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diff --git a/old/55358-0.txt b/old/55358-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 23bc906..0000000 --- a/old/55358-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8741 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Gallery of Portraits: with Memoirs. Vol -5 (of 7), by Anonymous - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Gallery of Portraits: with Memoirs. Vol 5 (of 7) - -Author: Anonymous - -Release Date: August 15, 2017 [EBook #55358] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALLERY OF PORTRAITS, VOLUME 5 *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing, Chris Curnow and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - _UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE DIFFUSION OF USEFUL - KNOWLEDGE._ - - - - - THE - GALLERY OF PORTRAITS: - WITH - MEMOIRS. - - VOLUME V. - - - LONDON: - CHARLES KNIGHT, 22, LUDGATE-STREET. - - 1835. - - [PRICE ONE GUINEA, BOUND IN CLOTH.] - - - - - LONDON: - PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, - Duke-Street, Lambeth. - - - - - PORTRAITS AND BIOGRAPHIES - CONTAINED IN THIS VOLUME. - - - Page. - - 1. Taylor 1 - - 2. Lavoisier 9 - - 3. Sydenham 18 - - 4. Clarendon 25 - - 5. Reynolds 35 - - 6. Swift 45 - - 7. Locke 53 - - 8. Selden 61 - - 9. Paré 69 - - 10. Blake 77 - - 11. L’Hôpital 85 - - 12. Mrs. Siddons 94 - - 13. Herschel 105 - - 14. Romilly 111 - - 15. Shakspeare 122 - - 16. Euler 129 - - 17. Sir W. Jones 134 - - 18. Rousseau 143 - - 19. Harrison 153 - - 20. Montaigne 157 - - 21. Pope 164 - - 22. Bolivar 173 - - 23. Arkwright 181 - - 24. Cowper 189 - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. Holl._ - - JEREMY TAYLOR. - - _From the original Picture in the Hall of All Souls College, Oxford._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - TAYLOR. - - -If this great ornament of our church did not boast of an exalted -lineage, he numbered among his forefathers one at least, the worthy -ancestor of such a descendant, Dr. Rowland Taylor, chaplain to Cranmer, -and rector of Hadleigh, distinguished among the divines of the -Reformation for his abilities, learning, and piety, as well as for the -courageous cheerfulness with which he suffered death at the stake in the -reign of Queen Mary. Jeremy Taylor was the son of a barber, resident in -Trinity parish, Cambridge; and was baptized in Trinity church, August -15, 1613. He was “grounded in grammar and mathematics” by his father, -and entered as a sizar at Caius College, August 18, 1626. Of his -deportment, his studies, even of the honours and emoluments of his -academical life, we have no certain knowledge. It is stated by Dr. Rust, -in his Funeral Sermon, that Taylor was elected fellow: but this is at -least doubtful, for no record of the fact exists in the registers of the -college. He proceeded to the degree of M. A. in 1633; and in the same -year, though at the early age of twenty, we find him in orders, and -officiating as a divinity lecturer in St. Paul’s Cathedral. His talents -as a preacher attracted the notice of Archbishop Laud, who sent for him -to preach at Lambeth, and approved of his performance, but thought him -too young. Taylor begged his Grace’s pardon for that fault, and promised -that, if he lived, he would mend it. By that prelate’s interest he was -admitted to the degree of M. A. _ad eundem_, in University College, -Oxford, October 20, 1635, and shortly after nominated to a fellowship at -All Souls College. It was probably through the interest of the same -powerful patron that he obtained the rectory of Uppingham in -Rutlandshire, tenable with his fellowship, March 23, 1638. The -fellowship, however, he vacated by his marriage with Phœbe Langsdale, -May 27, 1639, who died in little more than three years, leaving two -sons. - -Taylor attracted notice at Oxford by his talents as a preacher; but he -does not seem to have commenced, during this period of ease and -tranquillity, any of those great works which have rendered him -illustrious as one of the most laborious, eloquent, and persuasive of -British divines. The only sermon extant which we can distinctly refer to -this period, is one preached by command of the Vice-chancellor on the -anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, 1638. This piece requires notice, -because it is connected with a report, circulated both during Taylor’s -residence at Oxford and afterwards, that he was secretly inclined to -Popery. It is even said that he “wished to be confirmed a member of the -church of Rome,” (Wood, Athenæ Oxon.) but was rejected with scorn in -consequence of the things advanced against that church in this sermon. -Of this whole statement Bishop Heber, in his ‘Life of Taylor,’ has -expressed his disbelief; and the arguments on which his opinion is -founded appear to us satisfactory. Not even during his peaceable abode -at Uppingham do Taylor’s great works appear to have been projected, as -if his amiable, affectionate, and zealous temper had been fully occupied -by domestic cares and pleasures, and by the constant though quiet duties -of a parish priest. The year 1642, as it witnessed the overthrow of his -domestic happiness by his wife’s death, saw also the beginning of those -troubles which cast him out of his church preferment, a homeless man. We -do not know the date of the sequestration of his living; but as he -joined Charles I. at Oxford in the autumn of the year; published in the -same year, by the King’s command, his treatise ‘Of the sacred Order and -Offices of Episcopacy, &c.;’ was created D. D. by royal mandate; -appointed chaplain to the King, in which capacity he frequently preached -at Oxford, and attended the royal army in the wars; it is probable that -he was among the first of those who paid the penalty of adhering to the -losing cause. Little is known of this portion of Taylor’s history. It -appears that he quitted the army, and retired into Wales, where he -married, became again involved in the troubles of war, and was taken -prisoner at Cardigan, Feb. 4, 1644. We do not know the date of his -release, or of his marriage to his second wife, Joanna Bridges, a lady -possessed of some landed property at Mandinam, near Golden Grove, in the -Vale of Towy, in Carmarthenshire, who was commonly said to be a natural -daughter of Charles I., born before his marriage. But Heber conjectures -that Taylor’s marriage was anterior to his imprisonment, and that his -wife’s estate was amerced in a heavy fine, in consequence of his being -found engaged in the royal cause at Cardigan. It is at least certain -that until the Restoration he was very poor, and that he supported -himself during part of the time by keeping a school. - -During this period of public confusion and domestic trouble, Taylor -composed an ‘Apology for authorized and set Forms of Liturgy,’ published -in 1646, and his great work, a ‘Discourse on the Liberty of -Prophesying,’ published in 1647, “the first attempt on record to -conciliate the minds of Christians to the reception of a doctrine which, -though now the rule of action professed by all Christian sects, was -then, by all sects alike, regarded as a perilous and portentous -novelty.”[1] As such, it was received with distrust, if not -disapprobation, by all parties; and if it was intended to inculcate upon -the Episcopalians the propriety of conceding something to the prejudices -of their opponents, as well as to procure an alleviation of the -oppression exercised on the Episcopal church, we may see in the conduct -of the government after the Restoration, that Taylor preached a doctrine -for which neither the one nor the other were then ripe. It is the more -to his honour that in this important point of Christian charity he had -advanced beyond his own party, as well as those by whom his party was -then persecuted. But though his views were extended enough to meet with -disapprobation from his contemporaries, he gives a greater latitude to -the civil power in repressing error by penal means, than the general -practice, at least in Protestant countries, would now grant. “The -forbearance which he claims, he claims for those Christians only who -unite in the confession of the Apostles’ Creed,” and he advocates the -drawing together of all who will subscribe to that ancient and -comprehensive form of belief into one church, forgetting differences -which do not involve the fundamental points of Christianity. And he -inculcates the “danger and impropriety of driving men into schism by -multiplying symbols and subscriptions, and contracting the bounds of -communion, and the still greater wickedness of regarding all discrepant -opinions as damnable in the life to come, and in the present capital.” -For a fuller account of this remarkable work, we refer to the Life by -Heber, p. 201–218, or still better, to the original. - -Footnote 1: - - Heber’s Life of Taylor, p. xxvii. - -It was followed at no long interval by the ‘Great Exemplar of Sanctity -and Holy Life, described in the Life and Death of Jesus Christ.’ This, -the first of Taylor’s great works which became extensively popular, is -almost entirely practical in its tendency, having been composed, as the -author tells us, with the intention of drawing men’s minds from -controverted doctrines, to the vital points on which all men are agreed, -but which all men forget so easily. It is not an attempt to connect the -relations of the four Evangelists into one complete and chronologically -consistent account; but a “series of devout meditations on the different -events recorded in the New Testament, as well as on the more remarkable -traditions which have usually been circulated respecting the Divine -Author of our religion, his earthly parent, and his followers,” set off -by that majestic style, that store of illustrations derived from the -most recondite and miscellaneous learning, and, above all, that fervent -and poetical imagination, by which Taylor is distinguished perhaps above -all the prose writers in our language. Such qualities, even without a -digested plan and connected strain of argument, which, requiring a more -continuous and attentive perusal, would not perhaps have made the book -more acceptable or useful to the bulk of readers, ensured for it a -favourable reception; and the author followed up the impression which he -had produced, at no distant period, by two other treatises of a similar -practical tendency, which, from their comparative shortness, are better -known than any other of Taylor’s works, and probably have been as -extensively read as any devotional books in the English language. We -speak of the treatises on Holy Living and on Holy Dying. - -It has been mentioned that near Mandinam stood Golden Grove, the seat of -the Earl of Carbery, a nobleman distinguished by his abilities and zeal -in the Royal cause. He proved a constant and sincere friend to Taylor; -and the grateful scholar has conferred celebrity upon the name and -hospitality of Golden Grove by his ‘Guide to Infant Devotion,’ or manual -of daily prayers, which are called by the name of that place, in which -they, and many other of the author’s works, were meditated; especially -his Eniautos, or course of sermons for all the Sundays in the year. - -Considerable obscurity hangs over this portion of Taylor’s life: but it -appears that in the years 1654–5 he was twice imprisoned, in consequence -of his advocacy of the fallen causes of Episcopacy and Royalty. At some -time in 1654 he formed an acquaintance with Evelyn, which proved -profitable and honourable to both parties; for the layman, as is evident -from his Memoirs and Diary, highly valued and laid to heart the counsels -of the man whom he selected as his “ghostly father,” and to whose -poverty he liberally ministered in return out of his own abundance. - -We learn from Evelyn’s Diary that Taylor was in London in the spring of -1637, and his visits, if not annual, were at least frequent. He made -many friends, and among them the Earl of Conway, a nobleman possessed of -large estates in the north-east of Ireland, who conceived the desire of -securing Taylor’s eminent abilities for the service of his own -neighbourhood, and obtained for him a lectureship in the small town of -Lisburne. Taylor removed his family to Ireland in the summer of 1658. He -dwelt near Portmore, his patron’s splendid seat on the banks of Lough -Neagh; and some of the islands in that noble lake, and in a smaller -neighbouring piece of water called Lough Beg, are still recorded, by the -traditions of the peasantry, to have been his favourite places of study -and retirement. To this abode his letters show him to have been much -attached. - -In the spring of 1660 Taylor visited London, to superintend in its -passage through the press the ‘Rule of Conscience, or Ductor -Dubitantium.’ This, it appears from the author’s letters, was -considerably advanced so early as the year 1655. It was the fruit of -much time, much diligence, and much prayer; and that of all his writings -concerning the execution of which he seems to have felt most anxiety. In -this case, as it often happens, the author seems to have formed an -erroneous estimate of the comparative value of his works. Neither on its -first appearance, nor in later times, did the ‘Ductor Dubitantium’ -become extensively popular. Its object, which even at the first was -accounted obsolete, was to supply what the Romish church obtained by the -practice of confession, a set of rules by which a scrupulous conscience -may be guided in the variety of doubtful points of duty which may occur. -The abuses are well known, to which the casuistic subtlety of the Romish -doctors gave birth; and it may be doubted whether it were wise to lay -one stone towards rebuilding an edifice, which the general diffusion of -the Scriptures, a sufficient rule, if rightly studied, to solve all -doubts, had rendered unnecessary. The work, in spite of its passages of -eloquence and profusion of learning, is too prolix to be a favourite in -these latter days, but it is still, says his biographer, (p. ccxciii.) -one “which few can read without profit, and none, I think, without -entertainment. It resembles in some degree those ancient inlaid -cabinets, (such as Evelyn, Boyle, or Wilkins might have bequeathed to -their descendants,) whose multifarious contents perplex our choice, and -offer to the admiration or curiosity of a more accurate age a vast -wilderness of trifles and varieties with no arrangement at all, or an -arrangement on obsolete principles, but whose ebony drawers and perfumed -recesses contain specimens of every thing that is precious or uncommon, -and many things for which a modern museum might be searched in vain.” - -Taylor’s accidental presence in London at this period, when the hopes of -the Royalists were reviving, was probably serviceable to his future -fortunes. He obtained by it the opportunity of joining in the Royalist -declaration of April 24; and he was among the first to derive benefit -from the restoration of that King and that Church, of whose interests he -had ever been a most zealous, able, and consistent supporter. He was -nominated Bishop of Down and Connor, August 6, 1660, and consecrated in -St. Patrick’s Cathedral January 27, 1661. In the interval he was -appointed Vice-chancellor of the University of Dublin, which during past -troubles had been greatly dilapidated and disordered, in respect both of -its revenues and discipline. He was the principal instrument in -remodelling and completing the statutes, and settling the University in -its present form. - -In the spring of 1661 Taylor was made a member of the Irish Privy -Council, and the small diocese of Dromore, adjacent to Down, was -assigned to his charge, “on account,” in the words of the writ under the -Privy Seal, “of his virtue, wisdom, and industry.” This praise was well -deserved by his conduct in that difficult time, when those who had -displaced the episcopal clergy were apprehensive of being in their turn -obliged to give way, and religious differences were embittered by -thoughts of temporal welfare. Taylor had to deal chiefly with the wilder -and most enthusiastic party, and his advances towards an intercourse of -Christian charity were met with scorn and insult. But his exemplary -conduct, and persevering gentleness of demeanour, did much to soften at -least the laity of his opponents; for we are told that the nobility and -gentry of the three dioceses over which he presided came over, with one -exception, to the Bishop’s side. - -His varied duties can now have left little time for the labour of the -pen; still he published sermons from time to time, and in 1664 completed -and published his last great work, a ‘Dissuasive from Popery,’ -undertaken by desire of the collective body of Irish bishops. He -continued after his elevation to reside principally at Portmore, -occasionally at Lisburne. Of his habits, and the incidents of this -latter part of his life, we know next to nothing; except that he -suffered the severest affliction which could befal a man of his -sensibility and piety, in the successive deaths of his three surviving -sons, and the misconduct of two of them. One died at Lisburne, in March, -1661; one fell in a duel, his adversary also dying of his wounds; the -third became the favourite companion of the profligate Duke of -Buckingham, and died of a decline, August 2, 1667. Of the latter event -the Bishop can scarcely have heard, for he died on the 13th of the same -month, after ten days’ sickness. He was buried at Dromore. Two of his -daughters married in Ireland, into the families of Marsh and Harrison; -and several Irish families of repute claim to be connected with the -blood of this exemplary prelate by the female line. - -The materials for Bishop Taylor’s life are very scanty. The earliest -sketch of it is to be found in the funeral sermon preached by his friend -and successor in the see of Dromore, Dr. Rust, who sums up the virtues -of the deceased in a peroration of highly-wrought panegyric, of which -the following just eulogy is a part—“He was a person of great humility; -and notwithstanding his stupendous parts, and learning, and eminency of -place, he had nothing in him of pride and humour, but was courteous and -affable, and of easy access, and would lend a ready ear to the -complaints, yea, to the impertinence of the meanest persons. His -humility was coupled with an extraordinary piety; and I believe he spent -the greatest part of his time in heaven.... To all his other virtues he -added a large and diffusive charity; and whoever compares his plentiful -income with the inconsiderable estate he left at his death, will be -easily convinced that charity was steward for a great proportion of his -revenue. But the hungry that he fed, and the naked that he clothed, and -the distressed that he supplied, and the fatherless that he provided -for, the poor children that he put to apprentice, and brought up at -school, and maintained at the university, will now sound a trumpet to -that charity which he dispensed with his right hand, but would not -suffer his left hand to have any knowledge of it. - -“To sum up all in a few words, this great prelate had the good humour of -a gentleman, the eloquence of an orator, the fancy of a poet, the -acuteness of a schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, the wisdom -of a counsellor, the sagacity of a prophet, the reason of an angel, and -the piety of a saint; he had devotion enough for a cloister, learning -enough for an university, and wit enough for a college of virtuosi; and -had his parts and endowments been parcelled out among his poor clergy -that he left behind him, it would perhaps have made one of the best -dioceses in the world. But, alas! ‘Our Father! our Father! the horses of -our Israel, and the chariot thereof!’ he is gone, and has carried his -mantle and his spirit along with him up to heaven; and the sons of the -prophets have lost all their beauty and lustre which they enjoyed only -from the reflection of his excellencies, which were bright and radiant -enough to cast a glory upon a whole order of men.” - -There is a life of Taylor by Archdeacon Bonney; and a copious memoir, -enriched by a minute analysis of all the more remarkable compositions of -our author, is prefixed to Bishop Heber’s edition of Taylor’s works. -From this the materials of the present sketch are taken. Nor can we -better conclude than with the eloquent estimate of Taylor’s merits, with -which the accomplished biographer concludes his work. “It is on -devotional and moral subjects that the peculiar character of Taylor’s -mind is most, and most successfully, developed. To this service he -devotes his most glowing language; to this his aptest illustrations, his -thoughts, and his words, at once burst into a flame, when touched by the -coals of this altar; and whether he describes the duties, or dangers, or -hopes of man, or the mercy, power, and justice of the Most High; whether -he exhorts or instructs his brethren, or offers up his supplications in -their behalf to the common Father of all, his conceptions and his -expressions belong to the loftiest and most sacred description of -poetry, of which they only want, what they cannot be said to need, the -name and the metrical arrangement. - -“It is this distinctive excellence, still more than the other -qualifications of learning and logical acuteness, which has placed him, -even in that age of gigantic talent, on an eminence superior to any of -his immediate contemporaries; and has seated him, by the almost -unanimous estimate of posterity, on the same lofty elevation with Hooker -and with Barrow. - -“Of such a triumvirate, who shall settle the precedence? Yet it may, -perhaps, be not far from the truth, to observe that Hooker claims the -foremost rank in sustained and classic dignity of style, in political -and pragmatical wisdom; that to Barrow the praise must be assigned of -the closest and clearest views, and of a taste the most controlled and -chastened; but that in imagination, in interest, in that which more -properly and exclusively deserves the name of genius, Taylor is to be -placed before either. The first awes most, the second convinces most, -the third persuades and delights most: and, according to the decision of -one whose own rank among the ornaments of English literature yet remains -to be determined by posterity (Dr. Parr), Hooker is the object of our -reverence, Barrow of our admiration, and Jeremy Taylor of our love.” - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by C. E. Wagstaff._ - - LAVOISIER. - - _From the original Picture by David in a Private Collection at Paris._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - LAVOISIER. - - -Antoine Laurent Lavoisier was born in Paris, August 26, 1743. He was -educated under the eye of his father, a man of opulence, with -discernment to appreciate his son’s abilities, and liberality to -cultivate them without regard to cost. Lavoisier early showed a decided -inclination for the physical sciences; and before he was twenty years -old, had made himself master of the principal branches of natural -philosophy. - -In 1764 the government proposed an extraordinary premium for the best -and cheapest project of lighting the streets of Paris, and other large -cities. To this subject, involving a knowledge of several branches of -science, Lavoisier immediately devoted his attention. He produced so -able a memoir, full of the most masterly, accurate, and practical views, -that the gold medal was awarded to him. This production was the means of -introducing him into the Academy of Sciences, of which, after a severe -contest, he was admitted a member, May 13, 1768; and he proved himself -through life one of its most useful and valuable associates. - -At this time the whole range of chemical and physico-chemical science -was in an extremely imperfect state; and the first steps to a more -improved system involved the necessity of clearing away a vast mass of -error which encumbered the path to truth. For instance, one of the -fanciful ideas, the offspring of the alchemy of the dark ages, which -still continued to haunt the regions of science, was the belief of the -conversion of water into earth by gradual consolidation. This subject -Lavoisier treated in the true spirit of the experimental method, and -clearly showed that the pretended conversion was either a deposition of -earthy particles, or a sediment arising from the action of the water on -the internal surface of the retort. He also laboured on the analysis of -the gypsum found in the neighbourhood of Paris, and on the -crystallization of salts. He discussed the project of conveying water -from L’Yvette to Paris, and the theory of congelation; and to these -researches added extensive observations on the phenomena of thunder and -the Aurora Borealis. - -He next directed his attention more especially to mineralogy; and made -excursions, in conjunction with Guettard, into all parts of France, -endeavouring to form from different districts a complete collection of -their characteristic mineral productions. He made advances towards a -systematic classification of facts connected with the localities of -fossils, which afterwards served as the basis of his work on the -revolutions of the globe and the formation of successive strata, of -which two admirable abstracts were inserted in the Memoirs of the -Academy of Sciences, for 1772 and 1787. - -Thus during the earlier part of his life, Lavoisier does not seem to -have devoted himself in particular to any one branch of science. But -about the year 1770 the announcement of the existence of more than one -species of gaseous matter, arising out of the successive researches of -Black, Scheele, Priestley, and Cavendish, had the effect of fixing his -attention to the subject of pneumatic chemistry. The invaluable -discoveries just alluded to had opened a new world to the inquirer into -nature; and the labours of those distinguished experimentalists had -conspired to commence a fresh era in science. Lavoisier was one of the -first to appreciate at once the importance of the results they had -arrived at, and the immense field of further research to which those -results had opened the way. He perceived by a sort of instinct the -glorious career which lay before him; and the influence which this new -science thus, as it were, created, must have over every sort of physical -research. Priestley possessed precisely those qualifications which are -most available for striking out new and brilliant discoveries of facts; -a boundless fertility of invention; a power of rapidly seizing remote -analogies; and an equal readiness in framing and in abandoning -hypotheses, which have no value, but as guides to experiment. Lavoisier, -less eminent in these respects, possessed in a more peculiar degree the -mental characteristics which enable their owner to advance to grand -generalizations and philosophical theories upon the sure basis of facts. -He possessed, in its fullest sense, the true spirit of inductive -caution, and even geometrical rigour; and his observations, eminently -precise and luminous, always pointed to more general views. - -In 1774, he published his ‘Opuscules Chimiques,’ in which, after a full -and truly philosophical examination of the labours of preceding -experimenters in the discovery of the gases and their characteristic -properties, he proceeds to describe his own beautiful and fundamentally -important researches, from which resulted the ‘True Theory of -Combustion,’ which may be termed the very sun and centre of the whole -modern system of chemistry. - -To the vague dreams of the alchemist had succeeded the remarkable theory -of Hooke, who maintained that a certain ingredient of the atmospheric -air (which also enters as an ingredient into several other bodies, -especially nitre) was the _solvent_ which absorbed a portion of the -combustible. This process was continued in proportion as more of the -solvent was supplied. The solution took place with such rapidity, as to -occasion those motions or pulsations in which Hooke believed heat and -light to consist. - -This near approach to the truth was thrown into discredit by the more -brilliant and imposing theory of Stahl, who captivated the imaginations -of chemists by his doctrine of phlogiston, the principle or element of -fire, a sort of metaphysical something, which conferred the property of -being combustible. Stahl taught that the process of combustion deprived -bodies of their phlogiston, which, in the act of separation, exhibited -its latent energies in the evolution of light and heat. - -This wild chimera long maintained its ground, and received successive -modifications in the hands of several distinguished chemists, the most -important of which was that of Kirwan; but these all retained the -fundamental error that something was _abstracted from_ the burning body. -Yet Rey, so early as 1630, and Bayer afterwards, had both shown that -metals by calcination _increase_ in weight, or have something _added_ to -them. Lavoisier turned his attention to the defects of the existing -theory about 1770; and the last-named experiments probably directed him -more specifically to the essential point of the inquiry. He pursued his -researches with unwearied industry; and by a long series of experiments -of the most laborious and precise nature, he succeeded in determining -that, in all cases of combustion, that substance which is the _real_ -combustible invariably receives _an addition_, or enters into a new -combination; and the matter with which it combines is in all cases that -same substance which had now been shown by Priestley to be one of the -constituents of the atmosphere, and which was then known by the name of -_vital air_. - -It was however long before Lavoisier gained a single convert. At length -M. Berthollet, at a meeting of the Academy in 1785, publicly renounced -the old opinions and declared himself a convert. Fourcroy followed his -example. In 1787, Morveau, during a visit to Paris, became convinced, -and declared the conclusions of Lavoisier irresistible. The younger -chemists speedily embraced the new views; and their establishment was -thus complete. There only remained some lurking prejudices in England, -where the Essay of Kirwan retained its credit. Lavoisier and his -coadjutors translated this essay into French, accompanying each section -by a refutation. So completely was this done, that the author himself -was convinced; and, with that candour which distinguishes superior -minds, gave up his views as untenable, and declared himself a convert. - -These discoveries introduced Lavoisier to the notice of the most eminent -persons in the State; and in 1776, Turgot engaged him to superintend the -manufacture of gunpowder for the Government. He introduced many valuable -improvements in the process, and many judicious reforms into the -establishment. - -In 1778, Lavoisier having been incessantly engaged on the subject of -gases and combustion, announced another great discovery, “that the -respirable portion of the atmosphere is the constituent principle of -acids,” which he therefore denominated _oxygen_. - -The question as to “the acidifying principle” had long formed the -subject of discussion. The prevalent theory was that of Beccher with -various modifications, which made the acid principle a compound of earth -and water regarded as elements. Lavoisier found in the instance of a -great number of the acids, that they consisted of a combustible -principle united with oxygen. He showed this both analytically and -synthetically, and hence proceeded to the conclusion that oxygen is the -acidifying principle in all acids. Berthollet opposed this doctrine, and -contended that, in general, acidity depended on the manner and -proportion in which the constituents are combined. The fact is, that, in -this instance, Lavoisier had advanced a little too rapidly to his -conclusion. Had he contented himself with stating it as applying to a -_great number_ of acids, it would have been strictly true; but he had -certainly no proof of its being _universally_ the case. When Sir H. -Davy, some years after, showed that one of the most powerful acids (the -muriatic) does not contain a single particle of oxygen, and when the -researches of Guy Lussac and others had exhibited other proofs of the -same thing, it became evident that Lavoisier’s assertion required -considerable modification. And though _nearly_ all acids have been since -included under the general law of containing _some supporter of -combustion_, yet there appear to be exceptions even to this; the -cautious language of Berthollet has been completely justified; and a -perfect theory of acidity is perhaps yet wanting. Nevertheless, -Lavoisier’s discovery is one of first-rate magnitude and importance, and -with this qualification, certainly forms the basis of all our present -knowledge of the subject. - -Another important research in which Lavoisier engaged, in conjunction -with Laplace, was the determination of the specific heats of bodies, by -means of an ingenious apparatus, which they denominated the calorimeter: -these were by far the most precise experiments on the subject which had -as yet been made, though some inaccuracies in the method have since been -pointed out. - -Lavoisier owed much, it must be owned, to those external advantages of -fortune, the absence of which, though it cannot confine the flights of -real genius, yet may seriously impair the value and efficiency of its -exertions; and the presence of which, though it cannot confer the powers -of intellect, may yet afford most invaluable aids to the prosecution of -research, and the dissemination of knowledge. In the instance before us, -these advantages were enjoyed to the full extent, and turned to the best -use. Lavoisier was enabled to command the most unlimited resources of -instrumental aid; he pursued his researches in a laboratory furnished -with the most costly apparatus, and was able to put every suggestion to -the test of experiment, by the assistance of the most skilful artists, -and instruments of the most perfect construction. - -But as he could thus command these essential advantages for the -prosecution of his own investigations, he was equally mindful of the -extension of similar advantages to others: he always evinced himself -ready to assist the inquiries of those who had not the same means at -their disposal; and was no less liberal in aiding them by his stores of -information and able advice. Indeed no one could be more sensible how -much there is of mutual advantage in such intercourse between those -engaged in the same scientific labours; and this conviction, joined with -a full perception of the immense benefits accruing from personal -acquaintance among men of kindred pursuits, and the interchange of -social good offices, led him to the regular practice of opening his -house on two evenings in every week, for an assembly of all the -scientific men of the French capital; which very soon became a point of -general resort and reunion to the philosophers of Europe. - -At these meetings general discourse and philosophic discussion were -agreeably intermingled; the opinions of the most eminent philosophers -were freely canvassed; the most striking and novel passages in the -publications of foreign countries were made known, recited, and -animadverted upon; and the progress of experiment was assisted by candid -comments and comparison with theory. In these assemblies might be found, -mingling in instructive and delightful conversation, all those whose -names made the last century memorable in the annals of science. -Priestley, Fontana, Landriani, Watt, Bolton, and Ingenhouz, were -associated with Laplace, Lagrange, Borda, Cousin, Monge, Morveau, and -Berthollet. There was also an incalculable advantage in bringing into -communication and intimacy men engaged in distinct branches of science: -the intercourse of the mathematician with the geologist, of the -astronomer with the chemist, of the computer with the experimenter, and -of the artist with the theorist, could not fail to be of mutual -advantage. In no instance were the beneficial effects of such -intercourse more strikingly displayed than in the chemical sciences; -which, from this sort of comparison of ideas and methods, began now to -assume a character of exactness from an infusion of the spirit of -geometry; and a department hitherto abandoned to the wildest -speculations, and encumbered with the most vague and undefined -phraseology (derived from the jargon of the alchemists), began to assume -something like arrangement and method in its ideas, and precision and -order in its nomenclature. This influence was strongly marked in the -physical memoirs produced in France from this period downwards. The -precision and severity of style, and the philosophical method of the -mathematicians, was insensibly transfused into the papers of the -physical and chemical philosophers. - -Lavoisier individually profited greatly by the sources of improvement -and information thus opened. Whenever any new result presented itself to -him, which, perhaps, from contradicting all received theories, seemed -paradoxical, or at variance with all principles hitherto recognised, it -was fully laid before these select assemblies of philosophers; the -experiment was exhibited in their presence, and they were invited with -the utmost candour to offer their criticisms and objections. In perfect -reliance on the mutual spirit of candour, they were not backward in -urging whatever difficulties occurred to them, and the truth thus -elicited acquired a firmness and stability in its public reception -proportioned to the severity of the test it had undergone. Lavoisier -seldom announced any discovery until it had passed this ordeal. - -At length he combined his philosophical views into a connected system, -which he published in 1789, under the title of ‘Elements of Chemistry:’ -a beautiful model of scientific composition, clear and logical in its -arrangement, perspicuous and even elegant in its style and manner. These -perfections are rarely to be found in elementary works written by -original discoverers. The genius which qualifies a man for enlarging the -boundaries of science by his own inventions and researches is of a very -different class from that which confers the ability to elucidate, in a -simple and systematic course, the order and connexion of elementary -truths. But in Lavoisier these different species of talent were most -happily blended. He not only added profound truths to science, but -succeeded in adapting them to the apprehension of students, and was able -to render them attractive by his eloquence. - -In 1791 he entered upon extensive researches, having for their object -the application of pneumatic chemistry to the advancement of medicine, -in reference to the process of respiration. With this view he examined -in great detail the changes which the air undergoes, and the products -generated in that process of the animal economy. He had previously, -however, as far back as 1780, detailed a series of experiments to -determine the quantity of oxygen consumed and carbonic acid generated by -respiration, in a given time, in the Memoirs of the French Academy. - -In the twenty volumes of the Academy of Sciences, from 1772 to 1793, are -not less than forty memoirs by Lavoisier, replete with all the grand -phenomena of the science:—the doctrine of combustion in all its -bearings; the nature and analysis of atmospheric air; the generation and -combinations of elastic fluids; the properties of heat; the composition -of acids; the decomposition and recomposition of water; the solutions of -metals; and the phenomena of vegetation, fermentation, and -animalization. These are some of the most important subjects of his -papers; and during the whole of this period he advanced steadily in the -course which was pointed out to him by the unerring rules of inductive -inquiry, to which his original genius supplied the commentary. So well -did he secure every point of the results to which he ascended, that he -never made a false step. It was only in one subject, before alluded to, -that he may be said to have gone a few steps too far. Nor did he ever -suffer himself to be discouraged, or his ardour to be damped by the -difficulties and obstacles which perpetually impeded his progress. He -traced new paths for investigation, and founded a new school of science; -and his successors had ample employment in following out the inquiries -which he had indicated, and exploring those recesses to which he had -opened the way. - -In the relations of social and civil life Lavoisier was exemplary; and -he rendered essential service to the state in several capacities. He was -treasurer to the Academy, and introduced economy and order into its -finances: he was also a member of the board of consultation, and took an -active share in its business. When the new system of measures was in -agitation, and it was proposed to determine a degree of the meridian, he -made accurate experiments on the dilatation of metals, in conjunction -with Laplace (1782), to ascertain the corrections due to changes of -temperature in the substances used as measuring rods in those delicate -operations. - -By the National Convention he was consulted on the means of improving -the manufacture of assignats, and of increasing the difficulty of -forgery. He turned his attention to matters of rural economy, and, by -improved methods of cultivation, on scientific principles, he increased -the produce of an experimental farm nearly one half. In 1791 he was -invited by the Constituent Assembly to digest a plan for simplifying the -collection of taxes: the excellent memoir which he produced on this -subject was printed under the title of ‘The Territorial Riches of -France.’ He was likewise appointed a Commissioner of the National -Treasury, in which he effected some beneficial reforms. - -During the terrors of Robespierre’s tyranny, Lavoisier remarked that he -foresaw he should be stripped of all his property, and accordingly would -prepare to enter the profession of an apothecary, by which he should be -able to gain a livelihood. But the ignorant and brutal ruffians who were -then in power had already condemned him to the scaffold, on which he was -executed, May 8, 1794, for the pretended crime of having adulterated -snuff with ingredients destructive to the health of the citizens! On -being seized, he entreated at least to be allowed time to finish some -experiments in which he was engaged; but the reply of Coffinhall, the -president of the gang who condemned him, was characteristic of the -savage ignorance of those monsters in human form:—“The Republic does not -want savans or chemists, and the course of justice cannot be suspended.” - -Lavoisier in person was tall and graceful, and of lively manners and -appearance. He was mild, sociable, and obliging; and in his habits -unaffectedly plain and simple. He was liberal in pecuniary assistance to -those in need of it; and his hatred of all ostentation in doing good -probably concealed greatly the real amount of his beneficence. He -married, in 1771, Marie-Anni-Pierrette Paulze, a lady of great talents -and accomplishments, who after his death became the wife of Count -Rumford. - - - - -[Illustration] - - SYDENHAM. - - -The celebrated physician, Thomas Sydenham, in many respects the most -eminent that England has produced, was born in the year 1624, at -Wynford-Eagle, in Dorsetshire, where his father, William Sydenham, -enjoyed a considerable estate. The mansion in which he was born is now -converted into a farm-house, and stands on the property of Lord Wynford. - -In the year 1642, when eighteen, he was admitted as a commoner at -Magdalen-Hall, Oxford; but quitted it in the same year, when that city -became the head quarters of the royal army, after the battle of -Edge-hill. He was probably induced to take this step by reasons of a -political nature; for we find that his family were active adherents of -the opposite party. Indeed he is said, though on doubtful authority, to -have held a commission himself under the Parliament during his absence -from Oxford; and his elder brother, William, is known to have attained -considerable rank in the republican army, and held important commands -under the Protectorate. - -The political bias of his family is not without interest, as affording a -probable explanation of some circumstances in his life which would -otherwise be rather unaccountable,—such as the fact, that though he -reached the first eminence as a practising physician, he was never -employed at court, and was slighted by the college, who invested him -with none of their honours, nor even advanced him to the fellowship, -though a licentiate of their body, and qualified by the requisite -University education. - -When Oxford was surrendered to the Parliament, Sydenham determined to -resume his academical studies; and passing through London - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by E. Scriven._ - - SYDENHAM. - - _From the Picture in the Hall of All Souls College, Oxford._ - - Under the Superintendence of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - -on his way, he met accidentally with Dr. Thomas Coxe, a physician of -some repute at that time, who was attending his brother. The choice of a -profession became the subject of a conversation between them, which -determined him in favour of medicine; for in a letter addressed to Dr. -Mapletoft, thirty years after this time, which forms the preface to one -of his writings, he refers with much warmth to this conversation as the -origin of his professional zeal, and, consequently, of whatever useful -advances he had made in medicine. Thus his success, both in the practice -and reformation of his art, may show the advantage of waiting till the -faculties are fully matured, before they are exercised in a study which -requires independence as well as vigour in thinking: for the -circumstances of his family being sufficiently affluent to place him -above the necessity of choosing a profession early, he had not turned -his attention to physic till an age at which the medical education is -generally almost completed. We are not, however, to believe in the -justice of an accusation brought against him, that he had never studied -his profession till he began to practise it; for though we do not know -what particular line of study he pursued on his return to Oxford, it is -clear from many passages in his works that he had studied the writings -of the ancient physicians with no common care; and as his own show no -defect of acquaintance with whatever real information had been collected -before his time, we may reasonably conclude that this contemporary -censure was mistaken or malicious. He certainly held the opinions of his -modern predecessors in very little respect, for he does not often -mention them, even for the purpose of confutation; and in the letter to -Dr. Mapletoft already referred to, he says that he had found the best, -and, in fact, the only safe guide, through the various perplexities he -had met with in his practice, to be the method of actual observation and -experiment recommended by Lord Bacon. This sentiment is often repeated -in his works; but it surely does not countenance the idea that he had -begun to practise without endeavouring to make what preparation he -could, or would have had others follow such an example; for the charge -against him goes to this length. The notion might arise from a foolish -anecdote related by his admirer, Sir Richard Blackmore, of his having -recommended Don Quixote as the best introduction he knew to the practice -of medicine, which Sydenham must have intended as a jest, or perhaps as -a sarcasm on the narrator himself. - -At Oxford he formed a close friendship with John Locke, better known -afterwards as a philosopher than as a physician. Their intimacy, which -lasted to the end of Sydenham’s life, probably contributed not a little -to give form to the disgust which he soon displayed at the -unsatisfactory and fluctuating state of medical opinion, and to the zeal -with which he sought to establish it on surer grounds; for he appeals, -as to the highest authority, in confirmation of some of his new views on -the treatment of fever, to the approval of his illustrious friend, who -even paid him the compliment of prefixing a eulogy in indifferent Latin -verse to the treatise in which these views are developed. - -On the 14th of April, 1648, he took the degree of bachelor of medicine, -being then twenty-four years old; and in the same year obtained a -fellowship at All Souls College, by the interest of a relation. The -degree of doctor he subsequently took at Cambridge, where, being among -those who thought with him in politics, he probably found himself more -at his ease. After a visit of some length at Montpellier, then -considered the best practical school of medicine on the continent, he -settled in Westminster, and soon after married. - -His progress to eminence in his profession must have been unusually -rapid, which might be owing, in some measure, to the call for men of -good capacity to the more stirring scenes of civil strife; for at -thirty-six he had succeeded in establishing a first-rate reputation, -which he continued to sustain in spite of much hostility and ill-health -for upwards of twenty years. - -He witnessed the breaking out of the plague in 1665, but when it reached -the house adjoining his own, he was induced to remove with his family -some miles out of town. Of this desertion of his post, however, he seems -to have repented; for he afterwards returned, and occupied himself -diligently in visiting the victims of that devastating malady, and has -left a short but interesting account of his opinions respecting it, and -of the treatment he adopted; for the comparative success of which, he -appeals to the physicians who had witnessed or followed his practice. - -At the age of 25, though a man of remarkably temperate and regular -habits, he became afflicted with gout and stone, from which he suffered -extreme torment with great resignation and patience for the rest of his -life. Of course he did not neglect the opportunity of studying those -diseases in his own person, and recording the result of his -observations. His account of gout, especially, is considered to be a -most accurate and able history of that disease. - -He died, leaving a family, at his house in Pall-Mall, on the 29th of -December, 1689, in the 66th year of his age, and was buried in the -parish church of St. James, Westminster, where, in 1810, a tablet was -erected to his memory by the College of Physicians, who became, as a -body, tardily but fully convinced of his extraordinary merit and eminent -claims to the gratitude and respect of his profession. - -He is said to have been a man of the most retiring and unobtrusive -disposition, and the utmost placidity of temper. In a biographical -sketch by Dr. Samuel Johnson, prefixed to an English edition of his -works by Swan, in 1742, it is remarked, that if he could not teach us in -his writings how to cure the painful disorders from which he suffered, -he has taught us by his example the nobler art to bear them with -serenity. Nor was he less patient of mental than of bodily inflictions; -for though he was the object of much asperity among the physicians of -his time, he made no reprisals upon the reputations of those who -slandered him: though he often speaks of their bitterness, he never even -mentions their names,—a forbearance to which, as his biographer -pungently remarks, they are indebted for their escape from a -discreditable immortality. His writings breathe throughout a spirit of -warm piety, candour, and benevolence: he is said to have been extremely -generous in his dealings with his patients; for which, with other -reasons, his practice though large was not very gainful, and he did not -leave much wealth behind him. He never was sought after by the great, -like his successor and disciple Radcliffe; and had none of the talents -by which that singular man was able to push his fortune and establish a -kind of professional despotism. Yet, whatever medical skill the latter -evinced seems to have been derived from Sydenham, whose doctrines and -treatment he contrived to bring into a much more early and general -repute in England than they would probably have otherwise obtained. Each -had his reward: the one will be long remembered as the founder of a -magnificent library; the other can never be forgotten as the author of -modern medicine. - -The bent of Sydenham’s mind was eminently practical; he thought that the -business of a physician is to acquire an accurate knowledge of the -causes and symptoms of diseases, and the effects of different remedies -upon them, that if he cannot prevent them, he may at least recognise -them with certainty, and apply with promptitude the means most likely to -cure them: with Hippocrates and the ancient empirical physicians, whose -tenets he professed to follow, he condemned all curious speculations -upon the intimate nature of disease, as incapable of proof, and -therefore always useless, and often hurtful; and maintained that the -only trustworthy source of opinion in medicine is experience resulting -from observations frequently repeated, and experiments cautiously -varied; and that no theories worth attention can be framed until the -recorded experience of many observers, under many different -circumstances, and even through successive ages, shall be embodied into -one general system; and he boldly declared his belief that every acute -disease might then be cured. An instance, which unfortunately as yet -stands alone in support of this rather sanguine expectation, may be -taken from the history of small-pox. The observation of its contagious -nature led to the general practice of inoculation, and this to the -immortal discovery of Jenner, by which a disease but yesterday the -scourge of the earth has been almost extinguished. It is remarkable that -Sydenham, who first pointed out the important difference between its -distinct and confluent forms,—who so materially improved the treatment -by changing it from stifling to cooling,—and who studied and has -described it with a laborious accuracy hardly paralleled in the history -of medicine,—was not aware of this, to us, its most striking -characteristic of contagion. A person conversant with such subjects will -feel no surprise at this: to the general reader it may be a sufficient -explanation, that it lies dormant for ten days; and that as it can only -be taken once, and was always prevalent in London, the number of persons -susceptible at any given time, and in obvious communication with each -other, were comparatively few: so that opportunities were not so likely -to arise as might be imagined of tracing its progress in single families -or neighbourhoods from one source of contagion. - -Sydenham is justly celebrated for the happiness of his descriptions, and -his skilful application of simple methods of cure, which are as -effectual as they were novel in that age when a medical prescription -sometimes contained a hundred different substances; but he has merit of -a higher kind, as a discoverer of general laws. Among others, he was the -first to notice that there is a uniformity in the fevers prevailing at -any one time, which is subject to periodical changes; and that other -acute diseases often partake largely of the same general character, and -sometimes even merge in it altogether, as the plague is said to have -swallowed up all other diseases. This, which he ascribed to some -peculiar state of the atmosphere, he called its epidemic constitution; -and to be aware of its vicissitudes must of course be very important to -the physician as a guide to practice. The value of these laws, which -Sydenham deduced from a multitude of observations, has been attested by -almost every medical writer since his time. - -His works have been repeatedly printed in the original Latin, as well as -in English and the continental languages. The first was published after -he had been sixteen years in practice; the last he edited himself, is -dated three years before his death; and an elegant compendium of his -experience was published posthumously by his son. They all appear to -have been extorted by the importunity of his friends or the -misrepresentations of his enemies. It is said that they were composed in -English, and translated into Latin by his friends Mapletoft and Havers: -there is, however, little reason for attaching credit to this report, as -we are assured, on the authority of Sir Hans Sloane, who knew him well, -that Sydenham was an excellent classical scholar, and perfectly capable -of expressing himself elegantly in Latin. They are most carefully -written and clearly expressed, and bear marks of the utmost truth and -impartiality in the narration of facts, and judgment in arranging them. -They are not voluminous, as he studiously refrained from overloading -them with trivial matter, and from entering into the detail of a greater -number of cases than might be sufficient to illustrate his method of -practice. His object was to confine himself to the results of his own -observation: to this he pretty strictly adhered, so that little space is -occupied in his writings by quotations or criticism. It must be admitted -that he occasionally lapses into theoretical discussion, in violation of -his own principles; but as he seldom or never permitted his fancy to -divert him from what was practically useful, he may be pardoned, if in -that age of speculation he could not entirely resist the seduction. A -graver charge against him is, that he overlooked or undervalued the -immense body of information to be obtained from examining the effects of -diseased actions after death, and devoted himself too exclusively to the -study of the symptoms during life, and the effect of remedies upon them. -It is hardly a sufficient justification of a man of so much independence -of spirit to reply, that such examinations were opposed by the -prejudices of the age in which he lived. Others have overcome the same -obstacles, and with them many of those difficulties which perplexed and -misled even the mind of Sydenham. He had equal or greater difficulties -to contend against in the deep-rooted absurdities of the chemical and -mechanical schools, which in the early part of his life held an almost -equally divided sway in medicine: the former originated with Paracelsus -and his disciples, and had the advantage of a longer prescription; and -the latter had received a fresh accession of strength from the recent -discoveries of Harvey: both, however, gave way before his energetic -appeal to fact and experience. Scarcely less credit is due to him for -his successful opposition to the popular superstition in favour of a -host of futile remedies, which are now happily consigned to oblivion -with the family receipt books and herbals in which their virtues were -paraded, than for his victory over false principles and dangerous rules -of practice. - -On the whole, it may be safely advanced that medicine, as a practical -science, owes more to the closely-printed octavo, in which the results -of his toilsome exertions are comprised, than to any other single source -of information. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by C. E. Wagstaff._ - - LORD CLARENDON. - - _From the Picture in the Bodleian Library, Oxford._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - CLARENDON. - - -Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, the third son of Henry Hyde, of Dinton, -Esquire, a younger branch of an ancient family long established in -Cheshire, was born at Dinton, near Salisbury, February 18, 1609. The -most valuable part of his early education he received from his father, -who was an excellent scholar: from his residence at Magdalen Hall, -Oxford, where he entered in 1622, and took his bachelor’s degree in -1625, according to his own account he obtained little benefit. In -February 1627, he was entered at the Middle Temple. At the age of -twenty-one, he married his first wife, who died within six months of -their union. After the lapse of three years he was again married, to the -daughter of Sir Thomas Aylesbury, Master of Requests to the King, by -whom he left a numerous family. He was called to the bar in Michaelmas -term, 1633. To the study of law he entertained in the first instance a -strong dislike, and applied himself chiefly to history and general -literature. But from the time of his second marriage he devoted himself -steadily to the pursuit of his profession, in which he early acquired -considerable practice and reputation. His business was, however, more -frequent in the Court of Requests, in the Star Chamber, than in the -courts of common law, and his name rarely appears in the reports of that -period. - -Soon after he was called to the bar, Mr. Hyde was concerned in a -transaction of considerable moment, which produced important -consequences in his future life, by introducing him to the favourable -notice of Archbishop Laud. It arose out of certain Custom-House -regulations, by which the London merchants found themselves aggrieved. -The leading men among them applied to Mr. Hyde, who, on finding all -remonstrances with the Lord Treasurer unavailing, advised them to state -their grievances in a petition to the King, which he drew for them. On -the death of the Lord Treasurer, the Earl of Portland, the affairs of -the Treasury were placed under the management of several commissioners, -of whom Laud was one. The Archbishop soon found occasion to investigate -the complaint of the merchants; and in consequence he sent for, and held -several interviews with, Mr. Hyde: to whom he became a valuable and -efficient patron, noticing him particularly when he appeared as counsel -in the Star Chamber, and consulting and employing him on many public -occasions. - -Laud’s favour introduced Mr. Hyde to the Lord Keeper Coventry, the Earl -of Manchester, then Lord Privy Seal, and other political and legal -characters of high rank, of the court party. With the leaders of the -popular, or country party also he was upon friendly terms, “having,” as -he says, “that rare felicity, that even they who did not love many of -those upon whom he most depended, were yet very well pleased with him -and with his company.” - -Upon the summoning of what was called the Short Parliament, which met -April 3, 1640, Mr. Hyde was elected member for Wootton-Basset, and for -Shaftesbury. He chose to take his seat for the former place. His first -and only speech during the session was in the celebrated debate on the -subject of grievances, introduced by a motion of Mr. Pym; on which -occasion Mr. Hyde directed the attention of the house to the enormous -abuses of the Earl Marshal’s Court. Whitelocke says that “he gained much -credit by his conduct in this business.” In the warm debate which took -place in the House of Commons upon the question of a supply, it was -hinted by members of the house connected with the court, that Charles, -upon hearing of their proceedings, would probably dissolve the -parliament in displeasure. Mr. Hyde perceived the injurious tendency of -such a measure, and immediately went from the house to Archbishop Laud, -to entreat him to dissuade the King from so injudicious a course. The -Archbishop heard him as usual with patience, but refused to interfere: -and the Parliament was dissolved in less than three weeks after its -first meeting. - -The necessities of the King compelled him to call the Long Parliament in -the following November, of which Mr. Hyde was also a member. The -elections having in general favoured the popular party, the temper of -this parliament was at its commencement decidedly more opposed to the -court than the last. At first, Mr. Hyde, whose familiarity with Laud was -well known, was an object of jealousy and dislike. His conduct as -chairman of the committee appointed to consider the abuses of the Earl -Marshal’s Court, which led to the total abolition of that unauthorized -jurisdiction, and his avowed disapprobation of several obnoxious -branches of the prerogative, restored him in some degree to the good -opinion of the house, while his influence with the moderate party, both -in the court and the parliament, daily increased. Having given up his -professional practice since the beginning of the parliament, he was much -employed in the ordinary business of the house. He was chairman of the -committee appointed to inquire into the legality and expediency of the -courts of the President and Council of the North, commonly called the -Courts of York; and in April, 1641, he was commissioned to communicate -to the House of Lords the resolutions of the Commons against those -courts. The performance of this duty he accompanied by a speech, in -which he explained to the Lords, with much clearness and precision, the -origin and nature of this obnoxious jurisdiction, and which he says in -his History, “met with good approbation in both houses.” In July -following he was chairman of the committee for inquiring into the -conduct of the judges in the case of ship-money; and the management of -the impeachment of the Lord Chief Baron Davenport, Baron Weston, and -Baron Trevor, before the Lords, was afterwards entrusted to him. Upon -this occasion, he delivered an excellent speech, exhibiting, in eloquent -language, the destructive effects of the corruption of the judges upon -the liberty of the subject and the security of property. During the same -year, he appears from the Commons’ journals to have been usually named -on the most important committees both of a public and private nature. - -The course adopted by Mr. Hyde with reference to the Earl of Strafford’s -prosecution cannot be precisely ascertained. That he was employed in -arranging the preliminary steps for the impeachment, appears from the -journals; but in his History he does not explicitly declare what part he -took upon the introduction of the bill of attainder. Some of his -biographers state that he warmly opposed it; but no evidence is given in -support of the assertion; and it is quite clear that neither his name, -nor that of Lord Falkland, his political and personal friend, appear -amongst those which were posted as “Straffordians, Betrayers of their -Country,” for having voted against the measure. Though he cordially -acquiesced in many of the measures at this time introduced by the -popular leaders for the redress of grievances, his political opinions, -as well as his ultimate views and intentions, differed widely from those -of the predominant party. He strenuously opposed a bill for depriving -the bishops of their seats in parliament, which passed the House of -Commons, though it was rejected in the House of Lords by a great -majority. In no degree discouraged by this discomfiture, the leaders of -the Puritan party soon afterwards introduced a measure for the total -abolition of episcopacy, known by the title of ‘The Root and Branch -Bill,’ which was read a first time and committed. Mr. Hyde was appointed -chairman of the committee, by common consent of both parties; the one -wishing to get rid of his opposition in the committee, the other to -secure a chairman of their own views. The result proved the latter party -to be in the right; for Hyde contrived so to baffle the promoters of the -measure, that they at last thought proper to withdraw it, Sir Arthur -Haselrig declaring in the house, that “he would never hereafter put an -enemy into the chair.” His conduct respecting this measure was warmly -approved by the King; who before he went to Scotland in 1641, sent for -Mr. Hyde, to express how much he was beholden to him for his services, -“for which he thought fit to give him his own thanks, and to assure him -that he would remember it to his advantage.” - -Before the King left Whitehall, in consequence of the tumults occasioned -by his indiscretion in demanding the Five Members, he charged Mr. Hyde, -in conjunction with Lord Falkland and Sir John Colepeper, to consult -constantly together upon the state of affairs in his absence, and to -give him on every occasion their unreserved advice, without which he -declared solemnly that he would take no step in the parliament. Though -much discouraged by the previous conduct of the King respecting the Five -Members, which he had adopted without consulting them, and entirely -against their judgment, they undertook and faithfully executed the -charge imposed upon them; and after the King had left London, they met -every night at Mr. Hyde’s house in Westminster, to communicate to each -other their several intelligences and observations, and to make such -arrangements as they thought best adapted to stay the falling fortunes -of the royal cause. - -Mr. Hyde’s good understanding with the leaders of the popular party had -rapidly declined, since his opposition to the proposed measure for -ejecting the bishops from the House of Lords; and after his conduct in -the committee for abolishing episcopacy he was regarded as a declared -enemy, and his nightly consultations with Falkland and Colepeper were -watched with the utmost jealousy. Though his situation at this time was -one of considerable danger, he remained at his post after the King’s -departure to York, and constantly took his seat in the House of Commons. -About the latter end of April, 1642, Mr. Hyde received a letter from the -King, requiring him immediately to repair to him at York; with which -requisition he complied in the course of the next month, having first -rendered a signal service to the royal cause by persuading the Lord -Keeper Littleton to send the Great Seal and also to go himself to the -King. In consequence of this step the House of Commons passed a -resolution, in August, 1642, disabling him from sitting again in that -parliament; and their indignation was raised to such a degree, that Mr. -Hyde was one of the few persons who were excepted from the pardon which -the Earl of Essex was afterwards instructed to offer to those who might -be induced to leave the King and submit to the parliament. On joining -the King at York, Mr. Hyde continued to be one of his most confidential -advisers, and was soon afterwards knighted and made Chancellor of the -Exchequer. In this capacity he negotiated with the parliamentary -commissioners sent to Oxford in 1643; and in 1645 he acted as one of the -King’s commissioners at the treaty of Uxbridge. After the breaking off -of that treaty it was thought expedient to send the Prince of Wales into -the west of England, both to secure his person from the dangers with -which his father was environed, and to give encouragement to the -Royalists in that part of the country. Sir Edward Hyde accompanied him -as one of his council. The parliamentary successes in the west compelled -the Prince to migrate, first to Scilly, thence to Jersey, from which -place he departed into France in July, 1646. Hyde remained in Jersey for -the space of two years, devoting himself wholly to his History of the -Rebellion, which he had commenced in the Scilly Islands, and of which he -completed the four first books at that time. While engaged in this -manner, he received several letters from the King, expressive of his -approbation of his undertaking, and supplying him with a particular -relation of the occurrences which had taken place from the departure of -the Prince until the period of his joining the Scotch army. - -In May, 1648, Hyde received the King’s commands to join the Prince of -Wales at Paris. On the way thither, he met Lord Cottington and others at -Rouen, where he learned that the Prince was gone to Holland, and was -ordered to follow him. After many difficulties and dangers, Cottington -and Hyde met their young master at the Hague in the month of August, and -were soon afterwards joined by several other members of the King’s -council. - -On the announcement of the execution of his father, Charles despatched -Sir Edward Hyde and Lord Cottington as his ambassadors to Spain. After a -fruitless negotiation of fifteen months, they received a message from -court shortly after the arrival of the news of Cromwell’s victory at -Dunbar, desiring them to quit the Spanish dominions. Hyde then repaired -to Antwerp, where he resided with his wife and family, until, at the end -of 1651, he was summoned to Paris, to meet Charles II., after his -memorable escape from the battle of Worcester. He resided at Paris with -the exiled court for nearly three years, and during this period enjoyed -the unlimited confidence of his master, who left the arduous and -difficult task of corresponding and negotiating with the English -royalists entirely to his management. At this period the exiled -royalists were frequently reduced to great pecuniary distress. The -miserable dissensions and petty jealousies which prevailed among them -are fully described in the History of the Rebellion. At length Charles, -wearied and disgusted by the intrigues and broils which perpetually -disturbed his council, while subject to the interference of the Queen -Mother, determined to leave Paris; and accordingly he quitted that city -in June, 1654, and went to reside at Cologne, Sir Edward Hyde and the -rest of his court still following his humble fortunes. Upon the -execution of the treaty with Spain, Charles removed from Cologne to -Bruges in 1657, and in the course of that year bestowed upon Sir Edward -Hyde the then empty dignity of Lord High Chancellor of England. Soon -after this event the prospects of the Royalists began to brighten. The -government of Cromwell had been for some time growing infirm, in -consequence of domestic dissensions, the exhausted state of the revenue, -and the distrust entertained towards the Protector, who had successively -deceived and disappointed all parties. These seeds of discord were -sedulously cultivated by the English royalists; and at last the death of -that extraordinary man led to a series of events which introduced the -restoration of Charles II. - -At the Restoration Sir Edward Hyde was continued as Lord Chancellor; and -notwithstanding the constant hostility of the Queen Mother and her -faction at court, he maintained for some time a paramount influence with -the King, who treated him with the confidence and friendship which his -great industry and talents for business, and his faithful attachment to -himself and his father so well deserved. In November, 1660, he was -raised to the peerage, by the title of Baron Hyde of Hindon in the -county of Wilts, and in the spring of the following year he was created -Viscount Cornbury and Earl of Clarendon. He was also about this time -elected Chancellor of the University of Oxford. Among the tribes of -expectant cavaliers who now flocked to the court of the restored -monarch, all impatient to obtain something in recompense for their -alleged services and sufferings in the royal cause, these honours and -distinctions bestowed upon the Earl of Clarendon raised a storm of envy -and malice which eventually caused his ruin. The King’s easiness of -access, and, as Lord Clarendon calls it, that “_imbecillitas frontis_, -which kept him from denying,” together with the moral cowardice which -induced him to escape from the most troublesome importunities, by -sending petitioners to the Chancellor for their answers, necessarily -increased the dislike with which he was regarded. The discovery of the -marriage of his daughter to the Duke of York, afterwards James II., -though it probably took place without the knowledge of the Chancellor, -gave ample opportunity to the malice of his enemies. The King, however, -behaved on this occasion in a manner which did him credit. He not only -required the Duke to acknowledge his wife, on being certified that the -ceremony had been duly performed, but refused with passion the proffered -resignation of the Chancellor, who offered to reside in future beyond -seas, and conjured him “never more to think of those unreasonable -things, but to attend and prosecute his business with his usual -alacrity, since his kindness should never fail him.” - -The first open act of hostility against Lord Clarendon was undertaken by -the Earl of Bristol, who, in 1663, exhibited articles of high treason -and other misdemeanors against him in the House of Lords. These -articles, which contained a great variety of vague and inconsistent -charges, were forwarded by the House of Lords to the King, who informed -them, that “he found several matters of fact charged, which upon his own -certain knowledge were untrue; and that the articles contained many -scandalous reflections upon himself and his family, which he looked upon -as libels against his person and government.” Upon a reference by the -House of Lords to the judges, they reported that “the whole charge did -not amount to treason though it were all true;” and upon this the -proceedings were abandoned. - -But it was at last the fate of Lord Clarendon to experience the -proverbial ingratitude of princes. From the period of the Restoration a -powerful union of discontented parties had gradually combined against -him. All hated him—the old cavaliers, because they thought he neglected -their just claims upon the bounty of the King; the papists and the -dissenters, because they found him an uncompromising opponent of all -concessions to those whom he regarded as enemies of the established -church; the licentious adherents of an unprincipled court, because his -honest endeavours to withdraw the King from his levity and profligacy to -serious considerations, thwarted their intentions and interrupted their -pleasures. Their united efforts erased from Charles’s mind the -recollection of services of no common value, and caused him to abandon -his best and most faithful counsellor, without having even the -appearance of a reason for his conduct, beyond what he called “the -Chancellor’s intolerable temper.” - -The Great Seal was taken from Lord Clarendon in August, 1667; and in the -month of November following, after an angry debate, he was impeached by -the Commons, in general terms, of high treason and other crimes and -misdemeanors; but the Lords, upon the impeachment being carried up, -refused to commit him, or to sequester him from parliament, on the -ground of the generality of the charge. Before the formal articles of -impeachment were prepared, Lord Clarendon left England, in consequence -of repeated messages from the King advising him to take that course, -having previously addressed to the Lords a vindication of his conduct. -Immediately after his departure a bill was introduced into the House of -Lords, and rapidly passed, by which he was condemned to perpetual -banishment, and declared to be for ever incapable of bearing any public -office or employment in England. - -The charges made against Lord Clarendon at this time were scarcely less -multifarious and inconsistent than those which were instituted by Lord -Bristol a few years before. He was accused of designing to govern by a -standing army,—of accusing the King of popery,—of receiving bribes for -patents,—of selling offices,—of _acquiring a greater estate than he -could lawfully have gained in a short time_,—of advising the sale of -Dunkirk to the French,—of causing Quo Warrantos to be issued against -corporations in order that he might receive fines on renewals of -charters, and many other particulars of alleged corruption. From most of -these accusations Lord Clarendon vindicated himself in an address -delivered to the House of Lords upon his departure; but during his -retirement at Montpellier, he prepared, and transmitted to his children -in England a fuller apology, in which he answered each article of the -charges objected to him by the Commons. - -After some hesitation, Lord Clarendon determined to reside at -Montpellier, where he arrived in July, 1668. He was treated with much -courtesy and respect by the governor of the city, as well as the French -and English inhabitants of all ranks. His first task was to write the -vindication of his conduct above-mentioned. During his retirement he -made himself master of French and Italian, and read the works of the -most eminent writers in both those languages. He also completed his -History of the Rebellion, and wrote an answer to Hobbes’s Leviathan, an -Historical Discourse on Papal Jurisdiction, a volume of Essays, divine, -moral, and political, and also those fragments of his Life, which were -first published by the University of Oxford in 1759. Engaged in these -pursuits he passed nearly three years at Montpellier in great -tranquillity and cheerfulness. He left that city in 1672, and went first -to Moulins, then to Rouen, where he died, December 9, 1673. His remains -were brought to England and interred in Westminster Abbey. - -The political conduct of Lord Clarendon, though variously described by -writers of opposite parties, appears to have been generally as -consistent and upright as can reasonably be expected from men of warm -tempers, deeply interested in the most violent civil dissensions. His -earliest impressions were decidedly in favour of the popular party; and -even after he had become familiar with Archbishop Laud, and was -favourably noticed by Charles I., he strenuously supported that party in -the removal of actual grievances, and resisted with zeal and energy the -encroachments of prerogative. That he afterwards refused to join in the -wild and intemperate actions committed by the Parliament, and supported -the royal cause against the continually increasing demands of those with -whom he had previously acted, is not to be ascribed to inconsistency in -his conduct, but to the development of designs and measures at all times -repugnant to his principles. His advice to Charles I. and to Laud was -always temperate and wise, and was given with boldness and candour. -After the Restoration, in the height of his power and influence, he -displayed the same moderation in his opinions and conduct, and acted -upon the same principles of dislike to fundamental changes, which had -influenced him as a member of the Long Parliament. It has been imputed -to Lord Clarendon that he neglected to exert himself for the relief of -those unfortunate cavaliers whose attachment to the King had involved -them in penury and ruin. It is difficult to ascertain the exact truth of -this charge; but, whether true or false, such an accusation was sure to -be made in a case where the applicants for compensation were numerous, -and the means of satisfying them inconsiderable. - -In the discharge of the legal functions of his office of Lord -Chancellor, as presiding in the Court of Chancery, he was by no means -distinguished; he promoted some reforms in the practice of his court, -and continued the judicious improvements effected during the -Commonwealth; but Evelyn says “he was no considerable lawyer,” and the -circumstance that he never decided a case without requiring the presence -of two judges is, if true, a sufficient acknowledgment of his judicial -incompetency. - -For his judicial appointments Lord Clarendon is entitled to unqualified -praise. Hale, Bridgeman, and other judges of the highest eminence for -learning and independence, were appointed by him immediately after the -Restoration, and contributed in a great degree to give stability and -moral strength to the new government, by the confidence which their -characters inspired in the due administration of the law. - -As an historian Lord Clarendon was unquestionably careless and inexact -to a surprising degree, which may in some measure be excused by the -necessity of writing very much from recollection; and he was a perpetual -advocate and partisan of the Royal cause, though by no means of most of -its supporters. But though his narration constantly betrays the bias of -party, and cannot therefore be safely relied upon for our historical -conclusions, his misrepresentations arise from the avowed partiality and -intense concern he feels for the cause he is advocating, and not from -any design to suppress or distort facts. His style is luxuriant and -undisciplined, and his expression in the narrative parts of his history -is diffuse and inaccurate; but his fervent loyalty and the warmth of his -attachment to his political friends have infused a richness of eloquence -into his delineations of character, which has perhaps never been -surpassed in any language. - -[Illustration] - - [Medal of Clarendon.] [Medal in Commemoration of the - Restoration.] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by J. Posselwhite._ - - SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - - _From a Picture by himself in his Majesty’s Collection._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - SIR J. REYNOLDS. - - -“Sir Joshua Reynolds,” says Burke, “was the first Englishman who added -the praise of the elegant arts to the other glories of his country.” -Without staying to inquire how far the literal truth of this assertion -may be affected by the priority in date of Wilson and Hogarth, not to -mention their less illustrious predecessors, it may safely be affirmed, -not only that Reynolds was the founder of the English school, but that -the most valuable qualities in the art of painting were almost lost -sight of throughout Europe when he began his career. In Holland, the -rich manner of Rembrandt, feebly sustained by his imitators, had been -succeeded by no less opposite a style than that of Vanderwerf; the still -more laboured finish of Denner, a native of Hamburgh, followed; while -the minute perfection which was in vogue found a more legitimate -application in the flower-pieces of Van Huysum. Reynolds was twenty-four -years old at the decease of Denner, who had twice visited London, and -had been much employed there. The French school about the middle of the -last century took its tone from Boucher, a name now almost forgotten, -and if remembered, synonymous with the extreme of affectation; he was -principal painter to Louis XV. The native country of Claude and Poussin -was indeed more illustrious during this time in the department of -landscape, as Vernet produced his views of sea-ports about the period -alluded to; but this example, however respectable, was itself indicative -of a declining taste, and the style of view-painting in the hands of the -foreign artists who practised it in Italy, with the Prussian Hackert at -their head, had the effect of extinguishing for a time all invention in -landscape. The academy at Berlin was under the direction of a Frenchman; -Oeser was the greatest name at Leipzic and Dresden; and the south of -Germany still imported imitations of the latest Italian styles in -fashion. The state of the arts in Spain may be judged of by the fact, -that when, in 1761, Mengs, who was himself a native of Germany, repaired -to Madrid in the service of Charles III., the chief painters established -there were a Venetian and a Neapolitan, Tiepolo and Corrado Giaquinto. -The Venetian school, sometimes entirely losing its original character, -seemed at least to maintain a consistent degeneracy in the styles of -Sebastian Ricci and the above-named Giambattista Tiepolo, both weak and -mannered imitators of Paul Veronese, but still preserving, at least the -latter, some brilliancy of colour and pleasing execution. With Tiepolo -the characteristic merits of the school seem however to have ceased -altogether: towards the latter part of the century, the chief employment -of the Venetian painters was the restoration of old pictures.[2] A -particular school was established in 1778 for this purpose, and a -description of the extraordinary labours of the artists is preserved in -the thirty-eighth volume of Goëthe’s works. In Rome, the talents of -Maratta and Sacchi, and “the great but abused powers of Pietro da -Cortona,” had been succeeded by feebler efforts, descending or -fluctuating through the styles of Cignani, Trevisani, and others, till -the time of Sebastian Conca, and Pompeo Battoni. The last-named was -approaching the zenith of his short-lived reputation, and almost without -a rival (for Mengs was as yet young, and Conca already aged), when -Reynolds visited Rome. - -Footnote 2: - - It is worthy of remark that about the same time the sculptors in Rome - were as exclusively employed in restoring antique statues. - -Laborious detail on the one hand, and empty facility on the other, -formed the distinguishing characteristics of these different schools; -but however opposite in execution, mind was alike wanting in both. -Denner may be considered the representative of the microscopic style; a -style, if it deserves the name, which he applied even to heads the size -of life; and as mere finish never was, and probably never will be -carried to a more absurd length, his name, though comparatively obscure, -marks an epoch in the art. The same scrupulous minuteness obtained about -the same time in landscape; among the view-painters, Hendrick Van Lint, -surnamed Studio, may be named as the most remarkable of his class. -Reynolds alludes to him in one of his discourses, as noted, when he knew -him in Rome, for copying every leaf of a tree. The opposite style, which -aimed at quantity and rapidity, was derived from the expert painters of -galleries and ceilings, called “Machinisti,” and more immediately from -Luca Giordano. Facility and despatch, at the expense of every solid -quality of art, were the characteristics of the school which was -represented in the earlier part of Reynolds’s career, principally by -Sebastian Conca in Italy, and by Corrado Giaquinto in Spain. - -The changes which took place in this state of things, towards the latter -part of the century, may be traced partly to the renewed appreciation of -the antique statues (a taste which, however beneficial to sculpture, had -an unfortunate influence on the sister art), and subsequently to -political circumstances. The fluctuations of taste, however deliberately -estimated by retrospective criticism, are indeed generally the result of -accident, and depend on causes but seldom derived from a just definition -of the nature and object of art. It appears, however, that Reynolds, -alone as he was, the founder rather than the follower of a school, -enjoyed the rare privilege of making the taste of his time instead of -being made by it; and although it would be absurd to suppose that he -could be independent of the accidents with which he was brought in -contact, it will not appear, upon a candid inquiry, that this great -artist was in any respect directly influenced by the practice of his -age. - -Joshua Reynolds was born at Plympton, near Plymouth, in Devonshire, July -16, 1723; he was the son of the Rev. Samuel Reynolds, who taught the -grammar school of Plympton. The young artist’s fondness for drawing -manifested itself early, and at eight years of age he had become so well -acquainted with the “Jesuits’ Perspective,” as to apply its principles -with some effect in a drawing of his father’s school, a building -elevated on stone pillars. Among other books connected with art to which -he had access, Richardson’s ‘Treatise on Painting’ had a powerful effect -in exciting his ambition. The earliest known picture he attempted is a -portrait of the Rev. Thomas Smart, who was the vicar of Maker, the -parish in which Mount Edgecumbe is situated. Reynolds, then a schoolboy -about twelve years of age, sketched the portrait of the vicar at church, -and afterwards copied it on canvass. This picture is now in the -possession of John Boger, Esq., of East Stonehouse near Plymouth. The -taste of the young painter becoming every day more decided, his father, -urged by the advice of some friends, placed him at the age of seventeen -as a pupil with Hudson, who had at that time the chief business in -portrait painting, although a very indifferent artist. In 1743 Reynolds -returned to Devonshire, in consequence of a disagreement with his -master, and set up as a portrait painter in the town of Plymouth Dock, -since called Devonport. He here painted various portraits, chiefly of -naval officers. One of these works, containing the portraits of Mr. and -Mrs. Eliot and family, is in the possession of the Earl of St. Germains. -The composition of this picture, the artist’s first attempt at a group, -approaches the pyramidal form, and Reynolds, after contemplating it when -finished, observed, ‘I see I must have read something about a pyramid, -for there it is.’ Six other pictures of the artist are preserved in the -same collection, at Port Eliot in Cornwall. An admirable picture of a -boy reading by a reflected light was also executed about this time. Many -interesting works of Reynolds, some of them belonging to his earlier -practice, are preserved in the immediate neighbourhood of Plymouth, in -the collections of the Earl of Morley, Mr. Pole Carew of Antony, Mr. -Rosdew of Beechwood, Mr. Lane of Coffleet, and others. The artist’s -early works, although sometimes carelessly drawn, are distinguished by -breadth of colour, by freedom of handling, and not unfrequently by great -truth of expression: in short, he seems to have contracted none of the -defects of Hudson, except, according to some of his biographers, a -certain stiffness and sameness in the attitudes of his portraits; -defects which he afterwards exchanged for such grace, spirit, and, above -all, endless variety, that it was said “his inventions will be the -future grammar of portrait painters.” The earliest portrait he painted -of himself is in the collection of Mr. Gwatkin of Plymouth, who married -a niece of Reynolds: the same gentleman also possesses the last portrait -of the artist by himself, together with many other interesting specimens -of his pencil. In 1747 Reynolds repaired again to London, and took -lodgings in St. Martin’s Lane, then and long afterwards the favourite -residence of artists. In 1749 he sailed to the Mediterranean, by the -invitation, and in the company of Captain (afterwards Lord) Keppel. -Reynolds spent two months in Minorca, where he painted several portraits -of military and naval officers, and proceeded thence, by way of Leghorn, -to Rome. - -He was fully alive to the sources of inspiration which this city of the -arts contained. In the midst of his enthusiasm, however, he was secretly -humiliated by discovering in himself an absence of all relish for the -grand works of Raffaelle in the Vatican. Richardson had inspired him -with the most exalted admiration of Raffaelle; and whatever may be -supposed, Reynolds could not be entirely unacquainted with the subjects -and designs of the works alluded to. Indeed, in some notes of his own -that have been preserved, he only confesses a feeling of disappointment, -and afterwards says, “In justice to myself, however, I must add, that -though disappointed and mortified at not finding myself enraptured with -the works of this great master, I did not for a moment conceive or -suppose that the name of Raffaelle, and these admirable paintings in -particular, owed their reputation to the ignorance and prejudice of -mankind: on the contrary, my not relishing them, as I was conscious I -ought to have done, was one of the most humiliating circumstances that -ever happened to me. I found myself in the midst of works executed upon -principles with which I was unacquainted; I felt my ignorance, and stood -abashed; all the indigested notions of painting which I had brought with -me from England, where art was in the lowest state it had ever been in -(indeed it could not be lower), were to be totally done away and -eradicated from my mind.” The union of candour and docility with good -sense, which the above account evinces, was the means of emancipating -Reynolds from the taste or fashion of the day. Instead of enrolling -himself among the scholars of Pompeo Battoni, as he was strongly -recommended to do before his departure from England by his kind patron -Lord Edgecumbe, he endeavoured during the practice of his art to -penetrate the principles on which the great works around him, -particularly those of Michael Angelo and Raffaelle, were produced. His -general theory will be found embodied in his writings, and if his -principles sometimes appear to be pushed too far, we may perhaps -attribute it to the wish to counteract certain prevailing errors among -his contemporaries. It is a general notion that, considering the -difference in style between the paintings of Reynolds and those of the -great models he professes to admire (Michael Angelo received his more -especial homage), he could not have been sincere in acknowledging so -thorough a conviction of their excellence. To decide fairly on this -difficult and often-discussed point, it is necessary to remember the -state of the arts when Reynolds formed his style. The great vice of the -age was a routine practice, seldom informed by any reference to the -general nature of the art, and as little remarkable for a just -discrimination of its various styles. In such a state of things it -cannot excite surprise that a sagacious and unprejudiced mind, in -endeavouring to retrace the leading principles of the art, should at the -same time see the necessity of modifying them in their application to a -particular, and in some respects a limited, department. As portrait -painting, the imitation of individuals, was to be Reynolds’s chief -occupation, it certainly did not occur to him that the abstract -representations of Michael Angelo, or even of Raffaelle, could be fit -models for him to follow, as far as execution was concerned. He saw -however that these masters were probably right even in this respect, -when the dignity and purity of their aim, and when subject, place, and -dimensions are duly considered. His imitation of them therefore began -when he endeavoured to define the end and object of the particular style -of art which he himself professed; and although he soon concluded that -it required a widely different treatment, he failed not to translate, if -we may so say, the causes of the grandeur he admired into the language -which belonged to his own department. What he considered the distinctive -and desirable requisites of portrait painting to consist in, may be best -learnt from his own works. In the first place, the more delicate -refinements of colouring and chiaro-scuro, by no means essential in the -grander and more abstract department of the art, are indispensable where -the imitation is confined to a single and generally a defective person. -It is thus that Rembrandt made up the _sum_ of beauty by the -fascinations of gradation and contrast, while the forms he had to deal -with were often of the most ordinary description. The just imitation of -the colour of flesh, the most beautiful and at the same time the most -nameless hue in nature, has ever been considered the triumph of -imitative art, and confers value and dignity on the _work_ wherever it -is fully accomplished. Again, it must be remembered that the domain of -expression begins with the accidents of form; that it belongs to and -often recommends individuality and redeems deformity; and that its vivid -interest is to be sought less in the abstract personifications of -Michael Angelo, far less in the higher region of beauty which the Greeks -justly placed above the atmosphere of the passions, than in the -varieties of accidental nature. Reynolds seized on the delicacies of -expression as strictly harmonizing with the individual forms he had to -copy: and, while thus adding a charm to his class of art, he became at -the same time the abler portrait painter; for the character and -expression of the individual are the chief points which are demanded. -Lastly, the conduct and execution of his pictures were in strict -conformity with the same principles, and may be said to have been -dictated by the largest view of the nature and means of the art. - -In his works the attention is always attracted by the important objects, -or diverted from them, when diverted, only to conceal the artifice which -thus commands the eye of the spectator. It is evident that the general -degree of completeness will depend on that of the principal object; and -assuming that Reynolds’s style of painting a head was sufficiently -elaborate (it is generally less so than Vandyck’s), the _unfinish_ of -the accessories could hardly be otherwise than it is, consistently with -due subordination. The truth of this consistency of style was ultimately -acknowledged, and although so opposite from what had before been in -fashion, and so different in many respects from what the vulgar admire, -the pictures of Reynolds soon won the favour of the public. If the -admiration of his works had any ill effect, it was that it tended to -produce an imitation of the same mode rather than of the same -consistency. - -On his return to England in 1752, which has been somewhat anticipated in -the foregoing remarks on his style, Reynolds repaired to his native -county, and painted one or two pictures at Plymouth: perhaps the -earliest of the fine portraits of Mr. Zachary Mudge, Vicar of St. -Andrews, was one of these. He returned to London accompanied by his -sister Frances. For a short time he again occupied lodgings in St. -Martin’s Lane, and produced there the portrait of Giuseppe Marchi, an -Italian whom he had brought home as an assistant. This picture, which -was in the style of Rembrandt, attracted general admiration; and when -his former master Hudson saw it, he exclaimed, stung with jealousy, -“Reynolds, you don’t paint so well as when you left England!” Soon after -this, in consequence of his increased fame and employment, Reynolds took -a house in Great Newport Street, where he resided for some years. The -whole length portrait of Admiral Keppel was the next work of importance -which he produced: it exhibited such powers that it completely -established the fame of the artist, and he was generally acknowledged to -be the greatest painter England had seen since the time of Vandyck. From -this period his career was one of uninterrupted success and improvement; -for his reputation was never greater than at the close of his laborious -life. The detraction which such extraordinary merit soon excited was -compelled to vent itself in attempting to undervalue the department of -art in which he excelled: in consequence of these insinuations, a -defence of portrait painting, from the pen of Dr. Johnson, appeared in -the forty-fifth number of the Idler. Johnson in that essay, after all, -only proved that portrait painting is interesting to a _few_—that in the -hands of Reynolds it was “employed in diffusing friendship, in renewing -tenderness, in quickening the affections of the absent, and continuing -the presence of the dead.” Reynolds himself, however, without forgetting -these important prerogatives, evidently took a more extended view of the -matter; he seems early to have felt that the chief difficulty of -portrait painting (a difficulty perhaps greater than any in the other -branches of art) is to make the representation _generally_ interesting. -It is quite obvious that this end can only be attained (especially as -beauty of form is not always at command) by a high degree of perfection -in all that constitutes the charm of art; for no interest that attaches -itself to the individual pourtrayed, however celebrated, can be so -universal or so independently intelligible as that which arises from a -large and true imitation of nature, to which all are more or less alive. -The perfection of art as applicable to portrait painting, was therefore -Reynolds’s great object, and it was only in subservience to this that he -ventured to introduce what in his hands might be considered a novelty in -this department. That novelty was the historic air he often gave his -portraits, by happy allusions to some important circumstance in the life -of the individual. His consummate knowledge of effect enabled him to do -this by means which never interfere with the mere portrait, a difficulty -which had been in a great measure evaded by preceding painters. It will -be remembered that in most of the portraits even of Titian and Vandyck -the attention is literally confined to the individual pourtrayed (after -all, the subject of the picture), and it was not lightly or -inconsiderately that Reynolds occasionally departed from this judicious -practice. If ever a painter could depend on the mere character and -expression of his heads, to say nothing of the charm of their execution, -Reynolds undoubtedly would have been secure of the public approbation on -those grounds alone; and it was only where historic interest happened to -coincide or to interfere but little with picturesque effect, that he -ventured on the additions alluded to. A better instance perhaps cannot -be given than the portrait of Lord Heathfield (celebrated for his -defence of Gibraltar), in the National Gallery; in the background of -which a cannon pointed downwards indicates, by its angle of depression, -the elevation of the spot where the veteran stands, grasping the keys of -the fortress which he defended so bravely. In his allegorical portraits, -such as Garrick between Tragedy and Comedy, Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic -Muse, &c., Reynolds encountered a much greater difficulty, and it may be -questioned whether any painter who has yet appeared would have succeeded -better. The mixture of real and imaginary beings, of individual and -abstract personifications, the treatment of which would seem to require -so different a style, was so managed by Reynolds as to satisfy, in this -respect, the most fastidious taste. The secret of the greatness of his -style in these subjects, and indeed in most of his portraits, is to be -sought in his colouring, the idea of which is large and general; and -under its dignified influence the individuality of forms and locality of -dress are rendered with all sufficient fidelity without offending. It is -thus we find in many Venetian, Flemish, and Dutch pictures, where the -subject and forms are most homely, an air of refined taste, and even of -grandeur, which seems unaccountable, till we discover that the colouring -is true to the largest idea of nature; and thus, to a certain extent, -the art is raised by raising its characteristic quality. In short, to -return to the question of his imitation of Michael Angelo, we should -find that, keeping the main requisites and attainable excellences of -portrait painting in view, Reynolds contrived to infuse into it as much -elevation as was calculated to improve it without injuring its -character; and when we find that he applied this even to execution, and -that his breadth of manner, his disdain of non-essentials, is evidently -inspired by the same feeling, we shall no longer wonder at his -admiration of the highest style of art, or doubt the sincerity of his -recorded professions on the subject. The very _indirectness_ of his -imitation, in which the whole mystery lies, so sure a proof of his -having penetrated the principle of the great master, establishes his -claim to originality as well as to consummate judgment and taste. - -In 1768 the Royal Academy was instituted, and Mr. Reynolds, holding -unquestionably the first rank in his profession, was elected President. -On his elevation to this office he received the honour of knighthood. As -President he delivered to the students and professors those celebrated -discourses, which have reflected so much lustre on his name. Their -excellence in a theoretical point of view, the elegance of their -composition, and on the other hand the apparent contradictions they -sometimes contain, have been the theme of frequent observation and -discussion. The other writings of Sir Joshua are the ‘Tour to Flanders -and Holland,’ consisting of notes on the paintings seen by him in those -countries in the year 1781; ‘Notes on Du Fresnoy’s Poem;’ and three -papers in the Idler. Among the last, the Essay on Beauty was not so -original as is generally supposed, the same theory having been -previously promulgated by the Père Buffier in his ‘Cours des Sciences -par des principes nouveaux. Paris, 1732.’ Among the historical and -mythological pictures produced by Sir Joshua, that of the Infant -Hercules strangling the Serpents, executed in 1786 for the Empress of -Russia, is one of the most considerable: it is pretty closely copied, as -to invention and composition, from a description of an antique painting -of the same subject in Philostratus. This work, so different from the -taste of the Russian painters and connoisseurs, was long treated with -neglect; but in consequence of the enquiries of English travellers it -has lately been cleaned, and placed in the gallery of the Hermitage. It -is said to be in a fine state of preservation, and one of the best works -of Reynolds. The celebrated picture of Ugolino was produced by an -accidental circumstance. The subject was suggested to Sir Joshua by -Goldsmith, or, according to others, by Burke, who was struck with the -expression of an old emaciated head, among the unfinished studies of the -painter, and observed that it corresponded exactly with Dante’s -description of Count Ugolino. The head was inserted in a larger canvas, -and the rest of the composition added. For the Shakspeare Gallery Sir -Joshua painted three pictures,—the Death of Cardinal Beaufort, the -Cauldron Scene in Macbeth, and Puck from Midsummer Night’s Dream. The -designs for the window of the New College Chapel in Oxford are among the -finest of his sacred compositions. - -In 1789, finding his eyesight begin to fail, Sir Joshua was compelled to -give up the practice of his art. In December, 1790, he pronounced his -farewell Address at the Royal Academy, and on that occasion repeated and -confirmed, as with his dying voice, his admiration of Michael Angelo. -His infirmities confined him much during the short remaining portion of -his life, and he died at his house in Leicester Fields, February 23, -1792. He was buried in the crypt of the cathedral of St. Paul, near the -tomb of Sir Christopher Wren. The honours of his funeral, as may be -imagined, corresponded with his justly-earned fame; and the day after -his death a well-known eulogium by Burke appeared in the public papers, -so characteristic both of the writer and the great artist to whose -memory it was dedicated, that it was called the panegyric of Apelles, -pronounced by Pericles. It concludes thus:—“His talents of every kind, -powerful from nature, and not meanly cultivated by letters, his social -virtues in all the relations and all the habitudes of life, rendered him -the centre of a very great and unparalleled variety of agreeable -societies, which will be dissipated by his death. He had too much merit -not to excite some jealousy, too much innocence to provoke any enmity. -The loss of no man of his time can be felt with more sincere, general, -and unmixed sorrow.” - -For a list of the pictures of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and ample details of -his life, the memoir of him by Northcote, who had been his scholar, may -be consulted; as well as the accounts prefixed to the various editions -of his literary works; and that by Allan Cunningham, in his Lives of the -most eminent British Painters, Sculptors, and Architects. - -[Illustration: [Sketch for the picture of Mr. Eliot and his family.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by B. Holl._ - - SWIFT. - - _From the Picture in the Bodleian Library, Oxford._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - SWIFT. - - -Jonathan Swift, by an account in his own handwriting, was the son of an -attorney in the city of Dublin. He was born in 1667. Some doubt has been -felt concerning his origin, in consequence of his own angry or -capricious declaration, when out of humour with Ireland,—“I am not of -this vile country; I am an Englishman;” and Sir William Temple has been -said to be his real father. This piece of scandal, however, is disproved -by circumstances of time and place. Swift was placed at Trinity College, -Dublin, at the age of fourteen. Whether through idleness, or contempt of -the prescribed studies, at the end of four years he could only obtain -his Bachelor’s degree _speciali gratiâ_; a term denoting want of merit. -This disgrace so affected him, that for the following seven years he -studied eight hours a day. In 1688 Sir William Temple, whose lady was -related to Swift’s mother, took him under his protection, and paid the -expenses of his residence at Oxford for a Master’s degree. On quitting -that University, Swift lived with Temple as his domestic companion. To a -long illness contracted during this period in consequence of a surfeit -he ascribed that frequently recurring giddiness which annoyed him -through life, and sent him to the grave deprived of reason. - -While under Sir William Temple’s roof, Swift rendered material -assistance in the revision of his patron’s works, and corrected and -improved his own ‘Tale of a Tub,’ which had been sketched out previously -to his quitting Dublin. It was published in 1704. He never avowed -himself its author; but he did not deny it when Archbishop Sharpe and -the Duchess of Somerset, according to some accounts, showed it to Queen -Anne, and thereby debarred him from a bishopric. From Temple’s -conversation Swift much increased his political knowledge; and his early -impressions were naturally in favour of the Whigs: but he suspected his -patron of neglecting to provide for him, from a desire of retaining his -services. This produced a quarrel, and the friends parted in 1694. Swift -took orders, and obtained a prebend in the north of Ireland; but at -Temple’s earnest request he soon resigned that preferment, and returned -to England. A sincere reconciliation took place, and they lived together -in the utmost harmony till Sir William’s death in 1699. Swift, in -testimony of his esteem, wrote ‘The Battle of the Books,’ of which his -friend is the hero; and Temple by his will left him a legacy in money, -and the profit as well as care of his posthumous works. Swift had -indulged hopes, not without good reason, of being well provided for in -the English church, through Temple’s interest. Failing in these hopes, -he accepted the post of private secretary and chaplain to the Earl of -Berkeley, on the appointment of that nobleman to be one of the Lords -Justices of Ireland. By this new patron he seems to have been ill used. -He was soon displaced from his post, on the plea of its unfitness for a -clergyman. He was then promised the rich deanery of Derry; but that -preferment was bestowed on another person, and Swift could only procure -the livings of Laracor and Rathbeggin, which together did not amount to -more than half the value of the deanery. During his residence at -Laracor, he performed the duties of a parish priest with punctuality and -devotion, notwithstanding some occasional sallies of no very decorous or -well-timed humour, which coupled with the suspicions founded on the -anonymous ‘Tale of a Tub,’ fixed on him an imputation of insincerity in -his Christian profession, from which the opinion of posterity seems to -have absolved him. - -During his incumbency at Laracor, he invited to Ireland a lady with whom -he became acquainted while with Sir William Temple. She was the daughter -of Temple’s steward, whose name was Johnson. About the year 1701, at the -age of eighteen, she went to Ireland, to reside near Swift, accompanied -by Mrs. Dingley, a lady fifteen years older than herself. Miss Johnson -was Swift’s celebrated Stella. Whether Swift’s first impulse in giving -this invitation had a view to marriage, or the cultivation of friendship -only, is uncertain. His whole conduct with respect to women was most -mysterious: apparently highly capricious, and, whatever might be its -secret motive, utterly unwarrantable. The reason assigned by the two -ladies for transferring their residence to Ireland was, “that the -interest of money was higher than in England, and provisions cheap.” -Every possible precaution was taken to prevent scandal: Swift and Miss -Johnson did not live together, nor were they ever known to meet except -in presence of a third person. Owing to this scrupulous prudence, the -lady’s fame, during fifteen years, was never questioned, nor was her -society avoided by the most scrupulous. In 1716 they were privately -married, but with no change in their mode of life: she never lodged in -the Deanery, except during those fits of giddiness and approaching -mental aberration, during which a woman, then of middle age, might -venture without breach of decorum to nurse an elderly man. - -In 1701 Swift had published his ‘Dissensions in Athens and Rome;’ his -first political work, in behalf of King William and his ministers, -against the violent proceedings of the House of Commons. According to -Lord Orrery, from that year to 1708 he did not write any political -pamphlet; but he made frequent journeys to England during the whole of -Queen Anne’s reign. Between 1708 and 1710 he changed his politics, -worked hard against the Whigs among whom he had been educated, and -plunged into political controversy, with a view to open the road to -power for the Tories. The year 1710 produced the ‘Examiner,’ of which he -wrote thirty-three papers. In that year commenced his acquaintance with -Harley, who introduced him to St. John and the rest of the ministers. At -this period he dined every Saturday at Harley’s, with the Lord Keeper, -Mr. Secretary St. John, and Lord Rivers, to the exclusion of all other -persons. He may, therefore, be considered at this time as the -confidential friend of the ministry, and almost a member of their -cabinet. The company was afterwards enlarged to sixteen, including -Swift; all men of the first class in society. He now put forth all his -strength in support of the Tory party, in pamphlets, periodical papers, -and political poems. Amidst all this political agitation, he wrote down -the occurrences of every day, whether consisting of conferences with -ministers, or quarrels with his own servant, in a regular journal to -Stella. - -In 1712, ten days before the meeting of parliament, he published a -pamphlet, entitled ‘The Conduct of the Allies,’ to facilitate peace, on -which the stability, almost the personal safety of the ministers, seemed -to depend. He professes that this piece cost him much pains, and no -writer was ever more successful. A sale of eleven thousand copies in two -months was in those days unprecedented: the Tory members in both houses -drew their arguments from it, and the resolutions of parliament were -little more than a string of quotations. During that year and the next -he continued to exert himself with unwearied diligence. In 1713 he -carried to the then latest date the first sketch of the ‘History of the -last four Years of Queen Anne.’ Lord Bolingbroke, when called on for his -opinion, was sincere enough to speak of it as “a seasonable pamphlet for -the administration, but a dishonour to just history.” Swift himself was -proud of it, but professed his willingness to sacrifice it to his -friend’s opinion. It was, however, published, but with no addition to -the author’s fame. - -The Queen is said to have intended to promote him to a bishopric; but -the story is involved in obscurity. That Archbishop Sharpe had dissuaded -her from so doing by representing his belief in Christianity as -questionable, is not ascertained by any satisfactory evidence; but -whether that were so or not, Johnson’s suggestion seems probable, that -the difficulty arose from those clerical supporters of the ministry, -“who were not yet reconciled to the author of the ‘Tale of a Tub,’ and -would not, without much discontent and indignation, have borne to see -him installed in an English cathedral.” The deanery of St. Patrick, in -Dublin, was therefore offered to him, and he accepted it. With high -pretensions to independent equality with the ministers, and a -disinterested support of their measures, it cannot be doubted that he -viewed this Irish preferment as a sentence of exile, and was bitterly -disappointed. But his temper was too intractable to submit to play the -part of a courtier; and it is probable that his English friends were not -ill pleased to promote him to competence and dignity at a distance. His -feelings are characteristically expressed in one of his letters: “I use -the ministry like dogs, because I expect they will use me so. I never -knew a ministry do anything for those whom they made companions of their -pleasures; but I care not.” - -He had indeed little reason to rejoice at first in the land where his -lot had fallen: on his arrival in Ireland to take possession of his -deanery, he found the country under the strongest excitement of party -violence. The populace looked on him as a Jacobite, and threw stones at -him as he walked the streets. His chapter received him with reluctance, -and thwarted him in whatever he proposed. Ordinary talents and firmness -must have sunk under such general hostility. But the revolutions of the -Dean’s life were strange; and he, who began with the hatred of the Irish -mob, lived to govern them with the authority of a despot. - -He had not been in Ireland more than a fortnight when he returned to -England for the purpose of attempting, but in vain, a reconciliation -between the Lords Oxford and Bolingbroke. While in England, he wrote his -‘Free Thoughts on the Present State of Affairs.’ He was probably still -watching the issues of time or chance; but the Queen’s death sealed his -political and clerical doom, and he returned to Ireland. To the interval -between 1714 and 1720 Lord Orrery ascribes ‘Gulliver’s Travels.’ His -mind was at this time much engrossed by a remarkable circumstance. He -had formed an intimacy in England with the family of a Dutch merchant, -named Vanhomrigh. The eldest daughter, strangely enough, became -enamoured of Swift’s mind, for it could not be of a most homely person, -nearly fifty years of age. She proposed marriage: this he declined, and -wrote his poem of ‘Cadenus and Vanessa’ on the occasion. On her mother’s -death, the young lady and her sister followed him to Ireland; the -intercourse was continued, and the proposal renewed on her part. This it -was absolutely necessary to decline, as the Dean was already married; -but he lived with Stella on the same distant footing as before, and was -reluctant either to inflict pain, or to forego his own pleasure, by an -avowal of the insuperable obstacle. Vanessa continued to receive his -visits, but so guardedly as not absolutely to forfeit her good name. She -became however more and more urgent; and peremptorily pressed him to -accept or reject her as his wife. Failing to obtain a direct answer, she -addressed a note to Miss Johnson, desiring to know whether she were -married to him, or not. Stella sent this note to Swift, who in a -paroxysm of anger rode to Vanessa’s house, threw a paper containing her -own note on the table, and quitted her without a word. This blow she did -not survive many weeks. She died in 1723, having first cancelled a will -in the Dean’s favour. - -Vanessa by will ordered her correspondence with Swift to be published, -as well as ‘Cadenus and Vanessa,’ in which he had proclaimed her -excellence and confessed his love. The letters were suppressed; the poem -was published. This, whether meant as an apology for herself, or as a -posthumous triumph over her more successful rival, occasioned a great -shock and distress both to Stella and the Dean. It is said that at -length, probably as a softening to the mortification incident to the -public discovery of his passion for Vanessa, he desired that Stella -might be publicly owned as his wife; but her health was rapidly -declining. She said, perhaps petulantly, “It is too late,” and insisted -that they should continue to live as before. To this the Dean consented, -and allowed her to dispose of her fortune, by her own name, in public -charity. She died in 1727. - -By Stella’s death Swift’s happiness was deeply affected. He became by -degrees more misanthropic, and ungovernable in temper; and more miserly -in his personal habits, while at the same time he devoted to charity a -large part, it is said one-third, of his income. In 1736 his deafness -and giddiness became alarming, and his mental powers gradually declined. -In 1741 his friends found it necessary that guardians should be -appointed over his person and estate. In 1742 his reason was entirely -overthrown; he became lethargic and, except at short intervals, -speechless. On the 30th of November his housekeeper told him that the -customary preparations were making to celebrate his birthday: he found -words to answer, “It is all folly; they had better let it alone.” He -died the latter end of October, 1745; in his seventy-eighth year. With -the exception of some few legacies, he left his fortune, amounting to -about twelve thousand pounds, to the building of an hospital for idiots -and lunatics. - -The extent and variety of Swift’s writings render it necessary to -confine our notice to two or three of his most curious productions. Of -the ‘Tale of a Tub,’ which, being regarded as an attack upon all -religion, brought down a weight of censure on the author, against which -he protested in the preface to a later edition, Dr. Johnson says that -“it has little resemblance to his other pieces. It exhibits a vehemence -and rapidity of mind, a copiousness of images, and vivacity of diction, -such as he afterwards never possessed or never exerted. It is a mode so -distinct and peculiar, that it must be considered by itself; what is -true of that is not true of anything else which he has written. In his -other works is found an equable tenor of easy language, which rather -trickles than flows.” - -‘Gulliver’s Travels’ are now probably better known to the public than -any other of his productions. That work is a moral and political -romance, exhibiting a wonderful specimen of irregular genius. Not only -are human actions placed in the most unfavourable light, but human -nature itself is libelled. His wayward temper and his ill-concealed -disappointment had put him out of conceit with the world; misanthropy -had made some inroad into his heart, and, with his pen in his hand, he -indulged in the expression of it with affected exaggeration. But however -offensive to good feeling the satire might be, the imagination and wit -which pervade this extraordinary work will always attract some readers, -while the simple, circumstantial air of truth with which such -extravagant fictions are related is a source of amusement to less -refined tastes. - -Neither are the ‘Drapier’s Letters,’ written in 1724, less remarkable, -although the temporary nature of the subject has divested them of all -interest, except as samples of the powers of his mind and the character -of his style. Lord Orrery calls them “those brazen monuments of his -fame.” A patent had been taken out by one Wood for a copper coinage for -Ireland, to the amount of one hundred and eighty thousand pounds in -halfpence and farthings, by which the projector, at least as was alleged -by the opponents of the ministry, would have gained exorbitant profit, -and the nation would of course have incurred proportionate loss. The -Dean, in the character of a Drapier, wrote a series of letters, exposing -the folly and mischief of giving gold and silver for a debased coin -probably not worth a third of its nominal value. He urged the people to -refuse this copper money; and the nation acted on the Drapier’s advice. -The government took the alarm at this seditious resistance to the King’s -patent, and offered three hundred pounds reward for the discovery of the -author of the fourth letter; but his precautions were so well taken, and -his popularity so universal, that, though known to be the author, the -proclamation failed to touch him. The popular indignation rose to such a -height that Wood was compelled to withdraw his patent, and the base -money was totally suppressed. From this time forward the Dean, who at -his first arrival in Ireland had been most unpopular, possessed -unlimited influence; he was consulted on all measures of domestic -policy; persons of all ranks either courted or feared him; national -gratitude was expressed by all ranks in their various ways; the Drapier -was a toast at every convivial meeting, and the sign of his head insured -custom to an ale-house. - -His letters are remarkable for the pure English of their style: there is -little of solid information to be derived from them; but the most -trifling anecdotes of distinguished men find ready acceptation with a -large class of readers. - -As a poet, in the higher sense of the word, we rank Swift’s claims to -honour very humbly. But he possessed uncommon power of correct, easy, -and familiar versification; which, with his racy vein of humour, will -secure him admirers among those who can pardon his offensive grossness. - -Delany, an Irishman to the backbone, gives the following character of -him: “No man ever deserved better of any country, than Swift did of his; -a steady, persevering, inflexible friend; a wise, a watchful, and a -faithful counsellor, under many severe trials and bitter persecutions, -to the manifest hazard both of his liberty and fortune.” With respect to -his conversation and private economy some particulars may be worth -mentioning. His rule never to speak more than a minute at a time, and to -wait for others to take up the conversation, it were well if professed -talkers would adopt. He excelled in telling a story, but told the same -too often; an infirmity which grew on him, as it does on others, in -advancing life. He was churlish to his servants, but in the main a kind -and generous master. He was unceremonious and overbearing, sometimes -brutal; but in company which he respected, not coarse, although his -politeness was in a form peculiar to himself. He considered wealth as -the pledge of independence; but his frugality towards the close of his -life amounted to avarice. As we have represented some features of his -character in no very amiable light, we will conclude with an anecdote -which shows the kindly portion of his nature to advantage. In the high -tide of his influence, he was often rallied by the ministers for never -coming to them without a Whig in his sleeve: whatever might have been -his expectations from the unsolicited gratitude of his party, he never -pressed his own claims personally; but he often solicited favours from -Lord Oxford in behalf of Addison, Congreve, Rowe, and Steele. Personal -merit rather than political principles directed his choice of friends. -His intimacy with Addison was formed when they used to meet at the -parties of Lord Halifax or Lord Somers, who were leaders of the Whigs; -but it continued unabated when the Tories had gained the ascendency. - -Swift’s works have gone through many editions in various forms. The -latest and best is that of Sir Walter Scott. That man must be considered -fortunate in his biographers, of whom memoirs have been handed down, -with more or less detail, by Lord Orrery, Dr. Delany, Dr. Hawkesworth, -Dr. Sheridan, Dr. Johnson, and Sir W. Scott. - -[Illustration: [Gulliver in Lilliput, from a Design by Stothard.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by J. Posselwhite._ - - LOCKE. - - _From the original Picture by Sir G. Kneller in the Hall of Christ - Church, Oxford._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - LOCKE. - - -John Locke was born August 29, 1632, at Wrington, a village of -Somersetshire, about eight miles from Bristol. He was the eldest of two -sons of John Locke, a man of some property, who had been bred to the -law, but became afterwards a captain under Cromwell. In those turbulent -times he met with losses which diminished his fortune, and he left an -inconsiderable inheritance to his son. Locke received his education at -Westminster School, and Christ Church, Oxford. While an undergraduate he -was chosen to write a welcome on the occasion of a visit which Cromwell -paid to that University, just after the conclusion of his peace with the -Dutch. This he did in a laudatory copy of verses in English and Latin, -comparing the great Protector to Julius for warlike, and to Augustus for -peaceful, accomplishments. This and some Latin verses, prefixed to a -work of Sydenham’s, are Locke’s only poetical attempts. There is little -merit in either. He was a great admirer of the meagre verse of Sir -Richard Blackmore, which is no great evidence of his poetical taste. -Between the degrees of Bachelor and Master of Arts he was elected -Student of his college. From that time he applied himself diligently, -for many years, to the study of medicine, without, however, practising -it as a matter of gain. The weakness of his health probably gave this -turn to his thoughts: his brother died of consumption; and he himself -was apprehensive through life of falling a victim to the same disease. -In 1664 he went abroad as secretary to Sir W. Swan, envoy to the court -of Brandenburg; and on his return to Oxford the year following, he -applied himself to the discovery of the effects of the air on the human -frame. His first work, published in 1667, was a register of the -variations in the atmosphere, determined between certain periods by the -common instruments, as a supplement to a work by Boyle. - -He was amusing himself with such enquiries, when one of the slight but -important accidents of life brought him an acquaintance, whose influence -determined his future course. A friend, being obliged to take a journey, -desired Locke to make his excuses to Lord Ashley (afterwards Earl of -Shaftesbury) for not having procured for him some mineral waters against -his arrival in Oxford. When Lord Ashley did arrive, Locke carried this -message to him. They were mutually pleased with each other, and this -acquaintance speedily grew up into a strict friendship. Locke’s advice -determined Lord Ashley to submit to a surgical operation, by which, it -is said, the life of the patient was saved; and he was received into the -house, and practised his profession in the family and amongst a few -private friends of his noble patron. While living in this way, his -thoughts were turned into the channel of politics by the advice of his -new associates; and, taking up that study earnestly, he was soon able to -advise and assist Ashley in all his plans of state, becoming at the same -time the referee of his private affairs. This warm friendship is -singular, considering the purity of Locke’s life, and the notoriously -bad character, public and private, of his noble patron. But the latter -was an eloquent orator, and an admirable talker; and it was probably -this latter quality which attached Locke so much. He had so great an -esteem for good conversation, as to give it a first place in the -formation of a man’s mind, calling books the raw material, and social -talk, with meditation, the true architects of our mental constructions. -In 1668 Locke attended the Earl and Countess of Northumberland to -France. But some accident caused him soon to return to his old residence -with Shaftesbury, for whom he drew up the fundamental laws of Carolina, -which had just been granted to him and other lords. Two of the articles -of this settlement gave great offence to the clergy, and were expunged. -They are remarkable, and should be mentioned. One was, “That no man that -doth not acknowledge a God, and that God publicly worshipped, should be -a freeman or inhabitant of Carolina.” The other was a proposition, that -any seven persons agreeing in a form of worship should be esteemed a -church, and be supported by the state. The Church of England, however, -was alone established in that colony. In 1671 Locke began to form his -great Essay on the Human Understanding; but his engagements with -Shaftesbury prevented its immediate completion. The year following, his -patron becoming Chancellor, Locke was made secretary of presentations, -which office he speedily lost on the partial disgrace of the Earl, who, -still remaining President of the Board of Trade, appointed him secretary -to a commission of inquiry into the state of trade, and the colonial -plantations. This office he also lost in the same manner, upon Lord -Shaftesbury’s total disgrace in 1674. - -Having retained his studentship, Locke then retired to Oxford, partly -for his health’s sake, and partly to pursue his old medical studies. He -took the degree of Bachelor of Medicine in this year. It appears that he -continued to pay some attention to these studies until an advanced age: -for in 1697 he communicated to the Royal Society the history of a -curious case which he had seen at the great hospital of La Charité, -during his residence in Paris. In 1675, in hope of obtaining relief from -an asthmatical complaint, he went to Montpellier. There was also another -reason for this journey. He had just published an anonymous pamphlet for -Shaftesbury, blaming the conduct of the House of Lords in the matter of -the Test Act, containing a vehement abuse of the bishops, and of what he -called their favourite doctrine, “the divine right” of kings and -priests. This pamphlet does not appear in the folio edition of his -works; it was anonymous, like most of his other productions. The odium -consequent upon it made his absence from England expedient, if not -necessary. During his stay abroad Locke kept a journal of what he saw, -did, and thought. In it we find the heads of many of his future works, -which are very concise and valuable; but the narrative is dry, and the -attempts at humour not very successful: he seems however to have been as -observant of what relates to the external world, as he was of the -intellectual. In 1679, Shaftesbury, on being made President of the -Council, summoned Locke to England. But the old statesman’s favour was -short lived: he was committed to the Tower in July, 1681, and soon after -his release, retired to Holland, where he died in January, 1683. Locke -accompanied him, and continued his faithful services until death. For -seventeen years he had been Shaftesbury’s constant partizan and adviser; -and the odium attached to that nobleman clung to himself, and prevented -his return to England for many years. In 1683 he was reported by the -English envoy at the Hague to be on terms of intimacy with the -malcontents in Holland; upon which the secretary (Sunderland) wrote to -Dr. Fell, the Dean of Christ Church, ordering his expulsion from -college. This mandate was not immediately complied with: the Dean -declared that for many years he had watched the conduct of Locke, and -even tried to entrap him into an exposure of his political sentiments, -but had always found him too wary. He allowed Locke time to come and -defend himself, which he would not do, and then expelled him from his -studentship. - -On the accession of James II., William Penn, the quaker of Pennsylvania, -being in some favour with the King, would have procured a pardon for -Locke, but he refused the offer, through a friend, as having been guilty -of no crime. In May, 1685, the English ambassador demanded him of the -States-General, of the pretext that he was concerned in the unsuccessful -expedition of the Duke of Monmouth. It is supposed that he owed this bad -turn partly to the malice of the envoy himself, as his name did not -appear in the list of those required which was sent from England. He -neither liked the person nor the invasion of the duke, and was at -Utrecht when the armament of that unfortunate nobleman sailed from the -Texel. Locke was not given up, but was obliged to hide himself for about -a year in the house of his friend M. Veen, at Amsterdam, receiving -assurance from the local authorities that timely warning should be given -him of pressing danger. He was obliged to conceal himself so closely as -only to take his exercise during the night. It is probable that the real -cause of this persecution was his first letter on Toleration, written in -Latin about this time, and addressed to his friend Limborch, the -sentiments of which were peculiarly offensive to the English court. - -Locke had now time to attend to his own affairs, being no longer taken -up with those of a patron. He busied himself in the completion of his -Essay concerning Human Understanding, which was not, however, printed -till 1689. The extracting of passages from various works for reviewal in -Le Clerc’s literary journal, the Bibliothèque Universelle, the formation -and continuation of a small society for the weekly discussion of all -subjects, the members of which were his friends Le Clerc, Limborch, -Guenelon, and others, and the abridgment of his Essay, served to fill up -his time during the remainder of his stay in Holland. In 1689 he -published a second letter on Toleration, and early in the same year -returned to his native country in the fleet which conducted the Princess -of Orange to the throne of England. The Revolution had completely -changed the face of affairs in Locke’s favour; he was considered a -martyr to its principles, and was esteemed accordingly by its authors. -On his return he immediately petitioned William to cause him to be -reinstated in his studentship; but the College refused to restore him, -offering at the same time to make him a supernumerary student. This he -would not accept; because he felt it not to be a full reparation of the -injustice he had suffered. He allowed the matter to drop. - -If Locke had been ambitious, his path to political advancement was now -open. William offered him the ambassadorship to the Imperial Court, or -to that of Brandenburg. He refused both these high appointments; but -accepted a Commissionership of Appeals from his friend Lord Mordaunt, -afterwards Earl of Peterborough. This office was worth only £200 a year. -His friends Sir Francis and Lady Masham (a daughter of the celebrated -Cudworth) prevailed on him to take apartments in their house at Oates in -Essex; between which place and his office in London he spent the -remainder of his life. In 1690 Locke published his Treatise on Civil -Government. The folio edition of his Essay, and a Letter on Education, -appeared in the latter part of the same year. In 1692 he produced a -third Letter on Toleration. The state of the coinage being a subject of -great importance at that time, he took it into consideration, and -published ‘Certain Thoughts on the State of English Silver Money, &c.,’ -in a letter to a member of parliament. This treatise was thought so -good, that when the matter was inquired into by the government, Locke -was consulted, and his advice taken with respect to the new coinage. In -consequence of this important assistance, he received from William III. -a Commissionership of Foreign Trade and Plantations, the value of which -was £1000 a year. The King was exceedingly desirous of a comprehension -with the dissenters, and to forward his views Locke wrote his -‘Reasonableness of Christianity.’ This book involved him in a religious -controversy with Dr. Edwards, who attacked its opinions in his ‘Socinian -Unmasked,’ to which Locke replied by two vindications, each of them -longer than the original work. No sooner had he finished this labour -than he was called upon to encounter a fresh and more able antagonist. -Toland and some other Unitarians having turned to their own use some of -the arguments in Locke’s Essay, Dr. Stillingfleet, the learned Bishop of -Worcester, confounded Locke with that party. In his defence of the -doctrine of the Trinity the Bishop severely censured various passages of -Locke’s great work, as tending to subvert some of the fundamental -doctrines of Christianity; Locke replied, and there was an alternation -of answers between them till the Bishop’s death. That event took place -soon after Locke’s third answer, which was the last thing he ever -published. These replies of Locke are reputed to be most finished -specimens of a grave and subtle irony, too refined perhaps to be -generally perceived by the uninitiated eye. - -In 1700 Locke’s weak state of health induced him to retire from public -life. He resigned his situation in a personal interview with the King, -giving no previous notice of his intention to the conductors of the -government, and refusing the pension which his master wished him to -accept. He took up his residence at Oates, where he passed the remainder -of his life in reading and contemplating the Scriptures. He often -regretted that he had not more occupied himself in this study. The piety -of his latter years was without formality or ostentation, not arising -from that sense of disappointment, or irksomeness for want of -employment, which often leads men to seek refuge in a late devotion. -Neither Locke’s mental nor bodily senses failed him to his last moments, -though the year before his death was passed in extreme weakness. On -taking the sacrament he declared “that he was in peace with all men, and -in sincere union with the Church of Christ, by whatever name -distinguished.” The affectionate attentions of Lady Masham softened the -pain of his last illness, and he died gently in his chair while she was -reading to him one of the Psalms of David, October 28, 1704, in his -seventy-third year. He died, unmarried, from the natural decay of an -originally weak constitution. He was buried in the churchyard at High -Laver, near Oates, under a decent monument. His epitaph had been written -some years before, by himself, in Latin[3]. He left behind him many -unpublished works, among which his ‘Conduct of the Understanding’ stands -highest. ‘An Examination of Malebranche’s opinion of seeing all things -in God; ‘A Discourse of Miracles;’ part of a fourth letter on the -subject of Toleration; some imperfect memorial sketches of the life of -the Earl of Shaftesbury; a new method for a commonplace-book; and -paraphrases of several of the epistles of St. Paul, make up the list of -his posthumous works, almost all of which were translated into French by -Le Clerc and others, and appeared (together with those published by -himself) in three folio volumes, not many years after his death. A great -many of his letters to his friends Molyneux and Limborch are also -published in this edition. There remain many more which have been given -to the world by various hands, addressed to the Earl of Peterborough, -Dr. Mapletoft, &c., and to Newton. In Lord King’s life of Locke his -correspondence with the latter is given at full length, and is very -curious,—chiefly relating to subjects they were both engaged in, the -prophecies and miracles. - -Footnote 3: - - “Siste, viator; juxta situs est J. L. Si qualis fuerit rogas, - mediocritate suâ contentum se vixisse respondet. Literis innutritus - eousque tantum profecit ut veritati unicà studeret. Hoc ex scriptis - illius disce; quæ, quod de eo reliquum est, majori fide tibi - exhibebunt, quam epitaphii suspecta elogia. Virtutis si quas habuit, - minores sane quam quas sibi laudi, tibi in exemplum proponeret. Vitia - una sepeliantur. Morum exemplum si quæras, in evangelio habes - (vitiorum utinam nusquam), mortalis certè quod prosit hic et ubique. - Natum . . . . Mortuum . . . . Memorat hac tabula brevi et ipsa - interitura.” - -That which has assured to Locke imperishable fame is the ‘Essay -concerning Human Understanding.’ This great work, however, met with -considerable obloquy at first: the heads of colleges at Oxford even -endeavoured to prevent its being read in their University. The Essay is -in the hands of all; the writings of its opponents, comparatively -speaking, are forgotten. It will be generally admitted, that in it Locke -laid the foundation of modern metaphysical philosophy. - -Two of Locke’s chief works, the ‘Treatise on Civil Government,’ and -‘Essay on Education,’ are more capable of a short analysis. The former -may be taken as an expression of his own opinions in defence of the -Revolution. It is divided into two parts. The first contains an exposure -of the fallacies of Sir Robert Filmer’s ‘Patriarcha,’ arguing that Adam -had not such natural or gifted right of dominion as Filmer pretends; -that if he had, his heirs had not; that if they had, yet there is no -general law, divine or human, which determines the right of succession, -much less of bearing rule; lastly, that if such right had been -determined, yet the eldest line from Adam being unknown, no man can -pretend more than another to that right of inheritance; consequently, -that some other source of political power must be found than “Adam’s -private dominion and paternal jurisdiction.” Locke proceeds in the -second part to declare his opinion as to what this other source may be. -He argues, that originally the executive power was in the hands of each -individual; but, by mutual consent, for mutual benefit, as men grew into -societies, political power was created, and given to persons chosen from -the whole body by the major part of such societies. He protests against -absolute power, as not expressing the will of the majority; but defends -prerogative, as a discretionary power lodged in the hands of the -executive government. He maintains that this compact must be held -sacred, but reverts to the society if its duration was declared -temporary, or upon the misconduct of rulers or delegates. When -forfeited, the will of the society may create new forms of government; -or, under the old form, continue it in other hands. - -The Essay on Education is expressly for the use of gentlemen, since “if -that class be properly tended the rest will follow of course.” The -child, he says, should have much air and exercise, should be accustomed -to little sleep and early habits. That superstitious terrors, and the -frequent use of the rod should be carefully avoided; that the boy should -be used to suffer pain gradually, to harden him, but not as a -punishment; that the parents’ authority should be perfect over the -child, and be gradually taken off, till the relation between them -becomes a confiding friendship; that particular attention be paid to his -manners, so that his courage, learning, wit, plainness, and good-nature, -do not turn to brutality, pedantry, buffoonery, rusticity, and fawning. -He says, that the child’s curiosity should be encouraged; that he should -learn by games, and his attainments never be forced; that he should not -be left to flounder in difficulties, but helped through them. Locke -prefers a careful tutor to a public school: he says that a boy stands a -better chance of being both virtuous and well-bred under the care of the -former. What he should know is Latin, Greek, a little mathematics, how -to keep accounts; the less of logic the better; he should write a good -hand; and a virtuous youth so bred, “one may turn loose into the world -with great assurance that he will find employment and esteem -everywhere.” He further recommends that the boy should travel between -the ages of eight and sixteen, rather than between sixteen and twenty -one; and that when he comes of age he had better not marry according to -the usual custom, but wait some years, that his children “may not tread -too closely on his heels.” - -The habit of Locke’s mind was perhaps originally severe; but from -constant social intercourse with men of all characters and opinions, was -rendered mild and equable. Nothing seems to have provoked him into a -loss of temper so much as being forced into argument with professed -logicians. He calls the logical method taught at Oxford an ill, if not -the worst way of acquiring knowledge and seeking truth. He was fond of -the society of children, and would enter into the enjoyments of riper -youth with facility. He was entrusted by his patron with the education -and marriage of his son, who was the father of the author of the -‘Characteristics.’ The latter nobleman (the third Earl of Shaftesbury) -owed much to Locke’s care, and was his eulogist. - -Locke was of a cautious if not timid disposition. This appears from many -of his letters, and may be inferred from the anonymous publication of -most of his writings. His weak health, the political persecution to -which he was exposed during great part of his life, and the discipline -to which he was subjected in childhood, which was strict and severe, in -some measure account for this failing. His friendships were very steady; -witness his close adherence to his patron Shaftesbury. Sydenham’s -contemporary and friendly character of Locke is remarkable: he says, in -a prefatory letter to one of his works, that “if we consider his genius, -his penetrating and exact judgment, and the strictness of his morals, he -has scarcely any superior, and few equals now living.” - -[Illustration: [Reverse of a French Medal of Locke.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by Rob^t. Hart._ - - SELDEN. - - _From a Picture attributed to Sir Peter Lely in the Bodleian Library, - Oxford._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - SELDEN. - - -John Selden was born at Salvington, a hamlet of Tarring, near Worthing, -in the county of Sussex, December 16, 1584 (O.S.). His father, according -to Wood, “was a sufficient plebeian,” who, through some skill in music, -obtained as his wife Margaret Baker, a daughter of a knightly family of -the county of Kent. The baptism of his eminent son, as well as his own -musical talents, are noticed in an existing parish registry in these -words: “1584.—Johnne, sonne of John Selden, the minstrell, was baptised -the XXX^{th} day of December.” The house in which the family lived was -called Lacies, and the estate of the father consisted, in 1606, of -eighty-one acres, of the annual value of about twenty-three pounds. John -Selden, the son, received his early education at the Free Grammar-School -of Chichester. At the age of fourteen he entered at Hart Hall, Oxford. -After residing four years at the University, he was admitted, in 1602, a -member of Clifford’s Inn, one of the dependencies of the greater inns of -court, in which students of law were formerly accustomed to commence -their legal education. He removed in May, 1604, to the Inner Temple. His -attention appears to have been early drawn to the study of civil and -legal history, and antiquities; he did not court the more active -business of his profession, and his employment at the bar was limited. -In 1607, he prepared for the press his first work, entitled ‘Analectωn -Anglo-Britannicωn,’ being a collection of civil and ecclesiastical -matters relating to Britain, of a date anterior to the Norman conquest. -This was soon followed by three other works of a similar character, and -in 1614 he printed his ‘Treatise upon Titles of Honour.’ The last of -these works has been considered in our courts of law to be of great -authority, and has been usually spoken of with much commendation. -Pursuing his legal inquiries, he edited, in 1616, two treatises, one of -Sir John Fortescue, the other of Sir Ralph Hengham, and in the same year -wrote a ‘Discourse on the Office of Lord Chancellor.’ In the next year -he printed a work, ‘De Diis Syris,’ which added to his celebrity, but is -not compiled with that attention to the value of the respective -authorities cited, so essentially necessary to the accurate -consideration of historical questions. His next work was a ‘History of -Tithes,’ printed in 1618, which excited against him the bitter hostility -of the clergy. The doctrine of divine right, as the foundation of many -ecclesiastical claims, was at this time jealously maintained, and was -considered to be peculiarly connected with the right of the clergy to -tithes. Selden drew no direct conclusion against the divine nature of -the right to tithes, but he had so arranged his authorities as to render -such a conclusion inevitable. The nature only of the title was -contested, and so far from the clergy having had any reason to look upon -Selden as an enemy, he in fact strengthened their claim to tithes by -placing it upon the same footing as any ordinary title to property. As -soon as the ‘History’ appeared it was attacked. The High Commission -Court summoned Selden before it, and to this tribunal he was compelled -to apologise. The terms of his submission very accurately state the -offence, and are expressive of regret that “he had offered any occasion -of argument against any right of maintenance _jure divino_ of the -ministers of the gospel.” The work received several answers, but Selden -was forbidden by James I., under a threat of imprisonment, to notice -them. “All that will,” said he, “have liberty, and some use it, to write -and preach what they will against me, to abuse my name, my person, my -profession, with as many falsehoods as they please, and my hands are -tied: I must not so much as answer their calumnies. I am so far from -writing more, that I have scarce ventured for my own safety so much as -to say they abuse me, though I know it.” - -Hardly had this storm passed, when he became involved in the disputes -between the Crown and the House of Commons. One of the earliest steps of -that body, upon the convocation of Parliament in 1621, was to present a -remonstrance on the state of public affairs. This was succeeded by the -memorable protestation of December 18, in which the liberty of the -subject was asserted, and the right of the Commons to offer advice to -the Crown was insisted on. This protestation was erased from the -journals of the House by the King’s own hands, and the parliament was -dissolved. Selden, whose advice, though he was not then a member, had -been requested by the House in this dispute, was in consequence -imprisoned, and detained in confinement five weeks. His release was -owing to the intercession of Bishop Williams, who represented him to be -“a man who hath excellent parts, which might be diverted from an -affectation of pleasing idle people to do some good and useful service -to his Majesty.” On his release, he dedicated to Williams his edition of -Eadmer’s contemporary ‘History of England, from the Norman Conquest to -the death of Henry I.,’ which he had prepared for the press during his -confinement. - -When the next parliament assembled in 1624, Selden sat in it as member -for the borough of Lancaster. Though nominated upon several committees, -he took no active share in the general business of the House. About this -time also he was appointed one of the readers of the Inner Temple; but -he refused the office, and was in consequence for some time disabled to -be advanced to the rank of a bencher of the inn. Upon the accession of -Charles I. a new parliament was called, in which Selden sat for the -borough of Great Bedwin. This parliament was almost immediately -dissolved, and another summoned, to which Selden was again returned for -the same borough as before. The Commons immediately entered upon a -consideration of the conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, and his -impeachment being resolved on, Selden was one of the members appointed -to prepare the articles, and was named a manager for their prosecution. -These proceedings were stopped by another dissolution of parliament in -June, 1626. But the necessities of the Crown requiring those supplies -which parliament refused without a redress of grievances, forced loans -were resorted to in the exercise of certain pretended owners of the -prerogative. In several instances these loans were refused; among others -by Sir Edward Hampden, who was imprisoned in consequence: and the -illegality of his commitment was very ably argued by Selden in the -King’s Bench. In the third parliament, called by Charles I. in 1628, -Selden sat for the borough of Ludgershall; and in the debates which -immediately took place upon illegal commitments, the levy of tonnage and -poundage, and the preparation of the Petition of Rights, he took a very -active share. The attack upon the Duke of Buckingham was renewed, and it -was proposed by Selden, that judgment should be demanded against him -upon the impeachment of the former parliament. As affecting a great -constitutional question, only finally determined in 1791, of the -continuance of impeachments, notwithstanding a dissolution of -parliament, the suggestion was remarkable. Further proceedings were, -however, stopped by the assassination of the Duke. - -During the prorogation of parliament, Selden again devoted himself to -literary pursuits. The Earl of Arundel, a great lover and promoter of -the arts, had received from the east many ancient marbles, having on -them Greek inscriptions. At the request of Sir Robert Cotton, these -inscriptions were transcribed under the superintendence of Selden, and -were published under the title of ‘Marmora Arundeliana.’ In January, -1629, parliament again assembled, and the debates upon public grievances -were renewed. The goods of several merchants, in the interval of the -meeting of parliament, had been seized by the Crown, to satisfy a claim -to the duty of tonnage and poundage. Among the sufferers was Rolls, a -member of the House. It was moved, that the seizure of his goods was a -breach of privilege. When the question was to be put, the Speaker said -“he durst not, for that the King had commanded to the contrary.” Selden -immediately rose, and vehemently complained of this conduct: “Dare you -not, Mr. Speaker, to put the question when we command you. If you will -not put it, we must sit still: thus, we shall never be able to do any -thing. They that come after you may say, that they have the King’s -commands not to do it. We sit here by the command of the King under the -great seal, and you are, by his Majesty, sitting in his royal chair -before both houses, appointed for our Speaker, and now refuse to do your -office.” The House then adjourned in a state of great excitement. When -it re-assembled, the Speaker was called upon to put the question, and -again refused. On this Holles and Valentine thrust the Speaker into the -chair, and held him down, while Sir Miles Hobart locked the door of the -house and took possession of the key. A declaration was then produced by -Sir John Elliot, which Colonel Stroud moved should be read, and himself -put the question. The motion was declared to be carried; and the -Speaker, refusing to act upon it, was charged by Sir P. Heyman with -cutting up the liberty of the subject by the roots. Selden moved that -the declaration should be read by the clerk, which was agreed to. The -House then adjourned to a day, previous to which the King came to the -House of Lords and dissolved the parliament, on account of “the -undutiful and seditious carriage of the Lower House,” without the -attendance of the Commons. Selden, and the other members concerned in -the violence offered to the Speaker, were committed to prison. This was -his last and most rigorous confinement. For some time he was denied the -use of pens, ink, paper, and books. When, after many weeks had elapsed, -he was brought up with the other prisoners before the King’s Bench upon -a writ of _habeas corpus_, their discharge was offered upon condition of -their finding bail for their good behaviour. “We demand,” said Selden, -“to be bailed in point of right; and if it be not grantable of right, we -do not demand it. But finding sureties for good behaviour is a point of -discretion merely, and we cannot assent to it without great offence to -the parliament where these matters, which are surmised by the return, -were acted.” They were remanded, and remained for a long time in prison, -where Elliot, one of the ablest members of the popular party, fell a -victim to his confinement. In 1634, Selden was suffered to go at large -upon bail, which was discontinued upon his petition to the Crown. During -his imprisonment he wrote a treatise, ‘De Successionibus in Bona -Defuncti ad Leges Ebræorum,’ and another, ‘De Successione in -Pontificatum Ebræorum.’ Both those works he dedicated to Archbishop -Laud; probably upon account of his being indebted to the Archbishop for -the loan of books. Not long after the recovery of his liberty, Selden -obtained the favour of Charles I., and dedicated to him his celebrated -essay on the ‘Mare Clausum,’ an argument in favour of the dominion of -the English over the four seas, copies of which were, by order of the -Privy Council, directed to be placed in the council chest, the Court of -Exchequer, and the Court of Admiralty. - -To the Long Parliament, which commenced its sittings in 1640, Selden was -unanimously returned by the University of Oxford; but neither this new -connexion with the clergy, nor the favour of Charles, appears to have -affected his opinions. Upon the first day of the sitting of parliament -he was nominated a member of the committee to inquire into the abuses of -the Earl Marshal’s Court, and was appointed with others to draw up a -remonstrance upon the state of the nation. He also sat upon the -committees which conducted the measures preparatory to the impeachment -of the Earl of Strafford, but he was not one of the managers before the -House of Lords; and his name was posted in Old Palace Yard as one of -“the enemies of justice,” a title given to those who were regarded as -favourable to the Earl. It is not very clear what his opinions upon the -impeachment were. That he should have been satisfied with all the steps -taken by his party is not possible, for his opinions were undoubtedly -moderate, and his studious habits must have checked any disposition to -violence. He was also nominated to frame the articles of impeachment -against Laud, and was a party to the resolutions against the legislative -powers of the bishops. The court, however, appears to have considered -him favourable to its interests, until he spoke against the commission -of array. Upon this question, Clarendon represents the influence of his -opinion upon the public to have been very prejudicial to Charles I. -About this time the great seal was offered to him. He declined it, -according to Clarendon, on account of his love of ease, and “that he -would not have made a journey to York or have been out of his own bed -for any preferment.” The reason which he himself assigned for refusing -it, was the impossibility of his rendering any service to the Crown. He -sat as member of the Assembly of Divines at Westminster, and took the -covenant; yet he was not well affected to the Puritans, and declared -that “he was neither mad enough nor fool enough to deserve the name of -Puritan.” Upon the death of Dr. Eden, Master of Trinity Hall, Cambridge, -in August, 1645, Selden was elected his successor, but declined to -accept the office. About this time he appears to have gradually -withdrawn from public business. His fondness of ease and his increasing -age, and the silence he preserved upon many important events, all -contribute to leave the inference of his approval or disapproval of much -of the conduct of the parliamentary leaders open to adverse parties. He -certainly never openly abandoned the popular side, nor does he appear to -have forfeited its respect; and yet at the same time he continued to be -esteemed by many of the leading Royalists. - -The studies of Selden were continued to the latest period of his life, -and he was near the age of seventy when his last work was published. The -influence he possessed with the parliamentary leaders was frequently -exerted in favour of letters. When Archbishop Laud’s endowment of the -professorship of Arabic in the University of Oxford, was seized, on the -attainder of that prelate, he procured its restitution. Archbishop Usher -having preached against the divines of Westminster, and excited their -anger, was punished by the confiscation of his library. Selden -interfered, and saved it from sale and dispersion. When prelacy was -abolished, the library attached to the see of Canterbury was by his -efforts transferred to the University of Cambridge, where it remained -until the Restoration. Through his entreaties, Whitelocke was induced to -accept the charge of the medals and books at St. James’s, and thus -secured their preservation. The services which he rendered to the -University of Oxford were no less valuable, and were acknowledged in -grateful terms by that learned body; and it was through his interference -that the papers and instruments of Graves, the Professor of Mathematics, -which had been seized by a party of soldiers, were restored. - -Selden died November 30, 1654, and was buried in the Temple church. He -left behind him no immediate relations, and he bequeathed nearly the -whole of his fortune, amounting to nearly 40,000_l._, to his four -executors, giving only one hundred pounds to each of the children of his -sister, the wife of John Barnard, of Goring. His books and manuscripts -he had originally given by his will to the University of Oxford; but -that body having demanded of him a heavy bond for the restitution of a -book which he desired to borrow from the public library, the bequest was -struck out, and they were directed to be placed “in some convenient -public library or college in one of the universities.” Sir M. Hale and -his other executors, considering that they were the executors “of his -will, and not of his passion,” transferred them to the Bodleian Library -at Oxford. - -To learned men Selden was liberal and generous; and there is a letter -from Casaubon in Parr’s ‘Life of Archbishop Usher,’ in which that -distinguished scholar with great feeling says, “I was with Mr. Selden -after I had been with your Grace, whom, upon some intimation of my -present condition and necessities, I found so noble, as that he did not -only presently furnish me with a very considerable sum of money, but was -so free and forward in his expressions, as that I could not find in my -heart to tell him much (somewhat I did) of my intention of selling, lest -it should sound as a farther pressing upon him of whom I had received so -much.” - -Milton terms Selden “the chief of learned men reputed in this land;” and -Whitelocke states, “that his mind was as great as his learning, being -very generous and hospitable.” Clarendon, who could not regard Selden -with any political partiality, though he had in early life been on terms -of intimacy with him, describes him to have been “a person whom no -character can flatter or transmit in any expressions equal to his merit -or virtue. He was of so stupendous learning in all kinds and in all -languages (as may appear in his excellent and transcendent writings), -that a man would have thought he had been entirely conversant among -books, and had never spent an hour but in reading and writing; yet his -humanity, courtesy, and affability were such, that he would have been -thought to have been bred in the best courts, but that his good nature, -charity, and delight in doing good, and in communicating all he knew, -exceeded that breeding.” - -The motto adopted by Selden was περὶ παντὸς τὴν ἐλευθερίαν (above all -things, liberty), and it is to be found neatly written upon the first -page of many of his MSS. Its spirit he extended to religious questions; -and there are many bold and vigorous passages in his writings in which -the necessity of freedom of inquiry upon all subjects is strongly -insisted on. Noticing upon one occasion a certain class of ancient -philosophers, he remarks, “He who takes to himself their liberty of -inquiry, is in the only way that, in all kinds of studies, leads and -lies open even to the sanctuary of truth; while others, that are servile -to common opinion and vulgar suppositions, can rarely hope to be -admitted nearer than into the base-court of her temple, which too -speciously often counterfeits her innermost sanctuary.” His religious -opinions have, with much impropriety, been the subject of dispute. They -have been chiefly inferred from several passages of a work published -after his death, entitled ‘Selden’s Table Talk.’ From the nature of his -studies, his writings are far from being popular, and are, in -consequence, now but little read. They obtained, however, for their -author, during an age abounding with illustrious and learned men, an -honourable reputation, among the most distinguished literary men of -continental Europe, as well as among those of his own country. His works -were edited by Dr. Wilkins, in 3 vols. folio, in 1726, to which a Latin -‘Life of the Author’ is prefixed. - -[Illustration: [Gallery of the Arundel Marbles.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. Holl._ - - A. PARÉ. - - _From the original Picture, in “L’École de Médecine,” at Paris._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - PARÉ. - - -Ambroise Paré, the father of French surgery, and one of the most useful -as well as the earliest of the innovators upon that art as practised by -the ancients, was born at Laval, in the district of Maine, in the year -1509. After going through the rudiments of education, he was placed at -an early age under the tuition of the chaplain Orsoy, in his native -town, to be instructed in the classics; but the means of his family -appear to have been very narrow, or the economy with which they were -supplied must have been strict; for we find that the worthy chaplain was -obliged to make use of the services of his pupil in grooming his mule -and other menial capacities, in order to eke out the scanty remuneration -he received for his instructions. In truth, these do not appear to have -been great; for Paré never achieved a knowledge of Greek, and was but -superficially acquainted with the Latin language; and it is probable -that even this small amount of classical acquirement was made at a late -period of his life, when, being an author, he wished to quote. - -On leaving his tutor, he was placed with a barber-surgeon at Laval, -named Vialot, who is recorded to have taught him how to bleed. Not long -after this change in his pursuits, the lithotomist, Laurent Colot, came -to Laval to undertake the treatment of one of the chaplain’s -ecclesiastical brethren: on this occasion, Paré was present, and -zealously assisted at the operation. This accidental circumstance -appears to have suggested to him the ambitious project of following the -higher departments of surgery; and he contrived to leave the shop of his -master in phlebotomy, and repaired to Paris, where he availed himself -with so much diligence of the advantages afforded by that city, as a -school of anatomy and medicine, that he was soon entrusted with the -subordinate charge of the patients of Goupil, who then held the surgical -chair in the college of France. From this discerning tutor he learned -not only all the knowledge which could at that time be obtained from -secondary sources, but the art of expressing himself well, and -acquitting himself of his duties with neatness and grace. The talents -thus acquired were of the greatest service to him in his after-life, -which was chiefly passed among the great; and gave him that ease of -manner and power of gaining confidence, which stood him so frequently in -stead as court-surgeon to four successive monarchs, and, aiding the -natural frankness of his character, carried him safely through many an -intrigue and cabal, dangerous not only to his reputation and fortunes, -but even to his life. He was never a member of the community of -barber-surgeons, but derived his legal qualification to practise from a -degree in surgery taken at the college of St. Edme, of which he was -afterwards Provost. - -Having passed upwards of three years as a student, residing actually -within the walls of the Hotel Dieu at Paris, he was appointed -Staff-surgeon, in 1536, when twenty-seven years old, to the Mareschal -René de Monte-jean, who commanded the infantry under the Constable -Montmorenci in the campaign of Piedmont. In this capacity, Paré was -present at the siege and capture of Turin. - -From this time is to be dated the commencement of his acquaintance with -military surgery, for which he afterwards did so much. “I was then,” he -says, “very raw and inexperienced, having never seen the treatment of -gunshot wounds. It is true that I had read in the Treatise of Jean de -Vigo on wounds in general, that those inflicted by fire-arms partake of -a poisonous nature on account of the powder, and that they should be -treated with hot oil of elder mixed with a little theriacum. Seeing, -therefore, that such an application must needs put the patient to -extreme pain, to assure myself before I should make use of this boiling -oil, I desired to see how it was employed by the other surgeons. I found -their method was to apply it, at the first dressing, as hot as possible, -within the wound with tents and setons: and this I made bold to do -likewise. At length my oil failed me, and I was fain to substitute a -digestive, made of the yolks of eggs, rose-oil, and turpentine. At night -I could not rest in my bed in peace, fearing that I should find the -wounded, in whose cases I had been compelled to abstain from using this -cautery, dead of poison: this apprehension made me rise very early in -the morning to visit them; but beyond all my hopes, I found those to -whom I had applied the digestive suffering little pain, and their wounds -free from inflammation; and they had been refreshed by sleep in the -night. On the contrary, I found those to whom the aforesaid oil had been -applied, feverish, in great pain, and with swelling and inflammation -round their wounds. I resolved, therefore, that I would never burn -unfortunate sufferers from gunshot in that cruel manner again.” - -Such was the casual origin of one of Paré’s greatest improvements in -surgery,—the substitution of a mild treatment for the cautery in gunshot -wounds; a principle which he afterwards successfully extended to other -injuries at that time deemed poisonous. The improvement seems as obvious -as it was important: yet the adherents of the old practice gave him much -trouble, and even made it necessary for him to defend his wholesome -innovation long afterwards before Charles IX. in person. - -Yet with all his sound sense, Ambroise Paré was not by any means free -from the credulity of his age. For instance, he relates, in his account -of this siege, an amusing story of the court he paid to an Italian quack -doctor, who lived at Turin, to wheedle him out of the secret of a -dressing for fresh gunshot wounds, for which he had great fame. This was -found to consist of a mixture of bruised worms, the grease of puppies -boiled down alive, and other absurd ingredients, constituting the -celebrated _oleum catellorum_, the only merit of which consists in its -harmlessness. He is erroneously praised by Dr. Ballingall for having -banished this unguent from practice, whereas, on the contrary, he -introduced it; and he shows, by his frequent reference to it in his -works, that he had no small faith in its virtues, and was exceedingly -proud of having been the means of its publication. - -The death of his patron, the Mareschal, soon after the fall of Turin, -induced him to return to Paris, though tempted by large offers to remain -in the camp. - -In 1543, he accompanied the Duc de Rohan into Britanny, where Francis I. -commanded in person against the English; and the next year he followed -that monarch in his expedition to throw supplies into Landrecy. In 1545, -he was with the camp at Boulogne, where he cured the general of the -royal army, Francis Duke of Guise, of a very dangerous wound, which -gained him great reputation. - -In 1552, he attended the Duc de Rohan in his campaign in Germany. During -this expedition occurred one of those instances of combined humanity and -skill, which made Paré the favourite of the French army. He thus tells -the story: “A party had gone out to attack a church, where the peasants -of the country had fortified themselves, hoping to get some provisions, -but they came back very soundly beaten; and one especially, a -captain-lieutenant of the company of the Duke, returned with seven -gashes in his head, the least of which had penetrated to the inner table -of the skull, besides four sabre wounds in the arm, and one across the -shoulder, which divided the shoulder-blade in half. When he was brought -to quarters, the Duke judged him to be so desperately wounded, that he -absolutely proposed, as they were to march by daylight, to dig a trench -for him, and throw him into it, saying, that it was as well that the -peasants should finish him. But being moved with pity, I told him (says -Paré), that the captain might yet be cured: many gentlemen of the -company joined with me in begging that he might be allowed to go with -the baggage, since I was willing to dress and cure him. This was -accordingly granted: I dressed him, and put him into a small -well-covered bed in a cart drawn by one horse. I was at once physician, -surgeon, apothecary, and cook to him; and, thank God, I did cure him in -the end, to the admiration of all the troops: and out of their first -booty, the men-at-arms gave me a crown a-piece, and the archers -half-a-crown each.” - -His reputation was now so high, that no expedition of importance, -especially if generalled by a prince of the blood, or one of the higher -nobility, was considered complete without his presence. This was -accordingly solicited by the old King of Navarre, more commonly called -the Duc de Vendôme, on an occasion of that kind. But being tired of a -military life, and disgusted with its cruelties and horrors, he -endeavoured to evade the proposal, alleging the illness of his wife, and -other excuses: but the Duke would take no denial; and at last he -consented to accompany him to the siege of Chateau le Comte. There he -acquitted himself so well, that upon the warm encomiums of the Duke he -was received into the service of Henry the Second, in 1552, being then -but thirty-three years old. From this time he lived at the court, where, -with other advantages, obtained not less by his behaviour and wit than -his skill, he enjoyed, though a Huguenot, the especial favour of the -Queen, Catherine de’ Medici, who was fond of conversing with him in her -own language, with which Paré had become well acquainted in his Italian -campaign. She served him powerfully on several important occasions. - -Paré, however, still continued to frequent the camp, when any emergency -seemed to demand his services. Such an occasion occurred at the renowned -siege of Metz, in the winter of 1552, conducted by Charles V. in person, -with the Duke of Alva and 120,000 men, against a garrison of 6000, which -ended, after two months, in the disastrous retreat of the besiegers. The -defence was most gallantly carried on by the flower of the French army, -headed by many of the higher noblesse, and several of the princes of the -blood, under the Duke of Guise. It has been already mentioned that -gunshot wounds were at that time thought to have something poisonous -about them; and the severe cold, and other circumstances of that siege, -being such as unusually to depress and harass the garrison, their wounds -proved almost uniformly fatal; and the idea arose and gained ground, -that Charles had ordered his bullets to be actually poisoned. Paré alone -was thought able to meet the necessity of the case in such an extremity; -and the demand for his assistance became so pressing in the dispirited -garrison, that at the instance of the Duke of Guise the King was induced -to send him. He was stealthily introduced by the treachery of one of -Charles’s captains, for a bribe of 1500 crowns, and his appearance on -the ramparts was hailed by the troops with the most extravagant -expressions of joy. “Now that Paré is with us,” they cried, “we shall -not perish of our wounds.” Their spirits revived, and the successful -issue of their arduous struggle is generally ascribed to the presence of -Paré. - -Upon the raising of the siege, of which, as is usual in his writings, he -gives a most lively and humorous account, Paré returned to court. In -1553 he was sent on a like errand to the siege of Hesdin, which, after a -vigorous defence, and against the faith of a capitulation, was pillaged -by the troops of the Duke of Savoy. Paré was himself one of the -prisoners, but escaped in disguise after various adventures, and -returned to Paris; notwithstanding the tempting offers of the Duke of -Savoy, who had witnessed his skill, though kept in ignorance of his -name. - -He was sent upon many other missions of the same kind; as to the fields -of St. Quentin and Moncontour; to Rouen, where he attended the Duc de -Vendôme on occasion of the wound of which he died; and to St. Denys, -where he performed the same unwelcome duty for the Constable. The long -intervals of these services he always passed at court, in the enjoyment -of his well-earned reputation and favour. - -On the death of Henry II. in 1559, occasioned by an accident at a -tournament, Francis II., his eldest son by Catherine de’ Medici, -succeeded to the crown. He immediately confirmed Paré in his situation -of surgeon in ordinary and counsellor. It will not be supposed that he -could enjoy this constant favour and good fortune without the usual -drawback in the excited jealousy of his professional rivals. Their -rancour was at length carried to such a pitch, that they gravely accused -him of causing the premature death of Francis in 1560, by injecting -poison into his ear under the pretext of treating him for an -inflammation seated there, of which he died. Catherine, however, -shielded him from this attack, expressing her complete reliance on his -integrity as well as his skill, in words which the historians of the -period have preserved. A similar accusation was brought against him as -unsuccessfully in the case of Henry III., who was afflicted with the -same disorder: on which occasion the Queen-Mother again stood forward in -his behalf, and his innocence was fully attested by the physicians whom -she had placed about her son, and who had witnessed every application he -made. - -On the death of Francis II. in 1560, Paré maintained his place in the -household of Charles IX., to whom it was thought he had rendered -essential service after an injury inflicted on one of the nerves of the -arm by an unlucky phlebotomist. This misfortune of his humbler brother -was of great use to Paré, who, though a courtier during the predominance -of the Guises, openly professed the Protestant faith; for it was -probably the means of procuring him in Charles the only protector -powerful enough to save him from being included in the general massacre -of the Huguenots on St. Bartholomew’s Day. Brantôme and Sully each -connect his name with that event. The words of the former are as -follows: “Le Roi quand il fût jour, ayant mis la tête a la fenêtre de sa -chambre, et qu’il voyait aucuns dans le fauxbourg St. Germain qui se -remuoient, et se sauvoient, il prit une grande arquebuse de chasse qu’il -avoit, et en tira tout plein de coups à eux; mais en vain, car -l’arquebuse ne tiroit si loin; incessamment crioit, ‘Tuez, tuez,’ en -n’en vouloit sauver aucun si non Maître Ambroise Paré, son premier -chirurgien, et le premier de la Chrestienté, et l’envoya querir et venir -le soir dans sa chambre et garde robbe, commandant de n’en bouger; et -disoit qu’il n’etoit raisonnable qu’un qui pouvoit servir à tout un -petit monde, fûst ainsi massacré.” - -“De tous ceux,” says Sully, “qui approchoient ce prince (Charles IX.) il -n’y avoit personne qui eut tant de part à sa confiance qu’ Ambroise -Paré. Cet homme qui n’etoit que son chirurgien, avoit pris avec lui une -si grande familiarité, quoiqu’il fût Huguenot, que ce prince lui ayant -dit le jour du massacre que c’etoit à cette heure qu’il falloit que tout -le monde se fît catholique, Paré lui répondit sans s’étonner, ‘Par la -lumière de Dieu, Sire, je crois qu’il vous souvient m’avoir promis de ne -me commander jamais quatre choses; sçavoir, de rentre dans le ventre de -ma mère, de me trouver à un jour de bataille, de quitter votre service, -et d’aller à la messe.’” - -Paré still retained his situation after the accession of Henry III. in -1574; but he seems to have resigned the cares of active life about that -time, and we hear little more of him. He died December 2, 1590, in the -eighty-first year of his life, and was buried in the church of St. André -des Arcs in Paris. - -Paré appears to have been a man of quick and independent observation -rather than of reflection or genius. His constitution was vigorous, and -fitted no less for social enjoyments than active business: his person -was manly and graceful, his spirits buoyant, and his disposition -remarkably amiable and attractive; hence he was a universal favourite, -particularly in a despotic court, of which the dullness was agreeably -relieved by his frankness, and his powers of humour and repartee. The -amusing and well-told anecdotes and lively descriptions that teem in all -his writings, which, it may be observed, are equal in point of style to -any of the time, sufficiently attest his possession of those qualities, -even if the stories and bon-mots that are related of him be questioned. -His ‘Apology,’ as he calls one of his later pieces, containing an -account of his various campaigns and journeys, is full of humour, and -well worth the perusal of the general reader. It was published by way of -answer to an attack upon his treatment of contused wounds and -hæmorrhages, made by an obscure Parisian lecturer, whose name he does -not mention; and he diverts himself exceedingly at the expense of the -critic, for his presumption in pretending to teach a surgeon whose -experience had been gathered from twenty sieges and fields of battle, -through an active professional life of forty years. The raillery he -employs is often very keen and pointed, but never ill-natured, and -indicates the infinite superiority he felt, and had a right to feel, -over his merely book-learned adversary. - -His conduct throughout life appears to have been remarkably upright and -sincere, though tinctured by the adulation which, in that age of -violence and despotism, was always exacted by the great from those who -were more humbly born. - -He was a bold and good operator, and his general skill and success in -the practice of his profession is unquestionable; in that day it must -have been wonderful. As a surgical writer, his fame principally rests -upon his introduction of a soothing method of treating gunshot and other -contused wounds, and his discovery or rather restoration of the method -of arresting hæmorrhage, by the ligature of the bleeding vessel, instead -of searing with hot iron, and other insufficient and painful means. But -he made many other novel and useful remarks which only do not deserve -the name of discoveries, because they relate to more trivial points, and -do not involve important principles: and, upon the whole, much as -surgery has been improved since his time, there have been few writers to -whom it has owed so much as to him, especially in the military -department. The whole body of his writings on that subject, though -diffuse, merit the perusal of professional men. The same praise cannot -be given without exception and reserve to those of his writings which -were less the records of his personal experience, than compilations from -other sources. His remarks upon the subjects of Physiology, Medical -Diseases, the Composition of Remedies, Natural History, and Obstetrics, -are not free from error, credulity, and even indelicacy. The latter -charge was successfully urged against him by the contemporary Parisian -physicians, who were jealous of his encroachments upon what they -considered their own domain, and he was obliged to alter the original -editions. - -He was too much occupied by his practice to engage deeply in the study -of anatomy: hence his knowledge of it was rather sufficient than -accurate; and though he wrote upon it at some length, and even added new -facts to that science, his success in advancing it can only be -considered as a proof of the imperfect information of the time. He lived -before the discovery of the circulation of the blood. - -His first publication, on Gunshot Wounds, in 1545, was incorporated with -his other writings, comprising altogether twenty-six treatises, and -printed at Paris in one large folio volume in 1561. This, with some -posthumous additions, has been often reprinted, and there are -translations of it in Latin and other languages. The first English -edition was by Thomas Johnson in 1634. - -[Illustration: [Medal of Paré.