IV. 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924104095744 
 
MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
/>4 
 
MEN I HAYE KNOWN. 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM JEKDAN, 
 
 COBBESPONDING MEMBER OF THE REAL ACADEMIA DE LA HISTOEIA OF SPAIN, 
 ETC. ETC. 
 
 Tamen me 
 
 Cum magnis vixisse invita fatebitur usque 
 Invidia. 
 
 Illustrated with Facsimile Autographs. 
 
 is 
 
 LONDON: 
 GEORGE EOUTLEDGE AND SONS, 
 
 BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL; 
 
 NEW YORK: 416, BROOME STREET. 
 
 1866. 
 
VAj-o^r^-f 
 
 ^SSIj+4 
 
 LONDON': 
 
 COX AND WTMAN, PRINTERS 
 
 GEEAT QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C. 
 
RIGHT HON. LORD CHIEF BARON POLLOCK. 
 
 MT DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 Two passages which occur in the sketches of Mr. Hallam 
 and Lord Truro, will suggest my reasons for desiring to inscribe 
 this Volume with your name. 
 
 And also, because there is no one else who can appre- 
 ciate and confirm the fidelity of its statements so entirely as 
 yourself. 
 
 But, above all, an intimate friendship, rendered (to my 
 feelings) almost sacred by the extent of its period from youth 
 to age, inspires my earnest wish to dedicate the last of my 
 literary efforts to One who has cheered my path and comforted 
 my toil, throughout every concomitant vicissitude and anxiety. 
 
 It is but a faint expression of the faithful attachment and 
 affectionate regard, with which I am, 
 
 My dear, excellent friend, 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 W. JERDAN. 
 
 Bushey Heath, April 16, 1866. 
 
PBEFACE. 
 
 A FEW words of preliminary explanation may be 
 necessary towards placing this work in its 
 proper light. It is simply a genuine reminiscence 
 of peculiar or personal traits which marked the 
 characters described, and illustrated their connection 
 with the social and intellectual movements of their 
 period. It may, at the first glance, appear somewhat 
 egotistic, but its very nature precluded the use of 
 any other style, and its Author hopes he has neither 
 transgressed the rules of propriety nor laid himself 
 open to the charge of weak vanity. The literal fact 
 is, that during many years of a life occupied with 
 duties on the periodical press, he was, inter alia, for 
 a considerable time editor of a daily newspaper 
 adhering to the Government of the day, and in that 
 capacity made a number of eminent political friends ; 
 and that afterwards, in a similar position, on an 
 influential and popular weekly literary publication, 
 which he conducted for the third part of a century, 
 he enjoyed opportunities of close and confidential 
 intercourse with the leading scientific and literary 
 minds of the time, which have furnished the mate- 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 rials for his last faithful record — in fact, from 1810 to 
 1850, lie lived and took an active part in a focus of 
 very general intelligence. Thus, without presump- 
 tion on his part, he would account for the terms of 
 intimacy, more or less, on which he lived with the 
 foremost men of his busy time, and the tone in which 
 he speaks of them. 
 
 It should be stated that the sketches contained in 
 this volume are reprinted, by permission of the pro- 
 prietors of the " Leisure Hour," from the pages of 
 that excellent publication, in which they appeared 
 at intervals during several years. On revising them, 
 however, it was thought that some congenial addi- 
 tional matter, which had since become available, 
 could be advantageously recalled to memory, and 
 this has accordingly been appended under the head 
 of Addenda to the original papers. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE EARL OF ABERDEEN 
 THE REV. RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM 
 THE REV. W. LISLE BOWLES 
 JOHN BRITTON 
 
 SIR MARK ISAMBARD BRUNEL 
 DEAN BUCKLAND 
 WILLIAM BULLOCK, F.L.S. 
 BISHOP BURGESS 
 THOMAS CAMPBELL 
 GEORGE CANNING 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY 
 v SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE 
 CAPTAIN CROZIER 
 THOMAS CUBITT 
 LORD DE TABLEY 
 CHARLES DIBDIN 
 REV. T. FROGNALL DIBDIN, D.D. 
 ISAAC, THE ELDER D'lSRAELI 
 
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Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 francis douce ... ... . ... Page 183 
 
 MOUNTSTUART ELPHINSTONE ... ... ... ... 188 
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR ELDON ... ... 192 
 
 EDWARD FORBES 
 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN 
 
 JOHN GALT 
 WILLIAM GIFFORD 
 HENRY HALLAM 
 
 ... 198 
 
 ... 220 
 
 ... 229 
 
 ... 237 
 
 ... 243 
 
 JAMES HOGG, THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD ... ... 248 
 
 JAMES HOLMAN, THE BLIND TRAVELLER ... ... 256 
 
 WILLIAM HUSKISSON ... ... ... ... ... 268 
 
 JOSEPH JEKYLL .. ... ... ... ... 273 
 
 DR. KITCHENER ... ... ... ... ... 282 
 
 SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE ... ... ... ... 288 
 
 SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH ... ... ... ... 298 
 
 SIR JOHN MALCOLM ... ... ... ,.. ... 303 
 
 RICHARD MARTIN, OF GALWAY ... ... ... 312 
 
 ARCHDEACON NARES ... ... ... ... ... 322 
 
 JAMES PERRY ... ... ... ... ... ... 329 
 
 PINNOCK AND MAUNDER ... ... ... ... 336 
 
 RICHARD PORSON ... ... ... ... ... 348 
 
 LORD RIPON ... ... ... ... ... ... 356 
 
 DAVID ROBERTS, R.A. ... ... ... ... ... 3Q3 
 
 SAMUEL ROGERS ... ... ... ... ... 375 
 
 SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS ... ... ... ... 381 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT 
 
 RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN 
 | ROBERT SOUTHEY 
 
 JOHN TROTTER 
 
 LORD TRURO 
 
 SHARON TURNER 
 
 SIR DAVID WILKIE 
 
 LORD WILLOUGHBY DE ERESBY 
 
 LADY WILLOUGHBY 
 ^ WILLIAM WORDSWORTH 
 
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 POSTSCRIPT 
 AUTOGRAPHS 
 
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THE EARL OF ABERDEEN. 
 
 LORD ABERDEEN belongs to history, and history will 
 do him justice. This much at the outset I may say, 
 that his is a name which will shine brighter as time advances. 
 How he came to be less exalted in his lifetime offers a 
 problem only to be partially solved by reference to his par- 
 ticularly reticent character and habits. Scholars far below 
 him in endowments, and politicians every way his inferiors 
 in statesmanship, filled loudly the popular ear, and loomed 
 large in the public eye ; whilst the many voices of opinion 
 were silent upon the refined learning, the elegant accom- 
 plishments, and the commanding abilities and important 
 national services, of the Earl of Aberdeen. As to how this 
 eclipse happened, I profess to give an explanation — simple, 
 but I believe correct. Lord Aberdeen was that rare character 
 — and more rare in such a station, with (it is impossible to 
 doubt) a consciousness of superior talent — a modest man. 
 Retiring and diffident, quiet and unassuming, noble as a man 
 and virtuous as a minister, estimable alike in private and in 
 public life, he never put forward his own merits, nor allowed 
 them to be proclaimed by admiring friends or adherents. 
 Thus, he was understood only by the few and well-informed, 
 whilst by the multitude and their ignorant leaders his 
 patriotic labours were misrepresented and his great diplo- 
 matic achievements undervalued. His natural unobtrusive- 
 ness was called shyness (which, indeed, it partly was), and 
 
 B 
 
2 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 his shyness was ascribed to pride. He took no pains to 
 correct the error, but held on the even tenor of his way — a 
 lofty path, having only the welfare of his country in view — 
 and eschewing alike the turmoil of popularity-hunting and 
 the troubles of party strife. 
 
 I do not meddle with politics in these personal recollec- 
 tions ; but a sketch of a prime minister can hardly avoid 
 some allusion to his policy in that pre-eminent position. We 
 must, in this instance, look to his antecedents, when, in 
 1813-14-15, as the British Ambassador at Vienna, his ad 
 mirable penetration, skill, and energy conquered every 
 difficulty ; won Austria to the common cause ; detached 
 Murat, at Naples, from his potent friend ; and contributed 
 mainly and ultimately to that settlement of Europe which 
 lasted forty years. His intercourse with the Emperor 
 Nicholas seemed to have inspired him with a confidence in 
 that monarch which was undeserved. Nicholas certainly 
 changed much in his latter years, and Lord Aberdeen may 
 have trusted to his knowledge of him in better days. Trust 
 in the Emperor's honour, and a wise love of peace, cherished 
 in effect by his reliance on the pacific professions of Russia, 
 induced the memorable definition of a policy in a single 
 word, that of having been " drifted " into war. I may re- 
 mark that the noble Foreign Secretary himself, Lord 
 Clarendon, who first used the expression, in spite of the 
 views upheld in his masterly despatches and state papers, 
 could not help drifting with the rest of the ship's company, 
 and being, perhaps the most unjustly of all, made a sacrifice 
 to the Machiavellian device of a treacherously-excited and 
 iniquitously-aggravated popular outcry. In due time he, 
 like Lord Aberdeen, was removed out of the way of plotting 
 ambition — made the scapegoat for measures not only unani- 
 mously sanctioned by the Cabinet, but approved by the 
 Conservative opposition. History will also rectify this great 
 wrong, and replace Lord Clarendon, in the estimation of 
 posterity, in the same elevated position he held with his 
 
THE EARL OF ABERDEEN. O 
 
 contemporaries before this crafty intrigue effected its aim, 
 and he was universally considered to rank with the foremost 
 of British statesmen. To return, however, more directly to 
 Lord Aberdeen — a premier object to be pulled down and 
 supplanted — the perusal of Mr. Kinglake's able work has 
 confirmed me more pointedly in the question I was about to 
 raise, and I will therefore set it down with less reservation. 
 "Whether or not he was mistaken — whether peace might 
 have attained all our objects, and war been avoided, I know 
 not ; but of this I am sure, that we were exceedingly 
 ill-provided for entering into hostilities, and that the de- 
 plorable war cost the nation torrents of its dearest blood, 
 and led to results which no politician can contemplate with 
 unmixed satisfaction. 
 
 Lord Aberdeen, however, stands unquestionably higher 
 in those earlier negotiations, where there can be no doubt 
 or difference of opinion. Independently of all other, and 
 unanimous testimony, we have only to read the Londonderry 
 papers and official documents to be convinced that he played 
 the grand essential part in the negotiations on which hung 
 the destinies of the living generation of men ; for the able 
 editor of that work, while engaged in exalting the fame of 
 other personages of his own family also distinguished in 
 the conflict ending with the fall of Napoleon, could not 
 fail to throw a lustre over the name of George Gordon, 
 Earl of Aberdeen. 
 
 "With regard to the earlier portion of his political life, it 
 should be remembered that it passed through a period of 
 extraordinary transition ; that the Tory party to which he 
 belonged, consisted of two grades — the alarmed, or ultra, 
 and the more moderate and conciliatory ; and, consequently, 
 when we observed some of them, hostile to far-seeing 
 Canning, afterwards going beyond his loyal liberality, and 
 yielding to pressure more than he voluntarily offered, we 
 could only ascribe it as an excuse for their change, that cir- 
 cumstances had become too strong for their cherished ideas, 
 
 B 2 
 
4 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 and, as is always the case, they were compelled to stop the 
 mouth of demand with greater concessions than would have 
 satisfied the original appetite for experimental policy. In 
 the end, Lord Aberdeen, when he did yield, yielded grace- 
 fully, and enjoyed, to the end of his high career, a full share 
 of the popularity which awaits the reclamation of converted 
 statesmen. "Tempora mutantur ! "— the proverb (though 
 undeniably universal) is somewhat musty. 
 
 I gladly turn, however, from this requisite episode, to 
 speak of the noble Earl as he steered his grateful course over 
 less vexed and stormy seas. In him the world had evident 
 " assurance of a man," and, what is yet a higher model for 
 humanity, a perfect gentleman. And how much is involved 
 in this brief phrase ! Not simply the suavity implied by it, 
 but high attainments, superior intelligence, a gracious nature, 
 and true nobility of soul. Of all the men I have known, I 
 never knew one more deserving of the title, without excep- 
 tion, tban Lord Aberdeen. 
 
 " Hail, travell'd thane, Athenian Aberdeen ! " 
 
 is a brief, but lasting record, by another famed Gordon 
 (Byron), of the literary tastes and scholarly accomplishments 
 of the noble Earl. That he was an ardent admirer and 
 zealous student of the classic beauties bequeathed to us in 
 the delicious language of Greece, was noted by a local habi- 
 tation and a name — the foundation, when barely of age, of 
 the Athenian Society Club, eligibility to be a member of 
 which required that the candidate should have visited 
 Athens. 
 
 But in all that belonged to literature and the fine arts, 
 he was not only himself a largely-gifted proficient and 
 a refined judge, but he carried his love of both into the 
 action of his daily life. Elected President of the Royal 
 Society of Antiquaries, his enlightened mind adorned the 
 station, and few critics could be found who better understood 
 
THE EARL OF ABERDEEN. 5 
 
 the value of matters brought forward for discussion, or more 
 certainly distinguish the frivolous or fabulous from the ster- 
 ling and intrinsic of archaeological " discoveries." He occu- 
 pied the chair with discretion and dignity, and was always 
 easy of access when occasion needed, without (as I have 
 noticed) courting favour by popular flatteries. Indeed, he 
 shrank from such means of ingratiating himself — 
 
 " To cozen fortune, and be honourable, 
 Without the mark of merit." 
 
 He strove assiduously and manfully to deserve, and if his 
 desert was acknowledged, he could not be otherwise than 
 gratified ; but if circumstances prevented the recognition — 
 if blindness, or cavil, or misrepresentation intervened — it 
 failed to disturb his philosophic equanimity ; and not only 
 did he never resent the injustice, but (and it conveys a 
 lesson to all statesmen who can depend upon themselves, 
 and regard not the " idle wind " that blows past them) he 
 never condescended to vindicate his own share in the 
 measures which his patriotism adopted as the best for his 
 country. 
 
 His publications are of the highest classic order ; but his 
 conversation was simplicity itself. The richly enlightened 
 mind shone through the whole — to listen was a supreme 
 pleasure, where the subject was worthy, and called forth his 
 opinions ; and these opinions were so free from dictation, so 
 easy, clear, and persuasive, that I can remember nothing 
 more gratifying than to yield at once to their happily illus- 
 trative and convincing cogency. An early patron of Ike 
 Royal Geographical Society, he thus gave good reasons ior 
 the grant of five hundred pounds in aid of its spirited exer- 
 tions ; and the success of the institution proves that the 
 prestige was wisely directed. 
 
 His dislike to the seeking of public notice and approba- 
 tion rendered Ms appearance very rare on any of the various 
 
6 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 occasions when princes, statesmen, or other distinguished 
 persons are not averse to exhibition on the platform. Public 
 meetings, addresses to mechanics' institutes and other popular 
 bodies, opening of great railways, laying the foundations of 
 important buildings, did not harmonize with his manner and 
 habits, and were therefore avoided, and left open to contem- 
 poraries more desirous of the display, and more ambitious of 
 the honours. I can recollect only one exarnj>le of his pre- 
 siding over a notable festive entertainment, viz., a dinner 
 in " Freemasons' Hall," in aid of the subscription for 
 completing the monument over the grave of Bums, at 
 Dumfries. The Eai-1 of Aberdeen, to be sure, was a Scotch- 
 man, and Burns is a name which always stirs the enthusiasm 
 of Scotchmen. 
 
 There is this to be said truly, that in whatever other 
 elements there are poetic names higher than that of Burns, 
 there is not one to be compared with him for intense and 
 fervent patriotism ; and it was through this dominant spirit 
 that he identified himself with the feelings of Scotland, 
 and made himself their rej>resentative. Every countryman 
 acknowledges him, — the humorous for his playfulness or 
 satire ; the susceptible for his sweetness and pathos ; the 
 lover of nature for his touching naturalness ; and the 
 patriotic for his devoted attachment to the land of the moun- 
 tain and the flood — land of their sires ! At this festival 
 (1816) Lord Aberdeen consented to preside, in consequence 
 of an unexpected disappointment of the (then) Duke of 
 Buccleuch, and performed all the duties of the chair to the 
 delight of the company and the solid benefit of the fund, 
 to which upwards of three hundred pounds were subscribed. 
 Campbell wrote a charming ode for the meeting, which was 
 finely recited by Augustus Conway. Wilkie was toasted, 
 and returned appropriate thanks ; and, above all, a youthful 
 son of the poet, who was seated quietly at the lower end of 
 the room, was brought forward and made known to Mr. 
 Charles Grant (Lord Glenelg), on the right hand of the 
 
THE EARL OF ABERDEEN. 7 
 
 president, from whom in the course of a few weeks he re- 
 ceived an Indian cadetship, the foundation of his own and 
 his brother's prosperity in the uncertain walk of life, and 
 their happy return home as honoured field officers ! Great 
 doors often turn on small hinges. The immortal Burns, as 
 the chairman observed in his touching speech, had "a hard 
 fate while living, and was not sufficiently valued when 
 among us ; this was our reproach, and we owed his memory 
 a long arrear of admiration." It seemed to be only 
 expended upon his tomb. Yet here, by apparently a mere 
 accident, a fortunate provision was secured for his family, 
 the second son having been enabled to follow his brother 
 to the East. 
 
 To Lord Aberdeen's excellent public qualities, I shall only 
 add one illustration more. From the character I have so 
 faintly sketched, it might naturally be predicated that, being 
 no pushing aspirant for place, no solicitous candidate for 
 passing eclat, he neither courted party nor engaged in 
 intrigue for the sake of elevation to office ; and, when in 
 power, never corrupted patronage to political jobs, which 
 ministers in closely-balanced and critical times are too apt 
 to do. His always pacific policy, and the cordial union 
 he effected with France (the climax of his aim, after having 
 contributed so much to the reorganization of Europe, and the 
 settlement of the American Oregon pretension), are the solid 
 grounds on which posterity will estimate the vast importance 
 of his national services. And, more still, he was to the 
 utmost letter a pure and honest servant of the Crown, a 
 true lover of his country, and an honest minister. In the 
 Colonial and Foreign Offices, as in all his difficult diplomatic 
 employment, his guidance was of the utmost value ; and, if 
 we look around at the affairs of the State for a long, long 
 season, we must acknowledge that he stands conspicuous for 
 lofty integrity in the discharge of the high functions of the 
 chief of England's Government. Of his nepotism, not a 
 whisper was ever heard or uttered. It is a delicate thing 
 
8 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 to allude to ; but the Earl of Aberdeen, as Premier of the 
 British empire, with a multitude of rich gifts to bestow, 
 hardly countenanced his family in advancing their interests 
 on the paths where they were making their own way ; and 
 I may state, in further proof, that he had one son, exem- 
 plary as a clergyman, who was never spoken of for a 
 bishopric or any church preferment, but remained simply 
 incumbent of the village of Stanmore, where his virtuous 
 and honoured father lies buried.* 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 I have very little to add to this memoir. I have been 
 much gratified by having it cordially approved as just and 
 true by men of the highest rank among living statesmen of 
 all political opinions, and by a number of admiring friends 
 who enjoyed the happy fortune of communion with Lord 
 Aberdeen in the intercourse of social and private life. In 
 classic literature and the fine arts, his taste was cultivated 
 to the highest pitch — in all he was at home, a most accom- 
 plished judge and master. His conversation, coupled with 
 a quiet simplicity of manners and persuasive tone of voice, 
 was, consequently, instructive and delightful. You came 
 away from it, wondering that what seemed so easy should 
 have impressed itself with so much force ; it was as if whis- 
 pering could reach the sense with the sound of trumpets. 
 
 * The mansion in which the illustrious statesman resided in Argyll 
 Street was unpretending like its owner, and was illumined not by- 
 show but by intellect. It is now being fitted up for a splendid and 
 noisy railway-station hotel. 
 
THE EARL OF ABERDEEN. 9 
 
 Of the Burns Commemoration, to 
 
 " Strew garlands round 
 The holy ground," 
 
 where Scotland's dearest minstrel is laid at rest, if not lite- 
 rally, as Motherwell sang, yet in the form of an abiding 
 structure, designed by Mr. Thomas Hunt, and a statue of 
 the illustrious ploughman, by Turnerelli, I may add a few 
 lines, though I have written on the subject before. I believe 
 that Lord Palmerston* was the last survivor of the long list 
 of stewards (many of distinguished names), and that Lord 
 Glenelg and myself alone live, to look back with deep emo- 
 tion on the association and proceedings of that day. The 
 feeling manner in which Lord Aberdeen filled the chair, and 
 appealed to the memory of Burns to evoke the aid needful 
 for the completion of his tomb, was at once calmly just and 
 impressively effective. "As Scotchmen" (he addressed the 
 assembled company), " we may well be vain of his talent and 
 his name ; for his genius was truly national. Scotland may 
 exult in having given him birth, for he might almost be said 
 to have sprung from her very soil ! But while, as Scotch- 
 men, we are justly proud that it was reserved for our country 
 to give birth to such a poet, the hard fate of Burns, while 
 living, and the comparative obscurity in which he closed his 
 days, prove, I am afraid, that while among us he was not 
 sufficiently valued [What genius ever was ?], and this reflec- 
 tion turns our very pride into our reproach ! We owe to 
 his memory a long arrear of admiration. The only way in 
 which we can poorly discharge this debt is by uniting to 
 honour his tomb. This has now become the duty of his 
 friends and admirers — call it a vain and fruitless duty if you 
 will, but still it is a duty, which those who feel an interest in 
 the honour of their country, and in the powers of genius being 
 duly appreciated, will not be the less anxious to fulfil." 
 
 * His lordship did not attend the dinner. 
 
10 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Spoken with touching fervour, this patriotic and judicious, 
 I may almost say, critical appeal, was answered by a sub- 
 scription amounting to between three and four hundred 
 pounds ; and I humbly presume to think that no enthu- 
 siastic rhapsody, so usual on such occasions, could have 
 produced so gratifying a result. I am tempted to add the 
 two concluding stanzas of Campbell's stirring ode : — 
 
 " Farewell, high chief of Scottish song, 
 That couldst alternately impart 
 Wisdom and rapture in thy page, 
 And brand each vice with satire strong, 
 Whose lines are mottoes of the heart, 
 Whose truths electrify the age. 
 
 Farewell, and ne'er may Envy dare 
 To wring one baleful poison-drop 
 From the crush'd laurels of thy bust ; 
 But while the lairk sings sweet in air, 
 Still may the grateful pilgrim stop, 
 To bless the spot that holds thy dust." 
 
 In an eloquent speech, Mr. Grant (Lord Glenelg) paid an 
 enthusiastic tribute to the genius of Burns, and pronounced 
 a warmly-applauded eulogy upon the high classic accomplish- 
 ments of the president, whose health he proposed ; and his 
 lordship, in returning thanks, admirably expressed his ear- 
 nest feeling for the welfare in every respect, and especially 
 where connected with the literature, of his native land. The 
 object in view was effected. Alas ! fifty years have left 
 almost a vacant number to remember the patriotic and 
 genial enjoyment of that far-distant day; but half a cen- 
 tury is an awful vista — a little farther, and there can be 
 none ! God's will be done. 
 
( 11 ) 
 
 RICHARD HARRIS BAEHAM. 
 
 THE author of " The Ingoldsby Legends of Mirth and 
 Marvels " holds a prominent place among the memo- 
 ries of the Men I have Known ; and the shadow of his 
 departure falls yet heavily upon my spirit. He was re- 
 markable for the elements mixed up in his composition. 
 They were, as a whole, in perfect harmony ; yet, when 
 viewed in parts, often seemed to be connected by the slight- 
 est possible links, and apparently moved by no common 
 springs whatever. Thus his very playfulness was so sincere 
 that jocular reproofs from his lips were often the essence of 
 oracular wisdom, and not seldom wrought more good than 
 if they had been administered in a graver manner. In 
 more important affairs he was largely tolerant ; but it was 
 not that sort of toleration now so widely spread, which 
 masks the visage of indifference. The outpourings of his 
 levity, if so humorous a vein could be so denominated, 
 were mainly directed to the exposure of Romish frauds, and 
 the subversion of Romish superstition. Against these his 
 Protestant faith maintained an earnest hostility ; and if he 
 warred against them with the shafts of ridicule, his destruc- 
 tive inroads were at least in effective alliance with the 
 action of the more regular force, fighting in the panoply of 
 grave and learned argument. Throughout his entire pro- 
 ductions, whether treating miscellaneous themes or buffet- 
 ing religious error, he never fails to inculcate the most 
 laudable social principles, though he deemed it expedient 
 
12 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 to offer a kind of apology to those who might imagine his 
 verse occasionally too flippant or free : — 
 
 " For if rather too gay, 
 I can venture to say, 
 A fine vein of morality is, in each lay 
 Of my primitive muse, the distinguishing trait." 
 
 The gravest and most serious of readers, and thinkers 
 will, I doubt not, coincide with me in holding that no 
 excuse was needed for the style which covered so powerful 
 an array of sound judgment and penetrating truth. It may 
 be well to recall the pungency with which he assailed and 
 the irony with which he attacked the superstitious cere- 
 monials of a church which he held to be supported by 
 imposture and sensuous rites. In his judgment all was 
 artificial, ostentatious, and cunningly devised to subjugate 
 the human mind under the slavish yoke of an audacious 
 conspiracy. 
 
 " Saint Medard was a holy man, 
 A holy man, I ween, was he ; 
 And even by day 
 When he went to pray, 
 He would light up a candle that all might see." 
 
 What a happy turn to one of the chief sources of the 
 troubles in Knightsbridge, and the greater scandals of St. 
 George's in the East ! ~No weapon employed by parish 
 authorities on behalf of irritated congregations, could touch 
 the evil more efficaciously than this home-thrust of sar- 
 casm — " that all might see." 
 
 Still stronger expressions of the author's contempt for 
 idolatrous rites is found in the ludicrous " Legend of St. 
 Genulphus." Wisdom and fun seem to be most fitly allied 
 in attacking such preposterous follies as the legendary mira- 
 cles of pretended saints, whose idle tales were fomented only 
 to " bring grist to the mill." But Barham's graver mood 
 
RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. 13 
 
 was not applied to this class of subjects. Therefore, with 
 only one example more, I will try to illustrate his simply 
 sportive manner. It is the fixing of a date to the " Old 
 "Woman in Grey." The writer was diligently schooled, and 
 indeed a devoted investigator of our national relics in 
 archaeology, as well as an acute expositor of the ancient 
 priestly deceptions exhumed by his research, and was thus 
 very competent for a task of so much consequence, ex. gr. — 
 
 " All that one knows is, 
 It must have preceded the wars of the Eoses ; 
 
 Inasmuch as the times 
 
 Described in these rhymes, 
 Were as fruitful in Virtues as ours are in crimes. 
 
 And if 'mongst the Laity, 
 
 Unseemly gaiety 
 Sometimes betray'd an occasional taint or two; 
 
 At once all the Clerics 
 
 Went into hysterics, 
 While scarcely a convent but boasted a Saint or two ; 
 So it must have been long ere the time of the Tudors, 
 
 As since then the breed 
 
 Of saint rarely indeed 
 With their dignified presence have darken'd our pew doors." 
 
 But, as I have noted, in the midst of all the raillery upon 
 pseudo-saintship, holding up the monstrous forms of the 
 Dunstans, Nicholases, Odilles, and similar pretenders to 
 sanctity and supernatural power, while they carried forward 
 the business of ambition, or perhaps the vilest worldly 
 schemes : in the midst of all the scoffing and indignation 
 heaped upon these crafty delusions, there are seen little 
 gems of poetry which manifest the inmost nature of the 
 satirist, whose shafts are so piercing against evil, but whose 
 disposition is full of kindness and human sympathies. It 
 is true that such freaks as those of manufacturing Japan 
 martyrs to be received into the brotherhood and sisterhood 
 
14 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 of Saints would have provoked his caustic song ; but there 
 would have been a useful and benevolent lesson with the 
 grotesque garniture. Most readers will remember the 
 poem of Lord Tomnoddy going to witness an execution at 
 Newgate. The description is most whimsical and charac- 
 teristic ; but the sadness of the subject touches the heart of 
 the poet more nearly than his purposed reproof of frivolous 
 fashion and degrading taste ; and he breaks off from the 
 disgraceful picture, clever and satirical as it is, to fall, by 
 a natural revulsion of his own genuine feeling, into the 
 pathetic, in a style equally beautiful, picturesque, and 
 affecting : — 
 
 " Sweetly, oh ! sweetly the morning breaks 
 With roseate streaks, 
 Like the first faint blush on a maiden's cheeks ; 
 Seem'd as that mild and clear blue sky 
 Smiled upon all things far and nigh, 
 On all — save the wretch condemn'd to die. 
 Alas! 
 
 And hark ! a sound comes big with fate ; 
 
 The clock from St. Sepulchre's tower strikes — Eight ! 
 
 List to that low funereal bell ; 
 
 It is tolling, alas ! a living man's knell ! 
 
 And see from forth that opening door 
 
 They come — he steps that threshold o'er, 
 
 Who never shall tread upon threshold more ! 
 
 Alas ! 'tis a fearsome sight to see 
 
 That pale, wan man's mute agony — 
 
 The glare of that wild, despairing eye, 
 
 Now bent on the crowd, now turn'd to the eky ; 
 
 As though it were scanning, in doubt and fear, 
 
 The fate of the spirit's unknown career. 
 
 Those pinion'd arms— those hands that ne'er 
 
 Shall be lifted again — not even in prayer ! 
 
 That heaving chest. Enough — 'tis done ; 
 
 The bolt has fallen ! the spirit is gone, 
 
 For weal or for woe is known but to One. 
 
 # * # Oh, 'twas a fearsome sight ! Ah, me 
 
 A sight to shudder at — not to see." 
 
RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. 15 
 
 Life is composed of smiles and tears, and it may be that 
 their occurrence in close juxtaposition can impart a more 
 striking effect to either, and that, observing this result, the 
 talent of the orator and poet is often displayed in the skil- 
 ful ajiplication of contrast ; but be this as it may, it has 
 never consisted with my experience, to meet with a more 
 natural, more touching, or more powerful example of this 
 beauty than in the lines just quoted — a fervid apostrophe 
 rising out of the vicious vagaries of such amateurs of capital 
 punishment as the Tomnoddies and lower rabble, who are 
 prone to indulge in the witnessing of these horrors. 
 
 In the few quotations I have made, and still more in the 
 "Jackdaw of Rheims " and the "Witches' Frolic," the 
 critical reader must have observed Mr. Barham's mastery 
 of the English language, and extraordinary facility in every 
 species of poetical composition. His ear for the music of 
 rhythm was perfect. In the latter he displayed curious 
 original powers, adding piquancy to ideas quite sufficient in 
 themselves to excite admiration. And another remarkable 
 feature was the readiness and fertility with which he used 
 the familiar topics of the day to illustrate and point the 
 old stories extorted from moth-eaten legendary lore. In 
 this peculiarity I am not aware that he has ever had an 
 equal ; nor could one be easily found. For he was learned 
 with Bishop Copleston, humorous with Sydney Smith, 
 jocular with Theodore Hook, facetious with Edward Can- 
 non of the Royal Chapel,* and genial and conciliatory with 
 
 * Cannon was as quaint and eccentric a being as I ever saw. His 
 oddities were so entertaining, his wit so sharp, and his bearing alto- 
 gether so singular, that even the Prince Eegent put up with his 
 humours. The rough, surly Lord Thurlow rejoiced in his company ; 
 and he was courted for his society by leading men in church and 
 state. He was a fine musician and an accomplished scholar — in a 
 singular degree resembling Dean Swift ; but towards the close, the 
 repetition of absurdities overlapped the attractions of genius, and poor 
 Cannon dwindled into insignificance — his earlier friends all gone. 
 
16 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 all with whom he associated, in every class, from the wearer 
 of the mitre or coronet to the equal or inferior grades of 
 every-day and common life intercourse. He was indeed 
 not more remarkable for his literary talent than estimable 
 for his unruffled kindliness, friendly benevolence, and love 
 of harmony and peace. Yet, with all these estimable and 
 pacific elements, had he been a soldier instead of a clergy- 
 man, he could not have presented a more maimed and muti- 
 lated candidate for the consideration of the Horse Guards. 
 A native of Canterbury (fruitful, by the by, in distinguished 
 men of the present century), at the age of five or six years 
 he inherited from his father the property of Sappington and 
 the old manor-house, which figure so conspicuously in 
 several of his compositions. Even in boyhood, his casual 
 and unfortunate accidents began. He was upset in the 
 Dover mail, and shattered his right arm so that it could 
 never be very useful again. Later in life he was overturned 
 in a gig, which broke one leg and sprained the other, so as 
 to aggravate his crippled condition ; and by some other 
 mischance, one of his eyes was seriously affected. It was 
 probably a consequence of the first of these injuries which 
 led to his relinquishment of a career that required active 
 physical powers, and the choice of the Church as a profes- 
 sion, as it was unquestionably the result of all that turned 
 him into the field of literature. He was educated at St. 
 Paul's School, where he was contemporary, inter alios, with 
 Bentley the publisher, Sir C. Clarke, and Sir Frederick 
 Pollock. Mrs. Roberts (the wife of the head master) kindly 
 nursed him when laid up with his crushed arm, and it was 
 then that he first attempted poetry, which he cultivated 
 more sedulously at Brazenose College. Here he was the 
 companion of Lord Nugent, and (during his terms) of 
 Theodore Hook, who declined, in the buoyancy of early and 
 precocious genius, to curb his vivacity within the rules of 
 scholastic discipline, and who was still less inclined to sub- 
 mit to theological training. To Hook, from that day to his 
 
RICHARD HARRIS BARHA3I. 17 
 
 death, Barham was ever the most faithful adviser and the 
 warmest friend. I have known many cases in which his 
 interference or arbitrament was productive of the most 
 beneficial results to every one concerned : his peace-making 
 was pre-eminently successful, for his mind was just, and his 
 judgment cool, and his voice persuasive. Whilst he felt for 
 the wronged, he could make needful allowance for the 
 wrong-doer ; his construction towards both was tempered 
 with mercy ; it was his province to declare the truth, to 
 direct the right way, and to reconcile mistaken opinions 
 or angry passions with mutual forbearance and the golden 
 rule. I dwell the more upon this, because it was a very 
 prominent and estimable feature in his life and character ; 
 his great human merit was goodness, and performing kindly 
 actions his delight. 
 
 As I am not here a systematic biographer, I shall say 
 nothing of his auspicious marriage with a lady worthy of 
 him, or of his clerical preferments, which were moderately 
 lucrative and honourable. Nor of his literature shall I add 
 more than that it was when laid up with his second severe 
 accident that he wrote ' ' Baldwin," a novel, which produced 
 him .£20, and the promise of certain publishers' future 
 advantages, which Hook wittily designated as " contingen- 
 cies that never happen." " Cousin Nicholas " was more 
 successful at a later day. This class of writing was not his 
 forte. As leisure and inclination prompted, he contributed 
 many miscellaneous and attractive papers to " Blackwood's 
 Magazine," the " Literary Gazette," " Bentley's Miscellany," 
 " The Globe " and " John Bull " newspapers, and other 
 periodicals. His principal work, however, was for Gorton's 
 " Biographical Dictionary," to which, it is stated, he sup- 
 plied a third portion of the contents. His life has been 
 modestly and affectionately written by his son. 
 
 His school intimacy with Mr. Bentley made him the 
 warm and efficient coadjutor, with the first of his Legends, 
 in the establishment of the Miscellany to which the pub- 
 
18 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 lisher affixed his own name in 1837 ; he survived thai 
 friendly aid only eight years, dying at the age of fifty-seven, 
 in 1845. 
 
 Of all his writings, as of all his conduct, I may affirm, 
 that in his liveliest moods he never transgressed the limits* 
 of decent mirth (I speak of him merely as a man of letters) ; 
 that his kindness of heart was constant and inexhaustible ; 
 that he was closely allied to every humanity. I, and all 
 who knew him, deeply lamented his premature loss, in the 
 full vigour of faculties which never faded to the end ; near 
 which he penned some mournfully applicable lines, which 
 only added to our melancholy and regret. I leave them, 
 however, to conclude with another extract from his 
 writings, pathetically written on the occasion of a similar 
 sorrow : — 
 
 " And thus 'twill be — nor long the day, 
 Ere we, like him, shall pass away. 
 Yon sun, that now our bosom warms, 
 Shall shine, but shine on other forms ; 
 Ton grove, whose choir so sweetly cheers 
 Us now, shall sound to other ears ; 
 The joyous lamb as now shall play, 
 But other eyes its sports surrey ; 
 The stream we loved shall roll as fair, 
 The flowery sweets, the trim parterre, 
 Shall scent as now the ambient air ; 
 The tree whose bending branches bear 
 The one loved name, shall yet be there, 
 But where the hand that carved it — Where ? " 
 
 * My MS. reads, "limits of becoming mirth — of mirth becoming 
 in a preacher of the Gospel," such being my own opinion of humor- 
 ists like Sydney Smith or Ingoldsby. 
 
RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. 19 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Refraining from any remark on the subject which was 
 Ingoldsby's persevering literary labour to expose in its 
 folly and deformity, I have only to offer a few character- 
 istic traits of a different kind — traits connected with his 
 genial disposition and passage through social life. First, so 
 truly was he appreciated, that he was often sought as a 
 referee to compose strifes and settle disputes. I knew in- 
 stances, some of the most delicate nature and others of con- 
 flict (such as may occur in family affairs, and such as do 
 occur among authors and publishers) ; and in all he was 
 the surest of peace-makers. His genial disposition, his per- 
 suasive manner, his soothing toleration, and his sound sense 
 and knowledge of mankind, enabled him to accomplish suc- 
 cess, where, at the outset, all appeared to be hopeless and 
 insurmountable. In this way it was his pleasure to take 
 pains, and his delight to do good. 
 
 In his lighter moods it was, indeed, a treat to catch him 
 on some quiet walk, and see him pull from his pouch the 
 diminutive memorandum-book, about the size of half the 
 palm of his hand, and jot down — what was it 1 the sprightly 
 idea of the moment, or some of those quaintest of rhymes 
 with which his compositions are so plenteously sprinkled ; 
 for his talent over the English tongue, and his musical 
 mastery of it, tended equally to the charm of his versifica- 
 tion. Nowhere else can I meet with burlesque so melo- 
 dious. 
 
