of the war, Chantrey made a 
 journey to Paris, which he had previously visited at 
 the peace of Amiens, and inspected the various artistic
 
 284 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 works in the Louvre with much interest. From tliis 
 point his progress in pubhc esteem was steady and 
 gratifying. On returning from the Coirtinent he com- 
 menced the monument of the Two Sisters for Lichfield 
 Cathedral ; and when this exquisite specimen of his 
 skillful fancy was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 
 1817, it was regarded as marvelous for its grace, 
 pathos, and beauty. The press to see it was unpre- 
 cedented : mothers wept over the representation ; chil- 
 dren lovingly kissed the figures ; and the effect it pro- 
 duced on the minds of beholders was deep, impressive, 
 and enduring. Soon after he produced the statue of 
 Lady Louisa Russell, daughter of the Duke of Bedford, 
 fondling a dove in her bosom. She stands on tiptoe ; 
 and the attitude of the figure is said to be so singular- 
 ly natural, that a little child of three years old coming 
 into the sculptor's studio held up its little hands to the 
 figure, and addressed it under the impression that the 
 form was a living one. 
 
 In 1818, Chantrey was worthily elected a member 
 of the Royal Academy, and as his presentation work 
 executed a bust of West, its venerable president. Be- 
 coming about the same time a member of the Royal 
 Society, he presented a bust of the celebrated Sii 
 Joseph Banks, then president. Next year he went to 
 Italy, and while at Rome he had mucli friendly and 
 famihar intercourse with Canova and Thorwaldsen. 
 With the former he enacted the amicable ceremony of 
 exchanging cloaks on parting.
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTR»Y. 285 
 
 In 1820, Chantrey's admiration of Sir Walter Scott 
 induced him to request the northern poet to sit for his 
 bust. This being agreed to, it was finished in 1822, 
 and presented to the illustrious bard six years later, oii 
 condition of his sitting for another, which was accord- 
 ingly executed. It ultimately passed into the posses- 
 sion of Sir Robert Peel. These are by many considered 
 not only the most felicitous of Chantrey's busts, but 
 the most striking portraits of the great Borderer's 
 variable countenance. The original has been viewed 
 by multitudes at Abbcxsford, always with the highest 
 admiration by those most qualified to judge of its 
 merits. The ample forehead, so full of thought and 
 sagacity ; the penetrating eye, which had looked with 
 rapture oia many a frowning fortress and fair land- 
 scape, and the mouth, grave but humorous, are por- 
 trayed with rare and fascinating skill. The whole 
 face is represented with fine effect, and has altogether 
 the expression likely "o be produced when Chantrey 
 was chiseling, and laughing merrily at some happy 
 remark which had just escaped from the " Great Un- 
 knoAvn." 
 
 The few years following that on which this memo- 
 rable sitting occurred, were the busiest of the eminent 
 sculptor's life. Between 1823 and 182G he is stated 
 to have received the largest number of commissions, 
 and to have labored in their execution with intense 
 devotion and exemplary industry. Nor was he with- 
 out another kind of encouragement, which, whatever
 
 286 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 may be said to the contrary by the very persons who 
 would most loudly rejoice in having it, has always 
 proved strangely fascinating to the imaginations of 
 men of talent. Royal and patrician favor was freely 
 bestowed upon him throughout his career ; and he 
 knew how to use without abusing it. He enjoyed the 
 countenance of succes.sive sovereigns, was distinguished 
 by the honor of knighthood, and had the comfort of 
 believing that George the Fourth, who, with all his 
 faults, understood something of" such matters, apprecia- 
 ted his artistic genius. When this statue was erected 
 on the grand staircase of Windsor Castle, his Majesty, 
 patting Chantrey familiarly on the back, said, " I have 
 reason to be obliged to you ; for you have immortalized 
 me." 
 
 Among the numerous and admirable statues which 
 attest Chantrey 's power and success in this branch of 
 his art, a few may be mentioned : as that of William 
 Pitt, in Hanover Square ; George the Fourth, in Tra- 
 falgar Square ; James Watt, in Westminster Abbey ; 
 and the Duke of Wellington, in front of the Royal 
 Exchange. Watt's statue at Glasgow, Roscoe's at 
 Liverpool, and that of Cannuig in the hall of the latter 
 town, have, as draped figures, rarely been surpassed. 
 Dalton's statue at Manchester, exhibited in 1837, is 
 likewise thought to be of great merit ; and one of his 
 early, though great, monumental efibrts was that of 
 Perceval, in All Saints' Church, Northampton. But 
 there are seen, elsewhere than in his oM'n country,
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTRRv. 297 
 
 monuments from his hand to comfflemorate the deeds, 
 the virtues, and achievements of the departed great. 
 He furnished an equestrian statue of Sir Thomas 
 Munro to adorn Madras ; and for the State-house of 
 Boston he executed a statue of Washington, which is 
 ever mentioned with praise and honor. The hero of 
 tlie AYar of Independence stands erect, and wrapped 
 up in thought. The costume, Avhich the sculptor knew 
 well how to deal with, is a military cloak, which dis- 
 plays the historical figure to advantage ; and the effect 
 is altogether good and imposing. 
 
 Chantreys genius was most prolific and successful 
 in busts. It is stated, that such was his art, that he 
 could generally seize on the likeness of a head in an 
 hour ; but, both in his conceptions and in working 
 them out, he Avas particularly fastidious. He was sin- 
 gularly quick and skillful in seizing the very best ex- 
 pressions which the countenances of his sitters were 
 capable of presenting. 
 
 In 1839 a perceptible and melancholy change came 
 over the famous sculptor ; and at length, on the 2oth 
 of November, 1841, he expired. He left a large for- 
 tune, the result of his industry ; and munificently des- 
 tined it to the service and promotion of the fine arts 
 in his native land. With a view to its responsible 
 application to the intended purpose, he constituted 
 the President and Council of the Royal Academy his 
 trustees forever. 
 
 In his works, Chant rey trusted entirely to form and
 
 288 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 effect ; and his dislike to ornament appears to have 
 been almost excessive. His successful efforts were the 
 result of deep reflection, a fine taste, and a noble im- 
 agination. He strove to exhibit the perfections of 
 nature, and to impart an air of grandeur to all his pro- 
 ductions. He commenced art where Art itself began. 
 Nature was, from first to last, his chief study, the safe 
 school in which he learned his art, and the exhaust- 
 Tess fountain from which he drew the inspiration that 
 carried him onward to lasting fame as a truly English 
 and really great sculptor. He thought that an artist 
 should daily ponder what to avoid, as well as what 
 to imitate ; and unlike his predecessors, who were per- 
 petually striving to rival the productions of by -gone 
 ages, he wisely aspired rather to guide the future than 
 follow the past. He had imbibed in youth a fondness 
 for landscape scenery, which he could represent with 
 success ; and he made many interesting drawings 
 when tavcling to view the marbles and pictures in 
 Italy. 
 
 He was plain and unpretending in manner ; and, 
 as became so great a man, above all little affectations 
 in society, which, however, he liked and relished. 
 Under his own roof he was distinguished by hospitality 
 and kindliness of spirit ; and his house was frequently 
 the resort of men who had won renown in art, science, 
 or literature.
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 
 
 The architectural skill and superiority of this illus- 
 trious man were most conspicuously displayed in the 
 age which his rich genius adorned. A multitude of 
 buildings bore honorable testimony to the fertility of 
 his brain, and the success of his undertakings, at a 
 time when a terrible devastation had rendered such 
 services as he rendered to his country peculiarly neces- 
 sary ; and later generations have confessed with high 
 pride and admiration, that the insci'iption, " Si qiiceris 
 monumentuin circumspice^'' has lost none of its point. 
 
 The pious architect of so many churches was closely 
 connected by birth with the ecclesiastical establish- 
 ment, whose edifices he did so much to improve and 
 beautify. The family to which he belonged was of 
 Danish extraction, but had been settled on English 
 ground long ere it produced the most famous repre- 
 sentative of the name. From a branch planted in 
 Warwickshire came Sir Christopher's grandfather, 
 who traded and flourished as a mercer in the city of 
 London, and left two sons. The elder obtained the 
 bishopric of Ely, suffered and survived persecution, 
 and went down to the grave in peace, after many 
 trials and vicissitudes. The an^bition of the other was 
 T
 
 290 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 seemingly less lofty in degree, and his existence less 
 checkered. However, he became a royal chaplain, 
 dean of Windsor, and rector of Knoyle, in Wiltshire, 
 and had the good fortune to marry one of those young 
 ladies known and sighed for as heiresses. In due time, 
 on the 20th of October, 1632, Christopher Wren was 
 bom at East Knoyle. 
 
 Like many destined to eminence, the future archi- 
 tect was an exceedingly weak, small, and delicate 
 child ; and more than ordinary care was required in 
 rearing him. From this cause he was for several 
 years educated by a domestic tutor in his father's house, 
 which at this period received in its oak hall the Elec- 
 tor Palatine. Wren took care to recall to memory the 
 pretty long visit, when he afterward addressed to that 
 prince a rather high-flown epistle, calling attention to 
 some of his youthful inventions, among which were the 
 instrument for writing with two pens and the machine 
 for sowing corn. The boy showed much fondness for 
 classical learning, and was sent to Westminster School 
 to pursue his studies for a while, under the auspices 
 of Dr. Busby. There he exhibited his remarkable 
 powers of mind, as well as a strong liking for the 
 pursuits of mathematics and astronomy, rather than 
 the useful art with which his name was afterward 
 associated. But his father was a man of talent and 
 ingenuity, and of such architectural taste as to have 
 attracted the notice of Charles the First, to whom he 
 was chaplain in ordinary This circumstance, in all
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 291 
 
 probability, gave Wren's mind a bias toward the profes- 
 sion in which he achieved the triumphs on which his 
 fame chiefly rests, and led to his raising up, in the 
 face of the world, visible and enduring monuments of 
 his greatness. Every step of his juvenile career, how- 
 ever, was marked by the vigor, prudence, and intelli- 
 gence befitting one destined for European celebrity. 
 
 At the age of fourteen Wren was removed to Ox- 
 ford and entered at Wadhara College, where he was 
 speedily recognized as " a rare and early prodigy of 
 universal science," and distinguished by much atten- 
 tion. He proved his mathematical knowledge by 
 writing on spherical trigonometry ; he invented several 
 instruments ; he translated Oughtred's " Geometrical 
 Dialling" into Latin ; and at the instance of Sir Charles 
 Scarborough, a celebrated physician and mathema- 
 tician, he formed some admirable architectural models 
 from pasteboard. In his eighteenth year he took the 
 degree of Bachelor of Arts, and soon after published 
 an algebraical tract relating to the Julian period. 
 While he was thus achieving academic distinction, 
 Wren's pillow was visited by a dream, which Aubrey 
 deemed not unworthy of being chronicled and recorded. 
 He was staying at his father's residence in Wiltshire, 
 in the year 1651 ; and one night, among the visions 
 which his brain conjured up in sleep, he saw a great 
 battle in a market-place unknown to him. He marked 
 the bloody strife for victory, the rapid flight for safety, 
 and the keen pursuit for vengeance ; and among those
 
 292 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 who sought to escape the cruel carnage he perceived 
 a young cousin of his own, who had formerly gone 
 with the king into Scotland. Prohahly, on waking, 
 he thought little more of the matter ; but next even- 
 ing, the kinsman, whose retreating form had been so 
 strangely presented to his sleeping fancy, appeared un- 
 expectedly, after dusk, at the rectory-house, and sur- 
 prised its uimates with the startling news of the king's 
 forces having sustained a defeat at Worcester, where 
 he had been. Surprise was, of course, depicted on the 
 fair and intelligent countenance of the Oxford scholar, 
 at an occurrence which seemed so natural a sequel to 
 his dream of the previous night. 
 
 But Wren wasted not much time in musing over 
 dreams. He was so busy and enthusiastic in the pur- 
 suit of knowledge, and so dexterous in turning it to 
 account, that he was spoken of as a " miracle of a 
 youth." He soon took the degree of Master of Arts, 
 and was elected a Fellow of All Souls. He was ex- 
 emplary in his conduct, and regular and temperate in 
 his habits. 
 
 The great abilities and scientific acquirements of 
 the Wiltshire miracle becoming widely known, he ^ 
 was, about his twenty-fifth year, appointed Professor 
 of Astronomy in the Gresham College. About the 
 time of his entrance upon its duties, this blushing 
 youth, as he frankly described himself in one of his 
 lectures, had a memorable interview with Cromwell, 
 whose son-in-law, being fond of mathematics, had
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 293 
 
 sought the learned professor's acquaintance, and cul- 
 tivated it by frequent invitations to his house. While 
 dining there one day, he suddenly found himself face 
 to face with the mighty Protector, who stalked iri 
 without ceremony, and took his place at table. After 
 a while he fixed his eyes on the future architect to 
 the kings of the house of Stuart. 
 
 "Your uncle has long been confined to the Tower," 
 he remarked after a pause, during which he keenly 
 surveyed the short but dignified person of the youth. 
 
 " He has," replied Wren, with some stateliness ; 
 " but he bears his affliction with patience and resig- 
 nation." 
 
 " He may come out, if he will, ' said Cromwell. 
 
 " Will your higlmess permit me to tell him so ?" 
 asked Wren, with eagerness. 
 
 " Yes, you may," said the Lord Protector. 
 
 Wren seized an early opportunity of retiring, and, 
 with something of boyish dehght, hurried to his vener- 
 able relative with the glad tidings ; but the impris- 
 oned prelate disdained the thought of obtaining liberty 
 from the great usurper, and, after denouncing the pro- 
 posal with ardent indignation, declared that he w^as 
 determined to tarry the Lord's leisure, and owe deliv- 
 erance to Him only. The Restoration soon after set 
 him free. 
 
 Wren resigned his chair at Gresham College when 
 promoted to the Savilian Professorship of Astronomy 
 at Oxfoid, where had for vears existed the club out
 
 294 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. . 
 
 of which arose the Royal Society, of which he became 
 a member, and aftei'ward president. His reputation as 
 a successful cultivator of the sciences had already ex- 
 tended his reputation to foreign lands, when he glori- 
 ously proved his possession of a very different and 
 more popular kind of accomplishment. He had pre- 
 viously attracted the attention of the king, who must 
 have been aware that the youth had been unostenta- 
 tiously storing his mind with that minute knowledge 
 of architecture which proved his source of poM^er ; and 
 at the age of twenty-eight he was summoned to AMiite- 
 hall, and informed that the time had arrived for put- 
 ting his powers to the proof He was appointed to 
 assist at the public works then contemplated : namely, 
 the building of a new palace at Greenwich, the em- 
 bellishment of Windsor Castle, and the completion of 
 old St. Paul's, whose interior had been used as a stable 
 by Cromwell's troopers, and its beautiful pillars defaced 
 and applied to the most sordid purposes. The Govern- 
 ment were in no haste to commence operations. Perhaps 
 
 "The delay was wrought by want of thought, 
 As well as want of heart."' 
 