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by J. Mollison._ - - ADMIRAL BLAKE. - - _From the Picture in the Hall of Wadham College, Oxford._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - BLAKE. - - -Robert Blake is believed to have been born at Plansfield, in the parish -of Spaxton, Somersetshire, near Bridgewater, in which town his father -was a merchant; but the place is not so well ascertained as the date of -his birth, which was August, 1598. He was educated in the Free School of -Bridgewater, whence in due time he removed to Oxford, and became -successively a member of St. Alban’s Hall and Wadham College. His -character was studious, yet he was fond of field-sports and other -violent exercises; and we may infer that he had at least a decent share -of scholastic learning, from his having been a candidate, though -unsuccessfully, for a studentship at Christchurch, and a fellowship at -Merton College. He returned to Bridgewater when about twenty-five years -old, and lived quietly on his paternal estate till 1640, with the -character of a blunt, bold man, of ready humour and fearless expression -of his sentiments, which, both in politics and religion, were adverse to -the pretensions of the court. These qualities gained for him the -confidence of the Presbyterian party in Bridgewater, by whom he was -returned to the parliament of April, 1640. The speedy dissolution of -that assembly gave him no opportunity of trying his powers as a debater; -and in the next parliament he was not re-elected. But on the breaking -out of the civil war, he displayed his principles by entering the -Parliamentary army. - -We have no certain information concerning the time or the capacity in -which he began to serve; but in 1643 we find him intrusted with the -command of a fort at Bristol, when the city was besieged by the -Royalists. Here his impetuous temper had nearly brought him to an -untimely death; for, having maintained his fort and killed some of the -king’s soldiers after the garrison had surrendered, Prince Rupert was -with difficulty induced to spare his life, which was held to have been -forfeited by this violation of the laws of war. Blake served afterwards -in the west of England with good repute, and in 1644 was appointed -Governor of Taunton, a place of great consequence, being the only -Parliamentary fortress in that quarter. In that capacity he -distinguished himself by the skill, courage, and constancy with which, -during two successive sieges, he maintained the town against the -Royalists in 1645; an important service, for which the parliament voted -£2000 to the garrison, and £500 to the governor. It is recorded that he -disapproved of the extremity to which matters were pushed against -Charles, and that he was frequently heard to say, that he would as -freely venture his life to save the King’s, as he had ever done it in -the service of the Parliament. - -In February, 1649, Colonel Blake, in conjunction with two officers of -the same rank, Deane and Popham, was appointed to command the fleet. It -may be taken as a proof that, notwithstanding the fame of our early -navigators, the King’s service at sea had never been treated with much -attention, that, down to later times than those of which we now write, -the chief command of a fleet seems never to have been given to a man of -naval education and habits. It is probable that the sea service then -held out no inducements strong enough to tempt men of high birth to -submit to its inconveniences, and that the command of a fleet was -esteemed too great a post to be conferred on a man of humble origin. For -this new employment Blake soon showed signal capacity. When the embers -of the war were stirred up after the King’s death, he was ordered to the -Irish seas in pursuit of Prince Rupert, whom he blockaded in the harbour -of Kinsale for several months. Despair of relief induced the Prince at -last to make a daring effort to break through the Parliamentary -squadron, in which he succeeded; but with the loss of three ships. Blake -pursued him to the Tagus, where being denied liberty to attack his enemy -by the King of Portugal, in revenge he captured and sent home a number -of ships richly laden, on their way from Brazil. In January, 1651, he -attacked and, with the exception of two ships, destroyed the Royalist -fleet, in the neutral harbour of Malaga; a breach of national law, which -can only be justified on the alleged ground that Rupert had destroyed -British ships in the same harbour. These services were recompensed by -the Parliament with the post of Warden of the Cinque Ports; and in March -an act was passed constituting Blake, with his colleagues Deane and -Popham, admirals and generals of the fleet for the year ensuing. In that -capacity, he took Jersey, Guernsey, and the Scilly Islands from the -Royalists; a service, for which he was again thanked by Parliament. In -this year he was elected a member of the Council of State. - -March 25, 1652, Blake was appointed sole admiral for nine months, in -expectation of a war with the Dutch. The United States and England were -at this time the two most powerful maritime countries in the world; and -it is hard to find any better reason than national rivalry for the -bloody war which broke out between them in the spring of this year; a -war which seems to have been begun on a point of etiquette, at the -discretion of the admirals, without orders for hostilities being known -to be given by the governments on either side. On May 18, a fleet of -forty-two Dutch ships, commanded by the celebrated Van Tromp, appeared -off the Goodwin Sands. Being challenged by Major Bourne, who commanded a -squadron in the Downs, they professed to have been driven from their -anchorage off Dunkirk by stress of weather; but instead of drawing off -the coast as they were required to do, they sailed to Dover and cast -anchor, in a manner which showed the deliberate design of insulting the -British flag. Blake lay some distance to the westward in Rye Bay. -Intelligence was immediately sent to him, and on his approach the Dutch -weighed anchor, and seemed about to retreat, but, changing their course, -they sailed direct for the English fleet. When within musket shot, Blake -ordered a single gun to be fired at the Dutch admiral’s flag, which was -done thrice. Van Tromp returned a broadside, and a hot and -well-contested action ensued, and was maintained till nightfall. Under -cover of the darkness the Dutch retreated, losing two ships (one sunk, -the other taken), and leaving the possession of the field and the honour -of the victory in the hands of the English. The States appear neither to -have authorised nor approved of the conduct of their admiral; for they -left no means untried to satisfy the English government; and when they -found the demands of the latter so high as to preclude accommodation, -they dismissed Van Tromp, and intrusted the command of their fleet to De -Ruyter and De Witt. Meanwhile, Blake’s activity was unremitting. He -gained a rich harvest of prizes among the Dutch homeward-bound -merchantmen, which were pursuing their way without suspicion of danger; -and when he had sent home forty good prizes and effectually cleared the -Channel, he sailed to the northward, dispersed the fleet engaged in the -herring fishery, and captured a hundred of the vessels composing it, -together with a squadron of twelve ships of war sent out to protect -them. The hostile fleets again came to an engagement, September 28, in -which the advantage was decidedly in favour of the English, the -rear-admiral of the Dutch being taken, and three or four of their ships -disabled. Night put an end to the action; and, though for two days the -English maintained the pursuit, the lightness and uncertainty of the -wind prevented them from closing with the enemy, who escaped into Goree. -After this battle the drafting off of detachments on various services -reduced the English fleet to forty sail, and those, it is said, in -consequence of the negligence or jealousy of the executive government, -were ill provided with men and ammunition, and other requisite supplies. -Thus weakly furnished, Blake lay in the Downs, when Van Tromp again -stood over to the English coast with eighty men-of-war. Of that -undaunted spirit which usually prompts the British seaman to refuse no -odds Blake had an ample share; indeed, he did much to infuse that spirit -into the service. But there are odds for which no spirit can make up, -and as he had a brave and skilful enemy, the result of his rashness was -that he was well beaten. Not more than half the ships on either side -were engaged; but out of this small number of English vessels two were -taken, and four destroyed; the rest were so shattered that they were -glad to run for shelter into the river Thames. The Dutch remained -masters of the narrow seas; and Van Tromp, in an idle bravado, sailed -through the Channel with a broom at his mast-head, as if he had swept it -clear of English ships. However, neither the admiral nor the nation were -of a temper to submit to this indignity; and great diligence having been -used in refitting and recruiting the fleet, Blake put to sea again in -February, 1653, with eighty ships. On the 18th he fell in with Van -Tromp, with nearly equal force, conducting a large convoy of merchantmen -up the Channel. A running battle ensued, which was continued during -three consecutive days, until, on the 20th, the Dutch ships, which, to -suit the nature of their coast, were built with a smaller draught of -water than the English, obtained shelter in the shallow waters of -Calais. In this long and obstinate fight, the Dutch lost only eleven -men-of-war and thirty merchant vessels; but the number killed is said to -have amounted to 1500 on either side; a loss of life of most unusual -amount in naval engagements. - -Another great battle took place on the 3rd and 4th of June, between Van -Tromp and Generals Deane and Monk. On the first day the Dutch seem to -have had somewhat the advantage: on the second Blake arrived with a -reinforcement of eighteen sail, which turned the scale in favour of the -English. Bad health obliged him then to quit the sea, so that he was not -present at the last great victory of July 29, in which Van Tromp was -killed. But out of respect for his services the Parliament presented him -with a gold chain, as well as the admirals who had actually commanded in -the battle. When Cromwell dissolved the Long Parliament, and assumed the -office of Protector, Blake, though in his principles a republican, did -not refuse to acknowledge the new administration. In conjunction with -Deane and Monk he published a declaration of their resolution, -“notwithstanding the late change, to proceed in the performance of their -duties, and the trust reposed in them against the enemies of the -Commonwealth.” He is reported to have said to his officers, “It is not -our business to mind state-affairs, but to keep foreigners from fooling -us.” He sat in the two first Parliaments summoned by the Protector, who -always treated him with great respect. Nor was Cromwell’s acknowledged -sagacity in the choice of men at fault, when he chose Blake to command a -strong fleet, sent into the Mediterranean in November, 1654, to uphold -the honour of the English flag, and to demand reparation for the slights -and injuries done to the nation during that stormy period of civil war, -when our own discord had made others daring against us. In better hands -such a mission could not have been placed. Dutch, French, and Spaniards -alike concurred in rendering unusual honours to his flag. The Duke of -Tuscany and the Order of Malta made compensation for injuries done to -the English commerce. The piratical states of Algiers and Tripoli were -terrified into submission, and promised to abstain from further -violence. The Dey of Tunis held out, confident in the strength of his -fortifications. “Here,” he said, “are our castles of Goletta and Porto -Ferino: do your worst; do you think we fear your fleet?” Blake took the -same course as, in our own time, Lord Exmouth did against Algiers: he -bore right into the bay of Porto Ferino; engaged the fortress within -musket shot, and in less than two hours silenced or dismounted its guns; -and sending a detachment of boats into the harbour, burnt the shipping -which lay there. After this example he found no more difficulty in -dealing with the African states. - -War having been declared between Spain and England, in 1656, Blake took -his station to blockade the bay of Cadiz. At this period his -constitution was much broken, insomuch that, in the expectation of a -speedy death, he sent home a request that some person proper to be his -successor might be joined in commission with him. General Montague was -accordingly sent out with a strong squadron. Being obliged to quit the -coast of Spain in September to obtain water for his fleet, Blake left -Captain Stayner with seven ships to watch the enemy. In this interval -the Spanish Plate fleet appeared. Stayner captured four ships richly -laden with bullion; the rest escaped. Montague conducted the prizes -home, so that Blake was again left alone in the Mediterranean. In the -ensuing spring, having learnt that another Plate fleet had put into the -island of Teneriffe, he sailed thither, and arrived in the road of Santa -Cruz, April 20. The bay was strongly fortified, with a formidable castle -at the entrance, and a connected chain of minor forts all round it. The -naval force collected there was also considerable, and strongly posted, -the smaller vessels being placed under the guns of the forts, the -galleons strongly moored with their broadsides to the sea; insomuch that -the Spanish Governor, a man of courage and ability, felt perfectly at -ease as to the security of his charge. The master of a Dutch ship, which -was lying in the harbour, was less satisfied, and went to the Governor -to request leave to quit the harbour; “For I am sure,” he said, “that -Blake will presently be among you.” The Governor made a confident reply. -“Begone if you will, and let Blake come if he dares.” Daring was the -last thing wanting; nor did the Admiral hesitate, as a wise man might -well have done, about the real difficulties of the enterprise in which -he was about to engage. The wind blowing into the bay, he sent in -Captain Stayner with a squadron to attack the shipping, placed others in -such a manner as to take off, and, as far as possible, to silence the -fire of the castle and the forts, and himself following, assisted -Stayner in capturing the galleons, which, though inferior in number, -were superior in size and force to the English ships. This was completed -by two o’clock in the afternoon, the engagement having commenced at -eight in the morning. Hopeless of being able to carry the prizes out of -the bay against an adverse wind, and a still active enemy, Blake gave -orders to burn them: and it is probable that he himself might have found -some difficulty in beating out of the bay under the fire of the castle, -which was still lively, when on a sudden, the wind which had blown -strong into the bay, suddenly veered round to the south-west, and -favoured his retreat, as it had favoured his daring approach. Of this, -the most remarkable, as it was the last exploit of Blake’s life, -Clarendon says, “The whole action was so incredible, that all men who -knew the place wondered that any sober man, with what courage soever -endowed, would ever have undertaken it; and they could hardly persuade -themselves to believe what they had done: while the Spaniards comforted -themselves with the belief, that they were devils and not men who had -destroyed them in such a manner. So much a strong resolution of bold and -courageous men can bring to pass, that no resistance or advantage of -ground can disappoint them; and it can hardly be imagined how small a -loss the English sustained in this unparalleled action, not one ship -being left behind, and the killed and wounded not exceeding two hundred -men; when the slaughter on board the Spanish ships and on shore was -incredible.” - -It will be recollected with interest that, on the same spot, Nelson lost -his arm, in an unsuccessful night-attempt to capture Santa Cruz with an -armed force in boats. - -For this service the thanks of Parliament were voted to the officers and -seamen engaged, with a diamond ring to the Admiral worth 500_l._ Blake -returned to his old station off Cadiz; but the increase of his -disorders, which were dropsy and scurvy, raised a desire in him to -return to England, which, however, he did not live to fulfil. He died as -he was entering Plymouth Sound, August 17, 1657. His body was -transported to London, and buried with great pomp in Westminster Abbey, -at the public expense. After the Revolution it was thought unworthy to -remain in that treasure-house of England’s departed greatness; and with -the bones of others who had found a resting-place there during the short -period of the Commonwealth, it was transferred to St. Margaret’s -churchyard. It has been disputed whether this was done with more or less -of indecency; but the matter is little worth inquiry. The real indecency -and folly lay in thinking that any ground, however sanctified by the -reverent associations of centuries, could be polluted by the tomb of a -man whose leading passion was the glory of his country, and who made the -name and flag of that country respected wheresoever he carried it: a man -of whom not one mean or interested action is recorded, and whose great -qualities extorted praise even from the Royalists. Bate, in his -‘Elenchus Motuum,’ speaks of him as a man “blameable in this only, that -he joined with the _parricides_;” and it may be remarked that Dr. Bate’s -horror of a parricide did not prevent his being physician to Cromwell, -as well as to Charles I. and II. - -We conclude with Clarendon’s character of this great man. “He was of -private extraction, yet had enough left him by his father to give him a -good education, which his own inclination disposed him to receive in the -University of Oxford, where he took the degree of a Master of Arts, and -was enough versed in books for a man who intended not to be of any -profession, having sufficient of his own to maintain him in the plenty -he affected, and having then no appearance of ambition to be a greater -man than he was. He was of a melancholic and sullen nature, and spent -his time most with good fellows, who liked his moroseness, and a freedom -he used in inveighing against the licence of the time and the power of -the court. They who knew him inwardly, discovered that he had an -anti-monarchical spirit, when few men thought the government in any -danger.” After a short sketch of Blake’s actions in the civil war, the -noble author continues, “He then betook himself wholly to the sea, and -quickly made himself signal there. He was the first man that declined -the old track, and made it manifest that the science might be attained -in less time than was imagined, and despised those rules which had long -been in practice, to keep his ship and his men out of danger; which had -been held in former times a point of great ability and circumspection, -as if the principal art requisite in the captain of a ship had been to -be sure to come safe home again. He was the first man who brought the -ships to contemn castles on shore, which had been thought ever very -formidable, and were discovered by him to make a noise only, and to -fright those who could be rarely hurt by them. He was the first who -infused that proportion of courage into the seamen, by making them see -by experience what mighty things they could do, if they were resolved, -and taught them to fight in fire as well as upon water, and though he -has been very well imitated and followed, he was the first that gave the -example of that kind of naval courage, and bold and resolute -achievements.” - -The earliest life of Blake which we have seen is in the second volume of -a collection entitled ‘Lives English and Foreign,’ published at the -beginning of the last century. Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion, -Heath’s Chronicle of the Civil Wars, the Memoirs of Ludlow, Whitelock, -and other contemporary authorities, will furnish minute accounts of the -many battles of which we have here only made short mention. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by R. Woodman._ - - L’HÔPITAL. - - _From the original by Janet, in the Musée Royal, Paris._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - L’HÔPITAL. - - -Michel de l’Hôpital was born at Aigueperse in Auvergne. The date of his -birth he himself declares, in his testament, to be uncertain, but at the -same time he refers it to the year 1505. His father was the domestic -physician, the faithful friend, and trusted counsellor of the Constable -of Bourbon, and still followed his patron’s fortunes, when that ill-used -and misguided prince took up arms against France in 1523. Michel de -l’Hôpital, then a student at the University of Toulouse, was arrested as -the son of one of Bourbon’s partizans; but after a short time he was set -at liberty by the express order of Francis I., and after the lapse of -two or three years was permitted to rejoin his father in Italy. He -completed his education during a residence of six years at the -celebrated University of Padua. Quitting that University with high -credit for his acquirements both in polite literature and legal -knowledge, he took up his abode at Rome with his father, and soon -obtained the favourable notice both of the Emperor Charles V. and the -French ambassador, Cardinal de Grammont. But preferring the hope of -re-establishment in his native country to the prospects of advancement -held out in a foreign land, he returned to France in the train of the -Cardinal; was present at the espousal of Catherine de Medici with the -Dauphin, afterwards Henry II., in 1583; and laid a stepping-stone -towards his fortunes by attracting the notice of his future queen. The -death of the Cardinal however in the following year overclouded his -prospects. His father was unable to procure a reversal of the sentence -of exile and confiscation passed on him for his adherence to Bourbon; -and Michel de l’Hôpital, without means or friends, betook himself to the -practice of the law in the courts of Paris. Fortunately, his merits -procured a discerning friend in Jean Morin, a high legal functionary, -who gave him his daughter in marriage in 1537, with the judicial office -of _Conseiller_ for her dowry. - -L’Hôpital filled this office during nine years. It was one in which he -found no pleasure; for though attached to the philosophical study of the -law (and he mentions it as one of the evils of his situation that he had -been obliged to abandon a project for collecting into one body the laws -of France, both written and resting on judicial decisions), he found the -daily routine of trying causes extremely irksome. His letters are full -of complaints of this drudgery, as he esteemed it, and express in lively -terms the pleasure which he felt in escaping during the vacations into -the country, and renewing his literary pursuits. He numbered the most -intellectual and learned men of France among his friends, nor was he -backward in seeking to conciliate the great and powerful. It is worth -noting, as indicative of the manners of the age, that his favourite -method of addressing such persons was in Latin hexameters. Accounts of -his way of life, statements of his wishes, petitions, &c., are conveyed -in that form; and he composed with fluency, and with a competent share -of elegance, without great attention to correctness. One of his frequent -correspondents, to whose favour he owed in great measure his future -rise, was Cardinal Lorraine. The Chancellor Olivier, a man of no common -virtue, was another of his best friends, and to him L’Hôpital was -indebted for being withdrawn from the hated bustle of the law, by his -appointment as envoy to the Council of Bologna. This proved a sinecure; -and he employed his time in wandering about the neighbourhood of that -city, and writing letters to the Chancellor, full of poetical -descriptions, and requests for a more permanent provision away from the -tumult of the law courts. - -Early in 1549 L’Hôpital was recalled, after remaining upwards of a year -in Italy. He found the Chancellor in disgrace; but his acknowledged -merit obtained the notice of Margaret of Valois, daughter of Francis I., -a steady patroness of learning, herself devoted to literary as well as -religious study. Being created Duchess of Berri, she appointed him her -Chancellor, to manage the affairs of the province; and one of his first -steps in that capacity was the establishment of a new law-school at -Bourges, to which he endeavoured to attract the most eminent teachers. -Her influence, added to that of Cardinal Lorraine, procured for him the -high financial appointment of Superintendent of the Chamber of Accounts, -in 1554. His conduct in that station was firm and honest. He laboured to -put a stop to numberless abuses, which had prevailed both in the -collection and disposition of the revenue; and his zeal is testified by -the ill-will which it brought upon him, and which twice endangered the -loss of his place. His independence in this respect is ill contrasted by -his obsequiousness in supporting the edict known in French history by -the name of the _Semestre_. This requires a few words of explanation. No -legislative body was recognised by the French constitution. Even the -States-General could not enact: the power of making laws resided solely -in the sovereign. But by the practice of the land, the edicts of the -monarch required to be registered by the body of lawyers called the -Parliament of Paris, before they could possess validity as law: a -wholesome practice, which often served as a check upon the court. It was -probably with the intention of rendering that body more subject to -control, that Henry II., or his ministers, introduced the -above-mentioned edict, by which it was proposed to divide the Parliament -into two bodies, to relieve each other every six months. Under this -arrangement it would have been easy to collect the refractory spirits -into one body, and then to bring measures forward for registration in -whichever half year might best suit the views of the crown. L’Hôpital’s -accession to this measure has been palliated by alleging, that, as the -price of it, he stipulated for the abolition of a custom which -prevailed, for suitors to offer fees to the judges before whom their -causes were to be tried, under the name of _spices_ (_épices_),—a ready -means of corruption, for yielding to which, or something not much worse, -Bacon, about half a century later, was removed with disgrace from the -chancellorship of England. The whole tenor of L’Hôpital’s policy in -after times tended to depress the Parliament; and this furnishes a -presumption that his conduct in this particular instance was honest. But -it is strange that he should not have perceived any inroad on the -independence of the judicial body to be a still greater evil than even -that from which he endeavoured to free it. After all, the scheme failed, -and he was deeply mortified at the obloquy which his accession to it -incurred. - -The accession of Francis II., by bringing the house of Guise into power, -proved the means of L’Hôpital’s advancement. One of the first acts of -the new government was to restore to the office of chancellor Olivier, a -man of tried integrity, and a friend to toleration. But while the -princes of Guise availed themselves of his high character to court -popularity, they had no thought of acting by his advice; and Olivier, -compelled to be the unwilling instrument of a policy which he detested, -and afraid or unable to resign, was hastened by vexation to his grave. -L’Hôpital was selected to be his successor in June, 1560. The Guises and -the Queen Mother are said to have been actuated by different views in -agreeing upon this appointment. The former thought that from an old -adherent and petitioner of Cardinal Lorraine they had no opposition to -fear: the latter is said to have been influenced by the hope that -L’Hôpital’s patriotism would lead him to be a check on the over-powerful -house of Lorraine. - -The circumstances under which he became Chancellor were such as might -fairly breed suspicion of his honesty. None but a bold man could have -hoped to do good after the example of Olivier; none but a dexterous man -could have succeeded. And such dexterity is seldom joined with that -sincerity and purity of purpose, which is one of the most valuable -qualities of a statesman, or any man. There are sometimes seasons in -which an honest man may take office, with the certainty not only that he -will not be permitted to do much that he would wish, but also that he -will be obliged to do a good deal that he disapproves. But such -compromises are of bad example and evil influence, and can only be -excused by the necessity of the times, and by the good results which -ensue. By this test, L’Hôpital’s conduct is vindicated. He conferred a -signal benefit on France at his first entrance upon office, by -dexterously contriving to prevent the establishment of the Inquisition, -which had been resolved on. He obtained the convocation of an Assembly -of Notables at Fontainebleau, in which, through his influence, -conciliatory measures were adopted towards the Protestants, and it was -resolved to summon a meeting of the States-General. But the Guises, by -working on the young king’s fears, turned that measure to their own -advantage. Condé no sooner appeared than he was arrested, tried, and -condemned to death. The King of Navarre was threatened with a similar -fate; and but for the opportune death of Francis II., the kingdom -probably would have been plunged at once into the utmost fury of a -religious war. But the succession of Charles IX., a minor, in December -1560, threw the regency into the hands of Catherine; and she, encouraged -by L’Hôpital, asserted her independence of the Guises, and, to -conciliate the support of a powerful party, released Condé, and allied -herself with the King of Navarre. - -At first, the Chancellor’s liberal measures seemed to prosper. As if in -compliance with the demands of the States, he published the celebrated -Ordonnance of Orleans, which embodied most of his views for the -reformation of the state, and introduced a variety of bold and important -changes into the church, the courts of justice, and the financial -system. One portion of it is expressly directed against the oppressive -rights claimed and exercised by the nobility. But the spirit of the age -was not ripe for such extensive reforms: they were too far in advance to -produce a lasting influence. And in attempting to overcome an interested -and prejudiced opposition, the Chancellor was led to an act unworthy of -his real zeal for the welfare of his country. His legal improvements had -not conciliated the good will of the lawyers; and, foreseeing that the -Parliament of Paris might probably refuse to register his edicts, he -took it on himself to dispatch them to the provinces, without ever -having submitted them to that body. To justify such a step, it is not -enough to say that his views were enlarged and noble, theirs bigoted and -illiberal; for it is seldom or never that any object can be of -importance enough to justify a constitutional statesman in breaking down -a constitutional security. Nor had he even the bad excuse of success. -The Parliament were justly incensed, and probably became still more -hostile to the measures adopted in defiance of its authority; and the -high Catholic party prevailed in obtaining a new Assembly of Notables, -at which all was undone which the Chancellor had been labouring to do, -and the persecuting edicts against the Protestants were re-established -in full force. - -This blow to his system of toleration the Chancellor contrived to -obviate. He had no assembly, no body of recognised authority on which to -lean for support. The Parliament of Paris was against him; the Assembly -of Notables, composed of lawyers and nobility, was against him; the -States-General were tedious to convoke, and were paralysed by their -division into three orders. In this difficulty he bethought himself of -calling an assembly of deputies from the provincial Parliaments of the -kingdom; and fortified by their recommendation, he promulgated and -obtained registration of the celebrated edict of January, 1562, which, -under certain restrictions, permitted the open profession of the -Protestant faith. Upon this the furious bigotry of the Duke of Guise -broke into open violence, and kindled the first of those religious wars -which long desolated France. Strengthened by the adhesion of the -Constable Montmorenci, and by possession of the persons of the King, and -Queen Regent, the brothers of Lorraine usurped the conduct of affairs, -and excluded L’Hôpital from the council. It is remarkable, considering -his resolute opposition to their policy, that they did not deprive him -of his office; and this may be taken as an evidence either of the -consummate prudence with which, without betraying his own principles, he -avoided giving personal offence to his opponents; or that his character -stood so high as to render his opponents unwilling to incur the odium of -displacing him. - -The assassination of the Duke of Guise, in February, 1563, restored to -Catherine her own free-will, and L’Hôpital to power; and he immediately -availed himself of it to lay the basis of peace by fresh edicts in -favour of toleration, which as usual were opposed by the Parliament. In -the following year, Charles IX. having reached the age of fourteen, the -Chancellor revived an old law which fixed the majority of Kings of -France at that age, and declared the King’s majority before the -Parliament of Rouen. Soon after, he was engaged in a quarrel with his -old patron, Cardinal Lorraine, relative to the privileges of the -Gallican Church. The question was, whether or not the decrees of the -Council of Trent should be admitted as authority in France. The -Chancellor opposed this, and he carried his point. - -To amuse Charles, and to avoid some of the evils which usually beset a -court, the Chancellor conducted his young sovereign on a tour to the -southern provinces of France. This was attended with unforeseen and evil -consequences. At Bayonne Charles was met by his sister, the Queen of -Spain, attended by the Duke of Alva and other Spanish noblemen. Alva -acquired the confidence of Catherine, whom he persuaded that in the -hands of L’Hôpital she really had no more freedom of action than under -the control of the Guises; and as in her opposition to them she had been -actuated by no love of toleration, she had little to unlearn under the -tuition of that bigoted and able partizan of the papacy. L’Hôpital soon -perceived that his power was shaken. He laboured to make up for the lost -confidence of Catherine, by attaching himself more and more to Charles -IX.; and for a time he succeeded in retaining influence over that -prince, who, during the years 1565 and 1566, was kept in a state of -vacillation between those who pleaded for peace and toleration, and -those who would have exterminated Protestantism at all hazards and by -all means. The religious war was renewed in 1567. Peace was concluded in -1568; but L’Hôpital was not employed to manage it. His only hold upon -power was now in the reverence of the King; and this was shaken by the -artful representations of Catherine. It shows, however, in a strong -light, the ascendancy which L’Hôpital had acquired over Charles’s mind, -that the joint influence of Catherine and the House of Guise could not -induce him absolutely to dismiss his faithful minister. In 1568 he sent -to request the Chancellor to give up the seals for a time, with a -promise of returning them. L’Hôpital says in his Testament, that “he -judged it better to yield to the necessity of the state, and to its new -governors, than to contend with them.” He retired to his estate at -Vignay, near Etampes, where he returned with avidity to his literary -pursuits, and to the amusements and occupations of the country, to which -his letters represent him as devotedly attached. - -The Chancellor had not amassed wealth in his various high employments; -but his pensions were continued by the King; and Catherine herself did -not forget his former services. Even in the dreadful massacre of St. -Bartholomew’s they interfered to protect him; though his family were -Protestants, and he himself, though a Catholic by profession and in -observances, was so suspected by the bigot party, who did not understand -how sincerity and tolerance could go together, that it passed into a -sort of proverb, ‘Lord deliver us from the Chancellor’s mass.’ A troop -of horse was sent from court to preserve his mansion from insult. His -domestics were alarmed, and proposed to shut the gates. “No,” said the -Chancellor; “but if the small gate is not enough, open the great one.” -His daughter, then in Paris, was in imminent danger, and escaped only -through the intervention of the Duchess of Guise. - -The Chancellor did not long survive this signal proof that his labours -had been in vain. “I have lived too long,” he said, “since I have seen -what has occurred in my last days,—a youth changed from a mild king into -a merciless tyrant.” He died, March 13, 1573; and was buried in his -parish church of Champmoteux. His monument is among those which have -been collected at Paris, in the Musée des Petits-Augustins. - -Brantôme has described the person of L’Hôpital. He wore a long white -beard; his face was pale, his demeanor grave, and he resembled the -pictures of St. Jerome, by which name he was known at court. He and the -Constable Montmorenci were famous as _rabroueurs_, or reprimanders, and -were joint terrors to the idle courtiers; and this harshness, if we may -trust his own representations, was not natural, but assumed as a -necessary qualification for his office. His private habits were very -simple and frugal, and he regarded the increase of luxury as the bane of -France. Brantôme says that once, when he paid the Chancellor a visit -with Maréchal Strozzi, their host gave them for dinner a single dish of -_bouillie_, and that his whole stock of plate consisted of one silver -saltcellar. He adds an amusing account of the way in which the -Chancellor rated two newly appointed functionaries, who came to present -themselves, and who could not pass satisfactorily through a legal -examination, which he bestowed upon them. - -The leading objects of L’Hôpital’s political life were to obtain the -reformation of abuses, to establish the independence of the Gallican -church against the usurpations of Rome, and to procure toleration for -the Protestants. He is, we believe, the first minister who laid down the -principle of toleration, and proclaimed the impossibility and absurdity -of making force the rule of reason; and he has thus gained an -indefeasible title to the reverence, not only of his countrymen, but of -mankind. “What laws,” he said, in his inaugurative speech to the -Parliament of Paris, “have not been promulgated on this point of -religion? What judgments and punishments, of which even the magistrates -of the Parliament have been victims? To what purpose have served such -continued armaments and combats in Germany, in England, and in Scotland? -The ancient religion has been shaken by these combats, and the new -confirmed. The mistake lies in treating the maladies of the mind as if -they were those of the body. Experience teaches us that it is the force -of reason, the gentle persuasion of words alone, which can win hearts, -and cure diseased spirits.” - -This great man has another claim to notice, as one of the most -distinguished jurists and reformers of France. He has been classed with -Charlemagne and St. Louis, as one of the three principal legislators of -that country; and his eminent successor D’Aguesseau bore testimony to -the merits of his edicts, as the foundation of the most useful laws -which were afterwards enacted. His constitutional views were directed -towards raising the royal authority, at the expense of the nobility and -the Parliament. We have expressed our belief that in the latter instance -his conduct was wrong. His views of reform are embodied in the -Ordonnance of Orleans (January, 1561), and that of Moulins (February, -1566), which De Thou describes as being the complement of the former. Of -the contents of the Ordonnance of Orleans we have already given such -notice as our space allows; that of Moulins pertains rather to legal and -judicial reforms; it limits and defines the powers of judicial officers, -and determines the law on various points, relative to entails, arrests -for debt, sales, &c. In short, these two edicts provide for the removal -of most of those evils which, unredressed, produced the first -Revolution. - -It is much to be regretted that L’Hôpital’s essay towards a work on -French law is lost. There is a volume extant of his Poetical Epistles, -of which the best edition is that of Amsterdam, 1732. To these, and to -his Testament, which is printed in the Bibliothèque Choisie of Colomiès, -and in Brantôme (article of the Constable Montmorenci), we may refer for -authentic details of his life; of which numerous particulars will be -found in the history of De Thou, the Memoirs of Brantôme, the Letters of -Pasquier, the Eloges of Thevet, and other contemporary writers. His -speeches before the States of Orleans have been published; and a -Collection of Memoirs, consisting of various State Papers, printed at -Cologne, 1672, has been ascribed to him. The Eloge of L’Hôpital was -proposed as a prize by the French Academy in 1777. Slight accounts of -him will be found in the various biographical dictionaries; but no -publication, so far as we know, has appeared either in French or -English, which can dispense with the necessity of consulting the -original authorities, on the part of those who wish to obtain more than -a superficial acquaintance with the history of this illustrious -statesman. - -[Illustration: - - [The Conciergerie at Paris, from whence the Huguenot prisoners were - liberated by L’Hôpital himself,—from a Print in the British Museum.] -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - MRS. SIDDONS. - - -The light esteem in which the theatrical profession has commonly been -held renders it probable that the introduction of an actress among the -few female names included in our Gallery may seem to some persons -uncalled for and injudicious. That there are few players entitled to -such admission we allow: but for one who studied acting as a branch of -art, discarding every unworthy species of stage trickery; and who, by -profound study, and a rare union of mental and bodily excellence, has -inseparably connected her name and memory with the masterpieces of the -British drama, we do claim a place (to which her eminent brother is -almost equally entitled) among the master-minds of the fine arts. - -Sarah Kemble came of a theatrical stock. Her father was manager of a -provincial company of actors; her mother was the daughter of a -provincial manager. Both parents maintained a high character for moral -rectitude; and the latter is said to have been distinguished by a -strength of mind, and stateliness of demeanour, which may have had some -influence upon the character and manners of her celebrated children. -Sarah, their eldest daughter, was born at Brecon, July 5, 1755. From an -early period of childhood she was trained to the stage. She was scarcely -more than seventeen when her affections were engaged by an actor of her -father’s company, named Siddons, to whom, after some opposition on the -part of her parents, she was married, November 26, 1773. Her early -married life was beset with difficulties. Mr. Siddons possessed little -merit as an actor; and during nine years, which elapsed before Mrs. -Siddons established a metropolitan reputation, she had to endure hard -work and low pay. The first encouragement which she received in her -career was from the notice of the Hon. Miss Boyle, afterwards Lady -O’Neil, a lady possessed of high mental qualities, as well as birth and -beauty, who was so much struck - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. Holl._ - - M^{RS}. SIDDONS. - - _After the Picture by Sir Joshua Reynolds._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - -by the young actress’s performance of Belvidera at Cheltenham in 1774, -that she sought her out in her obscurity, and there commenced a warm and -lasting friendship. Through this connection Mrs. Siddons seems to have -been introduced to Garrick, by whom she was engaged at Drury Lane -theatre. Her first appearance was in the character of Portia, December -29, 1775. She was received with indifference; and during the remainder -of the season she did not establish herself in the favour of the London -audiences, nor did she appear in any first-rate part. Garrick professed -high admiration for her, and on quitting the stage, which he did towards -the close of that season, promised to procure for her an advantageous -engagement with his successors in the management. In this promise he -failed, for during the summer of 1776 she received an abrupt dismissal -from Drury Lane. Her failure to produce a sensation in the first -instance does not seem to have weighed much on her mind. She knew her -powers, but was conscious that they were immature; and she was deeply -sensible through life how necessary, even to the greatest powers, are -cultivation and study. But this dismissal affected her in a very -different manner. In her own words, quoted from the autograph -‘Recollections’ intrusted to her friend and biographer, Mr. Campbell, -“it was a stunning and cruel blow, overwhelming all my ambitious hopes, -and involving peril, even to the very subsistence of my helpless babes.” - -Her fears were soothed, and her mortification relieved by her success at -several of the provincial theatres. She received her dismissal from -Drury Lane while at Birmingham, where she was engaged during the summer -to perform the highest characters; and where she laid the foundation of -her fame, by acquiring the good opinion of the actor Henderson, who -pronounced, within a year of her expulsion from Drury Lane, that she was -an actress who never had an equal, nor would ever have a superior. -Through his recommendation, in the following year she obtained a -permanent engagement at Bath, where she was received with distinguished -favour, and where she remained until her increasing reputation procured -for her an invitation to return to Drury Lane. She chose the part of -Isabella, in the ‘Fatal Marriage,’ for her debut, October 10, 1782. The -anxiety with which she approached this second trial is described in an -interesting manner in her own memoranda. On this occasion her hopes were -fully gratified. She played Isabella eight times between October 10, and -October 30, when she appeared in her second character, Euphrasia, in the -‘Grecian Daughter.’ Her other parts, during this first season, were Jane -Shore, Calista, Belvidera, and Zara in the ‘Mourning Bride.’ - -We propose in this sketch of Mrs. Siddons’s theatrical life to notice -only the most remarkable of her characters, reserving to the end a -complete list of them, together with a few remarks on her style of -acting. In November, 1783, she played Isabella in ‘Measure for Measure,’ -with entire success; and thus solved the real or pretended doubts of a -few persons, who questioned her courage or capacity to represent the -masterpieces of Shakspeare to a London audience. No one could do more -justice to the pure, uncompromising, clear-sighted virtue of Isabella, -so consonant to her own honest and high-souled simplicity: nor was she -at fault in attempting, during the same season, Constance, in ‘King -John,’ a character of more varied emotion, and far greater demand on the -resources of the player. Of this part she says, in an elaborate -criticism, worthy of being read with attention by all persons, and -especially by actors, “I cannot conceive in the whole range of dramatic -character a greater difficulty than that of representing this grand -creature.” Those who remember her performance of it in the meridian of -her powers, bear testimony, with Mr. Campbell, to the depth of her -maternal affection, her queen-like majesty, and her tremendous power of -invective and sarcasm: when first revived for her the play seems to have -been coldly received. - -The celebrated portrait of Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse was painted -by Reynolds in 1783. The character was suggested by the painter: the -attitude is that in which the sitter first placed herself, by which -Reynolds was so struck that he at once adopted it. - -An interesting anecdote relative to Mrs. Siddons’s first country -performance of Lady Macbeth, is told in the Memoranda from which we have -already quoted. “It was my custom to study my characters at night, when -the domestic cares and business of the day were over. On the night -preceding that in which I was to appear for the first time, I shut -myself up, as usual, when all the family were retired, and commenced my -study of _Lady Macbeth_. As the character is very short, I thought I -should soon accomplish it. Being then only twenty years of age, I -believed, as many do believe, that little more was necessary than to get -the words into my head; for the necessity of discrimination, and the -development of character, at that time of my life, had scarcely entered -into my imagination. But, to proceed, I went on with tolerable composure -in the silence of the night, (a night I can never forget,) till I came -to the assassination scene, when the horrors of the scene rose to a -degree that made it impossible for me to get farther. I snatched up my -candle, and hurried out of the room, in a paroxysm of terror. My dress -was of silk, and the rustling of it, as I ascended the stairs to go to -bed, seemed to my panic-struck fancy like the movement of a spectre -pursuing me. At last I reached my chamber, where I found my husband fast -asleep. I clapt my candlestick down upon the table, without the power of -putting the candle out; and I threw myself on my bed, without daring to -stay even to take off my clothes. At peep of day I rose to resume my -task; but so little did I know of my part when I appeared in it at -night, that my shame and confusion cured me of procrastinating my -business for the remainder of my life.” - -“About six years afterwards I was called upon to act the same character -in London. By this time I had perceived the difficulty of assuming a -personage with whom no one feeling of common general nature was -congenial or assistant. One’s own heart could prompt one to express with -some degree of truth the sentiments of a mother, a daughter, a wife, a -lover, a sister, &c.; but to adopt this character must be an effort of -the judgment alone.” - -In accordance with this, Mrs. Siddons has been known to say, that Lady -Macbeth gave her more trouble than any other of her characters, both in -settling her conception of the poet’s meaning, and determining the means -of giving effect to it. Her success however in the eyes of the public -was complete: in Mr. Campbell’s words, “the moment she seized the part -she identified her image with it in the minds of the living generation.” -She appeared in it for the first time in London, February 2, 1785. Smith -played Macbeth. As in the case of Constance, Mrs. Siddons has left, in -an elaborate essay on the character of Lady Macbeth, interesting -evidence of the deep study which she bestowed on her profession; a point -in which, as well as in general mental cultivation, the Kemble family -have been advantageously distinguished from others even of our -first-rate actors. It is scarcely possible to conceive ‘Macbeth’ so well -performed as when the principal characters were filled by Mrs. Siddons -and Kemble: the actors might have been thought born for the parts. The -same may be said of ‘Coriolanus,’ in which they appeared together for -the first time in February, 1789. But the season of 1785 is also -memorable for Mrs. Siddons’s first appearance in Desdemona, a character -as widely different from the Scottish Queen as can well be imagined. Yet -it is recorded to have been one of the actress’s most exquisite -performances; and this is one of the strongest proofs of her -extraordinary talent. Unsuitable as her person, voice, and general -demeanour may seem to those who knew her only in her later days, we have -the undeniable testimony of competent judges to the grace, loveliness, -and sweetness with which she personated the gentle Venetian. Her very -stature, Mr. Boaden says, seemed to be lowered. Ophelia she performed -once, and once only, for her benefit, May 15, 1786, to her brother’s -Hamlet; and, though a poor singer, she rendered the part deeply -affecting. Juliet she also performed, we believe once only, for her -benefit in 1789. Cordelia and Imogen are to be added to the list of -characters of the gentler cast. The former was not one of her most -popular, probably not one of her most effective, performances, for Lear -is said to have been almost the only play in which, when both were on -the stage, the brother made a stronger impression than the sister. The -pure, gentle dignity of Imogen must have found in her a most effective -representative. - -In the autumn of 1783, about a year before Dr. Johnson’s death, Mrs. -Siddons, at his own request, paid him a visit, which was several times -repeated. He expressed a strong desire to see her in Queen Katherine, -his favourite character among Shakspeare’s females. He was not so -gratified; for the play was not brought forward until November 28, 1788, -after an absence from the stage of near half a century. This, like Lady -Macbeth, we must regard as one of Mrs. Siddons’s peculiar characters. -“It was an era,” Mr. Campbell says, “not only in Mrs. Siddons’s history, -but in the fortune of the play as an acting piece; for certainly, in the -history of all female performance on the British stage, there is no -specific tradition of any excellence at all approaching to hers as Queen -Katherine.” The two principal scenes belonging to the part are -strikingly contrasted. The high mind and majestic deportment of the -actress, and the sarcasm which she pours out on the Cardinal, render the -Trial Scene one of the most effective on the stage; and it has -fortunately been preserved from oblivion by the pencil of Harlowe. But -the last scene, in the sick chamber, was among the strongest proofs of -Mrs. Siddons’s close adherence to nature, and one of her greatest -triumphs over the difficulties of her art, enhanced as they were by the -extravagant dimensions of the modern theatres. It may be mentioned to -show her confidence in her own judgment as to the truth of nature that, -though the audience in the gallery sometimes asked her to speak louder, -she never obeyed the call; but left the architect responsible for any -failure of effect, rather than herself overstep the bounds of propriety -in the most solemn event of human life. - -Mrs. Siddons quitted Drury Lane for the season 1789–90, in consequence -of the difficulty of obtaining her salary while the treasury was in the -hands of Sheridan. She was induced by promises to return in the -following season; but a weak state of health prevented her playing more -than seven nights, and she appeared in no new character; nor, during the -summer of 1791, did she act on any provincial stage. She returned to -Drury Lane in 1794, after the rebuilding of the theatre, and remained -there until 1802; when the impossibility of rescuing the reward of her -labours from that “drowning gulf,” as she justly calls Sheridan in one -of her letters, drove her away finally. The most remarkable of her new -characters, during this period of eight years, were Millwood, in ‘George -Barnwell,’ and Agnes, in ‘Fatal Curiosity,’ both plays of Lillo; Mrs. -Haller; Elvira in ‘Pizarro,’ which, in spite of the demerits of the -play, she rendered one of her most popular characters; and Hermione, in -the ‘Winter’s Tale,’ her last new part, which she acted for the first -time, March 25, 1802. The statue scene was one of her most extraordinary -performances, both for its illusion while she remained motionless, and -for the effect produced by her descent from the pedestal, and -recognition of her daughter Perdita. - -In one of her early performances of this character she met with an -accident which might well have ended fatally. The muslin draperies in -which she was enveloped caught fire from a lamp; fortunately, one of the -scene-men saw and extinguished it before it spread. Her gratitude for -his interposition is eloquently expressed in her correspondence; and her -warmth of feeling was subsequently evinced in the pains which she took -to procure for the man’s son, who had deserted from the army, remission -from what she justly calls “the horrid torture and disgrace of the -lash,” and in the lively pleasure which she expresses in the prospect of -succeeding. - -Upon her final departure from Drury Lane, Mrs. Siddons formed an -engagement at Covent Garden, where she appeared for the first time, -September 27, 1803. She continued there until June 29, 1812, on which -day she bid farewell to the stage. During this time she performed in no -new characters, nor is any circumstance which requires notice recorded -of this part of her professional life. In her last season we find that, -of her earlier characters, she performed Isabella, in ‘The Fatal -Marriage,’ twice; Isabella, in ‘Measure for Measure,’ seven times; -Euphrasia, twice; Belvidera, six times; and Mrs. Beverley, four times. -It may perhaps be taken as an indication of that by which she wished -chiefly to be remembered, that she played Lady Macbeth ten times, and -chose it for her farewell. Queen Katherine she played six times; -Constance and Volumnia, four times each; Elvira, five times; Mrs. -Haller, twice; Hermione, four times. On her last appearance the house -was crowded to excess, and the excitement of the occasion was testified -by a general demand that the play should be stopped after Lady Macbeth’s -appearance in the sleeping scene. Mrs. Siddons returned to the boards on -various occasions, chiefly for her brother Charles’s benefit: her last -performance was in the part of Lady Randolph, June 9, 1819. - -In giving, in addition to what we have already said, a short general -notice of the professional merits of Mrs. Siddons, we shall confine our -remarks chiefly to those characters which better suited her maturer -years, in which alone a large majority of our readers can have seen her. -She was throughout the tragic department the unrivalled actress of her -time; though in such parts as Belvidera, Desdemona, Cordelia, &c., the -power of exciting the sympathy of an audience might have been shared -with her by Mrs. Cibber and other of her predecessors, or by her -successors, Miss O’Neil or Miss Kemble. But in one respect she stands -alone in her profession: she was the most intellectual of actresses. She -was a person of deep thought, and an habitual student of nature with a -view to the perfection of her art; and that as much, or more, in -advanced life, than when she had her reputation to make or to enjoy in -the first years of her celebrity. Mrs. Siddons sat day after day in her -study, looking at Shakspeare and whatever bore upon him, not as if he -were the mere poet of the stage, furnishing an outline to be filled up -by her peculiar powers, but as if he were the high priest and expositor -of human nature, whose lessons it was the serious business of her life -to learn, and having learned, to teach. - -We shall not add to what we have already said of her Queen Katherine, or -Lady Macbeth, except one circumstance, illustrative of the above -position. Mrs. Siddons, who repeatedly read ‘Macbeth’ before the most -competent judges, made a deeper and more lasting impression, not only in -her own part, but in the other characters, than did the representation -on the stage by her brother and herself, with all the advantages of -dress and the illusion of scenery. The audience, at her readings, -consisting of men and women of taste and literature, professed never to -have understood Shakspeare so thoroughly before. - -Her Isabella, in ‘Measure for Measure,’ claims a short notice. This play -in Garrick’s reign was acted occasionally to empty benches in the dull -part of the season; but neither the manager himself, nor his leading -performers, condescended to appear in so grave and sermonizing a piece. -Even when played by Kemble and his sister, it did not draw crowded -houses; but it ensured a critical and enlightened audience. The theatre -seldom contained so many men of the first reputation for taste and -literature as when that play was performed. John Kemble’s mind was -framed in the same mould with his sister’s; he gave to a sententious and -philosophic part dignity and interest, where an ordinary actor would -preach his audience to sleep. The scene between the Duke in the disguise -of a Confessor, and Isabella, excited neither tears nor rapturous -applause, but intense interest, and breathless attention. The Duke’s -exposition of his project is long, her intervening speeches short, and -not emphatic; so that such a scene bids fair to be called _prosing_. But -the intense and intelligent expression in her eyes, and more perhaps in -her mouth, the great seat of expression, filled up whatever was wanting: -the gradually increasing, but as yet far from complete comprehension of -the device, and of its consistency with her own purity, marked without -words what was passing in her mind: but when she exclaims “The image of -it gives me content already, and I trust it will grow to a most -prosperous perfection,” the burst of perfect understanding, the lighting -up of every feature, and the tones of sudden joy, produced a -corresponding effect in the spectators, which scenes of intense pathos -could scarcely surpass in effect. Mrs. Siddons’s power over the mind was -as great as over the passions. - -Another extraordinary performance was her Millwood, in ‘George -Barnwell.’ She took that part, which had never been played by a -first-rate actress, in hopes that she might be of service to her brother -Charles, then a young actor, who was to be brought forward as Barnwell. -In the early scenes the severity of her blandishments bordered on the -ludicrous; she was more like Barnwell’s mother than his mistress: but in -her scene of dissimulation with Thorowgood, and in her subsequent arrest -and diabolically triumphant avowal of the motive of her conduct through -life, the desire to revenge her wrongs on the opposite sex, she -pourtrayed wickedness with grand and appalling force. Her thundering -exclamation, “I know you, and I hate you all; I expect no mercy, and I -ask for none,” was made with a withering effect. The scene in ‘Fatal -Curiosity,’ in which Agnes suggests to her husband the murder of their -unknown son, was another of her wonderful exhibitions: in Mr. Campbell’s -words, “it made the flesh of the spectator creep.” - -Mrs. Siddons is said to have thought well of her own talents for comedy; -and her reading of Shakspeare’s characters of low humour was admirable. -She played at different times Katherine, in ‘The Taming of the Shrew,’ -and Rosalind; as well as Mrs. Oakley, and a few other characters of the -modern drama. There seems to have been nothing against her success in -genteel comedy but a deficiency of animal spirits. Her delivery of the -level conversation in tragedy was easy, graceful, and refined. Her -representation of the early scenes in ‘The Gamester,’ where she had -merely to personate an elegant and highbred woman, bearing up against -present anxiety and impending misfortune, was as attractive and as -finished as her deep tragedy in the sequel was pathetic and harrowing. -And in the first scenes of Mrs. Haller, the charm of her manners and -delivery imparted interest even to the dull detail of a housekeeper’s -weekly routine. - -We subjoin a list of the parts which Mrs. Siddons performed in London. -The reader will be surprised to find how many of them are in plays all -but forgotten, and utterly unworthy of her talents. In those marked (*) -she made her first appearance for her own benefit: in those marked (†), -for John Kemble’s. - - Characters. Plays. - - 1782–3. - - Isabella Fatal Marriage - - Euphrasia Grecian Daughter - - Jane Shore Jane Shore - - Calista Fair Penitent - - *Belvidera Venice Preserved - - *Zara Mourning Bride - - 1783–4. - - Isabella Measure for Measure - - Mrs. Beverley Gamester - - Constance King John - - *Lady Randolph Douglas - - Countess of Salisbury Countess of Salisbury (_Hartson._) - - *Sigismunda Tancred and Sigismunda - - 1784–5. - - Margaret of Anjou Earl of Warwick (_Franklin._) - - Zara Zara (_from Voltaire._) - - Matilda Carmelite (_Cumberland._) - - Camiola Maid of Honour - - *Lady Macbeth Macbeth - - Desdemona Othello - - Elfrida Elfrida (_Mason._) - - Rosalind As you like it - - 1785–6. - - The Duchess Duke of Braganza (_Jephson._) - - Mrs. Lovemore Way to keep Him - - *Hermione Distressed Mother - - *Ophelia, and the Lady in - Comus - - Malvina The Captives (_Delap._) - - Elwina Percy (_Miss H. More._) - - 1786–7. - - Cleone Cleone (_Dodsley._) - - Imogen Cymbeline - - Hortensia Count of Narbonne (_Jephson._) - - †Lady Restless All in the Wrong - - Julia Italian Lovers (_Jephson._) - - Alicia Jane Shore - - 1787–8. - - Cordelia Lear - - Cleonice Fall of Sparta (_Mrs. Cowley._) - - †Katherine Taming the Shrew - - Dionara Regent (_Greatheed._) - - *Cleopatra All for Love - - 1788–9. - - Queen Katherine Henry VIII. - - Volumnia Coriolanus - - *The Princess and Mrs. Riot Law of Lombardy (_Jephson._) - Lethe (_Farce. Garrick._) - - Mary Mary Queen of Scots (_St. John._) - - *Juliet Romeo and Juliet - - 1791–2. - - Queen Elizabeth Richard III. - - Mrs. Oakley Jealous Wife - - 1792–3. - - Ariadne Ariadne (_Murphy._) - - 1793–4. - - Countess Orsini Emilia Galotti (_from Lessing._) - - 1794–5. - - Horatia Roman Father (_Whitehead._) - - Elvira Edwyn and Elgiva (_Miss Burney._) - - Palmira Mahomet (_from Voltaire._) - - Emmeline Edgar and Emmeline (_Afterpiece._) - - 1795–6. - - Roxana Alexander the Great (_Lee._) - - Almeyda Queen of Granada (_Miss Lee._) - - Julia Such Things were (_Prince Hoare._) - - 1796–7. - - Eleanora Edwin and Eleonora (_Thomson._) - - Vitellia Conspiracy (_Jephson._) - - Millwood George Barnwell - - Athenais Force of Love (_Lee._) - - Aspasia Tamerlane (_Rowe._) - - Dido Queen of Carthage (_Reed._) - - Agnes Fatal Curiosity - - 1797–8. - - Julia Rivals - - Mrs. Haller Stranger - - 1798–9. - - Miranda Aurelio and Miranda (_Boaden._) - - Countess Castle of Montval (_Dr. Whalley._) - - Elvira Pizarro - - 1799–1800. - - Adelaide Adelaide (_Pye._) - - Lady Jane De Montfort - - 1800–1. - - Helena Antonio (_Godwin._) - - Agnes Julian and Agnes (_Sotheby._) - - 1802. - - Hermione Winter’s Tale - -Of Mrs. Siddons’s private life it is not necessary for us to speak at -length. She had a full share of domestic troubles; and suffered the most -poignant sorrow which could have befallen her affectionate temper, in -the successive deaths of two lovely daughters in the prime of youth, and -of her eldest son at a more advanced age. Nor was she exempted by her -brilliant success and large gains from great anxiety upon pecuniary -matters, and from the necessity of diligent labour at times when rest -would have been most grateful to a distressed spirit, and a body -weakened by frequent indisposition. And she made it her boast that she -had never wilfully disappointed either a manager or the public; and that -in point of punctuality, she had always been _an honest actress_. But -Mr. Siddons lost money in some unfortunate speculations; and this, -combined with the extreme difficulty of extracting from Sheridan her -salary, or even the proceeds of her benefits, kept Mrs. Siddons poor for -many years. It is however gratifying to know that the evening of her -life was spent in affluence. - -In social intercourse Mrs. Siddons commanded the respect of all, the -admiration and love of those who knew her intimately. To a -constitutional want of animal spirits, and to a fear of that -presumptuous intrusion to which actresses are often exposed, we may -attribute a gravity, not to say severity of manner, from which distant -observers sometimes inferred a corresponding severity of character. That -this was not the case, that she was benevolent, cheerful, and -affectionately interested in the welfare of all who enjoyed her -friendship, is shown by the testimony of many, and by the evidence of -her own actions. - -To be courted by the rich and noble is not the best proof or reward even -of professional merit; and no one ever was less disposed than Mrs. -Siddons to act the part of what is called _a lion_. But it should be -mentioned that her acquaintance was eagerly cultivated among the highest -of the land; and that she was personally esteemed by George III. and his -queen, and often summoned to attend on their private circle. She -possessed a still higher honour, and one which she is said to have -esteemed more highly, in the admiration and friendship of Johnson, -Reynolds, Burke, Fox, and other intellectual ornaments of the age. - -After quitting the stage, Mrs. Siddons gave public readings of poetry at -the Argyle Rooms, and also, by special invitation from the Universities, -at Cambridge and Oxford. At home her readings of Shakspeare were the -delight of large and frequent parties, till within a year or two of her -death. The latter years of her life were spent, the winter months at her -house in London, the summer months at some watering-place, and in visits -to her numerous friends. Time laid his touch gently on her noble face -and person; and to the end of life she looked some years younger than -her age, and preserved her mental powers unimpaired. She died June 8, -1831, in her seventy-sixth year. - -We need hardly refer to the Lives of Messrs. Boaden and Campbell. The -interest of the latter is much increased by the critical and other -writings of Mrs. Siddons, with which it is interspersed. - -[Illustration: [Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse, from Sir J. Reynolds.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by E. Scriven._ - - SIR W. HERSCHELL. - - _From a Crayon Picture by the late J. Russell, Esq^{re}. R.A. in the - possession of Sir John Herschell._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - HERSCHEL. - - -William Herschel was born at Hanover, November 15, 1738. His father was -a musician, and brought up his four sons to his own art, which in -Germany gave him better means of educating his children, than would have -fallen to the lot of a person holding the same station in England. The -subject of our memoir is said to have had a master who instructed him in -French, ethics, and metaphysics: but at the age of fourteen he was -placed in the band of the Hanoverian regiment of guards, and in 1758 or -1759 he accompanied a detachment of the regiment to England. Another -account states that he grew tired of his occupation, and came to England -alone. Here, after struggling with poverty for some time, he was chosen -by Lord Darlington to organize a band for the Durham militia; after -which he passed several years in the West Riding of Yorkshire, employed -in teaching music and studying languages. About 1765 he was elected -organist at Halifax, and employed himself in the study of harmony and -mathematics. Such at least is the statement of the ‘Obituary;’ but in -that respectable work we find no references to the sources from which -these minute particulars of Herschel’s early life are obtained. About -this time he is said to have visited Italy; and, without professing to -give credit to it, we may here insert a curious story which appears to -have been copied into English works from the ‘Dictionnaire des Auteurs -Vivans,’ &c., Paris, 1816. Being at Genoa, and not having wherewith to -pay his passage home to England, he procured from a M. L’Anglé the use -of some public rooms for a concert, at which he played a quartett, -alone, upon a harp, and two horns, one fastened to each shoulder. Those -who are in the least acquainted with wind instruments will hardly -believe that a horn fastened to the shoulder would be of much more use -than one growing out of the head, as a musical instrument; to say -nothing of the difficulty of blowing two horns at once, or of playing a -_quartett_ upon _three_ instruments. Remarkable characters are generally -made the subject of wonderful stories, of which each is fashioned in -accordance with the general habits of the inventor: the groom’s idea of -a wit was “a gentleman who could ride three horses at once;” surely two -horns and a harp are not too much to be played at once by a planetary -discoverer. - -About 1766, he is said to have been one of the Pump-room band at Bath, -and was shortly afterwards organist of the Octagon Chapel there. He -taught and read as before; and here he turned his attention to -astronomy. He borrowed a small reflecting telescope of a friend; and at -length, finding that the purchase of such an instrument was -(“fortunately,” as it has been well expressed,) above his means, he -endeavoured to construct one for himself. His first attempt was a -five-feet Newtonian reflector. It was some time before he perfected -himself in the method of forming mirrors: in one instance he is said to -have spoiled 200 before he succeeded. - -In 1781, he announced to the world the discovery of his new planet, of -which we shall presently speak. He was immediately appointed private -astronomer to the King, by George III., a post which, we believe, was -created for him, and died with him, with a salary of £400, and removed, -first to Datchet, afterwards to Slough, where he continued till his -death, August 23, 1822. During this period he ran that career of patient -and sagacious investigation, terminating in brilliant discovery, which -has made his name so well known to the world. Little has been published -concerning his private life; but the whole results of his mind are to be -found in the ‘Philosophical Transactions’ between the years 1782 and -1818. - -We have not been able to find the dates of his knighthood, or of his -receiving the degree of Doctor of Civil Law from the University of -Oxford. He married (we cannot find the date) Mrs. Mary Pitt, a widow; -and his only son, Sir John Herschel, has selected from the many tasks to -which he is competent, that of developing and adding to his father’s -discoveries. - -In the space which we can devote to the astronomical and optical labours -of Herschel, we cannot attempt to furnish even the smallest detail of -their end and objects, since the catalogue of titles alone would occupy -more room than we have to give. We can do no more than address ourselves -to the impression which generally exists upon the subject, and which -supposes the inventor and the philosopher to be no more than an -industrious man with good eyes, clever at grinding mirrors for -reflecting telescopes, and lucky enough to point one at a new planet. -Such being the common notion, it is not possible to make any mere -description of Herschel’s papers an index of his merits. Nor have we -here understated the scientific knowledge of the public in general. When -Sir John Herschel lately set out for the Cape of Good Hope, the -newspapers announced his approaching departure, accompanied by the -information that “six waggon loads of telescopes” were on their way to -the ship, which was all that was said, except in publications expressly -scientific. That one principal object of the son’s voyage was to -complete a great branch of astronomy, by doing in the southern -hemisphere what the father had done in the northern, was not stated for -a very simple reason—that this portion of the father’s labours is hardly -known by name to any but astronomers. And it is to astronomers only that -Herschel is truly known. The notion entertained of him by others often -reminds us of the farmer, who came to him to know the proper time to cut -his hay. The philosopher replied by pointing to his own crop, which -happened to be rotting on the ground under a heavy rain. - -The planet which Herschel called after George III. (but which now goes -under the more appropriate name of Uranus) was discovered by him March -13, 1781; not accidentally, but as one of the fruits of a laborious -investigation, with a distinct and useful object. He was examining every -star with one telescope, that he might obtain a definite idea of -relative phenomena, which should enable him to distinguish changes -actually taking place, from differences of appearance caused by the use -of different telescopes: the whole being in furtherance of the design of -“throwing some new light upon the organization of the celestial bodies.” -The last words, which are part of the title of one of his subsequent -papers, aptly express the line of astronomy to which Herschel devoted -his life; and the discovery of the planet Uranus was not the chance work -of a moment, but the consequence of sagacity strengthened by habit, the -latter being formed with a perfect knowledge of what was wanted, as well -as of what would be useful in supplying it. Had he been merely -registering the places of the stars, he would probably (as others did -before him) have passed the planet, perhaps with some remark upon its -apparent _diskiness_: for though the stars have no well-defined discs, -yet some have so much more of the appearance of discs than others, that -a faint planet, viewed with a low power, might easily be taken for a -star. But being engaged upon the stars, expressly with a view to trying -how much of such a circumstance would be telescopic, and how much real, -he was thereby led to try higher powers, and, eventually, other -telescopes. The existence of the _planet_ was soon ascertained, and -forms one of the two great features of Herschel’s reputation in the eyes -of the world at large. - -The celebrated forty-foot telescope, first described to the Royal -Society by Herschel, June 2, 1795, was the result of a long series of -experiments on the construction of mirrors, begun at Bath, on telescopes -from two to twenty feet in length. And we may here remark, that “the -bulk of his fortune arose from the sale of telescopes of his own -construction, many of which were purchased for the chief observatories -of Europe,” and not from the salary of £400 a year which he received as -private astronomer to George III. See ‘Statement of Circumstances,’ &c., -a pamphlet printed on the occasion of the last election of a President -by the Royal Society. In 1785, George III. furnished Herschel with the -means of undertaking an instrument larger than any he had yet made. The -greatest difficulty (independent of the stand) was the obtaining a -mirror of sufficient size, which should not crack in cooling, and should -be strong enough not to bend under its own weight. This instrument has -been so frequently described that we shall say no more of it, except -that Herschel dates the completion of it from August 28, 1789, when he -discovered the sixth satellite of Saturn, and obtained his best view of -the spots on that planet. A month later, the seventh satellite was -discovered by Herschel. This telescope is now never used. Sir J. -Herschel prefers a twenty-foot reflector for his own observations. - -The first discovery of the satellites of Uranus was also in a minor -degree the work of thought. Such bodies were repeatedly looked for by -Herschel, but none were seen. A small change in the instrument, by which -the light was increased, suggested one more trial; and the result was -the establishment of the existence of the two first satellites, in -January, 1787. Two more were discovered by Herschel, in 1790, and two -more in 1794. These satellites cannot be seen but with an instrument of -first-rate power, and in a favourable position of the planet. No one has -observed the four last satellites except Herschel himself, or the two -first, except himself and Sir J. Herschel, who has confirmed his -father’s determination of their periods. See _Mem. Royal Astron. Soc._ -vol. viii. He found that their orbits were nearly perpendicular to the -plane of the ecliptic, and ascertained their retrograde motion, and some -remarkable relations between their mean distances. It has a brilliant -sound, but it is literally true as to the number of _known_ bodies -composing the solar system, that Herschel left it exactly half as large -again as he found it. To the Sun, Mercury, Venus, the Earth and Moon, -Mars, Jupiter and four satellites, Saturn and five satellites, and -Halley’s Comet, eighteen in all, he added nine, namely, two satellites -to Saturn, Uranus and six satellites. - -But not content with augmenting our own, it is to Herschel we owe the -discovery of other systems. That the fixed stars were each the centre of -a number of planets was suspected, perhaps rather prematurely, before -his observations were made known. But the first positive addition to our -knowledge of _systems_, that is of bodies which move in any degree of -connexion with each other, is to be found in his paper read to the Royal -Society, June 9, 1803, announcing that Castor, γ Leonis, ε Bootis, ζ -Herculis, δ Serpentis, γ Virginis, were most probably _binary_[4] stars. -The existence of such systems has been confirmed by Sir J. Herschel and -Professor Struve, and the duration of the periods given by Herschel has -been sufficiently confirmed to make the exactness of his observations -remarkable. But to new planets, and new systems, Herschel added new -universes; or, more properly speaking, showed that the universe -consisted of portions, each conveying as large an idea of extent and -number, as the whole of what was previously called _the universe_. His -great telescope furnished sufficient facts, and his mind was not slow to -draw a conjectural inference, which must be classed among the happiest -efforts of reasoning speculation. The resolution of the milky way into -stars proved that we are situated in a stratum of such bodies much -thicker in some directions than others: this led to the inference that -some or all of the nebulæ with which the sky is crowded might be similar -enormous groups of stars; and the resolution of some of the nebulæ into -detached portions was a first step towards the demonstration of the -conjecture. - -Footnote 4: - - _Double_ stars, those which are so near to each other as to appear one - to the naked eye: _binary_ systems, double stars which revolve round - each other. - -There is enough yet unmentioned,—in the discovery of the time of -rotation of Saturn—that of Jupiter’s satellites—that of the -refrangibility of heat—the experiments on colours—the enormous -collection of nebulæ—the experimental determination of the magnitude of -stars—the researches and conjectures on the physical constitution of the -sun—those on the qualities of telescopes, &c. &c.,—to form by itself no -ordinary title to the recollection of posterity. But we must refer to -Sir J. Herschel’s Astronomy, in which will be found such an account of -them as the plan of the work permitted, by one who has shown himself as -indisposed to exaggerate, as interested to explain. - -In the labours of his observatory Herschel was assisted by his sister, -Miss Caroline Herschel, with whose help he published, in 1798, his -catalogue of Flamsteed’s stars. This lady, whose exertions, both as an -observer and calculator, are well known to astronomers, is still living, -at a very advanced age, in Hanover. - -We do not know of any very trustworthy account of Herschel. ‘The -Obituary for 1822,’ the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine,’ the ‘Annual Register,’ -&c., do not state their authorities. We have followed the -first-mentioned work as to facts and dates in most of the particulars -here mentioned. - -[Illustration: [View of the great telescope erected at Slough.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by R. Woodman._ - - SIR S. ROMILLY. - - _From an Enamel after a Picture by Sir Thomas Lawrence._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - ROMILLY. - - -The grandfather of Sir Samuel Romilly, as we learn from the following -passage of a speech which he made at Bristol, “was born the heir to a -considerable landed estate at Montpellier, in the South of France. His -ancestors had early imbibed and adopted the principles and doctrines of -the Reformed Religion, and he had been educated himself in that -religious faith. He had the misfortune to live soon after the time when -the Edict of Nantes, the great Toleration Act of the Protestants of -France, was revoked by Louis XIV.; and he found himself exposed to all -the vexations and persecutions of a bigoted and tyrannical government -for worshipping God in the manner in which he believed was most -acceptable to Him. He determined to free himself from this bondage; he -abandoned his property, he tore himself from his connexions, and, -quitting the country and its tyrant, sought an asylum in this land of -liberty, where he had to support himself only by his own exertions. He -himself embarked in trade; he educated his sons to useful trades; and he -was contented, at his death, to leave them, instead of his original -patrimony, no other inheritance than the habits of industry he had given -them—the example of his own virtuous life, an hereditary detestation of -tyranny and injustice, and an ardent zeal in the cause of civil and -religious freedom.” One of these sons became eminent as a jeweller, and -married Miss Garnault, by whom he had a numerous family. Of these three -only lived to maturity, Thomas, Catherine, and Samuel. Samuel was the -youngest, and was born March 1, 1757. - -His father was a man of extreme benevolence, and strict integrity; warm -in his affections, and cheerful in his disposition. Under the influence -of his precepts and example the moral character of Samuel Romilly was -formed: for his mother, from an habitual state of bad health, was -incapable of superintending the early education of her children, which -was consequently much neglected. Samuel and his brother were sent to a -common day-school, the master of which pretended to teach Latin, -although really ignorant of that language. It was at one time -contemplated to train him to commercial business in the house of the -Fludyers, who were then considerable merchants in the city, and near -relations of his family: but the sudden death of both the partners of -that house put an end to these projects; and in the absence of other -occupation, his father employed him in keeping his accounts, and -sometimes receiving orders from customers. He had thus leisure to -cultivate tastes more congenial to his nature; and at the age of -fourteen he commenced that self-education, to which he owed all his -future success. Every volume of his father’s little collection, and of -the circulating libraries in the neighbourhood, was anxiously and -attentively perused. Ancient and modern history, treatises on science, -works of criticism, travels, and English poetry, were among his -favourite books. But a passion for poetry soon predominated over other -tastes; and from admiring the poetry of others he aspired at becoming a -poet himself. He wrote eclogues, songs, and satires, translated passages -from French poets, and imitated English ones; and resolving to devote -himself steadily to literature he hoped to acquire fame as an author. He -now set about learning Latin in earnest; and was soon able, by dint of -unremitting assiduity, and with some assistance from a private tutor, to -understand the easier Latin authors. In the course of about three years -he had read through Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus three times; he had -studied almost the whole of Cicero, as well as the principal poets; he -had gone through the Latin translations of the Greek historians, -orators, and philosophers; and had made numerous translations from the -Latin classics into English, which he retranslated into Latin. This -double exercise he found to be eminently useful in rendering him, what -he at length became, a very excellent scholar. In addition to these -studies, he attended lectures on natural philosophy, painting, -architecture, and anatomy. - -In the meanwhile he felt his father’s business become every day more -irksome; and it was definitively arranged that he should enter into some -branch of the law; a plan which he was enabled to execute by the -accession to the family of a considerable legacy. At the age of sixteen, -he was articled to Mr. Lally for five years, with a view of succeeding -to him as one of the six clerks in Chancery. The society, however, of -Mr. Lally and the pursuit of his literary tastes had greater attractions -for him than the regular occupation of the office; and although he -scrupulously performed the duties required of him, his favourite -classics engrossed a large portion of his time, and his mind was still -intent upon a life of peaceful retirement, and the prospect of literary -fame. - -At the expiration of the term of his apprenticeship, however, he -determined, much against the opinion of many of his friends, to study at -one of the inns of court, and to be called to the bar. His real motive -in deciding against a clerkship in chancery, which was then only to be -obtained by purchase, was little suspected at the time; it was, that he -might not be obliged to call for his share of the legacy just alluded -to, amounting to 2000_l._; which he knew it would be very inconvenient -to his father to pay. This trait of pious benevolence was, by a just -retribution, the pivot upon which his future fortunes more immediately -turned. - -It was not till he had attained his twenty-first year that he entered -upon these new studies; and they were pursued with so much persevering -assiduity, that at length he became seriously indisposed, and all -application was for months prohibited by his medical advisers. So -serious an interruption to his pursuits was likely to be most injurious -to him in his profession; when, fortunately, an opportunity occurred of -making an excursion to the continent. The Rev. John Roget, who had -recently married his sister, had been attacked with a pulmonary -complaint, which obliged him to remove with her to a southern climate, -leaving behind them in England their first and then only child. They -were no sooner settled at Lausanne, than they ardently desired to have -this child conveyed to them, and Mr. Romilly, from a deep sense of the -obligations he already owed to his brother-in-law for assisting him in -his studies, and supplying that judicious and well-timed encouragement, -which, on a susceptible and ardent mind, ever acts as the most powerful -incentive to exertion, readily undertook the charge. The change of air -and scene, the lively interest he took in visiting new countries, and -the consciousness of rendering no small service to relatives to whom he -was most affectionately attached, produced a rapid and favourable change -upon his health. Still more important was the effect produced on the -tone of his mind by this renewed intercourse with a friend, who had -early discerned his latent abilities and extraordinary capacity, and -who, on this occasion, placing before his view the wide field on which -those talents might be advantageously exercised, and the important -services he might thus be capable of rendering to his fellow-creatures, -produced impressions which were indelible, and which, as he himself has -often said, had a marked influence upon the subsequent events of his -life. - -On his return to England he resumed his studies with renovated strength -and with redoubled ardour. He was called to the bar in 1783. More than -ten years, however, elapsed before any real prospect of success opened -to him in his profession. It is true that he was employed in drawing -pleadings in chancery, and this business gradually increased; but it -never required him to open his lips in court; and although he regularly -attended the Midland circuit, he had no connexions on it, and it was not -until he commenced an attendance on the sessions that the circuit at -length became a source of some profit to him. In 1792 he appeared for -the first time as a leader: in a short time he was employed in almost -every case, and not many years passed before he was at the head of his -circuit. - -But we are anticipating a later period. In 1784 Mr. Romilly became -acquainted with Mirabeau, and through him with Lord Lansdowne. That -nobleman appreciated the knowledge and character of the rising lawyer, -and becoming intimate with him, did all in his power to encourage and -bring forth his talents. About the same time there was published a tract -by the Rev. Dr. Madan, entitled ‘Thoughts on Executive Justice.’ It had -attracted some attention, and was so much admired by Lord Lansdowne, -that he suggested to his friend the task of writing a treatise in the -same spirit. But Mr. Romilly was so much shocked at the principle upon -which it proceeded, namely, that of rigidly executing the criminal code -in all cases, barbarous and sanguinary as it then was, that, instead of -adopting its doctrines, he sat down to refute them. The triumphant reply -which he drew up and published anonymously did not meet with the success -it deserved. Nevertheless he had the satisfaction of hearing it praised -from the bench; and Lord Lansdowne himself had the singular candour to -acknowledge the merit of a production, which, although written at his -own suggestion, was at variance with the opinions he had desired to see -inculcated. - -Allusion has been made to Mr. Romilly’s acquaintance with Mirabeau. He -was one of those of whose talents Mirabeau had availed himself on more -than one occasion. It is unnecessary, however, to mention more than the -following instance, which is too characteristic to be omitted. During -one of Mr. Romilly’s visits to Paris, in 1788, curiosity led him to see -the prison of the Bicêtre, and on meeting Mirabeau the next day, he -described to him all the horror and disgust with which the place had -inspired him. Mirabeau, struck with the force of his description, begged -him to express it in writing, and to be allowed to use it. Mirabeau -translated and published this account in a pamphlet, which, in spite of -the title, ‘Lettre d’un Voyageur Anglais sur la Prison de Bicêtre,’ was -everywhere ascribed to him; while the real author, on his return to -England, printed his own MS. in the ‘Repository,’ as the translation, -although it was in fact the original. - -It was not till the autumn of 1796, when on a visit to Bowood, the -country-seat of Lord Lansdowne, that Mr. Romilly first met Miss Garbett, -to whom he was afterwards united, and who formed the charm of the -remainder of his existence. With such sacred inducements to renew his -efforts in his profession, his advancement was proportionably rapid. On -November 6, 1800, he was appointed king’s counsel; and it was soon clear -that he might aspire to the highest ranks of his profession. In 1806 he -was made Solicitor-general, under the administration of Mr. Fox and Lord -Grenville. He was, much against his will, knighted on his appointment; -and was brought into Parliament by the Government for Queenborough. Soon -after, he was called upon to sum up the evidence on the trial of Lord -Melville; a duty which he performed with consummate skill, though with a -feebleness of voice which deprived his most able speech of its just -effect in the vast hall where it was delivered. - -During the first session of his parliamentary career, Sir Samuel Romilly -confined himself principally to questions of law, and seldom addressed -the House, except in committee; but in the beginning of 1807 he took a -more prominent part, and made his first great speech in favour of the -abolition of the Slave-trade—a speech, which at once placed him on a -level with the most successful orators of the day. In this subject he -had always felt deep interest. From his earliest youth he had expressed -the warmest indignation against this infamous traffic; he had -translated, with a view to publication, Condorcet’s pamphlet against -West Indian slavery, and, at the beginning of the French Revolution, he -had written an eloquent paper against the Slave-trade, and had -transmitted it to his friend Dumont, from whom he trusted it would pass -to Mirabeau, and would remind him of the importance of the question, at -a time when a comparatively slight effort would have settled it in that -country for ever. These previous efforts had produced no effect; but he -had afterwards the satisfaction of belonging to the ministry to whom the -honour was due of abolishing the slave-trade, and of thus preparing the -way for putting an end to slavery itself. This ministry were soon after -dismissed from their offices, for not sacrificing their opinions in -favour of Catholic emancipation to the lamentable and persevering -prejudices entertained by George III. on that question, prejudices -adopted by his son and successor, to the infinite detriment of his -dominions. - -On the dissolution of parliament which followed, Sir Samuel Romilly, -having procured for himself a seat for Wareham, lost no time in -re-introducing a measure, which had been rejected in the former -parliament, to enable a creditor to obtain the payment of his debts from -the landed property of persons dying indebted. With a view to prevent -opposition, he had confined the operation of his measure to freehold -estates only. The bill, however, even in this modified form, met with -the greatest opposition. Its introduction by Sir Samuel was ascribed to -“his hereditary love of democracy;” it was denounced by Canning, “as the -first step of something that might end like the French Revolution, and -as a dangerous attack against the aristocracy, which was thus to be -sacrificed to the commercial interest;” and it was finally rejected by a -considerable majority. Rather than give up his object entirely, he -determined to make another concession to the prejudices of his -opponents; and a few days after the rejection of the measure, on -introducing a second bill on the same subject, he limited its operation -to the landed estates of _traders_. This expedient succeeded; the -aristocracy, caring little what became of traders’ estates, suffered the -bill to pass both houses without the slightest opposition, and it -received the Royal assent in August, 1807. After the lapse of seven -years, he made fresh attempts in favour of his original bill, but in -vain. It was indeed carried by the Commons, in 1814, by a majority of -nearly two to one; and again in the same house, in the two succeeding -years, without the slightest opposition; but on all these occasions it -was as regularly rejected by the House of Peers. The original measure, -including copyhold as well as freehold estates, has recently become part -of the law of the land. - -During the vacation of 1807 Sir Samuel Romilly prepared some of those -reforms in the criminal law, by which he is most known to the public. -For many years he had been intent on this subject, and had made it his -particular study. During repeated visits to the continent, he never -missed an opportunity of attending any important trial; and for the -sixteen years during which he attended the circuit, he had been in the -habit of noting down whatever appeared to him worthy of observation in -the criminal courts. Shocked at instances of judicial injustice, which -thus fell under his notice, he had secretly resolved that, if it should -ever be in his power, he would endeavour to provide a remedy for such -gross abuses. The principles of his intended reforms were contained in -his answer to Dr. Madan. He held that the prevention of crime is more -effectually accomplished by certainty than by severity of punishment; -that to approximate to certainty of punishment, it was necessary to -mitigate the severities of the penal code; that, unless this were done, -there would still be an indisposition on the part of the public to -prosecute, of witnesses to give evidence, of juries to convict, and even -of judges to put in execution the sentences they had themselves -passed;—that all these were so many chances of escape offered to a -culprit, operating rather as encouragements than as checks to crime. -These doctrines, then so new, although now received as axioms, made but -few converts at first; and it was not till they were again brought -before the public in the House of Commons, in 1808, that they attracted -some of that attention to which they were entitled. One of his first -bills, which repealed the punishment of death for stealing privately -from the person to the amount of five shillings, passed both houses with -but little opposition; but, as the number of prosecutions increased in -consequence, it was alleged that the crime itself had increased, and -that all similar reforms would be attended with similar mischief. -Romilly urged in vain that, when the measure was under consideration, he -had foretold that it would produce an increase of prosecutions; and that -this, far from being an argument against the mitigation of punishment, -was the best proof of its efficacy. In vain did he defend his principle, -with the varied stores of his knowledge, with the most powerful -arguments, and with the eloquence of deep conviction. The mature -reflections of above thirty years’ study and experience were treated as -the rash innovations of a wild theorist. The effect of government -circulars was too seldom counteracted by the attendance of his own -political friends; no party advantage could be gained from such -enlightened labours; there was no large and powerful body in the country -to second his efforts; and when, at length, after unremitting -perseverance, he occasionally succeeded in carrying a bill through the -Commons, it was rarely permitted to pass through the ordeal of the Upper -House. But these efforts were not thrown away. His views, ably and -diligently supported by Sir James Mackintosh and others, have since been -confirmed and acted on even by his political opponents. The credit which -was due to him who had sown the seed has since been claimed by those who -reaped it; but the harvest is not lost to the public. - -But Romilly did not shrink from taking an active part on questions more -generally interesting to the public, even though the avowal of his -opinions might endanger his advancement in life. A remarkable instance -of this kind occurred in the beginning of 1809, when the conduct of the -Duke of York was brought before the house by Colonel Wardle. He was -aware that to support this inquiry would not be less obnoxious to many -members of the former government than to those then in office. It had -been significantly intimated to him that the Prince of Wales would -consider any attack on the duke as an attack on himself; and he felt -under some obligation to the Prince for having formerly offered him a -seat in parliament, which, however, he had declined. Such was his -position; entertaining, however, a strong opinion on the subject, he -resolved not to abandon his duty; and he spoke and voted in favour of -the motion. He concluded his speech in these words: “The venerable -judge[5] who took an early part in the discussion of this question has -attested the sincerity of his vote by an affecting allusion to his age -and infirmities, to the few inducements which the remainder of his life -presented to him. I cannot say the same thing. Not labouring under the -same affliction, and not having arrived at the same period of life, I -may reasonably be allowed for myself, and for those who are most dear to -me, to indulge hopes of prosperity yet to come. Reflecting on the -vicissitudes of human life, I may entertain apprehensions of adversity -and persecution which perhaps await me. I have, however, the -satisfaction to reflect, that it is not possible for me to hope to -derive, in any way the most remote, advantages from the vote which upon -this occasion I shall give, and from the part which I have thought it my -duty to act.” - -Footnote 5: - - Mr. Barton, a Welsh judge, who was then at the age of nearly seventy, - and deprived of his sight. - -These anticipations were afterwards corroborated by several persons, who -told him, that after such a speech, he must give up all thoughts of ever -being Chancellor. The public also felt that he had made a sacrifice in -their cause. Thanks were voted to him in conjunction with Mr. Whitbread, -Lord Folkstone, and some others, from the City of London, Liverpool, -Carmarthen, Wiltshire, Bristol, Berwick, &c. &c.; and he was invited by -the Livery of London to a public dinner, as a mark of approbation of his -conduct. He declined, however, to accept the intended honour, and his -answers to the addresses were drawn up with that unaffected modesty, and -love of simple truth, which were so peculiarly characteristic of his -mind. Instead of dwelling upon his own merit, he drew the picture of -what would have been thought of him had he pursued an opposite course. -“Seeing the case,” he said in his answer to the Livery, “in the light in -which I saw it, to have acted otherwise than I did, I must have been -base enough to have deserted my public duty upon a most important -occasion, from the mean apprehension that to discharge my duty might be -attended with personal disadvantage to myself. If there be much merit in -not having been actuated by such unworthy motives, (which I cannot -think, but if there be,) that merit I certainly may pretend to, &c.” - -The course which he took in the year following on the imprisonment of -Gale Jones, and the alleged breach of privilege by Sir Francis Burdett, -was again at variance with that adopted by either of the two great -parties in the house. The Opposition as well as the Ministry, and all -the lawyers who took any part in the debate, concurred in thinking the -paper written by Sir Francis Burdett a breach of privilege, and -deserving of punishment of one kind or another; while Romilly maintained -that the house had no jurisdiction to take cognizance of the offence. He -did not dispute the right to imprison for a breach of privilege which -obstructed their proceedings, but he denied the right and the policy of -doing so for the publication of animadversions on matters already -concluded. He urged that these latter questions “ought not to be decided -on by the house, which thus constituted itself prosecutor, party, and -judge, without affording to the accused the opportunity of even hearing -the charges preferred against him; but they ought to be left to the -ordinary tribunals, the courts of law.” These arguments, disregarded at -the time, were amply justified by the events which followed. The folly -of the course adopted was proved by serious disturbances, attended with -the loss of life; petitions couched in the most disrespectful language -were sent up, and inserted on the Journals; and the question of the -privileges of the Commons came, in the first instance, before the courts -of law, and was finally decided by the House of Lords. Invitations to -public dinners were again sent to him, which he again declined; and -addresses of thanks were voted “for the stand he had made in favour of -the dominion of the law, against arbitrary discretion and undefined -privilege.” - -But it was not only in this way that the public showed how much they -appreciated his integrity and independence. In 1812 he was pressed to -allow himself to be put in nomination for several large constituencies; -amongst others for Liverpool, Chester, Middlesex, and Bristol. At -Bristol, his past political conduct was considered a sufficient -guarantee for the future; no pledge was required of him, he was to be -put to no expense, and it was agreed that he should be excused from -personal canvas. On terms so honourable he consented to be put in -nomination; and although a total stranger in the town, his reception was -most encouraging, and there seemed every prospect of success. -Nevertheless the common but dishonest maxim, of every thing being fair -at an election, being acted upon by the opposite party, it was soon -evident that he would not be returned; and on the seventh day he -resigned any further contest. - -Although his opinions were not as yet to receive the sanction of any -large and popular constituency, he did not relax his efforts in favour -of the rights and interests of the people. On being returned for -Horsham, during the six sessions which this parliament lasted, we find -him the same strenuous advocate for civil liberty and religious -toleration in the most extensive sense of the words, at home and abroad; -the same determined enemy to peculation and corruption, the same ardent -and judicious reformer of the laws; “incapable on every occasion of -being swerved from his duty by the threats of power, the allurements of -the great, the temptations of private interest, or even the seduction of -popular favour. All the toil, the pain, and the fatigue of his duties -were his own; all the advantage which resulted from his labours were for -the public.” - -He spoke and voted against military flogging, the game laws, the -punishment of the pillory, the poor laws, the law of libel, and -lotteries; against the suspension of the Habeas Corpus act, Lord -Sidmouth’s circular letter, and the employment of spies and informers; -and against the persecution of the Protestants in France, and the Alien -bill at home; in favour of Catholic emancipation, the education of the -poor, and the liberty of the press. He was always a zealous advocate for -peace; against the system of the corn laws, and all restrictions on -commerce, and he was in favour of an extensive change in the -representation of the people, of shortening the duration of parliament, -and ensuring the free exercise of the elective franchise. He was also in -favour of the promulgation of laws, of allowing counsel to prisoners, of -giving compensation to those who had been unjustly accused, of greatly -extending the rules respecting the admission of evidence; of introducing -secondary punishments, and of instituting a public prosecutor; and all -this not more for the sake of humanity towards the guilty, than for the -great ends of justice, the prevention of crime, and the reform of -criminals. - -At the conclusion of this parliament in 1818, Sir Samuel Romilly, after -having again been invited to stand for several large constituencies, by -any of which he was assured he would be elected, was at length put in -nomination for Westminster; and although he was violently opposed by the -court on the one side, and by the ultra popular party on the other; -although, during the whole of the contest, he was calmly pursuing his -professional duties in the Court of Chancery, and never once appeared on -the hustings till the conclusion, he was returned at the head of the -poll. After his election, he did all in his power to avoid the ceremony -of chairing; but on his objections being over-ruled, his greatest -pleasure was when, after he had addressed the multitude from the windows -of Burlington House, he was able to escape by a back door and walk by -the less frequented streets to his home, there to receive -congratulations no less hearty, and more congenial to his temper and -taste. But he did not live to take his seat. A life of uninterrupted and -rarely equalled domestic happiness, and of great success in his -professional and political career, was suddenly embittered by the loss -of that being, to whom he had been deeply and devotedly attached for -above twenty years, and with whom he had ever considered his happiness -and prosperity as being indissolubly connected. He sank under this -calamity, and mankind was deprived of his services for ever[6]. - -Footnote 6: - - Strong symptoms of an incipient brain fever showed themselves, and - these increased so rapidly as to produce, before they could be - checked, a temporary delirium, as most frequently happens in that - malady; and in this paroxysm he terminated his existence, November 22, - 1818, three days after Lady Romilly’s death. - -Romilly was reserved and silent in general society, but affectionate, -entertaining, and instructive with his friends; and full of joyousness, -humour, and playfulness with his children, and in the bosom of his -family. He was endowed with a lively imagination, he was fond of -retirement, and was a passionate admirer of the beauties of nature. -Indefatigable in his profession and in parliament, he yet found time to -keep up with the literature of the day, to write criticisms on the books -which he read, to keep a regular diary of his political career, and to -compose essays on various branches of the criminal law. His eloquence -was of that kind which never fails to make a lasting impression: it was -full of earnest conviction and deep sensibility. He was a great master -of sarcasm, but he considered it an unfair weapon and rarely employed -it. So jealous was he of his independence, that when he was -solicitor-general, and one of his nephews was peculiarly anxious to be -placed in the Military Academy at Woolwich, he refused to lay himself -under any obligation, even for so slight a favour; and the application -was never made. Few ever gained so large a portion of public favour, and -yet so studiously avoided courting popularity; and no one ever rose -higher in the esteem of his political contemporaries. Unsullied in -character as a lawyer, as a politician, and as a man, his life, which -was prolonged to the age of sixty-one, was a life of happiness and of -honour. No statues are erected to his memory; no titles descend to his -children; but he has bequeathed a richer, a prouder, and a more lasting -inheritance, than any which the world can bestow: the recollection of -his virtues is still fresh in the minds of his countrymen, and the -sacrifices he made in the cause of humanity will not be forgotten by -mankind. - - - - -[Illustration] - - SHAKSPEARE. - - -The materials which we possess for the biography of Shakspeare are very -unsatisfactory. The earliest life is that by the poet Rowe, who, as if -aware of its scantiness, merely entitles it ‘Some Account.’ It contains -what little the author could collect, when no sources of information -were left open but the floating traditions of the theatre after the -lapse of nearly a century. Mr. Malone prefixed a new life to his -edition, extending to above 500 pages; but he only brings his author to -London, and as to his professional progress, adds nothing to Rowe’s -meagre tale, except some particles of information previously -communicated in notes by himself and Steevens. - -William Shakspeare was born at Stratford-upon-Avon in Warwickshire, -April 23, 1564. He was one of ten children. His father was a dealer in -wool, as it is generally said, but according to Malone, a glover, and -alderman in the corporation of Stratford. Our great poet received such -education as the lower forms of the Grammar School at Stratford could -give him; but he was removed from that establishment at an early age, to -serve as clerk in a country attorney’s office. This anecdote of his -boyhood receives confirmation from the frequent recurrence of technical -law-phrases in his plays; and it has been remarked that he derives none -of his allusions from other learned professions. Before he was eighteen -years of age he contracted a marriage with Anne Hathaway, a woman some -years older than himself, and the daughter of a substantial yeoman in -his own neighbourhood. He went to London about 1586, when he was but -twenty-two years of age, being obliged, as the common story goes, to fly -the country, in consequence of being detected in deer-stealing. This -tale is thought to be confirmed by the ridicule cast on his supposed -prosecutor, Sir Thomas Lucy, in the character of Justice Shallow, -pointed as it is by the - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by E. Scriven._ - - SHAKSPEARE. - - _From the Picture in the Possession of His Grace the Duke of - Buckingham, at Stowe._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street. June 1, 1835._ -] - -commendation of the “dozen white luces as a good coat.” But as this is -the only lawless action which tradition has imputed to one of the most -amiable and inoffensive of men, we may perhaps esteem the tale to be the -mere gossip of the tiring-room: indeed, Malone has adduced several -arguments to prove that it cannot be correctly told. It is not necessary -to suppose that Shakspeare was compelled to fly his native town because -he came to the metropolis; his emigration is sufficiently accounted for -by his father’s falling into distressed circumstances, and being obliged -in this very year, 1586, to resign his alderman’s gown on that account. -Another traditional anecdote, that Shakspeare’s first employment was to -wait at the play-house door, and hold the horses of those who had no -servants, is discredited by Mr. Steevens, who says, “That it was once -the general custom to ride on horseback to the play I am yet to learn. -The most popular of the theatres were on the Bankside; and we are told -by the satirical pamphleteers of that time that the usual mode of -conveyance to those places of amusement was by water; but not a single -writer so much as hints at the custom of riding to them, or at the -practice of having horses held during the hours of exhibition. Let it be -remembered too, that we receive this tale on no higher authority than -that of Cibber’s ‘Lives of the Poets.’” - -Nothing is authentically proved with respect to Shakspeare’s -introduction to the stage. His first play is dated by Malone in 1589, -three years after the time assigned for the author’s arrival in London. -It appears from the dedication to ‘Venus and Adonis,’ published in 1593, -in which he calls that poem “the first heir of his invention,” that his -earliest essays were not in dramatic composition. The ‘Lucrece,’ -published in 1594, and the collection of sonnets, entitled the -‘Passionate Pilgrim,’ published in 1599, also belong to an early period -of his poetical life. The ‘Lover’s Complaint,’ and a larger collection -of sonnets, were printed in 1609. It may be conjectured that he was led -to write for the stage in consequence of the advice and introduction of -Thomas Green, an eminent comedian of the day, who was his townsman, if -not his relation. Shakspeare trod the boards himself, but he never rose -to eminence as an actor: it is recorded that the Ghost in ‘Hamlet’ was -his masterpiece. But the instructions to the players in ‘Hamlet’ exhibit -a clear and delicate perception of what an actor ought to be, however -incompetent the writer might be to furnish the example in his own -person. - -The extent of Shakspeare’s learning has been much controverted. Dr. -Johnson speaks of it thus: “It is most likely that he had learned Latin -sufficiently to make him acquainted with construction, but that he never -advanced to an easy perusal of the Roman authors. Concerning his skill -in modern languages, I can find no sufficient ground of determination; -but as no imitations of French or Italian authors have been discovered, -though the Italian poetry was then high in esteem, I am inclined to -believe that he read little more than English, and chose for his fables -only such tales as he found translated.” Other writers have contended -that he must have been acquainted with the Greek and Roman classics: but -Dr. Farmer, in his ‘Essay on the Learning of Shakspeare,’ has accounted -in a very satisfactory manner for the frequent allusions to the facts -and fables of antiquity to be met with in Shakspeare’s writings, without -supposing that he read the classic authors in their original languages. -The supposition indeed is at variance with his whole history. Dr. Farmer -has particularly specified the English translations of the classics then -extant, and concludes on the whole, that the studies of Shakspeare were -confined to nature and his own language. - -The merit of Shakspeare did not escape the notice of Queen Elizabeth. He -evinced his gratitude for her patronage in that beautiful passage in the -‘Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ where he speaks of her as “a fair vestal, -throned in the west.” - -Sheffield, Duke of Buckinghamshire, is the relater of an anecdote which -shows the continuance of high favour to our author. It is expressed in -these words: that “the most learned prince and great patron of learning, -King James I., was pleased with his own hand to write an amicable letter -to Mr. Shakspeare;” and Dr. Farmer supposes, with apparent probability, -that this honour was conferred in return for the compliment paid to the -monarch in ‘Macbeth.’ Shakspeare also possessed the esteem of, and was -admitted to familiar intercourse with, the accomplished Earls of -Southampton and Essex; and enjoyed the friendship of his great -contemporary Ben Jonson. - -Of the poet’s career before the London public nothing authentic has come -down to us; and perhaps if more were known, it might not be worth -recording. But his retirement in 1611 or 1612, about four years before -his death, though it afford no story, furnishes a pleasing reflection. -He had left his native place, poor and almost unknown: he returned to -it, not rich, but with a competence and an unblemished character. His -good-natured wit made him a welcome member of private society when he no -longer set the theatre in a roar; and he ended his days in habits of -intimacy, and in some cases in the bonds of friendship, with the leading -gentlemen of the neighbourhood. He died on his birthday, April 23, 1616, -when he had completed his fifty-second year. If we look merely at the -state in which he left his productions, we should be apt to conclude -that he was insensible of their value. To quote the words of Dr. -Johnson, “It does not appear that Shakspeare thought his works worthy of -posterity; that he levied any ideal tribute upon future times, or had -any further prospect than that of present popularity and present -profit.” But the imperfect form in which they came before the public is -not necessarily to be accounted for by this extravagance of humility. It -is clear that any publication of his plays by himself would have -interfered at first with his own interest, and afterwards with the -interest of those to whom he made over his share in them; besides which, -such was the revulsion of the public taste, that the publication of his -works by Hemings and Condell was accounted a doubtful speculation. For -several years after his death the plays of Beaumont and Fletcher were -more frequently acted than those of Shakspeare; and the beautiful works -of the joint dramatists afterwards gave place to the rhyming rhapsodies -of Dryden and the bombast of Lee. Garrick brought back the public to -Shakspeare and every-day nature; Kemble exhibited him in the more -refined dress of classical taste and philosophy. - -Mr. Malone has observed, that our author’s prose compositions, should -they be discovered, would exhibit the same perspicuity, the same -cadence, the same elegance and vigour, which we find in his plays. In -1751, an attempt was made to impose on the public by a book entitled ‘A -Compendious or Brief Examination of certayne Ordinary Complaints of -divers of our Countrymen in these our Days, &c., by William Shakspeare, -Gentleman;’ the signature to which, in the original edition of 1581, was -“W. S., Gent.;” and Dr. Farmer has clearly proved the initials to mean -“William Stafford, Gent.” Another and more impudent forgery was -attempted by Ireland, who published in 1795 a volume, entitled -‘Shakspeare’s Manuscripts.’ The fraud met with partial success, and the -tragedy of ‘Vortigern’ was performed as one of Shakspeare’s, to the -great disgust, it is said, of John Kemble, who had to act in it much -against his will. Malone exposed the imposition in 1796, and Ireland -himself ultimately acknowledged it. With respect to the probable -character of Shakspeare’s prose compositions, it is needless to -speculate on it, as we have no reason to believe that he ever wrote any -prose, except for the stage. - -Some interesting criticisms of Mrs. Siddons on the chief female -characters of Shakspeare will be found in the life of that eminent -actress in this volume. We may here introduce another observation of -hers on Constance in ‘King John.’ She said that the intuition of -Shakspeare in delineating that character struck her as all but -supernatural: she could scarcely conceive the possibility of any man -possessing himself so thoroughly with the most intense and most inward -feelings of the other sex: had Shakspeare been a woman and a mother, he -must have felt neither less nor more than as he wrote. - -The two first folio editions are in great request among book-collectors, -and, owing to their scarcity, fetch high prices at auctions. They have -nothing to recommend them either as to accuracy or elegance of -typography, but are really valuable for the various readings which they -contain. The best modern editions are those of Johnson and Steevens, and -Malone. The last edition is the posthumous one of Malone, edited by -Boswell, and little room is left for any farther elucidation of our -great dramatist, as far as verbal criticism is concerned. But for the -higher branches of criticism, the works of such a poet are as -inexhaustible as those of Homer; and if his fame be equally immortal, -its fate is more singular. However ardent may be the admiration of Homer -on the part of modern scholars, and however profound their investigation -of his merits, far from pretending to discoveries unknown to the Grecian -critics and philosophers, they support their own views by constant -references to the ancients; but Shakspeare has found his most elaborate, -and with certain drawbacks, his best critics, among foreigners. In -England Shakspeare is the idol of those who read either for the -amusement of the imagination, or as students not of poetical or -metaphysical, but of every-day nature; and his English editors have -rather criticised down to the level of such readers, than aimed at -ripening their taste, or elevating their conceptions. We find eminent -men among them, such as Pope, Warburton, and Johnson, yet none well -qualified to perform the highest functions of a commentator. Johnson’s -Preface is highly valued for the justness of his general criticism, and -his vindication of the poet on the score of the unities is triumphantly -conclusive. But his remarks at the end of each play are so jejune and -superficial, that short as they are, no reader perhaps ever wished them -longer. One cannot help wondering that the acute, and in many instances -profound, though sometimes partial, critic of Cowley, Milton, Dryden, -Pope and Gray, should have skimmed so lightly over the surface of -Shakspeare. Not so his German translators and critics. No sooner did the -Germans take up the study of English literature, than they selected -Shakspeare on whom to try their powers; and they are thought to have -dived deeper into his mind than have his own countrymen, with their -apparently better opportunities. Nor is this wonderful: for they have -regarded the poet not merely as the minister of amusement to an admiring -audience, but as a metaphysical philosopher of nature’s forming, -possessed of deepest insight into the complex motives which move the -hearts, and stimulate the actions of mankind. And seeking with a -reverent attention to trace the workings of the _maker’s_ mind (for in -this instance there is a peculiar propriety in translating the Greek -word _poet_) they have succeeded in furnishing profound and satisfactory -explanations of much that less intellectual critics had treated as -instances of the author’s irregular and capricious genius. In this, as -in other branches of German literature, Goëthe stands pre-eminent: and -the translation of his ‘Wilhelm Meister’ has placed within the reach of -all readers a series of original and masterly criticisms, especially on -that stumbling-block of commentators, the character of Hamlet. We may -quote as a specimen his exposition of the principle upon which the -anomalies of the Prince of Denmark’s conduct are to be solved. “It is -clear to me that Shakspeare’s intention was to exhibit the effects of a -great action, imposed as a duty upon a mind too feeble for its -accomplishment. In this case I find the character consistent throughout. -Here is an oak tree planted in a china vase, proper only to receive the -most delicate flowers. The roots strike out and the vessel flies to -pieces. A pure, noble, highly moral disposition, but without that energy -of soul which constitutes the hero, sinks under a load which it can -neither support nor endure to abandon altogether. _All_ his obligations -are sacred to him; but this alone is above his powers! An impossibility -is required at his hands; not an impossibility in itself, but that which -is so to him. Observe, how he turns, shifts, hesitates, advances, and -recedes;—how he is continually reminded and reminding himself of his -real commission, which he nevertheless in the end seems almost entirely -to lose sight of, and this without ever recovering his former -tranquillity!” How different this from the praise of _variety_ allowed -to this tragedy by Johnson, to “the pretended madness, causing mirth,” -without any adequate cause for feigning it, and the objection that -through the whole piece he is “rather an instrument than an agent!” - -Malone’s “attempt to ascertain the order in which the plays of -Shakspeare were written” occupies 180 pages. Where so many words are -necessary, the arrangement to be justified may not be very certain; but -that of Malone is generally received. It runs thus: The First Part of -King Henry VI., 1589. Second and Third Parts, Two Gentlemen of Verona, -1591. Comedy of Errors, 1592. King Richard II. and III., 1593. Love’s -Labour’s Lost, Merchant of Venice, Midsummer Night’s Dream, 1594. Taming -of the Shrew, Romeo and Juliet, King John, 1596. First Part of King -Henry IV., 1597. Second Part, All’s well that ends well, 1598. King -Henry V., As You like it, 1599. Much ado about Nothing, Hamlet, 1600. -Merry Wives of Windsor, 1601. Troilus and Cressida, 1602. Measure for -Measure, King Henry VIII., 1603. Othello, 1604. King Lear, 1605. -Macbeth, 1606. Twelfth Night, Julius Cæsar, 1607. Antony and Cleopatra, -1608. Cymbeline, 1609. Coriolanus, Timon of Athens, 1610. Winter’s Tale, -1611. Tempest, 1612. Except the placing of the historical plays in -separate succession, the order of Malone’s edition follows the above -dates. Previous editions arranged the plays as comedies, histories, and -tragedies, beginning with the Tempest, the last written, and ending with -Othello. We must add to the list of plays ascribed to Shakspeare, and -included in the editions of his works, Pericles and Titus Andronicus, -which are now acknowledged not to be the composition of Shakspeare, -though perhaps retouched by him. The Yorkshire Tragedy, Lord Cromwell, -and others, have still less right to bear the honour of his name. - -[Illustration: [Shakspeare’s Monument at Stratford-upon-Avon.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by B. Holl._ - - EULER. - - _From a Picture by A. Lorgna in the Collection of the Institute of - France._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - EULER. - - -Leonard Euler[7] was born at Basle, April 15, 1707. His father was the -clergyman of Reichen, near Basle, and had himself been a pupil of James -Bernouilli. He intended his son for his own profession, and after having -been himself his first instructor in mathematics, sent him to the -university of Basle. John Bernouilli was at this time Professor, and his -sons, Nicolas and Daniel, two more of the _eight_ Bernouillis known to -the history of science, were under him. With the sons Euler contracted -an intimate friendship; and obtained such a degree of favour even with -their father, that the latter gave him a private lesson weekly, upon -points more advanced than those treated in the public course. This was a -strong mark of favour from John Bernouilli, who was of an unamiable -disposition, jealous of his brother, of his son, and finally of almost -every one who displayed a superior talent for mathematics. Euler at -first turned his attention to theology, in accordance with the wishes of -his father, but this was not of long continuance. At the age of -nineteen, besides obtaining a degree from his University, he had merited -the notice of the Academy of Sciences for a memoir on some points of -naval architecture. In the same year, he was an unsuccessful candidate -for a Professorship at Basle, an unlucky event, M. Condorcet observes, -for his country, inasmuch as a few days afterwards he left it for -Russia, and never returned. His friends the Bernouillis (Nicolas and -Daniel) had, two years before, accepted invitations from the Empress -Catherine; and he followed them in hopes of obtaining employment and -subsistence at St. Petersburgh. But by the time he arrived, both Nicolas -Bernouilli and the Empress were dead, the Academy of St. Petersburgh was -left without a patron, and Euler, a nameless stranger, could not for a -long time obtain any settled avocation. How he maintained himself we are -not told; but he was upon the point of entering the Russian service as a -sailor, when his prospects brightened, and he obtained the place of -Professor of Natural Philosophy. In 1733 he succeeded Daniel Bernouilli, -who returned to his own country, as Professor of Mathematics. In the -same year he married a young lady named Gsell, the daughter of an artist -of Basle, who had emigrated to Russia in the reign of Peter the Great. - -Footnote 7: - - We have followed the _éloge_ of Condorcet as to facts and dates. We - should have preferred that of M. Fuss, but have not had the - opportunity of seeing it. The mere biographical details of Euler’s - life are, however, of the simplest character. - -The despotism of the Russian government could not please the republican -born; but circumstances obliged him to endure it till 1741, when he -quitted Petersburgh for Berlin on the invitation of Frederic the Great. -To the necessity for continual reserve and government of the tongue -which was necessary in the Russian capital has been attributed his love -of silence and study, which exceeded all that is related of any of his -contemporaries. The mother of Frederic, who was as much attached to the -conversation of distinguished men as the King himself, could never -obtain more than a few syllables from Euler at any one time. On her -asking the reason why he would not speak, he is said to have replied, -“Madam, I have lived in a country where men who speak are hanged.” - -Euler remained at Berlin till 1766. In 1761 he lost his mother, who had -resided with him for eleven years. During this time he was not -considered as having abandoned his Russian engagements, and a part of -his salary was regularly paid. When the Russians invaded Brandenburg in -1760, a farm belonging to him was destroyed, but he was immediately more -than reimbursed, by the order of the Empress Elizabeth. On the -invitation of that princess he consented to return to Petersburgh in -1766. He had for some years suffered from weakness in the eyes; and not -long after his return to Russia he became so nearly blind, that he could -distinguish nothing except very large letters marked with chalk on a -slate. In this state he continued for the remainder of his life; and by -constant exercise he acquired a power of recollection, whether of -mathematical formulæ or figures, which would be totally incredible, if -it were not supported by strong evidence. He formed in his head, and -retained in his memory, a table of the first six powers of all numbers -up to 100, containing about 3000 figures. Two of his pupils had summed -seventeen terms of a converging series, and differed by a unit in the -fiftieth decimal of the result; Euler decided between them correctly by -a mental calculation[8]. His chief amusement during his deprivation was -the formation of artificial magnets, and the instruction of one of his -grandchildren in mathematics. His studies were in no degree relaxed by -it. In 1771 Euler’s house was destroyed by fire, together with a -considerable part of the city. He was himself saved by a -fellow-countryman named Grimm, and his manuscripts were also rescued. In -1776 he married the aunt of his first wife. No other event worthy of -special notice occurred before his death, which took place suddenly, -September 7, 1783. He had been employed in calculating the laws of the -ascent of balloons, which were then newly introduced; he afterwards -dined with his family and M. Lexell, his pupil, conversed with them on -the newly-discovered planet of Herschel, and was amusing himself with -one of his grandchildren; suddenly the pipe which he held in his hand -dropped on the ground, and it was found that[9] “life and calculation -were at an end.” He had thirteen children, of whom only three survived -him; one of them, John Albert Euler, was known as a mathematician. - -Footnote 8: - - We suspect some mistake in this account, which is constantly given. A - very surprising story ought to be consistent: now it is difficult to - believe that any series which was actually employed in practice (and - people do not sum series to fifty places for amusement) would converge - so quickly, as to give fifty places in seventeen terms. The well-known - series for the base of Napier’s logarithms is called a rapidly - converging series, and gives about fifteen places in seventeen terms. - We cannot help thinking, either that Euler settled one disputed term - only, or that there is some mistake about the number of figures. - -Footnote 9: - - Il cessa de calculer et de vivre.—CONDORCET. - -Of the scientific character of Euler it is impossible to speak in -detail, since even the _resumé_ of M. Condorcet, which is much longer -than any account we can here insert, is meagre in the extreme; and we -imagine that the reader would form no idea whatsoever of the man we are -describing, from any brief enumeration of discoveries for which we -should be able to allow room. In more than fifty years of incessant -thought, Euler wrote thirty separate works and more than seven hundred -memoirs: which could not altogether be contained in forty large quarto -volumes. These writings embrace every existing branch of mathematics, -and almost every conceivable application of them, to such an extent, -that there is no one among mathematicians, past or present, who can be -placed near to Euler in the enormous variety of the subjects which he -treated. And the contents of these volumes are without exception the -original fruit of his own brain; seeing that he left no subject as he -found it. He is not a diffuse writer, except in giving a large number of -examples, and this renders him in some respects the most instructive of -all writers. His works are full of the most original thoughts developed -in the most original manner; so that they have been a mine of -information for his successors, which is even now far from being -exhausted. Let a student be employed upon any subject connected with -mathematics, however remotely, and he has discovered but little if he -has not found out that Euler was there before him. - -Of all mathematical writers, Euler is one of the most simple, and this -in a manner which renders his writings not by any means a sound -preparation for future investigations. Difficulties seem to have -disappeared in the progress, or never to have been encountered; and the -student is rather made to feel that Euler could take him anywhere, than -furnished with the means of providing for himself, when his guide shall -have left him. Hence the writings of others, in every way inferior to -Euler in elegance and simplicity, are to be preferred, and have been -preferred, for the formation of mathematical power. - -Euler is to be measured by the assistance which he gave to his immediate -successors, and here it is well known that he paved the way for the -research of others in a more effectual manner than any of his -contemporaries. The incessant repetition of his name in later authors is -sufficient authority for this assertion. His writings are the first in -which the modern analysis is uniformly the instrument of investigation. -His predecessors, James and John Bernouilli, had perhaps the largest -share in bringing the infinitesimal analysis of Newton and Leibnitz to -the state of power required for extensive application. To Euler (besides -important extensions) belongs the distinct merit of showing how to apply -it to physical investigations, in conjunction with D’Alembert, who ran a -splendid and contemporary career of a similar character in this respect. -But though it would be perhaps admitted that there are individual -results of the latter which exceed anything done by the former, in -generality of application, there is no comparison whatsoever between the -extent of the labours of the two. - -Euler was a man of a simple, reserved, and benevolent mind; with a -strong sense of devotion, and a decided religious habit, according to -the Calvinism of the Established Church of his country. At the court of -Frederic, he himself conducted the devotions of his family every -evening; a practice which then and there implied much moral courage, and -insensibility to ridicule. But he possessed humour, for when he was -asked to calculate the horoscope of one of the Russian princes, he -quietly suggested that it was the official duty of the astronomer, and -imposed the duty upon a colleague, who doubtless did not feel very much -flattered by the application. - -There are few men whom the usual biographical formulæ as to moral -character and habits would better fit than Euler, according to every -account which has appeared of him. But such praises are no distinction; -and it will be more to the purpose to state that the only occasion in -which he was betrayed into printing a word which his eulogists have -regretted, was in the dispute between Maupertuis and himself against -others on the principle known by the name of _least action_, one of the -warmest and most angry discussions which ever took place. - -Perhaps it is to the quiet abstraction of his life that he owed the -perpetuity of his tenure of investigation. Many eminent mathematical -discoverers have run the brilliant part of their career while -comparatively young. Euler “ceased to calculate and to live” at once. -But it may be that this was a part of his natural constitution, and a -distinct feature of his mind. The nature of his writings rather confirms -the latter supposition. There is the same difference between them and -those of others, that there is between conversation and oratory. He -seems to be moving in his natural element, where others are swimming for -their lives. - -The best works of Euler for a young mathematician to read, in order to -get an idea of his style and methods, are the ‘_Analysis Infinitorum_,’ -and the ‘_Treatise on the Integral Calculus_.’ - - - - -[Illustration] - - SIR W. JONES. - - -William Jones, the most accomplished Oriental scholar of the last -century, an upright magistrate, and eminent benefactor of the native -subjects of our Indian dominions, was born in London on Michaelmas Eve, -1746. His father, a man esteemed by his contemporaries, a skilful -mathematician, and the friend of Newton, died in July, 1749. His mother -then devoted herself entirely to the education of this her only -surviving son; and to her careful and judicious culture of his infant -years, bestowed indeed upon a happy soil, is to be ascribed the early -development of that thirst for learning and faculty of profitable -application, which enabled Jones to accumulate in a short and busy life -a quantity and variety of abstruse knowledge, such as the same age does -not often see equalled. To the end of her life he acknowledged and -repaid her care and affection by ardent love and unchanging filial -respect. When only seven years old, he was sent to Harrow. His progress, -slow at first, afterwards became most rapid; and the head master, Dr. -Thackeray, a man not given to praise, spoke of him as “a boy of so -active a mind, that if he were left naked and friendless on Salisbury -Plain he would find the way to fame and riches.” - -At the time of his quitting school, besides a much deeper acquaintance -with the classical languages than usually falls to the lot of a -schoolboy, Jones had acquired the French and Italian languages, had -commenced the study of Hebrew, and (a thing only worth mention as -indicative of his tastes) had made himself acquainted with the Arabic -letters. Botany, the collection of fossils, and composition in English -verse, were his favourite amusements at this period. March 16, 1764, he -was entered as a student of University College, Oxford. He was elected a -scholar on the Bennett foundation, October 30, 1764; and fellow on the -same foundation, August 7, 1766, before he was of standing to proceed to -the degree of B.A., which he took in 1768. At an early period of his -residence he applied in earnest - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by J. Posselwhite._ - - SIR WILLIAM JONES. - - _From the Picture in the Hall of University College, Oxford._ - - Under the Superintendence of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - -to the study of Arabic; and his zeal was such, that, though habitually -self-denying, and anxious not to trespass on his mother’s slender -income, he maintained at Oxford, at his own expense, a Syrian, with whom -he had become acquainted in London, for the benefit to be derived from -his instruction. From the Arabic he proceeded to learn the Persian -language. - -His residence was varied, though his favourite studies do not appear to -have been interrupted, by an invitation to undertake the care of the -late Lord Spencer, then a boy of seven years old. This was in 1765. The -next five years he spent with his pupil chiefly at Harrow, and -occasionally at Althorp, or in London, or on the continent. It appears -from the college books that he resided at Oxford very little in the -years 1766, 1767, and 1768. Wherever he was, his time was diligently -employed, not only in his severer studies, but in the pursuit of -personal accomplishments and the cultivation of valuable acquaintances, -especially with those who, like himself, were attached to the -investigation of Eastern languages and science. In 1768 he received a -high, but an unprofitable compliment, in being selected to render into -French a Persian Life of Nadir Shah, transmitted to the English -government by the King of Denmark for the purpose of translation. To -this performance, which was printed in 1770, Mr. Jones added a ‘Treatise -on Oriental Poetry,’ in which several of the odes of Hafiz are -translated into verse. This also was written in French; and it has -justly been observed by a French writer in the ‘Biographie Universelle,’ -that the occurrence of some imperfections of style ought not to -interfere with our forming a high estimate of the talents of a man who, -at the age of twenty-two, possessed the varied qualifications and -recondite acquirements displayed in this work. By the end of the same -year, 1770, the author finished his ‘Commentaries on Asiatic Poetry,’ a -Latin treatise, which for its style is commended by the competent -authority of Dr. Parr; and which has also obtained high praise for the -taste and judgment displayed in selecting and translating the passages -by which the text is illustrated. It was not printed till 1774. - -Not the least striking part of Mr. Jones’s character was an ardent love -of liberty, and a high and honourable feeling of independence in his own -person. The former was displayed in his open and fearless advocacy of -opinions calculated to close the road to preferment, such as an entire -disapprobation of the American war, and a strong feeling of the -necessity of reform in Parliament. It should also be noticed that at an -early period he denounced in energetic language the abomination of the -Slave Trade. His personal love of independence was at this time -manifested in his resolution to quit the certain road to ease and -competence which his connexion with the noble family of Spencer laid -before him, to embark in the brilliant but uncertain course of legal -adventure. Ambition was a prominent feature in Jones’s character; and it -was his hope and his earnest wish to distinguish himself in the House of -Commons as well as at the bar. He was admitted of the Middle Temple -November 19, 1770; and his Oriental studies, though not entirely -abandoned, especially at first, were thenceforth much curtailed until -the prospect of being appointed to a judicial office in India furnished -an adequate reason for the resumption of them. But he gave a proof that -his devotion to Oriental had not destroyed his taste for Grecian -learning, by publishing in 1778 a translation of the ‘Orations of -Isæus,’ relative to the laws of succession to property in Athens. The -subject appears to have interested him; for in 1782, when his attention -was again directed to the East, he published translations of two Arabian -poems; one on the Mohammedan law of succession to the property of -intestates, the other on the Mohammedan law of inheritance. About the -same time he translated the seven ancient Arabian poems, called -Moallakat, or ‘Suspended,’ because they had been hung up, in honour of -their merit, in the Temple of Mecca; and to show, perhaps, that his -attention had not been withdrawn from his immediate profession, he wrote -an ‘Essay on the Law of Bailments.’ - -Mr. Jones was called to the bar in 1774. Within two years’ space he -obtained a commissionership of bankrupts; by what influence does not -appear: it could not be from any professional eminence. A letter written -to Lord Althorp so early as October, 1778, intimates a wish to obtain -some judicial appointment in India, not only in consequence of the -interest which he had felt from an early age in every thing connected -with the East, but from a motive which has sent other eminent men to the -same unhealthy climate; a feeling that pecuniary independence was almost -essential to success in political life, and the hope of returning in the -prime of manhood with an honourable competence. - -In 1780 Mr. Jones became a candidate to represent the University of -Oxford. His political opinions were not calculated to win the favour of -that learned body, and though respectably supported, he did not find -encouragement to warrant him in coming to a poll. From this time forward -Mr. Jones’s mind was much occupied by the thought of going to India. His -letters contain frequent allusions to the subject, and express doubt -whether, notwithstanding the personal friendship of Lord North, his own -known views of politics, especially his often and strongly-declared -reprobation of the American war, would not interfere with his obtaining -the desired promotion. The event proved him to be right, for it was not -until after the formation of the Shelburne ministry that he received -information of his appointment to a seat in the Supreme Court of -Judicature at Calcutta, March 3, 1783. For this he was indebted to the -friendship of Lord Ashburton (Mr. Dunning). The state of uncertainty in -which he was so long retained interfered considerably with his attention -to his legal practice, which was rapidly increasing. He was the more -anxious on this subject, because he had been long attached to Miss -Shipley, daughter of the Bishop of St. Asaph; and his union with her was -only deferred until professional success should place him in a fit -station to support a family. His marriage took place in April, and in -the same month he embarked for India. It remains to be noticed, that in -1782 Mr. Jones had written an essay, entitled ‘The Principles of -Government,’ in a dialogue between a farmer and country gentleman, -intended to express in a cheap and simple form his own views on -constitutional questions. This was first printed by the Society for -Constitutional Information, of which Mr. Jones was a member: it was -reprinted by his brother-in-law, the Dean of St. Asaph, who was in -consequence indicted for libel. In the prosecution which ensued, Mr. -Erskine made one of his first and most remarkable appearances, and the -series of speeches which he delivered in this case prepared the way for -the Libel Bill of 1792. - -Sir William Jones arrived in Calcutta in September, and entered on his -judicial functions in December, 1783. One of his first employments was -the organization of a scientific association, under the title of the -Asiatic Society. The Governor-general, Warren Hastings, was requested to -become president; and on his declining to accept, as an honorary -distinction, an office the real duties of which he was unable to fulfil, -Sir William Jones was fitly placed at the head of that institution, -which, but for him, probably would not have existed. The transactions of -that society, under the name of ‘Asiatic Researches,’ were published -under his superintendence, and owe a large portion of their interest to -the labours of his pen. Another work, the ‘Asiatic Miscellany,’ was also -indebted to him for several valuable contributions. But the perfect -acquisition of the Sanscrit language was the chief employment of that -time which could be spared from his judicial labours; a task indeed -subsidiary to those labours, and performed with the benevolent design of -insuring to the Indian subjects of Britain a pure administration of -justice, by rendering the knowledge of their laws accessible to British -magistrates. Bound to adjudicate between the natives according to their -own native laws, and ignorant for the most part of the very language in -which those laws were written, the judges were obliged to have recourse -to native lawyers, called Pundits, who were regularly attached to the -courts as a species of assessors. Of these men Sir W. Jones, no harsh or -hasty reprover, says, “It would be unjust and absurd to pass -indiscriminate censure on so considerable a body of men; but my -experience justifies me in declaring that I could not, with an easy -conscience, concur in a decision merely on the written opinion of native -lawyers, in a case in which they could have the remotest interest in -misleading the court.” The obvious remedy was to obtain a trustworthy -digest of the Hindoo laws, which should then be accurately translated -into English. The scheme indeed had been already undertaken in part at -the desire of Mr. Hastings, by Mr. Halhed: but as the code of Hindoo -law, compiled by that gentleman, was merely a translation from a -defective Persian version of the original Sanscrit, it did not possess -the requisite correctness, or authority. It appears from Sir W. Jones’s -correspondence, that at an early period he had contemplated supplying -this great desideratum by his own labour and expense. But prudence did -not warrant such an uncalled-for act of liberality; and he addressed a -letter to Lord Cornwallis, dated March 19, 1788, in which the necessity -for such a work, and the means by which it might be executed, are fully -laid down. It was to be compiled by the Mohammedan or Hindoo lawyers, -working under the superintendence of a director and translator, who -should be qualified to check and correct intentional or careless error: -and a chief difficulty, in Sir W. Jones’s own words, was “to find a -person who, with a competent knowledge of the Sanscrit and Arabic, has a -general acquaintance with the principles of jurisprudence, and a -sufficient share even of legislative spirit, to arrange the plan of a -digest, superintend the compilation of it, and render the whole, as it -proceeds, into perspicuous English. Now (he continues), though I am -truly conscious of possessing a very moderate portion of those talents -which I should require in the superintendent of such a work, yet I may -without vanity profess myself equal to the labour of it;—and I cannot -but know that the qualifications required, even in the low degree in -which I possess them, are not often found united in the same person.” -The proposal of course was eagerly accepted. That he should have -acquired the necessary acquaintance, first with the language, then with -the law, in the space of four years and a half, is sufficiently -remarkable; and the method in which he proposed to execute it will -startle those who know the enervating influence of a tropical climate. -“I should be able,” he says, “if my health continued firm, to translate -every morning, before any other business is begun, as much as the -lawyers could compile, and the writers copy, in the preceding day.” The -quantity of work which Jones did in India was indeed astonishing; but he -was a severe economist of time, and even his hours of recreation were -rendered serviceable to the increase of knowledge. Botany especially was -a favourite pursuit of his more leisure hours; and his correspondence -with Banks and others shows at once the zeal with which, when duty would -permit, he followed that fascinating science, and the readiness with -which he communicated his own discoveries to his friends, and laboured -to answer their inquiries. Nor did he neglect poetry. Several odes to -Hindoo deities, originally published in the Asiatic Miscellany, will be -found in his works; and these, with an elegant and cultivated fancy, -display considerable power of composition. He projected a more serious -undertaking,—an epic poem, of which a Phœnician colonist of Britain was -to be the hero, and the Hindoo mythology was to furnish the machinery: -the whole being an allegorical panegyric on the British constitution, -and furnishing the character of a perfect King of England. But the -extravagant fictions of the Hindoo religion have never proved -permanently popular in an English dress; and there is no reason to -regret that this scheme never advanced beyond its first sketch. The -author made a more acceptable present to European literature in -translating ‘Sacontala, or the Fatal Ring,’ a very ancient Indian drama, -which contains a lively, simple, and pleasing picture of the manners of -Hindustan at a remote age. It is ascribed to the first century before -Christ. - -For a catalogue of Sir W. Jones’s works, we must refer to the edition -published by Lady Jones. We have only noticed a few of the most -important: to which are to be added, the series of anniversary -discourses addressed to the Asiatic Society, and the translation of the -‘Ordinances of Menu.’ The former, eleven in number, treat of the -History, Antiquities, Arts, &c. of Asia, and more especially of the -origin and connection of the chief nations among whom that quarter of -the globe is divided. His last work was the translation of the -‘Ordinances of Menu,’ “a system of duties” (we quote from the -translator’s preface) “religious and civil, and of law in all its -branches, which the Hindoos firmly believe to have been promulged in the -beginning of time by Menu, son or grandson of Brahma, or, in plain -language, the first of created beings, and not the oldest only, but the -holiest of legislators: a system so comprehensive, and so minutely -exact, that it may be considered as the Institutes of Hindoo law, -preparatory to the copious Digest which has lately been compiled by -Pundits of eminent learning.” This was his last work. It was begun in -1786, though not completed and published till 1794, a short time before -the author’s death. - -The private history of Sir William Jones, during the period of his life -which was spent in India, affords very little scope for narration. -During his first summer he nearly fell a victim to the climate; but an -absence of seven months spent in travelling recruited his strength, and -after his return to Calcutta, in February, 1785, he seemed to be -acclimated, and suffered little from serious illness till his last fatal -attack. His domestic habits are thus described by his biographer, Lord -Teignmouth. “The largest portion of each year was devoted to his -professional duties and studies; and all the time that could be saved -from these important avocations was dedicated to the cultivation of -science and literature. While business required the daily attendance of -Sir W. Jones in Calcutta, his usual residence was on the banks of the -Ganges, at the distance of five miles from the court; to this spot he -returned every evening after sunset, and in the morning rose so early as -to reach his apartments in town by walking, at the first appearance of -the dawn. The intervening period of each morning, until the opening of -the court, was regularly allotted and applied to distinct studies. He -passed the months of vacation at his retirement at Crishnagur (a villa -about fifty miles from Calcutta) in his usual pursuits.” Those portions -of his correspondence which are preserved in Lord Teignmouth’s life may -be read with pleasure; and indeed constitute the chief interest of the -latter part of the work. Busy, tranquil, and cheerful, his life afforded -little of material for the biographer: and but for the impaired health -of his wife, his residence in India would have been one of almost -unmixed happiness. Lady Jones was compelled to embark for England in -December, 1793. The mere desire of increasing a fortune, which he -professed to find already large enough for his moderate wishes, would -not have tempted Sir William Jones to remain alone in Bengal: but he -felt an earnest desire to complete the great work on Hindoo Law, which -he had originated; and no apprehension was felt on his account, as his -constitution seemed to have become inured to the climate. But in the -following spring he was attacked by inflammation of the liver, which ran -its fatal course with unusual rapidity. He died, April 27, 1794. The -‘Digest,’ to which he had thus sacrificed his life, was completed by Mr. -Colebrooke, and published in 1800. - -Blameless in his domestic relations, consistent and enlightened in his -political views, an honest and indefatigable magistrate, few men have -gone through life with more credit, or as far as it is possible to form -an opinion, with more happiness than Sir William Jones. As a scholar, -the circumstances of his life being considered, his acquirements were -extraordinary; and in this light the most remarkable feature of his -character was his singular facility in learning languages. A list, -preserved in his own handwriting, thus classes those with which he was -in any degree acquainted; they are twenty-eight in number. “Eight -languages studied critically—English, Latin, French, Italian, Greek, -Arabic, Persian, Sanscrit. Eight studied less perfectly, but all -intelligible with a dictionary—Spanish, Portuguese, German, Runic, -Hebrew, Bengali, Hindi, Turkish. Twelve studied less perfectly, but all -attainable: Thibetian, Pâli, Pahlair, Deri, Russian, Syriac, Ethiopic, -Coptic, Welsh, Swedish, Dutch, Chinese.” Besides law, which as his -profession, was his chief business through life, his writings embrace a -vast variety of subjects in the several classes of philology, botany, -zoology, poetry original and translated, political discussion, -geography, mythology, astronomy as applied to chronology, and history, -especially that of the Asiatic nations. And the praise of ‘adorning -everything that he touched’ is singularly due to him, for the elegance -of his style, and his power of throwing interest over the dry and -uncertain inquiries in which he took such delight. As far as England is -concerned, he was our great pioneer in Eastern learning; and if later -scholars, profiting in part by his labours, have found reason to dissent -from his opinions, it is to be recollected, as far as our estimate of -his powers is concerned, that most men, who have obtained eminence in -this recondite department of literature, have done so by the devotion of -their undivided powers: what Jones accomplished was performed, on the -contrary, in the intervals of those official labours, to which the best -hours and energies of his life were, as his first point of duty, -devoted. What he had meditated, if life and leisure had been granted, -may be inferred from the list of ‘Desiderata,’ which his biographer -(vol. ii., p. 301, it is not said on what authority) regards as -exhibiting his own literary projects. The following emphatic panegyric, -conceived in the warm language which affection naturally indulges in on -such an occasion, has been pronounced on him by his friend and -school-fellow, Dr. Bennet, Bishop of Cloyne. “I knew him from the early -age of eight or nine, and he was always an uncommon boy. Great -abilities, great particularity of thinking, fondness for writing verses -and plays of various kinds, and a degree of integrity and manly courage, -of which I remember many instances, distinguished him even at that -period. I loved and revered him, and though one or two years older than -he was, was always instructed by him from my earliest age. In a word, I -can only say of this wonderful man, that he had more virtues and less -faults than I ever yet saw in any human being; and that the goodness of -his head, admirable as it was, was exceeded by that of his heart. I have -never ceased to admire him from the moment I first saw him, and my -esteem for his great qualities and regret for his loss will only end -with my life.” - -Due honours were paid after death to this great man. The Court of -Directors placed a statue of him in St. Paul’s cathedral; and Lady Jones -erected a monument to him in the ante-chapel of University College, -Oxford. In conformity with his own expressed opinion, that “the best -monument that can be erected to a man of literary talent, is a good -edition of his works,” she caused them to be collected and printed in -1799, in six quarto volumes. They have been reprinted in octavo. A life -of Sir William Jones was afterwards written by Lord Teignmouth, his -intimate friend in India, at Lady Jones’s request. There is a memoir in -the Annual Obituary for 1817, which is chiefly devoted to set forth the -political opinions of Sir William Jones, in a stronger light than seemed -fitting to his noble biographer. - -[Illustration: [Statue of Sir W. Jones, by John Bacon, R.A., in St. -Paul’s.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by Rob^t. Hart._ - - ROUSSEAU. - - _From an original Picture by Latour, in the possession of M. Bordes, - at Paris._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - ROUSSEAU. - - -Jean Jacques Rousseau, the son of a watch-maker at Geneva, was born June -28, 1712. His mother dying while he was yet a child, his father took a -second wife; and he himself was placed at school at the village of -Bossey, near Geneva, where he learnt but little, and was afterwards -apprenticed to an engraver, a coarse, brutal man, whose treatment of him -tended to sour a temper already wilful and morose. He became addicted to -idleness, pilfering, and lying. The fear of punishment for some act of -especial misconduct induced him to run away from his master, and he -wandered into Savoy, where finding himself totally destitute, he applied -to the Bishop of Annecy, on the plea of wishing to be instructed in the -Catholic religion. The bishop recommended him to Madame de Warens, a -Swiss lady, herself a convert to Catholicism, who lived at Annecy. She -received the boy kindly, relieved his present wants, and afforded him -the means of proceeding to Turin, where he entered the College of -Catechumens, and after going through a preparatory course of -instruction, abjured the reformed religion, and became a Catholic. But -as he refused to enter into holy orders, on leaving the college he was -again thrown upon his own resources. He became a domestic servant; but -his want of self-control and discretion rendered him very unfit for his -employment: and in 1730 he returned to the house of Madame de Warens, -who received him kindly, and afforded him support and protection during -the next ten years. Of his foolish, profligate, and ungrateful course of -life during this period, we have neither space nor wish to give an -account: after many absences, and many returns, Rousseau quitted her -finally in 1740, receiving letters of introduction to some persons at -Lyons. Tutor, musician, and private secretary to the French Ambassador, -his restless temper and versatile mind led him successively from Lyons -to Paris and Venice. From the last-named city he returned to Paris in -1745; and alighting at an obscure inn, met with a servant girl, Therese -Levasseur, with whom he formed a connexion which lasted all the rest of -his life. He tried to compose music for the stage, but did not succeed -in his attempts. He was next employed as a clerk in the office of M. -Dupin, Fermier-général, but did not remain long in his new employment. -In 1748 he became acquainted with Madame d’Epinay, who proved afterwards -one of his steadiest and kindest friends. He frequented the society also -of D’Alembert, Diderot, and Condillac, and he was engaged to write the -articles on music for the Encyclopédie, which he did very ill, as he -himself acknowledges. One day he saw by chance in an advertisement, that -a prize had been offered by the Academy of Dijon, for the best essay on -the question, Whether the progress of sciences and of the arts has been -favourable to the morals of mankind? He at once resolved to write for -the prize, and apparently without having ever before considered the -subject, made up his mind to take the negative side of the question. -Diderot encouraged, but did not, as has been commonly said, originate -this determination. He supported his position, that science, literature, -and art, have been fatal to the virtues and happiness of mankind, with a -glowing eloquence; and the Academy awarded him the prize. His success -confirmed him in a turn for paradox and exaggeration; and he seems to -have adopted, as a general principle, the doctrine that the extreme -opposite to wrong must necessarily be right. At the same time his -reputation as an author became established, and in a few years after his -first essay, he was acknowledged to be one of the most, or rather the -most, eloquent writer among his contemporaries. Meantime he persevered -in his attempts at musical composition, and wrote ‘Le Devin du Village,’ -an opera which was played before the king at the Court Theatre of -Fontainebleau, and met with the royal approbation. Rousseau was in one -of the boxes with a gentleman belonging to the court. The king having -expressed a desire to see the composer of the opera, Rousseau became -alarmed or ashamed at the slovenly condition of his dress, and instead -of repairing to the royal presence, he ran out of the house and hastened -back to Paris. Naturally shy, he possessed neither ease of manners nor -facility of address, and he could never throughout life subdue his own -acute feeling of these deficiencies; a feeling which of course tended to -perpetuate and increase his awkwardness. This was the secret spring of -most of his eccentricities. In order to hide his imperfections, he -resorted to the plan of affecting to disregard manners altogether; he -put on the appearance of a cynic, of a misanthropist, which he was not -in reality. - -It was about the year 1750, soon after writing his dissertation for the -Dijon prize, that he made a total change in his habits and mode of -living. He gave up all refinement about his dress, laid aside his sword, -bag, and silk stockings, sold his watch, but kept his linen apparel, -which, however, was stolen from him shortly after. He spent one half of -the day in copying music as a means of subsistence, and he found -constant employment. Several persons who knew his circumstances offered -him three or four times the value of his labour, but he would never -accept more than the usual remuneration. In 1753 he wrote his ‘Lettre -sur la Musique Française,’ in which he asserted that the French had no -music deserving the name, that they could not possibly have any, and -then added, that “were they ever to have any it would be all the worse -for them;” a sentence unintelligible to his readers, and probably to -himself also. When years after this he heard Gluck, with whose music he -was delighted, he observed to some one, “this man is setting French -words to very good music, as if on purpose to contradict me;” and upon -this reflection he broke off acquaintance with Gluck. However, his -letter on French music sorely wounded the national vanity, and he was -exposed to a sort of petty persecution in consequence of it. Rousseau -wrote next his letter to D’Alembert, ‘sur les Spectacles,’ which led to -a controversy between them. He wrote also the ‘Discours sur l’Origine de -l’Inégalité parmi les Hommes,’ for another prize of the Academy of -Dijon, with a dedication to the magistrates of his native town Geneva, -which was much admired as a specimen of dignified eloquence. The -discourse itself is composed in his accustomed paradoxical vein. He -maintains that men are not intended to be sociable beings; that they -have a natural bias for a solitary existence; that the condition of the -savage, untutored and free in his native wilds, is the natural and -proper state of man; and that every system of society is an infraction -of man’s rights, and a subversion of the order of nature. He assumes -that men are all born equal by nature, disregarding the daily evidence -of the contrary, in respect both of their physical and moral powers. His -idea of the equal rights of men, which he afterwards developed in the -‘Contrat Social,’ instead of being founded upon enlightened reason, -religion, and morality, rests upon the base of his favourite theory, of -man’s equality in a state of nature; while we know from experience, that -those savage tribes who approach nearest to this imaginary natural -state, acknowledge no other right than that of the strongest. Most of -Rousseau’s paradoxes proceed from the false position assumed in his -first dissertation, that a savage, unsocial state, is the very -perfection of man’s existence. - -After the publication of this discourse Rousseau repaired to Geneva, -where he was well received by his countrymen. He there abjured -Catholicism and resumed the profession of the reformed religion. But he -soon returned to Paris; and, at the invitation of Madame d’Epinay, in -1756, took up his residence at the house called L’Hermitage, in the -valley of Montmorency, near Paris. It was in this pleasant retirement -that he began his celebrated novel ‘Julie, ou la Nouvelle Heloïse,’ -which he finished in 1759. As a work of imagination and invention it is -little worth; but as a model of impassioned eloquence, it will be -admired as long as the French language shall continue to be spoken or -read by men. Rousseau, while he wrote it, was himself under the -influence of a passion which he had conceived for the beautiful Madame -d’Houdetot, Madame d’Epinay’s sister-in-law, a love totally hopeless and -ridiculous on his part, but which no doubt inspired him while engaged in -the composition of this work. When it appeared, many people, especially -women, thought that Julie was a real living object of his attachment, -and the supposition being favourable to the popularity of the book and -its author, Rousseau was not very anxious to undeceive them. He esteemed -the fourth portion of the work the best. “The first two parts are but -the desultory verbiage of feverish excitement, and yet I could never -alter them after I had once written them. The fifth and the sixth are -comparatively weak, but I let them remain out of consideration of their -moral utility.... My imagination cannot embellish the objects I see; it -must create its own objects. If I am to paint the spring, I must do it -in winter; if to describe a landscape, I must be shut up within walls: -were I confined in the Bastille, I should then write best on the charms -of liberty. I never could write as a matter of business, I can only do -it through impulse or passion.” (Rousseau’s ‘Notes to the Nouvelle -Heloïse,’ in Mercier and Le Tourneur’s edition.) He had great difficulty -in constructing his periods; he turned them and he altered them -repeatedly in his head, often while in bed, before he attempted to put -them on paper. - -La Nouvelle Heloïse has been censured for the dangerous example it -affords, and for the interest it throws upon seduction and frailty. The -character of St. Preux is decidedly faulty, and even base, in spite of -all his sophistry, which however has probably led other young men placed -in a similar situation to forget the relative duties of society, and the -obligations of hospitality. Here we perceive also the influence of -Rousseau’s favourite paradox; for in a state of nature, such as Rousseau -has fancied it, the intimacy of St. Preux and Julie would have been -unobjectionable. But then the relative position of the teacher, his -pupil, and her parents, would not have been the same as in the novel, -for they would have been all savages together. Rousseau has however -redeemed the character of Julie after she becomes a wife, and he has -thus paid a sincere homage to the sacredness of the marriage bond, and -to the importance of conjugal duties, the basis of all society. Rousseau -was not a contemner of virtue; he felt its beauty, though his practice -was by no means modelled on its dictates. He tells us himself the -workings of his mind on this subject. “After much observation I thought -I perceived nothing but error and folly among philosophers, oppression -and misery in the social order. In the delusion of my foolish pride I -fancied myself born to dissipate all prejudices; but then I thought -that, in order to have my advice listened to, my conduct ought to -correspond to my principles. I had been till then good-hearted, I now -became virtuous. Whoever has the courage of showing himself such as he -is, must, if he be not totally depraved, become such as he ought to be.” -It was probably in compliance with his growing sense of moral duty, that -he married at last the woman he had so long been living with, when she -was forty-seven years of age, and, as he himself acknowledges, was not -possessed of any attractions of either mind or person, having nothing to -recommend her except her attention to him, especially in his frequent -fits of illness or despondency. He seems also to have bitterly repented, -in the latter years of his life, having in his youth sent his -illegitimate children to the foundling hospital. - -Rousseau’s next work was the ‘Emile, ou de l’Education,’ which appeared -in 1762. It contains many excellent precepts, especially in the first -part, although, as a whole system, it may be considered as -impracticable, at least in any state of society which has yet been -formed upon the earth. It was remarked at the time, that the author, -after having brought up his Emile to manhood, ought to create a new -world for him to live in. Rousseau himself seems to have been of this -opinion, for when a Mr. Angar introduced to him his son, whom he said he -had educated according to the principles of the Emile, Rousseau quickly -replied, “So much the worse for you, and for your son too.” The ‘Emile,’ -however, introduced some beneficial changes in the early treatment of -children. It discredited the absurd practice of swaddling infants like -mummies, to the manifest injury of their tender limbs; it induced -mothers of the higher ranks to suckle their children, instead of -committing them to the care of nurses; it corrected several wrong -principles of early education, such as that of ruling children through -fear, of considering them as slaves having no will of their own, and of -terrifying them by absurd stories and fables; it inculcated freedom of -body and mind, the necessity of amusement and relaxation, of appealing -to the feelings of children, of treating them like rational beings. -Rousseau may be truly called the benefactor of children. As he -proceeded, however, in his plan for boys grown older, Rousseau became -involved in some of his favourite speculations about religion and -metaphysics, which gave offence to both Catholics and Protestants. The -Parliament of Paris condemned the work. The Archbishop issued a -_mandement_ against it. The States-General of Holland likewise -proscribed the book. At Geneva, it was publicly burnt by the hand of the -executioner. The publication of the ‘Contrat Social, ou Principes du -Droit Politique,’ which appeared soon after, added to the storm against -the author. It contains much speculative truth, combined with much -ignorance of men’s nature and passions. The idea of a perfect and -universal model of government, without regard to local circumstances, -seems chimerical. It is a curious fact that Rousseau, after reading -Bernardin de St. Pierre’s political works, observed that they contained -projects which were impracticable on account of a fundamental error, out -of which the author was unable to extricate himself, namely, “that of -supposing that men in general and in all cases will conduct themselves -according to the dictates of reason and virtue, rather than according to -their passions.” Rousseau, in uttering these words, passed judgment on -his own ‘Contrat Social,’ which he afterwards also acknowledged having -written, “not for men but for angels.” In fact, he never meant it for -anything but a speculative treatise, and in his ‘Considérations sur le -Gouvernement de la Pologne,’ published some years after, having to write -for a practical purpose, he considerably modified his former principles. - -In consequence of the excitement produced by these works, Rousseau left -Paris for Switzerland in 1762. He went first to Yverdun, but the Senate -of Berne enjoined him to leave its territory. He then repaired to -Neuchatel, which was subject