 He entertained a high opinion of the public benefit 
 which might be reaped from the Drama, and his critical 
 taste and judgment on dramatic productions, for the closet 
 or the stage, were of the foremost order. It was therefore 
 not inappropriate to meet him as one of the founders of the 
 Garrick Club, and for many years one of its most active 
 and distinguished members. Dulce est desipere in loco, and 
 c 2 
 
20 MEN I HATE KNOWN. 
 
 many a scene of merry sportiveness was enacted among the 
 original phalanx, who chiefly formed and animated the 
 Society — and some of whom were well-known and highly- 
 prized favourites with the outer world. When a first 
 anniversary arrived, an Ingoldsby might extemporize and 
 hand to a singer such a song as this : — 
 
 " Let poets of superior parts 
 Consign to deathless fame 
 The larcenies of the knave of hearts, 
 Who robb'd his royal dame. 
 The honest Muse 
 Such themes eschews, 
 Disdains all knavish cubs, 
 And hails to-day, 
 With joyous lay, 
 Thy birth, fair Queen of Clubs ! 
 Salve Eegina, 
 Esto perpetua. 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 Illustrious Queen of Clubs ! " 
 
 The creator of Lord Tomnoddy, the prototype of 
 Leech's admirable pictorial, and Lord Dundreary's mimic 
 realization, could well afford to enjoy without reproach the 
 company of those who held it no offence to permit the 
 philosophy of Democritus to reign for a due season, and the 
 harmless laugh to be raised, occasionally it might be, at the 
 expense of exuberant drollery. I remember one instance, 
 in which an extravagant excess wrought to the climax, " to 
 gild refined gold, to paint the lily, and (as recited) to throw 
 a perfume over Rowland's Macassar oil." 
 
 Mr. L * * * * y was an amiable and intelligent gentle- 
 man, but of such extreme simplicity and readiness of belief 
 that it could hardly be believed how strangely he could be 
 played upon, or how the common sense, in which he was 
 not deficient, could even for a minute be mystified by the 
 apparent earnestness of any waggish experiment upon his 
 
RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM. 21 
 
 credulity. One day a debate was got up " for Lis enter- 
 tainment," on a reading of Shakespeare : — 
 
 " When, the hurly-burly 's done, 
 Then the battle 's lost and won." 
 
 This I think Ingoldsby professed to expound as having 
 some reference to the great minister of Elizabeth, in whose 
 reign the play was written. It was, he observed, a com- 
 pliment to that eminent statesman, to suppose that he 
 would permit no important action to take place without his 
 allowance and direction : thus the true reading was : — . 
 
 " When the Earl of Burleigh 's done, 
 Then the battle 's lost and won." 
 
 Of course this dictum was controverted as nonsense, and 
 it was suggested by Hook (I think), as the more sensible 
 text, that, as the fight was probably begun in the morning, 
 and soldiers were in the habit of fortifying their courage 
 with a dram before rushing on the enemy, the words might 
 be:— 
 
 " When the early purl is done, 
 Then the battle 's lost and won." 
 
 But this yet more staggered our listening friend, and he 
 put in his criticism, that Purl was a drink not invented in 
 the Elizabethan age. "Not invented then! Pooh! It 
 was old as the Pharaohs ! Did not Cleopatra speak of it, 
 when she said, ' Into this cup a Pearl I'll throw ' 1 " Poor 
 discomfited L * * * * y was " shut up." He was convinced 
 that "hurly-burly" was rather vulgar and unmeaning ; but 
 to decide between Cecil and the morning draught still per- 
 sistent in the streets of London, transcended his immediate 
 comprehension. 
 
 I am aware that, considering the precept, * lusus animo 
 debent aliquando dari" an anecdote like this may, by more 
 
22 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 serious people, be considered to be beneath the standard 
 for record, and even somewhat derogatory to literature in 
 intellectual sport. But it is not unamusing to witness 
 philosophy condescending to leap-frog or marbles, and if 
 the examples could be described in writing as vivd voce, 
 with all the taking accessories of voice, look, and action, 
 they would not fail to realize a proportion of their original 
 quality for 1 elaxation and entertainment. But no vivacity 
 or graphic talent can convey the impressions a relator 
 expects he can communicate — the mere formality of writing 
 kills the spirit of his fond endeavour, and when he risks 
 the telling of such a story as I have here told, the best he 
 can hope for is that the grave and wise may abstain from 
 pronouncing the sentence — 
 
 " Ubi multos, 
 Si non omnes, vidi stultos." 
 
 ^^ ' Z. /f2f 
 
( 23 ) 
 
 THE EEY. W. LISLE BOWLES. 
 
 NOT many years ago, there were living two poets, whose 
 works were known when Wordsworth was a youth — 
 Samuel Rogers and William Lisle Bowles — both near the 
 goodly age of fourscore years and ten. The poetry of these 
 survivors of a bygone generation was characterized by much 
 in common. Both were remarkable for pleasing and reflec- 
 tive sentiment, accompanied with great refinement of taste. 
 
 Referring lately to the works of Bowles, I was surprised 
 to find that his versification, though beautiful, was intel- 
 ligible enough to be admired by contemporary judges; 
 albeit, it did not touch that magnifying obscurity and trans- 
 cendental mysticism which signalize the most applauded of 
 our^living bards. To use a modern phrase, he was not a 
 " sensation " poet, outraging possibilities, an d shocking 
 common sense and reason. Yet had his poetry very con- 
 siderable effect upon the period to which he belonged, 
 before, and even after, Scott and Byron stormed the public 
 and caused some, who will nevertheless go down to posterity, 
 to be partially forgotten or neglected. True, Campbell had 
 sung brave ballads ; Moore chanted Irish melodies ; Words- 
 worth floated some sweet flowers among his weeds on the 
 lakes ; Southey launched several terrible epics ; and other 
 authors were springing into life — and all borrowed a leaf 
 out of Bowles' store. Coleridge, as far as I remember, was 
 
24 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the only one to acknowledge the obligation in verse, though 
 the testimonials in prose were innumerable — 
 
 " My heart has thanfe'd thee, Bowles ! for those soft strains, 
 Whose sadness soothes me, like the murmuring 
 Of wild bees in the snnny hours of spring." 
 
 This was a just tribute to the pathos which also informed 
 the poet's effusions when tender emotions and tears were 
 called for. Not unlike Cowper on many points, he was, 
 perhaps, his superior in this respect ; and although, unfor- 
 tunately, the proof is lost (probably never to be recovered), 
 I can vouch for his production of at least one humorous 
 piece that was worthy to go to futurity in company with 
 the renowned " John Gilpin." On his visits to town from 
 Wiltshire, Mr. Bowles was in the habit of lodging at a 
 bookseller's in Piccadilly ; but, on arriving one evening late 
 and unexpectedly, he found his usual accommodation fore- 
 stalled. He was consequently transferred for the night to 
 a mantuamaker's in Wigmore Street, and a comfortable 
 bed made up for him in the airy first-floor apartment, where 
 her fashionable dresses were liberally exposed to view. Was 
 it extraordinary that the Poet should have a perturbed 
 sleep 1 His weary eyelids might close, but his imagination 
 could not be laid to rest, and in the morning he embodied 
 his dreams in verse. The manuscript was given to me, and 
 I very sincerely lament has disappeared from my possession, 
 for it was as lively, animated, and amusing a production of 
 its class as I ever saw. Only think of all the different and 
 delicate articles of attire becoming instinct with life, leaping 
 from their dummies, and dancing before the captivated eyes 
 of the bewildered bard ! — of petticoats, and tuckers, and 
 jupons, and what not : none who did not, like Tarn 
 O'Shanter, see the bewitchings in action, can tell the pi- 
 rouettes and vagaries. The bewildered Bowles declared he 
 would not try to sleep in a fashionable milliner's show-room 
 
THE KEV. W. LISLE BOWLES. 25 
 
 again for the value of the richest dress that made its ap- 
 proaches to him on that eventful occasion. 
 
 The rectory-house of Bremhill was a sweet and delightful 
 spot. Nowhere could the help of the poor, or the education 
 of the young, be more religiously and sedulously attended 
 to. On a sunny summer day it looked like an Eden ; and 
 the agreeable manners and intellectual intercourse that 
 reigned within were of a description not easily to be 
 equalled. The playfulness of the rector was not its least 
 amusing feature ; and when occasionally heightened by the 
 effect of some momentary fit of abstraction, or ludicrous 
 contretemps, the cheery laugh rang loud and long in the 
 peaceful mansion of the unconscious divine : it was some- 
 times like Lord Dudley's " Thinking Aloud." 
 
 I remember, one Saturday evening, when Dr. Croly had 
 joined me in a visit to Bremhill, and had undertaken to 
 preach in the parish church on the ensuing day, our host 
 (whose own style was remarkable for its simplicity as Croly's 
 was for powerful eloquence) woke up, as it were, from a 
 dream, and addressed me : " I hope your friend will not 
 preach to the Marquis to-morrow, but to the peasantry." 
 The hint, however, was not lost, for, though the neighbour 
 Marquis and Marchioness of Lansdowne were present, the 
 preacher delivered one of the most pastoral and beautiful 
 discourses I ever heard from any pulpit, alike instructive to 
 peer and ploughman. 
 
 The vicinity of Bowood, the Marquis's seat, and latterly 
 Slopperton, where the lyrist Moore, in failing health, 
 exhaled his parting breath, oblivious of song, rendered the 
 society met at Bremhill very captivating, from its special 
 varieties in character and the high intellectual tone which 
 predominated over the whole. Great knowledge of life, 
 scholarly attainments, genius, and general talent were re- 
 cognized for the select admission, and happily mingled in 
 easy, unformal intercourse, left impressions upon every 
 mind, the pleasure and instruction of which could hardly be 
 
26 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 forgotten. The admirable educational and industrial schools, 
 supported and superintended by the Marchioness and the 
 pastor's excellent wife, Mrs. Bowles, were not the least 
 gratifying features in this delightful scene of serenity, bene- 
 volence, and righteous feeling towards earth and heaven. 
 
 As a poet, I may remark, Bowles belonged immediately 
 to the pre-sensation epoch. Finely sensitive to moral 
 beauties, a touching tenderness, often gliding (as in all truly 
 feeling human hearts observant of social life it will glide) 
 into tones of pity and pathos, breathed through all his pro- 
 ductions, and was couched in language exquisitely simple 
 and natural. There is hardly one of his many sonnets but 
 might be quoted in proof of these admirable qualities, which 
 recommended them at once to the taste and judgment of the 
 most critical and to wide-spread popular appreciation. That 
 they inspired a succession of delightful writers I have 
 already noticed ; but I will add that not one surpassed, if 
 any equalled, the original in his compassionate conceptions 
 of humanity, and the genial expression of his ideas. Kind- 
 ness and sympathy filled his soul with high imagining, but 
 nevertheless found utterance in the most delicate allusions. 
 His pictures, or rather his sketches, resembled the finest 
 water-colour painting — no daubing, no strengthening with 
 bits of foreign character, but all pure, harmonious, and 
 complete — " when unadorned, adorned the most." I will 
 open his volume — would it were opened and studied as 
 much as it deserves — and adopt the first example. It is a 
 sonnet, written at Ostend, in 1797 — hark ! 
 
 " How sweet the tuneful bells responsive peal ! 
 
 # # * # # 
 
 They fling their melancholy music wide, 
 Bidding me many a tender thought recall 
 Of summer days, and those delightful years 
 
 When by my native stream, in life's fair prime, 
 The mournful music of their mingled chime 
 First waked my wondering childhood into tears ! 
 But seeming now, when all those days are o'er, 
 The sounds of joy once heard, and heard no more." 
 
THE REV. W. LISLE BOWLES. 2T 
 
 Or take the closing lines of a poem on " Silchester, the 
 ancient Roman city of Caleva : " — 
 
 " Lone city of the dead ! thy pride is past, 
 Thy temples sunk, as at the whirlwind's blast ! 
 Silent — all silent, where the mingling cries 
 Of gather'd myriads rent the pnrple skies ! 
 Here — where the summer breezes wave the wood, 
 The stern and silent gladiator stood, 
 And listen'd to the shouts that hail'd his gushing blood ; 
 And on this wooded mount, that oft of yore 
 Hath echoed to the Libyan lion's roar, 
 The ear scarce catches, from the shady glen, 
 The small pipe of the solitary wren." 
 
 I know not what readers of our day may think of such 
 themes ; but to my mind, the turn of the sentiment is 
 indescribably sweet and true to nature ; and not the less 
 affecting, because it is as gentle as it is true. But every- 
 where similar elements of kindly sentiment are evolved with 
 similar grace, and frequently with greater force, when the 
 subject elicits greater intensity, and the more placid eluci- 
 dation yields to the fervidness of genius. 
 
 In 1855 an edition of his collected works was published 
 (Nichol, Edinburgh) by the Rev. George Gilfillan, who 
 considers Bowles "the father of the modern school of Eng- 
 lish poetry." His first poetical publication, consisting of 
 sonnets, appeared in 1789. From that time a number of 
 poems appeared in rapid succession, of which the most 
 popular were " Coomber Ellen and St. Michael's Mount ; " 
 " The Sorrows of Switzerland ; " " The Spirit of Discovery/' 
 "The Missionary of the Andes,;" and, in 1837, his last 
 volume, " Scenes and Shadows of Days departed." He died 
 at Salisbury in 1850, aged eighty -eight years. 
 
28 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 As Byron hypothetically quoted Pope in his adversaria 
 with the more obnoxious triumvirate of the Lakes, I may 
 advert to the fact that even in his literary dispute with the 
 less offensive Bowles, on the poetic standard of that im- 
 mortal, he was destined to afford another proof that 
 " Warfare upon earth was the life of an author." But with 
 this quarrel I will not meddle, holding, as I do, the opinion 
 that, unlike the Yirgilian finale of the shepherds' contest, 
 neither of the combatants deserved so much as half a crown ! 
 Bowles showed the extreme irritability of the irritabile 
 genus vatum, on the subject (the question, no doubt, being 
 intensified by his feelings with reference to his opponent) ; 
 and as for Byron, vituperation was his forte, and he spared 
 the good-natured critic on Pope as little as he spared 
 Coleridge, Wordsworth, and Southey, or as Bowles spared 
 D'Israeli, pere, when he smote him as the Corypheus of the 
 " Quarterly," which had refrained from reviewing his " Last 
 Saxon." 
 
 To me it seemed curious that, judging from their respec- 
 tive writings, I might have exjjected the disp\itants to take 
 the opposite side to that they espoused. Still Pope's epi- 
 grammatic points and the " Dunciad " would have more 
 charms for Byron than for Bowles, and so, Like Sir Lucius 
 O'Trigger's rationale for duelling, the affair stood very well 
 for their literary pistols and bullets. A controversy with 
 Mr. Roscoe, of which I remember hearing a good deal at 
 the time (forty years ago), may now as well be buried with 
 Beppo. 
 
 Bowles's style was beautifully simple. He that ran might 
 read, and, what is better, understand every syllable he read. 
 The school had not risen whose most poetic execution is most 
 vehemently prized as its shades deepen in unintelligibility, 
 from the simply obscure to the utterly incomprehensible. 
 
THE REV. W. LISLE BOWLES. 29 
 
 At least by me, for I lack the virtue I am required to pos- 
 sess, when, confessing my shear want of sufficient intelli- 
 gence, I am told that in order to realize the sublime genius 
 of the writer, I must lift my soul (en rapport /) to be in 
 unison with his or hers, as the case may be ! Wanting this 
 power, I am often compelled to throw down modern and 
 much-bepraised authors in despair. 
 
 With the tender and graceful poetry of Lisle Bowles I 
 had no such fruitless toil. He touched and did not over- 
 whelm me ; and, alas ! for my taste, rather than lose myself 
 in the lofty clouds of the vague, imaginative, and mysterious, 
 I would give a sigh to such lines as the following on B. 
 Tremlyn, an old soldier, buried in Bremhill churchyard, 
 aged 92, and not printed in the works of the writer, who 
 lived to be nearly 89. 
 
 " A poor old soldier shall not He unknown, 
 Without a verse, and this recording stone. 
 'Twas his, in youth, o'er distant lands to stray, 
 Danger and death companions of his way : 
 Here in his native village, drooping age 
 Closed the lone evening of his pilgrimage. 
 Speak of the past — of names of high renown — 
 Or his brave comrades long to dust gone down ; 
 His look with instant animation glow'd, 
 Tho' ninety winters on his head had snow'd, 
 His country, whilst he lived, alone supplied, 
 And Faith her shield held o'er him when he died. 
 Hope, Christian, that his spirit lives with God, 
 And pluck the wild weeds from the lowly sod, 
 Where dust to dust, beside the chancel's shade, 
 Till the last trump, a brave man's bones are laid." 
 
 In prose Mr. Bowles published little. His "Life of 
 Bishop Ken," however, a good-sized pamphlet, was an able 
 defence of the Church Establishment, and among the very 
 first earnest appeals in favour of national education. The 
 former portion was due to his station as canon residentiary 
 at Salisbury Cathedral ; and the latter did honour to his 
 
30 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 foresight and patriotism as a sincere lover of his country, 
 and advocate for its welfare. There were some curious 
 notices of old Isaac Walton in that volume, but nothing 
 that demands my reminiscence. I might, however, have 
 said more of "The Last Saxon," which displays much 
 sweet and effective poetry. Another production of his pen, 
 too, might justly be entitled to the warmest praise, namely, 
 a charming little book composed for the school at Bremhill. 
 On a beautiful summer morning, and on the beautiful lawn 
 in front of the Parsonage, it was indeed delightful to see the 
 well-dressed children feted and singing these grateful hymns. 
 It deserves reprinting ; and, in truth, even in the midst of 
 the. sensation of our day, the works of Bowles would furnish 
 a competent editor with the materials for a very interesting 
 and, I doubt not, popular publication. 
 
 Mr. Hallam, in his anniversary address, as President, to 
 the Royal Society of Literature, thus spoke of Canon 
 Bowles, and, to nay thinking, in a manner so different from 
 the common-place posthumous " Eidoge" as to be worthy 
 alike of the living and the dead : — ■ 
 
 " The Kev. William Lisle Bowles," he said, " bore a name 
 which he had raised to high distinction in the garden of 
 
 the Muses He had nearly completed his ninetieth 
 
 year when the call of death came to his door. He was, 
 therefore, the senior poet of England, even if one of vene- 
 rated name,* which at present we are not disposed to deter- 
 mine, may have sooner reached his youthful hand to pluck 
 one of those laurels which now shade his brow, and remind 
 us of the beautiful lines in which Dryden has evidently 
 alluded to his own time-honoured age : — 
 
 ' E'en when the vital sap retreats below, 
 E'en when the hoary head is hid in snow, 
 The life is in the leaf, and still between 
 The flakes of falling snow, appears the living green.' " 
 
 * A fine compliment to S. Rogers, with whom Mr. Hallam lived 
 on intimate terms. 
 
THE REV. W. LISLE BOWLES. 31 
 
 Then, followed a concise and lucid summary of the 
 poetical career of Bowles, which, even at the cost of some 
 repetitions, I am induced to copy, as a fine example of judi- 
 cious criticism, uninfluenced by the sentimental vein which 
 so generally makes such tributes mockeries, or the rather 
 opposite feeling which difference of views and character 
 
 might have induced. 
 
 ***** 
 
 " The sonnets of Bowles may'be reckoned among the first- 
 fruits of a new era in poetry. They came in an age when 
 a common-place facility in rhyming on the one hand, and 
 an almost nonsensical affectation in a new school on the 
 other, had lowered the standard so much that critical j udges 
 spoke of English poetry as of something nearly extinct, and 
 disdained to read what they were sure to disapprove. In 
 these sonnets there was observed a grace of expression, a 
 musical versification, and especially an air of melancholy 
 tenderness, so congenial to the poetical temperament, which 
 still, after sixty years of a more propitious period than that 
 which immediately preceded their publication, preserves for 
 their author a highly respectable position among our poets. 
 The subsequent poems of Mr. Bowles did not belie the 
 promise of his youth. They are indeed unequal ; many 
 passages, no doubt, are feeble, and some are affected ; but 
 there are characteristics of his poetry, which render it dear 
 to the young and susceptible, — not those characteristics 
 only which have been just mentioned, but a sympathy with 
 external nature, a quickness in perceiving, and a felicity in 
 describing, what most charms the eye and the ear ; his con- 
 tinual residence in the country assisting him in the one, 
 his ardent love of music in the other. Mr. Bowles pub- 
 lished also an edition of Pope, as well as a great variety of 
 small tracts, literary, antiquarian, and theological. He was, 
 in fact, a very frequent, though he cannot be called a volu- 
 minous, contributor to the literature of the present century. 
 For several years he had lived wholly at Salisbury ; and, 
 
32 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 as might not unnaturally be expected, was almost lost to 
 the society of his friends which he had previously cultivated 
 with great warmth, through the increasing feebleness of his 
 bodily and mental faculties. But as minister of the parish 
 of Bremhill, near Calne, he had been unremitting in his 
 professional duties, zealous in the education of the poor, 
 and manifesting an exemplary, though happily by no means 
 a rare, instance of the union of all Christian graces with the 
 polish of taste and the amenities of literature." 
 
 Such, truly, is his rank and position as an English poet, 
 whose sweetly natural and moral strains will go down to a 
 late posterity. As a man with whom I enjoyed many 
 years of friendly communion, he was gentle in manners, 
 kindly of disposition, and liberal of mind. He reached an 
 extreme age, and till near the close — 
 
 "Multa ferunt anni venientes commocla secum." 
 
 
( 33 ) 
 
 JOHN BRITTON. 
 
 JOHN BRITTON was entirely a self-made man. But lie 
 did not exhibit in his boyhood the precocious signs 
 which are usually attributed to such a career ; nor was his 
 adolescence passed in pursuits of which it could be predicted 
 that they were promising steps to future social respect and 
 literary reputation. On the contrary, he informs us, in his 
 (unfinished) autobiography, that he was a rough country 
 baker's boy to the age of sixteen, and then immured for 
 nearly six years as an apprentice to a tavern-keeper and 
 wine - cooper in a cellar in Clerkenwell, from which he 
 emerged to be an ardent disciple of the political spouting- 
 clubs then abounding in London, and most of which were 
 evil schools for the information of youth. In these John 
 took as active a part as he could ; but his finances were low, 
 and, perhaps fortunately for him, bis poverty did not permit 
 him to enter further into the arcana of such dangerous dens. 
 From them, however, he acquired the gift of ready and fluent 
 speaking, which he retained to the end of his long life ; 
 always being rather exuberant in words, which, however, 
 were, on the whole, facile and to the purpose. 
 
 His simple account of his weary uphill work in the cellar 
 of the "Jerusalem Tavern" showed that it was only from 
 bad to worse, as compared with his previous native village 
 life in Kington, Wilts, from his birth in 1771 to his re- 
 moval in 1787. His father was a sulky fellow, and addicted 
 to drink; his mother, though a sober woman with good 
 
 D 
 
34 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 qualities, belonged to a family prone to gusts of passion 
 amounting to frenzy ; he was himself a mere run-about, with 
 a small modicum of irregular schooling ; and the household 
 lapsed into ruin. These, as I have suggested, were unlikely 
 premises for a respectable and prosperous sequel ; nor was 
 the succeeding underground occupation of bottling so many 
 dozens of liquor, during twelve or fourteen hours every day, 
 of a kind to improve the prospect. In short, he was got rid 
 of by his uncle, his mother's brother moving in a genteel 
 circle, and left to his destiny. So he learned nothing of his 
 trade, and the unmitigated monotony he describes as plunging 
 him into bad health, and a state of morbid indifference, which 
 benumbed all his faculties, and threw him — 
 
 " Like a villainous flag upon the stream, 
 To rot himself in motion." 
 
 Yet there must have been something of better purpose in 
 the lad ; for, besides the little he could manage at early 
 morn, he used to take snatches of reading by candle-light in 
 the cellar from ten o'clock to midnight, storing his mind 
 with Hervey's " Meditations," Young's " Night Thoughts," 
 Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Progress," and the " Life of Peter the 
 Great." At length, released from thraldom, with two guineas 
 instead of a covenanted twenty, to begin the world with, 
 behold the ultimate historian, antiquary, topographer, critic, 
 biographer, and essayist, cast adrift upon London to carve 
 out a livelihood, with no other requisites for success than his 
 very limited acquaintance with cooperage, and very rudi- 
 mentary knowledge of letters. 
 
 I do not think Wiltshire is very famous for distinguished 
 men. Nevertheless, Britton was patriotically partial to his 
 native county; and, give him the real dairy produce or 
 Stonehenge for a theme, not forgetting the steeple, nor the 
 chapter-house of Salisbury Cathedral, and he would discourse 
 magniloquently on the nutritive produce, the mysterious 
 
JOHN BRITTON. 35 
 
 antiquity, and the architectural beauties of his county. So 
 warm was he when "Wilts was the topic, that he once almost 
 quarrelled with me for hinting that the cheeses were not, as 
 originally, in the form of Cheshire or Gloucester, but in the 
 shape of the crown of a hat, in order to evade the odium of 
 the old joke about the Wiltshire peasants trying to rake the 
 reflection of the moon out of the pool, in a mistake for the 
 fromage. 
 
 From the cellar at Clerkenwell, Britton rose to be an 
 attorney's clerk at fifteen shillings a week, and fagged at the 
 desk for three long years. In another attorney's office he 
 passed one year, at the munificent allowance of twenty 
 shillings weekly. It was whilst thus engaged that he so 
 ardently pursued his predilection for publicity. Nightly did 
 he attend, and as frequently as possible did he take part in, 
 the discussions of the debating societies and other meetings of 
 spouting aspirants, to some of whom, in after-life, the facility 
 acquired in speaking was an advantage, but to the generality 
 affording simply the means for a display of vanity and folly, 
 or leading to idleness and mischief, with many evils in their 
 train. Britton escaped the worse consequences, his ambition 
 being gratified by the applause bestowed on certain comic 
 recitations with which he favoured his audiences ; and the 
 thirst he acquired to become an actor was satiated by a few 
 attempts at private theatricals. At this period of dangerous 
 trial he tells us he used to dine respectably for ninepence, 
 met decent people, and made the acquaintance of the famous 
 Chevalier d'Eon, who appeared in the world engaged in im- 
 portant concerns, alternately, as he listed, or the occasion 
 required, either as a gentleman or a lady. Fortunately 
 Britton knew him in the former capacity, for he reports 
 himself as very readily inflammable by love. In short, his 
 first long journey was not a tour to study churches, but a 
 walk to Plympton, in order to persuade the waiting-maid of 
 the Clerkenwell cellarman's daughter to go to church with 
 him in the character of a bride. But the course of his love 
 
 D 2 
 
36 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 did not run smooth. The faithless flirt jilted the amorous 
 attorney's clerk and married another ; and he, the woe-be- 
 gone, forgot the apposite healing maxim of Dibdin's song, 
 and did "take it like a lubber;" for he confesses that he 
 walked back again to London, " meditating suicide," and 
 drinking " rum-and-milk." 
 
 He thus got to be twenty-seven years of age before what 
 appears, after all, to have been his innate moving principle 
 came into distinct operation. And yet, as I have remarked, 
 speechifying, and reciting funny compositions, and performing 
 underling characters on the stage, were strange preliminaries 
 to this development of apparently another nature. Musty 
 antiquities, and dry topography, were anomalous changes of 
 pursuit ; and the dramatic and romantic aspirations were 
 only tolerably well exchanged for a relish for the pleasures 
 of society, and an aptitude for real instead of imitative 
 enjoyments. 
 
 Smaller literature, however, diversified the greater inclina- 
 tions, and he exercised his talent for writing as at the clubs 
 he had done for speaking. He became a contributor to 
 periodicals of the day, some of which have succumbed to the 
 common lot, though one or more may yet survive under 
 modified circumstances, and can be referred to as containing 
 the earliest essays of John Britton. The " Attic Miscellany " 
 received his unclassic criticisms, and the " Monthly Mirror" 
 reflected his various humours, as they were inspired by his 
 experience of the publican's cellar, the attorney's offices, and 
 the vivid disputations of the clubs- — those pot-house discus- 
 sions of morality, and rambling disquisitions on every diffi- 
 cult question in learning, politics, and theology, which 
 agitated the minds of men at a very unsettled and stormy 
 epoch. The " Adventures of Pizarro " marked his first 
 separate flight into the region of print, and the commence- 
 ment of his extended literary life. Henceforward he mixed 
 largely with the world, and made himself many friends and 
 admirers, sprinkled with a few adversaries and detractors. 
 
JOHN BRITTON. 37 
 
 And so it was like to be ; for, through a long course of 
 years, his dealings were varied and multifarious, and he had 
 to do with some difficult classes of men ; such as authors, 
 artists, and publishers. Sometimes he would differ with the 
 latter, and become his own publisher ; and then, as is usually 
 the case, he did not succeed much better, and the only gain 
 was that he could not quarrel with himself. 
 
 His first grand business excursion, near the end of the last 
 century, brought him into close contact with these three 
 combined representatives of the press. He had broken into 
 a new, or, at any rate, only partially travelled field, and, 
 going to woi'k methodically, he beat his way veiy cleverly 
 through it. His good sense and practical taste contributed 
 much to the value of his publications, as he displayed the 
 best judgment in associating with his undertakings a suc- 
 cession of draughtsmen and engravers the majority of whom 
 have risen to the highest reputation in their several lines of 
 art. The names of Le Keux, Pugin, Havell, Bartlett, 
 among others, afford sufficient proof of this judicious adop- 
 tion of aids to popularity, and enhanced the attraction of all 
 Mr. Britton's principal productions. 
 
 During more than half a century, many and continuous 
 were they. The " Beauties of Wiltshire" began the career, 
 and particular features and celebrated men of his native 
 county furnished subjects for his pen to the end of his active 
 life. " Rees's Cyclopaedia," " The Penny Cyclopaedia," and 
 other publications of Mr. Charles Knight (on whose 
 strenuous efforts in the cause of the diffusion of useful 
 knowledge Mr. Britton bestows a glowing exilogy), and the 
 " Annual Review," were the receptacles of many of these 
 articles ; whilst, latterly, the " Gentleman's Magazine," the 
 "Magazine of Fine Arts," and the "Builder," afterwards 
 and still so ably edited by his friend,* were the chief deposi- 
 taries of his obituaries and other miscellaneous effusions. 
 
 * Upon his death, a very feeling tribute to his memory appeared 
 from the pen of Mr. George Godwin. Mr. Godwin's youthful con- 
 
38 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 I should estimate that more than fifty volumes of topo- 
 graphy led the way to, or alternated with, the truly great 
 works on Christian architecture and the cathedrals and 
 cathedral antiquities of England, which proceeded, year after 
 year, from the author's prolific enterprise. Not only was he 
 never idle, but he was always vigilantly busy. Nulla dies 
 sine linea seemed to be his motto ; for there was a perpetual 
 succession of volumes, pamphlets, and papers, which kept 
 the author's rising name and valuable services for ever before 
 the public eye. And this is an important concern in author- 
 ship. If you do not take care to keep yourself conspicuous 
 in the crowd, the crowd will run over you, trample you 
 down, and leave you to be lost sight of and forgotten. The 
 task was onerous in Britton's earlier days : railway trains 
 and railway stations, with puffs and placards, have made it 
 easier now. 
 
 In Britton himself, no slackness was there found. Ancient 
 and modern, cromlechs, and topics of the hour — nothing 
 came amiss to his restlessly inquiring and active spirit. 
 Stonehenge, Junius, Shakespeare, Pizarro, Chatterton, 
 Nelson, John Aubrey, Sir John Soane, Bath Abbey and 
 Fonthill Abbey, the Tower of London and the London 
 Colosseum, Celtic Kist-Vaens, and Paris in 1828, form in- 
 gredients of a medley hardly to be exceeded by any instance 
 I know of varied talent in a single individual. I had 
 nearly forgotten. There were lighter matters, and poetry 
 too, not of the foremost order, but enough to show the com- 
 prehensive versatility of the stirring mind. And our wonder 
 augments when we consider the origin and progress of this 
 accomplished fact. For the rude country boy, the hard- 
 working cellarman, the neophyte of noisy clubs, to stand 
 
 nection with Mr. Britton, with respect to Eedcliffe Church, Bristol 
 would seem to have initiated him into the patient investigation and 
 diligent study so needful to the genuine architect, and prepared him 
 for the successful course he is now running. At all events, this brief 
 memoir does honour to the living as to the dead. 
 
JOHN BKITTON. 39 
 
 forth far above the universal herd for capacity, astuteness? 
 attainments, and the power of rendering them instructive 
 to the world, is a spectacle rarely to be seen within the verge 
 and scope of humanity. Nature asserted her dominion. 
 What Britton might have been with education and scholarly 
 training, is a problem for curious conjecture. As it was, he 
 was a remarkable celebrity, with a name to be repeated with 
 praise by future generations. 
 
 His personal appearance was not imposing. On the con- 
 trary, he was petit, his manner a little brusque, and his 
 countenance boyish, even to the end. Neither was the cha- 
 racter of his mind of a high or solid cast. The soul befitted 
 the body. He was easily offended, and, when provoked or 
 prejudiced, not very measured in his terms of resentment or 
 reprobation. On the other hand, he was warmly alive to 
 good offices, and gratefully sensible to kindness, of which he 
 was blessed with no scanty share from considerate and 
 wealthy friends, who appreciated the sterling value of his 
 works, and liked the conversation of the old man, whose 
 closing years they gilded with hospitable solicitude and the 
 comforts so needful to soothe the ills attendant on the de- 
 cline of life. Among the chief of these were several of our 
 greatest builders : Mr. Thomas and Mr. William Cubitt, 
 and Mr. Grisell (of whom I have spoken in others of these 
 brief sketches), and other well-known persons, stick as Dr. 
 John Conolly, Mr. Humfrey, Q.C.; Mr. William Tooke, 
 Mr. Charles Hill, the co-sheriff of London with Mr. W. 
 Cubitt, and Mr. Nathaniel Gould, the American merchant, 
 who was, indeed, the prime mover of an association which, 
 during ten years, brightened the existence of the object of 
 their unremitting regards. * The origin of this society, or 
 
 * The other members were Mr. S. Gibbons (the friend of T. Hood 
 at pleasant Winchmore Hill), Mr. George Godwin and Mr. Peter 
 Cunningham (who acted as joint secretaries), and the writer of inis 
 mournfully sweet reminiscence of the social enjoyments of Bedford 
 
40 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 club, was such an honour as few living authors have enjoyed. 
 A dinner entertainment, to celebrate his seventy- fourth 
 birthday, and acknowledge the extent and utility of his 
 publications, was given to Mr. Britton at Richmond, by 
 personal friends and admirers of his literary labours, at 
 which nearly a hundred gentlemen " assisted." There was 
 much good cheer and much post-prandial speaking. The 
 enjoyment really partook of the feast of reason and the flow 
 of soul. 
 
 But Richmond banquets, especially where the com- 
 pany is numerous, and trains and omnibuses in request for 
 departure, are not suited for a full indulgence in these 
 pleasant laudatory emotions. To confess the truth, their 
 manifestation overshot the short time for ex-urban festivi- 
 ties, and I and other guests were obliged to leave, for the 
 sake of conveyance, in the midst of a very touching, but, for 
 the resources of the occasion, rather lengthy address by an 
 excellent dignitary of the Church. Our loss of the finale, 
 coupled with the genial and genuine gratification of the 
 meeting, seemed to have suggested to its warm-hearted 
 chairman, Mr. Gould, the idea of founding a Britton Club, 
 where a few select intimates, with more time to enjoy it, 
 might continue to administer a continuation of a like nature 
 to the happiness of the social, respected, and worthy old 
 antiquary. The number did not exceed twelve, and the 
 majority I have named above. They assembled during "the 
 season " now and then at attractive spots of resort near 
 town, but generally at their private residences, where the 
 abundant tide of hospitality never ebbed. Several times the 
 Lord Chief Baron honoured them with his presence, and 
 participated in their gaiety and good feeling. To Britton 
 
 Hill, Clapham Park, and Norbury, the mansions of the Cubitts 
 and Mr. Grisell ; not to mention those more intra-mural in Russell 
 and Hyde-Park Squares and other hospitable residences. There are 
 many amusing incidents related of them in Britton's unfinished and 
 posthumous auto -biography. 
 
JOHN BRITTON. 41 
 
 they were tlie pabulum of life. He looked forward to their 
 meetings ; he calculated them and his patriarchal years, and 
 drew horoscopes and hopes. When in the country, away 
 from London, for example at Mr. Grisell's beautiful seat, 
 Norbury Park, he always found a home to refresh his spirit ; 
 and he was as brisk as when he walked to Plympton, but 
 with a far different result, neither meditating suicide, nor 
 the antidote, rum-and-milk. Seriously, however, to Heaven 
 he had indeed cause to be most grateful for bestowing upon 
 him such friendships, to alleviate the rigours of age, and 
 warm its cold pilgrimage to the close. 
 
 I have alluded to a characteristic which was not so amiable 
 as those which recommended him to such welcomes and dis- 
 tinctions, but yet did not provoke the disapjjrobation which 
 the nude mention of it would generally incur. In no man 
 did I ever witness it less offensive and censurable. He was 
 what is called outspoken, and sometimes delivered harsh 
 opinions, which were coloured by his own feelings rather 
 than founded on deliberate or abstract justice. A wrong or 
 a fancied wrong, an erroneous view, an unsubstantial report, 
 would serve for a strong dictum. But there was this excuse 
 to palliate the indiscretion : he only blamed what he believed 
 wrong, and he knew no malice. He was quick, and his 
 quickness betrayed him, against the natural bent of Ms 
 mind, which was charitable and kindly, into ebullitions, the 
 sense of which rarely lasted beyond the period of their utter- 
 ance. I have, however, reluctantly touched on the subject 
 (for I desire my traits to be the truth), because I have, read 
 with regret, in his fragmentary autobiography, passages 
 affecting individuals which I am sure he would have quali- 
 fied or cancelled had he lived to bestow his ultimate con- 
 sideration upon that work. His remarks upon Sir John 
 Soane, from whom he suffered a severe disappointment, and 
 Dr. Dibdin, and even the amatory Dr. Lardner, as a curious 
 philosophical coxcomb, are examples of this blemish. But 
 to be outspoken with envy or rancour is a social crime : to 
 
42 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 be outspoken as Britton was amounted to no more than a 
 rashness springing from his buoyant temperament and hasty 
 judgment. Here, then, let us look back on his early years, 
 and the process of training he went through instead of a 
 sound education, and make charitable allowance for his 
 faults. 
 