 At all events, Wren remained unemployed for two 
 long years ; and at the end of that period, delay hav- 
 ing done its work, and there appearing no prospect 
 of his talents being in requisition, he manifested symp- 
 toms of impatience. Under such circumstances am- 
 bitious spirits are not seldom troublesome, and Wren,
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 295 
 
 no doubt, bore himself like other people ; but his com- 
 plaints were cut short by the offer of an office at Tan- 
 gier, whither he was requested to go and (llicct the 
 defenses of the harbor and citadel. The young archi- 
 tect did not pause long to consider the course he should 
 pursue : an ample salary was indeed rather tempting ; 
 but, with characteristic decision, he declined the ap- 
 pointment, and returned to Oxford. 
 
 The condition of St. Paul's, ho\vever, was such as 
 could not be altogether disregarded. Soldiers had con- 
 verted the body of the ancient church into quarters for 
 their horses ; the beautiful pillars of Inigo Jones's por- 
 tico had been hewed and broken down, and large por- 
 tions of the roof had fallen in. The spectacle it pre- 
 sented was woeful in the extreme, and could no longer 
 be overlooked ; and, accordingly. Wren was commis- 
 sioned to survey the building and furnish plans for its 
 complete restoration. 
 
 While preparing designs with that view, he made 
 a tour to France for the purpose of widening and im- 
 provmg his conception of architecture, and visited the 
 most admired works of the greatest professors of his 
 art in that country. In Paris he viewed, and made 
 drawings of, the various edifices, and took due notice 
 of every thing likely to elevate his ideas and improve 
 his taste. He had, moreover, the distinction of being 
 introduced to Bernini, the celebrated sculptor. 
 
 " I would have given my skin for Bernini's design 
 of the Louvre," said Wren, with becoming ardor ; " but
 
 296 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 the old reserved Italian gave me but a few minutes' 
 view. It was five little designs in paper, for which 
 he had received as many thousand pistoles. I had 
 only "time to copy it in my fancy and memory." 
 
 He strove to make himself acquainted with the 
 most esteemed buildings in the city and its vicinity. 
 With a mind refreshed by travel, and an eye impressed 
 with the fabrics it had gazed on. Wren gladly enough 
 returned to England, having, as he stated, surveyed 
 and brought with him " almost all France on paper." 
 He was now enthusiastically intent on proceeding 
 with the restoration of St. Paul's ; but there had 
 arisen among the commissioners disputes, which ef- 
 fectually checked his eagerness. Public works are, in 
 their progress, too frequently victims of private whims ; 
 and Wren now found so, to his dismay. Those who 
 had been intrusted with the management of the busi- 
 ness formed themselves into two parties. One of these 
 obstinately contended that the church should be merely 
 "patched up" to the best advantage; while the other 
 were zealous for the full and complete restoration pro- 
 posed by Wren. The architect, whose fortitude and 
 patience were ever remarkable, reasoned with them 
 in that calm tone which he ever adhered to imder all 
 annoyances ; but he argued in vain. Suddenly the 
 Great Fire not -only put a period to the strife, but 
 opened up a large stage for the genius and energy of 
 this truly great Englishman, whose schemes speedily 
 became the talk of Europe.
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 297 
 
 The dreadful conflagration had destroyed the prin- 
 cipal part of St. Paul's, while helplessly damaging the 
 remainder ; and Wren, perceiving that any efficient 
 repair was now utterly impracticable, conceived the 
 idea of associating his name with a grand ecclesiastical 
 structure worthy of the capital of royal England. His 
 path, however, was not yet quite clear ; for the hearts 
 of the commissioners, " untraveled, still returned" to 
 the old building, and another effort was made to re- 
 construct it. The rubbish was removed, and the 
 enterprise entered on ; but the fall of a pillar soon in- 
 dicated how vain and futile such an atternpt really was. 
 
 Wren was on a visit at Oxford, when he received 
 the intelligence of this disaster ; and perhaps he felt 
 that his day of triumph had at length arrived. He 
 forthwith wrote and recommended a total removal of 
 the ruins of the former church, and the erection, from 
 the foundation, of a cathedral that should exhibit the 
 taste and dignity of the country. Nevertheless, so 
 perverse is human nature, when a change of opinion 
 involves a confession of error, that the system of" patch- 
 ing up any how" was persisted in till the middle of 
 1668, when it was resolved that a new cathedral 
 should be built. Wren now applied himself to the 
 production of several designs and models for the con- 
 templated structure, and, in due time, they were laid 
 before the proper authorities. It appears that, what- 
 ever credit pertains to the rejection of the best and 
 adoption of the worst plans, must be assigned to that
 
 29« FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 royal duke whose insane bigotry and superstition after- 
 ward cost him the proudest crown in Christendom. 
 The architect's temper did not give way ; but he shed 
 tears at the injudicious selection. 
 
 Operations were forthwith commenced in earnest, 
 but though there was practiced none of the tardiness 
 which had characterized the preliminary arrangements, 
 the gigantic magnitude of the work occasioned a delay 
 of years ; and it was not till the third quarter of the 
 eventful century had passed that the scorched ruins 
 were altogether removed, and the first stone laid by 
 the great architect, under whose superintendence it 
 was completed in the comparatively brief space of 
 thirty-five years. Previously to the work being en- 
 tered on. Wren had the honor of knighthood conferred 
 on him ; and about the same period he married a lady 
 of Oxfordshire ; though he had reached his forty-sec- 
 ond year — an age at which men are generally rather 
 disinclined to relinquish their frSfedom. He was speed- 
 ily blessed with a son, who, in 1700, laid the last and 
 highest stone of the cathedral, in presence of the prin- 
 .cipal persons employed in the building. Wren sub- 
 sequently plamied no fewer than fifty new ecclesiastical 
 edifices for the metropolis ; and no man, however high 
 in that art, which is half a science, and therefore 
 requires mathematical knowledge in its votaries, ever 
 imitated with so much success the churches of Italy. 
 His mind was vigorous, his judgment accurate, and 
 he excelled in unity and elegance.
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 299 
 
 In July, 1669, he had experienced the satisfaction 
 of seeing the first of his architectural designs realized. 
 This was the theatre at Oxford, founded by Archbishop 
 Sheldon. It was opened with great and imj)osing 
 solemnity ; and the munificent founder marked his 
 appreciation of the skill displayed in the building by 
 presenting Wren with a golden cup, and appointing 
 liim one of the curators for life. 
 
 Meantime the plague of London had drawn public 
 attention to the defective state of its architecture, and 
 the great conflagration had afforded an opportunity 
 of introducing extensive improvements. Wren then 
 stood forth as an architect capable of making a new 
 and extensive city arise, phoenix-like, from the ashes. 
 He earnestly desired to give beauty and dignity to a 
 capital of whose greatness, in other respects, he spoke 
 in language of enthusiasm. His proposal was to run 
 a spacious street, in a direct line, from St. Paul's to 
 the Exchange, another to the Tower, and a third 
 westward to Piccadilly. The bank of the river was 
 to be adorned with a terrace, and there he proposed 
 to place the halls of the twelve great city companies. 
 This scheme, which had the warm support of the 
 king and his mhiisters, was all but frustrated by the 
 citizens, who found that it unfortunately interfered 
 too much with the rights and property of private 
 individuals to be realized to any satisfactory ex- 
 tent. 
 
 About this period he was sauntering with Charles
 
 3U0 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MET,. 
 
 the Second through the hunting-lodge at Newmarket, 
 in reference to which his majesty remarked — 
 
 " These rooms are too low." 
 
 " An' please your majesty, I think them high enough," 
 said Wren, as he walked up, carrying his figure, which 
 was the reverse of tall, with much of the stateliness 
 of those cavaliers whom, in }x)yish days, he had seen 
 at his father's deanerj'. Charles, with a merry twinkle 
 of his eye, squatted down to Wren's height, saying, as 
 he did so — 
 
 " Ay, Sir Christopher, on second thoughts I think 
 they are high enough, too." 
 
 Sir Stephen Fox, progenitor of that family which 
 has since produced so many celebrated persons — a 
 man who had risen from obscurity to high honors in 
 the state — persuaded the king that a militaiy hospital 
 should be founded. Wren furnished designs for, and 
 superintended, the building at Chelsea, which was 
 not completed till the reign of William and Mary. 
 He also prepared designs for the palace of Winches- 
 ter. In 1784 he was appointed Comptroller and Prin- 
 cipal Officer of the Works at Windsor Castle. 
 
 Wren had been born and bred among men who, 
 from their position, took a lively interest in political 
 affairs ; and, in spite of his multifarious duties, he was 
 far from declining such distinction in that sphere as 
 was not likely to interfere with liis professional pur- 
 suits. He was indebted to the people of Plympton — 
 the native place of Sir Joshua Reynolds — for his first
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 301 
 
 election to the House of Commons, in 1685. After 
 the Revolution he was returned for New Windsor, 
 and became a great favorite with that daughter of the 
 banished king who then shared the English throne 
 with her Dutch consort. She admired his genius, and 
 perhaps appreciated the afl'ection which he entertained 
 for the kingly race whose errors had been her hus- 
 band's opportunity. Being pleased with the situation 
 and scenery of Hampton Court, she commissioned the 
 architect, who had done honor to the patronage of her 
 merry uncle and her gloomy sire, to furnish designs 
 for a splendid palace, to be connected with the pile 
 which Cardinal Wolsey had reared and made over to 
 the bluff Killer of "Wives and Defender of the Faith. 
 The queen was presented with several designs, and 
 selected one which did nredit to her character for taste 
 and elegance, but the sanction of the royal Dutch- 
 man was required before she could finally decide. 
 That great prince and soldier was a hero, though, 
 unfortunately for his fame, one of no very scrupulous 
 nature ; and heroes are generally men of one design. 
 If the question had been how to raise in England 
 funds to carry on the war against France, his judg- 
 ment would hardly have erred ; but the construction 
 of a palace was a different matter ; and he chose and 
 stuck by the very plan which had been prepared as a 
 foil to the others. The queen was forced to yield, and 
 the architect sighed at being thus obliged to erect a 
 palace of which he disliked the plan ; but regret could
 
 302 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 produce no remedy for the evil, and the work was 
 proceeded with. He next designed Greenwich Hos- 
 pital, and during the reign of Q,ueen Anne he con- 
 tinued to enjoy from that royal lady a favor and pro- 
 tection not unworthy of a grand-daughter of Charles 
 the First. 
 
 The distinguished architect, however, had not pur- 
 sued his prosperous course without making enemies ; 
 and the time at length arrived when they could gratify 
 their hoarded malice. When the first representative 
 of the House of Brunswick left his delightful Elector- 
 ate to ascend the throne of Great Britain, Wren was 
 in his eighty-second year ; and though so often thwarted 
 in his designs during three reigns by citizens, and 
 kings, and commissioners, he had done wonders, and 
 on every side there were traces of his rare and fertile 
 genius. The new sovereign, however, was almost as 
 devoid of taste or capacity as he was destitute of vir- 
 tue or popularity ; and, from the beginnuig, he re- 
 garded the venerable architect with an inimical eye. 
 After a lapse of four years the public learned, with 
 astonishment and indignation, that Sir Christopher 
 was dismissed from his office, and replaced by a 
 wretched pretender, to whose undistinguished name 
 Pope has given a somewhat unenviable notoriety. 
 
 The old knight had lived too long, and seen too 
 much of the world, in a most eventful age, to be 
 very deeply affected by this circvmistance ; though 
 the insult touched his friends to the heart. He re-
 
 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 303 
 
 moved from his official residence in Scotland Yard, 
 and betook himself to rural retirement. Re had long 
 simaved his first wife ; and not relishing a prolonged 
 widowerhood, he sought and found a second bride in 
 the daughter of a peer of Ireland. He now took a 
 house at Hampton Court, where he passed the greater 
 part of his remaining years in study and contempla- 
 tion of the Holy Scriptures, which cheered his solitude 
 and consoled him in his preparation for a higher state 
 of existence. He indulged in a sleep in his easy chair 
 after dinner, maintained the utmost serenity, and ex- 
 hibited all his wonted vivacity. Gradually his limbs, 
 which had been active, failed ; and his movements 
 thus became dependent on the assistance of others. 
 Now and then he rejoiced in a visit to the metropolis, 
 to inspect the repairs of Westminster Abbey, and look 
 once more on the dome of St. Paul's. His intellect 
 remained unimpaired long after his bodily vigor had 
 ceased. A journey between London and Hampton 
 Court, then a more formidable affair to a person of 
 advanced age than it has since become, proved more 
 than his frame could endure, and, after a short ill- 
 ness, he died on the 27th of February, 1723. His 
 corpse was consigned to the vaults of the magnificent 
 cathedral, which stands alike the monument and the 
 master-piece of his architectural genius, as his most 
 appropriate epitaph is the brief inscription which has 
 been alluded to at the commencement of this sketch. 
 Sixty-nine years later the surroundiiiT e.irth was dis-
 
 304 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 turbed on the death of Sir Joshua Reynolds ; and the 
 mortal remams of the illustrious painter, whose magic 
 pencil had redeemed Englishmen from the reproach 
 of being indebted to foreign nations for artistic skill, 
 were, with much pomp and circumstance, laid by the 
 side of the great architect, in the consecrated cemetery.
 
 DR. WILLIAM HUNTER. 
 
 The name of Hunter is still of high account in the 
 profession, which was raised and adorned by the talents 
 and virtues of the two brothers. Indeed it is as in- 
 separably connected with the progress of medical 
 science in Great Britain, as is that of Wren with archi- 
 tecture, or that of Erskine with trial by jury. The 
 career of the elder of the distinguished brothers is well 
 worthy of attention, and eminently calculated to stim- 
 ulate industry. 
 
 Dr. Hunter was not only a Scotchman, but to some 
 extent a patriot ; and an adventurer of mark or like- 
 lihood from that country, without a genealogy, would 
 be like the year without the spring, or like the spring 
 without the flowers. It serves to support his pride, 
 and to sustain him in his poverty. In this respect 
 the great physician was not deficient, his grandfather 
 having been a younger son of Hunter of Hunterstone, 
 chief of the name. Moreover, the parentage of this 
 eminent man was respectable ; for about the beginning 
 of last century his father resided, in all the pride of 
 territorial dignity, on the small hereditary estate of 
 Long Calderwood, in the county of Lanark. The 
 laird was, no doubt, a frugal-enough swain, with ideas 
 U
 
 306 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 as old-fashioned as the language in which they were 
 expressed ; but who lacked not sagacity, nor a stout 
 heart and a strong hand. He had need of such qual- 
 ities ; for, however barren or the reverse might have 
 been his acres, it appears that " the leddy," though 
 doubtless exemplary and diligent m " doubling his joys 
 and all his cares dividing," was, if any thing, incon- 
 veniently prolific ; for with alarming rapidity, as years 
 glided on, he was presented with no less than half a 
 score of children — a progeny surely large enough, iu 
 all conscience, to daunt the bravest speculator on the 
 probabilities of the future. 
 