to the King of Prussia, and of which the -old Marshal Keith was Governor. Keith received him very kindly, and -Rousseau took up his residence at the village of Motiers, in the Val de -Travers. There he wrote a Reply to the Archbishop of Paris, and a Letter -to the Magistrates of Geneva, in which he renounced his rights of -citizenship. He next wrote the “Lettres de la Montagne,” which is a -series of severe strictures on the political government and church of -Geneva. It is curious as a sketch of the old institutions of that -republic, written by one of its own citizens. This work increased the -existing irritation against its author, a feeling which spread even to -the villagers of Motiers, who are said to have annoyed their eccentric -visiter in various ways. Rousseau, however, is suspected of having -greatly magnified, if not invented, some of the acts of aggression of -which he complains. He spoke of them as amounting to a regular -conspiracy against his person, and removed his abode to the little -island of St. Pierre, on the lake of Bienne. Thence, after a time, as if -to court notice, he wrote a letter to the Senate of Berne, requesting -permission to remain on the island. For answer he received an order to -quit the territory of the canton in twenty-four hours. At the invitation -of his former friend Marshal Keith, he meditated a visit to Berlin. But -the advice of some friends in Paris induced him to change his mind, and -accept the friendly offer of our historian Hume, who was anxious to -procure for him a safe asylum in England, where he might quietly attend -to his studies and live in peace. Rousseau arrived in London in January, -1766; and in the following March, went to his intended home at Wootton -in Derbyshire. Knowing the man he had to deal with, Hume, with the real -kindness of character which he possessed, had sought by every means to -avoid shocking the irritable delicacy or vanity of his protégé: and the -residence which he procured for him in the house of a man of fortune, -Mr. Davenport, is said to have been unexceptionable. But before long he -quarrelled with both Hume and Davenport, left Wootton abruptly, and -returned to France. The ostensible cause of all this was the publication -of a letter in the newspapers, bearing the King of Prussia’s name, and -reflecting severely upon Rousseau’s weaknesses and eccentricities. -Rousseau accused Hume, or some of his friends, of having written it. -Hume protested in vain that he knew nothing of the matter. At last -Horace Walpole acknowledged himself to be the author. Rousseau, however, -would not be pacified, and attributed to Hume the blackest designs -against him. The correspondence that passed between the parties on the -subject is curious, and is given in the complete editions of our -author’s works. He afterwards seemed to say that during his residence in -England he had been subject to fits of insanity. - -Returning to France, Rousseau led an unsettled life, with frequent -changes in his place of residence, until June, 1770. He then returned to -Paris, and took lodgings in the Rue Plâtrière, which has since been -called Rue J. J. Rousseau. It is to be noticed that in the interim he -had published his ‘Dictionnaire de Musique,’ a work which has the -reputation of being both imperfect and obscure. Indeed, notwithstanding -his passionate fondness for the art, he never attained to a profound -acquaintance with it. Passing through Lyons on his way to Paris, he -subscribed his mite towards the erection of a statue to Voltaire: thus -avenging himself for the coarse abuse which the latter had on many -occasions poured upon him, and which Rousseau never returned. Voltaire -is said to have been exceedingly annoyed at this. After his return to -the capital, he was overwhelmed with visits and invitations to dinner. -Though there was a prosecution pending against him for his ‘Emile,’ he -was left undisturbed: but at the same time he was cautioned not to -exhibit himself too conspicuously in public; advice which he utterly -disregarded. He soon relapsed into his former misanthropy, and became -subject to convulsive fits, which fearfully disfigured his features, and -gave a haggard expression to his looks. He fancied that every body was -conspiring against him, and he also complained of inward moral -sufferings which tortured his mind. - -Among other imaginary grievances he thought that the French ministers -had imposed restrictions upon him with respect to his writings. One of -his friends applied to the Duc de Choiseuil to ascertain the fact. The -Duke’s answer, dated 1772, is as follows: “If ever I have engaged M. -Rousseau not to publish anything without my previous knowledge, of which -fact however I have no remembrance, it could only have been in order to -save him from fresh squabbles and annoyance. However, now that I have no -longer the power of protecting him (the Duke had resigned his -premiership), I fully acquit him of any engagement of the kind.” - -As Rousseau was walking one day in the street Menil Montant, a large dog -that was running before the carriage of the President Saint Fargeau -tripped his legs, and he fell. The President alighted, expressed his -regret at the accident, and begged the sufferer to accept of his -carriage to return home. Rousseau, however, refused. The next day the -President sent to inquire after his health. “Tell your master to chain -up his dog,” was the only reply. - -Being old and infirm, the labour of copying music had become too irksome -for him: still he would accept of no assistance from his friends, though -all his income consisted of an annuity of 1450 livres. His wife was also -in bad health, and provisions were very dear at the time; he therefore -began to look out for a country residence. A friend mentioned this to -the Marquis de Girardin, who immediately offered Rousseau a permanent -habitation at his château of Ermenonville, near Chantilly. Rousseau -accepted the proposal, and chose for his residence a detached cottage -near the family mansion. He removed to it in May, 1778, and appeared -more calm and contented in his new abode. He was fond of botany, and -used to take long walks in quest of flowers with one of M. de Girardin’s -sons. On July 1st he went out as usual, but returned home fatigued and -ill: he however slept quietly that night. Next morning he rose early -according to his custom, and went out to see the sun rise; he came back -to breakfast, after which he went to his room to dress, as he intended -to pay a visit to Madame de Girardin. His wife happening to enter his -room shortly after, found him sitting with his elbow leaning on a chest -of drawers. He said he was very ill, and complained of cold shivering -and of violent pain in his head. Madame de Girardin being informed of -this, came at once to visit him; but Rousseau, thanking her for all her -kindness to him, begged of her to return home and leave him alone for -the present. He then having requested his wife to sit by him, begged her -forgiveness for any pain or displeasure of which he might have been the -cause, and said that his end was approaching, that he died in peace, as -he never had intended or wished evil to any human being, and that he -hoped in the mercy of God. He begged that M. de Girardin would allow him -to be buried in his park. He gave directions to his wife about his -papers, and requested her particularly to have his body opened, that the -cause of his death might be ascertained. He then asked her to open the -window, “that he might once more behold the beautiful green of the -fields.” “How pure and beautiful is the sky!” he then observed, “there -is not a cloud. I trust the Almighty will receive me there above.” In so -saying, he fell on his face to the floor, and on raising him, life was -found to be extinct. On opening the body, a considerable quantity of -serum was found between the brain and its integuments. His sudden death -was attributed by many persons to suicide: but there is no direct -evidence of which we know to prove this. On the other side there is the -positive assertion of the physician who examined the body, that his -death was natural. Rousseau was buried in an island shaded by poplars, -on the little lake of the park of Ermenonville. A plain marble monument -was raised to his memory. - -The first part of his ‘Confessions,’ which he had begun to write while -at Wootton, was published in 1781. He had himself fixed the year 1800 -for the publication of the second part, judging that, by that time, the -persons mentioned in the work would be dead; but, through an abuse of -confidence on the part of the depositories of the MSS., it was published -in 1788. His autobiography does not include the latter years of his -life. - -Rousseau was temperate and frugal in his habits, disinterested and -warm-hearted, and impressed with strong feelings against oppression and -injustice. He was not envious of the fame or success of his brother -authors. He never sneered at religion like Voltaire and others of his -contemporaries, although in his speculative works he expressed his -doubts concerning revelation, and brought forth the arguments that -occurred to him on that side of the question: but he had none of the -fanaticism of incredulity against Christianity. Of the morality of the -Gospel he was a sincere admirer, and a most eloquent eulogist. “I -acknowledge,” he says in his ‘Emile,’ “that the majesty of the -Scriptures astonishes me, that the holiness of the Gospel speaks to my -heart. Look at the books of the philosophers; with all their pomp, how -little they appear by the side of that one book! Can a book so sublime, -and yet so simple, be the work of man? How prejudiced, how blind that -man must be, who can compare the son of Sophroniscus (Socrates) to the -son of Mary!” With such sentiments Rousseau could not long agree with -Helvetius, Diderot, D’Holbach, and their coterie. They, on their side, -ridiculed and abused him, because he was too sincere and independent for -them. “I have spent my life,” says Rousseau, “among infidels, without -being seduced by them; I loved and esteemed several of them, and yet -their doctrine was to me insufferable. I told them repeatedly that I -could not believe them.... I leave to my friends the task of -constructing the world by chance. I find in the very architects of this -new-fangled world, and in spite of themselves and their arguments, fresh -proofs of the existence of a God, a Creator of all.” A very good -collection of the moral maxims scattered about Rousseau’s works was -published under the title of ‘Esprit, Maximes et Principes de J. J. -Rousseau,’ 8vo., Neuchatel, 1774. - -Rousseau set to music about 100 French romances, which he called -‘Consolations des Misères de ma Vie.’ Several editions of all his works -have been made at different times: that by Mercier and Le Tourneur, 38 -vols. 4to., has been long considered as one of the best. The edition of -Lefevre, 22 vols. 8vo., 1819–20, and that of Lequien, 21 vols. 8vo., -1821–2, are now preferred to all former ones. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. Holl._ - - JOHN HARRISON. - - _From an Engraving by Tassaerts published in 1708 after a Painting by - King._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - HARRISON. - - -John Harrison was born in May, 1693, at Foulby, in Yorkshire. His -father, who was a joiner, trained him from an early age to the same -business; but he soon began to study machinery. He turned his attention -to the mechanism of clocks; and, to obviate the irregularities produced -in their rate of going by variations of temperature, he invented the -method of compensation, employed in what is now called the _gridiron_ -pendulum, before the year 1720. This contrivance consisted in -constructing a pendulum with bars of different metals, having different -rates of expansion so as to correct each other: it is described in all -popular treatises on physics. By this means it is stated that he had, -before the year above-mentioned, constructed two clocks which agreed -with each other within a second a month, and one of which did not vary, -on the whole, more than a minute in ten years.[10] - -Footnote 10: - - Folke’s Address to the Royal Society, Nov. 30, 1749. - -This success induced him to turn his attention to watches, or rather to -time-keepers for naval purposes. It would be impossible without the help -of plates to render intelligible the rise and progress of his methods, -for which we must refer the reader to treatises of Horology. His first -instrument was tried upon the Humber, in rough weather, and succeeded so -well that he was recommended to carry it to London, for the inspection -of the Commissioners of Longitude. - -The question of the discovery of the longitude had been considered of -national importance since the year 1714, when an Act was passed offering -10,000_l._, 15,000_l._, and 20,000_l._ for any method of discovering the -longitude within 60, 40, or 30 miles respectively. In 1735 Harrison -arrived in London with his time-piece, and showed it to several members -of the Royal Society. He obtained a certificate of its goodness, signed -by Halley, Smith, Bradley, Machin, and Graham, in consequence of which -he was allowed to proceed with it to Lisbon, in a king’s ship, in 1736. -The watch was found to correct the ship’s reckoning a degree and a half; -and the commissioners thereupon gave Harrison 500_l._, to enable him to -proceed. He finished a second time-piece in 1739, and a third in 1758, -each nearer to perfection than the former, and both abounding in -ingenious contrivances to overcome the effects of temperature, and of -the motion of a vessel at sea. In 1741 he obtained another certificate, -signed by almost every name of eminence in English science of the time. -In 1749 the gold medal of the Royal Society was awarded to him. In 1761, -having then a fourth time-piece in hand, but being convinced that the -third was sufficiently correct to come within the limits of the act of -parliament, he applied to the Commissioners for a trial of it. -Accordingly, in 1761 (Nov. 18), his son, William Harrison, was sent in a -king’s ship to Jamaica with the watch, and returned to Portsmouth, March -26, 1762. On arrival at Port Royal, Jan. 19, 1762, the watch was found -wrong only 5⅒ seconds; and at its return, only 1 minute 54½ seconds. -This was sufficient to determine the longitude within 18 miles; and -Harrison accordingly claimed 20,000_l._, in a petition to the House of -Commons, presented early in 1763. The Commissioners had awarded him -1,500_l._, and promised 1,000_l._ more after another voyage. Owing to -some doubt as to the method of equal altitudes employed in finding the -time at Port Royal, they do not appear to have been of opinion that the -first voyage was conclusive. In 1763 an act passed, by which, firstly, -no other person could become entitled to the reward until Harrison’s -claim was settled; and, secondly, 5,000_l._ was awarded to him on his -discovery of the structure of the instrument. But the Commissioners not -agreeing about the payment, another voyage was resolved on, and Mr. -William Harrison sailed again for Barbadoes, with Dr. Maskelyne, -afterwards the Astronomer Royal. The result was yet more satisfactory -than before; and in 1765 a new act was passed, awarding to Harrison the -whole sum of 20,000_l._: the first moiety upon the discovery of his -construction; the second, so soon as it should be found that others -could be made like it. In this act it is stated that the watch did not -lose more than ten miles of the longitude. But Harrison had by this time -been rendered unduly suspicious of the intentions of the Commissioners. -He imagined that Dr. Maskelyne had treated him unfairly, and was -desirous of having no method of finding the longitude except that of -lunar observations. An account of the subsequent proceedings, of which -the following is an abstract, was printed in self-defence by the -Commissioners:— - -May 28, 1765, Mr. Harrison’s son informs the Commissioners that he is -ready to deliver the drawings and explanations, and expects a -certificate that he is entitled to receive the first moiety of the -reward. The Commissioners are unanimously of opinion that verbal -explanations and experiments, in the presence of such persons as they -may appoint, will be necessary. May 30, Mr. Harrison attends in person, -and consents to the additional explanation; and certain men of science, -as well as watchmakers, are instructed to receive them. June 13, Mr. -Harrison, being present, is informed that the Board is ready to fix a -time to proceed, on which he denies ever having given his assent, and -refers to a letter which he had delivered at the last meeting. The -letter had not, says the Commissioners’ Minute, been delivered, but had -been left upon the table, unnoticed by any one. It was to the effect -that Harrison was willing to give further verbal explanation, but -requires to know to whom it must be given; “for,” says he, “I will never -attempt to explain it to the satisfaction of the Commissioners, and who -they may appoint; nor will I ever come under the directions of men of -theory.” He further refuses to make any experimental exhibition, and -ends by complaining of the usage he has received. He was then told by -the Board that he would only be asked for experiments in cases where -there were operations which could not be fully explained by words, such, -for instance, as the tempering of the springs; on which he left the -Board abruptly, declaring, “that he never would consent to it, as long -as he had a drop of English blood in his body.” The Commissioners -thereupon declined further dealing with him. - -The reason of the above absurd conduct we suspect to have been, that -Harrison desired, in addition to the large reward claimed by him, to -have a monopoly of the manufacture of his watches, such as would have -necessarily been created for his benefit, had he been allowed to keep -his actual methods of working a secret. For he offered, _upon receiving -the reward_, “to employ a sufficient number of hands, so as with all -possible speed to furnish his Majesty’s navy, &c. &c., not doubting but -the public will consider the charge of the outset of the undertaking.” -We quote here from the Biographia Britannica, in the last volume of -which, published in 1766, is an account of him, from materials avowedly -furnished by himself, and plainly written by a partisan. It is the only -instance we can find in which a memoir of a living person has been -inserted in that work. - -The next circumstance we find, (for there is no connected history of -this discussion, which exists only in a number of detached pamphlets,) -is the delivery of the watch to Dr. Maskelyne, at the Royal Observatory, -in May, 1766, that its rate of going might there be tried. The Report of -the Astronomer Royal states, that it could not be depended upon within a -degree of longitude in a voyage of six weeks; and a very angry pamphlet, -published by Harrison in the following year, accuses Maskelyne of having -treated the instrument unfairly. Many circumstances are stated which now -appear ludicrous, and some which, if true, would have reflected -discredit on the Commissioners. But nothing can be inferred, after the -refusal of Harrison to accede to the very reasonable demand of the -Commissioners, except that he was most probably as wrong in his -suspicions as he had been foolish in his dealings. The end of this -dispute was, that in 1767 Harrison complied with the conditions insisted -upon; and, it having been found that his improvements were such as -admitted of execution by another person, he received the whole sum -awarded to him by the Act of Parliament. - -Harrison was not a well-educated man, and was deficient in the power of -expressing his meaning clearly. It was easier for him, no doubt, to make -two watches than to explain one; and hence, perhaps, his aversion to -“men of theory,” who troubled him for descriptions and explanations. - -He died in 1776, at his house in Red Lion Square, having been engaged -during the latter years of his life in bringing his improvements still -nearer to perfection. His last work, which was tried in 1772, was found -to have erred only four seconds and a half in ten weeks. - -In his younger days, some church-bells, which were out of tune, set him -upon examining the musical scale, with a view to correct them. He -communicated his ideas on the subject to Dr. Smith, who confirmed and -extended them in his well-known work on Harmonics. In the Preface it is -stated that Harrison made the interval of the major-third bear to that -of the octave the proportion of the diameter of a circle to its -circumference. This, he said, he did on the authority of a friend, who -assured him it would give the best scale. Harrison himself wrote a -treatise on the scale, but we do not know whether it was published. - -He is, on the whole, a fine instance of the union of originality with -perseverance. The inventions, of which it takes so short a space to tell -the history, were the work of fifty years of labour, and to them the art -of constructing chronometers, and consequently the science of -navigation, is indebted for much of its present advanced state. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by C. E. Wagstaff._ - - MONTAIGNE. - - _From an original Picture at Paris, in the “Dépot des Archives du - Royaume.”_ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - MONTAIGNE. - - -Michel, Seigneur, or Lord, of MONTAIGNE, a feudal estate in the province -of Perigord, near the river Dordogne, was born February 28, 1533, of a -family said to have been originally from England. He was a younger son; -but, by the death of his elder brother, inherited the estate by the -title of which he is known. His father, a blunt feudal noble, who had -served in the wars of Francis I., placed him out at nurse in a village -of his domain, and directed that he should be treated in the same manner -as the children of the peasants. As soon as he could speak, he was -placed under the care of a German tutor, selected for his ignorance of -the French, and intimate acquaintance with the Greek and Latin -languages. All Montaigne’s intercourse with his preceptor was carried on -in Latin; and even his parents made a rule never to address him except -in that language, of which they picked up a sufficient number of words -for common purposes. The attendants were enjoined to follow the same -practice. “They all became latinized,” says Montaigne himself, “and even -the villagers around learnt words in that language, some of which took -root in the country, and became of common use among the people.” Thus, -without any formal course of scholastic teaching, Montaigne spoke Latin -long before he could speak French, which he was afterwards obliged to -learn as if it had been a foreign language. When, at a mature age, he -was writing his Essays, he professed to be still ignorant of grammar, -having learnt various languages by practice, and not knowing yet the -meaning of adjective, conjunctive, or ablative, (Essais, b. i. c. 48.) -This last assertion probably is not to be taken strictly to the letter. -He studied Greek also by way of pastime, rather than as a task. The -object of his father was to make him learn without constraint and from -his own wish; and, as an instance of the old soldier’s whimsical notions -on education, he caused his son to be awakened in the morning to the -sound of music, that his nervous system might not be injured by any -sudden shock. At six years old Montaigne was sent to the College of -Guienne, at Bordeaux, an establishment which then enjoyed a very high -reputation. He soon made his way to the higher classes; and at thirteen -years of age had completed his college education. Having no taste for -military life, which was then the usual career of young noblemen, he -studied the law; and in 1554 was made Councillor (or Judge) in the -Parliament of Bordeaux, in which capacity he acted for several years. He -went several times to Court, and enjoyed the favour of Henry II., by -whom, or as some say, by Charles IX., he was made a Gentleman of the -King’s Chamber, and Knight of the Order of St. Michel. Among his brother -councillors at Bordeaux there was a young man of distinguished merit, -called La Boëtie, for whom Montaigne conceived a feeling of the most -romantic friendship, which soon became reciprocal. The sentiments and -opinions of the two seem to have sympathized in an extraordinary degree. -La Boëtie died young, but his friend’s affection survived: a chapter of -the Essays is devoted to his memory, and in other parts of Montaigne’s -writings we find frequent recurrence to the same subject. - -Montaigne married Françoise de la Chassaigne when he was thirty-three -years of age; and this he did, as he says, in consequence of external -persuasions, and in order to please his friends rather than himself, for -he was not inclined to a married life; “but once married, although he -had been till then considered a licentious man, he observed the conjugal -laws more strictly than he had himself expected.” On succeeding to the -family estate, on which he generally resided, he took the management of -it into his own hands; and although his father, judging from his habits -of abstraction and seeming carelessness of worldly objects, had foretold -that he would ruin his patrimony, Montaigne, at his death, left the -property if not much better, certainly not worse than he found it. He -was not rich, for we are told, by Balzac, that his income did not exceed -6000 livres, which was no great revenue for a country gentleman even at -that time. In 1569 he translated into French a Latin work of Sebonde or -Sebon, in defence of the mysteries and doctrines of the Church of Rome, -against Luther and other Protestant writers. France was at that time -desolated by civil and religious war. Montaigne, although he evidently -disapproved of the conduct of the Court towards the Protestants, yet -remained loyal to the King. He lived in retirement, and took no part in -public affairs, except by exhorting both parties to moderation and -mutual charity. By this conduct he became, as it generally happens, -obnoxious to both factions, and he incurred some danger in consequence. -The massacre of St. Bartholomew plunged him into a deep melancholy. He -detested cruelty and the shedding of blood, and in several passages of -his Essays has animadverted in strong terms upon the atrocities -committed against the Protestants. It was about this dismal epoch of -1572, when, solitude and melancholy urging him to the task, he began to -write that celebrated work, of which we shall presently speak more at -length. It was first published in March, 1580; and had great success. -After some time, Montaigne printed a new edition of it, with additions; -but without making any alterations in the part which had appeared -before. The popularity of the book was such that in a few years there -was hardly a man of education in France who had not a copy of it. - -Soon after the first publication of his Essays, Montaigne undertook a -journey for the sake of his health. He went to Germany, Switzerland, -and, lastly, to Italy. He visited several bathing-places, among others, -Baden, and the baths of Lucca in Tuscany. He proceeded to Rome, where he -was well received by several Cardinals and other persons of distinction, -and was introduced to Pope Gregory XIII. Montaigne was delighted with -Rome; he found himself at home among those localities and monuments -which were connected with his earliest studies, and with the first -impressions of his childhood. His remarks on what he saw in the course -of his journey are those of a man of penetration, sincere and plain -spoken, and written in his peculiar antique style. His MS. journal, -after lying forgotten for nearly two centuries, was discovered in an old -chest in the château of his family, and published in 1775, by M. de -Querlon, under the following title, ‘Journal du Voyage de Michel de -Montaigne en Italie, par la Suisse et l’Allemagne, en 1580–1.’ It is one -of the earliest descriptions of Italy in a modern language. In this -journey, Montaigne received the freedom of the city of Rome, by a -special bull of the Pope, which he valued as the proudest distinction of -his life. - -While he was abroad, he was elected mayor of Bordeaux by the votes of -the citizens; an honour which he would have declined, but that the king, -Henry III., insisted on his accepting of it. This was a mere honorary -office, no emolument being attached to it. The appointment was for two -years; but Montaigne was re-elected at the expiration of that period, -which was a mark of public favour of rare occurrence. - -On retiring from his office, Montaigne returned to his estate. The -country was then ravaged by the war of the League. He had great -difficulty in saving his family and property in the midst of the -contending parties, and once narrowly escaped assassination in his -château. To add to the miseries of civil war, the plague broke out in -his neighbourhood in 1586; and he then, with his family, left his home -and became a wanderer, residing successively at several friends’ houses -in other parts of the country. He was at Paris in 1588, busy about a new -edition of his Essays. It appears from De Thou, that about this time he -was employed in negotiation with a view to mediate peace between Henry -of Navarre, afterwards Henry IV., and the Duke of Guise. At Paris, he -made the acquaintance of Mademoiselle de Gournay, a young lady, who had -conceived a kind of sentimental affection for him by reading his book. -In company with her mother, she visited and introduced herself to him, -and from that time he called her his “fille d’alliance,” or adopted -daughter, a title which she retained for the rest of her life, as she -never married. This attachment, which, though warm and reciprocal, has -every appearance of being of a purely platonic nature, is one of the -remarkable circumstances of Montaigne’s life. At the time of his death, -Mademoiselle de Gournay and her mother crossed one-half of France, in -spite of the civil troubles and the insecurity of the roads, to mix -their tears with those of his widow and daughter. - -On his return from Paris, in the latter part of 1588, Montaigne stopped -at Blois, with De Thou, Pasquier, and other friends. The famous -States-General were then assembled in that city, where the murder of the -Duke of Guise, and of his brother, the Cardinal, soon after took place -(23d and 24th December, 1588). Montaigne had long foreseen that the -civil dissensions could only terminate with the death of one of the -great party leaders; and he also said to De Thou that Henry of Navarre -was inclined to embrace the Catholic faith, were he not afraid of being -forsaken by his party; and that, on the other side, Guise himself would -not have been averse from adopting the Protestant religion, if he could -thereby have promoted his ambitious views. After these events, Montaigne -returned to his château. In the following year, he became acquainted -with Pierre Charron, a theological writer of considerable reputation. An -intimate friendship ensued between the two authors; and Charron, in his -book ‘De la Sagesse,’ borrowed many thoughts from the Essays, which he -held in high estimation. Montaigne, by his will, empowered Charron to -assume the coat of arms of his family, as he himself had no male issue. - -Montaigne’s health had been declining for some time; he was afflicted -with gravel and cholic, and he was obstinately resolved against -consulting physicians. In September, 1592, he fell ill of a malignant -quinsy, which kept him speechless for three days, during which he had -recourse to his pen to signify to his wife his last intentions. He -desired that several gentlemen of the neighbourhood should be requested -to come and take leave of him. When they were assembled in his room, a -priest said mass, and at the elevation of the host, Montaigne half -raised himself on his bed, with his hands joined together, and in that -attitude expired, September 13, 1592, in the sixtieth year of his age. -His body was buried at Bordeaux, in the church of the Feuillans, where a -monument was erected to him by his widow. He left an only daughter, -heiress of his property. - -Montaigne’s Essays have been the subject of much and very conflicting -criticism. If we consider the age and the intellectual condition of the -country in which the author was born, we must pronounce them a very -extraordinary work, not so much on account of the learning contained in -them, as for the philosophical spirit and the frank, independent, -liberal tone that pervades their pages. Civilization and literature were -then at a low ebb in France; the language was hardly formed, the country -was still torn by the rude turbulence, and subject to the oppression, of -feudal lords and feudal laws; and was, moreover, distracted by ignorant -fanaticism, by deadly intolerance, and by civil factions, rendered more -fierce by religious feuds. It is very remarkable that, in a remote -province of a country so situated, a country gentleman, himself -belonging to the feudal aristocracy, should have composed a work full of -moral maxims and precepts, conceived in the spirit of the philosophers -of Greece and Rome, and founded, not on the sanctions of revealed -religion, but on a sort of natural system of ethics, on the beauty of -virtue, on the innate sense of justice, on the lessons of history. It is -almost more remarkable that such a book should have been read with -avidity amidst the turmoil of factions, the din of civil war, the knell -of persecution and massacre. - -The morality of the Essays has been called, and justly so, a pagan -morality: it is not founded on the faith and the hopes of a Christian; -and its principles are in many respects widely different from those of -the Gospel. Scepticism was the bias of Montaigne’s mind; his philosophy -is, in great measure, that of Seneca, and other ancient writers, whose -books were the first that were put into his hands when a child. -Accordingly, Pascal, Nicole, Leclerc, and other Christian moralists, -while rendering full justice to Montaigne’s talents and the many good -sentiments scattered about the Essays, are very severe upon his ethics, -taken as a system. Yet he was not a determined infidel, for not only in -the Essays, but in the journal of his travels, which was not intended -for publication, he manifests Christian sentiments; and we have seen -that the mode of his death was that of a Christian. In his chapter on -prayers, (Essais, b. i. 56,) he recommends the use of the Lord’s Prayer -in terms evidently sincere; and in a preceding chapter, after speaking -of two sorts of ignorance, the one, that which precedes all instruction, -and the other, that which follows partial instruction, he says, that -“men of simple minds, devoid of curiosity and of learning, are -Christians through reverence and obedience; that minds of middle growth -and moderate capacities are the most prone to error and doubt; but that -higher intellects, more clear-sighted and better grounded in science, -form a superior class of believers, who, through long and religious -investigations, arrive at the fountain of light of the Scriptures, and -feel the mysterious and divine meaning of our ecclesiastical doctrines. -And we see some who reach this last stage, through the second, with -marvellous fruit and confirmation; and who, having attained the extreme -boundary of Christian intelligence, enjoy their success with modesty and -thanksgivings, accompanied by a total reformation of their morals, -unlike those men of another stamp, who, in order to clear themselves of -the suspicion of their past errors, become violent, indiscreet, unjust, -and throw discredit on the cause which they pretend to serve.” (Essais, -b. i. ch. 54.) And a few lines after, he modestly places himself in the -second rank, of those who, disdaining the first state of uninformed -simplicity, have not yet attained the third and last exalted stage, and -who, he says, are thereby rendered “inept, importunate, and troublesome -to society. But I, for my part, endeavour, as much as I can, to fall -back upon my first and natural condition, from which I have idly -attempted to depart.” Although we may not trust implicitly to the -sincerity of this modest admission, yet we clearly see from this and -other passages, that Montaigne’s mind was anything but dogmatical, and -that he felt the insecurity of his own philosophy, which was made up of -impulses and doubts, rather than of argumentation and conviction. - -Montaigne has been also censured for several licentious and some cynical -passages of his ‘Essais.’ This licentiousness, however, is rather in the -expressions than in the meaning of the author. He spoke plainly of -things which are not alluded to in a more refined state of society, but -he did so evidently without mischievous intentions, and as a thing of -common occurrence in his days. His early familiarity with the Latin -classics probably contributed to this habit. - -Notwithstanding these faults, Montaigne’s Essays are justly admired for -the sound sense, honesty, and beauty which abound in them. ‘The best -parts of them (says a French critic) are those in which he speaks of the -passions and inclinations of men; as for his learning, it is vague, not -methodical, and uncertain; and his philosophical maxims are often -dangerous.’ (Mélanges d’Histoire et de Litterature,’ Rouen, 1699, tom. -i. p. 133.) Montaigne combats most earnestly all the malignant feelings -inherent in man, inhumanity, injustice, oppression, uncharitableness; -cruelty he detests, his whole nature was averse from it. His chapters on -pedantry and on the education of children are remarkably good. He -throws, at times, considerable light on the state of society and manners -in France in his time, which may be considered as the last period of -feudal power in that country. In his chapter on the inequality among -men, he speaks of the independence of the French nobility, especially in -the provinces remote from the Court, as Britanny; where the feudal lords -living on their estates, surrounded by their vassals, their officers and -valets, their household conducted with an almost royal ceremonial, heard -of the king but once a-year as if he were some distant king or Sultan of -Persia, and only remembered him on the score of some distant -relationship, which they hold carefully registered among their ancestral -documents. - -Mademoiselle de Gournay edited Montaigne’s ‘Essais’ in 1635, and -dedicated the edition to the Cardinal de Richelieu. She wrote a long -preface to it, which is a zealous apology for Montaigne and his works -against the charges of the earlier critics. An edition of the ‘Essais’ -was published by Pierre Coste, 3 vols. 4to. London, 1724, enriched with -valuable notes and several letters of Montaigne at the end of the third -volume. The edition of Paris, 3 vols. 4to. 1725, is, in great measure, a -reprint of that of Coste, except that the publishers have added extracts -of the various judgments of the most distinguished critical writers -concerning the ‘Essais,’ and also two more letters of Montaigne’s at the -end. These additions render this Paris edition the most complete. The -ex-senator Vernier published in 1810, ‘Notices et Observations pour -faciliter la Lecture des Essais de Montaigne,’ Paris, 2 vols. 8vo. It is -a useful commentary. - - - - -[Illustration] - - POPE. - - -Alexander Pope was born in London, June S, 1688. His father was a -merchant, of good family, attached to the Roman Catholic religion; and -his own childish years were spent, first under the tuition of a priest, -then at a Roman Catholic Seminary at Twyford, near Winchester. He taught -himself to write by copying printed books, in the execution of which he -attained great neatness and exactness. When little more than eight years -old he accidentally met with Ogilby’s Translation of Homer. The -versification is insipid and lifeless; but the stirring events and -captivating character of the story so possessed his mind, that Ogilby -became a favourite book. When about ten years old he was removed from -Twyford to a school at Hyde Park Corner. He had there occasional -opportunities of frequenting the theatre; which suggested to him the -amusement of turning the chief events in Homer into a kind of play, -composed of a succession of speeches from Ogilby, strung together by -verses of his own. In these two schools he seems, instead of advancing, -to have lost what he had gained under his first tutor. When twelve years -old he went to live with his parents at Binfield, in Windsor Forest. He -there became acquainted with the writings of Spenser, Waller, and -Dryden. For the latter he conceived the greatest admiration. He saw him -once, and commemorates the event in his correspondence, under the words -“Virgilium tantum vidi:” but he was too young to have made acquaintance -with that master of English verse, who died in 1701. He studied Dryden’s -works with equal attention and pleasure, adopted them as a model of -rhythm, and copied the structure of that author’s periods. This was, -however, so far from a grovelling imitation, that it enabled him to -raise English rhyme to the most perfect melody of which it is capable. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by J. Posselwhite._ - - POPE. - - _From the Picture by Hudson in the possession of His Grace the Duke of - Buckingham._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - -In the retirement of Binfield, Pope laboured successfully to make amends -for the loss of past time. At fourteen years of age he had written with -some elegance, and at fifteen had attained some knowledge of the Greek -and Latin languages, to which he soon added French and Italian. In 1704 -he began his pastorals, published in 1709, which introduced him, through -Wycherley, to the acquaintance of Walsh, who proved a sincere friend to -him. That gentleman discovered at once that Pope’s talent lay less in -striking out new thoughts of his own, than in easy versification, and in -improving what he borrowed from the ancients. Among other useful hints, -he pointed out that we had several great poets, but that none of them -were correct; he therefore admonished him to make that merit his own. -The advice was gratefully received; and Pope’s correspondence shows that -it was carefully followed. His melodious numbers, so marked a feature of -his style, were in a great measure the result of that suggestion. - -In the same year, 1704, he wrote the first part of his ‘Windsor Forest’: -the whole was not published till 1713. The fault charged on this poem -is, that few images are introduced which are not equally applicable to -any other sylvan scenery. It was dedicated to Lord Lansdowne, whom he -mentions as one of his earliest acquaintance. To those already named, -may be added Bolingbroke, Congreve, Garth, Swift, Atterbury, Talbot, -Somers, and Sheffield, whose friendship he had gained at sixteen or -seventeen years of age. Pope, to his credit be it set down, cultivated -friendships not only with the great, but with his brethren among the -poets. Wycherley indeed was infected with the weakness of the archbishop -in ‘Gil Blas,’ touching his own compositions, and the young poet was -imprudently caustic in his criticism on the old one. Their -correspondence was consequently dropped; and though renewed through the -mediation of a common friend, it was with no revival of cordiality. But -in 1728, some time after Wycherley’s death, his poems were republished; -and in the following year Pope printed several letters which had passed -between them, in vindication of Wycherley’s fame as a poet, in answer to -certain misrepresentations prefixed to that edition. This quarrel was a -trying affair in the outset of Pope’s career, and his conduct had been -above his years; but young as he was, his talents were now beginning to -ripen. His example confirms the truth of Lord Bacon’s remark, that -personal deformity acts as a spur to that improvement of the mind, which -is most likely to rescue him who is curtailed of his due proportion from -a sense of degradation. - -To this early period of Pope’s life belong the ‘Messiah,’ the ‘Ode for -St. Cecilia’s Day,’ ‘Verses to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady,’ and -other of Pope’s minor pieces, which were collected and published in a -small 8vo. volume in 1720. It is stated in a note to Dr. Johnson’s Life, -that Pope himself was the object of the passion commemorated in the -last-mentioned poem. The date of that most brilliant composition, -‘Eloisa to Abelard,’ is uncertain. The ‘Essay on Criticism’ was written -in 1709, “A work,” says Johnson, “which displays such extent of -comprehension, such nicety of distinction, such acquaintance with -mankind, and such knowledge both of ancient and modern learning, as are -not often attained by the maturest age and longest experience.” Pope’s -fame was carried to its height by the ‘Rape of the Lock.’ That poem -originated in an impertinence offered by Lord Petre to Mrs. Arabella -Fermor, which led to a quarrel between their respective families. Both -parties were among Pope’s acquaintance, and this lively piece was -written to produce a reconciliation, in which it succeeded. The -universal applause given to the first sketch induced the author to -enrich it with the machinery of the Sylphs. In that new dress the two -cantos, extended to five, came out in 1712, accompanied by a letter to -Mrs. Arabella Fermor, to whom he afterwards addressed another after her -marriage, in the spruce and courtly style of Voiture. A sentence or two -may be quoted as a sample of the poet’s epistolary manner. “Madam, you -are sensible, by this time, how much the tenderness of one man of merit -is to be preferred to the addresses of a thousand; and by this time, the -gentleman you have made choice of is sensible how great is the joy of -having all those charms and good qualities which have pleased so many, -now applied to please one only.... It may be expected, perhaps, that one -who has the title of being a wit should say something more polite upon -this occasion; but I am really more a well-wisher to your felicity, than -a celebrator of your beauty.... I hope you will think it but just that a -man, who will certainly be spoken of as your admirer after he is dead, -may have the happiness, while he is living, to be esteemed, Yours, &c.” -This letter is sometimes annexed to the poem, and not injudiciously, as -it completes the winding-up in the happy marriage of the heroine. In the -same year he published his ‘Temple of Fame,’ which, according to his -habitual caution, he had kept two years in his study. It appears from -one of his letters, that at that time he had made some progress in -translating the Iliad: in 1713, he circulated proposals for publishing -his translation by subscription. He had been pressed to this undertaking -some time before by several of his friends, and was now encouraged in -the design by others. The publication of the first four books, in 1715, -gave general satisfaction; and so materially improved the author’s -finances, that he resolved to come nearer to his friends in the capital. -With that view, the small estate at Binfield was sold, and he purchased -a house at Twickenham, whither he removed with his father and mother -before the end of the year 1715. While employed in the decoration of his -seat, he could not forbear doubling his pleasures by boasting of it in -his communications with his friends. In a letter to Mr. Blount he says, -in his customary tone of gallantry, “The young ladies may be assured -that I make nothing new in my gardens, without wishing to see them print -their fairy steps in every corner of them.... You’ll think I have been -very poetical in this description, but it is pretty nearly the truth.” -This letter was written in 1725. Warburton tells us that the improvement -of his celebrated grotto was the favourite amusement of his declining -years: not long before his death, by enlarging and ornamenting it with -ores and minerals of the richest and rarest kind, he had made it a most -elegant and romantic retirement. But modern taste will scarcely confirm -the reverend editor’s assertion, that “the beauty of his poetic genius, -in the disposition and ornaments of those romantic materials, appeared -to as much advantage as in any of his best-contrived poems.” - -Pope’s father survived his removal to Twickenham only two years. The old -gentleman had sometimes recommended to his son the study of medicine, as -the best method of increasing his scanty patrimony. Neglect of pecuniary -considerations was not among Pope’s weaknesses: he did not indeed engage -in the medical profession; but he took other opportunities of pushing -his fortune. With this view, he published an edition of his collected -poems in 1717; a proceeding as much suggested by profit as by fame. In -the like disposition, he undertook a new edition of Shakspeare, which -was published in 1721. The execution of it proved the editor’s unfitness -for the task which he had undertaken. Immediately after the completion -of the Iliad, in 1720, Pope engaged, for a considerable sum, to -undertake the Odyssey. Only twelve books, however, of the translation -proceeded from his own pen: the rest were done by Broome and Fenton -under his direction. The work was completed in 1725. The following year -was employed, in concert with Swift and Arbuthnot, in the publication of -miscellanies, of which the most remarkable is the celebrated ‘History of -Martinus Scriblerus.’ About this time, as he was returning home one day -in Lord Bolingbroke’s chariot, it was overturned on Chase Bridge, near -Twickenham, and thrown with the horses into the river. The glasses being -up, Pope was nearly drowned, and was extricated with difficulty from his -hazardous situation. He lost the use of two fingers, in consequence of a -severe cut from the broken glass. - -Having secured an independent fortune, Pope endeavoured to protect his -literary fame from all future attacks, by browbeating every one into -silence: this he hoped to accomplish by the poem of the ‘Dunciad,’ which -came out in 4to. in the year 1727. He somewhere says, that the life of -an author is a state of warfare: he now showed himself a master in -literary tactics, a great captain in offensive as well as defensive war. -The poem made its first appearance in Ireland, cautiously, as a masked -battery; nor was the triumph completed without the co-operation of an -Eugene with this satirical Marlborough in the person of Swift, who -furnished some of the materials in his own masterly style of sarcasm. -The improved edition was printed in London in 1728. Sir Robert Walpole -presented it to the King and Queen, and, probably at the same time, -offered to procure the author a pension; but Pope refused this, as he -had before, in 1714, rejected a similar proposal from Lord Halifax. In a -letter to Swift, written about this time, he expresses his feelings -thus: “I was once before displeased at you for complaining to Mr. —— of -my not having a pension; I am so again at your naming it to a certain -lord.” In 1710, Mr. Craggs had given him a subscription for one hundred -pounds in the South Sea Fund; but he made no use of it. These favours -must be understood to have been proffered for the purpose of estranging -him from his personal friends; and this repeated rejection of them is an -honourable proof of steadiness to his attachments. - -In 1729, the poet, by Lord Bolingbroke’s advice, turned his pen to moral -subjects; and, with the assistance of his friend, set to work upon the -‘Essay on Man.’ Bolingbroke writes thus to Swift: “Bid Pope talk to you -of the work he is about, I hope in good earnest; it is a fine one, and -will be, in his hands, an original.” Pope tells the dean, in his next -letter, what this work was. “The work Lord Bolingbroke speaks of with -such abundant partiality, is a system of ethics, in the Horatian way.” -In another letter, written probably at the beginning of the following -year, we trace the general aim which he at all events wished the public -to attribute to this work. “I am just now writing, or rather planning, a -book to bring mankind to look upon this life with comfort and pleasure, -and put morality in good humour.” This subject was well suited to his -genius. He found the performance more easy than he had expected, and -employed his leisure by following up the design in his Ethic Epistles, -which came out separately in the course of the two following years. The -fourth, addressed to the Earl of Burlington, did no good to the author’s -character, in consequence of the violent attack supposed to be made on -the Duke of Chandos, a beneficent and esteemed nobleman, under the name -of Timon. Pope loudly asserted that in drawing Timon’s character he had -not the Duke in view: but his denials have not obtained credence; and he -has thus incurred the charge of equivocation and falsehood, without -exculpating himself from that of ingratitude and wanton insolence. The -vexation caused by this business was somewhat softened by the rapid and -lucrative sale of the epistle, which very soon went through the press a -third time. In a letter to Lord Bolingbroke he says, “Certainly the -writer deserved more candour, even in those who knew him not, than to -promote a report, which, in regard to that noble person, was -impertinent; in regard to me, villainous. I have taken an opportunity of -the third edition, to declare his belief not only of my innocence, but -of their malignity; of the former of which my heart is as conscious as I -fear some of theirs must be of the latter. His humanity feels a concern -for the injury done to me, while his greatness of mind can bear with -indifference the insult offered to himself.” He concludes with a threat -of using real instead of fictitious names in his future works. How far -he carried that menace into effect will presently be seen. The -complaints made against the epistle in question by secret enemies -provoked him to write satire, in which he ventured to attack the -characters of some persons in high life: the affront was of course -resented, and he retaliated by renewing his invective against them, both -in prose and verse. In the imitation of the first satire of the second -book of Horace, he had described Lord Hervey and Lady Mary Wortley -Montague so characteristically, under the names of Lord Fanny and -Sappho, that those noble personages, besides fighting the aggressor with -his own weapons, used their interests to his injury, not only among the -nobility, but with the King and Queen. Pope remonstrated most strongly -against this last mode of revenge. He continued writing satires till the -year 1739, when he entertained some thoughts of undertaking an epic poem -on the pretended colonization of our island by the Trojan Brute. A -sketch of this project, which he never carried into effect, is given in -Ruffhead’s ‘Life of Pope,’ p. 410. - -Pope was an elaborate letter-writer; and many of his familiar epistles -found their way into the world without his privity. Under the plea of -self-defence he published a correct and genuine collection of them in -1737. About this time the weak state of his health drew him frequently -to Bath. Mr. Allen, a resident in the neighbourhood, having been pleased -with the letters, took occasion to form an acquaintance with the author, -which soon ripened into friendship. Hence arose Pope’s intimacy with -Warburton, who tells us that, before they knew each other, he had -written his ‘Commentary on the Art of Criticism, and on the Essay on -Man.’ One complaint against that essay had rested on its obscurity, of -which the author had previously been warned by Swift. But this was -comparatively a slight objection: the philosophic poet was charged with -having insidiously laid down a scheme of deism. A French translation, by -the Abbé Resnil, appeared at Paris in 1738, on which a German professor, -by name Crousaz, animadverted, as a system of ethics embodying the -doctrine of fatalism. Pope thus acknowledges his obligation to Warburton -for his defence: “You have made my system as clear as I ought to have -done, and could not; you understand me as well as I do myself, but you -express me better than I express myself.” The ‘Essay on Man’ was -republished with the Commentary annexed in 1740; and at the instance of -Warburton, a fourth book was added to the ‘Dunciad,’ and printed -separately in 1742. - -In the course of the following year the whole poem of the ‘Dunciad’ was -published together, as a specimen of a more correct edition of Pope’s -works, which the author had then resolved to give to the world; but he -did not live to complete it. He had through life been subject to an -habitual headache inherited from his mother, and this was now greatly -increased, with the addition of dropsical symptoms. He died on the 30th -of May, 1744, in the fifty-sixth year of his age. Pursuant to his own -request, his body was laid in the same vault with those of his parents, -to whose memory he had erected a monument, with an inscription written -by himself, immediately on their respective deaths. To this, in -conformity with his will, the simple words, “Et sibi,” with the date of -his death, were added. He bequeathed to Warburton the property of such -of his works already printed as he had written, or should write, -commentaries upon, provided they had not been otherwise disposed of or -alienated; with this condition, that they were to be published without -future alterations. After he had made his will, he wrote a letter to -this legatee, announcing his legacy, and saying, “I own the late -encroachments upon my constitution make me willing to see the end of all -further care about me, or my works. I would rest for the one in a full -resignation of my being to be disposed of by the Father of all mercy; -and for the other (though indeed a trifle, yet a trifle may be some -example), I would commit them to the candour of a sensible and -reflecting judge, rather than to the malice of every shortsighted and -malevolent critic, or inadvertent and censorious reader. And no hand can -set them in so good a light, or so well can turn their best side to the -day, as your own.” In discharge of his trust, Warburton put forth a -complete edition of all Pope’s works in 1751; and, according to his own -persuasion, executed it conformably to the presumed wishes of the -author. In point of elegance, allowing for the state of typography at -the time, no objection could be made, nor could the poet’s orders have -been more faithfully obeyed, in forming the various pieces into a -collection. But some of Warburton’s remarks are in a less friendly tone -than might have been expected; and if not absolutely injurious to his -memory, are such as leave Pope’s moral character in a measure open to -attack. Many circumstances are related in the large biographies of Pope, -which our inclination would as little allow us as our limits to detail. -Some of them would not compensate in desirable information for the -tediousness of the narrative: others relate to defunct controversies. To -the latter of these classes may be referred Pope’s quarrel with Colley -Cibber, which loaded the press with vulgar indecency on both sides; -also, Bolingbroke’s charge of treachery brought against Pope in an -advertisement prefixed to a tract published by his lordship in 1749, -five years after the accused could no longer answer his accuser. - -We shall not devote any part of our confined space to an examination of -the faults and weaknesses of this eminent man: they have been fully -dwelt on in works of easy access. Some apology for many of them may be -found in his bodily infirmities, deformed frame, and extreme debility of -constitution. Pope’s person, character, and writings are treated of at -large by Dr. Warton, in his ‘Essay.’ Ruffhead’s ‘Life of Pope’ contains -much curious and entertaining matter. Dr. Johnson’s examination of -Pope’s works is among the most elaborate and best pieces of criticism in -his ‘Lives of the Poets.’ We cannot better conclude than with his -description of Pope’s appearance, and summing up of his poetical -character. “The person of Pope is well known not to have been formed by -the nicest model. He has, in his account of the ‘Little Club,’ compared -himself to a spider, and by another is described as protuberant before -and behind. He is said to have been beautiful in his infancy: but he was -of a constitution originally feeble and weak; and, as bodies of a tender -frame are easily distorted, his deformity was probably in part the -effect of his application. His stature was so low, that, to bring him to -a level with common tables, it was necessary to raise his seat. But his -face was not displeasing, and his eyes animated and vivid....” “It is -surely superfluous to answer the question that has once been asked, -whether Pope was a poet, otherwise than by asking, in return, if Pope be -not a poet, where is poetry to be found? To circumscribe poetry by a -definition will only show the narrowness of the definer, though a -definition which shall exclude Pope will not easily be made. Let us look -round upon the present time, and back upon the past; let us inquire to -whom the voice of mankind has decreed the wreath of poetry; let their -productions be examined, and their claims stated, and the pretensions of -Pope will be no more disputed. Had he given the world only his version, -the name of poet must have been allowed him: if the writer of the Iliad -were to class his successors, he would assign a very high place to his -translator, without requiring any other evidence of genius.” With -respect to the translation of the Iliad, it is fair to give Pope the -benefit of Dr. Johnson’s praise. But we are justified by the consentient -voice of almost all scholars, in condemning it as an unfaithful and -meretricious version, composed in a spirit totally different from that -of Homer, and bearing no resemblance to his manner. - -Our engraving is from a copy of the original picture by Hudson, made by -T. Uwins, A.R.A. - -[Illustration: [Entrance to Pope’s Grotto.