 Among his minor errors, I may repeat that my old friend 
 was guilty of verse, though not of an order to lift him high 
 in the poetic choir which chirps about the lower slopes of 
 Parnassus. His efforts, indeed, were not ambitious, but 
 generally to promote benevolent purposes, and thence worthy 
 of praise. But he did not waste his time on the muses when 
 he should have been wisely occupying it with useful prac- 
 tical work ; and, occasionally, the variations of a lighter 
 literature did credit to his taste and talent. The chief speci- 
 mens of this may be seen in his " Shakespearean Illustra- 
 tions," and his inquiry into the authorship of Junius ; but, 
 indeed, he was always busy, and taking an earnest interest 
 in passing affairs. The Literary Fund was long an object of 
 his solicitude and zealous support ; but plans for new bene- 
 volent institutions and establishments for the promotion of 
 the fine arts, and succour to those already in existence, were 
 never long absent from his thoughts and pen ; and, so far as 
 lay within his compass, he might fairly be considered a 
 patriotic and liberal friend to all rightful claimants on public 
 sympathies. A paltry pension of seventy-five pounds a year 
 was granted to this voluminous standard author — an amount 
 showing the ministerial estimate of a valuable national in- 
 structor as compared with the writers of political satires, or 
 trashy party novels. It was, however, some help in his old 
 age, when past work, and when he married his second wife. 
 As a trait of character, I may relate, that he announced this 
 fact himself at one of the symposia I have described, and 
 sensibly stated that it was no act of senile folly, but the 
 simple adoption of an affectionate nursing friend into the 
 position of a wife, in which she could continue her consoling 
 
JOHN BRITTON-. 43 
 
 attentions "without attracting the heartless remarks of a 
 sneering world. The union was a very happy one, and the 
 conduct of the lady amply justified the commendation and 
 expectations of her helpmate. 
 
 But the end must come. Lively to the last, the season of 
 winter tried the tough constitution, and he was wont to 
 glance forward to its frosts and snows, and anticijjate if he 
 might again rejoice with his kind friends in the cherished 
 club renovations of health and spirit. The warning date of 
 fourscore and five arrived. His latest action was to forward 
 to the printer of a periodical some matter relating to his 
 friend and neighbour Mr. Baily, the astronomer, and to 
 promise that, after resting for a day or two, he would 
 send somewhat respecting Whittaker and. Neele (two of 
 his intimate favourites), intended for the same publication. 
 This was on the 2nd of December, 1856 ; on the 4th he 
 was taken ill with bronchitis, and four weeks afterwards 
 he died. 
 
 A massive stone in the cemetery at Norwood is inscribed 
 with the name John Britton. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Of him I have little posthumous to add to this brief 
 epitaph. One of his warmest friends, commemorated in my 
 sketch, writes me :— " One curious part of his life you have 
 not noticed — his being once, for a time, in a racing stable, 
 where, I suppose, his light weight seemed to lead naturally 
 to the racing saddle." So we add another strange phase to 
 the eccentric and unpromising orbit of his youth ; and 
 as these metamorphoses were numerous and various, so 
 
44 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ■were the projects, as well as the enterprises of his maturer 
 years. 
 
 At one period he wrote the biography of his friend Mr. 
 Henry Hatcher, author of the History of Salisbury, to 
 accompany his own autobiography ; and bestowed more pains 
 upon preceding exertions, to illustrate the history of his 
 favoured Wiltshire. Again, I observe him (1835) endea- 
 vouring to found an " Archaeological and Topographical 
 Institution of Great Britain, for Promoting Systematic 
 Histories and Illustrations of its numerous Antiquities." 
 This scheme, however, fell to the ground. He was not more 
 fortunate with the leading part he took in the formation of 
 the (now Royal) Geographical Society, the first hint for 
 which was certainly given by a correspondent in the 
 " Literary Gazette," a clerk in the India House.* Upon 
 this hint, Britton took action (as the saying is), and, along 
 with others (quorum pars fui), proposed and planned, and 
 circulated prospectuses for a considerable time before it was 
 adopted by higher and more influential authorities. Yet 
 the original printed circulars by Britton bore the names 
 of several eminent men in both services and in scientific 
 pursuits. But the new design, inaugurated two years after 
 the first proposal was issued, though not the first moving, 
 was, unquestionably, in far more efficient hands, and espe- 
 cially as the principal officials at the Admiralty entered 
 zealously into its promotion. Captain Beaufort, whom it 
 was rather hazardous, in any affair, to contradict, became a 
 strenuous supporter ; but the main stress was undertaken 
 by Sir John Barrow, who published their first programme, 
 and was, as far as personal energy went, the founder of 
 the society. Britton joined it, and remained two years upon 
 the Council ; but, deeming himself browbeaten, retired in 
 disgust. In one of his letters to me, he refers to a review 
 of the " Life of Barrow," written "by Admiral Smyth" (the 
 
 * Mr. W. Huttman : May, 1828. 
 
JOHN BEITTON. 45 
 
 noble-minded character whose loss we now deplore), as 
 throwing light upon this interesting literary and public 
 question ; but, as I have forgotten where it appeared, I 
 can only mention the statement. As it turned out, all 
 rallied round the able presidency of Barrow, and the 
 Geographical Society was auspiciously launched, to attain 
 its present magnitude and usefulness under the sceptre of 
 Sir Roderick Murchison ! 
 
 In the days of the living life of memorable men, there is 
 no end to the petty detection of weaknesses, foibles, faults, 
 and errors, which may blot the fair bearings of their bright 
 escutcheons ; and, even after death, there is no want of the 
 fiat justitia gens, to weigh every grain of character in their 
 own infallible scales ; and, like the final deity-judge in the 
 Egyptian mythology, pronounce sentence according to their 
 test in the balancing of right and wrong. Britton, of course, 
 had his detractors. His struggles were pushing, his efforts 
 to acquire popular notoriety or public notice — the very 
 marrow most essential to any author's success — was puffing, 
 or vanity, and he was " little Britton" to many not possessed 
 of a tithe of his extraordinary talent and persevering in- 
 dustry ; for the amount of his production is astonishing, 
 and most of it is of a valuable and lasting nature. I know 
 not how many huge quartos it may fill, but I do know that, 
 within a goodly number of such receptacles, besides many 
 other volumes of every size and shape and form of embellish- 
 ment, he has stored an immense amount of " useful know- 
 ledge " and pictorial beauty. He gave half a century to 
 antiquities, topography, biography, criticism, the fine arts — 
 including cathedral architecture, his grand object, — and 
 miscellaneous points of general literature ; and it would be 
 difficult to equal the extent and worth of his labours 
 within the compass of any one writer of our nineteenth 
 century. 
 
 It is lamentable to conclude that poverty (notwithstanding 
 all the amelioration derived from kind-hearted friends who 
 
46 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 esteemed him) hung heavy, between whiles, on his departing 
 years. In the humble wife of his elder time, he happily (as 
 he frequently assured me) met with the " ministering angel," 
 so often incarnated in the helpmate of man — be he ever so 
 destitute, forlorn, or afflicted. I believe she is now, a sad 
 widow, residing at Kingston, and that the paltry pension of 
 her husband has not been continued to her. 
 
 -X 
 
 /k^ b^/fcA 
 
 Th^i^^ 
 
( 47 ) 
 
 SIR MARK ISAMBARD BRUNEL. 
 
 BRUNEL the younger, and Stephenson, also the younger, 
 are both gone. The broad gauge and the narrow gauge 
 have led but to the grave ; and these eminent engineers, who 
 have covered the earth with their wonderful works, can now 
 only occupy the space of a schoolboy's leap. The great con- 
 ductors of steam railways and electricity over the bounds of 
 the universe have been borne to their last abode of solitude 
 and silence. But the memory of these great masters of 
 magical mechanics is yet too green for me to include in my 
 sketches — meant to be distinct from biographical dictionaries, 
 and, by a few characteristic traits, to afford to others some- 
 what of a personal acquaintance with those worthy of note, 
 whom I have known within the passing nineteenth century. 
 To its commencement, and even antedating that a little, I 
 now go back. 
 
 Mark Isambard Brunei, the elder, was born not far from 
 Rouen, the great centre of the industry of Normandy ; 
 where Corneille and Fontenelle were also born ; where the 
 statue of the Maid of Orleans stands, a monument, cere 
 perennius, to superstition, fanaticism, and barbarity ; and 
 where, above all, cottons and silks are evolved from busy 
 looms, hardware is hammered, chemicals are manipulated, 
 and confectionery, the nicest in France, is deliciously com- 
 pounded for the encouragement of such clever little fellows 
 as Mark. For he was clever, lively, intelligent, inquisitive, 
 and French. He was, besides, of respectable family, and 
 
48 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 educated, so far, with a view to the priesthood ; but, im- 
 pelled by his strong bias, he devoted himself to mechanics, 
 and to those scientific studies which are necessary for the 
 attainment of jjre-eminent skill in mechanical art. 
 
 The career of a man who has contributed so large a share 
 to the improvement of the age, cannot fail of instruction ; 
 for it must show how difficulties are surmounted and per- 
 severance crowned. After exercising his ingenuity for awhile 
 in his native country, at a period when its terrible convul- 
 sions destroyed every effort and hope of industry, our ardent 
 mechanician sought the congenial soil of England for the 
 employment of his talents, feeling strong in the conviction 
 of his power to perform services worthy of the patronage of 
 a great naval nation. But we are aware of the old saying, 
 " To know, to do, to suffer " is too often the fate of unap- 
 preciated genius. Brunei was no exception to the rule. He 
 presented project after project to the authorities ; he laid 
 plan after plan before the Government. He argued, he de- 
 monstrated, but all in vain. In those days, whatever it may 
 be now, a constructive applicant was sure to be delayed, if 
 not defeated, by the obstructives in office. The preventive 
 was an overmatch for the inventive ; and Privy Council, 
 Ordnance Department, and Admiralty, were plied with the 
 usual effect by the assiduous foreigner, till their formal billets 
 of perpetual objection to whatsoever he proposed, and rejec- 
 tion of whatsoever he offered, would have tired out any less 
 zealous projector, without supplying a single page of variety 
 to the complete (official) Letter Writer. But he, in conscious 
 self-reliance, still endured — 
 
 " The insolence of office, and the spurns 
 That patient merit of the unworthy takes." 
 
 At length, at his wit's end, he almost gave up in absolute 
 despair ; and, as a valedictory memorial of his merits and 
 want of success, thought only of presenting a curious baga- 
 
SIR MARK ISAMBARD BRUNEL. 49 
 
 telle to Lady Spencer, whose lord was at the head of the 
 Admiralty, and had shown some personal attention to the 
 lively little Frenchman, during his wearisome waiting visits 
 to obtain a trial of his experiments. In those days, round 
 games at cards were a favourite amusement for ladies, as 
 gambling, unfortunately, was for gentlemen ; and Lady 
 Spencer, in her high position, could not be out of fashion. 
 To her ladyship, therefore, M. Brunei sent what appeared 
 to be a miniature pigeon-house, shaped like a turret, and 
 with pigeon-holes all round the upper part. It was not, 
 however, for pigeons, though it might be for pigeoning. 
 It was, in fact, a contrivance for dealing cards for round 
 games. The cards were laid in at the top, a spring was 
 touched, the tower whirled round, and, according to the 
 index, dealt as many cards from the apertures into as 
 many packets as was desired. Everybody was in raptures 
 with the design, and the cards turned up trumps for 
 the lucky inventor. Trifle as it was, the card-dealer was 
 exceedingly ingenious, and the artist, having thus won his 
 way to a fair hearing, was within a very short period seen in 
 the responsible position of superintending the manufacture 
 of that block machinery, of which it is not too much to say 
 that to it Great Britain was deeply indebted for the means 
 by which her grand series of brilliant victories were 
 achieved, and a commerce that overspread the globe was 
 nourished and protected. And how simple did it seem — 
 more simple than the card-engine ; for here the shapeless 
 lump of wood was merely thrown into the machine, and in 
 a few seconds emerged the complete, convoluted, and 
 finished block, which had hitherto taxed the utmost skill 
 and patience of experienced workmen to produce in suf- 
 ficient quantity to supply the pressing wants of naval 
 supremacy. 
 
 Henceforward, there was, of course, remunerative busi- 
 ness for M. Brunei ; and he continued to make new and 
 important additions to his undertakings, of which his 
 
 E 
 
50 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 adopted country reaped the benefit. He went on improv- 
 ing and prospering. But such a spirit can never be still. 
 There must ever be some object in view to keep alive its 
 activity. The Thames Tunnel came upon the public with 
 a startling effect. It was a problem. Opinion ran into 
 admiration or ridicule. Extremes, and no medium, and 
 the most entertaining " reason why ] " was assigned by a 
 travelling countryman of the projector's, who, treating, as 
 French authors will do, of English national character, stated 
 that we were ever emulous till we had attained a certain 
 pitch of excellence, which we immediately despised, and then 
 turned quite another way to gratify our restless ambition. 
 Thus, he observed, " Having succeeded in building the finest 
 bridges in the world over rivers, they became quite disgusted 
 with the perfection, and got my compatriot, M. Brunei, to 
 devise for them a sort of bridge, not to go over, but under 
 the river." The joyous and jocund propounder of this 
 matchless scheme, ever as playful as in his boyhood, would 
 laugh heartily at this explanation, and still more when 
 told of the remark, in broken English, of another of his 
 Norman friends, who boasted of him as a very great giant 
 in engineering, who had "pushed his toe-nail" (tunnel) all 
 under the Thames. 
 
 His action was brisk ; his laugh was always ready, loud, 
 and merry ; his ideas original and extraordinary. I remem- 
 ber on one philosophico -festive occasion, when dilating on 
 the inexhaustible wealth and resources of Great Britain, he 
 calculated an approximate value of her canals and turnpike 
 roads, and ended with an estimate showing how many gold 
 and silver watches were worn by particular members belong- 
 ing to the several classes of the people, and how, if laid 
 down on the road, touching each other, they would reach 
 from London to Portsmouth, with a few miles, roods, and 
 yards to spare. He was perfectly in earnest, and probably 
 not far wrong in the total sum of value he attached to this 
 very long watch-chain. 
 
SIR MARK ISAMBARD BRUNEL. 51 
 
 Sir Mark Isambard Brunei died ten years ago, much be- 
 loved and lamented. His unassuming manners, tinged with. 
 a ready disposition for pleasant humour, furnished no inti- 
 mation of the extraordinary mechanical talent with which 
 he was gifted. He was the impersonation of Philosophy in 
 Sport, and not the less a true philosopher. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 To my brief notice of this eminent engineer and mechanical 
 genius, I have few more particulars to add, and my personal 
 recollections must but feebly revive the memory of the lively 
 little Frenchman in those who enjoyed the pleasure of his 
 acquaintance ; whilst to those who knew him not, nor ever 
 met him, they can convey only the faintest idea of the vast 
 solid talent embodied in so mercurial a frame. He had 
 practically cultivated his apprehensive powers by a very 
 early seafaring life, and the execution of engineer works 
 in the United States ; so that when he cast his fortunes upon 
 England, his skill was matured, and his reputation fixed. 
 Still, as I have related, he could not obtain a hearing or a 
 trial, till a chance stroke of " luck at cards " gave him the 
 extent of the British empire for the exercise of his inge- 
 nuity. But this was not enough for his enterprise, and he 
 projected a tunnel under the Neva, at St. Petersburg, to 
 which, as the Emperor Alexander could not be persuaded to 
 listen, the disappointed projector turned his attention to the 
 Thames ; and a terrible stir of discussion did his proposal 
 make. Boyal honours and public distinctions crowned his 
 later years. He lived to see that the tunnel, if very costly 
 and not very serviceable, was not the utter failure it was 
 predicted by his opponent wiseacres certainly to be ; and 
 E 2 
 
52 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 contented and happy — I may use the common-place jolly — 
 he continued to the end an unspoilt, merry, estimable, and 
 remarkable man. But it must not be fancied that the ex- 
 cavation of the tunnel was not a work of prodigious diffi- 
 culty, which, like others of his marvellous inventions, 
 required all his ingenuity and skill to overcome. The 
 professional ability he displayed, and the fertility of his re- 
 sources, surprised even the most skilful engineers ; but the 
 Duke of Wellington patronized, and his own son, Mr. I. 
 K. Brunei (also an eminent engineer), assisted him. Thus, 
 from cutting canals on Lake Erie, and building theatres in 
 New York, he came to pester Lord St. Vincent, and was 
 ultimately permitted, through the patronage of Earl Spencer, 
 to do the block machinery, by which, in the first year, the 
 country saved £24,000, of which two-thirds were awarded 
 to the inventor as his recompense. Mr. Charles Manby, the 
 honorary secretary to the Institute of Civil Engineers, to 
 whom I am indebted for this information, and for other 
 interesting particulars, relates that the toy card-dealer was 
 not the only small-ware article which sprang from Brunei's 
 prolific brain, for he invented the ingenious little machine 
 for winding cotton thread into balls, which, simple as it may 
 at first sight appear, has exercised great influence on the ex- 
 tension of the cotton trade ; and we also owe to him the 
 improvement of the great circular saws for cutting veneers, 
 the making of shoes by machinery, and I cannot tell how 
 many novelties and improvements scattered over the wide 
 field of Mechanics, such, I believe, as no other man has ever 
 rivalled, and especially in number. Every function and 
 motion connected with steam and machinery was worked out 
 by him and apjolied to the wonders we witness at ? this day 
 in looking around us at so many hives of industry where 
 we can trace many a movement to his creative genius, 
 which, like his productions, was destined never to stand 
 still. Mercury for speed was combined with Minerva for 
 wisdom. 
 
SIR MARK ISAMBARD BRUNEL. 
 
 53 
 
 I once heard him speak in public. His health was 
 toasted, and lie returned thanks in a neat, terse manner, 
 eliciting much applause. Ever smart and agile, he seemed 
 to be the impersonation of the Perpetual Motion ; but 
 he was human, and he stopped — he died ! Eequiescat in 
 face ! 
 
( 54 ) 
 
 DEAN BUCKLAND. 
 
 BOC-LAND is ground for good Saxon growth, and my 
 subject ought to have been native of the Bucken, or 
 Beech-bearing county of Buckingham ; but Axminster, in 
 Devon, had the honour of William Buckland's birth. 
 
 Winchester school, which has turned out and is continually 
 furnishing distinguished men, and Corpus Christi College, 
 Oxford, were the fountains whence he drew his educational 
 culture ; but long before he went to this school he had mani- 
 fested the bent of his mind by his precocious love of natural 
 history, and boyish devotedness to its observation or study. 
 This feature in his character, if it did not advance him to 
 honours then the most sought for in the University, led the 
 way to the creation of a new set of such objects for ambi- 
 tion, and considerably altered the condition of a curriculum 
 previously founded on the learning of the past, and almost 
 ignoring the requirements of the present. Natural Science 
 rose into repute, Geology started up like a young giant, and 
 the distinctions hitherto confined to classics and mathematics, 
 came to be also acknowledged as the rewards of scientific 
 pursuits. 
 
 Buckland, who had meanwhile been ordained, was nomi- 
 nated Professor of Mineralogy in 1813, and in 1816 was 
 appointed by the Chancellor to the chair of Geology, founded 
 at that date. To him was intrusted the organization of the 
 museum in the Clarendon Buildings, which has since become 
 so rich in fossil remains and other scientific treasures. His 
 fame extended. Two years later he was elected a member 
 
DEAN BUCKLAND. 55 
 
 of the Royal Society, and in two years more appeared before 
 the public with his first work, the " "Vindicise Geologic*," in 
 which he contended for the harmony that prevailed between 
 Revelation and Nature. Without mentioning his various 
 geological works, all of which were most popular, it is sufu- 
 cient to refer to his " Bridgewater Treatise," his selection to 
 write which was a proof of the high estimation in which he 
 stood as a man of science and an author. Finally, he was 
 rewarded with the Deanery of Westminster. Such is the 
 brief outline of a life unusually even and prosperous. 
 
 Dr. Buckland's public character may be defined in one 
 word — he was a geologist. His private popularity may like- 
 wise be explained by describing him as the most genial of 
 men, and a delightful companion. My recollections of him 
 are all connected with these two phases of his character. 
 
 One of the pet words which have recently come to super- 
 sede its synonyme " discuss " (and is never thought of in its 
 strict original meaning, "to expose to fresh air"), viz. "to 
 ventilate," could never be so justly applied as with reference 
 to the British Association and its doings. Professor Buck- 
 land was one of its earliest and most zealous supporters ; it 
 was the very theatre most suitable for him and his talents 
 — for the propagandism of many searches after human 
 knowledge — among which young Geology took a foremost 
 rank. Able and clever men in every branch of science, and 
 every pursuit of information, are deeply indebted to this 
 Association for the opportunities it afforded them for " ven- 
 tilating " their talents, and the views they entertained. It 
 made many gifted individuals generally known, who would 
 otherwise have lived and died in obscurity ; and it led to 
 the advancement of not a few on the high-roads of fortune, 
 whose paths, but for it, would have been most probably, 
 difficult, obscure, and unproductive. After Brewster, its 
 eminent Scottish founder, and Vernon Harcourt, its able 
 advocate, three English University celebrities took the lead 
 among its most active supporters. These were Buckland, 
 
56 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Sedgwick, and Whewell. The British Association answered 
 the ends of all these three widely different persons ; Buck- 
 land, ever playful and pleasing-— Sedgwick, all heart, and a 
 straightforward devotee to the power of truth — and Whe- 
 well, impetuously asserting his own superiority, so as to 
 beget neither the familiar regard of the one nor the genuine 
 esteem of the other, though always looked up to as a man of 
 extraordinary talents. Both were promoted before him ; 
 both lamented and represented that his vast ability was long 
 overlooked ; but there came a sudden shifting in the lottery 
 of patronage : the first prize that turned up was a high one, 
 and the lucky Master of Trinity essayed to kick down the 
 ladder by which he had risen. The Association, however, 
 survived the attempt, and continues to flourish. Whewell, 
 after his elevation, proposed that, instead of being annual, the 
 meetings should take place only triennially ; but the scheme 
 for this gradual extinction was at once warmly repudiated. 
 
 To return to Geology and Buckland. The new science 
 had languished in England since the days of Whiston, till 
 William Smith produced his discovery relating to organized 
 fossil remains being identified with the various strata in 
 which they were found. Upon this the science began to 
 assume a new rank. Buckland was the most sanguine and 
 enthusiastic votary of the inviting theory. His lectures at 
 Oxford gave an immense impulse to scientific zeal. Of his 
 special contributions to geological knowledge, it is not my 
 purpose to speak, but only to recall some impressions of his 
 personal character. In this retrospect, the first recollection 
 is of his captivating conversation, whether on the trite and 
 commonplace topics of the day, or on recondite and fruitful 
 subjects of learning and science. It was indeed at the feast 
 of reason and the flow of social and intellectual intercourse 
 that Buckland shone. With 
 
 " A merrier man, 
 Within the limit of becoming mirth, 
 I never spent an hour's talk withal." 
 
DEAN BUCK LAND. 57 
 
 Nothing came amiss to him. From the creation of the 
 world to the latest news on town — from the flora and fauna 
 of ages long past to the last horticultural meeting at Chis- 
 wick, or exhibition at the Zoological Gardens — through all 
 intermediate time he was equally at home. Nihil tetigit 
 quod non ornavit. There were few subjects which he could 
 not, more or less, illustrate. His information, if not pro- 
 found, covered a vast space ; and where he might be with- 
 out the nugget or massive coin of gold, he was never, at any 
 rate, deficient in ready small change of intrinsic value, to 
 supply the currency desirable for the uses and improvement 
 of intelligent society. In build, look, and manners, he was 
 a thorough English gentleman, and as such was prized in 
 every circle. 
 
 It was no drawback, that in listening to his lessons of 
 wisdom, the infusion of gaiety seemed to make the philo- 
 sophy in sport so unusually entertaining, that the hearer 
 almost forgot that it was nevertheless essentially philoso- 
 phical, and eminently practical. On geology, of course, he 
 was oracular ; but, in alliance with its zealous pursuit, he 
 had made himself master of cognate branches of scientific 
 inquiry, still more immediately ministering to the comfort 
 and welfare of mankind. Take him upon agriculture, for 
 example ; and after a luminous disquisition upon the variety 
 of soils, manures, products, etc., which any farmer might 
 have profited much by hearing, he would enliven the theme 
 by bringing it down to the capacities of the ladies, or of 
 inquisitive but non-scientific auditors like myself. I re- 
 member the astonishment of a country squire, to whom he 
 demonstrated that the barrenness of the field within the 
 park was due to the hosts of pheasants in his well-kept pre- 
 serves, that robbed the earth of its needful chalk, in order 
 to consolidate their egg-shells. This was not a jest, but a 
 fact ; the ground in question was impoverished by the 
 abstraction of a constituent necessary for its greater fertility. 
 
 Anecdote revives anecdote. It was not far distant from 
 
58 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the same locality (on which I have painted this trait), that 
 Buckland made one of his splendid discoveries, viz., that 
 the moraines upon Dartmoor were confirmatory of the 
 glacial theory : the triumphant proclamation of which 
 "truth "was so derided by the people around, who ridi- 
 culed the learned geologist for making such a noise about 
 his seeing moor-hens on the moor ! 
 
 When the unfortunate Mr. Strickland resuscitated the 
 extinct Dodo, and Dr. Mantell, from skeleton bones, repro- 
 duced the Dinornis of New Zealand, the discoveries were 
 made features on the mingled scene of science and pleasantry 
 of the British Association. At Oxford a member picked up 
 an unfledged bird, killed by a fall from the parapet of the 
 Cathedral, and, having it finely packed up by a chemist, 
 the box, properly inscribed as a specimen recently obtained, 
 was handed up to the Professor, in the midst of full decla- 
 mation on the platform of an evening assemblage. He 
 turned to happy use the sportive incident, and made the 
 whole auditory join in the laughter which was begun by 
 those who were cognizant of the cause of the merriment.* 
 At Bristol, in a way not so congenial to the minds of friends, 
 though not at the time clearly impressed as the forewarning 
 of coming ill, was the exhibition on the scientific stage of 
 
 * The Dodo's name recalls to memory another amusing circum- 
 stance which occurred at the Oxford meeting, where this fledgeling 
 Dodo was exhibited. In the forenoon, and in the Natural History- 
 section, a curious Tortoise, brought forward by Prince Napoleon, 
 happened to be the subject of discussion ; to which I paid due 
 attention, whilst seated at the table close to one of our most eminent 
 bishops. A few hours later I found myself seated equally near his 
 lordship, at the anniversary festival of Bethlem Hospital, with the 
 Turtle due to the occasion under quite another process of discussion. 
 He recognised the morning conjunction, and we had a pleasant 
 laugh at the oddity of the adventure which, thanks to a bounteous 
 invitation and the express train, had brought us again together on 
 the same benevolent errand. 
 
DEAN BUCKLAND. 59 
 
 the presumed action of the gigantic Dinornis. The Romish 
 miracle of Saint Medard is represented on our church walls 
 as leaving his footmarks upon the stones ; but the enthu- 
 siastic Buckland far outdid the saint in the strides he took 
 to show the spectators what creatures they must have been 
 that left such far-apart traces upon the sands (now solid 
 rocks) of the elder globe. At this meeting, symptoms of 
 injured health were manifest, insomuch that his most 
 esteemed and dearest associate* lamented the appearance, 
 and with manly tears anticipated that possible future which 
 was so grievously realized. 
 
 What shall I say of the opinion, so redolent of many 
 amusing days, which he maintained, with unflinching phi- 
 losophy and ingenious arguments, against a host of archaeo- 
 logists, that the crumbling of Roman remains in Britain 
 was principally owing to the absorption of the mortar by 
 snails, for the construction of their own habitations 1 At 
 Richborough, he upheld this doctrine with surprising 
 energy and eloquence, till half the attendant crowd believed 
 the ruins would have stood higher at this day if the Romans 
 had eaten all their snails as well as their oysters : and the 
 doctor went on to predict that Plymouth breakwater would 
 be destroyed by the same means, unless lime-consumers of 
 the snail kind were more sharply looked after ! And 
 ibproj^os of this occasion, it was curiously remarked, that 
 the Roman edible snail, poor rival of the famous Lyume, 
 and Richborough, or Rutupian oyster, was now found in 
 very few places in England, and these chiefly in the neigh- 
 bourhood of ancient Roman stations. As luxuries they are 
 no longer cultivated, and only sought as restoratives (I 
 am told, often with good effect) in consumptive cases ; 
 whilst the " natives " flourish in abundance, albeit the 
 exportation to Rome has not continued to the era of Pio 
 
 * Adam Sedgwick, " an honest man, the noblest work of God," 
 and truly admirable in all the relations of life. 
 
60 „ MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Nono, to whom the Protestant dean of Westminster would 
 not have sent even a shell. 
 
 But to more solid reminiscences of the most agreeable 
 and estimable Professor. As in agriculture, so in mining, 
 was Dr. Buckland a high authority. Prom the long-aban- 
 doned British, Phoenician, Boman, or Saxon works on the 
 rocky waste of Druidical Dartmoor, to the most recent shaft 
 sunk for tin or copper in Cornwall or Wales, he was inti- 
 mately acquainted with the bearings of the subject, and his 
 advice, founded on geological data, was of great importance. 
 And it was the same in all the branches of natural history, 
 especially in mineralogy, and the infinite varieties of 
 organized creation, from the "first syllable of recorded 
 time," to the hour at which he taught us by his oracles. It 
 was this prime faculty which made him so delightful as a 
 companion, and acted as a charm ou all ranks, from the 
 elevated statesman — like Sir Bobert Peel (who was his 
 steady friend), to the mere youthful tyro who took hammer 
 in hand to prosecute his peculiar and favourite study. 
 There was always some novel experiment, some strange 
 demonstration, some curious discovery, some remarkable 
 fact to be talked about ; and he did talk about them with 
 such a fluency of good, kindly humour, seasoned with such 
 an abundance of valuable instruction, that the hearer must 
 have been as stupid as the Dodo, who could go away with- 
 out feeling that much profit might be derived amid the 
 enjoyment of well-regulated pleasantry. I have known no 
 man superior to Dr. Buckland in the power to produce this 
 effect. Even when he condescended to play the jester a 
 little in the circus, Brutus was in those days only assuming 
 the disguise. To my sense, the character of Hamlet would 
 serve as a key to his entire career and nature ; only his was 
 mirthful and comic, whereas that of the Danish prince was 
 sad and tragical. 
 
 Alas, that the mortal close of this genial life, cherished 
 by the wise, and courted by the wealthy ; admired and 
 
DEAN BUCKLAND. 61 
 
 applauded in public, and esteemed and welcomed in private, 
 should have been enveloped in the dark clouds, which, for 
 six long and dreary years, steeped the hearts of pitying 
 friends in unavailing grief ! Yet so it was ; the inscrutable 
 decree of an overruling Providence laid the solemn lesson 
 legibly before our bedimmed eyes, and taught us, in the 
 nothingness of human aspirations, that all is vanity and 
 vexation of spirit. 
 
 I rejoice to observe from the press, that the eldest son of 
 Dr. Buck! and (whom I have met), Mr. Frank Buckland, 
 Assistant-Surgeon to the 2nd Life Guards, is distinguishing 
 himself in varied walks of science and popular demonstra- 
 tion, and in a manner that bids fair to yield him present 
 reward and lasting fame. His several " Curiosities of Na- 
 tural History " are charming books. His contributions to 
 the " Leisure Hour " I always read with pleasure, and I 
 wish they were more frequent. 
 
 I cannot conclude this sketch better than with the fol- 
 lowing interesting extract from a letter which I have 
 seen, in which Mr. Frank Buckland says, " The ' Leisure 
 Hour ' was the only publication my dear father would read 
 during his illness, and the volumes were always on his 
 table. He would look at no thins; else save the Bible." 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Mv outline summarily unfolds the likeness of Dr. Buck- 
 land, as he won his way from Axminster to Westminster. 
 It was, indeed, a pleasant travel. Few men can boast of so 
 enviable a share of human felicity. For this he also owed 
 much to his own idiosyncrasy, which was, as I have observed 
 
62 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 pre-eminently cheerful and sanguine ; and smoothed the 
 even tenor of his course, as it ran along his grateful path, 
 encouraged by fame in his favourite pursuits, and halted only 
 to refresh at welcome stations of prosperous rest, whence to 
 rove on to pastures ever new, and ever richly enjoyed. 
 
 No doubt, however, there were many toils to be under- 
 gone before the final reward of his labours was awarded ; 
 but they were lightened by the enthusiasm with which the 
 arduous Professor rode his hobby for nearly half a century 
 (1805-49), at its wonderful pace, towards the climax of 
 his fortunes. Every fresh turn seemed to give a stronger 
 impulse to his excited and partially eccentric movements. 
 The Cave of Kirkdale, and other caves, the vestiges of Moa 
 or Dodo, the antiquarian voracity of helices, in lima labor, 
 the electric or spontaneous production of Acarian life ; — no 
 matter what the data or hypothesis, our excited naturalist 
 was hotly alive to every incident, and, I fear, sometimes so 
 strangely so, that the sad coming event might have been 
 anticipated in these stimulated shadows. A prominent eye, 
 occasionally inscrutable in expression, might have been 
 noted as another indication of a sorrowful future — how 
 little thought of in the midst of the sportive vein and quasi 
 learned hilarity constantly outpouring in his conversation 
 and public addresses. "When Mr. Conybeare brought for- 
 ward his startling theory of the evolution of animals from 
 electric wires — the phenomenon of life from inorganic mat- 
 ter — the perturbation occasioned by the announcement at 
 the British Association was almost as absurd as the original 
 problem — every member was as wild as Dr. Buckland about 
 it, and the Section was crammed in half an hour to listen 
 to the facts of this miraculous discovery ! "We were all 
 crazy ; and Blake's Human Flea was, for a while, trans- 
 cended by the belief in Fleas super- Human. 
 
 Having more than once alluded to the British Associa- 
 tion, and the talent to which it has opened the way, I may 
 be excused for naming some of the individuals who distin- 
 
DEAN BUCKLAND. 63 
 
 guished themselves at the meetings I attended from the first, 
 after the initiation at York, to within the last few years. 
 From their society I have received much gratification and 
 instruction, and enrolled many of them among the men 
 with whom it has been my fortunate privilege to unite on 
 terms more or less of friendly intimacy. Some of these, 
 this popiilar institution has altogether brought forward — 
 others owe to it the theatre on which to give evidence of 
 abilities otherwise only appreciable in limited circles — all 
 are indebted to it for the promulgation of their claims and 
 the extension of their fame — whilst mutual intercourse led 
 to a community of intelligence, and helpful suggestion in 
 every various pursuit, and an acquaintance with the general 
 progress of the sciences to the present map — beyond the 
 boundaries of which it was the most useful result of these 
 meetings to ascertain. Under this brilliant catalogue I 
 designate in their specific grades, Adams, Agassiz, Airy, All- 
 mann, Audabon, Ansted, Arnott, Ball, Brewster, Brisbane, 
 Baily, Carpenter, Charlesworth, Couch, Daubeny, Dalton, 
 De la Beche, De la Rue, Fairbairn, Falconer, Faraday, 
 Forbes J. and Forbes Edward, Gassiot, Graham, Grove, 
 Hamilton, Harris, Henfrey, Herschel, Hogg, Henslow, 
 Hopkinson, Hodgkin, Hunt, Huxley, Jamieson, Jardine, 
 Johnson, Lankester, Lardner, Latham, Lindly, Lloyd 
 McCullagh, Miller, Murchison, Nasmyth, Owen, Patterson, 
 Peach, Peacock, Percy, Phillips, Playfair, Powell, Ramsay, 
 Robinson, Royle, Ronalds, Russell, Sabine, Schomburgh, 
 Scoresby, Stevelly, Stokes, Strickland, Thomj>son, Tyndal, 
 Vignoles, Wheatstone — stars of various magnitude, to illu- 
 minate the milky way of science, and shed a light upon the 
 earth. To be joined in the rank and hold converse with 
 such a legion, and some still in force, whom I may, for the 
 moment, have forgotten, was an annual treat of the highest 
 order ; and others of more recent accession, remain to 
 offer the same important opportunities, I trust, to be fol- 
 lowed throughout generations yet to come. And why 
 
64 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 should I not repeat the name of Mr. Frank Buckland, men- 
 tioned in my first sketch, and who, even within that short 
 time, has justified my prediction by his energetic lead and 
 services in the Acclimatizing Society— alas ! I know not 
 who could have descanted so jocosely upon the good things 
 in flesh, fowl, fish, and game he has introduced, as his 
 lamented father, who was, as most enlightened men are, no 
 bad judge of the Epicurean luxuries of the skilfully-covered 
 table, and also of the thorough firm, well-looking English 
 build, which reflected no discredit upon his judicious 
 nourishment. 
 
 But my narrative having misled me from solemnity and 
 the coming events which foreshadowed the end, I shall be 
 glad to conclude with a little more of our friend the Dodo, 
 which remained, for a while, a subject of much jocularity 
 among the more humorous section of the British Associa- 
 tion, known by the name of the Red Lions, who indeed 
 turned many graver things to farce. Inter alia, the fate of 
 the Dodo was chanted (as an ornithological romance, but 
 giving the true cause of its estimation) by the wittiest of the 
 set ; and at one of their social meetings, I heard the song, 
 by the lamented Edward Forbes, of its discovery and ad- 
 ventures, finishing in the verse — 
 
 " Do-do ! Our bird was no Cupid, 
 But horribly ugly, and grievously stupid ; 
 So the sailors at first, though for fun they befriended him, 
 For a taste of his gizzard 'fore long put an end to him : 
 
 Yet the do-do-do 
 Might have lived on if he could have flew ! " 
 
 And as poor Strickland's volume upon the extinct bird 
 (the Solitaire of the Mauritius) was written with a profound 
 feeling of its importance as an ornithological curiosity, 
 he was somewhat annoyed by Buckland's contumelious 
 treatment of it when addressing, as I have related, the 
 
DEAN BUCKLAND. 65 
 
 numerous evening audience from the platform. He "was 
 a fine gentlemanly fellow, however, and his revenge was 
 neither splenetic nor ill-natured. The following is the 
 retort or report, as he handed it to me : — 
 
 " The Dean of "Westminster begged to make a few 
 remarks directly bearing on the subject of the Dodo. 
 Commencing with the Dinomis, he proceeded to remark 
 that the ' Penny Cyclopaedia ' was a work of great excel- 
 lence, in proof of which he might mention that a Dr. Adams 
 had that day revealed to him the real cause of the potato 
 disease. The name of Adams reminded him of another 
 gentleman of that name, who had made some remarkable 
 calculations about the stars. A Frenchman named Le- 
 verrier had arrived at the same results by a different path, 
 and he left it to the audience to decide which of the two 
 had the greatest merit." 
 