 In the rustic abode, most likely one of those " thatch- 
 ed mansions" at that period commonly the residence 
 of the lesser proprietors of the soil of North Britain, on 
 the 23d of the merry month of May, 1718 — if, indeed, 
 all seasons were not then alike in that impoverished 
 country-, where, in the words of the clever but clumsy 
 satirist, 
 
 " No flowers embalmed the air but one white rose. 
 Which on the tenth of June by instinct blows," — 
 
 "William Hunter, destined to be one of the most famous 
 of medical practitioners, anatomists, and lecturers, was 
 bom and swaddled, with the usual form and ceremony. 
 He was the seventh child of his parents ; and ten 
 years later, in the same place, appeared his brother, 
 who is styled " the Prophet of the Healing Art," and 
 whose wise countenance, as portrayed by the potent
 
 DR. WILLIAM HUNTER. 307 
 
 pencil of Reynolds, made Lavater exclaim — " That 
 man thinks for himself I" 
 
 Young Willie was, no doubt, a shrewd, grave, tal- 
 ented boy, whose time was divided between learning 
 that quantity of Latin prescribed by statute to the son 
 of every owner of a portion of Caledonian soil, however 
 stern and wild, poor or paltry, it might be. Indeed, 
 in his case there was another reason ibr attention to 
 classical learning, it being originally intended that the 
 Church of Scotland should have the benefit of the 
 talents and abilities Avith Avhich Nature had blessed 
 him. Sir Robert Walpole boasted over his cups that, 
 if the intention of his taking orders had been carried 
 into effect, he would have one day been Archbishop 
 of Canterbury ; and had Hunter applied his intellect 
 as vigorously to the study of divinity and Scottish 
 ecclesiastical affairs as he did to those of the profession 
 of which he became so eminent a member, he might 
 possibly have climbed to the position, earned the fame, 
 and exercised the influence, of an Erskine, a Blair, or 
 a Chalmers. It was otherwise appointed : 
 
 " Scire potestates herbarum, usumque medendi 
 Maluit, et mutas agitare inglorias artes." 
 
 At the distance of a mile and a half from his pater- 
 nal mansion stood the village of Kilbride ; and there, 
 in the school-room belonging to the parish, some " Do- 
 minie Sampson," whose sayings and doings have been 
 consigned to oblivion, imparted instruction with a
 
 30R FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 stentorian voice, and flourished the odious leathern 
 scourge, before which many an erring urchin has 
 shrunk, and winked, and howled. To this establish- 
 ment, in all probability, would Hunter travel daily, 
 on the back of a donkey or shaggy pony, with a wal- 
 let on his shoulder ; save when, to his heart's delight, 
 a fall of rain or a snow-storm afibrded a decent pre- 
 text for remaining at home, and making his escape at 
 noon to the weekly market, or to one of the four paro- 
 chial fairs held during the year. 
 
 At the customary age he was sent tu 1 he Uinversity 
 of Glasgow ; and no doubt, as it would likely be his 
 first visit, gazed with wonder on such buildings as 
 were there to be seen. The place was then very dif- 
 ferent from what it has since become. But to a boy, 
 who hitherto had witnessed no scene more striking 
 than a rural fair, who had only dreamt of greater 
 things while reposing on a summer's day by the mar- 
 gin of some haunted and murmui'ing streamlet, or 
 while driving the cows in the gloaming to the modest 
 grange, the venerable precincts of the college and of 
 the ancient cathedral, described with so much felicity 
 in the pages of " Rob Roy ;" the battlemented man- 
 eion, that had lately been the residence of an arch- 
 bishop ; the tall masts of the vessels that had brought 
 colonial produce to an extending market ; and last, 
 ihough not least, the Exchange, whose covered pave- 
 ment was traversed by those proud " Virginians" — the 
 aristocracy rf tobacco — v.-ho wrapped themselves closer
 
 DR. WILLIAM HUNTER. 309 
 
 in their red cloaks, shook their flowing wifjs, prasped 
 more finnly their long gold-headed canes, and raised 
 their eyes with haughty stare, when any inquisitive 
 stranger approached the scene of their operations, must 
 have seemed grand indeed. 
 
 Hunter now commenced his theological studies : 
 and the sagacious sire rejoiced in the prospect of see- 
 ing his son " wagging his head in a pulpit." But 
 after a term of five years an obstacle to pursuing his 
 course occurred, which could not be overcome Avithout 
 outraging his conscientious convictions. In fact, he 
 entertained an insuperable repugnance to some of the 
 articles of faith to which he was required to assent ; 
 and, sacrificing whatever prospects of preferment he 
 had on the shrine of duty, he resolved to venture upon 
 a new field, and make medicine and the ait of heal- 
 ing the study and occupation of his life. He was still 
 a boy, " showing a maiden chin," without that wis- 
 dom which is commonly, but not seldom erroneously, 
 supposed to lurk al:)out the beard ; and it can not be 
 questioned but that hope would extravagantly gild 
 any future that his fancy might conjure up. Yet, 
 strongly as he might have felt within him the spirit 
 and the faculty to ascend the hill of life, and wave his 
 cocked hat in triumph from its summit, he could hard- 
 ly contemplate such enviable success as it was his 
 good fortune to seek and find. Little, it may be well 
 conceived, could he foresee how rapidly he was to 
 emerge from obscurity, and be recognized as one of
 
 310 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 the most celebrated votaries to a profession at once 
 delicate and laborious in that illimitable city of which, 
 at his father's hearth, he had heard wondrous tales 
 and accounts exciting curiosity. 
 
 Meantime, returning to his native district in 1737, 
 he formed an intimacy with Dr. Cullen. This after- 
 ward celebrated man was a native of Hamilton. He 
 had received an ordinary Scotch education, served an 
 apprenticeship to an apothecar}^ and made several 
 voyages in a vessel trading to the East Indies in the 
 capacity of surgeon. He had commenced practice in 
 a Lanarkshire parish, the clergyman of which had 
 married Hunter's sister ; and at the manse of his 
 brother-in-law doubtless our hero made Cullen's ac- 
 quamtance. The conversation of the latter exercised 
 a mighty influence on the mind of his new friend ; 
 and when he had settled as a practitioner at Hamil- 
 ton, a small town situated on the Clyde, Hunter en- 
 tered into a sort of partnership with him. They even 
 meditated it being of a permanent nature ; but subse- 
 quent events rendered such a scheme altogether inex- 
 pedient, and it was abandoned with advantage to both. 
 Nevertheless, it was pursued for years with mutual 
 profit. Being equally and earnestly desirous of im- 
 provement, they agreed that each should pass a win- 
 ter at one of the colleges, while the other should re- 
 main and attend to the patients who relied on the es- 
 tablishment for medical aid. Cullen's seniority gave 
 him the privilege of taking the first session ; and so
 
 DR. WILLIAM HUNTER. 311 
 
 signal was liis progres.s, that he was enabled to inipai't 
 valuable iulbnnation to his young associate. After a 
 season, they parted in friendship, to divide the world 
 between them ; and while his former companion in 
 arms was winning metropolitan honors and achieving 
 innocent, though not bloodless victories, CuUeu was 
 by no means shrinking from the exertions which es- 
 tablish a reputation. Hunter seems to have disdain- 
 ed the company of a fair being to comfort and console 
 him in his way through this troublesome world ; but 
 liis northern friend and contemporary was not so re- 
 miss or self-denying. He forthwith strengthened his 
 position by taking to wife the daughter of some neigh- 
 boring worthy ; but his abilities were not to be con- 
 fined within narrow limits. He attracted the notice 
 of men of pride and nobility — was patronized by the 
 ducal houses of Hamilton and Argyle — filled professo- 
 rial chairs in Glasgow and Edinburgh — influenced, in 
 no inconsiderable degree, the opinion of medical men 
 as to the science of physic — exhibited delightful ami- 
 ability in private life ; and, leaving behind several 
 works to vindicate the high estimation in which he 
 was held, he breathed his last in peace and prosperity. 
 Having thus briefly sketched CuUen's career, let us 
 return to mark the footsteps of his redoubted country- 
 man in pursuit of wealth and eminence. 
 
 Hunter went, in his turn, to the romantic capital 
 of Scotland, and attended the lectures of several pro- 
 fessors of distinction. In the year 1741 he set ofi" to
 
 312 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 gratify his eyes with a sight of London, having ob- 
 tained an introduction from a printer in Glasgow to 
 James Douglas, who, as a surgeon and teacher of 
 anatomy, had fattened in the rich South. This indi- 
 vidual had early emigrated, but had not altogether 
 lost his sentiments of nationality ; and he had, per- 
 haps, a keen eye to his own interests. Besides, he 
 was a man of mark, and the author of several works 
 of merit. He is spoken of by Pope and Harwood as 
 an enthusiastic collector of the various editions of 
 Horace, and eulogized by Haller for the art and in- 
 genuity of his anatomical preparations. Doubtless at 
 that date there were presented fewer letters recom- 
 mending raw Scottish lads to the notice of their en- 
 riched countrymen, than when Wilkie charmingly de- 
 picted a similar ceremony. In any case, Douglas gave 
 the young aspirant a gracious reception, and asked 
 him to repeat his visit. Being engaged at the time 
 with an elaborate treatise on the bones, he was anxi- 
 ous to enlist the services of some trustworthy youth 
 as a dissector, and perceived that Hunter had the 
 sense and acuteness requisite to qualify him for the 
 situation. He therefore courteously invited our hero 
 to live in his house, assist in his dissections, and super- 
 intend the education of his son. 
 
 When the curious and adulating Boswell had his 
 cherished hopes crowned by an introduction, in the 
 parlor of Tom Davies, to the great man whom he had 
 long worshiped at a distance, and nervously blurted
 
 DR. WILLIAM HUNTER. 313 
 
 out, "I do indeed come from Scotland, but I can not 
 help it," Johnson said with truth, "That, sir, is what 
 a great many of your countrymen can not help." Such, 
 however, was not the case with Hunter, who had suf- 
 ficient influence to achieve a respectable position at 
 home if he had wished. The ofler of Douglas was, 
 nevertheless, tempting. He requested time to consider 
 it ; and going to the house of a practitioner with 
 whom he was staying in Pall Mall, he wrote to his 
 partner and to his father on the subject. Cullen im- 
 mediately approved of his accepting the post ; but the 
 laird, who was in his seventy-eighth year, and looked 
 upon a journey to London as a most formidable affair, 
 was already impatient for his son's return, and M'as 
 with no small difficulty prcA^ailed on to give his con- 
 sent. Matters were at length accommodated ; and 
 Hunter took up his quarters under the roof of Douglas 
 as pupil and assistant, and entered vigorously upon 
 his new duties. 
 
 This was, unquestionably, an auspicious commence- 
 ment of his career ; for his patron was high in his pro- 
 fession, a Fellow of the Royal Society, and Reader of 
 Anatomy to the Company of Surgeons. Besides, pub- 
 lic opinion was not yet violently excited against the 
 inhabitants of the sterile north. The "silver-tongued 
 Mansfield" had, it is true, ridden from Perthshire to 
 Middlesex, " drunk champagne with the wits," and 
 distinguished himself at the bar ; but he was not yet 
 lord chief justice nor an Enghsh peer. Wedderburn
 
 314 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 had not yet crossed the Tweed to grasp successfully 
 at the great seal. Lord Bute had still to be pulled 
 out of the apothecary's chariot at a cricket-match to 
 play at whist with, and become the favorite of, Fred- 
 erick Priuce of Wales. Ou the other hand, Wilkes 
 had not indulged in what Lord Chatham called "the 
 expensive delights" of contested elections, nor in the 
 profanity and licentiousness of Medenham Abbey. 
 His services as embassador to Constantmople had to 
 be declined, and " The ]S[orth Briton" to be called 
 into existence to avenge the shght. Poor, deluded 
 Churchill, was sitting on the forms at Westminster 
 with Lloyd, Cowper, and Warren Hastings. The 
 time had to come when he could " blaze the comet 
 of a season," by applying such terms as " the poor, 
 proud children of leprosy and hunger," to the natives 
 of an ancient and noble land, whose powers he did 
 not comprehend, and whose achievements in art, sci- 
 ence, law, letters, and commerce, he possessed not the 
 prescience to divine. The events of 1745 had yet to 
 fill the citizens of London with anger and apprehen- 
 sion ; national animosity had still to be excited to 
 madness by public appointments being almost exclu- 
 sively bestowed on bare-legged Highlanders. Hunter 
 was, in some respects, an adventurer, and one of whom 
 his country had reason to be proud ; but it was well 
 that he arrived and struck his root in public favor be- 
 fore the frenzied cry had gone forth. 
 
 Douglas was not disappointed in the expectations
 
 DR. WILL[AM HUNTER. 315 
 
 he had formed of his assistant's worth and abihty, 
 which he stimulated in various ways. He enabled 
 him to enter as a dissecting pupil at St. George's 
 Hospital, and to attend a class for anatomy, besides a 
 course of lectures on experimental philosophy, givei:\ 
 by Dr. Desagulicrs ; and Hunter availed himself so 
 earnestly of such advantages, and became so expert 
 in dissection, that his excellent instructor was at the 
 expense of having several of his preparations engraved. 
 This aid, so well calculated to afford encouragement, 
 was rendered just in time : for within twelve months 
 after Hunter's spirited expedition southward his em- 
 ployer died ; and having apparently married past mid- 
 dle age, he left a widow and two children, with whom 
 his talented protege continued to reside for the next 
 eight years. 
 
 In 1743, Hunter, ever aspiring and energetic, con- 
 tributed a paper on the structure and diseases of the 
 cartilages to the " Philosophical Transactions ;" and, 
 three years later, was appointed Lecturer to the Society 
 of Naval Surgeons. For the first course he received 
 seventy guineas, which was the largest sum ever in 
 his possession up to that date, as he declared when 
 carrying it to his lodgings, in a bag, under his cloak. 
 But he had not yet learned prudence ; and the amount 
 was soon reduced to such dimensions, that he was re- 
 luctantly compelled to postpone the second course for 
 a fortnight, from want of the money to pay for adver- 
 tising them. This circumstance taught him, after a
 
 31() FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 somewhat stern fashion, that in worldly affairs caution 
 and economy are essential elements of success. In 
 1747 he hecame a Member of the College of Surgeons ; 
 and, next year, went to Leyden. There the anatom- 
 ical preparations of Albinus inspired him M'ith enthu- 
 siastic admiration, and he was fired with the worthy 
 ambition of emulating their excellence. On returning 
 to this country he commenced ])ractice as a surgeon. 
 