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. Holl._ - - BOLIVAR. - - _From an Engraving by Mr. H. Ponte._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - BOLIVAR. - - -The history of Bolivar is that of the revolutions in Columbia and Peru. -Nothing remarkable is related of his early life; and with respect to his -personal merits as a soldier and statesman, he has shared the common lot -of eminent men, in being extravagantly praised and violently censured. -He has been compared to Cæsar and Napoleon on the one hand; and he has -been accused of frivolity, incompetency, and even cowardice, on the -other. The time for forming a dispassionate opinion of his character is -not yet arrived. We shall, therefore, confine ourselves to a short -sketch of the establishment of independence on the Spanish Main, so far -as Bolivar was concerned in it; premising that we merely follow the -course of history in giving him the credit of those measures which were -carried into execution under his authority and ostensible guidance. - -Simon Bolivar was born in the city of Caracas, the capital of Venezuela, -on the 24th or 25th of July, 1783. In early childhood he lost both his -parents, who were of noble family, and possessed of large estates. At -the age of fourteen or sixteen, he was sent to Spain for education. His -habits are said to have been dissipated; but he paid some attention to -the study of jurisprudence. After visiting Italy and France, he returned -to Madrid, married, and in 1809 returned to reside on his estates near -Caracas. It is positively asserted, and as positively denied, that -Bolivar had an active share in the decisive movement at Caracas, April -19, 1810, when the Spanish authorities were deposed. A congress was -summoned, which met March 2, 1811. Bolivar received a colonel’s -commission, and was sent to claim the protection of Great Britain. The -date of his return to South America we do not find: but he is said to -have been concerned in the first military operations of the patriots; -and in September, 1811, he was appointed governor of the strong sea-port -of Puerto Cabello. In March, 1812, a violent earthquake took place. The -clergy succeeded in producing a considerable reaction in favour of -royalist principles, by representing this calamity to be a manifestation -of God’s wrath against revolution. Monteverde, the royal general, then -advanced, and met with rapid success. The strong hold of Puerto Cabello, -the chief depôt of the patriots, was wrested from Bolivar by an -insurrection of the prisoners confined in it; the patriot army became -dispirited; and General Miranda, under the sanction of congress, -concluded a treaty, July 26, 1812, by which an amnesty was concluded, -and the province of Venezuela returned under the dominion of Spain. -Miranda was subsequently arrested on a futile charge of treachery to the -patriot cause, and delivered to the Spaniards, who kept him in prison to -the day of his death. In this unjustifiable transaction, Bolivar had a -principal share. - -Bolivar retired for a short time to his estate; but he soon became -uneasy at the frequency of arrests, and obtained a passport to quit the -country. He retired to Curaçoa. In the following September, his active -temper led him to seek employment in the patriot army of New Granada, -which had declared itself independent in 1811, and still held out, with -better fortune than Venezuela. He obtained a trifling command, not such -as to satisfy his ambition; and on his own responsibility, he undertook -an expedition against the Spaniards on the east bank of the river -Magdalena, in which he succeeded; clearing the country of Spanish posts -from Mompox, on the above named river, to the town of Ocaña, on the -frontier of Caracas. This exploit attracted public notice. He conceived -the bold plan of invading Venezuela with his small forces, and the -congress of New Granada consented to his making the attempt, and raised -him to the rank of brigadier. He crossed the frontier with little more -than 500 men; but the country rose in arms to second him; and after -several engagements, in which the patriots were successful, he defeated -Monteverde in person at the battle of Lastoguanes, and, finally, entered -Caracas, the capital of Venezuela, in triumph, August 4, 1813. - -At this time no regular government could be said to exist; but a -convention of the chief civil and military functionaries, held at -Caracas, January 2, 1814, conferred on Bolivar the title of Liberator of -Venezuela, and invested him with the office of Dictator, and the supreme -control over both branches of the executive. But these successes were -followed by a rapid reverse; and before the end of the year, he was -beaten out of Venezuela, and obliged to return to New Granada. That -country was harassed by the contests of numerous and discordant parties. -Bolivar was received with respect by the congress; and was entrusted -with the task of compelling the dissentient province of Santa Fe de -Bogotá, afterwards named Cundinamarca, to accede to the union of the -other provinces. He marched against the city of Bogotá in December, at -the head of 2000 men. It was not in a condition to resist, and -capitulated, after the suburbs had been taken by storm. It will afford -an instance of the difficulty of getting at the real character of -Bolivar, to say, that we find it stated in one account that his -behaviour at Bogotá received not only the thanks of Congress, but the -approbation of the citizens; while another author asserts, that -notwithstanding the capitulation, and in spite of the most urgent -remonstrances, he permitted the pillage of part of the city for the -space of forty-eight hours. He was then appointed to act against the -strong town of Santa Martha, which commands the mouth of the river -Magdalena. Unfortunately, private enmity between himself and Castillo, -the governor of Carthagena, led to dissensions which ended in the -investment of Carthagena, instead of Santa Martha, by Bolivar. During -this civil strife, which led to consequences most injurious to the -patriot cause, General Morillo arrived from Spain, now enabled by the -peace of 1814 to act with more vigour against her revolted colonies; and -Bolivar gave up his command, on the pretext that the harmony and -advantage of the army required it, and embarked for Jamaica, May 10, -1815. During his abode at Kingston, he narrowly escaped assassination at -the hands of a Spaniard, who stabbed to the heart a person who chanced -to occupy the bed in which Bolivar usually slept. From Jamaica, he went -to Hayti, where, with the help of the president Petion, and in -conjunction with a French officer, Commodore Brion, he drew together a -force, with which he again raised the standard of independence in the -province of Cumana, in May, 1816: but he was soon driven out of the -country, and returned to Hayti, whence, in December, he again sailed to -the island of Margarita, and he issued a proclamation convoking a -congress of the representatives of Venezuela. He then repaired to -Barcelona, and organised a provisional government. During the years 1817 -and 1818, the struggle was obstinate; but the patriot cause on the whole -gained a decided advantage. In February 1819, Bolivar summoned a -congress at Angostura, on the river Orinoco, and resigned his authority -into its hands. The assembly, however, continued to him the executive -power, with the title of Provisional President of Venezuela, until the -expulsion of the enemy should afford a prospect of more settled times. - -Bolivar rejoined the army in March, and soon after conducted his forces -to join the patriots in New Granada. Two battles, on the 1st and 23d of -July, were fought to the advantage of the patriots, whose cause obtained -a final triumph in the decisive victory won August 7, at Bojaca. Bolivar -advanced at once to Bogotá, where he was enthusiastically welcomed; and -within a short time, eleven provinces of New Granada announced their -adhesion to the cause of independence. He summoned a congress, by which -he was appointed President, and Captain-general of the Republic. -Meanwhile a party, jealous of his intentions, had obtained the -ascendancy in the Venezuela Congress held at Angostura; and Bolivar, -fearful of being supplanted, quitted the scene of war with his best -troops and marched to Angostura. His presence, with such a force, turned -the scale in favour of the party attached to his interest. It was -determined to summon a general convention from the independent provinces -of Venezuela and Granada; and December 17, 1819, the celebrated decree -was passed by which the two states were united, and entitled the -Republic of Columbia. Bolivar was appointed President. - -Strengthened by union, the patriots took the field in greater force than -they had hitherto been able to raise. The course of war during 1820 was -on the whole favourable to them. In November, an armistice for six -months was concluded. Soon after the renewal of hostilities, an -important victory was gained by the Columbian troops under Bolivar, at -Carabobo, not far from the city of Valencia, June 21, 1821, which may be -regarded as having closed the war in Venezuela. Before the end of the -year, Columbia was nearly cleared of Spanish troops, with the exception -of the province of Quito; and time was found to attend to the -establishment of civil order. The constitution of the short-lived -Columbian Republic was adopted, August 20, 1821, and Bolivar was -appointed First Constitutional President. - -The war was then directed against the Spaniards in the south. In -January, 1822, Bolivar himself conducted operations in the province of -Pasto, lying to the north of Quito, while General Sucre, who had been -sent previously to assist the cause of independence in Guayaquil, after -liberating the southern provinces of Loxa and Cuenca, advanced -northwards, and secured independence to the province of Quito by the -decisive victory of Pichincha, May 24, 1822. But though this portion of -Columbia was now cleared of enemies, there could be no security to the -frontier provinces while the Spaniards held Peru; and it was therefore -determined to send assistance to the patriots in that country. Bolivar -landed at Lima, September 1, 1823, and was invested with supreme power -as Dictator of Peru. It was not until the end of 1825, however, that the -war of independence was finished; and the honour of this, in a military -point of view, belongs rather to Sucre than to Bolivar. - -On the establishment of a separate republic in 1825, in the province -called by the Spaniards Upper Peru, the new state paid a high compliment -to the Liberator, by assuming the name of Bolivia, and requesting him to -draw up a constitution for its adoption. In compliance with the wish -thus expressed, he presented to the constituent congress in May, 1826, -the celebrated Bolivian Code; for an account of which we must refer to -the ‘Encyclopædia Americana,’ or the appendix to the ‘Memoirs of General -Miller.’ This forms a remarkable era in Bolivar’s life; for, out of the -institutions of this code, arose the first suspicions that the Liberator -was at heart indisposed to republican institutions. It was however -adopted; and Sucre was appointed President. Meanwhile, though the -deliverance of Peru was completed, Bolivar showed no intention of -leading home the Columbian troops. A congress summoned at Lima, in -February, 1825, continued to him, for another year, the dictatorial -power which he had received on his first entrance into the country. A -second congress, held in 1826, adopted the same course, adding a -recommendation that he should consult the provinces as to the form of -government which it might be desirable to establish. The result was, -that the Bolivian Code was declared to be adopted by Peru, and Bolivar -himself was nominated President. - -During the Liberator’s long absence in the south, the northern provinces -of Columbia became involved in civil confusion. The Vice-president, -General Santander, was a man of firmness and ability; but the -newly-formed government wanted consistency, and that habitual respect -which is paid to long recognised authority. In April, 1826, General -Paez, who commanded in Venezuela, being summoned before the senate of -Columbia to answer certain charges, refused obedience, trusting to the -devoted attachment of the troops under his command: and to this private -act of rebellion, something of a national character was given, by the -accession of many in Venezuela, who disapproved of the union with New -Granada, or distrusted the intentions of those who held the reins of -power. At the same time, the southern departments, which had formerly -composed the presidency of Quito, displayed a strong inclination to -adopt the Bolivian Code. Bolivar has not escaped the suspicion of having -fomented these troubles, with a view to convince all parties that -tranquillity could only be secured by strengthening the executive, by -appointing him Dictator of the Columbian Republic. Being recalled for -the suppression of these disturbances, he quitted Lima in September, -1826, and hastened to Caracas, where, instead of punishing, he met Paez -upon friendly terms, confirmed him in the office which he held, and -published a general amnesty on the submission of the insurgents. The -term for which he was elected President had now expired. He had been -re-elected, and should have gone through the forms of taking office at -the beginning of 1827; but in February, he announced his intention to -resign, and retire to his estates, in consequence of the imputations of -ambition cast upon him. The spring was spent by Congress in discussing -this matter; and at last, June 6, it was finally determined not to -accept his resignation, and a general convention was summoned to meet at -Ocaña, March 2, 1828, to revise the constitution. In September, Bolivar -again assumed the office of President. - -Meanwhile a speedy revolution had taken place in Peru. It is no great -argument of Bolivar’s purity of purpose, that, a year after the war was -finished, the Columbian auxiliaries were still retained by him in -Bolivia and Peru, one division being quartered in the former country, -and two in the latter. Many of them were strongly attached to their -general, and perhaps had no objection to becoming instruments of his -ambition, so far as Peru was concerned. But when he incurred the -suspicion of meditating the overthrow of the Columbian constitution, -they took fire. The division quartered at Lima matured a plan of revolt, -arrested their generals, who were personally attached to Bolivar, and -announced to the authorities of Lima their desire to relieve the -Peruvians from a constitution which had been forced upon them, and to -return home to defend their own country. Hereupon, in concurrence with -the generally declared wish of the people throughout Peru, the Bolivian -Code was thrown aside only a few weeks after it had been adopted; and in -June, 1827, a new congress was summoned, and a new President and -Vice-president of the republic were elected. The troops embarked; but on -their landing in Columbia, part placed themselves under the orders of -officers sent to take the command of them, and the rest were easily -reduced to obedience. - -The convention met at the appointed time. Bolivar opened the proceedings -with an address, in which he ascribed the internal troubles of Columbia -to the want of sufficient power in the executive department, and plainly -intimated his opinion that the constitution had been founded on views -too liberal to be adapted to the state of society existing in that -country. His speech was very much in accordance with the views developed -in the Bolivian Code, and furnished good reason for believing that he -was no less willing to accept supreme power than his friends were -disposed to invest him with it, as the only remedy for existing evils. -The majority of the convention, however, were suspicious of the -President’s intentions. Finding themselves in a minority, his friends -vacated their seats in the assembly, which being thus reduced below the -number necessary to give validity to its proceedings, became virtually -extinct. - -In this state of things, a meeting was convened at Bogotá, June 13, of -the principal civil and military residents, at which resolutions were -passed investing Bolivar with the most extensive powers as Supreme Chief -of Columbia. He himself was not present, but in the near neighbourhood; -and on receiving intimation of these resolutions, he made a solemn entry -into Bogotá, June 20, and assumed the powers thus gratuitously bestowed -upon him, not, it is to be observed, by the act of the convention, or of -any body authorised to interfere in any way with the existing -constitution. Great dissatisfaction was felt by those who were not -attached to the party of Bolivar; and in the following September, a -conspiracy was organised in the garrison of Bogotá, to which the -President’s life had nearly fallen a sacrifice. It was quelled however. -General Santander, the Vice-president, was accused of being concerned in -it, and was banished from Columbia. Partial insurrections subsequently -broke out in various places. Towards the close of 1829, the discontent -which had formerly appeared in Venezuela, manifested itself more -decidedly. Paez put himself at the head of the dissatisfied party; and -in a very short time, the whole province raised the standard of -independence, and expressed its determination to be merged no longer in -the Columbian Republic. In the midst of these tumults, Bolivar resolved -at length to retire from the eminent station in which he had been the -cause of so much offence. He had issued a proclamation, December 24, -1828, summoning a convention in January, 1830, to frame a new permanent -constitution for Columbia. It met at the appointed time. Bolivar, in -opening the deliberations, expressed his determination not to accept -again the chief magistracy of the state; but, as he had said the same -thing in equally strong terms before, nobody paid much attention to the -declaration. This time, however, he adhered to it. Besides the labour of -making a new constitution, the convention had to discuss the difficult -question of the secession of Venezuela: nor was this all, for as that -district had separated itself from the Columbian Republic, in a great -degree Owing to its distrust of Bolivar, so the southern provinces -refused to acknowledge the new constitution unless he were placed at its -head. The convention wisely resolved, with respect to Venezuela, that -every peaceful method should be tried to prevent its secession, but that -it would not be expedient or proper to attempt to maintain the union by -force. To anticipate a little the order of time, the Venezuelans were -resolved to have an independent government; and finally, in 1832, the -short-lived republic of Columbia was divided into three, bearing -respectively the titles of Venezuela, New Granada, and the Republic of -the Equator, which was formed out of the southern provinces of Quito, -Guayaquil, and Assuai. - -After the adoption of the new constitution of 1830, Bolivar retired to -the province of Carthagena, exhausted both in body and mind. He died at -Santa Martha, December 17, 1830, leaving a character on the merits of -which it is difficult to pronounce a decided opinion. His name will not -soon be forgotten, for it is indissolubly connected with the cause of -independence in South America: but, in reviewing the progress and -prospects of North and South America, it is impossible not to remark -Bolivar’s inferiority to Washington, both in talent and virtue, and not -to reflect with regret how different, in all probability, the conduct -and the prosperity of the South American republics would have been if -they had possessed such a leader as the first President of the United -States. - -The chief books which have been consulted for this sketch have been the -‘Annual Register,’ General Ducoudray Holstein’s ‘Memoirs of Bolivar,’ a -work evidently written under strong feelings of personal hostility, the -article Bolivar in the ‘Encyclopædia Americana,’ and a short account of -the Liberator in the ‘Memoirs of General Miller.’ In these works there -is so much discrepancy, not only of opinions, but of facts and dates, -that we do not venture to hope that we have escaped errors. A clear and -impartial history of the war of independence is still a desideratum. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by J. Posselwhite._ - - ARKWRIGHT. - - _From a Picture by Wright of Derby._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - ARKWRIGHT. - - -In the history of trade there is nothing so remarkable as the rapid and -immense increase of the British cotton manufacture during the last -thirty years of the eighteenth century. Two nearly contemporaneous -discoveries concurred to produce that increase: the invention of -machinery for spinning; and the improvement, we might almost say -completion, of the steam-engine by James Watt. To his eminent merits we -have borne our testimony in the first volume of this work; and scarcely -less important, though less imposing, have been the services of the -ingenious men who contrived to spin thread without the use of the human -hand. We do not hesitate to take Arkwright as the representative of -those who wrought this great revolution in our manufacturing system, for -though recent evidence has refuted his claim to the invention, properly -speaking, of spinning by machinery, he was the first person who rendered -that invention profitable. - -By the year 1760, the manufacture of cotton goods, which had been -increasing slowly from the beginning of the century, had attained -considerable importance. In 1764, the declared value of British cotton -goods exported was upwards of 200,000_l._, having increased tenfold -within forty or fifty years. At this period the demand for them exceeded -the supply, in consequence of the difficulty of obtaining a sufficient -quantity of yarn for weaving. The one-thread spinning-wheel, now nearly -banished from our cottages, was then the sole source from which -spun-yarn could be obtained; and the trades of spinning and weaving were -commonly united in a humble manner—the man wove, while his wife and -daughters spun. If this domestic supply was insufficient, the weaver had -often to waste time and labour in collecting materials for his daily -work. Mr. Guest states, that “it was no uncommon thing for a weaver to -walk three or four miles in a morning, and call on five or six spinners, -before he could collect weft to serve him for the remainder of the day; -and when he wished to weave a piece in a shorter time than usual, a new -ribbon or a gown was necessary to quicken the exertions of the spinner.” -This check existing on the industry of the weaver, it is no wonder that -mechanical ingenuity was tasked to invent a quicker way of spinning. The -principle of the first plan by which this was effected may be easily -explained. Suppose a ribbon placed between two horizontal cylinders -which are in contact with each other; if the cylinders are made to -revolve, it is evident that they will draw the ribbon onwards in the -direction of their motion. Again, if the foremost end of it be presented -to a second pair of similar revolving cylinders, it will be drawn -through these also. If both pairs revolve with exactly the same -velocity, it will pass through them unaltered; but if the second pair -revolve with greater velocity than the first, there will be a certain -strain on the intermediate ribbon, which, if extensible, will be -stretched in the same degree that the velocity of the second pair of -rollers exceeds that of the first. Now cotton, after being cleaned and -carded, comes from the card in fleecy rolls, the fibres of which are -laid parallel, and so made fit to spin. To reduce these to thread or -yarn takes more than one operation: the first brings the _cardings_ into -thick, loosely twisted threads, called _rovings_; the subsequent ones -reduce the rovings into yarn fit for the loom. It is evident that both -the cardings and rovings are fitted by their texture for the process of -extension by rollers described above; and that they would be drawn out -twofold, fourfold, or in any greater or less degree, proportionate to -the difference of velocity between the first and second pair of rollers. -From the second pair the thread is delivered to a spindle, which gives -the due degree of twist; and it is finally wound on a bobbin: the whole -being set in motion by the same mechanical power. It is evident that -many spindles might be attached to, and many threads spun by, the same -combination of rollers. Arkwright claimed the merit of this invention. -It is proved, however, by the undeniable evidence of an existing patent, -printed by Mr. Baines in his History of the Cotton Manufacture, that -this principle of spinning by rollers was patented so early as the year -1738, by a foreigner named Lewis Paul; the real inventor was John Wyatt, -of Birmingham. In their hands however, though the invention did not -absolutely fail, it did not so succeed as to be brought into general -use, or even to become profitable to the inventors. Simple and obvious -as the _principle_ appears when once laid down, great difficulties were -to be overcome in forming this stretched cotton into a useful thread; as -may be conceived from reflecting on the great rapidity with which, to -make spinning profitable, parts of the machine must move, the perfect -regularity of motion requisite, and the slightness of the strain which a -few untwisted filaments of cotton will bear. For the apparently trivial -object of producing a uniform line of fine yarn, the utmost efforts of -mechanical ingenuity have been called forth, and some of the most -beautiful, delicate, and powerful machinery in existence has been -constructed. It was in overcoming these difficulties that the talent or -perseverance of Paul and Wyatt failed; the merit of conquering them, and -giving birth to a new system of manufacture, belongs to Arkwright. We -quote the following notice of his early life from Mr. Baines:— - -“Richard Arkwright rose by the force of his natural talents from a very -humble condition in society. He was born at Preston, December 23, 1732, -of poor parents. Being the youngest of thirteen children, his parents -could only afford to give him an education of the humblest kind, and he -was scarcely able to write. He was brought up to the trade of a barber, -at Kirkham and Preston, and established himself in that business at -Bolton, in 1760. Having become possessed of a chemical process for -dyeing human hair, which in that day, when wigs were universal, was of -considerable value, he travelled about collecting hair, and again -disposing of it when dyed. In 1761, he married a wife from Leigh, and -the connexions he thus formed in that town are supposed to have -afterwards brought him acquainted with Highs’s experiments in making -spinning machines. He himself manifested a strong bent for experiments -in mechanics, which he is stated to have followed with so much -devotedness as to have neglected his business and injured his -circumstances. His natural disposition was ardent, enterprising, and -stubbornly persevering; his mind was as coarse as it was bold and -active, and his manners were rough and unpleasing.” - -In the course of his travels in 1767, he fell in with a clockmaker, -named Kay, at Warrington, whom he employed as a workman in prosecuting -some of his mechanical experiments. Kay, according to his own account, -gave Arkwright some description of a machine contrived by one Highs, for -spinning by rollers. It is certain that from thenceforward Arkwright -abandoned his former pursuits, and applied himself, in conjunction with -Kay, to the construction of a spinning machine. One Smalley, a -liquor-merchant of Preston, assisted him with money; and the two, -fearing lest they might be endangered by a riotous spirit which had been -directed against machinery in Lancashire, went to settle at Nottingham. -There Arkwright obtained an introduction to Messrs. Need and Strutt, two -gentlemen largely engaged in the stocking manufactory, who appreciated -his talents, and entered into partnership with him. What became of Mr. -Smalley we do not hear. Arkwright took out a patent for his invention, -which was enrolled, July 15, 1769. The partners erected a mill near -Nottingham, which was turned by horse-power: but this was soon -superseded by a much larger establishment at Cromford in Derbyshire, on -the river Derwent, in which water-power was applied for the first time -to the purpose of spinning; and from that circumstance Arkwright’s -machine was called the _water-frame_. - -As the difficulty of meeting the weavers’ demand for yarn had led to the -invention of machines for spinning, so the rapid manufacture of yarn -rendered it indispensable to facilitate the prior operations in -preparing the raw material. Men’s minds had been turned to this object -for some time. The operation of carding, whether wool or cotton, was at -first done with hand-cards of small size. The first improvement was the -invention of stock-cards, one of which was fixed, and the other held in -the hand, or afterwards suspended from above, so that the workman could -manage a much larger card, and prepare more cotton in a given time. The -next and main improvement was placing cards lengthways upon a cylinder, -which worked within a concave half cylinder of the same diameter. This -process was patented by Paul in 1748. But he derived no profit from -this, any more than from his former patent; and it was not until after -the improvements in spinning that the method of carding by cylinders was -brought into use. Arkwright was not the first to revive it, but he had a -great share in perfecting the carding machinery when it had been -revived. The raw cotton being carded, an extension, or rather a new -application, of the principle of spinning by rollers converted the -cardings into rovings, which again were made into yarn fit for the loom -by the water-frame, or, as it is now called in an improved form, the -_throstle_. Arkwright took out his second patent, December 16, 1775; -this included the carding machine, drawing-frame, and roving-frame, a -series of engines by which the cotton, from its raw state, was rendered -fit for the last process of spinning. We shall not attempt to explain -the construction of these elaborate machines, which can hardly be -rendered intelligible even by the help of numerous plates. - -The process of turning cotton-wool into thread by machinery was thus -completed. Before we follow its effects upon Arkwright’s fortunes, it is -proper to say a few words concerning other improvements. About, or -somewhat earlier than, the time when Arkwright’s attention was first -turned to spinning, a weaver named James Hargreaves, of Stand Hill, near -Blackburn, invented a machine by which, according to the terms of the -patent, sixteen or more threads might be spun by one person at the same -time. This is the machine so well known under the name of the -_spinning-jenny_. Hargreaves’ patent was invaded, and invalidated on -technical grounds; so that his machine came rapidly into general use, -and for spinning the _weft_ was preferred to Arkwright’s water-frame, -from which it was entirely different in principle. Samuel Crompton, an -ingenious weaver resident near Bolton, between the years 1774 and 1779, -tried to unite the principles of both, and produced a machine which, on -that account, he called a _mule_. This, under different improved forms, -is the machine now generally used in spinning; but the water-frame, or -throstle, is still found to answer best for some kinds of work[11]. But -to return to the fortunes of Arkwright: the series of machines which he -invented or improved gave an amazing impulse to the cotton trade. -“Weavers could now obtain an unlimited quantity of yarn at a reasonable -price; manufacturers could use warps of cotton, which were much cheaper -than the linen warps formerly used. Cotton fabrics could be sold lower -than had ever before been known. The demand for them consequently -increased. The shuttle flew with fresh energy, and the weavers earned -immoderately high wages. Spinning-mills were erected to supply the -requisite quantity of yarn. The fame of Arkwright resounded through the -land, and capitalists flocked to him to buy his patent machines, or -permission to use them.” * * * - -Footnote 11: - - A third person has been mentioned as the inventor both of the jenny - and of roller-spinning, Thomas Highs, of Leigh, above-mentioned, whose - claims seem entitled to more courteous notice than they have met with - in the Edinburgh Review. There is nothing unreasonable in supposing - that both Highs and Arkwright may have heard of Wyatt’s method of - spinning by rollers, which was practised in two factories, one erected - at Birmingham, the other at Nottingham. - -“The factory system in England takes its rise from this period. Hitherto -the cotton manufacture had been carried on almost entirely in the houses -of the workmen: the hand or stock-cards, the spinning-wheel, and the -loom, required no larger apartment than that of a cottage. A -spinning-jenny of small size might also be used in a cottage, and in -many instances was so used; when the number of spindles was considerably -increased, adjacent workshops were used. But the water-frame, the -carding-engine, and the other machines which Arkwright brought out in a -finished state, required both more space than could be found in a -cottage, and more power than could be applied by the human arm. Their -weight also made it necessary to place them in strongly-built mills, and -they could not be advantageously turned by any power then known but that -of water.” - -“The use of machinery was accompanied by a greater division of labour -than existed in the primitive state of the manufacture; the material -went through many more processes, and of course the loss of time and the -risk of waste would have been much increased, if its removal from house -to house at every stage of the manufacture had been necessary. It became -obvious that there were several important advantages in carrying on the -numerous operations of an extensive manufacture in the same building. -Where water-power was required, it was economy to build one mill, and -put up one water-wheel, rather than several. This arrangement also -enabled the master-spinner himself to superintend every stage of the -manufacture; it gave him a greater security against the wasteful or -fraudulent consumption of the material; it saved time in the -transference of the work from hand to hand; and it prevented the extreme -inconvenience which would have resulted from the failure of one class of -workmen to perform their part, when several other classes of workmen -were dependent upon them. Another circumstance which made it -advantageous to have a large number of machines in one manufactory was, -that mechanics must be employed on the spot to construct and repair the -machinery, and that their time could not be fully occupied with only a -few machines.” - -“All these considerations drove the cotton-spinners to that important -change in the economy of English manufactures, the introduction of the -factory system; and when that system had once been adopted, such were -its pecuniary advantages that mercantile competition would have rendered -it impossible, even had it been desirable, to abandon it.” (Baines, -‘History of Cotton Manufacture,’ pages 183, 185.) - -It was not to be expected that Arkwright would enjoy undisturbed so -valuable a monopoly as that which he had created, and many persons -infringed his patents, in the belief that he was not the real owner of -the inventions which he claimed. An attempt was made in 1772 to set -aside his first patent for the water-frame; but this failed, and he -retained the enjoyment of that patent unquestioned till the expiration -of the fourteen years. To preserve his second patent, for the carding, -drawing, and roving machines, he brought several actions against -master-spinners, one of which, against Colonel Mordaunt, was tried in -1781, and a verdict was obtained for the defendant, setting aside the -patent. Arkwright for some time did not contest this decision. But in -1785, he made another attempt to establish his second patent before a -court of law; and in the first instance obtained a verdict in his own -favour, but on the cause being reheard, the patent was finally declared -invalid. - -Notwithstanding this defeat, Arkwright rapidly acquired a very large -fortune, through the magnitude of his concerns, and his industry, -penetration, and skill in business. On the dissolution of his -partnership with the Messrs. Strutt about 1783, the extensive works at -Cromford fell to his share. In 1786, he was High Sheriff of Derbyshire, -and was knighted, on occasion of presenting an address to the King. We -find no other record worth notice of the last years of his life. He -died, August 3, 1792, in his sixtieth year. - -Arkwright’s originality and honesty as an inventor have been violently -impugned by Mr. Guest, in his History of the Cotton Manufacture. The -arguments on the other side may be seen in the Edinburgh Review, No. 91, -to which Guest published a reply. Mr. Baines’s History of the Cotton -Manufacture, which we have chiefly followed and largely quoted from in -this account, contains the latest and fullest account which we have seen -of Arkwright’s character and history. There appears to have been some -alloy of selfishness and disingenuousness in his disposition, some -ground for the statement of counsel in the trial of 1785: “It is a -notorious story in the manufacturing counties; all men that have seen -Mr. Arkwright in a state of opulence have shaken their heads, and -thought of these poor men, Highs and Kay, and have thought, too, that -they were entitled to some participation of the profits.” Still it -becomes us to speak with gentleness of the faults of a person to whose -talents, nationally speaking, we owe so much: and there is much to be -said in extenuation of them, in consideration of the lowness of his -original calling, of the self-complacency and sensitive jealousy common -to almost all schemers, and the fascination of wealth when it flows -largely and unexpectedly upon a man bred in extreme poverty. As an -inventor Arkwright’s merit is undeniable. Mr. Baines, who seems to have -judged calmly and impartially, assigns to him the high praise, that “in -improving and perfecting mechanical inventions, in exactly adapting them -to the purposes for which they were intended, in arranging a -comprehensive system of manufacturing, and in conducting vast and -complicated concerns, he displayed a bold and fertile mind, and -consummate judgment, which, when his want of education, and the -influence of an employment so extremely unfavourable to mental expansion -as that of his previous life, are considered, must have excited the -astonishment of mankind. But the marvellous and ‘unbounded invention,’ -which he claimed for himself and which has been too readily accorded to -him—the _creative faculty_ which devised all that admirable mechanism, -so entirely new in its principles, and characteristic of the first order -of mechanical genius—which has given a new spring to the industry of the -world, and within half a century has reared up the most extensive -manufacture ever known—this did not belong to Arkwright.” * * * * * * * - -“The most marked traits in the character of Arkwright were his wonderful -ardour, energy, and perseverance. He commonly laboured in his -multifarious concerns from five o’clock in the morning till nine at -night; and when considerably more than fifty years of age, feeling that -the defects of his education placed him under great difficulty and -inconvenience in conducting his correspondence, and in the general -management of his business, he encroached upon his sleep, in order to -gain an hour each day to learn English grammar, and another hour to -improve his writing and orthography! He was impatient of whatever -interfered with his favourite pursuits; and the fact is too strikingly -characteristic not to be mentioned, that he separated from his wife not -many years after his marriage, because she, convinced that he would -starve his family by scheming when he should have been shaving, broke -some of his experimental models of machinery. Arkwright was a severe -economist of time; and, that he might not waste a moment, he generally -travelled with four horses, and at a very rapid speed. His concerns in -Derbyshire, Lancashire, and Scotland, were so extensive and numerous as -to show at once his astonishing power of transacting business, and his -all-grasping spirit. In many of these he had partners, but he generally -managed in such a way that, whoever lost, he himself was a gainer. So -unbounded was his confidence in the success of his machinery, and in the -national wealth to be produced by it, that he would make light of -discussions on taxation, and say that he would pay the national debt! -His speculative schemes were vast and daring; he contemplated entering -into the most extensive mercantile transactions, and buying up all the -cotton in the world, in order to make an enormous profit by the -monopoly; and from the extravagance of some of these designs, his -judicious friends were of opinion that, if he had tried to put them in -practice, he might have overset the whole fabric of his prosperity.” - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. Holl._ - - COWPER. - - _From a Picture in the Possession of the Publisher._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - COWPER. - - -William Cowper was born at the rectory of Berkhampstead, in -Hertfordshire, Nov. 26, 1731. He was nearly related to the noble family -of that name, his great-uncle having been chancellor and first Earl -Cowper: his grandfather, the brother of the chancellor, was a judge of -the common pleas. Cowper’s mother died before he was six years old. Soon -afterwards he was sent to a country school, from which, at the age of -nine, he was removed to Westminster. It is probable that one cause among -others of his future unhappiness was the early loss of that tender -parent, whose “constant flow of love,” beautifully acknowledged in his -verses on receiving her picture, and in many parts of his -correspondence, made a deep and lasting impression on his infant mind. -Cowper was exactly the boy to require a mother’s care. His constitution -was delicate, his mind sensitive and timid; and he discovered a tendency -to dejection, which was aggravated by the tyranny then practised at our -public schools. Quitting Westminster at eighteen, with a good character -for talent and scholarship, he went at once into an attorney’s office; -where he spent three years, according to his own account, with very -little profit. He then became a member of the Inner Temple, intending to -practise at the bar. At this period of life he amused himself with -composition, and showed a strong predilection for polite literature and -agreeable society; but he had no taste for the law, and took no pains to -qualify himself for his profession. Long afterwards he deeply lamented -the loss of time during his early manhood, and earnestly warned his -young friends against a similar error. - -In 1763 Cowper was appointed to the lucrative office of reading clerk, -and clerk of the private committees of the House of Lords. The fairest -prospect of happiness now lay before him, for his union with one of his -cousins, it is said, had only been deferred until he should obtain a -satisfactory establishment. But the idea of reading in public was -intolerable to him; and he gave up this office for the less valuable one -of clerk of the journals, in which it was hoped that his personal -appearance before the House would not be required. Unfortunately it did -prove necessary that he should appear at the bar to qualify himself for -the post. “They whose spirits are formed like mine,” he thus expressed -himself in after-life, “to whom a public exhibition of themselves is -mortal poison, may have some ideas of the horrors of my situation: -others can have none.” He fought hard against this morbid feeling; but, -when the day arrived for entering upon his duties, such was his terror -and distress, that even his friends acquiesced in his abandoning the -attempt. But his mind had been disordered in the struggle, and he -shortly sank into deep religious despondency; so that it was found -necessary, in December, 1763, to place him in a lunatic asylum at St. -Albans, under the care of Dr. Cotton. - -Cowper’s insanity at this period, and the grievous dejection of the last -twenty-seven years of his life, have been imputed to the so-called -gloominess of his religious tenets. From that opinion we entirely -dissent. No sense of religious abasement can be conceived able to drive -a sane man to distraction at the thought of having to appear in a public -capacity before Parliament; and Cowper’s struggles and mental distress -on that occasion were anterior to his receiving any serious impressions -of religion. Moreover, it appears certain that his recovery was due to -more encouraging views of the doctrines of the Gospel, assisted by the -kind and judicious mental, as well as bodily, treatment of Dr. Cotton. -For eight years his religion was the source of unfailing cheerfulness -and active benevolence; and after he ceased to derive pleasure from it -in his own person, he was still mild and charitable in his conduct -towards others, and his opinions concerning them. The extent of Cowper’s -mental wandering on subjects unconnected with his own spiritual state is -not perhaps generally known. A remarkable instance of it occurs in a -letter to his esteemed friend, Mr. Newton, dated October 2, 1787, from -which it appears that, during thirteen years, Cowper had entertained -doubts of Mr. Newton’s personal identity. At this latter period, -therefore, there was hallucination of mind, as well as religious gloom. -Cowper’s recovery from his first illness is dated in July, 1764; but he -remained with his friendly and beloved physician nearly a year more, -after which he took lodgings at Huntingdon, directed by the wish of -being within easy reach of his brother, who was a resident Fellow of -Benet College, Cambridge. - -He soon became acquainted with a family, bearing the name of Unwin, -consisting of a clergyman, his wife and daughter, and one son, an -undergraduate of Cambridge. Struck by Cowper’s appearance, the latter -threw himself into the stranger’s way; and a feeling of mutual regard -and esteem led to Cowper’s establishing himself as a permanent inmate in -Mr. Unwin’s family in November, 1765. After the lapse of nearly two -years in tranquil happiness, the sudden death of Mr. Unwin led to the -family’s departure from Huntingdon to Olney in Buckinghamshire, in -October, 1767. But the foundation had been laid of a friendship which no -misfortune or change of circumstance could destroy; and Cowper and Mrs. -Unwin united their slender incomes, and continued to dwell under the -same roof. The first six years of their abode at Olney were spent in -domestic quiet and retirement almost unbroken, except by the society of -Mr. Newton, an eminent and exemplary divine, who was then curate on the -living. The well-known collection called the “Olney Hymns” were composed -by Cowper and Newton, for the most part, during this period. But in 1773 -Cowper’s mental disease returned in the dreadful shape of religious -despondency. He conceived himself to be set apart for eternal misery: -yet amid the deep gloom produced by the loss of that spiritual happiness -which he had enjoyed since his recovery from his first illness, he was -so entirely submissive that he was accustomed to say, “If holding up my -finger would save me from endless torments, I would not do it against -the will of God;” and in accordance with the belief that his own fate -was sealed, he ceased to pray, and absented himself entirely from divine -worship. The depth of his dejection was gradually cheered by the -affectionate, watchful, and judicious care of his guardian friend, Mrs. -Unwin. One of the first signs of improvement was a desire to tame some -leverets. He was soon supplied with three, which have obtained celebrity -in prose and verse, such as no other hares have enjoyed before or since. -He tried at different times gardening, drawing, and a variety of -trifling manual occupations, as methods of diverting his thoughts from -his own miseries. “Many arts I have exercised with this view,” he says -in a letter to Mrs. King, “for which nature never designed me, though -among them were some in which I arrived at considerable proficiency, by -mere dint of the most heroic perseverance. There is not a squire in all -this country who can boast of having made better squirrel houses, -hutches for rabbits, or bird-cages, than myself; and in the article of -cabbage-nets I had no superior. But gardening was, of all employments, -that in which I succeeded best, though even in this I did not suddenly -attain perfection.” (Oct. 11, 1788.) At last he devoted himself to -writing, “a whim,” he says elsewhere, “that has served me longest and -best, and will probably be my latest.” His first volume of poems, -containing “Table Talk,” &c. was published in the summer of 1781, having -been written chiefly in the preceding winter. It was undertaken at the -instance of Mrs. Unwin, who, on his recovery from a long fit of unusual -dejection, urged him to devote his attention to a work of some extent, -and such as should require a considerable share of application and -attention. At the same time she suggested as a subject the “Progress of -Error,” which is the second piece in the volume. Cowper had already -written many of his lighter pieces, and that at the times when he was -labouring under the severest depression. He accounts for this singular -phenomenon with his peculiar and playful humour. “The mind, long wearied -with the sameness of a dull, dreary prospect, will gladly fix its eyes -on anything that may make a little variety in its contemplations, though -it were but a kitten playing with its tail.” - -Early in 1780, Cowper lost a valued friend, and almost his only -associate, by the removal of Mr. Newton to London. In the following year -he became acquainted with Lady Austen, who, for a short time, fills a -prominent place in the poet’s history. We must refer to fuller memoirs -for the tale of her introduction, and the gradual growth of that strict -intimacy which ensued between herself, Mrs. Unwin, and Cowper. For some -time the three friends spent a considerable portion of every day in each -other’s society; and Cowper was indebted to Lady Austen’s liveliness in -conversation and varied accomplishments for a great alleviation of his -mental sufferings. The famous history of John Gilpin owes its birth to a -story told by her one evening, to rouse the poet out of a fit of -despondency; and it engaged his fancy so strongly, that in the course of -the night, during which he was kept awake by fits of laughter, he turned -it into verse. The ballad soon got abroad, and obtained unusual -popularity: it was long before the author was known. “The Task” was -composed at Lady Austen’s request. She saw the benefit which Cowper -derived from earnest literary employment, and often urged him to try his -strength in blank verse. After some pressing, he promised to comply, if -she would furnish him with a subject. “Oh, you can write on anything,” -she said; “write on this sofa.” The lively answer chimed in with his -peculiar humour, and he adopted it literally: his sofa forms the subject -of the poem; the first book of which is entitled “The Sofa,” and opens -with a history of the invention and merits of that piece of furniture, -which is unsurpassed in its peculiar vein of humour. But the author soon -rises into a higher strain, and in his discursive range paints the -beauty of the country with that fidelity and exquisite sense of natural -beauty which constitutes his chief poetic merit; describes the peculiar -appearances and occupations of the winter season; weighs the evils and -advantages attendant on a high state of civilization; exhibits, in -reproving the faults of the age, his power both in the lighter -skirmishing of satire, and in the stern outpouring of an honest -indignation; inculcates the doctrines of that religion of peace and love -from which it was his own singular and melancholy lot to derive no -peace; and all with a beauty and facility of versification, and power of -illustration, sufficient to attract many whom the grave nature of the -subjects to be discussed would rather deter. The scope and conduct of -the work is well described in the following lines from the conclusion, -in which, anticipating death, he says— - - It shall not grieve me then, that once, when call’d - To dress a sofa with the flowers of verse, - I played awhile, obedient to the fair, - With that light task: but soon, to please her more, - Whom flowers alone I knew would little please, - Let fall the unfinish’d wreath, and roved for fruit; - Roved far and gather’d much: some harsh, ’tis true, - Pick’d from the thorns and briers of reproof, - But wholesome, well digested, grateful some - To palates that can taste immortal truth; - Insipid else, and sure to be despised. - -“The Task” was accompanied by a shorter poem, entitled “Tirocinium,” -written expressly in dispraise of the existing system of public schools -in England; and prompted by Cowper’s bitter recollection of his -sufferings at Westminster. The volume was published in 1785. - -As soon as this was completed, Cowper engaged in another more laborious -undertaking, the translation of Homer. This also was suggested by Lady -Austen; and it had a most beneficial effect in furnishing the poet with -constant employment from this time forward to the end of his life, with -the exception of those periods in which the pressure of disease was too -severe to admit of any exertion. He spared no pains in the execution of -this great work; and after his version was made, subjected it to a most -careful revision, amounting nearly to a re-translation. It was published -in 1791, and was preceded by a list of subscribers, whose number and -individual eminence bear testimony to the high esteem in which Cowper -was then held. His translation, however, has never been popular: he has -avoided Pope’s errors, but he has failed in giving life and interest, -and in catching the vital spirit of his author. - -During the long period which the literary labours above-mentioned -occupied, Cowper’s domestic history is characterized by the same general -depression and the same seclusion as we have above described. In 1784 -his friendship with Lady Austen was interrupted by a disagreement -between her and Mrs. Unwin, who seems to have feared that the former -might obtain an influence over the poet paramount to her own; and to -have been justly hurt at the prospect of becoming second in the -affections of him, to whom, for so many years, she had devoted herself -with a zeal which merited the utmost return. Cowper felt this, and he -himself broke off his intercourse with Lady Austen, in a way which was -admitted by herself to do credit to his delicacy and judgment, no less -than to his generosity. In about a year after the termination of this -valuable friendship, he received the best amends that could be made, in -the renewal of intercourse, after it had been interrupted for -twenty-three years, with his cousin Lady Hesketh, to whom from childhood -he had been strongly attached. She visited Olney in June, 1786; and from -that time forwards her purse and her personal exertions were unsparingly -bestowed to promote the comfort of her beloved cousin. At her instance -his confined and ruinous abode at Olney was exchanged in November, 1786, -for a commodious house in the pretty neighbouring village of Weston, -which was especially recommended to Cowper as being the residence of his -esteemed friends Mr. and Mrs. Throckmorton. Here Lady Hesketh commonly -spent part of the year. The state of Cowper’s spirits during his -residence at Weston was variable; but he made a few new acquaintance, -and among them his correspondent, Mr. Rose, and his biographer, Mr. -Hayley. He also enjoyed a vivid pleasure in the renewal of intercourse -with his maternal relations, among whom his young cousin Johnson, who -afterwards became his tender and devoted guardian, obtained an especial -place in his affections. Still, however, his mental malady continued -unabated; and a new cause of uneasiness beset him in the growing -infirmities of Mrs. Unwin. In March, 1792, the disease which had been -for some time sapping her strength, manifested itself in a paralytic -attack, from which she never entirely recovered. From thenceforward -Cowper’s time and attention were devoted, as his primary object, to -contributing to her comfort and amusement. In her company he quitted his -home, the first time for twenty-seven years, to visit Mr. Hayley’s seat -at Eartham, in Sussex. Two important works had engaged his attention: -one a poem on the four ages of man’s life, the other an edition of -Milton. These, however, were successively laid aside; and such time as -his weak spirits and melancholy occupation allowed him, be employed in -revising his Homer for a second edition. But Mrs. Unwin became more and -more enfeebled in mind and body; and in the beginning of 1794 Cowper -relapsed into a gloom as deep as that which he had endured at the -commencement of his malady. To watch over him in this melancholy Lady -Hesketh made Weston her constant, instead of her occasional abode, until -the middle of the following year, when her health gave way under the -constant pressure of anxiety. Mr. Johnson, who had taken orders, and -resided at East Dereham in Norfolk, then undertook the charge of his -unhappy relation; removed him and Mrs. Unwin into his own neighbourhood, -and watched over their decline with the most unwearied and judicious -tenderness. But little could now be done to give Cowper pleasure. The -pathetic poem, “To Mary,” is supposed by Mr. Hayley to have been the -last thing written by him before quitting Weston; and the only original -verses which he composed afterwards were some Latin lines, which he -translated into English, on the appearance of some ice islands in the -German Sea, and the touching poem called the “Cast-away,” founded on the -loss of a man overboard in Anson’s voyage, and alluding in an affecting -strain to his own unfortunate condition. After his departure from -Weston, he who had been so diligent a correspondent only wrote three or -four letters; nor could he be excited to converse by the visits even of -his most intimate friends, as Mr. Rose and Sir John Throckmorton. In -January, 1800, his final illness, which was dropsy, commenced. He died -April 25th in the same year; nor to the last did one gleam of hope break -through the darkness which had surrounded him for twenty-seven years. - -It was Cowper’s especial merit as a poet to cultivate simplicity and -nature. He set the example of throwing aside conventional affectations -and unmeaning pomp of diction, and in consideration of this great -service may well be pardoned for occasionally incurring the opposite -fault of being tame and prosaic. His genius was truly original: all his -writings, whether moral, satirical, or descriptive, bear the legible -impress of his own peculiar constitution of mind and habits of thinking. -His minor and occasional poems are very happy, for his imagination could -extract a deep and beautiful moral from slight occurrences, which -commonly pass unnoticed in the bustle of life. Many of his letters are -published in Hayley’s Life of Cowper; and these are embodied with the -Private Correspondence afterwards given to the world by Mr. Johnson, in -the edition of Cowper’s works by Mr. Grimshawe now in the press. As a -letter writer Cowper appears to us to be unequalled in the English -language. His correspondence is the genuine intercourse of friend with -friend; full of wit and humour, but a humour that never vents itself in -the depreciation of others; and abounding in passages of graver beauty, -expressed in the most easy, yet elegant and correct language. When once -a man knows that his letters are admired, he is in great danger of -writing for admiration. Cowper was aware of this, and occasionally -alludes to the temptation in lively terms. “I love praise dearly, -especially from the judicious, and those who have so much delicacy -themselves as not to offend mine in giving it. But then I found this -consequence attending, or likely to attend, the eulogium you bestowed. -If my friend thought me witty before, he shall think me ten times more -witty hereafter; where I joked once, I will joke five times; and for -every sensible remark, I will send him a dozen. Now this foolish vanity -would have spoiled me quite, and have made me as disgusting a letter -writer as Pope, who seems to have thought that unless a sentence was -well turned, and every sentence pointed with some conceit, it was not -worth the carriage. I was willing therefore to wait until the impression -that your commendation had made on the foolish part of me was worn off, -that I might scribble away as usual, and write my uppermost thoughts, -and those only.” (June 8, 1780. To the Rev. W. Unwin.) No one ever -avoided this danger better. It is strange and wonderful that these -compositions, which bear the stamp of so much cheerfulness and -benevolence, should have been written, most of them, in his deepest -gloom, and avowedly for the purpose of withdrawing his thoughts from his -own misery. - -[Illustration: [Tomb of Cowper, in East Dereham Church, Norfolk.]] - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Changed “better” to “letter” on p. 28. - 2. Changed “the placing the” to “the placing of the” on p. 128. - 3. Silently corrected typographical errors. - 4. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - 5. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - 6. Superscripts are denoted by a carat before a single superscript - character or a series of superscripted characters enclosed in - curly braces, e.g. M^r. or M^{ister}. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Gallery of Portraits: with -Memoirs. 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