 I have little more to add. I am afraid that in endea- 
 vouring to afford an idea of the whim of the passing hour, 
 I may have mingled more of what was fun, with what is 
 seiious, than may be thought allowable by fastidious minds ; 
 but Gay's monument in Westminster Abbey assures us that 
 Life itself is a Jest. 
 
 But, gravely speaking, Dr. Buckland's life was a life 
 pre-eminently useful. Wherever improvements were pro- 
 jected, he entered into the plans with all his energy. As 
 Dean of Westminster, the purification of the Thames, the 
 widening of streets, and the means for bettering the sani- 
 tary condition of the lower orders, obtained his earnest co- 
 operation. At Oxford, and wherever else he happened to 
 be domiciled, he displayed the same resolute perseverance 
 in promoting the general weal — he was a member of many 
 associations for the practical benefit of his fellow-creatures ; 
 and he was the recipient of many acknowledgments and 
 honours from popular and eminent institutions at home and 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 abroad. On his geological pursuits, often alone and on 
 horseback, he travelled thousands of miles, far and near; 
 and in his " Bridge water Treatise," he did his utmost to 
 make Geology and Scripture agree — a labour of love, worthy 
 alike of the geologist and the divine ! 
 
 <&'#?2<&Z> 
 
( 67 ) 
 
 WILLIAM BULLOCK, F.L.S. 
 
 NATURALIST, TRAVELLER, AND MUSEUM COLLECTOR. 
 
 WILLIAM BULLOCK raised himself from humble 
 station by the irresistible force of native energy, 
 and devoted himself to unwearying enterprise in pursuits 
 tending to promote the progress of improvements and the 
 diffusion of knowledge. Steady and persevering, calm and 
 fearless, not rash — for a man is not often rash when he is 
 not seen by anybody— his adventures were mostly hazarded 
 in' distant parts. He toiled through thirty years of arduous 
 and unremitting research, and embodied a series of exhibi- 
 tions such as no other individual in existence ever got toge- 
 ther. It is a curious proof of the stirring character of the 
 times, and the speed with which extraordinary undertakings 
 of the past are absorbed in the present, that, within some 
 thirty years, Mr. Bullock's great and most popular labours 
 are so little thought of — so slightly remembered. It is 
 enough to make us fancy that even the most useful life is 
 sometimes spent like an aimless arrow, which flies through 
 the air and leaves no trace. But it is not so ; for traces of 
 his successful exertions are to be seen and recognized in 
 every quarter around, and the Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly 
 remains to remind us of him still — si monumentum quceris, 
 circumspice. For he was the admirable pioneer to many a 
 stranger acquisition, and brought home to the sense of the 
 multitude an acquaintance with a thousand things, respect- 
 ing which an apathetic ignorance prevailed. The prototype 
 F 2 
 
68 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 of some of our most serviceable guides to various sciences, 
 it would be difficult for middle-aged or younger persons to 
 comprehend now the amount of ignorance which pervaded 
 the capital of the British empire then, when he, early in the 
 nineteenth century, commenced his instructive career. He 
 did a great deal to enlighten the busy generation, and much 
 that has been done since, and is doing, emanates from his 
 leading the way and showing the results. There is a quaint 
 piece of ancient ballad lore which says : — 
 
 " If a man could be sure 
 That his life would endure 
 For a thousand long years, 
 Like the patriarchs of old, 
 What deeds might he do ? " 
 
 and yet, we are well aware that in an unlimited number of 
 cases, he would just leave as many things undone as if he 
 died at the moderated post-diluvian period of sixty or eighty. 
 Bullock was the one in a thousand exceptions. He worked 
 hard, and seemed to have brought his task to a suitable 
 close. There were a lull and a finish to Ms manifold efforts 
 when he was taken away, and he was graciously prepared 
 for an end congenial with the beginning, and harmonious 
 with the entire course of his useful existence. 
 
 His first appeal to the public was as the head and director 
 of the Museum, principally of Natural History, at Liver- 
 pool, of which he published an able explanatory Catalogue 
 in 1808. A Companion was published at Bath in 1809, 
 and in 1812 London witnessed the third edition, and had 
 for a considerable time enjoyed the opportunity of visiting 
 the collection, then transferred to No. 22, in Piccadilly. 
 Bullock appeared to have been born a naturalist ; his dis- 
 position towards the study was enthusiastic, and he happily 
 put the epigraph to his book : — 
 
 " Oh, Nature ! how in every charm supreme ! 
 Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new." 
 
WILLIAM BULLOCK. 69 
 
 And this love is deeply implanted in the bosom of human 
 kind. From the magnificent landscape to the picturesque 
 nook, from the little garden-plot to the tiny box or pot on 
 the mechanic's window-ledge, the superb is admired and the 
 beautiful cherished by every class — by almost every one, 
 from the peer whose domain stretches over the smiling land, 
 to the sedentary artisan whose Tom Thumb geranium or 
 wall-flower cheats his labour of its irksome monotony by its 
 gaiety and perfume. 
 
 But I must not let this subject allure me from the man 
 whose ruling passion it was to investigate and study Nature 
 in every clime — to open up new sources of information in 
 its infinite fields, and bring home to the uneducated popu- 
 lation of England an interesting acquaintance with a store 
 of valuable intelligence, though only half a century ago 
 buried in darkness which the present generation, with its 
 multitude of aids, can hardly imagine possible. Yet such 
 was the actual state of the case, say in London, when the 
 year 1800 initiated a fresh birth as distinctly as if epochal 
 dates were destined to mark extraordinary revolutions in 
 human affairs. Foremost to help us on the wider path, to 
 the attractions of which increased attention had been 
 awakened, Mr. Bullock, grafting a love of adventure on his 
 love of nature, went forth on his enthusiastic travels, and 
 by his persevering efforts led the way to most of the prac- 
 tical and justly popular exhibition teachings of v the present 
 day. 
 
 Sir Astley Cooper in his lectures, when he enunciated 
 some great principle or fact, was wont to clench it to the 
 memory of his pupils, as he said, by attaching to it a ludi- 
 crous anecdote or story. For the same reason I hope I 
 may be excused for relating a fact, illustrative of the pro- 
 found ignorance which shrouded Cockaigne from any 
 insight into the science of zoology or botany. When this 
 century began, citizens lived by their shojjs and in their 
 shops. In the same very limited civic cycle they were 
 
70 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 born, married, and died. There were no railroads to hurl, 
 no steamboats to float them into the country, where they 
 might see how vegetables grew, and hear the difference of 
 sound between the neighing of a horse and the crowing of a 
 cock. The Tower, and a wild beast show at Exeter Change, 
 in the Strand, comprehended their zoology, and Covent 
 Garden and the unadorned Parks their botany — all else was 
 desert. One evening, in company, the conversation turning 
 that way, I asked a respectable warehouseman of Cheapside, 
 a fair type of his class, if he ever saw an owl. And his 
 answer was — " No, I have seen a rat and a mouse, but I 
 never saw a howl ! " Bullock dispelled this crass condition 
 of mind in everything beyond the daily routine of trade. 
 To imitations of him the public owes the most favourite and 
 instructive resorts which in our day inform, enrich, and 
 adorn the capital and the country. 
 
 His first Museum was exhibited, as stated, at No. 22, 
 Piccadilly. Up to that date there was nothing of the sort 
 to demonstrate the difference between a rat and an owl, in 
 the metropolis. The British Museum was not, in those 
 days, a place of popular resort. The Leverian Museum, in 
 the Blackfriars Bridge Road, was a most heterogeneous 
 medley of stuffed animals, without order or classification, 
 and savage costumes, weapons, and products from the Pacific 
 Ocean, or elsewhere in Asia, Africa, or America, as such 
 curiosities were picked up by adventurous navigators and 
 exploring travellers. In a visit to it a few desultory facts 
 might be gathered ; but as a means for solid or lasting 
 instruction, its miscellaneous and aimless character rendered 
 it useless. Mr. Bullock's collection was quite the reverse of 
 this — admirably preserved and scientifically arranged. 
 After three or four experimental years in its original 
 locality, it was transported to the Egyptian Hall, then 
 finished for its reception, and not fewer than 32,000 sub- 
 jects of animated nature were skilfully grouped and conve- 
 niently displayed within its walls. The town was absolutely 
 
WILLIAM BULLOCK. 71 
 
 astonished by the individual acquisition of so vast and 
 marvellous a treasure, and crowds soon availed themselves 
 of the privilege of reading its lessons — if not exactly of 
 philosophy in sport, at any rate of ample intelligence in 
 amusement. In one department were seen the quadrupeds, 
 as natural as life, and as they would appear in a real Indian 
 forest, with its rocks, caverns, trees, and all other adjuncts 
 congenial to their habits and habitats. In another division, 
 3,000 birds were set up with similar accuracy, and attended 
 by well-selected accessories, so as to afford sufficient ideas of 
 their motions, food, and mode of feeding, and peculiarities 
 of every description — from eagles to humming-birds (of the 
 latter of which there were ninety distinct species) ; and, in- 
 cluding the collection made by Captain Cook and Sir 
 Joseph Banks, the whole were so perfect in plumage and 
 disposition, that the aviary, if it might so be called, pre- 
 sented a scene of wonderful beauty to the eye. Unwillingly 
 the spectator turned from it, to inspect the numerous am- 
 phibious creatures in a third spacious room ; but these, 
 again, were found to be so remarkable, that the attractions 
 of the fishes, the insects, the marine productions, could 
 scarcely wile the visitor away to contemplate their various 
 structure, clearly indicated action, and striking life-like 
 appearance. The fossil remains of a former world wound 
 up a spectacle of a most comprehensive character, unprece- 
 dented novelty, and unexampled utility. An able Cata- 
 logue, followed, as accessions of subjects were added, by an 
 equally able Appendix, conveyed the information requisite 
 for the beneficial study of the several branches of natural- 
 science here so perseveringly brought together, so admi- 
 rably arranged according to the best authorities, and so 
 copiously illustrated. When embellished by Howitt, in a 
 manner little, if at all, inferior to the famous Bewick, these 
 Catalogues sold at 15s. plain, and 25s. coloured; and in the 
 year 1812, the " Companion to the Museum" had reached 
 a twelfth edition, so great had been the growth of public 
 
72 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 curiosity ; and the proprietor of the Egyptian Hall had 
 expended £55,000 on his labours, and the appropriate 
 building to receive their results. Fifteen thousand subjects 
 of natural history and foreign curiosities were described in 
 this Companion, and, to use a now very familiar phrase, the 
 " diffusion of useful knowledge " commenced over the land 
 on a scale hitherto undreamed of. No "Vigors, with plans 
 for a Zoological Gardens, was then in sight. ELew Gardens 
 were shut, except to royal permissions, and Chiswick horti- 
 cultural flora had not sprung from the ground. The 
 Colosseum was unbuilt ; the Botanic Gardens were unin- 
 closed waste ; the Crystal Palace a nonentity ; the Poly- 
 technic nowhere ; the National Gallery in almost a similar 
 condition, in a nucleus at Angerstein's private residence in 
 Pall Mall. The Great Globe had not commenced its revo- 
 lutions to the hammer in Leicester Square, and the 
 Brompton establishment for the propagation of universal 
 intelligence only loomed in a distance which no imagination 
 had conceived nor any telescope reached. 
 
 William Bullock initiated all this progress, not only in 
 the aggregate, but in kind. One day a whale would stretch 
 across the street, and interrupt the thoroughfare for a 
 morning, before it could be deposited in the interior for 
 anatomical dissection. At another time, Icelandic goats, 
 silken as cashmere ; and anon a Shetland pony, so small as 
 to find abundant room for travelling in a hackney coach. 
 Nothing deserving of public notice seemed to escape him, 
 and neither toil nor expense was spared to procure what is 
 now more boastfully and profitably paraded as " Informa- 
 tion for the People." The Crystal Palace is in great mea- 
 sure the old Egyptian Hall on an enlarged scale — started 
 by a subscription company, under immense patronage, and 
 not the splendid idea wrought out by the energy of a single 
 man; for he might exclaim, with Coriolanus, "Alone I did 
 it ! " He, too, had his subscription of ten guineas, his 
 annual guinea admission fee, and his entrance at one shil- 
 
WILLIAM BULLOCK. 73 
 
 ling — this last a price which his experience confirmed him 
 in statiug was much more remunerative than any higher 
 amount. He, too, had a picture gallery, in which paint- 
 ings, and all other works of art ; exposed, were hung for a 
 year for sale without cost, and with only a small per cent- 
 age charged on what were sold. Even the modern aquarium 
 was anticipated under a bell-glass, over the water inhabited 
 by tiny crabs and other "monsters" of the deep; albeit 
 anemones were not yet thought of, nor polypes, nor asteria, 
 held in captivity. The combination of so many particulars 
 is really so wonderful, that when we reflect upon it, we are 
 ready to exclaim, " There is nothing new under the sun ! " 
 True ; and to his honour be it stated, he had neither 
 Blondins, Leotards, nor other sensation shows, wherewith 
 to attract the vulgar. 
 
 After resting from his journey to the Hebrides, and la- 
 borious and occasionally dangerous acquisitions there, of 
 a number of his admirably preserved birds, Mr. Bullock 
 took a voyage up the Baltic and visited and explored Nor- 
 way. Thence he brought home specimens of the magnifi- 
 cent deer called Wapiti, and distributed them in quarters 
 where the breed might be acclimatized and perpetuated. 
 They lived for some time in extensive parks, but I am not 
 aware whether they have bred, or remain in the country. 
 Hei^e again he was the prototype of our Acclimatizing 
 Society. He also brought with him, and exhibited, a 
 family of Laplanders, or Lapps, one of the most diminutive 
 of the Mongolian group of the human race. They are said 
 to be suspicious, but in their London sojourn seemed simply 
 lost in wonder at everything they heard or saw. Their 
 tastes were singular. Taken one evening to the theatre, 
 for instance, when the orchestra were tuning their instru- 
 ments in mingled discords, their admiration broke through 
 all bounds, and they burst into cries of rapturous applause. 
 How they will enjoy the music ! was the impression of their 
 conductors. Not a whit. From the moment the overture 
 
74 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 began, till it ended, their disappointment was extreme ; 
 and the interpreter explained that they only wanted to 
 encore the tuning. They were sent back to their native 
 land, wiser, richer, and happier than any Lapps had been 
 since their earliest migration. 
 
 I may pause here, to point to the busy and industrious 
 occupation of his time, by this ingenious benefactor of his 
 fellow creatures. There was nothing too arduous for his 
 grasp ; nothing too exhaustive for his perseverance. His 
 constant design, as I have said, was the " spread of useful 
 knowledge." What he had enjoyed himself, he provided as 
 a domain of rational enjoyment for others. He was well 
 aware that — 
 
 " A thousand racks, a thousand wheels, 
 In shape of easy chairs, pursue 
 The wretch who knows not what to do." 
 
 He stuck to the honest ancient adage, " The idle person is 
 every man's property — the devil tempts industrious people, 
 but idle people tempt the devil." By precept and example 
 his whole life taught the opposite lesson, and widely sup- 
 plied materials for realizing the benevolent purpose. 
 
 Succeeding the undertakings already mentioned, his next 
 important expedition was to Mexico, in 1823, and he 
 returned as usual laden with spoils more various and 
 voluminous than ever Cortez sent to Spain. The Egyptian 
 Hall was fitted up to represent the grand Temple of Monte- 
 zuma ; and the antiquities found under its ruins in the 
 great Square of the City were restored, as faithfully as pos- 
 sible, to their original sites. Frightful divinities glared on 
 assemblages of curious visitors, the youngest of whom felt 
 no terror at the awful aspect which had inspired super- 
 stitious millions with dread and horror. The infernal 
 goddess Teoamique was conspicuous, with all her horrible 
 attributes — the images, as they were, stained with the 
 blood of human sacrifices, and adorned with necklaces of 
 
WILLIAM BULLOCK. 75 
 
 human skulls. Of this monstrous worship, hecatombs of 
 proofs were exhumed from the prodigious charnel-house of 
 skeletons innumerable. Among the rest was the grizzly- 
 God of War, to whom the conquering Mexicans were seen 
 dragging their prisoners to be slaughtered ; and many 
 shapeless idols, statues, and paintings, which really appeared 
 to set the Mexico of three centuries ago before the eyes of 
 the English crowds. But these comprised only a compo- 
 nent portion of this memorable exhibition. Weapons, 
 utensils, produce, fauna and flora, toys and hieroglyphics 
 swelled the list, till nothing seemed wanting to complete 
 the exhibition of the modern as well as of the ancient 
 American country. In 1824, Mr. Bullock published in a 
 goodly volume his " Account of Six Months in Mexico ; " 
 and never did six months in a strange land afford evidence 
 of having been so diligently and sagaciously employed. It 
 may be remembered that Mexico was much shut up from 
 foreign intercourse, till the new relations were at this period 
 established, of which the author, with his accustomed 
 intrepidity, took advantage to hasten thither and be the 
 foremost to reap the fertile field. This work gives a vivid 
 idea of the extraordinary talent for observation which his 
 constant pursuits had raised to the highest pitch. At 
 Xalapa, high mass with its gorgeous trappings and religious 
 procession, with all its semi-pagan formalities, are delineated 
 with the pen of a practised literary artist. At Chollula, 
 and among its pyramids, the traces of the more ancient 
 idolatry remaining are explored with the zeal of an anti- 
 quary. The city of Mexico, still splendid with its churches, 
 palaces, markets, botanic gardens, trading, costumes, and 
 pawn-shops (on the principle of the Monts de Piete, in 
 Paris), is illustrated with graphic skill ; and around, and in 
 the country, the animals, the mines, the antiquities, and, in 
 fact, every object worthy of note, is brought forward, 
 described, and discussed with a clear-sighted comprehensive- 
 ness akin to a Humboldt. An excursion round the Lake 
 
76 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 of Tezcuco, the picture of an Indian fete (remarkable as an 
 illustration of native character and manners) at Tilotopec, 
 and an account of a public execution, used as the text for 
 a sermon, in which the moral and religious lesson taught by 
 the dismal tragedy was forcibly impressed upon the multi- 
 tude by the attendant priest, are all instances of the author's 
 versatile capacity for adding other stores of general infor- 
 mation to those he furnished from his superior gift as an 
 indefatigable naturalist. The exhibition he was so success- 
 ful in forming, long presented to the view of old and young 
 a miniature Mexico in the heart of London. It was so 
 complete, that George Canning, in the playfulness of his 
 wit, expressed a hope that the consuls he was despatching 
 to the New World might possess half the information 
 Bullock's Museum could afford them. 
 
 The same spirit of fear which made the crocodile an object 
 of worship among the ancient Egyptians, made the great boas 
 to be regarded as deities by the inhabitants of Mexico. 
 Peter Martyr tells of an enormous serpent-idol, which the 
 Spaniards found at Campechy, " compacted of bitumen and 
 small stones incorporated together, which was seven and 
 fortie feete in length, and as thicke as a great oxe ; " and 
 Bullock tells of a similar idol almost perfect, and of fine 
 workmanship, which is represented in the act of swallowing 
 a human victim, already crushed and struggling in his 
 horrid jaws. 
 
 Mr. Bullock's last travels were performed in 1827, in a 
 long "Journey through the Western States of America," of 
 which he also pu Wished a " Sketch." Ohio was then in its 
 birth, and Cincinnati being framed at that period, the book 
 offered valuable guidance for settlers ; but such changes 
 have since taken place, that we may dismiss the question as 
 belonging to a former world, and look upon the living po- 
 pulation as a different order of beings from that which was 
 clearing the region for the abode of peaceful man, instead 
 of deluging it with his blood in horrible civil war. From 
 
WILLIAM BULLOCK. 77 
 
 some unexpected place, however, he brought a considerable 
 collection of old pictures, which turned out to be of less 
 value than he thought. They were chiefly sacred subjects 
 of second or third rate artists, of the Spanish school, and 
 had probably found their way from some plundering in the 
 Spanish colonies. 
 
 I had almost forgotten in the list of his popiilar exhibi- 
 tion to mention that of Bonaparte's carriage, with its 
 fittings and conveniences, exactly as he abandoned it on his 
 flight from Waterloo, and even the coachman who drove it. 
 The expense was heavy ; but so much more prevalent is 
 the mania to see things of this kind — linked, it may be, to 
 exalted personages or mighty historical events — than to 
 examine into the arcana of knowledge, however useful, that 
 the show of the Emperor's paraphernalia turned out to be 
 the most lucrative concern in which the speculator ever 
 embarked. 
 
 And yet he had expatiated over a wide and fruitful realm, 
 and pioneered, as I have related, the way to the majority of 
 the public exhibitions now existing for the* obvious and 
 ready edification of the people. This was a useful work, 
 and the memory of the man who achieved it ought never to 
 be forgotten by a grateful country. By a succession of judi- 
 cious exhibitions, he invited attention to, and illustrated, a 
 mass of neglected intelligence, pleasingly interesting to the 
 mind, and materially useful in everyday avocations. Truly 
 it was from first to last miscellaneous ; but none the worse 
 that, year after year, it mingled contributions to a compe- 
 tent understanding of what the great South Sea produced 
 ■ — of the condition of the Americas, South and North — of 
 African and Scandinavian realities and remains — of ar- 
 moury and arms, ancient, foreign, and mediaeval — of the 
 fine arts — and of almost an ark of natural history — beasts, 
 birds, reptiles, insects, not to mention fishes, marine pro- 
 ductions, minerals — altogether a Cosmos for the improve- 
 ment of the age, and an example, as we have seen, and are 
 
78 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 happy to see, energetically followed. To enhance his ser- 
 vices, Mr. Bullock published a " Concise and Easy Method 
 of Preserving Subjects of Natural History;" an excellent 
 treatise, within a very small compass — the result of exten- 
 sive experience, and set far above criticism by the beautiful 
 style in which he demonstrated its application to every 
 species of animal existence. He was elected a Member of 
 the Linnsean Society, then presided over by Sir Joseph 
 Banks, and a more deserving associate never adorned its 
 ranks ; and he was as modest as he was overflowing with 
 information. He felt what even a Newton expressed, iu its 
 fullest force : "To myself I seem to have been as a child 
 playing on the seashore, while the immense ocean of Truth 
 lay unexplored before me." 
 
 In bearing he was quiet ; in manners simple. In con- 
 versation he was frankly communicative, and in all speech 
 and action straightforward and unreserved. Gentleness and 
 courage — a singular repose and temperance in the midst of 
 utmost efforts and of daring enterprises — were finely com- 
 bined in his organism — a marvel of blended coolness and 
 irrepressible ardour. He was indeed a man of rare quali- 
 ties, of great industry and perseverance, of high aim and 
 honourable accomplishment. No humble or middle-class 
 man, aspiring to raise himself above his sphere by honest 
 exertion, the cultivation of his faculties, and the right 
 exercise of the powers with which God has endowed him, 
 could set before his mind's steadfast eye a worthier model 
 than William Bullock. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Notwithstanding its defects, I hardly know any kind 
 of reading more useful and instructive than biography, 
 and, at the same time, more amusing and interesting. 
 
WILLIAM BULLOCK. 79 
 
 Even in an Individual, such as I have here so slightly 
 portrayed, the Moral Essay is impersonated, and aug- 
 ments in force and application as it realizes precept in 
 action. History is a grand teacher to the multitude, to 
 nations, to people ; and generation after generation may 
 and ought to gather most important lessons from its re- 
 cords of the past — for men cease not to be men, and suc- 
 ceeding ages produce the same phenomena, only modified, — 
 the acquisition of new intelligences and consequent changes 
 in ideas, habits, and manners. History, however, is but 
 biography generalized, and far more liable to erroneous 
 reasoning and mistaken inferences. For you cannot observe 
 so distinctly what are the causes of historical events, or 
 what happens in a crowd ; as you can discern what actuates 
 a single person, and what that person does. No doubt 
 both are subject to misconstruction : for none can trace the 
 hidden motives of others to their roots, or be sure that they 
 do not impute to one source what may spring from another 
 entirely opposite. We can but divine from the natural 
 sequence of cause and effect, or merely guess — and in truth 
 mere guess-work is only too prevalent in all that we hear of, 
 even in regard to facts, not to speak of the explanations and 
 deductions, in the cognate relations of biography and his- 
 tory. Yet this should not discourage us from their study. 
 Both supply abundance of that information which it is good 
 for man to acquire ; and the more deeply he penetrates the 
 profound of either, the more will he discover valuable guides 
 for his private or public life. And as he is called upon to 
 exercise all his perceptions and powers continually in the 
 former, and only occasionally, as circumstances may require, 
 in the latter, so is biography a branch of reading for the 
 institute or middle-class library more universally, imme- 
 diately, and profitably employed, than the very highest 
 philosophical grade of history. With all its research and 
 labour, the latter may be taken as a beneficial text-book for 
 rulers and statesmen, and other great political denizens of 
 
80 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the earth ; but it contains few elements to bear with appli- 
 cable influence on the conduct of every-day and common 
 life. On the other hand, biography offers, as it were, a 
 concentration of precept and example. Rightly followed in 
 what regards our sacred duties, our domestic trusts, our 
 neighbourly brotherhood, our self-approval — it holds the 
 mirror up to nature, and happy is he upon whom it reflects 
 images of conscious honesty of purpose and consoling peace 
 of mind, to sustain and support him amid the trials and 
 troubles of the world. "We can see, handle, and appreciate 
 the dozen bricks within our ken ; can tell what they are 
 made of, and what they are fit for, and thence can form a 
 tolerable notion of the edifices in whose construction they 
 (and their likes) are moulded to form a fitting chief part ; 
 and so, from the near contemplation and analysis of our 
 fellow creatures, we are enabled to elicit a fairly approxi- 
 mate idea of the materials, the how, by what means, and in 
 what manner the stupendous edifices of the moral and social 
 systems of mankind may be best built up. Worth, virtue, 
 industry, patience, and content, are as sure of their reward, 
 as it is sure there is a heaven above the earth ; and, if their 
 recompense may possibly be of a kind not to be outwardly 
 obvious, we may rest assured that their consolation abounds 
 in that heaven far above the storms which agitate and the 
 afflictions which weigh down humanity. True it is that the 
 best " come like shadows, so depart," and leave but a brief 
 momentary impress on the future ; but that moment is 
 precious — 
 
 " Only the actions of the just 
 Smell sweet and blossom in the dust ; " 
 
 and if the memory of the lowly pass speedily away after 
 death — nay, if they may be even when in life neglected, it 
 is no less certain that the lofty make but faint impress upon 
 the " spectrum " of their age, and are as soon forgotten as 
 the humblest, when they drop from their sphere into the 
 
WILLIAM BULLOCK. 81 
 
 oblivious grave. After all, the great aggregate is but a 
 panorama of fact and fiction ; and it is well to endeavour 
 after a clear knowledge of the facts, so as to gird up our 
 loins like men, and not to be — 
 
 " To all an example ; to no one a pattern ! " 
 
 The choice of Hercules is before us all. The weakest has as 
 much at stake as the strongest ; and it seems good to look at 
 instances, where the right course has been run, as in the 
 active, enterprising career I have so imperfectly described. 
 
 And yet I have hardly a note to add to it, beyond what 
 may be, I hope, pardoned as my apology for attempting so 
 valuable a class of literature, with so insufficient an ability 
 to do it justice. Even with my intimate cognizance of Mr. 
 Bullock's undertakings from the arctic regions to the tropics, 
 his gallant exploration of distant lands from Norway to 
 Mexico, and the trophies of his conquests, with which he 
 came laden home, I am sensible how feebly I have painted 
 the picture they deserve. And when I reflect on the fact 
 that my other endeavours may be weighed by the same 
 critical scale, I shrink from the sense of my work, and can 
 only urge that its pretensions are modest. On looking back, 
 I am aware that I have forgotten many things. I have 
 forgotten the measures of the pony my friend brought me 
 from Shetland, but it was the smallest ever seen, and trans- 
 formed me, for the nonce, into a showman, as I brought it 
 in a hackney coach, with its head out of the window, from 
 "Wapping Old Stairs, all through the city and up Piccadilly 
 to Hyde Park Corner. A groom could carry it easily in 
 his arms, and, though thicker, it was not so high as a 
 famous "little horse" publicly exhibited about the same 
 period. A very diminutive Lapland goat I had as a pet 
 was also extraordinary for the length and fineness of its 
 hair — it was the Cashmere of the Capri, and I am not clear 
 that the breed might not be cultivated with advantage for 
 
 a 
 
82 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the manufacture of some novel fashionable fabric of Bel- 
 gravian dress ! But of all Bullock's importations that (as I 
 have mentioned) of Napoleon's carriage, with its contents 
 and coachman, was by far the most remunerative of his 
 ventures, though obtained at a very exorbitant price. And 
 it is one of the remarkable circumstances which are so fre- 
 quently misconstrued by superstition, that he not only felt 
 a sure presage that such would be the case, but all his life 
 entertained an opinion that his destiny was, in some mys- 
 terious way, linked with that of Buonaparte, and that they 
 would somehow proceed and culminate together ! 
 
 You see, my reader, that there is just enough in the 
 reality for the supernatural interpretation of such prophetic 
 visions ; and I can only wish that yours may be no less 
 agreeably fulfilled. 
 
 Mr. Bullock's courage was unquenchable. He set out on 
 the most adventurous undertakings without a fear of the 
 toil and danger. His heart was as light on proceeding on a 
 perilous journey and travels in little known regions, as if 
 he were hiring a conveyance to take him from the Egyptian 
 Hall to Brompton, to show me some new animal, plant, or 
 picture (for he collected everything) ; and on the eve of bis 
 departure on one of his most extensive expeditions in 
 March, 1825, I received the following hurried adieu : — 
 
 " Dr. Sir, — I have this day sold my premises here, and am 
 preparing with my Family to quit Europe, being condemned 
 to the mines. Do preach a funeral sermon for yours faith- 
 fully, W. Bullock." 
 I lament to have to preach it even now ! 
 
 /Z/v<*^rr su^c^ty &fa-**-£<y 
 
( 83 ) 
 
 BISHOP BURGESS. 
 
 THOMAS BURGESS, the son of a grocer in an incon- 
 siderable Hampshire town, was born some few years 
 after the middle of last century. He made such valuable 
 use of the education procured for him at Winchester by his 
 father, that he headed his class and gained an Oxford scholar- 
 ship. Carrying his studious habits, as well as the distinc- 
 tions of that excellent seminary, with him to the university, 
 he wrought steadily and progressively, nulla dies sine lined, 
 ever adding to his store of knowledge and to the estimation 
 that rewarded his devotedness. 
 
 The love of learning is an inestimable blessing. The • 
 calm enjoyment which attends it, is paramount to many of 
 the stronger and more coveted excitements of human seeking. 
 Nor must it be deemed monotonous and wearisome. On 
 the contrary, it is full of diversity — more comprehensive 
 and various than almost any other pursuit in life, and not 
 without its stirring elements in the making of new dis- 
 coveries, the exposure and discomfiture of error, and the 
 defence of controverted truths and just opinions. 
 
 College honours and responsible appointments followed 
 close upon the demonstration of pre-eminent scholarship and 
 exemplary conduct. The Church welcomely adopted so 
 worthy a disciple, and he gradually rose to merited prefer- 
 ment and exalted station. And, as he had shone in his 
 upward track, so did he shine only the more brightly after 
 he had reached its zenith. Works of high classic interest, 
 G 2 
 
84 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 works of solid and instructive literature, works of erudite 
 theological and pure religious reasoning, alike remarkable 
 for judgment and piety, flowed rapidly from his diligent 
 pen. Where the mitre first adorned his brow, he was 
 indeed the schoolmaster abroad ; but, fortunately, his 
 "Abroad " was not a panoptic or dissolving vision, but a 
 real view of Home. His teaching consisted of a benevo- 
 lent, zealous, and truly Christian labour, within the sphere 
 of his diocese, to enlarge the qualification of those who 
 taught, and enable them, in the native Welsh language, to 
 bring moral edification and gospel truth home to the under- 
 standing and hearts of every living soul committed to the 
 guidance of his sacred ministry. He knew by intuition, as 
 well as by cultivated sense, that an unknown tongue could 
 never diffuse either virtue or true religion ; and he took the 
 course directly opposite to the erratic path of fanaticism 
 and delusion. Here he might say, Exegi monumentum — 
 I have founded Lampeter College for the benefit of souls 
 and the glory of God. 
 
 To have seen such a man is a grateful remembrance ; to 
 know him was a happiness ; and to be enabled to bear 
 testimony to his sterling worth, a delight — a delight which 
 seems to breathe and partake something of his spirit. 
 Translated to a more extended charge, he was soon after 
 commissioned by his sovereign to lay the foundation of an 
 institution for the encouragement of sterling literature ; 
 and he performed the arduous and difficult task with all the 
 patience, perseverance, and amenity which its novel means 
 and purpose demanded. There never yet was a beneficent 
 design, nor a noble object contemplated, which did not pro- 
 voke opposition ; and the proposed plan of the Royal 
 Society of Literature was no exception to the rule. On 
 the contrary, prejudice or envy was very active and very 
 troublesome. 
 
 Turning from this, however, his last important public 
 service, I will venture to enter into the peaceful circle of 
 
BISHOP BURGESS. 85 
 
 his private life, and copy thence an exemplary trait. If 
 ever there was a being without guile, he was the impersona- 
 tion of that transparent spirit. His very nature was truth 
 and simplicity — simplicity and truth. Philosophic in secular 
 calmness, ardent in Christian duty, there was a modest charm 
 in his piety and a holy warmth in his zeal. Between both, 
 his charity was an ever-moving principle ; he was the pro- 
 moter of every useful work, and the friend of the poor. 
 Deeds, not words, were his witnesses. I (the writer of this 
 unflattering tribute) brought under his notice the pitiable 
 situation of a clergyman, with a numerous family, reduced 
 to peril and ruin by an accident with which he had no 
 earthly concern ; it was late in the year, but the good 
 Samaritan, showing by his memoranda that he had already 
 gone beyond the liberal annual amount he always appro- 
 priated to works of mercy, placed a bounteous sum at my 
 disposal, with the touching remark, if less were needed in 
 this instance, to save something for other claimants ; if more, 
 to apply to him again. He had the gratification to learn 
 that (with other aid) his succour was enough, and did restore 
 a godly man, crushed by fortuitous calamity, to the condi- 
 tion which he then and thereafter adorned. What could 
 panegyric say, when such acts speak ! I will not try the 
 tinkling of so weak a cymbal, where there Avas nothing to 
 celebrate but what should make the whole world kin to the 
 venerable and saintly Thomas Burgess, Bishop of St. David's, 
 and ultimately of Salisbury. 
 
 The bishop's personal appearance was exceedingly pre- 
 possessing, and his fine features the most expressive of the 
 character of benevolence that could be imagined by painter 
 or sculptor. 
 
86 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 The most memorable act in the life of this learned prelate 
 and virtuous man, was the foundation of the Royal Society 
 of Literature, a work committed to his charge by His 
 Majesty King George IV., whose liberal patronage of 
 letters had been previously exemplified by his royal sup- 
 port of the Literary Fund. The Bishop (then of St. 
 David's) addressed himself to the task assigned to him 
 with congenial feeling "for the (purposed) encouragement, 
 as at first stated, of indigent merit, and the promotion of 
 general literature ; " and proceeded to form the association, 
 adopting, on the whole, the plan of the French " A cademie 
 des Inscriptions et 'Belles Lettres," and thus limiting its 
 view to general literature, and leaving science, the fine 
 arts, and archasology to their specific centres — the Royal 
 Society, the Society for the Encouragement of the Arts, 
 and the Society of Antiquaries. The King from the begin- 
 ning took great interest in the design, and manifested it by 
 the munificent donation of a thousand guineas a year, to be 
 granted in acknowledgments of a hundred guineas to each 
 of ten Associates, distinguished by their literary labours ; 
 and the award of two golden medals of the value of fifty 
 guineas each to two authors of particular distinction at the 
 period. I should state that the original suggestion of such 
 a national institution came from the bishop himself, and 
 was reported to His Majesty, who so cordially responded to 
 it, and that its main objects were briefly defined to be — to 
 reward literary merit, and to excite literary talent. His 
 Grace gathered around him by degrees a provisional com- 
 mittee, including persons eminent in Church and State, and 
 the adherence of princes, peers, authors, and friends in every 
 class, seemed to insure the ready establishment and future 
 success of the undertaking. But the organization of public 
 projects, and especially of such scope and magnitude as this, 
 
BISHOP BURGESS. 87 
 
 are by no means matters of easy routine to accomplish. On 
 the contrary, progress was onerous and tedious, and, it may 
 be added, even invidiously hindered. For, as usual, there was 
 plenty of cavil, and a considerable outside crop of doubts and 
 opposition. So strong were these obstacles that the proceed- 
 ings were much impeded, and the design more than once on 
 the verge of being abandoned. Many meetings (seldom per- 
 sistent, because most irregularly attended) considered and 
 reconsidered, agreed to and altered resolutions, did and 
 undid, as chance and almost stranger majorities dropped in, 
 wanted explanations, brought forward objections (suggested 
 from without), and interfered so far as to procrastinate action 
 till all seemed chaos. At last, however, the real workers at 
 the needful work determined not to die and make no sign, 
 and issued a notice for a prize of fifty guineas to be given 
 for the best poem on " Dartmoor," which was won by the 
 charming poetess Mrs. Hemans.* Still the difficulties to be 
 surmounted were so numerous, so Hydra-like, and so largely 
 inflated as to seem insuperable. Adversaries argued that 
 all institutions of the kind were injurious rather than 
 fostering to the cause they espoused, and that Dr. Johnson 
 was right in his opinion that the public or the publisher 
 was the best patron of literature. At one meeting, a 
 prelate of high standing, Bishop Majendie, of Bangor, 
 attended simply, as it would appear, to suggest that the 
 Two Golden Medals were sufficient for all that was desired 
 or desirable. At another, the intelligence would be com- 
 municated that the Secretary of State for the Home 
 Department, Lord Sidmouth, prompted by Sir Walter 
 Scott, had declared hostilities against the measure. The 
 
 * Two other prizes were advertised, one of a hundred guineas for 
 the best essay on the genius of Homer, and twenty-five guineas for 
 the best paper on the History of Greece. For the first the compe- 
 tition was not of a character to warrant adjudication ; and the last 
 was not carried into effect, but Mrs. Hemans wrote a. poem on the 
 subject which was published by Murray. 
 