 As a medical practitioner, with anxious and labor- 
 ious duties in the widest of all fields — the metropolis 
 of England — Hunter was conspicuously successful ; 
 and, in truth, there are few more responsible occupa- 
 tions. The person to whom is raised the vail which 
 conceals the privacy of domestic life from the public 
 eye, exercises no small influence on multitudes of his 
 fellow-creatures. His aid is invoked to relieve bodily 
 and mental suffering in seasons of distress and per- 
 plexity. Lives are confided to his skill, and the peace 
 of families to his honor. To society, therefore, his 
 character and conduct are matters of no inconsiderable 
 interest. Hunter showed himself eminently, and in 
 all respects, worthy of his position. He displayed re- 
 markable tact in winning the confidence of his pa- 
 tients ; and, even when he gave signs of being more 
 than ordinarily doubtful of success in his efforts on 
 their behalf, anxious friends and relatives placed im- 
 plicit reliance on his tried skill and sagacious judgment. 
 His merit and ability were speedily recognized by 
 election to important offices in two hospitals, being
 
 DR. WILLIAM HUNTER. 317 
 
 reconmieiided thereto by the most einiueut surgeons 
 of the day. His manner and personal appearance con- 
 tributed much to his success, and he began to distance 
 all competitors in the field which he gradually chose 
 for the exercise of his skill and experience. In 1750 
 the degree of Doctor of Medicine was bestowed on him 
 by the University of Glasgow ; and in the summer of 
 the next year he visited his native district, where time 
 had wrought considerable changes among his relations. 
 His father had died shortly after consenting to his 
 remaining in London ; and his eldest brother had since 
 followed. But liis mother yet lived at Long C alder- 
 wood, of which he had become proprietor on his bro- 
 Iher's decease. Nor had romance altogether disdahied 
 to alight on the unpretending mansion and its homely 
 grounds. A cabinet-maker, fresh from the regions of 
 Cockaigne, had settled at Glasgow, and ventured to 
 pay his addresses to one of the sisters. He was the 
 reverse of disagreeable, and " Miss Jenny" was quite 
 content to be his. Her relatives, indeed, conceived 
 that a match would compromise their gentility, and 
 protested against its being consummated ; but this 
 " penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree" resolved, at all 
 risks, to secure herself against the possibility of becom- 
 ing an old maid, took the bit between her teeth, and 
 insisted on having her own way. Then, questionless, 
 preparations would be made for a gay wedding, and 
 numerous gr.ests would be bidden. Smugglers would 
 supply foroir " wine and brandy. The gun, the farm-
 
 318 f^OOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 yard, and the pigeon-house, would furnish the table; 
 friends and kinsfolk would congregate from all direc- 
 tions ; damsels, with the prospect of a bridal ceremony 
 and a dance, would willingly submit to the inconve- 
 nience of passing the preceding night six in a room ; 
 while men combining something of the haughty spirit 
 of the Master of Ravenswood with a moiety of the 
 pedantry displayed by the Baron of Bradwardine, would 
 in hay-lofts luxuriate in such sleep as is not always 
 vouchsafed to kings reclining under gilded canopies. 
 Another event of greater importance had occurred. 
 Hunter's brother John, the youngest of the brood, after 
 attempting to work for some time at his brother-in- 
 law's trade, despaired of sucx;ess in that path of life, 
 and returned home. He soon became tired of remain- 
 ing idle, and joining Dr. Hunter in London, threw all 
 the ardor and energy of his great mind into surger)^ 
 and ultimately arrived at the highest honors of his 
 profession. He had been three years in the English 
 metropolis, and won considerable reputation at the 
 time of Dr. Hunter's visit to Scotland. As for the 
 latter, he was now full of hope and courage ; and his 
 engagements ^^'ere such that he could only stay for a 
 few weeks. But he gave instructions for repairing 
 and improving the house of Long Calderwood, and for 
 purchasing any adjoining lands that might happen to 
 be offered for sale. One day, while riding in a flat 
 part of the country with his old comrade, CuUen, the 
 young Glasgow professor, pointing out to his former
 
 DR. WILLIAM HUNTER. 319 
 
 colleague his birth-place, said, " How conspicuous 
 Long C alder wood appears to-day !" 
 
 "By St. Andrew I" exclaimed Hunter with un- 
 wonted energy, emphasis, and enthusiasm, " if" I live I 
 shall make it still more conspicuous I" 
 
 There was, in this frank utterance, something of 
 that glowing romance which generally animates and 
 stimulates great men ; and the future fully proved 
 that this confidence in his own power and determina- 
 tion, however high, was not in any degree misplaced. 
 When he was held in esteem by his sovereign, when 
 his name and talents were known and respected in 
 every part of Europe, when the scientific societies of 
 foreign capitals were proudly conferring honors upon 
 him, and when he was in possession of wealth and 
 enviable reputation, he could reflect on this frank ex- 
 pression of sentiment without any of the regret experi- 
 enced by those who indulge in such aspirations with- 
 out having calculated the toil and labor necessary for 
 their realization. 
 
 In 1756 Hunter became one of the physicians to 
 the British Lying-in Hospital ; in the two succeed' 
 ing years, a Licentiate of the Royal College of Physi- 
 cians, and a Member of the Medical Society. In 
 1762 he published his "Medical Commentaries," 
 written in a correct and spirited style. Having been 
 consulted by Glueen Chai'lotte in the latter year, he 
 was subsequently nominated Physician Extraordinary 
 to her Majesty. He now found it necessary to admit
 
 320 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 his pupil, Mr. Hewsoii, who had for some time as- 
 sisted at his lectures, as his associate. On the institu- 
 tion of the Royal Academy, the king appointed Hun- 
 ter to the Professorship of Anatomy. In fulfilling the 
 duties thus devolving upon him, he exhibited bound- 
 less zeal and singular mental vigor, as also ingenious 
 resource in adapting his science to purposes of painting 
 and sculpture. 
 
 When Goldsmith was, on the same occasion, gra- 
 ciously honored with the Professorship of Ancient 
 History, he complained to his famihar friends, with 
 some show of reason, that honors bestowed upon one 
 in his circumstances were too like ruffles given to a 
 man who had not a shirt to liis back. With Hunter 
 the case was widely different. By this time he was 
 a rich man ; and — what was of more consequence — 
 actuated by the laudable ambition of making his 
 wealth minister to the progress of the profession, in 
 whose ranks the greater part of it had been earned. 
 Accordingly, having set apart a sum sufficient to in- 
 sure independence to his declining years, he proposed 
 to expend a large amount of his hoarded treasure in 
 the erection of an anatomical theatre, and to found a 
 perpetual professorsliip ; provided the Government 
 "Avould grant a proper site for a building. His request 
 in this res])ect, being made to George Grenville, then 
 prime minister, was not, of course, complied with. He 
 was not, however, to be baffled in his purpose ; anc! 
 on failing to obtam the co-operation of Government.
 
 DR. WILLIAM HUNTER. 321 
 
 though Lord Shelbume handsomely offered to head a 
 
 subscription list with a thousand pounds, he purchased 
 a piece of ground in Great Windmill Street, where, at 
 his own expense, he built an amphitheatre and mu- 
 seum, as well as a large and commodious mansion, to 
 which he removed in 1770. The museum was at 
 first furnished with the numerous specimens of human 
 and comparative anatomy collected by him during 
 previous years ; but his efforts and expenditui'e did 
 not cease at this point. He gradually added to the 
 stores by purchasing various collections of note, par- 
 ticularly that of Dr. Fotliergill, who directed in his 
 will that it should be ofi'ered to Hunter considerably 
 below its estimated value. Besides, he procured a 
 number of fossils, a splendid cabinet of rare coins and 
 medals, and a magnificent library, well stocked with 
 Greek and Latin volumes. By and by his medical 
 friends felt honored in contributing presents ; and 
 the institution became knoM'u and valued throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 In 1775 Dr. Hunter published his most famous 
 work, " The History of the Human Gravid Uterus," 
 illustrated by large and splendid plates, and dedicated 
 to his majesty. Several additions in matters of detail 
 were made to the book from his papers, after the 
 author had gone to his long rest. In 1780 he was 
 elected an Associate of the Royal Medical Society of 
 Paris. On the death of Dr. Fothergill he was chosen 
 President of the Society of Physicians, and soon after 
 X
 
 322 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 a Foreign Associate of the French Academy of 
 Sciences, as well as of the Royal Medical Society of 
 Paris. 
 
 As a lecturer his powers remained unimpaired ; and 
 though in stature rather under the middle size, he 
 was well formed, and engaging enough in person and 
 deportment to set off to advantage discourses composed 
 with clearness and illustrated to admiration. He con- 
 tinued to deliver them till within a few months of his 
 death. In his last years he was attended by his 
 nephew. This was Mr. Baillie, son of a Scotch clergy- 
 man, brother of the celebrated poetess of that name, 
 and afterward a distinguished physician. The youth 
 had studied at Glasgow and Oxford, and he now came 
 to be drilled into excellence by his experienced kins- 
 man. He was to this end employed in arranging pre- 
 parations for the lectures, conducting the demonstra- 
 tions, and superintending the operations of the pupils. 
 He subsequently undertook the continuance of his 
 uncle's lectures, in conjunction with Mr. Cruickshank ; 
 but, ere long, his extensive practice compelled him to 
 relinquish the duty. Dr. Hunter having, contrary to 
 the advice and solicitation of his friends, risen from 
 bed during an attack of the gout to give a lecture, 
 was seized with paralysis, and felt that his end was 
 approaching ; nor did he shrink from the presence of 
 the great despoiler, whose ravages he had so often 
 checked. His resignation was singular. " If I had 
 strength to hold a pen, I would write how easy and
 
 DK. WILLIAM HUiNTER. 323 
 
 pleasant a thing it is to die," he said, turning to Dr. 
 Combe, shortly before breathing his last, which ho 
 did on the 30th of March, 1783. Within a week he 
 was interred in the vault of St. James's Church, West- 
 minster. 
 
 The museum, on which he had expended so large 
 an amount, was bequeathed to the University of Glas- 
 gow, its use for thirty yeai'S being reserved in favor 
 of Dr. Baillie. 
 
 To his young and rising relative he left by will his 
 patrimonial estate ; but as it was evident that, in tliis 
 settlement, he had been actuated by the annoyance 
 consequent on an irritating dispute between himself 
 and his illustrious brother, in regard to the merit of a 
 discovery which both claimed, Baillie declined avail- 
 ing himself of the circumstance. He therefore, with 
 a touching and becoming generosity, abandoned the 
 property to his uncle, in whose mind it was associated 
 with a hundred endearing recollections — ^kith, and kin, 
 and home — the freaks of boyhood, and the vague as- 
 pirations of a clouded and cheerless youth, destined to 
 be so nobly redeemed by the exertion and industry of 
 a useful manhood.
 
 BLACK. 
 
 On the afternoon of an autumnal day in the last 
 quarter of the eighteenth century, two gentlemen, who 
 had considerably passed the prime of life, and looked 
 like confirmed, but highly-respectable bachelors, as 
 indeed they were, might have been observed to leave 
 the vicinity of the South Bridge of Edinburgh at a 
 leisurely pace. They had just succeeded in negotiating 
 the hire of a I'oom, where, with several of their literary 
 friends, they proposed to hold a convivial meeting once 
 during every ■w'eek of the winter that was coming on. 
 In pretty light spirits, from having proved themselves 
 men of the world by bringing this important matter 
 to a satisfactory conclusion, they were — it might be 
 — discussing and denouncing the ridiculous prejudice, 
 as they believed it to be, which prevented their coun- 
 trymen making use of snails as an ordinary article 
 of food, and vowing that they would, ere long set an 
 example in this respect which should have the effect 
 of divesting the public mind of such an absurd delu- 
 sion ; thougli it must be confessed, that when they did 
 attempt to execute this bold intention they suddenly 
 discovered that their appetites had taken an uncere- 
 monious flight. Each of these personages was distin'
 
 BLACK. 325 
 
 guished by amiability of character, and utter uncon- 
 sciousness of the guile and wickedness that prevailed 
 around him. Their studies and pursuits were some- 
 what similar ; and though frequently taking opposite 
 views of debated questions, they were ever bosom 
 friends. But m dress and manner they presented a 
 striking contrast. One wore on his slender but active 
 person garments plain to affectation, and might have 
 easily passed for a member of the Society of Friends 
 but for his cocked hat. He conversed with force and 
 animation, always displaying much original informa- 
 tion ; but the accents that came from his lips, which 
 parted while hstening, were undiluted Scotch ; and 
 his bearing was so remarkably simple, that it was 
 necessary to mark the thin, intellectual face, the high, 
 thoughtful forehead, and the keen, penetratmg eye, 
 before being aware that he had " stuff" in him, or 
 w^as more than an ordinary citizen. The other was 
 of a different stamp. He wore a sort of academic 
 dress ; but it had received such careful and harmonious 
 additions, as proved that he was by no means indif- 
 ferent to external decorations and the propriety of cos- 
 tume. His aspect was comely and prepossessing; his 
 manner was correct and graceful ; he was evidently 
 a person of elegant tastes and no inconsiderable refine- 
 ment ; and he used a musical voice to speak good 
 English, with a punctilious accuracy of expression not 
 often heard so far north at that time. 
 
 The former — the plain, unvarnished Scot — was Dr.
 
 326 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 Hutton, the ingenious philosopher, who thought out 
 and pubhshed the " Theory of the Earth" that goes by 
 his name, having previously shown his public spirit, 
 and rendered essential services to the agriculture of 
 his native country, by bringing, at much exertion to 
 himself, an improved system of husbandry from the 
 rich and fruitful shire of Norfolk, and introducing it 
 into the district where he possessed a small estate. His 
 companion, whose countenance looked that of a being 
 inwardly satisfied with himself and all who came 
 around him, was Dr. Black, the eminent Professor of 
 Chemistry in the northern capital ; he whose experi- 
 ments tended to open up that path of scientific discov- 
 ery which others have since so successfully pursued. 
 
 Joseph Black, than whom few men have ever lived 
 and died more truly respected by his daily associates, 
 was a native of France. He was born in the year 
 1728, on the banks of the Garonne, hard by the place 
 where that river visits the city of Bordeaux. There 
 his father, who belonged to Belfast, had settled as a 
 wine-merchant, and married the daughter of an indi- 
 vidual engaged in the same trade. But with all these 
 temptations and advantages in one of the largest and 
 most opulent of French towns to embark the boy in 
 the commercial pursuits which formed the business of 
 his nearest relatives, young Black was very early des- 
 tined to a medical career. Arrangements were made 
 with that view ; and at the age of twelve the future 
 chemist left his home and native soil, to be fittingly
 
 BLACK. 327 
 
 educated at the grammar-school of the flourishing Irish 
 sea-port towii from Avhich his worthy sire had emi- 
 grated to the fair land of vines. For several years he 
 pursued his preparatory studies in Belfast ; and his 
 maternal grandfather being, though resident in Bor- 
 deaux, connected by birth and some territorial posses- 
 sion with Scotland, Black was, most likely from that 
 cause, transported in his eighteenth year to Glasgow, 
 and entered as a student at the University. He was 
 immediately introduced to, and patronized by, the 
 Professor of Natural Philosophy, with whose son he 
 formed a juvenile intimacy, which was cemented by 
 the similarity of their tastes. 
 