OO MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 King had to be approached, to learn if his Government 
 was inimical or not ; and, as I was informed, His Ma- 
 jesty's reply was to the effect, " Go on !" at the same time 
 intimating that Sir Walter might perhaps be cool towards a 
 design where he was not a leader.* Still the worthy bishop 
 felt baffled in his operations, and tempted to resign his 
 troublesome office ; but being, at last, quite re-assured by 
 the more sanguine members of his committee, and especially 
 aided in the right direction by several who happened to have 
 access (among whom I may mention the present Bishop of 
 Winchester) to the highest quarter, his troubles were over- 
 come, and the Royal Society of Literature was established 
 under the Presidency of the learned Bishop of St. David's. 
 Ten distinguished writers were in due time elected by the 
 council for the annual testimony to their high deserts ; and, 
 when I have recorded their names, I think it will be agreed 
 that this alone afforded sterling proof of the great practical 
 value and excellence of the institution : — Coleridge, Rev. E. 
 Davies {Celtic Researches, &c.f), Dr. Jamieson (Scottish 
 Etymologist), Malthus, Matthias, Millengen, Sir W. 
 Ouseley, Roscoe, Todd (editor of Johnson's Dictionary), 
 and Sharon Turner. 
 
 I have only to add that the Society went on with in- 
 creasing prosperity and efficacy till the death of its royal 
 founder, when his munificent contribution ceased ; his suc- 
 cessor, William IV., intimating that his Privy Purse, with 
 the irresistible claims upon it, could not spare the drain of 
 the eleven hundred guineas a yeai, with which it was 
 charged. £ 
 
 * Sir Walter afterwards had one of the medals awarded to him, 
 and was duly sensible of the honour. 
 
 f Mr. Davies was a most abstemious person, but by an error of 
 the press in printing theBeport, he was set down, and recommended, 
 to the Bishop's great amusement, as the author of " Cellar 
 Eesearches." 
 
 % To the honour of Lord Melbourne, I may state that, feeling how 
 sensibly this unforeseen stoppage of what had been reckoned upon 
 
BISHOP BURGESS. 
 
 89 
 
 In the delightful repose of Abergwilly, I afterwards en- 
 joyed the pleasure of witnessing the contrast to the worry 
 in building and launching the Royal Society of Literature, 
 and becoming better acquainted with the scholarly attain- 
 ments, generous humanity, and liberal charities which 
 adorned this pious prelate, and inspired me with a warm 
 attachment to him. It was true that my learning did not 
 enable me to master the idea of the Greek digamma being 
 equal to the Hottentot " click" — in short, I could resolve 
 neither into spelling in the English tongue, and gave them 
 up to the mother of the chickens ! Nor did I take deep 
 interest in the bishop's opinions concerning Milton, which, 
 by the way, were confuted by the after discovery and publi- 
 cation of his posthumous work. Only I saw enough of him 
 to convince me that he was a shining ornament to the 
 Church, and an honour to human nature. 
 
 as a certain income for life, would affect the condition of some of the 
 recipients, commissioned his private secretary, Mr. William Cowper, 
 to confer with me, and get what information I could supply on the 
 subject ; and the result was the transfer of four names (out of the 
 ten) for the same amount to the Civil List. 
 
 > ? 
 
 *£^&- ~X> 
 
( 90 ) 
 
 THOMAS CAMPBELL. 
 
 THE Bard of Hope ! Hope told a flattering tale, in the 
 year 1799, when her music was young, and Thomas 
 Campbell was her minstrel. Burns was dead, and Edin- 
 burgh was awaking to a stirring spirit of political activity 
 and literary enterprise. Agreement in opinion with the 
 rising liberals was a strong recommendation, and the young 
 poet burst upon the public under the most favourable aus- 
 pices. The success of " The Pleasures of Hope " was 
 eminent and immediate. The applause it received was 
 vociferous, and the press throughout the land echoed and 
 re-echoed the shouts of its leading admirers. Well was it 
 for the author that its intrinsic merits justified the appro- 
 bation of sound criticism, and substantiated the claim of the 
 poet to lofty renown ; for the first ferment was exceedingly 
 dangerous, and, being over-wrought, must have been fatal, 
 had there not been genuine stamina to sustain all but the 
 exaggeration. 
 
 Campbell has had two biographers ; the one a warm 
 friend,""' who did little more than indicate certain leading 
 features in his character, enumerate his writings, and 
 describe his mortal sickness and death ; the other, an ami- 
 cable associate in several literary relations, yet so earnestly 
 bound to impartiality that he appears to have done some 
 
 * Dr. William Beattie, the author of several beautifully illus- 
 trated volumes. 
 
THOMAS CAMPBELL. 91 
 
 injustice to his subject. For he suggests that he was often 
 so abstracted as to need a flapper ; that he was vain, and 
 entertained too much of the amour propre ; and that latterly 
 he was wayward, irresolute, and reckless. Without allow- 
 ing any latitude to genius in regard to moral blemishes, as 
 some have been disposed to do, it is only fair to take into 
 account the physical ailments too often accompanying over- 
 wrought mental powers. 
 
 " Great wit to madness nearly is allied." 
 
 And the poor poet's brain occasionally vibrated with that 
 eccentricity between which and a fearful affliction there 
 was, then temporarily, but a narrow ledge. In his later 
 years, also, the imperfections imputed by his biographers 
 could be traced to the same cause. When excited by his 
 feelings, he was so easily affected by even a small quantity 
 of wine, that both at private tables and public gatherings 
 he laid himself open to the ridiculous suspicion of imbecility, 
 or the graver imputation of habitual drunkenness. The 
 latter was as unfounded a charge as the former : innocent 
 causes, mental and physical, produced the appearances which 
 misled casual observers. Those who intimately knew Camp- 
 bell, understood this. 
 
 Generally speaking, I would say that in character, and 
 more in conversation and behaviour, he bore a considerable 
 resemblance, in degree, to what we gather of Goldsmith from 
 contemporaneous notices. There was frequently an approxi- 
 mation of the sterling and the absurd : the noble sentiment 
 and the puerile conceit alternated. Common sense occa- 
 sionally waited upon imagination ; but it was sometimes 
 more annoying to find imaginativeness kicking common 
 sense out of company. He was altogether a curious medley. 
 In appearance he was almost boyish, with regular features, 
 and a pleasing countenance. He spoke with a marked 
 Scotch accent, which added a zest, allied to humour, to the 
 amusing anecdotes and stories which he told so well. When 
 
92 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 in this facetious mood, there was a roguish twinkle in his 
 eye ; and you could hardly conceive the touching and 
 impressive poet to be hid behind the mantling smile and 
 genial chuckle. 
 
 I have mentioned Campbell's personal appearance : it 
 was very boyish and simple, attended by a neatness of dress 
 which nearly amounted to the dandy. His hair (I will 
 not say whether grown or purchased) was always exceed- 
 ingly correct, and was no doubt trimmed to favour his pre- 
 tensions to female admiration — a point on which he was 
 peculiarly sensitive. Indeed, it was a failing, and was often 
 exhibited in mixed parties, where any preference, however 
 slight, shown to any other gentleman excited a curious 
 jealousy and provoked a passionate resentment. 
 
 But enough of his personal foibles and faults. Beneath 
 these there were literary labours of a very onerous kind — 
 hack labours as well as high poetical compositions — and the 
 enthusiastic pursuit of great objects, such as the cause of 
 Poland, and the foundation of the London University, of 
 which he was a principal promoter, if not the original pro- 
 jector. He was wont to complain much of the honour of 
 this service to the higher education of the metropolis being 
 appropriated away from him by Lord Broxigham and others. 
 Had he been living now, the state of Poland would have 
 engrossed his every faculty, and stirred with sympathy his 
 patriot spirit. 
 
 The establishment of a Literary Club was another of his 
 fervent undertakings ; and though he might flag in the 
 weariness of some of his employments for booksellers' "re- 
 muneration," there never was a more zealous and indefa- 
 tigable devotee to purposes in which he embarked from his 
 own impulses. 
 
 Of his immortal ballads it would be superfluous to speak ; 
 to my judgment they far outstrip the interesting " Gertrude 
 of Wyoming," or the sweet and polished " Pleasures of 
 Hope " — alluding to which I may note that in re-writing, 
 
THOMAS CAMPBELL. 93 
 
 correcting, and improving his writings, Campbell was fasti- 
 dious to a fault. I remember Iris contributing * a short 
 poem to the Burns' Festival, in London, and returning 
 from Sydenham to town to alter a "which" into a " that," 
 or vice versd, in the printers' proof. Perhaps the MS. was 
 quite right, but assuredly he could not rest till he was cer- 
 tain of having given the last touch to whatever he did in 
 poetry. And this union of laborious art with impulsive 
 genius it was that gave him rank among the foremost of the 
 British bards who have adorned the nineteenth century, 
 and found him a tomb among the renowned in Westminster 
 Abbey, wherein I saw him laid with the homage of an 
 admiring country. No marble monument, however, is 
 needed to perpetuate the fame of the author of " Hohen- 
 linden," " Ye Mariners of England," and " The Battle of 
 the Baltic." 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Thomas Campbell, as I have intimated, was always in 
 earnest with everything, great or small, which he under- 
 took. Sometimes the spirit with which he entered upon 
 the matter evaporated, but in other cases he persevered, 
 with untiring energy, to the last. His devotedness to the 
 cause of Poland, indeed, became a ruling j>assion, and his 
 enthusiasm was so hot that it was a dangerous topic to 
 broach in his presence. As 
 
 " Freedom shrieked when Kosciusko fell," 
 the shriek was indefinitely prolonged, and the wrongs and 
 * See Memoir of Lord Aberdeen. 
 
94 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 sufferings of that hero's country were denounced with 
 desperate animation. For 
 
 " In that dread name we raised the sword on high, 
 For her we swear to live, for her to die ! " 
 
 And in reality, he seemed to be so imbued with Polish 
 patriotism, that he was ready to stake his life in the cause, 
 even to the crisis of really falling in the field of battle, 
 and not surviving the liberties of his adopted country. 
 
 The founding of the London University, as noticed, was 
 another sore subject, on which, if the declamation was not 
 so strong, the expression of resentment was hardly less 
 emphatic and bitter. Undoubtedly he made it evident that 
 he hardly got the credit which was justly due to him, for 
 his initiation, and earliest exertions in promoting this 
 important institution. The palrnam qui meruit, he pro- 
 tested, was surreptitiously taken from his brow, and placed 
 on other temples less worthy of the honour, and all the. 
 pleasures of hope that had cheered his original conception 
 of the idea and inchoate labours in the cause, been dispelled. 
 His plan for a new society for the encouragement of literature 
 (1831) made little or no progress — he fancied it was nipped 
 in the bud by the potent fraternity of publishers ■ and 
 hence, perhaps, a little of that hostile feeling which made 
 him declare that he admired Napoleon, at any rate, for one 
 of his acts, in Switzerland, — "He had hanged a book- 
 seller ! " 
 
 I can call to mind nothing more, characteristic of his life 
 in the public affairs in which he embarked. Of his fond- 
 ness for pretty children, I have given an example in a pre- 
 vious publication, which I venture to quote. 
 
 " One day he was so smitten by a beautiful child in St. 
 James's Park, that he put an advertisement in the news- 
 papers (with a description) to discover its residence, the 
 result of which was excessively ludicrous. For some wags 
 
THOMAS CAMPBELL. 95 
 
 of the Hook and Co. clique, aware of the circumstances 
 (which the idealizing bard had blabbed) answered the appeal, 
 and not knowing what address to give, took the last name 
 
 in the directory, a Z , No. — , Sloan e Street. Hither 
 
 Campbell hurried the next forenoon, in full dress, and was 
 shown up to the drawing-room, where he found a middle- 
 aged lady waiting to learn his errand. It was not long in 
 
 being explained, and the indignant Miss Z , on being 
 
 asked to bring in her lovely offspring to gratify the longings 
 of the poet, rushed to the bell and rang violently for her 
 servant to show the insolent stranger to the door." 
 
 On the other point, his incoherent anger at any, how- 
 ever trifling, preference a lady might show to another gen- 
 tleman, even in ordinary society, I remember an instance of 
 the smallest kind, but quite apropos to the fact. At an 
 evening (after dinner) party the handsomest woman in the 
 room, somewhat frightened by Campbell's manner, made 
 room beside herself for a quieter admirer on the sofa, to 
 his exclusion. The favoured individual dreamed of no 
 offence, and was surprised by being desired to take the box- 
 seat of the carriage which happened to go in his and 
 Campbell's direction homewards. Campbell was one of 
 three inside ; and when seeking an explanation for being 
 exposed to the cold night air instead of being snug, when 
 there was room enough, he was astonished to be told by his 
 friends that the poet's rage against him was so excited, that 
 he would have assaulted him as sure as they came toge- 
 ther. It was to avoid this threatened irrational collision, 
 that the separate arrangement was made. 
 
 But if Campbell could provoke smiles, he could also draw 
 tears. It is close upon fifty years since the Address he 
 wrote on the death of the Princess Charlotte was impres- 
 sively recited by Mr. Bartley after the funeral Oratorio in 
 Drury Lane Theatre ; and the effect was indescribable on 
 a whole audience strongly participating in the national 
 
96 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 grief, and melted by the solemn music, concluding with 
 the Dead March in Saul, when invoked to 
 
 " Take a part 
 In that deep sorrow of the public heart, 
 Which, like a shade, had darkened every place, 
 And moistened with a tear the manliest face." 
 
 It was likely that he who took so much pains to elaborate 
 his verse, could not be a smart hand at impromptu or 
 epigram. I cannot remember his attempting such matters, 
 except in one instance where he was asked to write on a 
 copy of his poems, which a friend wished to present, en- 
 riched with his autograph, to a young lady going abroad. 
 It follows — 
 
 "Whoe'er shall imperfections here descry, 
 Counts them not thicker than the author's eye : " 
 
 which I must confess is rather lame and impotent ; nearly 
 as doubtful (till Dickens gives his explanation of " Our 
 Mutual Friend ") as his formula, — 
 
 " When fate had reft her mutual heart," 
 
 in "Gertrude of Wyoming." 
 
 That Campbell ultimately reaped a fair remuneration for 
 his " Pleasures of Hope," may be acknowledged ;* but I have 
 a singular anecdote to tell of a drawback he had to recoup 
 out of it, and in connection with jfleasures of memory which 
 afforded him at once compliment and cost. Some one in 
 the company was quoting a passage, but could not finish ; 
 nor could the author help him. Lord Nugent was present, 
 and offered to fill up the hole in the ballad, stating at the 
 same time that he had committed the entire poem to me- 
 mory, and could repeat it all. The flattered poet of course 
 
 * The original purchase was £10. Hence some of the resentment 
 of his Napoleonic toast, " The Executioner of Booksellers ! " 
 
THOMAS CAMPBELL. 97 
 
 diffidently doubted the fact, and in the end betted his lord- 
 ship two guineas that he could not perform the feat, and 
 lost. 
 
 His bookseller pack-work, such as the " Life of Mrs. 
 Siddons," the editing the " New Monthly Magazine," and 
 other jobs, powr la tripe, went sorely against the grain, and 
 he did not conceal his distaste for them. Probably a more 
 worthless biography than that of Mrs. Siddons was never 
 given to the public. Campbell had evidently taken no 
 pains with it, probably employed some inferior drudge, and 
 let it go forth as full of mistakes as any work of the kind 
 with which I am acquainted. It was a very unfortunate 
 and unsatisfactory work altogether ; but finished gardeners 
 ought not to be set to ditching. 
 
 In my opinion, a biography of the poet himself is still a 
 desideratum, and it would be well of his representatives 
 (nephews and nieces, I believe) to think of it, whilst there 
 are living memories as well as written documents to con- 
 sult. Dr. Beattie, his co-executor with Mr. Moxon, was 
 too recently from his deathbed, and had not all the neces- 
 sary materials to do justice to his subject. 
 
 The following lines written on a small scrap of paper, 
 which appears to have been crumpled and worn in his 
 pocket, are, I believe, unpublished. They appear to have 
 been the inspiration of one of his erratic susceptibilities, 
 and indeed the fair inspirer might be identified, did immor- 
 tality hang on the verse : — ■ 
 
 Whirl'd by the steam's impetuous breath, 
 
 I mark'd yon engine's mighty wheel : 
 How fast it forged the arms of death, 
 
 And moulded adamantine steel. 
 
 But soon, the life-like scene to stop — 
 The steam's impetuous breath to chill ; 
 
 It needed but a single drop 
 Of water cold — and all was still ! 
 
98 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Even so— one tear by Mary shed : 
 
 It kills the bliss that once was mine ; 
 And rapture from my heart is fled, 
 
 Who caused a tear to heart like thine ! 
 1831. T. C. 
 
 The following has never been published : — 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 LINES TO MRS. C. D. 
 
 Written in her Album. 
 
 Could prayers avert the scythe of Time, 
 
 I'd pray in after-ages, 
 One blossom of niy humble rhyme 
 To live among these pages ! 
 
 Your worth shall bid the blossom breathe 
 
 An undespised oblation ; 
 'Tis from the altar that the wreath 
 
 Derives its consecration ! 
 
 Worth, which the best of human kind 
 
 For friendship have selected, 
 And sense, that on the brightest mind 
 
 Has social light reflected. 
 
 Yet, whosoe'er for your regards 
 
 May sue, more famed and noted, 
 Let me, at least, of England's bards, 
 Be held your most devoted. 
 16 Sept. 1832. T. Campbell. 
 
 I have only to add a few desultory notices. 
 
 "I blush," said S. to Campbell, "I blush for the igno- 
 rance of the public — they have no taste, no perception of 
 genuine merit." 
 
 "Ay," said Campbell, with a sigh, "merit like yours, 
 my friend, was ' born to blush unseen. 3 " — (1830- 1.) 
 
 THE WIG. 
 
 " Lost your hair very early, Mr. Cammel 1 " 
 " Yes, very early." 
 
 " Great misfortune, that, Mr. Cammel ; and the cause, 
 maybe 1 " 
 
THOMAS CAMPBELL. 99 
 
 " Why, as to the cause or causes, it was simply this — the 
 life I led at college had a direct tendency to keep my head 
 cool, I may say cold, and being moreover a barren soil, the 
 haii's were dissatisfied, and went off to some richer pasture/' 
 
 " Ay, but I see they have not all deserted — there's half 
 a dozen white ones, at least, peeping out under the wig." 
 
 " Just so, and from the same cause ; for in very cold 
 regions, you know, the hares are all white, otherwise they 
 would have run off like the rest, or perhaps they are too 
 starved to quit." 
 
 " John, I hope you have read this work 1 " 
 
 "I have, sir, very attentively." 
 
 " And what do you think of the author 1 " 
 
 John shook his head and remained silent. 
 
 " Ah," said C, " I see, you think him an ass." 
 
 " No, sir, not so low as that neither ; I think he's greater, 
 much greater." 
 
 "What then? You take him for an elephant, perhaps, 
 the wisest of animals 1 " 
 
 " No, sir, I was thinking he was, maybe, a dromedary, 
 which is, you know, the largest kind of ass." 
 
 During Campbell's residence in the Isle of Midi, most of 
 the old feudal customs, which the progress of civilization 
 had banished from the neighbouring islands, were still reli- 
 giously observed. It was at one of these, a dirgee or wake, 
 that the poet found himself one evening, with many others, 
 who, according to custom, had come to offer their joint 
 sympathy to the bereaved widow. As the whiskey quaich 
 made its repeated round, and every guest did his utmost to 
 cheer and console the sad hostess, the circle became more 
 and more cheerful. At last, to the utter astonishment of 
 the poet, the bagpipes were introduced^ and after a coronach 
 or two, just to soothe the spirit of the departed, up started 
 one couple of dancers, then another, and began to jig it over 
 the floor with all their native skill and agility. The step 
 h 2 
 
100 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 was contagious ; another and another started up, until the 
 disconsolate widow and our poet were the only parties that 
 remained sitting. It was not long, however, till a brisk 
 young Highlander, making his most respectful bow at the 
 widow's chair, accompanied with expressions of heartfelt 
 sympathy, solicited the honour of her hand for the next reel. 
 The widow frowned, beckoned him to forbear under pain of 
 her severe displeasure. But the more she frowned and 
 wept and threatened, the more he bowed and smiled and 
 pressed his suit, whispering in her ear that the best piper 
 in the Isles was only waiting her beck to strike up the 
 " Tullochgorum." 
 
 " Weel, weel," said the widow, mournfully, " what maun 
 be, maun be ; " and then, giving him her hand, she added, 
 "Oh, sirs, let it be a lightsome spring, for I have a sad, 
 heavy heart ! " 
 
 With that, the " light spring " was instantly struck up, 
 and the widow was seen crossing hands and down the 
 middle, with an agility that put life and mettle into the 
 heels of all present, and greatly relieved her own " sad 
 heavy heart"— (From the MSS. 1846.) 
 
 
( ioi ) 
 
 GEOKGE CANNING. 
 
 SOCIETY entertains many senseless prejudices, and is 
 much moved by opinions neither just nor generous. 
 An Irish gentleman of good family married an accomplished 
 girl of inferior station, and was in resentment cut (to use an 
 odious expression) by his 'wealthier and aristocratic rela- 
 tions. He sought to redeem his fortunes in the grand mart 
 for human exertion — London : attempted the dull bar, so 
 sterile of early produce ; forsook it for literature, a still 
 emptier sound — for no one ever asserted that literature was 
 a profitable trade, or suspected an author of money ; ven- 
 tured into commerce, and, as might be anticipated, failed 
 and died. His widow was left without a provision, and 
 with an only son of a year old. She was left to make the 
 best shift she could by her own unassisted efforts, while the 
 child was taken by his father's friends, well cared for, and 
 educated at Hyde School, Winchester, and Eton. 
 
 Classic attainments, wit, and poetry, already heralded his 
 future fame ; and he went to Oxford, in whose neither 
 deep solitudes nor awful celk his lively genius was farther 
 developed, and his juvenile reputation rose high above con- 
 temporary competition, where it would have been no mean 
 distinction to achieve a place in the second rank. Gifted 
 with rare talents and a glowing imagination, he was at the 
 same time studious and brilliant, profound and graceful, 
 devotedly diligent and j>layfully easy. It was a problem to 
 estimate his qualities and character ; for, as the light illumed 
 
102 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 his various phases, he might be conceived to be the solid 
 thinker, the accomplished scholar, the witty humorist, the 
 acute observer, or (imbued with all) the " commencing" 
 student, resolutely bent on mastering the oracles of wisdom 
 and truth to guide him to the highest pinnacle of human 
 ambition. Through the University he passed with increas- 
 ing eclat and accumulating promise. Rising men of all 
 classes courted his fellowship, and the observant (for be had 
 made himself the observed of all observers), earnestly en- 
 gaged in political movements or national government, began 
 to speculate on the importance of such an ally, the services 
 so gifted an individual might render to their cause, and the 
 value of his co-operation in the administration of public 
 affairs. A potent minister speedily brought him into par- 
 liament, and under the most auspicious influences he began 
 his career as a statesman. 
 
 In every age, and over every people, oratory has exer- 
 cised a wonderful, an almost boundless power. To lead an 
 army to victory, to convert a country to the truth, to inspire 
 a crusade, to deliver a people from slavery, to quell a mu- 
 tiny, to denounce and overthrow oppression, to confront and 
 confound wrong, to persuade to wisdom and virtue, the 
 single voice of a single man has often been raised with an 
 efficacy nearly omnipotent. The senate of England, in our 
 age, is unquestionably the most conspicuous field for the 
 demonstration of this " faculty divine," where it is most 
 severely tried, and where, in its highest attributes, it is 
 crowned by the most important victories. Without elo- 
 quence for their exhibition, the most sterling abilities 
 encounter drawback and fail to be justly appreciated ; with 
 it, far slighter talents recommend themselves to hearing, 
 favourably colour argument, and often obtain an estimation 
 for the possessor disproportioned to the real merits of the 
 conditions. In the instance before us, where the noblest 
 intelligence and the most splendid eloquence were equally 
 at command, the race to the goal was admirable and the 
 
GEORGE CANNING. 103 
 
 triumph dazzling. Yet, let it not for a moment be ima- 
 gined that it was run without the strain of prodigious toil 
 and unflagging effort. The break of morn and the midnight 
 lamp witnessed many a wearisome labour, as onerous suc- 
 cessive offices and ever augmenting responsibilities called 
 forth the utmost energy of the arduous politician and un- 
 surpassed orator. And there were also anxieties to be 
 endured, and crosses to be met, and obstacles to be sur- 
 mounted, and enemies to be defeated ; bat grandeur of 
 purpose and patriotic enthusiasm overcame them all. How 
 much his country owes to his life-devotedness to her dearest 
 interests, future history will tell. 
 
 Nature was lavish in her bounties to him, and, placing 
 his fine mind in a dwelling worthy of its beauty, " gave the 
 world assurance of a man," upon whose like it may be long 
 before we look again. His person was handsome, and his 
 countenance the mirror of his mind. A brow of lofty capa- 
 city crowned the well-formed features, which varied in 
 expression with every passing emotion. In manners simple, 
 in sentiments chivalrous, diffident even to the extent of 
 shyness, of extreme sensibility (which would flash out like 
 the blush of an ingenuous boy), captivating in wit, yet 
 exquisitely keen, in private intercourse loveable, and in 
 conducting the affairs of his country, enlightened, energetic, 
 straightforward ; his speeches and his communications with 
 foreign states will for ever remain models of pure English 
 language and genuine English feelings. As true a lover of 
 his native land as ever lived, after a brief experience of the 
 aggravated struggle to which his elevation to the highest 
 place in her counsels exposed him, he died, in the full blaze 
 of his usefulness and honours, a martyr in her cause. It 
 was a momentous crisis, and Great Britain, as with one 
 voice, united in deploring the heaviest loss she almost ever 
 sustained in an individual — that of her prime minister, 
 George Canning. 
 
 In this outline of a fine national chai^acter, allusion has 
 
104 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 been made to the " chivalrous sentiments " which formed a 
 part in its composition ; but the observant student of the 
 "noblest study of mankind" might farther perceive that 
 chivalry was a predominating influence, which, as 1 it were, 
 modified, if it did not rule, all the rest. To this principle 
 may be traced his conduct throughout the whole miserable 
 career of the Princess of Wales. The ebullient vivacity 
 and disregard of prudential reserve, _which contributed so 
 much to the married infelicity of that unhappy lady (and 
 might justly be ascribed to her erroneous foreign education, 
 combined with naturally high spirit^, brought Canning to 
 her side when first her grave misfortunes began. The blunt 
 carelessness of consequences which gave offence elsewhere, 
 could not estrange him from the cause of the woman ; and 
 pity for her sad fate (struck, in the midst of deceitful splen- 
 dours and dangerous indulgence, in what, in her position, 
 were colloquial indiscretions) made Canning her true knight. 
 A striking illustration of this is related by Mr. Jerdan, in 
 his autobiography. When shown into a room at Gloucester 
 Lodge, while Mr. Canning was conducting the princess to 
 her carriage, both in palpable agitation, he happened to rest 
 his arm upon the mantelpiece, when the minister returning, 
 and noticing his situation, exclaimed, with extreme excite- 
 ment, " Beware, sir, what you do : your arm is bathing in 
 the tears of a princess ! " A fact, for her Royal Highness 
 had been weeping plenteously over the marble, on coming 
 to the painful resolution' to leave England and travel, to 
 escape from the evils which beset her on every hand. And 
 on her last great trial, Mr. Canning still threw his shield 
 over her pitiable destiny, and resigned office rather than 
 take a part against one whom he had struggled for, but 
 could not save. 
 
 But other traits marked his exalted and toiling life. The 
 relaxations at Gloucester Lodge were sometimes almost 
 boyish. One evening, an unknown pastime was suggested. 
 It consisted in the discovery of anything imagined by one 
 
GEORGE CANNING. 105 
 
 of the party, by putting to him a certain number, say ten 
 questions. Canning entered into the sport with juvenile 
 alacrity, and before it closed had got to such a pitch of 
 acuteness in his method, that Ghost, Moonlight, Shadow, 
 Abstract Idea, etc., yielded to his inquiry, before be had 
 got beyond the sixth or seventh query. There was much 
 laughter in nearing the goal ; and a clever counsel might 
 have learnt something towards success in cross-examination, 
 from the genius displayed in this leisure hour of a states- 
 man. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 "With my name on the title-page of a book, and not, as 
 in the foregoing outline, writing anonymously, I am afraid 
 to ti-ust myself with saying more of George Canning : it is 
 the pride of my life that I was, for years, honoured with the- 
 confidence of such a man — that I was devotedly attached to 
 him, and that, even now, after a lapse of thirty-eight years, 
 I lament his death with distressing emotions as a great 
 calamity to myself, and an irreparable loss to his country. 
 I shall best consult my feelings, and perhaps save myself 
 from an undeserved imputation of vain glory, if I abstain 
 from the expression of my exalted sentiments, and confine 
 myself to a few unconnected notes barely indicating what 
 manner of man he was in the common intercourse of every- 
 day life. 
 
 I must, however, set out with a correction of my memoir 
 from a relative of the family, who adds that Canning's 
 chivalrous spirit might well belong to his blood as his 
 descent was from two of the noblest septs in Ireland, the 
 Costellos and the Frenches, from Old Castile ! 
 
106 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 " It is stated that the accomplished mother of George 
 Canning was ' of inferior station.' This is so far from being 
 the case, that the young lady was residing with her uncle, 
 General Guydickens, who, on his return from a mission of 
 honour from his sovereign to the court of Russia, had adopted 
 his niece, Mary Ann Costello, as his heiress. It was his man- 
 sion in South Audley Street she quitted to become Mrs. Can- 
 ning. It was from his carriage she was alighting at Kensington 
 Gardens (whither she daily accompanied the General and 
 his maiden sister, her aunt, Miss Guydickens), when George 
 Canning, then a student at Temple Bar, first saw the young 
 Irish beauty who was to be the mother of one of England's 
 best-loved statesmen. The addresses of the young repre- 
 sentative of the Canning squirearchy were sternly repelled 
 by General Guydickens, who had higher views for the niece 
 he subsequently disinherited for what, in his eyes, was a 
 mesalliance. It is at the same time historically true that 
 the Canning family unrelentingly resented the marriage on 
 their side, and thus this true Romeo and Juliet were ex- 
 posed to a cross fire of persecution from the Capulets and 
 Montagues." 
 
 Well, we may say with the poet, " it matters not ; " but 
 Canning was aware of the miserable little envy which would 
 endeavour to disparage him as lowly born. When George 
 Croly published his comedy of " Pride shall have a Fall," 
 he asked me to get Mr. Canning's consent to its being dedi- 
 cated to him. I made the request without circumlocution, 
 as I said and did everything I had to say or do in the same 
 quarter, frankly and straightforward (for such was his 
 desire), and he at once laughingly complied with the appli- 
 cation, with the remark, " It is an odd title. I shall, no 
 doubt, have it good-naturedly fitted to myself." 
 
 I remember on another occasion some one gave a vivid 
 account of a pitiable scene just witnessed in the Green Park. 
 Lord Sidmouth was then Secretary for the Home Depart- 
 ment, and in the morning on coming to his office he was 
 
GEORGE CANNING. 107 
 
 intercepted by a wretched female in deep mourning, who 
 with her family of several young children threw themselves 
 at his lordship's feet in agony, begging for the life of a con- 
 vict husband and father, who had been found guilty of a 
 capital crime and left for execution. Their despair, and the 
 vehemence of their entreaties, were so pathetically described 
 that it was hardly possible to refrain from tears ; and know- 
 ing that the pleading was in vain, Mr. Camiing burst out 
 with the exclamation, " I would not hold that office for all 
 the wealth and power of the Government ! " 
 
 There were, as this incident shows, great tenderness and 
 human sympathy in his nature, as well as a refined delicacy. 
 Of the latter I can give a slight but striking example. One 
 day when a party, including Lord Brougham, were to dine 
 with him, he happened to pass through the dining-room 
 where the table was laid out for the repast. In the centre 
 stood a handsome ornament, which caught his eye, and he 
 called for the butler to remove it, reproving him for his 
 thoughtlessness in placing it there. It was the piece of 
 plate presented to him by the citizens of Liverpool, for his 
 victory over Brougham at the election, many years before. 
 
 Mr. Canning never courted popularity. He was anxious 
 to learn the opinions of the middle classes, and nothing- 
 pleased him more than open and candid accounts of what 
 the active men in the world, professional, mercantile, and 
 trading, thought and said on the political questions of the 
 day. One might fancy that he took a delight in the gossip 
 after-dinner opinions of Bedford Square, or Paternoster 
 Row, or Cheapside ; but it was from sifting such materials 
 that he helped to form his mind for the most important 
 affairs. He loved to gather the information from all 
 quarters, ponder upon it, judge, and act. Angry political 
 opponents have accused him of intrigue. As far as it is 
 within my capacity, and from means of constant personal 
 observation, I should declare that for a statesman, open and 
 unguarded candour was the spring and soul of his existence. 
 
108 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Like his great master, his patriotism was enthusiastic. He 
 idolized the Pilot who weathered the storm, and, like him on 
 his death-bed, his last prayers were for blessings on his 
 country — for " England which had saved herself by her 
 firmness, and would (did) save Europe by her example ! " 
 
 On like principles he conducted the foreign policy of this 
 empire. I believe he might thus have defined his diplo- 
 matic system, though I can only employ my own weak lan- 
 guage, " "What we say we believe to be right, and we mean 
 to do what we say. There is no disguise nor concealment ; 
 and you may rely upon it we will hold fast by our declared 
 convictions and purposes ! " Thus did he guide the helm. 
 At his death we were the umpire of nations, and not one 
 power in Europe was in a condition to dare the vengeance 
 of Great Britain. Can we wonder that his loss was so 
 deeply and universally deplored 1 
 
 The following anecdote of him, when Minister for Foreign 
 Affairs, is a fine instance of the generosity of a statesman, 
 certainly not belonging to the most wealthy class. On the 
 conclusion of a treaty with Sweden, Baron Ehrenheim, the 
 Swedish representative at Stockholm, got it intimated that 
 he would prefer the value in money to the snuffbox set with 
 diamonds usually presented on such occasions. Canning 
 was surprised at so extraordinary a proposition, but on 
 inquiry learnt that Baron Ehrenheim was a poor man, and 
 had nothing but his salary. The province of Bohuslaen was 
 suffering under a great dearth of corn, and he was anxious to 
 alleviate the misery by applying this sum to its relief. It 
 was a noble purpose, and found a response in the breast of 
 the English Minister. He not only fulfilled the wish, but 
 begged the favour to be permitted to share in the good deed, 
 and also gave the price of the diplomatic box from the 
 Swedish Government to himself in aid of the contribution 
 to the starving province of Bohuslaen. 
 
 Owing to a perfectly fortuitous eaves-dropping at Court, 
 it so happened that I could convey to him certain assu- 
 
GEORGE CANNING. 109 
 
 ranees, which, if he had required them, would have greatly- 
 strengthened his hands as Prime Minister, and did, indeed, 
 enable him to form a strong ministry when deserted by 
 those who ought to have been on his side : but my remarks 
 meddle not with politics, and I only humbly endeavour to 
 throw up a few light feathers to show how the wind blew — 
 by a few minute particulars, hoping to convey a fair idea of 
 points of character, if not a trustworthy general impression. 
 At all events, it may be nearer the truth than was a learned 
 judge's opinion of the statue at Westminster. " I don't 
 think Canning was so large," he observed to a barrister 
 walking by his side. "Nor so green, my lord," was the 
 legal, not fine art, rejoinder. 
 
 Illustrious as a public man, it was as a private one that 
 he fascinated his congenial friends, and concentrated on 
 himself as much admiration and love as could well fall to 
 mortal lot. With the Ellises, Freres, and all the wide 
 circle wherein he chiefly moved, he was an object so dear 
 as to be indescribable. The play of summer lightning over 
 all the sky was not more brilliant, nor, when provoked by 
 unworthiness, was the fork more destructive. George 
 Canning — 
 
 * " Qui genus hominum ingenio superavit, et omnes 
 
 Perstrinxit, stellas exorbis ut setherius Sol ! " 
 
 P.S, — I hope I may, without indecorum, allude to a sin- 
 gular fact ; but I have reason to fancy that the noble line of 
 Canning, now happily continued with the ancient race of 
 de Burgh, might, had not Circumstances prevented, have 
 been transmitted in union with ties very near to Imperial 
 sovereignty. 
 
( no ) 
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY. 
 
 SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY was a very eminent and 
 a very successful sculptor ; and to get to be the fore- 
 most, at least as far as popularity and lucrative commis- 
 sions went, in the race where Nollekens, Westruacott, and 
 Flaxman were among his competitors, must be received as 
 evidence of no small degree of genius. 
 
 My sketches are personal, not critical ; yet I may 
 allude to some of his principal productions, and first of all 
 to the tomb of the two children of the Rev. Mr. Robinson, 
 in Lichfield Cathedral. Upon this, as also, perhaps, but 
 in a lesser degree, upon a family group in Wales, rests 
 his reputation in what I consider the higher walk of art, 
 the simply natural, and addressed to human feelings. It is 
 true the originality of the Lichfield monument has been 
 contested. It was alleged to be from a sketch by Stothard, 
 which I have reason to believe entirely unfounded. 
 Another report asserted that it was modelled by a foreign 
 artist (whose name was given), attached to the sculptor's 
 studio, and as this rumour was never denied, I am inclined 
 to think that he wrought much upon, if he did not more 
 materially assist, in the composition. But Chantrey earned 
 fame enough without having to base his claim to our 
 admiration on this or any other specific example of his 
 felicity in conception and mastery in execution. His statue 
 of James Watt is one of the very finest in the country ; 
 and in most of the others from his hands there is much to 
 
SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY. Ill 
 
 prize above the average of our similar public works or 
 exhibitions. In busts be was even more successful, and be 
 bas preserved for future generations a gallery of striking 
 likenesses of many of the most celebrated personages of his 
 era. It was in these that his artistic skill shone brightest. 
 With the genuine gift that belongs to superior talent alone, 
 he knew how to set forth the marked characteristics of the 
 individual whose features he was employed to represent, 
 and to watch, as it were, for that happy moment when 
 he could seize and embody the living forms which, stamped 
 upon the marble, were at once acknowledged by all as 
 perfect in resemblance aud truthful in expression. An 
 instance of this careful discrimination and ready wit of the 
 artist occurred on the sitting of Sir Walter Scott to him. 
 He had tried in vain to dissipate the grave and constrained 
 look which people can hardly shake off when fixed down 
 to be stared at and studied for portraits. Scott's jocund 
 smile, when telling some pleasant story, could not be 
 resuscitated by all the conversational manoeuvres of the 
 artist, when, in the midst of his despondency, a rough voice 
 was heard in the outer room, insisting upon admission, no 
 matter how the master was engaged. " That's Jack 
 Fuller ! " exclaimed Scott. " That's it !" exclaimed Chantrey. 
 " Only sit as you are one minute, and all will be right." 
 Under these circumstances the excellent bust (so familiar to 
 us all, in life-size, cabinet, and petto) was attained and 
 finished. 
 