 About the date of Black's arrival at this college, it 
 happened that the celebrated Cullen — :he who influ- 
 enced the career of Dr. Hunter — made his first public 
 appearance at that seat of learning, in the capacity 
 of Lecturer on Chemistry ; his reputation speedily 
 crept abroad, and the attendance at his class became 
 large. The clever and acute French student was 
 brought under the notice of Cullen, who, being frank 
 and generous to his pupils, almost to a fault, made 
 himself perfectly accessible at all hours, and treated 
 them with much respect. He immediately perceived 
 the bent of Black's genius ; and not only recommend- 
 ed, but strongly urged, him to apply liimself with 
 determination to cultivate the science of chemistry, 
 and gave him every assistance in doing so. Cullen 
 was not, perhaps, a firs^t-rate chemist himself, but he
 
 328 FOOTPRINTS OF FaMOUS MEN. 
 
 had an admirable method of imparting instruction ; 
 and his gifted pupil's preference for the study became 
 so apparent, that he was ere long employed to assist 
 his friend and teacher in the experiments of the class- 
 room ; and, when thus occupied, exhibited so much 
 address and dexterity as contributed in no small de- 
 gree to the success and fame of the lectures. 
 
 Black was still engaged in medical studies, and in 
 order to complete them under advantageous circum- 
 stances he repaired, in 1751, to Edinburgh, where he 
 stayed in the house of a cousin, who held one of the 
 professorships. Having, during three sessions, attended 
 all the requisite classes, he duly took the degree of 
 Doctor of Medicine. On that occasion he chose for 
 his theme a chemical topic — the acid arising from 
 food and magnesia alba. Next year he, " still achiev- 
 ing, still pursuing," communicated his further ideas 
 on the subject to a scientific society, in a paper which 
 was then read by him, and afterward published in the 
 second volume of " Essays, Physical and Literary," 
 and gave an account of a most important chemical 
 discovery. This was the exisleuce of an aerial fluid, 
 which he called fixed air, the presence of which gives 
 mildness, as its absence gives causticity, to alkalies 
 and calcareous earths. 
 
 In 1756, on Cullen's removal to Edinburgh, Black 
 was appointed Professor of Chemistry and Anatomy 
 at Glasgow in his stead ; but not relishing, nor feel- 
 ing particularly qualified for the anatomical part of
 
 BLACK. 329 
 
 the business, he requested and obtained the assent of 
 the heads of the university to an exchange, which he 
 effected with the Professor of Medicine. While in 
 this position he matured and made public his theory 
 of latent heat, and explained to a society in Glasgow 
 his experiments on the subject, in the clearest and 
 most satisfactory manner ; and this proved a principal 
 leading step to the discoveries of Laplace, Lavoisier, 
 and others : though they niggardly and enviously ab- 
 stained in their dissertations from giving him that 
 credit in the matter to which he was so justly entitled. 
 In 1764 he had as one of his pupils the celebrated 
 Watt ; and it proved most fortunate for the interests 
 of science and for the fame of both, that these great 
 men were thus brought together. 
 
 Dr. Black was, in 176G, recalled to Edinburgh to 
 fill the professorial chair of Chemistry, which was 
 rendered vacant by the appointment of his old friend 
 and adviser, CuUen, to that of Medicine. During 
 the remainder of his career he was regarded as one 
 of the chief ornaments of the university, as well as 
 a most distinguished member of the literary circle 
 which then adorned the Scottish metropolis, where 
 his private character was highly esteemed. He con- 
 tinued his researches with perseverance and success ; 
 and his lectures were so remarkable for ease and ele- 
 gance of style, novelty of information, and originality 
 of reasoning, that few students ever left college with- 
 out having attended a course or two. His devotion to
 
 330 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 the duties of his professorship was so complete, that it 
 interfered materially Avith the spread of his fame, as 
 others were thus allowed to pass him in that very 
 path of discovery which his genius had illumined and 
 opened up. A paper which he furnished, on the 
 " Effects of boiling upon water in disposing it to freeze 
 more readily," was published in the " Philosophical 
 Transactions" for 1774; and an "Analysis of the 
 water of some hot springs in Iceland," appeared in 
 the Scottish "Philosophical Transactions for 1791." 
 In due time he became a member of the societies of 
 London and of the city where he resided, and, more- 
 over, had the distinction of being selected as one of the 
 eight Foreign Associates of the Academy of Sciences at 
 Paris. His lectures on the " Elementsof Chemistry," de- 
 livered in the University of Edinburgh, were, as late as 
 1803, published in two volumes, by Professor Robison. 
 While thus achieving scientific triumphs, the pe- 
 cuniary affairs of Dr. Black had flourished better than 
 even the most inquisitive of his neighbors had sup- 
 posed ; and the manner in which he disposed of his 
 money by his will was peculiar and characteristic. 
 When he felt the approaches of age, and found it nec- 
 essary to employ an assistant, about his sixtieth year 
 he had a list drawn up of persons who had a claim on 
 his bounty, and whom he wished to inherit his treas- 
 ure ; and he destined it in such proportions as seem- 
 ed consistent with the extent of care and solicitude to 
 which thev were entitled at his hand.
 
 BLACK. 331 
 
 His health had long been in a delicate state, inso- 
 iiiuch that he was under the hard necessity of refrain- 
 ing from writing an account of his brilliant discoveries, 
 as the exertion of doing so for any continuous period 
 invariably brought on a spitting of blood ; and he felt 
 himself in no condition to encounter the criticism or 
 engage in the controversy likely to follow such a pub- 
 lication. Moreover, he is said to have been apprehen- 
 sive of a long sickness, which for many reasons he anx- 
 iously wished to avoid. This fate was averted by the 
 sudden nature of the summons he received to another 
 world. On the 26th of November, 1799, while he 
 was seated at table partaking of such abstemious fare 
 as he had lately restricted himself to, the messenger 
 of death was upon him, and struck the fatal blow. 
 His servitor went into the room according to custom, 
 but observing the cup of the venerable philosopher in 
 his hand, as if about to be raised to his lips, and nat- 
 urally supposing him to be in deep thought, he noise- 
 lessly withdrew. Entering soon after, he perceived 
 his master still in the same posture, but on going up 
 to the chair, was beyond measure surprised to find that 
 the lamp of life had gently expired.
 
 BRINDLEY. 
 
 Few more remarkable men than Brindley have ap- 
 peared in these latter times. He was not only the 
 architect of his own fortune, but added enormously to 
 the wealth of others, and to the public resources. In 
 the acquirement of that knowledge which gave him 
 the power of accomplishing great schemes, he had 
 none of the apphances and facilities which competence 
 furnishes and wealth commands ; but he possessed ad- 
 vantages which were of more value to a man like him 
 — a mind not to be startled at the prospect of its fac- 
 ulties being exerted — a resolution which, in the true 
 spirit of industry, held difficulties at defiance — and a 
 determination whose intellectual efforts circumstances 
 could not baffle or subdue. 
 
 James Brindley was born in the year 1716, at Tun- 
 sted, within the county of Derby. His father had re- 
 duced himself to extreme poverty by habits of dissipa- 
 tion and extravagance. Accordingly, any education 
 that Brindley received at school was, no doubt, of the 
 very slightest and most limited description. It ap- 
 pears, however, that the statement of his inability to 
 read and write is quite incorrect ; several specimens 
 of his penmanship having been produced. He is said
 
 BRINDLEY. 333 
 
 never to have been instructed even in the first princi- 
 ples of mechanics, but was able by a peculiar process 
 of his own invention, to make most accurate calcula- 
 tions. Besides, his memory adhered with amazing 
 tenacity to any facts or iidbrmation committed to its 
 keeping : and by such means did this unquestioned 
 benefactor of his kind countervail his deficiency of 
 early training and scientific knowledge. 
 
 Having passed a few years in agricultural operations 
 — ^plying with the flail or whistling at the plow — he 
 was, at the age of seventeen, apprenticed to a mill- 
 wright at Macclesfield, in Cheshire. In this situa- 
 tion his ideas were rapidly enlarged, and his faculties 
 sharpened by experience in the trade which he had 
 selected, probably from feeling that it would accord 
 better with his tastes than the labors of the husband- 
 man had done. His mechanical genius now began to 
 develop itself, and to become perceptible ; and so ap- 
 parent was his progress in obtaining a knowledge of 
 the business, that his employer frequently when absent 
 from the mills, left him to execute pieces of work with- 
 out finding it necessary to give any instruction in re- 
 gard to them. Moreover, the different millers by 
 whom they were employed soon discovered his supe- 
 riority, and infinitely preferred his services to those of 
 the master or any of the workmen belonging to the es- 
 tablishment. On approaching manhood, Brindley him- 
 self felt that he was destined for higher matters ; and 
 vague presentiments of better days in store occupied
 
 334 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 and agitated his powerful mind as he resolutely pur- 
 sued his daily labors. Little could he imagine that 
 he, the poor journeyman of a niral millwiight, should, 
 ere long, be the instrument of contributing materially 
 to the national wealth ; but it was ordered that it 
 should be so. 
 
 Meantime his employer became so advanced iu 
 years, that he was incapable of working with efiect. 
 Brindley wisely seized the opportunity of applying his 
 skill and ingenuity to the business, proved quite equal 
 to the occasion, and exerted himself with so much 
 success, that he not only kept it up against all com- 
 petitors, but rendered it so flourishing a concern, that 
 the old man and his family were enabled to live in 
 comfortable circumstances. Indeed the apprentice was 
 now the more skillful mechanic of the two, and he 
 about this time gave proof of such being the case. 
 
 The aged worthy happened to be engaged in the 
 construction of a paper-mill at some distance from his 
 own M'orkshop, and had proceeded to a considerable 
 extent with the operation, when some one skilled in 
 such matters observed that he was merely throwing 
 his employer's money away. This remark reached 
 the ears of Brindley, who, though perhaps by no means 
 so zealous for his master's fame as the last minstrel 
 was for that of the jovial harper who had taught him 
 when a youth, resolved that it should be redeemed 
 from such a reproach. He therefore determined to 
 go and inspect the work iu question : though that was
 
 BRINDLEY. 335 
 
 not ill any respect convenient, his time being otherwise 
 occupied. But " where tliere's a will there's a way ;"' 
 and one Saturday evening he set off on foot, without 
 apprizing any one of his intended excursion, and, hav- 
 ing obtained a sight of the object of his journey, re- 
 turned on Monday morning in time for his work, after 
 having walked a distance of fifty miles. He was 
 altogether without the advantage of having seen a 
 mill of the same kind before ; but, nevertheless, was 
 by this brief and cursory survey enabled to compre- 
 hend every thing necessary to its being properly com- 
 pleted. Taking the work under liis superintendence, 
 he brought it to a termination that gave the proprietor 
 perfect satisfaction. 
 
 Brindley's reputation after the success of this im- 
 dertaking rose high in the neighborhood, and he was 
 induced to commence business on his own account. 
 His abilities soon became widely knowii and appre- 
 ciated, and he was extensively employed. He reaped 
 much credit from the erection of an engine intended 
 to drain a coal-mine at Clifton, in that bustling Lan- 
 cashire where the cries are ever " Onward I" and 
 " Haste I" which was afterward the sphere of his sci- 
 entific triumphs, and with the history of which his 
 name is so honorably linked. Under his auspices this 
 piece of work proceeded with unexpected and amazmg 
 rapidity, notwithstanding the difficulties by which it 
 was encompassed. 
 
 About this period a silk mill was being erected at
 
 336 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 Congl^ton, in Cheshire. The more intricate machinery 
 was intrusted to a more experienced person, and Brind- 
 ley was engaged merely to furnish the larger wheels 
 and coarser apjDaratus. It soon appeared, that in this 
 division of" labor the Derbyshire aspirant had been 
 treated with less than justice. He was constantly 
 compelled to point out and rectify the errors and bliui- 
 ders ; and at length, tiring of the irksome and invidious 
 task, he resolutely refused to remain in a subordinate 
 capacity to a person whose inferiority, in all that re- 
 lated to the matter in hand, was proved incontestably 
 by the experience of each succeeding day. Then his 
 employers, seeing how the case really stood, and pru- 
 dently considering that their own interests were con- 
 cerned in Brindley's services being retained, appointed 
 him sole manager of the work ; which he not only 
 brought to a satisfactory conclusion, but added several 
 improvements of no inconsiderable value or import- 
 ance. 
 
 "While his name was rising and his reputation in- 
 creasing, he had the good fortune of becoming known 
 to the Duke of Bridgewater. The latter was no 
 ordinary man. The youngest of five children, who 
 successively died off, he was, in boyhood, regarded as 
 so sickly that his life was despaired of and his intellect 
 doubted. On this account his education was for a 
 time neglected. However, he was sent on a Conti- 
 nental tour, under the guidance of a traveling tutor, 
 and no doubt used his eyes to better purpose than had
 
 BRINDLEY. 337 
 
 been anticipated by his guardians, or than his imme- 
 diate pursuits would have led them to suppose. On 
 returning to England, he set about enjoying himself 
 after the fashion of the day. He appeared as the 
 owner of race-horses, as a gentleman-rider, as the fre- 
 quenter of aristocratic assemblies, and as the successful 
 suitor of a celebrated beauty. It was on the last 
 point that his fate turned. Circumstances of a pecu- 
 liar natiu-e interfered with the matrimonial project, 
 and prevented the union. The young duke vowed 
 perpetual celibacy, declared he W'ould never address 
 another female in accents of gallantry, and abandon- 
 ing fashionable society, with all its pains, and pleas- 
 ures, and excitements, retired, with honor, to his 
 estates in the county of Lancaster. 
 
 Fortunately this representative of Lord Chancellor 
 EUesmere was gifted with an ardent diligence which 
 his illustrious progenitor might have envied, and he 
 forthwith began to develop the resources which lay 
 dormant in his hereditary possessions. Mr. Gilbert, a 
 person who had been tnuch engaged in mining opera- 
 tions, became his assistant, and exhibited a spirit of 
 energy and perseverance kindred with that of his em- 
 ployer. Brindley's provincial fame was now not in- 
 considerable, and he soon became acquainted with the 
 young patrician, who had fled from the wiles of noble 
 matrons, and the fascinations of their fairer daughters, 
 to bleak coal-iields and barren moors. 
 