 Chantrey was always inordinately ambitious to be 
 intrusted with the execution of public monuments ; labour, 
 I suspect, not always so remunerative as bust-making. In 
 the arts, however, fame is the key to the stores of wealth. 
 For the equestrian Wellington in front of the Royal 
 Exchange there was a close contest.* The statue was 
 
 * His acuteness of eye, so necessary a faculty for an artist, espe- 
 cially in portraiture, received a curious illustration one day, in con- 
 
112 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 originally proposed by an influential citizen to be erected by 
 Mr. Matthew Wyatt (whose disappointment in having this 
 shifted from his hands was compensated by his friends 
 raising a fund and giving the commission for the more 
 costly group on the Hyde Park Corner arch) ; but the name 
 of the admired Royal Academician was introduced in 
 competition, and the committee on the arrangements, sitting 
 in the Mansion House, was divided in opinion. The rank 
 of Chantrey in the national school of fine arts, and his wide- 
 spread celebrity, carried the day ; but the struggle was so 
 severe that it was only by the casting (second) vote of the 
 Lord Mayor that the palm was awarded. On this, as on 
 many other occasions, and indeed throughout the latter part 
 of his brilliant career, the candidate was greatly indebted 
 for his victory to the energetic services of his fid/us Achates, 
 Allan Cunningham. Allan was truly an invaluable coad- 
 jutor. Not only by his zeal in matters of business, but 
 through his interest with the press, he contributed much to 
 the fortunate issue of many bargains and speculations, 
 which amply filled the purse of his friend, to whom he stood 
 in the relation of secretary, and, as regarded the studio, 
 factotum. At his death Chantrey bequeathed him £200 a 
 year as a grateful acknowledgment of his worth ; but poor 
 Cunningham did not survive twelve months, to enjoy his 
 legacy.* 
 
 Francis Chantrey's birth was veiy humble ; so humble 
 that, as a boy, he carried sand from his father's little farm 
 at Norton, near Sheffield, to the latter for sale, driving the 
 consignment on the ass before him, and probably enjoying a 
 ride home on the patient animal. From his very childhood 
 
 nection with this very statue. I was seated at table, next to Chan- 
 trey, and the Duke was five or six off from us, when the sculptor bid 
 me notice his Grace's ear, which was, in fact, nearly flat, and with- 
 out the usual amount of convolute formation. 
 
 * I have been told, however, that the bountiful Lady Chantrey 
 continued it to his widow. 
 
SIR FRANCIS CHAKTREY. 113 
 
 he is described as having betrayed a strong appetite for 
 making figures in common clay ; but it was reserved for an 
 aunt, the housekeeper of a lady of fortune, to help him to 
 another material ; and he is said to have worked strange 
 things in the dough with which she was constructing her 
 ornamental pastry. At table his clever animal models 
 attracted notice, and paved the way to his being apprenticed 
 to a Scotch carver and gilder, a post not unfavourable to 
 his disposition and habits, and from which he fought his 
 course through many trials, and under some discouragement, 
 to the lofty position he so deservedly attained. During the 
 early period of his road up the hill I think he accpiired 
 some familiar acquaintance with Edinburgh, Dublin, and 
 other places, which opened his mind to more than merely 
 local information, before he arrived to settle in London. 
 
 His first contribution to the Royal Academy Exhibition 
 was a bust so spirited, that the story went of the then aged 
 Nollekens removing one of his own performances to make 
 room for the stranger. Nevertheless, though past the fear 
 of competition, it was an act of kindness, as well as an 
 example of appreciative judgment, to distinguish the young 
 exhibitor in this manner ; and his continued patronage had 
 considerable effect in bringing the merits of his protege into 
 general notice. Chantrey rose to be a Royal Academician 
 several years before the nonagenarian miser died, leaving 
 behind him £200,000, accumulated by his practice in bust- 
 making. 
 
 When the flood of prosperity set in, Chantrey knew well 
 how to increase and make a good use of it. Without being 
 worldly, in the lower meaning of the word, he was astute, 
 persevering, and prudent ; and his aj^pearance and manners 
 were of a kind to conciliate good-will and promote friendly 
 alliances. He was free and off-spoken — the tone of frank- 
 ness so indicative of a prospering man, who needs to care 
 little or nothing for anybody's opinion — and yet, in his case, 
 there was no assumption of pei'sonal superiority or affecta- 
 
 i 
 
114 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 tion of professional talent : it "was often an amusing sort of 
 bluntness. I remember, at an Artists' Benevolent Fund 
 Anniversary, when the subscriptions were being collected 
 at the end of the upper dais table, where a few fellow- 
 acquaintances sat together, the collecting steward in jest 
 laid down a strip of paper and said, " Very handsome : a 
 cheque from Sir J. Wyattville for .£20. He could not 
 attend. There is a good example for you, Sir Francis.'' 
 Chantrey, who had just written his usual cheque for £10, 
 threw down the pen and said, angrily, " I get my money 
 honestly ! " This was a fling at the expenses of Windsor 
 Castle. 
 
 Generally speaking, his conversation was lively and 
 entertaining, and his accompanying looks so comical and 
 mirth-provoking that it was no wonder his friend and fellow- 
 Academician Leslie got him to sit for Sancho Panza in 
 his most humorous scenes from the incomparable " Don 
 Quixote." 
 
 Independently of his pre-eminent qualifications for 
 sculpture, he was an accomplished draughtsman ; and some 
 of his friends yet cherish relics of his pleasing manipulation 
 in this charming branch of art. But he went still further, 
 even in public, with this talent. When nearly forty years 
 of age, and overladen with work, there appeared " The 
 Peak Scenery in Derbyshire," by E. Rhodes, the picturesque 
 views of which were from his pencil, and engi-aved by the 
 brothers W. B. and George Cook. 
 
 Like Sir Humphrey Davy, Sir Francis Chantrey was very 
 fond of angling, with its quantum of gentle excitement to 
 keep the faculties in motion. Excursions in Derbyshire 
 supplied rare opportunities for indulgence in this pursuit. 
 He was still more ardently devoted to the sports of the field, 
 and, as a coveted recreation, the rod had to yield to the 
 gun. And the exercise, when it could be taken, was 
 extremely beneficial towards conserving his health ; for he 
 was of full habit of body, and inclined to that condition, for 
 
SIB FRANCIS CHANTREY. 115 
 
 the remedy of which there was no Banting then to prescribe. 
 The luxurious fare of London in constant enjoyment, and 
 long confinement in the atelier, I fear, were not sufficiently 
 counteracted by the occasional starts of fishing and shooting • 
 and our great sculptor, who has left many noble works to 
 transmit his name with honour to posterity, died before he 
 had reached his grand climacteric. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 To my mind the essence of sculpture is purity, or, if I 
 might so express it, oneness. Even a fold in costume ought 
 to be simple, even a god ought to be natural. Notwith- 
 standing all the range the art embraces — the beautiful, the 
 grand, the pathetic, the tragical, the sublime, the divine, 
 &c, — every effort to seize the highest perfection must 
 harmonize with this inexorable principle. The most imagi- 
 native subjects and the most complicated designs must accord 
 with a certain simplicity ; and it must ever be remembered, 
 in conceiving, and in judging, that every expression of the 
 art is to be embodied in a very pure material substance, which 
 the beholder can never look upon as a creation of living 
 nature, and which does not compete with nature, because it 
 has elements of its own and is above it. 
 
 Chantrey's happiest productions were those in which he 
 displayed the greatest simplicity. He never gilded his busts 
 or statues — because the ancients sometimes did it ; and I 
 confess tha^ I never saw a gilt countenance yet that did not 
 seem to me to be ugly and unnatural ; and as for colour, I 
 should as soon think of painting the lily as of piitting a 
 tint upon the bosom of a Yenus. But having indicated the 
 greatest of Chantrey's merits (for he never aimed at the 
 highest attainments of sculpture) I find that the most con- 
 i 2 
 
116 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 venient method for arranging the little I have to add, is to 
 adopt the shape of notes upon my text. That his merits 
 were not accepted by all as the climax in the art, might be 
 gathered from the slightly malicious remark circulated on 
 the report of his knighthood : " When the king knights 
 Chantrey, the next thing he ought to do would be to make 
 Baily an Earl." 
 
 With regard to the children's monument in Lichfield 
 Cathedral, a gentleman who has been long intimately 
 conversant with such matters assures me that the design 
 (in spite of my disbelief) was by Stothard, and tftat it was 
 moulded and carved by an artist employed in Chantrey's 
 studio, of the name of Legee, whose family — though of a 
 French name — had been long settled in England. Probably 
 the truth is, that this individual wrought, at any rate, a 
 great deal upon the model. 
 
 The first bust contributed to the Royal Academy Exhi- 
 bition was of Raphael Smith, the deaf engraver ; and when 
 ISTollekens said, in his odd way, " It's all there : he'll do it ; 
 it's in him," money-hoarder as he was, he did absolutely 
 more for the aspirant than he, with all his generous manner, 
 was prone to do for promising talent. 
 
 I have mentioned the higher aims of sculpture as being 
 unattempted by Chantrey. Perhaps he knew himself suffi- 
 ciently to be aware that his fame must be achieved in a less 
 ambitious line. I think he was rather ready to scoff at 
 some of the " elevated productions " of contemporaries ; 
 but at all events he declined competition, and refused almost 
 every commission to undertake any Great Work, out of the 
 way of common life. He would not risk his reputation 
 beyond the Penelope and Companion for the Duke of 
 Bedford, at Woburn ; and after modelling a Head for a 
 statue of Satan, for the Earl of Egremont, he would do 
 nothing more for it, and indeed generally talked down 
 commissions for ideal sculpture. Thus, while he gave a 
 tone and character to portraiture unknown to England till 
 
SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY. 117 
 
 his times, he so far injured the art by dwarfing it below the 
 immortal conceptions which it is so wonderfully competent 
 to realize, to rival the poet, and 
 
 " To give to airy nothing 
 A local habitation and a name." 
 
 A little anecdote may demonstrate this : Allan Cunning- 
 ham asked him once to look at a work of a then young artist, 
 and Chantrey inquired, "What is the subject 1 ?" " Adam," 
 replied Allan. " Have you seen it 1" "Yes." "And do 
 you think it like him V was the caustic remark ; and it was 
 as fully characteristic of the 'speaker, on the special points 
 I have been noticing, as if a volume were written to exhibit 
 his vein of thinking, his opinions respecting the noblest 
 endeavours of his "profession," and his terse mode of 
 expressing his sentiments. Among the men I have known, 
 I know now (fortunately not using the past in my gram- 
 matical time) a distinguished sculptor, who, when quite a 
 youth, was taken to see the famous man's studio, and its 
 master-spirit observed to him (by way of encouragement) 
 " Do you 1 So, sir, you expect to be a sculptor 1 Well, when 
 I began the profession there were about fifteen ; now there 
 are fifty. Do you think you can get a living ] " 
 
 There is a space between the utmost material capacity 
 and genius. 
 
 On the biennial distribution of prizes at the Royal 
 Academy in the year 1841, when it had just lost its dis- 
 tinguished ornaments Chantrey and Wilkie, the eloquent 
 President, Sir Martin Shee, in addressing the medallist, 
 took a more favourable view than I have done of the 
 indisposition of the former towards the encouragement of 
 the loftiest branch on the tree. He described and com- 
 m ended the anxiety of Sir Francis Chantrey to abolish 
 monumental allegory and establish a British School of 
 Sculptor ; but for this he had left an ample fund in the 
 power of the Academy — a little seduction to embrace his 
 
118 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 opinions ; yet I have heard nothing of the abolition of fancy 
 mourners in stone or of symbols and idealities, even on our 
 national monuments ; and I have seen nothing of the "British 
 School," whatever it may be — at least, as far as I can 
 understand it — emanating from the funds at the disposal of 
 the Royal Academy. 
 
( 119 ) 
 
 SAMUEL TAYL01R COLERIDGE. 
 
 COLEEIDGE spent a strange, wayward, dreamy, poetical, 
 and, but for its poetry, a purposeless and melancholy 
 life. I cannot say he ever seemed sad, and, far less, un- 
 happy. On the contrary, he was almost invariably sweetly 
 even-tempered, buoyant in manner, fluent in speech, philo- 
 sophizing in argument, and interesting in literary and per- 
 sonal anecdote. Even when enduring the painful condition 
 of being necessitated to 
 
 " Forestall the blighted harvest of the brain," 
 
 he had still the same cool temperament, and felt no force in 
 the bitter couplet, — 
 
 " Think ye how dear the sickly meal is bought 
 By one who works at verse and trades in thought." 
 
 A single epithet will describe the man — he was Original ; 
 but the peculiar features and oddities which constituted his 
 originality are beyond the powers of language to depict. 
 In person he was like nobody else. De Quincey, on a 
 mission to find him, relates, " He might seem to be about 
 five feet eight (he was, in reality, an inch and a half taller) ; 
 but his figure was of an order which drowns the height ; 
 his person was broad and full, and tended even to corpu- 
 lence ; his complexion was fair, though not what painters 
 technically style fair, because it was associated with black 
 
120 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 hair ; his eyes were large and soft in their expression, and 
 it was from the peculiar appearance of haze or dreaminess 
 which mixed with their light, that I recognised my object — 
 this was Coleridge. I examined him steadfastly for a 
 minute or more ; and it struck me that he saw neither 
 myself nor any other object in the street." He was loiter- 
 ing in a gateway at the time, and the portrait is very faith- 
 ful. When years had blanched his hair to a silvery white, 
 his tendency to obesity increased, his countenance was 
 tinged with a faint florid flush, and his large, soft, gray eye 
 beamed with an extraordinary mingled expression of tender- 
 ness and splendour ; for it was like molten fire, with its fit- 
 ful force abated by the concomitant signs of thoughtfulness 
 and feeling. In all, he was physically of an enervated 
 nature — I mean the reverse of muscular. His action was 
 most quiet and subdued, even when most energetically 
 declaiming ; and his hand (as a specimen) was as velvety 
 as the sheathed paw of cat or mole, and might have mani- 
 fested the veriest Sybarite that ever lived for luxury alone. 
 But intellectually, he was of the same curious organism. 
 His frequent fits of gravity, as if absorbed in reverie, came 
 like shadows, and so departed. Then his ready and com- 
 placent smile would dart across his countenance like a gleam 
 of sunshine ; and his laugh never seemed to emanate from 
 the heart, hearty, — it hardly deserved the name of cheerful- 
 ness. I speak of him tete-a-tete, or in company — the changes 
 were rapid and flickering ; and there was a charm in his 
 variable mutations which made his conversation ever 
 pleasing, ever new. 
 
 He could rarely fatigue an attentive listener. It was 
 only when his " philosophy " (with which he abounded on 
 all occasions) betrayed him into abstruse paradoxes and 
 metaphysical refinements that his rich colloquialism took 
 the shape of dissertation, and was delivered with a fervent 
 eloquence, most powerful in lecture, but subversive of con- 
 versation ; and these bursts were so admirable that there 
 
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 121 
 
 was seldom any disposition to interrupt them. When it 
 did occur that they went wandering into all cognate matters 
 and consonant sentiments, it was the easiest thing possible, 
 by throwing in some absurd remark or irrelevant question, 
 to divert the current into quite another channel, and enjoy 
 and re-enjoy the versatility and depths of an inexhaustible 
 mind. 
 
 I witnessed a strange instance once, of the Old Man 
 Eloquent being beguiled into singularly incongruous exhi- 
 bitions of action, look, manner, and, I was about to add, 
 speech ; but the speech was in his usual style of elocution 
 and deliveiy. A literary gentleman entertained a party of 
 friends in a small suburban gardener's cottage, where he 
 had hired lodgings for the summer. Of the party were 
 Lockhart and Hook, the latter at the top of his most 
 exuberant humour. Coleridge had never met Hook before, 
 and seemed lost in wonder. Under Hook's instigation, he 
 took part in a scene of boisterous merriment, the philo- 
 sopher being for the nonce like a wild schoolboy at play. 
 Presently, he was diverted by a wonderful song, extem- 
 porized by Hook at the dictation of Captain Harris, who 
 had suspected him of collusion and preparation in previous 
 instances, and gave the untoward subject of "Cocoa-nut 
 Oil." On this theme the improvisatore descanted in the 
 happiest vein, and brought the oil from the cocoa-tree 
 under which the negroes danced in the Mauritius, through 
 various stages of importation and manufacture, till it ended 
 (as it had in reality done on the dinner-table) by refusing 
 to burn in the lamp, and thus, by experiment, repudiating 
 the patent then taken out for its enlightenment of man- 
 kind. It was certainly a marvellous display of the ready 
 application of a remarkable talent. " Well," said Cole- 
 ridge, in his smoothest drawling manner, " I have met with 
 many men of the readiest wit and resources, but, of all the 
 men I ever met, Mr. Hook is the most extraordinary ; for 
 none could ever, like him, bring the vast stores of quick 
 
122 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 intelligence to bear upon the mere incidents of the moment." 
 "With Coleridge still as the principal figure, it was a scene 
 for photography to have depicted and preserved a sample of 
 high jinks, such as elder authors have prescribed as per- 
 taining to other epochs. 
 
 From the Blue Coat School, where he distinguished him- 
 self, and Cambridge, where he won the gold medal for the 
 prize Greek Ode, Coleridge joined and associated with, at 
 his native Bristol, Southey, Wordsworth, and other aspiring 
 candidates for poetic fame. These emulous and gifted men 
 acted upon each other ; and it is, no doubt, owing to this 
 almost copartnery in verse, that we are indebted for emana- 
 tions which immortalize the so-called Lake School. That 
 he was milli secundus, the " Ancient Mariner," written 
 1797-8, is an incontestable proof. Weird, imaginative, and 
 mystical, it has no parallel in the English language ; and 
 the lesson to love and reverence all living things that God 
 made is impressed with a tragic grandeur and awful horror 
 which sink deep into the spirit, and can never be effaced. 
 In his saddest moods, which, as I have observed, were never 
 intrusive, and but faintly visible, he might indulge in mourn- 
 ful reflections : — 
 
 " But if, like mine, through life's distressful scene, 
 Lonely and sad thy pilgrimage hath been ; 
 And if, thy breast with heart-sick anguish fraught, 
 Thou journeyest onward, tempest-toss'd in thought, 
 Here cheat thy cares." 
 
 Alas ! he spoke of the abode of the Man of Ross ; his own 
 expedient for cheating cares was of a fatal kind. Yet he 
 claimed, 
 
 " To me hath heaven with bounteous hand assign'd 
 Energic reason, and a shaping mind." 
 
 The passion for the intoxicating drug, which he shared in 
 common with his friend the famous " Opium Eater," grew 
 
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 123 
 
 into so pernicious a habit that it could hardly be restrained 
 within bounds consistent with rational life. All that could 
 be achieved was to procure temporary respites from a con- 
 dition which would otherwise have been utterly visionary, 
 and close upon insanity. There is no doubt that the prodigal 
 use of this narcotic stimulant had great influence upon the 
 writings of both these celebrated men ; and it would be a 
 curious psychological problem to solve, were it possible, how 
 much of the wandering and incoherency of both, and, in 
 truth, how much of the wild and obscure, so likely in our 
 day to be mistaken for the breathings of genius, is to be 
 ascribed to this cause. 
 
 In social relations the effects were more obvious and de- 
 plorable. To witness a wonderfully gifted individual insulate 
 himself by a solitary vice in the midst of affectionate and 
 anxious friends, is a melancholy spectacle. I have almost 
 wept at the alteration in Coleridge when his resolution 
 failed, as it was too apt to do, and the painful idea of a 
 bright luminary eclipsed was rendered far more poignant 
 from its suggestion by a human being made to be admired 
 and loved. Irregularities injurious to self-interest were ever 
 produced by these tempting flights into dreamland. Ab- 
 straction took the place of literary employment ; procras- 
 tination marred the most feasible projects ; and engagements, 
 however important, gave way to the rainbow illusions in 
 which the senses could be tranced. Still, in morals, religion, 
 philosophy, and politics (originally democratic as the French 
 revolution could inspire), Coleridge wielded a powerful pen. 
 ' ' The Friend " comprised excellent moral essays ; his reli- 
 gious pieces seemed earnest and devout; his philosophy search- 
 ingly and sentimentally metaphysical; his politics, much dif- 
 fused in the daily press, with only a few traits in his minor pieces; 
 and his poetry altogether, lasting as the English language ! 
 
 I have not yet noticed a vein of sportive humour which 
 he occasionally displayed, and which was exceedingly amus- 
 ing when it accompanied the relation of any whimsical 
 
124 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 anecdote. The lustre of his large eye, the gravity of his 
 look, the silvery tone of his voice, and the slightly drawling 
 manner in the delivery of his narrative, gave a peculiar 
 significance to these little stories, of which no idea can be 
 formed from the matter, divorced from the accessories of 
 person, emphasis, and playful action. I remember one 
 case in point. He described his school-days, and, I think, 
 when a junior pupil in a boarding-school kept by his father. 
 It was a speech and breaking-up day, and the parents were 
 gratified with the exhibition of a drama enacted by their 
 sons. Among the rest, Coleridge had to say something, 
 accompanied by a laugh, which he unhappily uttered with- 
 out an attempt at cachinnation, " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " The 
 father, who had bestowed great pains on the passage, and 
 was dreadfully provoked, as one of the irritabile genus vatum 
 ought to be, by its being " come tardy of," leaped upon the 
 platform, and, seizing the delinquent by the ears, vociferated 
 a laugh by way of example, though hardly more genial than 
 the first offence. At any rate, it was out of time and place ; 
 and the more he shook him, shouting " Ha, ha, haw ! " the 
 more the culprit failed in his imitation, till at last his doleful 
 " Ha ! " was emitted with a blubber and a howl, which set 
 the whole audience in a roar. 
 
 I shall now only record a trait of a different kind, and 
 more characteristic of my portrait subject. I encountered 
 him, in meditative mood, one forenoon in Trinity College 
 Chapel, Cambridge, and close under the glance of Roubi- 
 liac's admirable statue of Newton. He appeared to be 
 much moved by the contemplation of it, and all at once his 
 noble ambition burst forth in words : " Oh that I might 
 deserve an honour like this, in these halls where I have 
 been blessed so much ! " and the expression of his counte- 
 nance was piteous to behold. He soon rallied, however, in 
 conversation, and told me he had that morning been recog- 
 nised and spoken to by a working man who had heard him 
 lecture there twenty years ago, and could repeat several 
 
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 125 
 
 passages which had struck him, and made so forcible an , 
 impression as never to be forgotten. These he did repeat, 
 to the lecturer's extreme delight, who declared it was the 
 most grateful tribute ever paid to his efforts in that branch 
 of popular instruction. I need not recall how wonderfully 
 effective these lectures were. In thought, composition, 
 style, and eloquence they could hardly be surpassed. It is 
 to be regretted that at least some of the finest have not 
 been preserved to us as they flowed from his persuasive 
 lips ; but it is so far consolatory to believe that many of the 
 noblest and most original ideas found homes in his various 
 other productions. Still much must have been lost, or, 
 perhaps, becoming vague from repetition after their first 
 beautiful freshness, fell partially within the obscura vera 
 involvens of his habitual soliloquizing when colloquially 
 earnest. 
 
 He died at Highgate in 1834, his latter years having 
 been rendered comfortable and happy (as his temperament 
 permitted) by the devoted friendship and medical cares of 
 Mr. Gill man, whose name, for his philanthropy towards the 
 poet, might justly be held up as a pattern not only to his 
 profession, but to humankind in every age and country. 
 
 It cannot be said that Coleridge's great talents were hid ; 
 but assuredly, with energy of mind and persevering culture, 
 they might have ranked him yet higher among the im- 
 mortal bards and teachers of England, and exercised 
 more important and enduring influence for the benefit of 
 mankind. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 On reviewing what I have written of Coleridge, I find 
 that I might largely amplify it, but my object in these 
 slight essays being to eliminate, not to elaborate character- 
 
126 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 istic traits, I shall not intrude my own opinions on generally 
 known topics connected with his biography and literary 
 productions. How the latter might be summed up, I 
 observe in a letter from a brother bard, Procter, who, 
 together with Mr. Basil Montagu, was pressing me to exert 
 myself on behalf of their protege in a place where I had 
 some influence, and succeeded in obtaining what was 
 wished.* Giving me instructions for my Plea, Barry 
 Cornwall truly says : " "With regard to Coleridge's works 
 — he is a moving body of divinity and morality, of meta- 
 physics (and physics too), of logic and poetry, all of which 
 he duly expounds for the benefit of Jew and Gentile. He 
 is well versed in modern languages, and a most accomplished 
 Grecian — indeed, about the best in the country." The 
 writer goes on to enumerate his works — a portion of the 
 great project on The Human Mind, ready for the press ; 
 and already published, " The Friend," " Lay Sermons," 
 " Wallenstein," from the German of Schiller, the tragedy 
 of " Remorse," volumes of verse, and contributions to the 
 Courier newspaper, et cetera. These, he observes, leave 
 little doubt but that he is one of the deepest and most 
 original thinkers of his time, and proceeds, — " He is a 
 loyalist, a linguist, a poet (you should have one at least in 
 your number, and not waste your gold on antiquaries only), 
 a metaphysician, a theologian, and fifty things besides — is 
 thej:e anybody living of whom more can be said 1" A. 
 remarkable postscript demands my notice, though I cannot 
 imagine that a shade of the malignant rumour can remain 
 
 * By turning to the sketch of the Bishop of Salisbury, it will be 
 seen that tins invocation referred to one of the hundred guinea an- 
 nuities granted by the Boyal Society of Literature, on the council 
 of which I had the honour to be a constant and active member from 
 the beginning for many years, and that the " Poet" was one of the 
 elect. Mr. Procter states that the Marquis of Lansdowne and Sir 
 
 James Mackintosh had promised to vote for him, but neither of 
 
 them had votes ! 
 
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 127 
 
 to be indignantly denied and dissipated. " It is worth 
 while to advert to it, but somebody once said (and slander 
 repeated it) tbat Coleridge bad deserted bis wife and child. 
 This is utterly void of truth. On the contrary, he gives up 
 the whole of the little income he has to them, and subsists 
 on the scanty produce of his pen himself." 
 
 Some satirical critic has remarked that much poetry flows 
 from the vanity of the poet ; but it would perhaps be more 
 just to assert that very little true poetry ever sprang from 
 that source, and that the inborn inspiration (poeta nascitur) 
 more resembles that of song-birds striving to excel in their 
 warbled melodies, or emanates from the finest and noblest 
 feelings of our human nature. It has struck me as curious 
 with regard to this base falsehood, that Coleridge wrote 
 " Lines on a Friend, who died of a Frenzy Fever induced by 
 calumnious Reports ;" and it might almost seem as if mutato 
 nomine, de me fabula narratur, might be applied. The 
 coincidence in four lines is at least very striking : — 
 
 " As oft at twilight gloom thy grave I pass, 
 And oft sit down upon its recent grass, 
 With introverted eye I contemplate 
 Similitude of soul, perhaps of — ■ — fate." 
 
 And he concludes, — 
 
 " Is this piled earth our being's passless mound ? 
 Tell me, cold grave ! is Death with poppies crown'd ? 
 Tired sentinel ! 'mid fitful starts I nod, 
 And fain would sleep, though pillow'd on a clod." 
 
 Among his sources of provision his lectures at the Crown 
 and Anchor Tavern may be mentioned. They were extra- 
 ordinary and very popular ; and it is a pity (as I have 
 remarked) that they were suffered to pass away without 
 notes being taken. Hazlitt was about this period also 
 a popular lecturer, but the business was not so universal, 
 so well understood, nor so profitable as it has been made 
 
128 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 since. Both in writing and lecturing Coleridge made as 
 great use of Schiller as Byron did of Goethe ; and both 
 were more indebted to German literature than they were 
 disposed to confess. 
 
 But wheresoever their hippocrene, they were familiar with 
 the lays of Germany, and Byron (as quoted by Captain 
 Medwin) held it a proof that Coleridge was sensible enough 
 of his own errors, and burlesqued the Lakist and his own 
 style in his sonnet to the autumnal moon. The notion is so 
 strange as to deserve illustration, for which, however, and 
 the tale that follows it, it may be thought by some I owe an 
 apology as matters a little out of place. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 " Mild splendour of the various-vested night, 
 
 Mother of wildly-working visions, hail ! 
 I watch thy gliding, while, with wat'ry light, 
 
 Thy weak eye glimmers through a fleecy veil ; 
 And when thou lovest thy pale orb to shroud 
 
 Behind the gather'd darkness, blackness lost on high 
 And when thou dartest from the wind-rent cloud, 
 
 Thy placid lightning o'er th' awaken'd sky ; 
 Ah, such is hope ! as changeful and as fair ! 
 
 Now dimly peering on the wistful sight ; 
 Now hid behind the dragon-wing'd despair ; 
 
 But soon emerging, in her radiant might, 
 She, o'er the sorrow-clouded breast of care, 
 
 Sails like a meteor kindling in its flight." 
 
 This may or may not be a " quiz" upon Southey, and more 
 on Wordsworth ; but to my more particular history of the 
 fete mentioned in a preceding page. 
 
 The party was got together on a fine summer day by 
 Mr. Mansell Beynolds,* son of the dramatist, and a young 
 gentleman of considerable literary talent, as shown in a 
 
 * He made his public ddbut as editor of the " Keepsake." 
 
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 129 
 
 remarkable romance entitled " Miserimus," and other pro- 
 ductions of less questionable sobriety in taste and judgment. 
 The meet was at a very small egg-shell of a gardener's abode 
 on Highgate Hill, where he had taken lodgings for the 
 benefit of fresh air ; and consisted, besides those already 
 signified, of three or four others, to about the prescribed 
 number of the muses, including the inevitable " Old Tom 
 Hill" (Hook's favourite butt), and I am not quite certain, 
 from recollection, Mr. Luttrell and Ingoldsby. It was, 
 however, a jovial set, and bent on holiday frolic. The host 
 had provided excellent wines from his father's cellar in 
 town, but port had been forgotten, and obtained on the 
 spur of the moment from a tavern in Highgate. On Hook's 
 motion it was voted execrable, and every one called to fill a 
 bumper to toast the chair; which done, and the example 
 set, every glass but one was rapt down and broken, as being 
 too small for any gentlemanly wine. The rest were poised 
 upon inverted tumblers, and smashed by missiles, after the 
 fashion of Aunt Sally. But who can paint the astonished 
 Auncient Mariner, with glasses broken everywhere, and not 
 a drop to drink 1 I cannot tell by what process the master 
 spirit of the revel prevailed upon him to demolish his, the 
 last of the little glasses, by raising it on a tumbler, and 
 with hand balancing and eye glistening, smashing it with a 
 silver fork after several ineffectual "shies." It was a scene 
 so grotesque and extraordinary as hardly to be imagined ; 
 and the after-potations were obliged to be drunk from the 
 tumblers ! It may be somewhat absurd to revive the 
 memory of such a day, but it was long called to mind and 
 spoken of as one for a white stone by all who were present. 
 Hook's improvising was wonderful. Of one of half a dozen 
 songs, Mrs. Macpherson, the gardener's wife and superin- 
 tendent of the dinner, was the theme ; and what with its 
 uproarious mirth and the noise and hubbub of demolition, 
 she flitted pro tern., and afterwards told her lodger that she 
 
 k 
 
130 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 was so scared that she would not undergo a second edition, 
 no, " not for any consideration on earth." But the worst 
 of all was the reckoning when the feast was o'er. Next 
 day Reynolds (still rejoicing in the highjinks outbreak) 
 wrote to me with the particulars of twenty-seven bottles 
 of wine and one of brandy, which had somehow been 
 disposed of, and twenty-six small glasses and four tumblers 
 breakage. 
 
 Heaven forbid that I should insert an account of so 
 hilarious an orgie as a grave moral example ; but there 
 was not one of the party in any sort of excess to render him 
 ineligible for the best-ordered society. It was a daft, con- 
 tagious frolic, and an apotheosis of the poet Coleridge ! ! ! 
 Meo periculo. 
 
 But it would be an inexcusable wrong were I to bid 
 farewell to Coleridge with an impression such as this hetero- 
 geneous anecdote might create. It will do greater justice to 
 his memory to quote a passage from the letter of affectionate 
 advice addressed to his godchild, Adam Steinmetz Kinnaird, 
 and written only thirteen days before his death. In this 
 solemn document, after a fervently pious confession and 
 inculcation of Christian faith and hope, he says : — " I, too, 
 your godfather, have known what the enjoyments and 
 advantages of this life are, and what the more refined 
 pleasures which learning and intellectual power can bestow ; 
 and with all the experience which more than three-score 
 years can give, I now, on the eve of my departure, declare 
 to you (and earnestly pray that you may hereafter live and 
 act on the conviction), that health is a great blessing ; com- 
 petence, obtained by honourable industry, a great blessing ; 
 and a greater blessing it is to have kind, faithful, and 
 loving friends and relatives ; but that the greatest of all 
 blessings, as it is the most ennobling of all privileges, is to 
 be indeed a Christian." This touching appeal, issued from 
 where the sufferer lay " at the moment in great weakness 
 
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. 131 
 
 and heaviness, on a sick bed, hopeless of recovery, yet 
 without a prospect of a speedy removal ;" — but the release 
 came in a brief space, and the weary conflict of a four years 
 sick-room was o'er ! 
 
 , PT &w^^y<£ N 
 
 K 2 
 
( 132 ) 
 
 CAPTAIN CKOZIER. 
 
 T has now long been too certainly ascertained that Sir 
 John Franklin and his companions died the death of 
 the brave and patriotic, in the performance of their duties 
 in the Arctic seas. The devoted efforts of the widow have 
 shed a halo around the name of Franklin, which will excite 
 sympathy as well as admiration for ages to come. Nor did 
 the character and conduct of the man himself tend less 
 worthily to establish this high and lasting fame. His self- 
 possession and calm courage, his patient endurance and noble 
 faith, were tested in many a daring enterprise, and bore him 
 through many a trying scene triumphantly, even to the 
 final hour when the frozen north received his dying breath. 
 But the chastened splendour which has glorifiedhis setting 
 sun has in a considerable degree tended to involve in cloud 
 the parting lustre of his no less intrepid companions, and 
 particularly of the foremost among them, the captain of the 
 Terror, Francis Bawdon Moira Crozier. 
 
 I have known almost every distinguished individual of 
 that illustrious band, whose exploits in arctic and antarctic 
 seas have done honour to their country, even beyond what 
 her other heroes have done in battle. I have known a 
 Parry, Beaufort, Beechey ; I have the yet remaining happi- 
 ness to know a Sabine, a James Clark Boss,* 
 
 " The first whose sole 
 Stood on the north magnetic pole ; " 
 
 a Beverley, fit representative of that civil service of which 
 * Alas ! since lost. 
 
CAPTAIN CROZIER. 133 
 
 so many ornaments have struggled and perished in the 
 ministrations of humanity and discoveries of science ; and 
 among them all I have met with hardly one more worthy of 
 a niche in the temple of a grateful land, than the subject of 
 this brief tribute, so richly gifted with 
 
 " That gentleness 
 Which when it weds with manhood makes a man." 
 
 And I may observe, in passing, that this virtue, so justly 
 prized by the poet, has been pre-eminently conspicuous in 
 the devoted circle of Arctic explorers, from chief to cabin- 
 boy, engaged in duties from which dangers were never 
 distant, nor hardships ever removed, nor life itself to be 
 valued beyond the purchase of a few short hours. 
 
 Few of the oral descriptions I ever heard from these 
 dreary regions affected me more than the simple narrative 
 which James Ross once gave, of the morning meetings of 
 the officers and men, when, helpless in the giant grasp of 
 toppling glaciers and compress of icy winding-sheet, they 
 were borne they knew not whither, and gazed for a moment 
 at each other, and through their minds darted the doubt if 
 they would ever witness another break of day ; but none 
 ever whispered a word of fear, or suffered the spirit of 
 despondency to shake their constant souls. No ; they went. 
 to work with a will, and what prudence and energy could 
 accomplish was steadily performed : the issue was in the 
 disposal of a merciful and almighty God. 
 
 Captain Crozier was the son of Mr. Crozier, of Ban- 
 bridge, in the county of Down, and at the age of fourteen 
 entered the Royal Navy as a midshipman, in 1810. He was 
 in the Briton in 1814, when that vessel visited Pitcairn's 
 Island, and found it peopled by the descendants of Adams 
 and the mutineers of the Bounty, an event likely to make 
 an almost romantic impression upon a fine young Irish 
 sailor of eighteen years of age. In 1821 he was with Parry 
 in the Fury, and accompanied that excellent commander in 
 
134 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 other two of bis four Arctic voyages. After an arduous and 
 hazardous winter voyage, under his gallant friend and mess- 
 mate James Ross, across the Atlantic, to assist the whale- 
 ships frozen up in Davis' Straits, he once more sailed with 
 him as his second, on the famous expedition of the Erebus- 
 and Terror, with the purpose of scientific research and geo- 
 graphical discovery in the antarctic regions. The important 
 results of this voyage are familiar to the world ; and it is 
 no light thing to say that the great acknowledged abilities 
 of a Ross were admirably aided by the kindred talents of a 
 Crozier. Poor Weddell, in a trading vessel, had boldly 
 shown the way ; and it was reserved for these skilful and 
 undaunted leaders to explore seas and shores, and to observe 
 natural jmenomena, new to science and new to mankind. 
 In the requisite acquirements and experience they could 
 not be surpassed ; and it rests, in one instance, as a cherished 
 remembrance, in the other as a saddened recollection, on 
 my breast, that I lent my feeble hand to Crozier on the 
 beach at Chatham, when he tested and adjusted the instru- 
 ments for the voyage, on the accuracy and powers of which 
 so much of its success depended, and his watchful superior 
 on board took care and proved " All's Well ! " Alas ! I 
 repeated the same fondly expectant pleasure on the soft 
 green sward of Greenhithe, before he sailed with Franklin 
 on their last disastrous enterprise in 1845 ! After the toils 
 and waste of vital strength incident to such a service as 
 that in the southern hemisphere, he might reasonably have 
 pleaded the need of some repose, and indeed he declined the 
 offered command of the Arctic voyage, and only yielded to 
 assume the second post, in consequence of the "urgent 
 solicitation of his friend, Sir John Franklin, who (as Sir 
 James C. Ross relates) fully appreciated his noble character 
 and skilful seamanship." 
 
 " There's a divinity doth shape our ends, 
 Rough-hew them how we will." 
 
 It was the will of God ! This consideration must stop our 
 
CAPTAIN CROZIER. 135 
 
 lament and mitigate our sorrows for the terrible affliction 
 which has befallen us ; yet long, very long, shall tears un- 
 bidden flow over the tale of their hapless fate : — 
 
 " Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death, 
 Mixed with the tender anguish nature shoots 
 Through the wrung bosom of the dying man. 
 
 Alas ! no more shall he behold, 
 
 Nor friends nor sacred home. On every nerve 
 
 The deadly Winter seizes ; shuts up sense j 
 
 And o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold, 
 
 Lays him along the snow a stiffened corse — 
 
 Stretched out, and bleaching in the northern blast." 
 
 It is a very melancholy, because an unavailing regret, to 
 believe - that if, instead of endeavouring to reach succour by 
 the Fish E-iver and mainland of America, our perishing 
 countrymen had soiight the north in search of the whalers, 
 all that remained might have been saved, by arriving on the 
 shores of Lancaster Sound at the very time Sir James Ross 
 was there with two ships looking out to eairy them safe to 
 England. 
 
 I have but to acid that Captain Crozier was a Fellow of 
 the Royal Society, and, as its Obituaiy states, " distinguished 
 by his zeal for the advancement of science, and for the 
 exactness of his magnetic and other observations." Of his 
 private or personal cpialities I shall merely note that he was 
 remarkable for great equanimity and uniform cheerfulness ; 
 and I conclude with the fine and touching testimony to his 
 memory, by his faithful and warm-hearted friend Sir James 
 Ross — the witness of his bearing under many a mortal 
 struggle, the partaker in privations when a dead fox would 
 be picked up as a luxury, and in perils where the scale of 
 life quivered almost hopelessly on the agitated beam. " His 
 unbending integrity and truthfulness invariably won the 
 affection and respect of those he commanded, as well as the 
 admiration and firm friendship of all those officers under 
 
136 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 whom he served. His firm and unwavering confidence in 
 that Almighty Power, whose interposition had been so 
 frequently manifested in his preservation through number- 
 less dangers — where no other power could save — enabled 
 him at all times to meet with calmness and firmness every 
 impending danger ; " and it is a very striking and impres- 
 sive lesson to listen to the same authority, one who has 
 passed unscathed through a similar ordeal of inconceivable 
 vicissitudes, each threatening an instant wreck to nature, 
 and who adds, " "We doubt not that his Christian faith, 
 always simple and sincere, was his comfort and source of 
 peace in the last sad moments of his existence." 
 
 The manly and feeling memoir by Sir J. C. Ross, from 
 which I have copied these passages, has been circulated to 
 promote a subscription for a public memorial to be erected 
 in Crozier's native town, as a tribute to his gallantry and 
 heroic endurance ; and from the names already recorded, 
 there can be no question of sufficient funds. But I would 
 fain suggest that, while Ireland iiprears this trophy, and 
 links with it the name of the brave M'Clintock, there might 
 be a spare or separate provision for England to place a 
 modest memorial of some of her own Arctic heroes beside 
 Bellot's obelisk in front of Greenwich Hospital. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Twenty years have elapsed since the melancholy expedi- 
 tion under Eranklin and Crozier sailed from the British 
 shore, and yet, strange to say, so undying is hope, that an 
 American rumour is even now in circulation of the possi- 
 bility of Cajitain Crozier being still alive in some distant 
 
CAPTAIN CROZIER. 137 
 
 region among a tribe of Esquimaux. Would to Heaven I 
 could believe that sucli a miraculous preservation could be 
 true, and that the world of eternal ice could give up from 
 its cold embrace the lost, so long deplored, to the renovating 
 warmth of a grateful and rejoicing country. Wonderful 
 were it, if possible, that he might, even for a while, have 
 been saved from the calamities which have been traced so 
 nearly to an inevitably fatal close ; alas ! it is a fond illusion, 
 yet how unwilling we are to give it up. 
 
 I have spoken of Mr. Beverley, the surgeon, and of the 
 subscription for a monument to be erected to the memory of 
 the gallant Crozier ; and I avail myself of the publicity of 
 this notice to add the name of Alexander Fisher, also sur- 
 geon, who published an interesting account of one of Parry's 
 voyages, to the list of Arctic worthies ; and of inquiring 
 what has been done or is intended with regard to the Crozier 
 Memorial. 
 
 And, though not strictly relevant, I hope I may be par- 
 doned for diversifying this grievous narrative by recalling a 
 pleasantry which cheered a social hour with my cherished 
 friend on the eve of his departure. I had read somewhere 
 enough to prove that, though he was born in Ireland, he 
 was by descent, like myself, a Borderer. Of course he repu- 
 diated a family origin among these minions of the moon, who 
 at best were freebooters, and after the accession of James I. 
 to the English crown, when any lifted his neighbour's cattle, 
 
 " To serve for beef 
 " Was nae freebooter, but a thief ! " 
 
 Luckily for my argument, I fell upon a legend of three 
 hundred years ago, which told of the Crozier s of Liddesdale 
 having " slaine a Fenwicke," and used him with extra- 
 ordinary cruelty ; in requital of which, twenty-seven years 
 after, the Fenwick clan, led by John of the Stone House, 
 murdered several of the Croziers in their beds ! This, as 
 usual, created a hubbub in the Marches, and there was 
 
138 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 giving up of transgressors, and much " fending and proving," 
 till a meeting of Wardens was held to preserve the peace at 
 the Redswire. Here Sir John Carmichael, Scotch Keeper 
 of Liddesdale, and Sir John Forster, the English Warden of 
 the Middle Marches, had their negotiation brought to a 
 rather common conclusion of such assemblages ; for we are 
 told that " all went on well till a Crozier shot at Sir William 
 Fenwicke," and a serious brawl began, which ended in the 
 death of Sir George Heron, who had surrendered the Stone 
 House culprit to Carmichael, the defeat of the English 
 party, and the capture of Sir John Forster and others on 
 his side. But it was not for this, I apologized, that the 
 Croziers were transported to Ireland, and the story made a 
 hearty laugh where reigned friendly fellowship and every 
 disposition to enjoy the fleeting hour. Sad it is to think on 
 now ; and even more distressing to have the dream of a life 
 restored renewed by the romantic statements of the Ame- 
 rican navigator who is at this time in communication with 
 native Esquimaux, and translating revelations gathered 
 from them. I fear, I fear it is but vainly hoping against 
 hope. 
 
( 139 ) 
 
 THOMAS CUBITT 
 
 THEOPHRASTITS has a curious treatise, in which he 
 traces the resemblance of certain human beings to 
 various animals ; and we have all seen, and see around us 
 every day, persons of whom we are prone to say, " He is 
 like a lion," or " How got he that goose-look ] " or " He is 
 the image of an ape." In our days such speculations may 
 not to every one seem wholly idle ; for do not Mr. Darwin 
 and Professor Huxley affirm that man is only a development 
 from lower simial species, effected in the long lapse of ages 1 
 But the ancient philosojmer spoke merely of resemblances, 
 not of affinities. And certainly we do see in many persons 
 traits of character, if not of appearance, which suggest 
 these resemblances. 
 
 Now, though Thomas Cubitt, and his countenance, could 
 not be compared to any of these lower types of creation, 
 yet, following the odd analogy, he was born a Bee. And 
 the analogy holds good in various ways. There was a quiet, 
 humming way about him ; and at his busiest, with an over- 
 whelming amount of business to do, he seemed to be moving 
 about without effort or hurry, from sweet to sweet, to fulfil 
 his work and store his hive. You might almost fancy he was 
 an idle personage, and festina lente — make haste slowly — ■ 
 his inexorable motto. But his beehood was most strongly 
 exemplified in his admirable constructiveness. Mr. Charles 
 Willich, the able actuary of the University Life Assurance 
 Society, and a first-rate mathematician and geometrician, 
 has demonstrated, in a capital essay, that the cells of bees 
 
140 MEN I HAVE KNOWN". 
 
 are formed upon principles which evince the perfection of 
 capacity for depositing the largest quantities in the most 
 scientific forms. And the same might be shown of Thomas 
 Cubitt's thousands of buildings of every order and descrip- 
 tion. The wonderful works of the bees were equalled in 
 applicability to their purposes, and far excelled in variety — 
 hardly two or three of the human cells being alike, and 
 every difference leading to some requisite conveniency or 
 corresponding improvement. 
 
 And then the genuine simplicity of mind and manner of 
 the man. One day I happened to translate some- classical 
 or foreign language, and he expressed his regret that his 
 talent for such acquisition had not been cultivated. I 
 remarked, that I wished, instead, that I could build a house 
 as he could ; and his only reply was, " Well, I ought to be 
 contented. I believe I have never built a house without 
 giving satisfaction ; and I am sure I never disposed of one 
 without doing my utmost to render it safe and eligible to 
 its purchaser, or comfortable and agreeable to its tenant." 
 This was the fair and true course to amass a large fortune. 
 One never heard of a complaint against Thomas Cubitt ; 
 and, what was stranger still, though he was most prosperous 
 throughout his life, no one appeared to envy or malign 
 him, as is so generally the case with successful individuals. 
 
 He was more taciturn than talkative ; but his talk was 
 the pith of sound sense, and its mode of utterance so 
 modest, that hearers would hardly imagine the depths of the 
 oracles to which they were listening. Prince Albert, Lord 
 Truro, and other persons, the most competent to form a 
 judgment, duly appreciated his lucid demonstrations of 
 architectural fitness, and the arrangement of all the compli- 
 cations which practical convenience or symmetry demand 
 for every part of a design. His complete mastery alike of 
 the comprehensive whole, and the minute details, appeared 
 to be merely natural — an instinctive endowment — not the 
 fruit of laborious study and immense experience. And his 
 
THOMAS CUBITT. 141 
 
 resources were inexhaustible. He could discern capabilities 
 where less gifted observers could see only insuperable diffi- 
 culties. Thus he built large towns on tracts of ground 
 which seemed to defy utility ; and vast and healthy popula- 
 tions were settled on localities which lay apparently in a 
 condition of desert impervious to reclamation. Look, now, 
 and view these large areas covered with noble mansions, 
 handsome squares and fine streets, inhabited by high rank 
 and thriving commerce — centres of fashion, busy life, 
 industry, and wealth. The talent of one man has thus 
 wonderfully altered the face of, and enlarged and improved 
 the greatest city in the world. 
 
 I once enjoyed the treat of a two or three days' tete-a-tete 
 sojourn with him at Denbies, his seat in Surrey, just at the 
 time he had finished the handsome new residence there, and 
 was getting ready to move his family into it. The oppor- 
 tunity was very interesting to me, and made a lasting im- 
 pression. His explanations of the juans, and the marvellous 
 adaptation of commodiousness to every particular branch — 
 the whole combined and working like clockwork — struck 
 me as the perfection of the builder's art. Answer, O my 
 reader, if you happen to dwell in a rather ordinary London 
 lodging, what would you think of, and how would you 
 enjoy, windows that opened lightly, doors that shut noise- 
 lessly, locks and hinges that turned quietly, blinds that 
 acted easily, fireplaces that could not smoke, waters (hard, 
 soft, cold, hot) ever ready for every possible use, warmth to 
 regulate at pleasure, and ventilation pure and thorough — I 
 repeat, reader, would not you deem these achievements of 
 skilful building blessings for which to be thankful all day and 
 all night, whilst you felt them all around you, without know- 
 ing whence they sprang or how they came 1 Massed in this 
 manner comforts are luxuries. Not five per cent, of even 
 the upper ten thousand are aware of the contrast producible 
 at the same cost, by work well or ill done. The generality 
 of independent people can only appreciate these domestic 
 
142 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 * 
 
 comforts in a limited degree, and they are unknown to "the 
 million." And what do I mean by writing about them ? 
 It is simply to point the lesson that comforts are in the end 
 cheaper than discomforts ; and that it needs but honest 
 contractors to fulfil their specifications, and well-directed 
 moderate ability in the builders, to render the habitations 
 of every class of the community vastly more salubrious and 
 enjoyable than they now are. Follow the example Thomas 
 Cubitt has set before you. Be just, and fear not ; be 
 skilful, and much happiness will attend your works. 
 
 The Denbies, independently of its comfort as a modem 
 dwelling, was a remarkable place. The old house was long 
 the residence of the former county member, Mr. Denison, 
 as the new house is for the new county member, Mr. George 
 Cubitt. There was an interpolation of the nephew of the 
 former Lord Albert Conyngham, afterwards Lord Londes- 
 borough, of good literary and archaeological repute ; but 
 before either it was the property of M. Jonathan Tyers, the 
 quondam proprietor of Vauxhall Gardens, and a very curious 
 character in his way. Every one has heard something of 
 Vauxhall in former days, with its shady groves and trim 
 alleys, its glittering lamps and brilliant fireworks, its slim 
 sandwiches and "rack" punch, its rope - dancing, its 
 music, and varied entertainments for the votaries of 
 pleasure. Well, the head of this scene of revel was 
 himself addicted to be a gloomy ascetic anchorite. The 
 beautiful heights of Denbies, vying with Mr. Grisell's 
 ISTorbury Park, were disfigured to be the antitype of Yaux- 
 hall. Instead of a promenade to look down upon Dorking 
 and the charming landscape, there was a lonely walk, but 
 not for lovers, terminated by skulls and cross-bones, and 
 other paraphernalia of the undertaker's gloomy craft. 
 There were inscriptions inculcating the vanity of human 
 life — a solemn protest, as it were, against the very existence 
 of such a place as "Vauxhall ; and hither the morbid man 
 bent his lonely steps, for days and seasons feeding his spirit 
 
THOMAS CUBITT. 143 
 
 with viands thinner than the sandwiches and weaker than 
 the "rack" at his other establishment ; whilst he indulged 
 in the vagaries of a wretched misanthropist, and pale 
 
 " Melancholy marked him for its own ! " 
 
 I hope I may take credit for the suggestion ; but my host, 
 who had endured this in his customary quiet manner, 
 required only a hint to rid himself of what was left of the 
 monstrous incongruity, and make a clean sweep of the abomi- 
 nations, and bury the bones. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Cubitt realized one of the most considerable 
 fortunes ever accumulated, even in his very profitable line 
 of business ; though public report, I have reason to believe, 
 did exaggerate the large amount. Still his wealth was of 
 the foremost order, even among the rank who reap the most 
 abundant harvest from great successful operations, and 
 challenge the admiration yielded by the world to the 
 honourably fortunate. It is something to be told of the 
 beginnings of such vast affluence, and there is no privacy to 
 be hurt by briefly condensing the story of his own rise as 
 given me in one of our conversations by this most worthy 
 man. At first there was the usual struggle between limited 
 means and aspiring emulation. By degrees, assiduity and 
 enterprise won their way, and some jorogress was made. By 
 good management and deservedly high credit, the necessary 
 funds were obtained, but (as must be expected) at consider- 
 able cost for interest, so as to eat far into and much diminish 
 the beneficial returns. This was not to be endured any 
 longer than cordd be helped. At last, however, there was 
 so important an amount of structure above ground and 
 tangible, though heavily burdened by the loans alluded to, 
 that the builder pondered how he might devise a remedy, 
 and extricate himself from the oppression on his shoulders, 
 and get on more freely with his accumulating undertakings. 
 What has since become a very common practice, was at that 
 
144 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 period little known and rarely resorted to. It was to borrow 
 money on fair legal terms, and sufficient security, from an 
 insurance office. Mr. Cubitt turned bis mind to the subject, 
 showed the certainty of his substance, and obtained from 
 one of these establishments the amount he wanted. Every 
 incumbrance was immediately paid off, and the saving 
 speedily amounted to some thousands of pounds a year. 
 From that hour he never knew what required a pecuniaiy 
 care ; his straightforward path lay open before him, there 
 was no obstacle, and he had but to go on and prosper, which 
 he did to an extent, I believe, absolutely so vast, that ,he 
 himself could not, or never tried, to calculate it, although it 
 was his careful custom to keep an account of everything he 
 possessed constantly before him. But however vast, it is 
 very satisfactory to hear, as I have learnt, that it is as 
 worthily inherited as it was worthily earned. 
 
 In private and social life Mr. Cubitt was an excellent 
 companion. For the former, he had the rich store of intelli- 
 gence, especially on his own peculiar subjects, of which I 
 have spoken. For the latter, he possessed the grand 
 essential quality of being a good listener. It is impossible 
 for me to imagine him interrupting even a prolix twaddler ; 
 and as for those who had really anything to tell which 
 merited hearing, he was all that the most exigent talker 
 could desire. His private charity was great, and on the 
 whole, I could not but look upon him as another Man of 
 Ross upon a gigantic scale. He was universally esteemed. 
 In him the world beheld a wise man, and his reward 
 throughout his entire course was to find that wisdom's ways 
 were ways of pleasantness, and all her paths were peace. 
 He died in ripe old age, and was sincerely lamented by a 
 widely extended circle of rich and poor. 
 
THOMAS CUBITT. 145 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 One grieves, at last, to take leave of so estimable a man ; 
 a biographer is sorry to part from so gratifying a subject. 
 I would therefore amplify the little I have written respecting 
 Mr. Thomas Cubitt, and set down somewhat more par- 
 ticularly a few matters for which I had not room in the 
 excellent original medium in which my sketch appeared. 
 
 On the grand scale, it is enough to recall the picture of 
 London as altered by his marvellous works. Here, he 
 found it Mud and left it Belgravia ! There, it had not 
 inaptly been called an Isle of Dogs, and he left it rapidly 
 growing to be a populous city, alive with industry and 
 gorged with trade. Elsewhere, in many a locality, he made 
 filth give way to cleanliness, meanness to respectability, and 
 sickness to salubrity. He not only set the example, but 
 proceeded a great way with the accomplishment of these 
 stupendous designs. Pinilico he nearly covered as a dry 
 land of luxurious residences, magnificent mansions, and 
 palaces, now spreading over the adjacent district with such 
 expansive force, and apparently in a style not unworthy of 
 their model. Stopping to improve and adorn many a place 
 adjoining, such as Knightsbridge, and many a spot between, 
 he adjourned from the "West to the East, and, though the 
 reverse of the way of the wise men, showed that true 
 wisdom knew whither to travel for a beneficent purpose, 
 and reclaimed a barren marshy waste to be the well-drained 
 and healthy inhabitation of a multitude of busy and pro- 
 ductive human beings, whose honest toils reward themselves 
 and enrich their country. Contemplating the extent and 
 magnitude of these "doings," we might almost fancy their 
 modest author, forgetting for a moment his own placid 
 nature, and exclaiming, like Coriolanus, " Alone I did it !" 
 
 But neither the Thames above Battersea nor the Thames 
 below Bridge was the only part of the river which 
 
 L 
 
146 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 attracted his attention with the view to its entire improve- 
 ment as the noble aqueduct connected with the metropolis. 
 Above twenty years ago he printed a few copies of a 
 pamphlet for private circulation, in which he threw out 
 some important suggestions for combining a pure flow of the 
 stream with the drainage of the capital. I have just turned 
 to a copy of this literary morsel (I imagine the only one of 
 the author) of sixteen pages, and after dilating on putrid 
 waters and noxious vapours, and the other filthy poisons 
 which disgrace civilization, I read what I had taken for 
 quite new at a much more recent date ; for the writer says 
 (and he points out the best and most practical methods of 
 effecting the scheme), " My idea is, that the best means of 
 obviating the evil would be to conduct the sewer drainage at 
 once from the west and north parts of London, by the 
 shortest and straightest lines that can be found, to a place to 
 the east of the town (and perhaps the lowlands of Plaistow 
 or Barking Level would be the best calculated for the 
 purpose), and there, near to the river, to form one or more 
 very large reservoirs to receive the discharge from the 
 sewers, where it should remain during the flow of the tide, 
 having gates or sluices to be opened as the tide goes down ; 
 so that it would only be allowed to mix with the river when 
 on its passage to the sea, the gates being closed before the 
 tide changes. By this plan none of the sewer water could 
 travel back to London." Mr. Cubitt further expresses his 
 belief that it would be desirable and practicable to extend 
 his plan for the purification of the river as high as Brentford 
 and Kichmond ; and discusses the experimental question of 
 the utilization of the manure, with regard to which he 
 indicates several modes of action applicable either to the 
 liquid or solid form. I have no observation to offer on this 
 remarkable piece of foresight. The work has just been 
 completed lower down, and I trust that what the seer 
 pointed at higher up, will be speedily undertaken and 
 acconijDlished. And let us give the honour where it is due. 
 
THOMAS CUBITT. 174 
 
 But it was not only to the benefit of the masses, out of which 
 he sometimes employed more than 2,000 at a time, that this 
 worthy man (who began life as a journeyman carpenter, and 
 went a voyage to f India as a ship's carpenter for improve- 
 ment) turned the light of his clear and comjirehensive 
 faculties. He was alike early in the field now so earnestly 
 (and not always so judiciously) cultivated with reference to 
 the mechanical classes. His attention was anxiously devoted 
 to the comforts of his workmen, and I have heard anecdotes 
 of his caring for and liberality to them which would brightly 
 illustrate an all but paternal character. But he dealt in acts 
 — not flattery ! 
 
 "When his extensive premises on Thames Bank were burnt 
 down, whereby he lost many thousand pounds, his first care 
 was to supply his men with tools in the place of those they 
 had lost, and fit up his establishment so that they could 
 return to their occupation in one short week. For them 
 and their families he had also schools, libraries, and other 
 provisions — wholesome food and temperate refreshments at 
 low rates, and, in short, everything that a generous master 
 and friend could do for their comfort and well-being. 
 
 The success of the gigantic building speculations to which 
 I have alluded was much accelerated by being founded on 
 an original consolidation, if I may so express it, of all the 
 building trades under his own auspices, with foremen to 
 each, in his great establishment in Gray's Inn. Here were 
 they all congregated together, and instead of the separate 
 system, as heretofore, of each for himself, Thomas Cubitt 
 had every class — plumbers, painters, glaziers, and all — 
 under his own eye and in his own pay. Thence did he 
 make Highbury a handsome town ; circumpopulate Newing- 
 ton Green with commodious suburban abodes and villas ; 
 cover the waste near the Gray's Inn Road with handsome 
 squares and streets from Gordon and Tavistock to Euston ; 
 redeem the infamous Five Fields of Chelsea (about 140 
 acres) from robberies and murders, to adorn them with 
 
 l 2 
 
M8 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the fine residences we see ; and, finally, to raise South Bel- 
 gravia on the vast open desolate district near which nobody 
 ever went, to be — what shall I say 1 — the residence of the 
 wealthiest and greatest — " the height of fashion." 
 
 The late Alderman — and two-years Lord Mayor — was 
 several years his brother's junior, and was taken very early 
 in life into partnership with him. They went on together, 
 in perfect harmony, for many years ; but when Thomas 
 entered upon his enormous speculation in " Belgravia," 
 William preferred the more ordinary business which had 
 grown up to be so large, in Gray's Inn Lane, which was relin- 
 quished to him, whilst his aspiring partner gave himself up 
 entirely to his new and more extensive undertaking. How 
 both succeeded we have had conspicuous public demon- 
 stration. 
 
 I intended to tell a good deal more of that strange mortal, 
 Mr. Jonathan Tyers, the lessee of Vauxhall Gardens and 
 the owner of Denbies, which he bought in 1734, and whence 
 he was removed by Death, whose image and imagery he so 
 preposterously courted, in 1767, when it was purchased by 
 the Hon. Peter King, and passed from his son, Lord King, 
 to Mr. Denison, &c, "as aforesaid." But, though a psy- 
 chological curiosity, it is not worth while in a volume of 
 this kind. 
 
 By degrees all his sepulchral decorations have been 
 swept away, and nothing but some fine cedars remain 
 to bear witness to his gloomy and fantastic existence during 
 nearly a quarter of a century on a spot where Nature is 
 lavish of her bounties; for the site is beautiful and the views 
 around varied and charming. His green alleys terminating 
 in funereal paraphernalia ; his clock, which struck every 
 minute (beating Bennett of Cheapside all to nothing), as it 
 signified how swiftly time was evanishing ; his raven 
 uttering printed labels from its beak to the same effect ; 
 his dismal library, and his temples and cells ornamented 
 with male and female skulls, and overflowing with the most 
 
THOMAS CUBITT. 149 
 
 lugubrious diatribes ever uttered by the muse, which sang 
 here in many a wearisome strain, — 
 
 " What place is this ? A universal school, 
 The master Death, the scholar is the Soul ; " 
 
 and the exhortation, " Confess thy faults and mend." 
 
 Truly excellent advice ; but I must bid adieu to it and 
 my meagre theme, for the life of Thomas Cubitt, though 
 one of the busiest, was not one of the most eventful. Yet 
 would I draw from it a lesson far more useful than could be 
 gathered from the misanthropic warnings of his predecessor 
 in Denbies. With this, like Abernethy, I would recom- 
 mend the reading of my " Book " to the members of all 
 Mechanics' Institutions. Perseverance and integrity will 
 win the day. Thomas Cubitt did not lie asleep, but stood 
 at the foot of the ladder, and he looked up to the top. Like 
 another Jacob, he saw that it ascended on high, and he 
 determined to climb it. To this task he strenuously ad- 
 dressed his energies, and he conquered step after step with 
 unflagging resolution, till at the last, speaking humanly and 
 not as of angels, he mounted to the full enjoyment of 
 every blessing which this world can bestow. Finis coronat 
 opus. 
 
 WILLIAM CUBITT. 
 
 This gentleman I also knew well for many pleasant 
 years, and might offer a notice of him as particular as 
 that of his elder brother, who brought him forward and 
 gave him the world to cultivate with an auspicious beginning. 
 But I should have to go over similar grounds, and enlarge 
 on the similar excellent moral qualities which raised him 
 also to great wealth and consideration. Shrewd and dis- 
 
150 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 cerning, of remarkably placid manner and kindly disposition 
 — suffice it to say, that lie was a member of the Legislature, 
 and for two successive and very important years Lord 
 Mayor of London. He lias left no male heir to inherit his 
 name ; but of his three daughters, one is married to Mr. 
 William Humphrey (his worthy successor in the representa- 
 tion of Andover) ; another to his brother, Mr. John 
 Humphrey ; and the eldest to Sir Josejjh Olliffe, the eminent 
 surgeon in Paris. 
 
( 151 ) 
 
 LORD DE TABLEY. 
 
 "ATEARLY fifty years ago Lord de Tabley, then Sir John 
 -Ll Fleming Leicester, opened his Gallery of Paintings 
 by British Artists at his residence in Hill Street, Berkeley 
 Square, to public view. It created an epoch in the British 
 school of Fine Arts, only exceeded in effect by the founda- 
 tion of the Royal Academy, under the patronage of his 
 Majesty King George III. By nature richly endowed, and 
 having cultivated Ms tastes by Continental travel, especially 
 in Italy by the study of the ancient masters, Sir John 
 Leicester became a judge of the highest order in every 
 branch of graphic and plastic production. In sculpture, as 
 in painting, and in all the varieties of workmanship known 
 as vertu, he was an exquisite connoisseur. It seemed as if 
 no deficiency could escape his notice, or the slightest want of 
 finish elude his detection • whilst, on the other hand, as 
 with every true lover of the Arts, beauties of every kind 
 were discovered, pointed out, and dwelt upon with the warm 
 expression of gratified feeling and genuine admiration. 
 
 Thus was Sir John well qualified to sustain the high 
 position he adopted as the friend and patron of our native 
 school. At that period it was far from receiving such 
 encouragement as it does in the present day ; and, in truth, 
 it may be confessed that then, with some few exceptions, it 
 hardly deserved it. But there was gold in the mine ; and it 
 was for a man such as I have described to set the example 
 of exploring and bringing its treasures to light. Possessed 
 
152 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 of ample fortune, and of a princely disposition (princely, be 
 it also remarked, in all the ordinary affairs of life), he 
 became a liberal purchaser of the best works of the time ; 
 and his skill and competency in selecting " the best " soon 
 became so manifest as to be resolved into a standard of 
 excellence, which the foremost artists were not reluctant to 
 acknowledge. The result was the tender of commissions 
 wherever superior merit was shown, and, beyond that 
 generous course, the constant seeking out of less prominent, 
 or possibly latent talent, to supply new ornaments to the 
 richly accumulating stores of the Leicester Gallery. To take 
 a young or an unknown artist of promise into his councils 
 was always a source of great satisfaction to its owner ; nor 
 did he confine himself to commissions or advice as to execu- 
 tion, but occasionally forwarded the actual education of the 
 individual whose early attempts indicated genius. Hogan, 
 the eminent Irish sculptor, for instance, was, I believe, 
 enabled to visit Rome and complete his studies through his 
 liberal aid. 
 
 The declared object to which Sir John Leicester zealously 
 adhered throughout, and for which he opened his gallery, was 
 "the advantage the profession might derive from a choice 
 selection of their productions being seen, unmixed with 
 foreign works ; " and when, by the information of agents, or 
 private friends, whom he enlisted in the cause, he caught 
 sight of a prize, it was quite exhilarating to witness his 
 triumph in procuring, by munificent outlay, the possession 
 of any performance of " a class worthy to hang with the rest 
 of the specimens he had (as he expressed it) been so fortu- 
 nate in bringing together." I had several times occasion to 
 note the proofs of his pure and fastidious taste. Some 
 studies of Lady Hamilton, by Romney, he deemed too 
 sketchy * but he had his charming group of " Titania." 
 
 * They were in the possession of his pupil, T. Stewardson. I 
 thought them delicious, and know not what has become of them ; 
 unless they may now adorn a mansion of the successors of Mr. 
 Remington, at that period a wealthy banker. 
 
LORD DE TABLET. 153 
 
 Hilton's highly-finished "Una" did not altogether please 
 him ; and he gave a commission, and got the " Europa, 
 perhaps the finest of the artist's works. Stothard's " Fete 
 Champetre " failed to satisfy his judgment. Sketches of the 
 " Opening of Heaven " and " Vision of the "White Horse," 
 and — a remarkable variety for the President — a " Bacchante," 
 in the Venetian style, supplied all he wished of West. As 
 to Fuseii, " Friar Tuck " and another were enough from 
 that wild and imaginative painter. There was a superb 
 "Avalanche" by Loutherbourg. But a delicious Wilson, 
 a lovely " Sunrise " by Collins, the "Cottage Door" of Gains- 
 borough, a Holland, or aCallcott landscape; Leslie's "Anne 
 Page;" Opie's latest and best painting, " Musidora;" pieces 
 by Turner, Morland, Bourgeois, Beechey, Owen, Shee, 
 Northcote, Ward, Howard, and others, enriched this splendid 
 exhibition, crowned by a Reynolds ; and by far the finest of 
 Lawrence's prime of life productions, the admirable whole- 
 length, as " Hope," of the lady of the mansion, whose living 
 loveliness surpassed the highest beauties of the painter's art. 
 A propos of this captivating lady, I remember a couplet, in 
 one of the many laudatory poems the Leicester Gallery 
 elicited, which truly defined this charming whole-length, 
 portrait. Eulogizing the general effect of the room, the 
 writer points to this excellent individual likeness, its greatest 
 ornament, and says, — 
 
 " For, enter its circle with hopes howe'er fair, 
 And its fairest of hopes you'll find realized there." 
 
 These, and such as these, were what his eye and fancy pre- 
 ferred; his sense loved to dwell on the sweet and graceful and 
 beautiful in Art. He could justly appreciate and admire 
 the sublime, or the wonderful in anatomical execution ; but 
 these were not for his daily intercoms and pleasurable 
 communion ; and, as for massacres or martyrdoms, he would 
 none of them ; even clever battle-pieces were only less 
 disliked. His gallery was consequently clear of ugliness, 
 
154 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 painful representations, and bloodshed ; altogether a thing of 
 beauty, to be long held in remembrance for its own diversified 
 display. 
 
 Mr. Young, engraver, a good judge of Art, and then 
 keeper of the British Institution, Pall Mall, published a 
 catalogue of the collection, as it was arranged in Hill Street^ 
 which was written with sound judgment, and superbly 
 illustrated ; but everything that Sir John Leicester did, or 
 caused to be done, was done in a munificent manner. I 
 must point attention to the fact that this private exhibition 
 was the first example of the kind on a large scale in 
 England.* 
 
 Not only did it serve the patriotic purpose for which it 
 was opened, the bringing meritorious artists into public 
 notice, the appreciation and reward of their productions, 
 and the effectual encouragement of our native school ; but 
 it extended and established the fame of that school among 
 the nations of Europe, which had never before been willing 
 to recognise its excellence, but, on the contrary, were prone 
 to treat it as merely pretentious, and really restricted by 
 the trading narrow-mindedness and gloomy climate of the 
 country. The other side of the picture was now demon- 
 strated, and the cultivation of the genius we truly possessed 
 became an every-day interest. Not confined to British Art, 
 but extending over the whole range, the Grosvenor, Stafford, 
 and other noble galleries were thrown open during the 
 London season, and occasionally free admission, by cards 
 readily attainable, was granted to the Northumberland, Peel, 
 and other similar treasuries. The British Institution in 
 Pall Mall also flourished from the same source ; but closer 
 still, in point of composition, though later in point of time, 
 have been the Yernon and Sheepshanks collections, whose 
 
 * In justice to a predecessor, I must mention that a private gen- 
 tleman, a Mr. Steers, residing in the Temple, had some time before 
 thrown his small collection open in the same manner to public view 
 
LORD DE TABLE Y. 155 
 
 liberal owners adhered to the Leicester model, in having 
 native works unmixed with any by the illustrious ancient 
 foreign masters. Thus much was done towards extending 
 the influence of the Arts. The press, previously all but 
 silent, took up the theme ; and that which was rarely and 
 scarcely noticed has become the topic for news and comment 
 to every periodical that is published, from John o' Groat's to 
 the Land's End. 
 
 The first who followed the example of Sir John Leicester 
 was Mr. Fawkes, who opened his admirable collection of 
 water-colour drawings in the same manner, and thus helped 
 to spread the appreciation of another style of the native 
 school, in which, indeed, it did then, as it does now, stand 
 unapproached in excellence. Crowds at both places wel- 
 comed the privilege. I witnessed a scene of peculiar interest 
 in Hill Street, where Mr. Bone, the unrivalled artist in 
 enamel painting, voluntarily presented Sir John with an 
 exquisite copy from Gainsborough, as a tribute, on public 
 grounds, to his munificent patronage of the Arts. I think 
 it was about this time that he observed the youthful ability 
 displayed by poor Behnes, and had executed by him the bust 
 of the President West, which was his first step to popularity, 
 and the fame and fortune in the end so unfortunately sacri- 
 ficed. In sculpture Sir Richard Westniacott was an especial 
 favourite ; and I well remember being invited to see his 
 " Nymph and Zephyr," and say if, in my humble opinion, it 
 was equal to the " Psyche," already one of the most prized 
 Art possessions of the noble owner of the Tabley treasures. 
 And so he pursued his course in every branch. Wherever 
 genius rose into view or could be traced, it was taken by 
 the hand and cherished with a generous liberality, not the 
 less valuable because it was accompanied by the taste and 
 discrimination of a very perfect judge of artistic merits ; nor 
 was he himself deficient in practical skill, of the manifesta- 
 tion of which I may record a very strange development. 
 Plis lordship was subject to very sudden and severe head- 
 
156 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ache — neuralgia we must now write it — and could only be 
 relieved by the application of leeches about the forehead and 
 temples. It was a grief to see him obliged to retire from 
 the social circle which he was enjoying with so much plea- 
 sure, and hasten to his own apartment to seek his remedy. 
 For a few hours he would allow no one to be disturbed, but 
 insisted on being left alone to his suffering. And how, 
 think you, had he beguiled the time 1 He had adopted the 
 palette made by his discharged friends the leeches, turned 
 off upon a plate, and with no other colour painted an 
 autumnal landscaj)e, parts of which Rembrandt might have 
 acknowledged, and the whole as extraordinary as the medium 
 employed. It was an amusing whim, but it diverted the 
 painful hour, and — what I fancy was the patient's chief 
 desire — soothed the uneasiness and sympathetic attention of 
 his family and guests. 
 
 When on a visit to Tabley House, I was often led to 
 speculate on the problem, if there were any natural connec- 
 tion between the fine eye for the Arts and the fine eye (joined, 
 however, to the firm nerve) for the sports of the field. Sir 
 John was the surest shot I ever saw. No matter what rose 
 to the air, it was doomed to come down before his gun. 
 Partridge, pheasant, woodcock, wild duck, or snipe, his aim 
 was unerring ; and with the pistol he was equally certain. 
 A luckless wagtail hopping on the lawn, or a swallow peep- 
 ing over the parapet of the old tower, if either had the mis- 
 fortune to be challenged for the proof of this remarkable 
 skill, rarely failed to afford its fatal and cruel confirmation. 
 A card was preserved in the library on which the figure of 
 a shamrock-leaf was closely represented by a trine hole 
 which was made, I think, by three bullets fired at " duel- 
 ling distance," and winning a considerable bet for the Prince 
 of Wales, who had backed his friend to hit the card thrice 
 successively, and even within a limited circle. The incident 
 is mentioned as characteristic of the men and the times. 
 
 The story of this wager recalls to mind the particulars of 
 
LORD DE TABLEY. 157 
 
 the bestowal of the peerage rank upon the already dis- 
 tinguished English baronet and gentleman. The honour 
 came, without solicitation or expectation, from the Prince 
 Regent, who had reasons for esteeming Sir John Leicester 
 as one of his most devoted personal friends. It was at the 
 breakfast-table in Cheshire that the important missive was 
 delivered which intimated the sovereign intention to bestow 
 this elevated distinction. The sensation may be imagined ; 
 and of consequence there ensued much discussion on various 
 points, but principally upon the choice of title. My readers 
 may not be aware of the difficulties which frequently beset 
 this knotty question. Ancient titles in abeyance, second 
 and third titles attached to others of a higher order in the 
 same person, disputed titles, titles long lapsed but yet not 
 beyond the possibility of revival — all these, and perhaps 
 more, stand in the way of selection. In our baronet's case, 
 however, there was no obstacle of the kind ; it was from the 
 copia of lineage and right to bear arms that his trouble 
 arose. He quartered arms from the Conquest, the arms of 
 the great Warennes, and on the same shield were those 
 of the regal O' Byrnes of Ireland, of Fleming, and of Ley- 
 cester or Leicester. It was a complete embarras de richesses. 
 I ventured to advocate Fitz-Warenne ; and I presume I had 
 at the time a youthful ally of the same opinion (as he has 
 since assumed the "Warren as a prefix) ; but his father had 
 somehow imbibed* a prejudice against any chance of a bar 
 sinister, and finally decided on a clear descent for de Tabley, 
 observing that the date of Edward III. was old enough for 
 any title. A wit said that the illustrious patron of the 
 British Arts should have chosen de Tableaux as the most 
 appropriate. It is a pleasure to add, that, though his fame 
 as a patron of Art was earned at no small expenditure, even 
 the cost was repaid ; a portion of the gallery which was sold 
 
 # Probably from reading the curious history of the bar sinister on 
 the Grosvenor arras, by his ancestral kinsman, Peter Leicester the 
 historian of the County Palatine. 
 