 The man who was now introduced to the theri thin 
 Y
 
 338 FOOTPRINTS OF P'AMOUS MEN. 
 
 and slender duke, who had escaped from race-courses, 
 ball-rooms, and gaming-tables, to earn for himself the 
 proud and honorable title of the " Father of British 
 Inland Navigation," was plain in appearance and 
 boorish in manners. But whenever he spoke bystand- 
 ers listened with pleased surprise at the enterprising 
 courage which his words betokened ; and his conver- 
 sation was in no small degree indicative of one of the 
 strong, rough, resolute, master minds, whose workings 
 — stern and independent — frequently benefit largely 
 the human species, and minister to the civilization of 
 the wide world. He was just such a man as the duke 
 stood in need of for the carrying out of his plans of 
 improvement, and he readily consented to take service 
 with that view. 
 
 The first undertaking on which Brindley entered in 
 his new position was the Bridgewater Canal. Having 
 surveyed the ground, and reported that it presented 
 no insuperable difficulties, an Act of Parliament was 
 obtained, and the enterprise proceeded with under his 
 superintendence. The self-taught engineer M'as brand- 
 ed by turns as an enthusiast, a madman, and a person 
 unworthy of trust ; but his intellectual courage and 
 unshrinking confidence in the expedients of his own 
 bold, powerful, and original mind defied all such as- 
 saults ; and he remained unmoved by the sneers, 
 scorn, and ridicule directed against his projects. His 
 heart and soul were in the enterprise, and obstacles 
 disappeared before his determined will. Strangers
 
 BRINDLEY. 339 
 
 came from afar to view the gigantic operations, and 
 marveled at the facihty with which the plain, hard- 
 headed, illiterate man, found means to handle huge 
 rocks, and remove them at his pleasure. This pursuit 
 completely monopolized his thoughts and occupied his 
 attention ; he cared not for recreation or amusement. 
 Unceasing industry seemed the law of his being. "When 
 in London he was once persuaded to go to the theatre, 
 but declared that the whole scene so confused his 
 ideas, and unfitted him for business, that he would, 
 on no consideration, repeat his visit. 
 
 He appears to have had no idea of the beauties of 
 nature, nor any perception of the objects which make 
 up fine scenery. When under examination by a com- 
 mittee of the House of Commons, he was asked for 
 what purpose he conceived rivers to have been created ? 
 and, after a slight pause, replied, 
 
 " Undoubtedly to feed canals." 
 
 To the end of his extraordinary career, this won- 
 derful man was occupied in his favorite pursuits, and 
 his application to the subject was intense throughout. 
 While the Grand Trunk Navigation Canal, to which 
 he devoted so much thought and energy, was progress- 
 ing toward completion under his auspices, and he was 
 feeding his mind with visions of the great things it 
 was to accomplish, his death, hastened by mental ex- 
 ertion, took place at Turuhurst, in Stafibrdshire, on 
 the 27th of September, 1772.
 
 WATT. 
 
 Among " famous men," Watt occupies a most dis- 
 tinguished position as a real benefactor of the world. 
 Though he stated that he knew only two pleasures 
 — idleness and sleep, study and business might not 
 improperly have been added. His industry and per- 
 severance eminently qualified him for a career of in- 
 vention and enterprise, and he pursued it with almost 
 unparalleled success. His intellectual faculties were 
 exercised without ceasing to the end of his long and 
 momentous life ; he practiced constant meditation ; 
 and he was thus enabled to minister more than any 
 of his contemporaries to the progress of material civil- 
 ization. 
 
 James Watt was born on the 19th of January, 
 1736, at Greenock, where his father was a merchant. 
 He was first instructed in reading by his mother, and 
 then placed at a day-school ; but being exceedingly 
 delicate, his attendance was somewhat irregular. When 
 absent from school, he was far from suspending the 
 exercise of those faculties which afterward accom- 
 plished so much ; for his mind was of so inquiring a 
 nature, that he began almost in childhood to manifest 
 a strong and ardent taste for geometry and mechanics.
 
 WATT. 341 
 
 This was probably, in some measure, inspired by the 
 example of his grandfather and uncle, both of whom 
 had excelled as teachers of mathematics. 
 
 It is related that a person one day calling on his 
 father, and observing the little boy busily occupied 
 in drawuig numerous lines on the hearthstone with a 
 piece of chalk, remarked that the child ought to be 
 sent to school, and not allowed to idle away his time 
 in such a manner. 
 
 "But," said his father, " look what he is about be- 
 fore you condemn him." 
 
 The gentleman then looked, and in no small degree 
 was he surprised to see that he was studiously attempt- 
 ing to solve a geometrical problem. His natural bent 
 thus becoming evident, his father encouraged it by 
 providing him with a set of tools ; and he showed liis 
 comprehension of the uses to which they might be put 
 by forming several childish toys, and among others, 
 an electrical machine. 
 
 His mother's relations resided in Glasgow, and there 
 he frequently went on a visit, when his ardent love 
 of knowledge and his faculty of learning were matters 
 of considerable astonishment. Doubtless, his rich 
 and enthusiastic conversation enlivened some of the 
 extraordinary supper-parties, where the guests of the 
 wealthy but frugal traders, who altogether eschewed 
 the idea of earlier or more extensive entertainments, 
 partook of the evening fare, and indulged in the cold 
 punch, just in such measure as the means or inchna-
 
 342 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 tion of the host permitted or prompted. At all events, 
 it appears that he had no objection to steal a few hoxirs 
 from the night when he could find listeners to his vari- 
 ous and interesting stories and enlivening discourse. 
 
 On one occasion he was cliidden by his aunt for 
 continuing to take off' and put on the lid of a tea-kettle, 
 holding by turns a cup and a silver spoon over the 
 steam, watchmg its rise from the spout, and catching 
 and counting the drops of water formed by condensa- 
 tion. So early was his active mind engaged in inves- 
 tigating the "condensation of steam." 
 
 Though he had given considerable attention to sev- 
 eral other subjects, mechanics was his favorite study ; 
 and in conformity with his own wish he was, at the 
 age of eighteen, indentured to an instrument-maker in 
 Cornhill, London, who employed him chiefly in pre- 
 paring and adjusting sextants, aiid other nautical in- 
 struments. His apjirenticeship was brought to a pre- 
 mature termination by a relapse of bad health, which 
 obliged him to retvuii to the banks of the Clyde. 
 
 Some time after this a visit to Glasgow suggested 
 to his mind the scheme of commencing business there, 
 with the little instruction he had received. But not 
 being qualified by the requisite freedom of craft or 
 guild, he had the mortification of finding that his plan 
 was incapable of being carried into execution. It was 
 vain to plead or remonstrate. The members of the 
 corporate body, principally concerned, were deaf to 
 entreaty. They strenuously adhered to
 
 WATT. 343 
 
 " The good old rule, the simple plan, 
 That they should take who have the power, 
 And they should keep who can ;" 
 
 and sternly refused him permission to open even the 
 very humblest workshop. 
 
 From this rather tantalizing difficulty, the Uni- 
 versity rescued the man destined to increase the re- 
 sources of his country, and add immeasurably to the 
 power of his species, by granting him a room Mathin 
 the building, and appointing him mathematical instru- 
 ment-maker to the college. While in this position he 
 executed some small instruments, which still exist, 
 and exhibit most skillful and dexterous workmanship. 
 His earliest drawings of steam-engines are likewise 
 preserved, and are described as being distinguished by 
 neatness, strength, and accuracy of outline. He en- 
 joyed the favor and intimacy of several celebrated 
 men, who were then professors in the University ; 
 among whom were Adam Smith, Professor Simson, 
 and Dr. Black, whose discoveries in heat aided him 
 much in his inventions. Moreover, his workshop was 
 the resort of all such students as interested themselves 
 in scientific matters. Indeed, they are said to have 
 consulted him as an authority almost conclusive, when 
 any difficulty presented itself which baffled their 
 knowledge ; and Watt never allowed his course to be 
 barred by any obstacle that could possibly be over- 
 come by resolute efforts of intellect, and a determined 
 application of industry. He studied anatomy, chem-
 
 344 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 istry, and natural philosophy, and occupied many a 
 leisure hour with inquiries into the nature of steam. 
 Though unacquainted with the mysteries cf music, he 
 undertook the construction of an organ, and, by dint 
 of perseverance, furnished an instrument exhibiting 
 many improvements, and capable of dehghting the 
 most fastidious performers. And aU this time his 
 daily devotion to his business was most exemplary, 
 and quite uninterrupted by his reading or speculations, 
 which were pursued in hours not taken up with the 
 labors of his craft. The pruiciple upon which he 
 then acted in this respect guided him throughout life. 
 Before he reached the age of twenty-four. Watt's 
 attention had been attracted to the employment of 
 steam as a mechanical agent. His friend, Mr. K.ob- 
 ison — afterward Professor at Glasgow and Edinburgh 
 — had suggested its application to wheeled carriages, 
 and they made experiments together. Watt doubtless 
 thought much, and submitted the question to close, 
 earnest, and vigilant study. But it was not till 1763 
 that his abilities were practically applied to the dis- 
 covery, which has associated his name inseparably 
 with the progress of the world. At that period the 
 model of an engine was sent to him to be repaired by 
 the Professor of the Natural Philosophy class ; and on 
 his examining it with care and attention, aU the im- 
 pressions which he had conceived as to the imperfec- 
 tions of the atmospheric machine were at once renewed 
 in his mind. He therefore devoted himself to its
 
 WATT. 345 
 
 improvement with diligence and determination. He 
 soon perceived that the rapidity with which water 
 evaporates depends simply on the degree of heat that 
 is imbibed, and that the latter circumstance is in pro- 
 portion to the vessel's surface containing the water. 
 He likewise arrived by experiment at a knowledge as 
 to the coals requisite for the evaporation of any given 
 quantity of water, the heat at which it boils under 
 various pressures, and several other points never be- 
 fore ascertamed with accuracy. Bringing his genius 
 to bear on the matter, he proceeded to attempt reme- 
 dies for the two chief defects of Newcomen's engine — 
 the necessity of cooling the cylinder before each stroke 
 of the piston by the injection of water, and the non- 
 employment of the engine as a moving power of the 
 expansive force of the steam. 
 
 Having overcome the first defects by a process 
 which saved three fourths of the fuel required to feed 
 the engine, and at the same time added considerably 
 to its power, Watt was gradually conducted to an 
 improvement which effectually removed the second 
 imperfection ; and thus he effected the fundamental 
 amendments in the engine, that, as has been remarked, 
 it appears a thing almost endowed with intelligence. 
 
 Having progressed thus far in his object. Watt had 
 a difficulty of a very formidable character to surmount ; 
 namely, that of bringing his discoveries into public 
 notice, -wathout any considerable means of his own at 
 command. Moreover he !;ad to contend with the
 
 346 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 opposition of such persons as conceived their interests 
 to be at stake. However, he had just provided him- 
 self with a witty, cheerful, and accomplished wife, 
 and thus furnished an additional spur to exertion. In 
 this emergency he applied to an early friend. Dr. K-oe- 
 buck, who had just founded the Carron Iron Works, 
 to advance the requisite capital, which was agreed to 
 on condition of the profits being shared. A patent 
 was accordingly obtained, and an engine ei'ected ; but 
 Roebuck soon after meeting with reverses in his daring 
 speculations, the sagacious inventor was under the 
 necessity of establishing himself in Glasgow as a civil 
 engineer, and as such obtained high reputation in lur- 
 uishing surveys and estimates lor canals, and other pub- 
 lic operations, of which Scotland was then the scene. 
 At length, in the year 1774, he accepted the pro- 
 posal of Mr. Boulton, a celebrated hardware manu- 
 facturer in BiriTiingham, that he should remove thither, 
 and enter into partnership on equitable terms. An 
 extension of the patent v/as forthwith obtained for 
 twenty-five years from that date ; and Watt's genius 
 having now a field, entered on its career of public tri- 
 umph. Though he shared the fate of most inventors 
 in being perpetually involved in lawsuits, he succeeded 
 in realizing an ample fortune. His scientific achieve- 
 ments were duly appreciated by those who were quali- 
 fied to judge of their merits; and in 1785 he was 
 elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, being subse- 
 quently chosen one of the eight Foreign Associates of
 
 WATT. 347 
 
 the French Institute. The University of Glasgow, 
 which had first befriended him, conferred the honorary 
 degree of LL.D. in 1806. 
 
 Near the end of his hfe he engaged in the construc- 
 tion of a machine for copying pieces of statuary and 
 sculpture. His friends claim for him the distinction 
 of having discovered the composition of water. 
 
 This illustrious mechanist passed the last years of 
 his long and memorable life in the society of his family 
 and friends. He died August 25, 1819, in his eighty- 
 fourth year, and was buried in the church of Hands- 
 worth, near Heathfield, his residence in Stalibrdshire. 
 
 A monument to his memory, graven by the hand 
 of Chantrey, was erected in Westminster Abbey, and 
 on it was placed this inscription by Lord Brougham : 
 
 Not to perpetuate a name 
 
 Which must endure while the peaceful arts flourish, 
 
 But to show 
 
 That mankind have learned to honor those 
 
 Who best deserved their gratitude, 
 
 The King, 
 
 His Ministers, and many of the Nobles 
 
 And Commoners of the Realm, 
 
 Raised this Monument to 
 
 .Tames Watt, 
 
 Who, directing the force of an original genius, early 
 
 exercised in philosophical research, to the 
 
 improvement of the 
 
 Steam-engine. 
 
 Enlarged the resources of his country. 
 
 Increased the power of man, 
 
 And rose to an eminent place among the illustrious 
 
 followers of Science, 
 
 And the real benefactors of the world.
 
 ADAM SMITH. 
 
 If there are " suppressed characters" in hterary 
 and scientific, as well as in parliamentary history, the 
 great apostle of political economy is certainly not of 
 the number. Indeed, the posthumous glory he has 
 derived from his most celebrated work, goes far to 
 justify Southey's enthusiastic preference of the fame 
 arising from authorship over all others. After the 
 lapse of a century, his name is still familiar in the 
 mouths of men, and still continues to gather fresh fame 
 as it flies along the stream of time. The maxims of 
 policy which he taught are now inseparably associated 
 with the recoUectioir of a long controversy, a memora- 
 ble struggle, and a triumph under extraordinary cir- 
 cumstances. But without venturing to expatiate on 
 the latter somewhat exciting topics, it may be possible 
 to furnish a sketch of the learned Doctor's earthly ca- 
 reer, noil altogether uninteresting to youths accustomed 
 to " mark, learn, and inwardly digest." 
 
 The father of this famous professor of political sci- 
 ence had originally practiced in Edinburgh as a writer 
 to the signet ; for so an attorney is there styled. He 
 had afterward become private secretary to the Earl 
 of Loudon, who held the now abolished office of Sec-
 
 ADAM SMITH. 349 
 
 retary of State for Scotland ; and when his lordship's 
 career in that capacity terminated, the elder Smith 
 was appointed Comptroller of the Customs at Kirkaldy, 
 a small Fifeshire town, situated on the Frith of Forth. 
 Removing thither to fulfill the duties of the ofRce, and 
 perhaps finding himself more solitary in his new sphere 
 than he had been in the capital, he married a very 
 amiable and afTectionate woman, bearing the " con- 
 quering name" of Douglas. He was not, how'ever, 
 spared to see the son whose achievements have saved 
 his memory from oblivion, for, somewhere about the 
 beginning of 1723, he departed this life ; and a few 
 months later, on the 5th of June, the birth of Adam 
 Smith took place. 
 
 The future economist had not, in infancy, the ad- 
 vantage of such strong health as enables children to 
 frisk, and riot, and tumble about without danger. It 
 required all the care and attention which a widowed 
 and disconsolate mother generally bestows upon an 
 only son, to sustain his weakly and delicate constitu- 
 tion against the perils which beset beings in that im- 
 mature season of earthly existence ; and she executed 
 her task with so much real tenderness and solicitude, 
 as to have been charged with the venial fault of too 
 readily gratifying his wliims and humors. Unbound- 
 ed indulgence toward a child is certainly highly im- 
 prudent ; but it does not appear that it either spoiled 
 Smith, or produced in his case any other evil conse- 
 quences.
 
 350 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 Another, and a more substantial kind oi' danger, 
 he is related to have been on one occasion exposed to. 
 The tribes of gipsies, who then infested the country, 
 carried on a most indiscriminate system of plunder. 
 Nothing came amiss to them that was not too hot or 
 too heavy ; and they not only anticipated the doctrine 
 of buying in the cheapest and selling in the dearest 
 markets, but acted on it to an extent which would 
 make teachers of economy " stare and gasp" with sur- 
 prise and horror. They seem to have loved the trade 
 of pillage, "not wisely, but too well;" for, though it 
 is not difficult to understand their motive in appro- 
 priating the pigs, poultry, and game of the district, 
 periodically favored with their portentous presence, it 
 is certainly not so easy to imagine what advantage 
 they found in carrying ofi', and burdening themselves 
 with, their neighbors' children. But, whatever their 
 views in this predatory system, the little boy destined 
 to become the author of the " Wealth of Nations," 
 narrowly escaped their clutches. When he was three 
 years old, his fond mother carried him on a visit to 
 the family of her brother, who resided at Strathenry ; 
 and one day, while there, he was playing noiselessly 
 about the door of the house, when up came a gang 
 of gipsies. The sight of a child, thus alone and help- 
 less, was a temptation not to be resisted ; and the 
 scene may readily be fancied. Some tall prophetess, 
 whom Sir Roger de Coverley would have called " a 
 baggage," dressed in a long, faded, red cloak, would
 
 ADAM SMITH. 351 
 
 separate lierselt' from the troop, and, after luruing 
 and carefully glancing round on all sides to ascertain 
 that she was safe from the eyes of fair-haired Chris- 
 tians, insure the fatal silence of her tiny victim, by 
 placing in his hand a rosy-cheeked apple. Then, 
 stealthily lifting him up, she would with cunning 
 caresses deposit his slight form beneath her cloak, and 
 hastily rejoin her comrades. And now there was 
 every probability of Smith being brought up to a life 
 of theft and vagi-ancy, passing his nights in plunder- 
 ing hen-roosts and breaking game preserves, or seated 
 by some watch-fire blazing within a circle of stones, 
 and uttering " uncouth gibberish" to damsels, whose 
 dusky brows seemed to tell of their Eastern origin, 
 and whose " white teeth and black eyes" might well, 
 indeed, excite the admiration of that susceptible old 
 knight so finely portrayed by the pen of Addison. 
 Fortunately, however, he was soon missed ; and the 
 alarm that he had been kidnapped was sounded in 
 time to give his uncle the opportunity of being, ac- 
 cording to Dugald Stewart, the happy mstrument of 
 preserving to the world a genius which was destined 
 not only to extend the boundaries of science, but to 
 enlighten and reforai the commercial policy of Europe. 
 The stout kinsman would, doubtless, run quickly to 
 the stable, saddle his mettled steed, and throw him- 
 self on its back. Then, setting out in pursuit, he 
 speedily came up to the migratory band, who, feeling 
 quite secure, had encamped in Leshe Wood. He joy-
 
 352 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 fully rescued the terrified child from their keeping, 
 and hurrying back, restored him in safety to his weep- 
 ing and agitated parent. 
 
 At a proper age after this adventure, Master Adam, 
 still the pride and delight of his mother's eye, was 
 placed in the parish school of Kirkaldy, which at the 
 time was, luckily for him, taught by a man of consid- 
 erable ability and repute. The youth took kindly to 
 his book. His delicate health rendered him unfit, or, 
 at all events, averse to playing any active part in the 
 games and pastimes of his class-fellows. He avoided 
 the field or the market-place, where his rough and 
 hardy compeers, caring not a jot for sun or dust, ex- 
 ercised their limbs at golf, or urged the flying ball, 
 sometimes to the destraction of windows ; and he en- 
 gaged not in those puerile displays of strength and 
 skill, out of which the pugnacious and aspiring imps, 
 not seldom, came with livid faces and bloody snouts. 
 Instead of boisterous mirth, he loved quiet retirement ; 
 and while the others were taking part in mischievous 
 freaks and diversions he was reading, and laying the 
 foundation of the peculiar habits of self communion 
 which distinguished his subsequent career. His mem- 
 ory was tenacious, and he rapidly stored up infonna- 
 tion to be used when the proper time arrived. When 
 in company, he, even at this date, displayed those 
 peculiarities which afterward characterized him. He 
 was generally absent and inattentive to the conversa- 
 tion going on ; the motion of his lips could be ob-
 
 ADAM SMITH. 353 
 
 served as he muttered to himself; and his mamiers 
 were artless and simple in the extreme. 
 
 At the age of fifteen, Adam climbed to the top of 
 a coach, and was sent to be entered at the University 
 of (jlasgow. While there, he manifested great par- 
 tiality for mathematics, the chair of which was then 
 filled by the celebrated Professor Simson, the restorer 
 of Euclid ; his other bias being toward natural phi- 
 losophy. He remained m the city on the Clyde for 
 three years, and subsequently acknowledged infinite 
 obligations to the institution. Luckily for Smith, and 
 several other eminent men who have since flourished, 
 a person of the name of Snell had, in the year of the 
 Revolution, bequeathed an estate in the county of 
 Warwick for the support, at Balliol College, Oxford, 
 of Scottish youths, who have, for a certain period, 
 been students at Glasgow, in whose professorial body 
 the patronage is vested. Smith was selected as one 
 of the exhibitioners on this foundation, and repaired 
 to Oxford, Avith the prospect, as his relatives believed, 
 of appearing ere long as a divine of note and reputa- 
 tion. He did not in after life confess to having owed 
 much to the seat of learning to which — thanks to old 
 Snell's laudable liberality — he had thus been admit- 
 ted ; but it must be taken into account that Scotch- 
 men of his generation, however reflecting, were vio- 
 lently, and perhaps excusably, prejudiced iu regard to 
 much of what they witnessed iu a country so much 
 wealthier than their own. In any case, the philoso- 
 Z
 
 354 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 phic Fifeshire lad luxuriated in his favorite subjects 
 and speculations in private ; and was equally assiduous 
 and successful in his study of languages, both ancient 
 and modern. He became intimately acquainted with 
 the poetry, and gained a knowledge of and mastery 
 over the language, of England, which more than 
 counteracted the effects of his Northern education. 
 In his efibrts to acquire the art of composing with 
 ease, freedom, and elegance, he translated much from 
 foreign models, particularly from the French ; and 
 this method he ever recommended to those who as- 
 pired to accomplish themselves, or to improve their 
 style in the structure and forrriation of sentences. 
 During his residence at Oxford his secret studies unfor- 
 tunately provoked the suspicion of his academic supe- 
 riors, who thought fit to pay an inquisitorial visit to 
 his chamber. They found him engaged in an mtel- 
 lectual banquet on Hume's " Ti'eatise of Human Na- 
 ture," then recently published, and considered some- 
 what dangerous fare. This they seized, proving at 
 the same time their respect for the principle of " reci- 
 procity" by bestowing upon him a severe reprimand 
 in exchange. Whatever his chances of ecclesiastical 
 preferment, and however great the anxiety of his friends 
 that he should take orders, they were wrecked and 
 defeated by his opposition to the long-cherished scheme. 
 He, contrary to the wishes of his relatives, totally 
 abandoned the idea of a clerical career, left the classic 
 precincts of Oxford l^nivevsity, and resided with his
 
 ADAM SMITH. 355 
 
 mother for the next two years, without doing any thing 
 in particular or fixing upon any plan of life. 
 
 The intellectual faculties of Smith were at this sea- 
 son in almost as great peril of being lost to the world 
 as when he had been caiTied by gipsies into the re- 
 cesses of Leshe Wood. The crisis of his fate had ar- 
 rived, and while pondering in his solitary chamber, or 
 subjected to embarrassing questions at Kiikaldy tea- 
 parties, he must often have mused, with concern, over 
 the magnitude of the sacrifice he had made in rehn- 
 quishing the course which had been chalked out for 
 him. It M^as really one of no trifling character, for 
 the circumstances of his native land, never very favor- 
 able, were then such as to render it in the last degree 
 diflScult for youths, even of the most respectable parent- 
 age, to discover a career worthy of being followed. A 
 chivalrous writer of this generation, in his zealous de- 
 fense of a new school of artists, apparently flushed 
 with triumph, and under the impression, not only that 
 things are sadly out of joint, but that he was born to set 
 them right, travels out of his way to suggest a new school 
 of philanthropists, and recommends some half-dozen 
 thorough-bred gentlemen to take to the green-grocery 
 trade or some other of the kind, just to show that 
 there is nothing dishonorable in such occupations, and 
 thus regenerate society. The sagacious Scots of another 
 day seem to have, to a considerable extent, anticipated 
 that counsel, though without pretending that they 
 were thereby entitling themselves to the credit of any
 
 356 FOOTPRINTS OP^ FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 very sublime or beneficent self-sacrifice. Smith's friend, 
 the romantic author of " Douglas," whom Nature 
 seems to have designed for a knight-errant, was some- 
 what unreasonable in his complaint — 
 
 " Sprung from the haughty nobles of the land. 
 Upon the ladder'.s lowest round I stand ;'' 
 
 for hundreds of the younger sons of ancient and honor- 
 able families were glad if they could, without having 
 their gentility openly impeached, gain a livelihood as 
 merchants in the provinces, or even as tradesmen in 
 the Canongate. Nor was it on younger sons only that 
 Fortune bestowed such merciless kicks. Caledonian 
 noblemen of long pedigrees, high names, and sounding 
 titles, were found in situations aught but dignified. 
 One peer kept a glove shop in Cornhill. Another, 
 still less fortunate, employed each day in contriving 
 how he was to fall in with a dinner. A third, on be- 
 ing arrested, was so dirty in his person, and so shabby 
 in his dress, that the officer of justice stubbornly re- 
 fused to credit the possibility of his being a man oi' 
 rank. Even " females of quality" were not exempt 
 from the miseries of the period ; for one Scottish bar- 
 oness was hostess of a tavern whose character was not 
 the highest, and pleaded the privilege of her order 
 when sued for keeping a disorderly house. What 
 prospect was there m a state of society thus overcast 
 for a youth, whom his plebeian name would all but 
 disqualify for the position of a traveling tutor, and 
 ^\•hom absorption in mtellectual contemplation rendered
 
 ADAM SMITH. W 
 
 Utterly unfit to figure as a man of business? \Te 
 shall soon see. 
 
 Among the cadets of patrician houses who in the 
 Scottish capital had sought a way of escape from the 
 horrors which attend the union of pride and poverty, 
 none had struggled with greater perseverance and suc- 
 cess than that very distant kinsman, but close friend, 
 of the great philosophic historian of England, since 
 known to fame as Lord Kames. Having been edu- 
 cated by a tutor under the roof of his father, a Border 
 gentleman of Jocobite leanings, and studied law at 
 the University of Edinburgh, he was placed as ap- 
 prentice in the office of a writer. But feeling, like 
 Lord Mansfield, a real calling for the bar, he deserted 
 the attorney's desk before completing the terra agreed 
 on, and not only distinguished himself in his profes- 
 sional exhibitions, but by his deep learning and acute 
 genius won a very extensive reputation as an author 
 on various subjects. Smith had the advantage of 
 being appreciated by this eminent jurist, philosopher, 
 and agriculturist ; and he prudently availed himself 
 of the circumstance. Li 1748, the Economist came 
 forth under his patronage to lecture, in the Scottish 
 metropolis, on rhetoric and the belles lettres, the pro- 
 fessorship for which had not then been founded. This 
 Smith continued to do for two years, at the end of which 
 he was sufficiently recognized as a man of talent and 
 erudition to be elected to the Logic Chair in the Uni- 
 versity of Glasgow, where he discharged the duties with
 
 358 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 much ability. He departed widely from the course that 
 had been pursued by his predecessors, and directed the 
 minds of the students to subjects of a more useful and 
 interesting nature than they had been accustomed to. 
 Smith was now, indeed, in a position which was 
 favorable to the proper display of his extraordinary 
 powers ; and within twelve months of his election he 
 had the good fortune to he nominated and chosen as 
 Professor of Moral Philosophy. Such he continued 
 for the next thirteen years, which, when they had 
 long passed, he was in the habit of looking back on 
 with a feeling somewhat resembling regret, as they 
 had formed the happiest and most agreeable period 
 of his existence. His public lectures, though delivered 
 in a plain and unaffected manner, were always dis- 
 tinguished and rendered interesting by a luminous di- 
 vision of the subject, as well as by full, fresh and vari- 
 ous illustration. They soon began to excite interest, 
 and were attended no less for pleasure than instruc- 
 tion. The commercial community was agitated by a 
 spirit of inquiry ; the learned professor's name rapidly 
 spread ; and young men from all parts of the country 
 were attracted to the College with a view of profiting 
 by them. The science, from the novel method in 
 which it was treated, became popular ; and Adam 
 was so much admired in his capacity of lecturer, that, 
 as in the days of Hotspur, 
 
 " The speaking thick which Nature made his blemish 
 Became the accents of the vahant ;"
 
 ADAM SMITH. 359 
 
 so the students of moral philosophy admiringly exerted 
 themselves to imitate their professor's peculiarities in 
 proiumciatiou and manner of address. 
 
 At this period the men of letters in the Scottish cap- 
 ital projected and commenced the first " Edinburgh 
 Review ;" and Smith, besides contributing an article 
 on Dr. Johnson's " Dictionary," addressed a letter to 
 the editors, containing observations on the state of 
 literature in the different countries of Europe. • This 
 etibrt at the establishment of a great Northern peri- 
 odical proved premature, and it was reserved for an- 
 other generation of " modern Athenians" to realize 
 such a scheme. After two numbers the journal spread 
 its M'ings no more, and the copies are now remarkably 
 rare. 
 
 Fortune smiled more bountifully on the scientific 
 Professor when he sallied forth into the literary field, 
 single-handed, and under his own pennon. In 1759 
 he boldly challenged criticism with his " Theory of 
 Moral Sentiments," which soon attracted public at- 
 tention, and won no slight applause. His friends, 
 David Hume and Wedderburn, afterward Lord Chan- 
 cellor Loughborough, lent their aid to spread the repu- 
 tation of the book in London ; and the historian soon 
 had the happiness of transmitting to the author flat- 
 tering accounts of its reception. Among others who 
 were captivated with the performance was Charles 
 To^vnsend, then regarded as " the cleverest fellow in 
 England," and subsequently immortalized in one of
 
 360 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 Burke's most marvelous parliamentary speeches " as 
 the delight and ornament of the House, and the charm 
 of every private society he honored with his presence." 
 He had already become connected with Scotland by 
 "wedding a dowager of high rank, and vindicated his 
 elaims to respect as lier consort in a very amusing 
 way. On accompanying his titled bride to her resi- 
 dence in " the land of mountain and of flood," the 
 relatives and dependants of the lady, in their eager- 
 ness to do her full honor, seemed rather inchned to 
 forget that a welcome was due to the brilhant and 
 ambitious husband. "For God's sake, gentlemen," 
 exclaimed the prodigy, who could hit the House of 
 Commons between wind and water, " remember that 
 I am at least Prince George of Denmark !" He now 
 declared that he would exercise the privilege of a 
 step-father, and put the boy-Duke of Buccleuch under 
 Smith's tuition. Hume wished to settle the matter 
 at once by having the noble cub sent to Glasgow, but 
 a different course was adopted. ToviTisend was some- 
 what uncertain in his resolutions, and four years were 
 allowed to elapse before the necessary arrangements 
 were made. Then Smith received a formal invitation 
 to attend the young duke on his travels ; and setting 
 out, they arrived at Paris in the beginning of 17G4. 
 
 Hume, whose ancient blood would naturally boil 
 at the recollection of the indignities he had suffered 
 while, for a brief period, enacting the part of keeper 
 to an insane marquis, had been clearly of opinion
 
 ADAM SMITH. 361 
 
 that no terms offered bj^ Townsend would iiaduce Dr. 
 Smith to renounce his professorship. He was mis- 
 taken. The latter considered that his new position 
 afforded him an opportunity of observing the internal 
 policy of Continental states, and thus completing the 
 system of political economy which his brain was oc- 
 cupied in thinking out. On arriving in Paris, he im- 
 mediately addressed to the Rector of the University 
 a letter announcing his resignation. It was accepted 
 by the professorial body with regret ; a meeting was 
 convened ; a fitting tribute was paid to his genius, 
 ability, and learning ; and honorable testimony was 
 borne to the high probity and amiable qualities which 
 had secured their possessor lasting esteem among his 
 colleagues. Meantime Smith and his pupil, having 
 remained a fortnight in Paris, proceeded to Toulouse, 
 and there fixed their residence for eighteen months, 
 during which the Doctor formed intimacies with sev- 
 eral men of distinction, and made himself acquainted 
 with the internal policy of the kingdom. They then 
 visited several places in the South of France, resided 
 for a while at Geneva, and then retraced their steps 
 to the borders of the Seine. There Smith counted 
 among his associates many of the chief men of letters 
 and science, among whom were several of the politi- 
 cal philosophers known as Economists. The accred- 
 ited founder of that sect was the celebrated Gtuesnai, 
 though he had been preceded by the profound and 
 acute Galiani. Harris and Hume had likewise done
 
 362 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 much to popularize the doctrines. But Smith, whose 
 attention had already been occupied with the subject 
 for the space of ten years, was the first to see the 
 whole bearing of their principles, and to trace their 
 consequences with care, and face them with confidence. 
 When Smith set foot on his native soil, in the au- 
 tumn of 1766, he did not return to the scene of his 
 former triumphs, but consigned himself to studious 
 and laborious retirement under the roof of his worthy 
 mother. Old friends urged him to come within their 
 reach, and give them the benefit of his company ; 
 but his strong ambition to produce a great and influ- 
 ential work, " like Aaron's rod swallowed up the rest," 
 and he was content to pursue his object in obscurity. 
 He was in comfortable circumstances, as the Duke of 
 Buccleuch had, in consideration of his tuition, settled 
 on him an income of three hundred pounds a year, 
 and in other respects he was not unprepared for the 
 mighty task. His long residence in a commercial 
 town, his foreign experience, and his intercourse with 
 the French economists and statesmen, had trained his 
 philosophic mind for the investigation of the subjects 
 on which he aspired to throw a new and enduring 
 light. When employed in preparing for the press, he 
 generally walked up and down the room dictating to 
 an amanuensis, and he is said to have composed with 
 as much slowness and difficulty in his later years as 
 in youth. The " Inquiry into the Nature and Causes 
 of the Wealth of Nations" did not make its appear-
 
 ADAM SMITH. 3C.i 
 
 Alice in public till the spring of 1766. It was found 
 to consist of five books. The two first contain the 
 scientific portion. The third is a historical sketch of 
 the progress of opulence. The fourth, the longest, 
 treats of the legislative interference by which govern- 
 ments have attempted to make their subjects rich, and 
 endeavors to show that all such schemes retard instead 
 of promoting the object in view. The fifth, which 
 points out the means by which the duties of sovereigns 
 may be best performed, and how a public revenue may 
 be most judiciously provided, is in reality a treatise on 
 the art of government. This work, so important in 
 its results, saw the light just six months before David 
 Hume was laid in his lonesome grave, and he imme- 
 diately wrote — " It has depth, and solidity, and acute- 
 ness, and is so much illustrated by curious facts that 
 
 it must, at last, take the public attention If 
 
 you were here, at my fireside, I should dispute some 
 of your principles ; but these, and a hundred other 
 points, are fit only to be discussed in conversation." 
 Gibbon, likewise, mentioned it with praise in his im- 
 mortal History ; and Fox lent his aid to increase its 
 fame by saying in that House, where the author's 
 name has since been familiar as a household word, 
 and unquestionably too often used by others than par- 
 liamentary giants — " The way, as my learned friend 
 Dr. Adam Smith states, for a nation, as well as an 
 uidividual, to be rich, is for both to live within 
 their income." It is admitted, however, thfl+ the
 
 364 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 doctrines enunciated made less impression on the minds 
 of" Fox and his alhes, than on that of the young and 
 disdainful minister who, toward the close of the cen- 
 tury, had to stand the brunt of their impassioned elo- 
 quence. Johnson, whose love for Smith was not ex- 
 cessive, interposed his ponderous influence to shield 
 him from Sir John Pringle's diverting allegation — 
 that Smith, not being practically conversant with 
 trade, could not be qualified to M^rite on matters relat- 
 ing to it. " That is quite a mistake," said the sage, 
 indignantly : "a man who has never been in trade 
 may write well on trade ; and there is nothing M^iich 
 requires more to be illustrated by philosophy than 
 trade does. As to mere wealth, that is to say money, 
 it is clear that one nation, or one individual, can not 
 increase its store but by making another poorer ; but 
 trade procures what is more valuable, the reciproca- 
 tion of the peculiar advantages of difTerent countries. 
 A merchant seldom thinks of any but his own trade. 
 To write a good book upon it, a man must have ex- 
 tensive views. It is not necessary to have practiced, 
 to write well upon, a subject." 
 
 During the two years following his greatest publi- 
 cation Dr. Smith resided in London, and spent much 
 of his time in that " bright constellation of British 
 stars," forming the club without a name, which Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds had founded. But in 1778 he was 
 appointed one of the Commissioners of Customs i" 
 Scotland, and removed to Edinburgh to attend to the
 
 ADAM SMITH. 365 
 
 duties attached to the office, which, though they re- 
 quired httle exertion, were sufficient to divert his atten- 
 tion from Uterary undertakings. His mother, now an 
 extremely aged woman, came to hve with him ; as 
 did- also Miss Douglas, an elderly cousin, who had 
 formerly superintended his domestic arrangements at 
 Glasgow. He had collected a valuable library, and 
 being apparently of Horace's way of thinking, in re- 
 gard to there being no splendor in money unless it 
 shines in a temperate expenditure, he was generous 
 in his gifts and hospitable in his manner of living. 
 He soon began to feel some of the infirmities of age, 
 but his health and strength did not give way till 
 the death of his female relatives, when he was left in 
 a position somewhat more solitary than he relished, 
 and he became still more engrossed with his medita- 
 tions. 
 
 Kay's series of portraits and caricature etchings 
 enable the curious inquirer not only to have before 
 him the style of dress and appearance of the author 
 of the " Wealth of Nations" at this period, but even 
 to form a tolerably accurate conception of what a 
 day with him must have ordinarily been. One seems 
 to see him, as he is prepared after breakfast to set out 
 for the Custom House, standing before the table, with 
 his cane in one hand, and the other on some page of 
 his latest work, which lies open before him. He de- 
 scends the stair, and issifes slowly into the street, mut- 
 tering to himself, and indulging in a laugh, which
 
 366 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 must be very favorable to the digestion of his morn- 
 ing meal. And what can it be that excites his risi- 
 bility ? Is he chuckling over the solution of some 
 knotty problem in political science, or does the manly 
 and dignified figure of his acquaintance, Lord Rock- 
 ville, in the distance, recall to his memory the never- 
 ending joke about the Grassmarket pavement, having 
 one evening most suddenly risen up and struck that 
 urbane and polished legal sage in the face ? These two 
 fishwomen, whom he meets, look as if they had some 
 notion ; but no, by St. Bride I the weather-beaten 
 jades really mistake the philosopher for a lunatic, and 
 express their surprise that he is not in custody. He 
 neither sees nor hears them, however, but continues to 
 laugh and soliloquize. 
 
 " Heigh, sirs ! isn't that waesome ?" ejaculates one, 
 as she shakes her head and becomes mute from very 
 pity. 
 
 " And he's so well put on, too !" observed the other, 
 with a sigh, as she marked his careful attire, from the 
 cocked hat and flowing wig to the ruffles at his wrists 
 and the buckles on his shoes. Our venerable hero now 
 approaches the Custom House, and as he reaches the 
 door, the gigantic porter, who keeps guard, salutes 
 him with ceremonious formality. But what is the 
 Economist about now ? Exercising his muscles, or 
 teaching the big janitor sword exercise ? Not at all. 
 He is only, with»the most complete imconsciousness 
 of doing any thing of the kind, imitating with his gold-
 
 ADAM SMITH. 367 
 
 headed caue every flourish that the man has made, 
 before entering the building where the Board is sitting 
 for the transaction of business connected with the col- 
 lection of the revenue. He exchanges courteous salu- 
 tations with his colleagues, among whom are a tall, 
 stately scion of the noble house of Cochrane, and 
 Capt. Edgar, a gentleman of eccentric habits, but a 
 thorough man of the world, and valued by the Doctor, 
 because, being rather out of place at a Customs' Board, 
 and luckily an excellent classical scholar, he is quite 
 ready to devote the official hours to the task of amus- 
 ing the philosopher. Accordingly, this personage, 
 celebrated in verse as the haiu dmeiir, and Dr. Smith, 
 renowned for having taught the world how nations 
 are bound together by the reciprocal benefits of com- 
 merce, occupy their time with the recitation of pas- 
 sages from the Greek authors. Then a paper bearing 
 the signature of one of the Commissioners is handed 
 to the Economist, but instead of appending his own 
 name, he copies that of the person who has already 
 signed it. He now rises and sallies forth to indulge 
 in a quiet walk about the Meadows, a fashionable 
 place of resort ; and after dining, he repairs to the 
 "Poker Club," to spend the remainder of his waking 
 hours in the company of Black, and Hutton, and John 
 Home. 
 
 Now and then Dr. Smith paid a visit to London. 
 On the last occasion of his being in the metropolis he 
 had been engaged to dine with tall Harry Duudas,
 
 368 FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. 
 
 afterward Lord Melville, then the real " Cock of the 
 North." He happened to arrive too late, and the 
 guests, among whom were Pitt, Grenville, and Adding- 
 ton, had taken their places at table ; but on his en- 
 trance, they, with one accord, rose to receive him. 
 The Doctor offered an apology for being so late, and 
 begged them to resume their seats ; but they said, 
 " No, we'll stand till you are seated, for we are all your 
 scholars." 
 
 In the year 1787 the veteran philosopher was elected 
 Rector of Glasgow University. He was touched by 
 the comphment, and in acknowledging it, stated that 
 no preferment could have given him so much real 
 satisfaction, because the term of years, during which 
 he had been a member of the Society, had formed by 
 far the most useful, and therefore the happiest and 
 most honorable, period of the life whose closing scene 
 was now gradually drawing nigh. His last illness 
 was painful and lingering, but in the summer of 1790 
 the angel of death gave no uncertain signals of ap- 
 proach. In accordance with an old Scottish custom, 
 certainly more honored in the breach than the observ- 
 ance, Dr. Smith had been in the habit of inviting his 
 intimate associates to supper on Sundays. This, it 
 should be mentioned, was, at that date, practiced by 
 men whose character for Christian piety was beyond 
 all reproach or question ; and the Economist's adhe- 
 rence to it can not, with any show of reason, be cited 
 in support of the tendency to infidelity, which has
 
 ADAM SMITH. 309 
 
 been, rightly or wrongly, imputed to him. Jt was a 
 July evening when they last assembled, and the gather- 
 ing was, as usual, pretty numerous ; but the host found 
 himself incapable of taking that part which he had so 
 often done ; and feeling himself unable to entertain 
 them, he requested their permission to withdraw. On 
 taking his leave, he said, " Indeed, gentlemen, I be- 
 lieve Ave must adjourn this meeting to some other 
 place."' A few days brought release from his suffer- 
 ings. He had just given orders for the destruction 
 of all his manuscripts, with the exception of some 
 detached essays, which, being left to the care of his 
 executors, were afterward published ; when he breathed 
 his last in a state of complete mental resignation. He 
 was most tenderly sympathized with in his pangs by 
 a circle of sorrowing friends, who ha.d learned fully to 
 appreciate the powers of his intellect, the comprehen- 
 siveness of his views, the extent of hi.? attainments, 
 and the benignity of his disposition. 
 
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