158 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 agreeably to his bequest, for family arrangements, realizing 
 above two thousand pounds more than the seven thousand, 
 their original cost. Were these pictures for sale now, I 
 believe at the current rate, and much owing to the impulse 
 given as I have indicated, they would at least double the 
 amount to their fortunate possessors. I might mention that 
 Lord de Tabley was the earliest in distinguishing the genius 
 of Turner, some of whose finest productions were painted 
 for him. The artist was occasionally invited to Tabley 
 House, where some, I would say, eccentric instances of his 
 parsimony caused both wonder and entertainment. I use the 
 word " eccentric," for, in the midst of his singular habits, I 
 have myself known occasions when Turner was spontaneously 
 liberal, and even generous. 
 
 At the first period in the time of which I am treating 
 lithography was invented ; and, as it bears on the Arts and 
 their cultivation, it will not be deemed " out of keeping " 
 that Lord de Tabley should have at once stood forward 
 among those who hastened to welcome the new device. In 
 the same spirit, I may almost say " ruling passion," he pro- 
 jected a quarto volume (with a popular octavo and woodcuts 
 to follow) of British Ichthyology, to be edited, with occa- 
 sional remarks, by a literary friend, and richly illustrated 
 with " engravings executed under his own immediate in- 
 spection, from correct drawings in his possession." Mr. S. 
 Pether, an able draughtsman, was artist-director for the 
 drawings in accurate style, and several* of the entire 
 number of the fresh-water fishes in our lakes and rivers 
 were got ready. But Vhomme propose. Alas ! the plan 
 
 * There were altogether twenty-five — viz., pike, perch, carp, 
 tench, roach, dace, trout, grayling, gwynnard (in Balapool), barbel, 
 chubb, bream, pope, bleak, gudgeon, char (in Windermere), loach, 
 minnow, miller's thumb, stickleback, eel ; and river salmon, smelt, 
 flounder, and lamprey, in the Severn. Grilse, gillaroo, whiting, 
 whitebait, &c, were considered to be only the fry or varieties of 
 other species. 
 
LORD DE TABLET. 159 
 
 was never carried out, and, indeed, it required more time 
 than could be afforded for its satisfactory development. 
 Many journeys were necessary for procuring correct por- 
 traits of the various subjects as they were taken from their 
 native element. One, the gizzard trout, was said to require 
 an excursion to Ireland. But these halcyon fishing days, 
 with all the enjoyments of country they afforded, and all 
 the love of natural beauty that inspired them, were about 
 to vanish like a dream of the morning. A mortal malady 
 seized the originator of the promise-giving design ; and one 
 of the most accomplished men of the time, and a true bene- 
 factor of British Art, was gathered to the tomb. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 It is on looking back at the correspondence in distant 
 years, that the lineaments of departed friends are brought 
 most vividly to perception. Memory keeps the outline and 
 prominent features, but the finer traces have partially 
 escaped, and it requires the touch of the pen to restore them 
 in all their original freshness and impression. I find this 
 very forcibly when I glance over letters from Sir John 
 Leicester, dated thirty or forty years ago. In what I have 
 previously written, I have described him as a liberal patron 
 of our native School of Arts ; but when I read these, I 
 more clearly remember that the desire in him amounted to 
 a passion. He loved the Arts, and was the warmest of 
 friends to those who practised them. In one note he dotes 
 upon his success in getting Collins's beautiful "Sunrise" into 
 his gallery, and placing Gainsborough's " Cottage Door " 
 near it in a better light. In another there is a cluster all 
 at once in progress — the King, by Lawrence ; fancy subject 
 of a beautiful female, by Thomson, in his happiest style; 
 
160 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the Cheshire Yeomanry with their Colonel (Sir John) at 
 their head, by Jones ; an historical composition, by Hofland ; 
 " Slender and Anne Page," on an enlarged scale, by Leslie ; 
 and that I should go and look at a picture by Pickersgill 
 (of which he had read), and advise if I thought it would 
 assimilate with the rest in the gallery, in which case the 
 price was to be no object. A third gives thanks for pointing 
 out a painting I had seen on the easel of high 2">roniise, and 
 an earnest request that I would keep a good look out, and 
 wherever I discovered "any production of modern art of a 
 class to hang with the rest of the specimens he had been for- 
 tunate enough to bring together," to lose no time in putting 
 him in the way to secure it. The spirit of discriminating 
 and generous devotion to the interests of our arts and artists 
 could hardly exceed this. But sometimes there were bits of 
 amusement interspersed. It once occurred that there was 
 an imbroglio into which there was a risk of our being drawn, 
 and I had expressed my determination to have nothing to 
 do with it ; on which Sir John wrote : — " I highly ajjprove 
 of your steering clear of all the artists' broils ; to please, 
 or even satisfy them, would indeed be a Herculean task ; " 
 and without disparaging the profession, I am afraid that 
 this opinion continues to be too just. 
 
 Another incident was more entertaining. A letter 
 arrived at Tabley House, offering its master a noble oppor- 
 tunity to patronize a new school of Art, to commence which 
 the writer proposed to come from Manchester with a price- 
 less Parmegiano, and submit the picture to view, not doubt- 
 ing that he should never have to take it away again. A 
 Parmegiano was not quite in Sir John's way, but his 
 curiosity was piqued by the grandiloquent description and 
 confident assurance of marvellous beauties ; and he had 
 almost assented to the visit, paying the expense of the 
 transit of so invaluable a masterpiece. I happened, how- 
 ever, to be on the eve of returning to town, and it was 
 agreed that I should take Manchester on my way, see the 
 
LORD DE TABLEY. 161 
 
 mighty Italian, and report thereon. I did, and it has not 
 entered into the mind of man to conceive my astonishment. 
 I was shown into a dirty back room in a mean house, where 
 the treasure hung ; a copious green-silk curtain was drawn, 
 and I beheld a daub, literally so very bad that it would 
 have disgraced a sign-post. I do not exaggerate ; I have 
 seen hundreds of public-house signs infinitely superior as 
 works of art. "Whether the poor fellow who owned it was 
 a fanatic, or had been what is called hoaxed, I cannot tell ; 
 all that I know further is, that this Parmegiano did not 
 appear upon the walls at the late great Manchester Exhi- 
 bition ! 
 
 With regard to the projected work on British Ichthy- 
 ology, I am inclined to think it still a desideratum, and a 
 design likely to be highly prized, if executed in the accurate 
 and superb style contemplated by Lord de Tabley. 
 
 I have only to add that his lordship took no busy share 
 in politics. His attachment to the Prince Regent was not 
 of a political nature ; it far more resembled a strong private 
 friendship ; and as I may speak of him as the friend of a 
 king, so may I represent him as a peer or a gentleman, 
 showing himself to be princely in every action of his life. 
 He was created a peer ; but all before that he did every- 
 thing in such a manner that you could never conceive him 
 less. 
 
 
 j£ e/S^d 
 
( 162 ) 
 
 CHARLES DIBDIN. 
 
 IT is not too much to say, that in any record of the most 
 glorious triumphs of the British navy, an honourable 
 tribute is due to the memory of Charles Dibdin. He was 
 the Tyrtseus of his age. His stirring poetry helped in no 
 small degree to form the character of our brave naval 
 defenders. There was not a galley in the fleet in which his 
 songs were not continually sung. They nearly superseded 
 the sailor's ' ' yarns " of never-failing popularity, and were 
 superior in influence ; for yarns have no choruses, and are, 
 indeed, wonderfully monotonous when compared with these 
 inspiriting lyrics. Jack never had enough of them ; never 
 cried " Avast heaving ! " but turned in and out, as the 
 case might be, humming " Peaceful slumbering on the 
 ocean," or " A sailor's life give me, sir, yo, heave yo ! " 
 Pitt himself publicly acknowledged the patriotic influence 
 of Charles Dibdin. 
 
 Strange to tell, Dibdin was never at sea in his life, and 
 it is wonderful how he mastered so much of the technical 
 phraseology, and used it with so few nautical mistakes. 
 His sailor was no ideal personage, nor were the qualities 
 with which he clothed him imaginary. In those days Jack 
 had more coarseness and recklessness than he has now ; but 
 to Dibdin's honour be it recorded, that he took the rough 
 material, and by his gift of song did much to turn mere 
 brute force and animal pluck into dauntless daring, and the 
 exercise of humanities always elevating, and sometimes 
 
CHARLES DIBDIN. 163 
 
 almost sublime. From amid the horrors and crimes of 
 war he evoked many examples of heroism and patriotism, 
 pity and pathos, patient endurance and devotedness to duty, 
 with other noble virtues. Thus it was that the general 
 tenor of his compositions was in a right direction, and tended 
 to beneficial results. Extravagance and indiscretion were 
 rebuked ; crazy follies were ridiculed ; the love of truth 
 was inculcated ; lion-like intrepidity was not more praised 
 than lamb-like gentleness to the helpless or the vanquished. 
 Every true sailor's heart responded to these sentiments, and 
 the character of the navy was improved, so far as such 
 compositions can be expected to influence character. 
 
 As the phrase is in more serious matters, Dibdin was 
 earnest in " improving the occasion," to make his lessons 
 tell more effectually. Any grievous disaster brought forth 
 his lament and consolation, any splendid achievement his 
 lo pcean and triumphant cheer. Many strange incidents, 
 many bold adventures, many worthy deeds did he embalm 
 in verse ; his series is a history of the most momentous era 
 that ever the British Empire passed through, and his own 
 peculiar portion of it is, to say the least, the most interest- 
 ing of the universal chronicle. But any event, even of a 
 personal kind, was sufficient to call forth his prolific talent, 
 which produced, besides the songs, above seventy musical 
 pieces. 
 
 The death of his brother, who was a sailor, and helped 
 him with some of his imagery, induced the pathetic epitaph 
 on " Poor Tom Bowling, the darling of our crew : " — 
 
 " His form was of the manliest beauty, 
 His heart was kind and soft ; 
 Faithful below he did his duty ; 
 And now he's gone aloft." 
 
 However much we may regret the absence of that deeper 
 religious feeling, which, engrafted on noble natural character, 
 produces the highest type of hero or patriot, no ©ne can but 
 M 2 
 
164 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 admire the manliness, the courage, the humanity, lauded in 
 Dibdin's songs. Nor is there ever a forgetfulness of the 
 the overruling care and protection of Providence, a reliance 
 on which is essential to the upholding and comfort of those 
 who are exposed to risk and danger. It is not in a spirit 
 of reckless fatalism, but of manly dependence, that he 
 writes of " The true English sailor : " — 
 
 " In a fostering Power while Jack puts his trust, 
 If Fortune conies, smiling he'll hail her ; 
 Kesign'd still, and manly, since what must be must, 
 And this is the mind of a sailor." 
 
 And here is the concluding stanza : — 
 
 " To rancour unknown, to no passion a slave, 
 
 Nor unmanly, nor mean, nor a railer ; 
 
 He's gentle as Mercy, as Fortitude brave, 
 
 And this is the true English sailor." 
 
 To the measure of such stanzas, and the example of noble 
 leaders, was the character of the naval service formed. 
 Loyal and patriotic, daring and compassionate, the true 
 British sailor formed an extraordinary being, such as the 
 world ne'er saw elsewhere, or in any other age — a being 
 whom no enterprise, however desperate, could appal ; who 
 literally courted danger, and considered the most adven- 
 turous expedition " a piece of fun," and consequently a 
 welcome relaxation from the toils and hardships of routine 
 duty. These were the gallant men who manned our navy 
 in the great war, and who bore the " meteor flag of England" 
 triumphant on every sea. And they have not degenerated 
 in our day. Brave and daring, devoted and loyal as ever, 
 there is an improvement now in the intelligence and moral 
 character of English sailors, which makes the service more 
 worthily popular, than even in the days of the Nile and 
 Trafalgar. 
 
 Be it observed also, that with all his rapidity, even the 
 
CHARLES DIBDIN. 165 
 
 poorest of Dibdin's lyrical effusions are admirably framed 
 for popularity, by the ease and unaffectedness of their style. 
 More polished or grandiloquent, they could never have made 
 the way they did into the untrained minds of the gallant 
 crew to whom they were addressed, and stirred up their 
 courage to the needful pitch ; nor would they have wrought 
 so powerfully on the national breast as to have made, and to 
 make, nine-tenths of the boys born in England prone to 
 seek the sea service, and hardly to be restrained from running 
 off to become sailors ! 
 
 For more than forty eventful years Dibdin nourished his 
 miscellaneous and fertile pen. He did not enrich himself : 
 for literafrire was not so much nor so directly a profession 
 in those days as it is now; but he managed to " carry on 
 the war " in a respectable style, and was a pleasant jjerson 
 to meet in society. Good-lookiug, well-mannered, full of 
 anecdote, entertaining, and unassuming — where he was, 
 music and song played holiday, and few guests parted from 
 his company without a desire to meet him again. To me it 
 was always agreeable and instructive. During the last 
 twenty years of the last century, he had amused the public 
 with "The Shepherdess of the Alps," "The Deserter," 
 "The Waterman," "The Chelsea Pensioner," "The 
 Gipsies," and I know not how many more musical enter- 
 tainments, generally of simple construction, but effective for 
 the purpose for which they were intended. He had also 
 crowned his name by the publication of a well-chosen selec- 
 tion of his lyrical compositions. As the mighty struggle of 
 war continued to occupy every mind and elicit from him 
 yet higher strains, it was somewhat early in the present 
 century that the volume entitled " Songs, Naval and 
 National " appeared, with a memoir of his life prefixed, and 
 containing six hundred of his most successful productions. 
 This raised him to the height of popularity. Of his other 
 literary labours this is not the place to speak ; but I cannot 
 avoid mentioning the " High-mettled Racer " as an early 
 
166 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 instalment for the benefit of that humane society which, to 
 an extent more limited than may be wished, directs its 
 efforts to the prevention and punishment of cruelty to 
 animals. The high-mettled racer, worn out and dying a 
 "hack on the road," might well serve as a symbol to head 
 the accounts of their meritorious exertions and their appeals 
 for public support. 
 
 But time will on, with racers and cart-horses, with men 
 of genius and boors, with admirals and common sailors 
 alike. All who listened to Dibdin's early songs, and Dibdin, 
 who poured them out on the turbulent waters, are gone. 
 The fabled merman who chanted in magic lays, and the 
 fabled mariners who heard him, are now as real to our sight 
 as he and his sailor audiences. We can only, as Cowper 
 sings, try for a few brief moments to 
 
 " Weigh the vessel up, 
 
 Once dreaded by our foes ; 
 And mingle with the cup, 
 
 The tear that England owes " 
 
 to his memory. He died in 1822, and was buried in St. 
 Martin's Churchyard, Camden Town, and his tombstone is 
 inscribed with the four lines quoted above — " His form was 
 of the manliest beauty," etc. At the period, an attempt to 
 raise a subscription for a monument to him was announced, 
 but, I believe, never carried farther. Many less deserving 
 individuals have since, and especially of late years, had 
 greater honours bestowed by partial posterity upon their 
 memories ; the greatest naval lyrist of Great Britain sleeps 
 with the humble, unnoticed, in a low suburban grave. It 
 ought not to be so. His sons Charles and Thomas were 
 men of popular note and very considerable talent ; but 
 having only inherited literary tastes and habits, they never 
 had the means to build mausolea, or erect "storied urn 
 or animated bust. " I assisted in procuring a small Govern- 
 ment pension for his widow, and that is all that the match- 
 
CHARLES DIBDIN. 167 
 
 less inspirer of England's victorious navy ever got from his 
 grateful country 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 I have nothing to add to this very brief sketch, but 
 would fain enforce, at the risk of repetition, that as there 
 is no human good without some taint of evil, so is there 
 no human evil out of which some redeeming quality 
 may not be extracted. Of the power of such extraction 
 Charles Dibdin afforded a memorable instance. Out of war, 
 with all its bloodshed and horrors, and out of the seafaring 
 mariners of England, with all their coarseness and reckless- 
 ness, who carried it on, he evoked examples not only of 
 patriotism and heroism, but of pathos, generosity, pity, self- 
 sacrifice, devotedness to duty, and other noble virtues. 
 He performed a great and important office in his time. 
 
 It is not too much to say that the most glorious triumphs 
 of the British Navy owe a deep debt of remembrance to 
 Charles Dibdin ; but it is still more obvious and certain that 
 his stirring compositions aroused that effect upon every rank 
 of our brave defenders, which produced the extraordinary 
 character for ever renowned as the jolly tar, who enjoyed 
 every frolic, despised every danger, joked with imminent 
 fate, and laughed at Death to his very face. 
 
 And now, how strange it is to glance at the change that 
 has taken place, and ask how many of the most exciting 
 lyrics of our poet would fail in effect, how inapplicable 
 many of his comparisons have become, how imperfect his 
 imagery, how unreal his descriptions, and even his language 
 how obsolete ! Our sailors no longer assimilate with hearts 
 of oak; the wooden walls of old England have departed 
 into ironsides ; sails are not hoisted, because steam is got up 
 instead; when the fight is begun, each is no more seen 
 
168 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 standing to his gun, but they are all about their gun, in- 
 visible in the cupola ; a broadside is an unintelligible phrase 
 by an Armstrong or Whitworth 300-pounder ; windward 
 and leeward are nowhere in the nautical vocabulary ; fire- 
 ships are of no avail for burning iron-clads, and are super- 
 seded by torpedoes for blowing them out of the water ; 
 reefing, and furling, and manoeuvring, and every act of 
 seamanship are intensified in one word of three letters, 
 the Ram ! 
 
 I know not what the result in navigation or in war may 
 be, but assuredly we shall not, under our new circumstances, 
 see another Dibdin, to sing the picturesque glories of the 
 British Navy again. The song of the big cannon, the im- 
 penetrable iron, the whirligig cupola, or the brutal ram, 
 would require the inspiration of a genius I can never hope 
 to witness arise from the vasty deep. 
 
 So I bid farewell even to much of the memory of nobly 
 patriotic poetry. 
 
 fcz*^ 
 
 c^c^i- /yus&u 
 
( 169 ) 
 
 THE EEV. T. FKOGNALL DIBDIN, D.D. 
 
 JOHN KEK, Duke of Eoxburghe, " the Book Duke," as 
 he was called, was a very noble personage. He com- 
 bined dignity and ease of manner in a degree more fre- 
 quently talked of than witnessed, and was at once the man 
 of high rank and the familiar companion. Well, if he 
 could not learn this from books, perhaps he might get some 
 of it from his pursuit of books, for such was his favourite 
 hobby. He was among the earliest of those who sought 
 to enrich their libraries by the personal exploration of old 
 book-shops and stalls ; and his success was commensurate 
 with his diligence : he formed a library of great extent and 
 curiosity. Other noblemen and gentlemen followed in his 
 train, and the quest for scarce publications became a 
 fashion. 
 
 It was into this arena that Dr. Dibdin threw himself 
 in the hey-day prime of life. Intended for the bar, his 
 addiction to literature weaned him from the strife of the 
 forum, and he had wandered into the Church, possibly with 
 no higher motive than the hope of there finding quiet lei- 
 sure for his favourite pursuits. The " bibliomania," or rage 
 for book-collecting, may be said to have become more 
 openly manifested early in the present century, when 
 Dibdin was fresh from college, and twenty-five years of age ; 
 and he soon displayed his zeal in the movement as an ardent 
 partisan, if I might not truly describe him during the 
 ensuing forty years as a very Master of the Ceremonies. In 
 
170 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the foundation of the Roxburghe Club, 1812, he was the 
 most active and conspicuous leader, and he had clearly 
 shown his title to the place by the publication of his 
 " Bibliomania " three years before. 
 
 The novelty of the matter created what we are now 
 pleased to call a sensation ; and the self-application of the 
 term mania pretty accurately described the symptoms of 
 the case and the influence of its contagion. Many people 
 cannot resist anything new, especially if propagated by 
 means of a strange and unaccustomed jargon. Instead of 
 valuing books for the intelligence their authors had com- 
 mitted to them, book-collectors were taught that the sense 
 they contained had nothing at all to do with their market 
 cost, but that, to be uncut, and consequently unread ; to be 
 an " editio princeps," and therefore without later corrections 
 or improvements ; to be " ymprynted " by William Caxton 
 or Wynkyn de Worde ; to be rare, and, in addition to their 
 rarity, to be remai'kable for some notable mistake or error ; 
 or, above all, to be unique, were the grand recommenda- 
 tions. Old volumes were valued at prices so enormous, 
 that an odd tattered copy of a publication not originally 
 worth sixpence, woiild bring a sum of money sufficient for 
 the purchase of a good library. 
 
 I do not mean to say that this mania has not led the way 
 to several beneficial results. Out of evil good is frequently 
 evolved, and so out of even extreme folly lessons of wisdom 
 may be elicited. Much valuable literary research sprang 
 out of the retrospective rage, and the establishment of the 
 Roxburghe Club formed a precedent for others, which have 
 skilfully and laboriously brought to light many treasures of 
 ancient literature and art that might, probably, never have 
 been revived but for their pains-taking and exertions. Thus 
 the country enjoys, and at moderate rates, the issues of the 
 Hackluyt, Surtees, Camden, Shakespeare, Percy, Bannatyne, 
 Maitland, and other similar associations, from all of which 
 very interesting works have proceeded. Something also 
 
THE REV. T. FROGNALL DIBDIN, D.D. 171 
 
 has arisen from this division of labour, not only as regards 
 the separate classes of knowledge to which each of these 
 devotes its attention, hut in exciting a similar spirit in indi- 
 viduals who have (though joining in the whole design) 
 taken up some favourite branch, as it were, for home cul- 
 ture. One has historical doubts to interpret, another cos- 
 tume and manners, a third legendary lore, a fourth ballad 
 illustration of certain historical epochs, a fifth witchcraft, a 
 sixth the sciences, a seventh divinity, and so on throughout 
 the entire range, greatly to the recreation and edification of 
 mankind ; and we may candidly trace much of this impulse 
 towards learned research to a fierce struggle between two 
 noblemen in an auction mart, for Boccaccio's " Decameron," 
 and the prize being carried off in exchange for a loose hun- 
 dred or two over two thousand pounds sterling money ! 
 
 In this element the Rev. Frognall Dibchn revelled. Earl 
 Spencer, who was nulli secundus in the book-hunting race, 
 became his warm patron and friend ; aud he devoted him- 
 self enthusiastically to extend and elucidate the new move- 
 ment in the peaceful realm of literature. His " Bibliotheca 
 Spenceriana," in four volumes, was a well-rewarded work, 
 and the " .^Edes Althorpeana," in two bulky quartos, no 
 less remunerative. But by this time (1822) he had acquired 
 a good many years of experience in the leadership of the 
 dilettanti book-seeking circle, for it was eleven years since 
 he had proclaimed his bibliomaniac office in the volume in 
 which he exhibited Heber,* Boswell, Kemble, Freeling, 
 Southey, Douce, Scott, and many more, under fantastic 
 names, as infected with the virus, in a rhodomontade style, 
 which, however, took vastly, and reached a new edition, 
 with a key, thirty years afterwards. 
 
 * His discovery of Heber's will, supposed lost or destroyed, was a 
 singular accident. It fell out, preceded by a golden sovereign, from 
 a shelf of duodecimos, in the library at Pimlico, every imaginable 
 place at home and abroad having been previously ransacked in vain. 
 
172 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 In short, the book-madness, like fashions in dress, was 
 carried beyond the verge of the ridiculous, and in it Dibdin 
 was the Beau Brummell of the folly. Yet, as I have 
 already remarked, as out of evil there sometimes comes good, 
 so out of foolery there sometimes comes wisdom. Old and 
 valuable authors, long neglected or forgotten, were resusci- 
 tated in the search for curiosities, and though the wild pas- 
 sion for the odd, the dilapidated, the rare, and the unique, 
 was carried to great excess, we must allow that a consider- 
 able revival of sterling literature was among the incidental 
 results of an inundation of zeal, which has not yet wholly 
 subsided, if we may judge by the extraordinary prices still 
 given for imperfect volumes and torn bits of scraps and 
 leaves, at every sale of libraries or collections brought to the 
 hammer of the auctioneer. 
 
 To desire something which nobody else has, seems to be 
 one of the unphilosophical freaks of human nature. It may 
 be of inherent or of no worth. It may be a flower or a 
 butterfly, a jewel or a coin, or a book or a signature, of 
 which none but itself can be its parallel ; and who so proud 
 and boastful as the wonderful possessor of this absolute 
 wonder 1 I knew a man who concentrated all the admira- 
 tion the world permitted to converge into his focus, by 
 exhibiting a common goose-pen which tradition affirmed to 
 have been used by Miss Milton in writing " Paradise Lost " 
 to her blind father's dictation. 
 
 In Dibdin's writings and conversation there was a sub- 
 stratum of knowledge and sound sense, but often annoyingly 
 bespattered with a novel sort of slang which vexed the dull 
 ear and perplexed the understanding. One wanted a dic- 
 tionary, or rather, a bibliographical vocabulary or grammar, 
 to run along with the rectos, colophons, " saucy margins," 
 "tall folios," "toolings" (alias, binding work), "the uncut 
 or almost uncut," the " creamy papyrus," and much more 
 similar phraseology ; the great aggravation of which was, 
 that it was poured out in perfect rhapsodies, as if the maniac 
 
THE REV. T. FROGNALI; DIBDIN, D.D. 173 
 
 were in a state of ecstacy ; and this, too, on perhaps a per- 
 fect copy of a book not worth twopence for its contents, or 
 an old clasp, or an insignificant misprint, or some odd-look- 
 ing ornaments, or some quaint fashion in the boards. The 
 hyperbole was hardly outrageous enough to be offensive, 
 but it was also too absurd to excite laughter. A French 
 critic, in noticing one of the Doctor's luxurious and costly 
 publications, and having heard all his learned disquisitions 
 on its mere exterior, observed that the " Tour " would have 
 been a capital volume if there had been no letterpress. But 
 enough of these general remarks on the " bibliomania " of 
 an earlier period of this century, which will form a curious 
 chapter among the Curiosities of Literature. I would not 
 have dwelt on the subject, but that Dr. Dibdin long out- 
 lived the prevalence of the symptoms of the insane riot, to 
 become one of the most rational and pleasant of social 
 companions. 
 
 By some of his brethren of " the republic of letters," 
 Dibdin was charged with tuft-hunting. He adhered the 
 closer to his noble and wealthy friends, nor had he any 
 ground to feel sore at the imputation. He was literary 
 from his cradle, and literature has as high a title as nobility 
 — a higher rank and station than sordid riches. The dis- 
 criminating peer courts the scholar and well-informed 
 gentleman, and the latter need not servilely show more 
 deference to him than is due to his station and character ; 
 it is an honourable specialty, and well does the familiar 
 contract become both sides, without the sacrifice of in- 
 fraction of dignity in the one, or of self-respect in the other ! 
 
 Though books were not so very cheap in those days as 
 they are now, yet the Doctor was also virulently assailed on 
 account of his ten or twenty guinea volumes. He was 
 accused of being an adept in book-making ; of trading in 
 bibliography ; of traffi eking with his costly baubles on the 
 Continent for rare and valuable tomes in foreign lands (to a 
 knowledge of which he published a very instructive intro- 
 
174 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 duction) ; and, in short, of making a fortune by biblio- 
 maniac quackery. That fortune he never made. He 
 declared that his object was chiefly fame, and was, in truth, 
 such an enthusiast that I, for one, reposed full faith in the 
 assertion. His life was far too bustling and too giddy to 
 leave leisure for money-getting schemes, had he been a 
 plotter ; but no one ever whispered that Dr. Dibdin was 
 dishonest enough to enter upon such practices. He was 
 quite aware of the haste and inaccuracy which marked the 
 most of his works — as the " Tours," the " Decameron ; " but, 
 like Dr. Syntax in search of the picturesque, considered the 
 antiquarian and learned blots to be mere specks on the 
 surface of the immense stock of information which he laid 
 before the public. And in this belief he was perfectly 
 justified. A thorough digest of his works would be a 
 treasure in our more flimsy period ; and as for the errata, 
 they hardly detract from the real importance of his labours. 
 In 1836, his "Reminiscences of a Literary Life" cata- 
 logued a vast amount and variety of research and applica- 
 tion, however extravagant in its style. On "Ames's 
 Antiquities " — in satire, even on the aspirants for book- 
 wisdom— in local history, Cheltenham, for example — in 
 journeys abroad and at home — in library explorations, 
 selections, arrangements, and catalogues — in guides for the 
 young and less educated to similar pursuits — in poems and 
 in sermons, he had spent his busy, busy time for more than 
 thirty years ; and he continued busy for eight years more, 
 as the production of lai'ge works, but diminishing in popu- 
 larity, rather grievously demonstrated. His "Northern 
 Tour," in 1838, had but moderate encouragement; and I 
 remember, five years later, his bitter complaint of " the 
 trade," so considerably benefited, as he alleged, by his pre- 
 ceding publications, refusing " to subscribe for a single 
 copy." I fancy that fifty copies subscribed for sufficed to 
 clear the expenses ; but, as I have stated, Dr. Dibdin did 
 not enrich himself by his literary speculations. 
 
THE REV. T. FROGNALL DIBDIN, D.D. 175 
 
 On the death of Mr. Heber he took a prominent part in 
 the description and disposal of his extraordinary library, 
 with which I may say the extreme manifestations of the 
 bibliomania were extinguished ; though it appears to have 
 somewhat revived with the increase of wealth among certain 
 classes at the present day. True, there is no such enthusiast 
 now as was the rector of St. Mary's, Bryanstone Square ; 
 but where the test of rarity supplies the criterion of dis- 
 crimination, the market for these, as for all other 
 luxuries, genuine or artificial, will be amply supported by 
 the affluent, who are continually " rising in the world," and 
 adding millionaire fortunes of merchant and manufacturer 
 to the elder stock of lords and squires. It were well if the 
 same spirit were extended to the encouragement of solid 
 and worthy literature, as of what is " fast " and light. 
 
 But to conclude my sketch of Dr. Frognall Dibdin ; let 
 me bestow a touch upon the individual, apart from the 
 mania which he led and the companionship he affected — 
 many of his nearest associates being among the best men of 
 their day. His good temper defied malice to ruffle it. He 
 was charitable towards all mankind. His manners were 
 pleasant and gentlemanlike. His conversation was agree- 
 able ; his fund of anecdote inexhaustible. Of his character 
 as a clergyman it is out of my province to speak ; yet it 
 is impossible to believe that the inordinate pursuit of the 
 objects to which he devoted his life could be compatible 
 with a faithful attention to the sacred duties of the ministry. 
 At length the seething brain forgot its functions. A long 
 paralysis prefaced his death, at the age of seventy-two. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 A small touch near the peroration of my preceding 
 essay, though perfectly in unison with the spirit in which 
 
176 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the journal where it appeared is so ably and consistently 
 conducted, I cannot precisely claim as my own, although 
 willingly permitted dictum ; for however just the observa- 
 tion may be, I must have considered myself as one rashly 
 overstepping his proper secular function to offer any oj)inion 
 on a serious religious question. I could have no right or 
 title to say, what it is the especial province of this excellent 
 publication to inculcate upon the popular mind whenever 
 the interests of morality, or of a yet higher sphere, call for the 
 expression of its temperate and consistent opinion. But 
 clerical duties were not for me authoritatively to pronounce 
 upon. Dr. Dibdin was, as far as I saw, a favourite in the 
 pulpit, and much liked as a preacher. How much his literary 
 pursuits interfered with his more sacred obligations, I do not 
 know ; but I know that at the end of his course the former 
 had been found a broken reed ; for, as I have already 
 intimated, his decline was marked with failure, and (1843) 
 he wrote to me of " the effort of a veteran philologist to 
 earn an honest mouthful of bread. 'Twill be my last appear- 
 ance as an author, and my recent misfortunes have taught 
 me the value of an honest patronage. Extremum hunc — 
 mild concede laborem." At this time he was complaining 
 bitterly of "the trade," and of publishers who refused to 
 subscribe for a single copy of his work. Four years after 
 this date he died. In his more prosperous days, when feted by 
 the great and the idol of the " bookish " worshippers, he 
 was averse to acknowledge the other popular Dibdins as his 
 relations — even our greatest naval lyrist was too low in the 
 social scale to be acknowledged by the courted companion 
 of the wealthiest and highest ranks, and Earls and Dukes. 
 
 And this incidental catchword brings me to my con- 
 clusion, while it suggests an anecdote of the Duke mentioned 
 above, and whom I might have ranged among my characters, 
 had I been honoured with his better acquaintance. His 
 residence in St. James's Square is now the Wyndham club- 
 house, and there I saw him several times, as a youngster, 
 
REV. T. FROGNALL DIBDIN, D.D. 177 
 
 from near his magnificent ducal seat, the Floors, on the 
 Tweed, whom he condescended to notice. His grand 
 position at Court, Groom of the Stole to King George the 
 Third, was all I could wonder about, for few or none were 
 aware of his common drudgery, while wandering from 
 bookstall to bookstall, throughout the wide metropolis, he 
 gratified his curious taste and picked up those literary 
 treasures, the dispersion of which caused a revolution in the 
 learned world, and has led to results of vast importance in 
 the preservation and cultivation of letters. In none of his 
 predatory expeditions, however, among the obscure alleys 
 of London, in search of strange books, did his Grace ever 
 receive such a fright as he once did in his own sacred 
 plantations. Walking here on a beautiful Sunday forenoon, 
 he was roughly encountered by a wild, uncouth-looking 
 being, who instantly addressed him with a menacing look 
 and gesture, " Ye scoonrel, what are ye 1 Are ye breaking 
 the Sabbath 1 Gang to the kirk, ye scoonrel — dinna ye 
 hear the bells ringing 1" The Duke contrived to soothe his 
 innocuous though ferocious interrogator, and made a hasty 
 escape. He soon learnt that the transgressor was a poor 
 simple idiot belonging to the neighbouring town of Kelso, 
 and named Willy Hawick, and, by this token, the original 
 from whom Scott drew his daft Davy and pregnant story of 
 the bubbly jocks. 
 
( 178 ) 
 
 THE ELDEB D'ISRAELI. 
 
 MY acquaintance with the elder D'Israeli (or, as now 
 written, Disraeli) was rather literary than social ; and 
 therefore, any recollections I may offer respecting him, must 
 be more limited than in instances where I enjoyed greater 
 intimacy and opportunities for being impressed by character. 
 But after all, what is the most elaborate biography as a sure 
 foundation for sound judgment 1 It is but an approximation, 
 with an admixture of guess-work at the best. Of almost 
 every man it may be said, that the interior is never seen — 
 is imperfectly known even to himself. The secret springs 
 and motives are impenetrable ; and yet the belief in the 
 truth and circumstantiality of Biography is accepted as a 
 matter of course. Non scire fas est omnia ; and indeed, 
 instead of not knowing all, we can discover but very little 
 of the real life and character of most men. "What little I 
 knew of Mr. D'Israeli has left the following impression. 
 
 If ever the epithet " amiable " could be strictly applied to 
 the masculine sex, I think it might have been allowed to 
 Mr. D'Israeli. There was not only a pleasing gentleness 
 about him, gracing all he said or did, but a placid equanimity, 
 which, it seemed, nothing could disturb. At Enfield, now 
 so loudly famed for the production of rifles to destroy man- 
 kind, he was born and sent forth on his peaceful mission to 
 enlighten them. 
 
 All his voluminous works, spread so extensively over the 
 face of the earth, have tended largely to disseminate right 
 
THE ELDER D'iSRAELI. 179 
 
 feelings — the love of truth, benevolence towards our fellow 
 creatures, sympathy for the oppressed and unfortunate, 
 justice and charity to all. In speech as in writing, hi con- 
 versation as in more formal statements, the pale face of the 
 speaker, slightly tinged from his Hebrew and Venetian 
 extraction, and the dark, mild, very prominent but expres- 
 sive eye, imparted a degree of persuasiveness to his opinions 
 which I have seldom seen equalled in the outward aids to 
 conversation. 
 
 His tastes were refined. Not only did the amenities of 
 society and literature seem to be parts of his nature, bat the 
 Arts, in all their branches, laid their treasures before a 
 studious and cultivated mind, when they were submitted to 
 his examination. Of them he was an excellent judge and 
 accomplished critic. The circle among whom I chiefly met 
 him consisted of the ISTares, Douce, and other Men I have 
 Known, some of whose characteristic traits I have through 
 the medium of " The Leisure Hour" endeavoured to 
 trace. 
 
 D'Israeli knew nothing of the " Calamities of Authors," 
 except in recording them, and, happily for those who enjoyed 
 the gratification of his company, was a very graceful illus- 
 tration of the " Literary Character," and abounding in 
 " Curiosities of Literature," so as to render his contributions 
 to the social talk at once truly interesting and instructive. 
 It might be that his tone was pitched in accord with the less 
 demonstrative sphere to which I have alluded ; but in more 
 convivial parties he was ready to enter jocundly into the 
 spirit of the scene. At such entertainments as genial authors 
 marked with a white stone, under the hospitable roof of John 
 Murray, tlieir renowned publisher, he could shine with no 
 eclipsed lustre, always in appropriate keeping, listened to 
 with attention and heard with satisfaction. Dare I venture 
 to allude to one festive occasion, where book-collectors held 
 a symposium, and he, the most temperate of the set ; where 
 Kemble, Maurice, Parsons, <fec, toasted Guttemberg and 
 n 2 
 
180 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Faust, Caxton and Wynkyn de Worde out of Shakespeare's 
 mulberry-tree bowl. It was a merry bit of social literary 
 life, consistent with the common usages of the period, but 
 far removed from the excesses which too frequently disfigured 
 them. 
 
 In his " Life and Reign of Charles the First," and indeed 
 in all his historical lucubrations, the same natural tempera- 
 ment and kindly disposition appear. He pitied the unfortu- 
 nate. He lacked the gall of political partisanship. He had 
 nothing of that sternness which seems necessary for those 
 who stand forward, according to their views, for rigid justice, 
 without the abatement of a penalty or pain, wjthout the 
 allowance of a palliation for evil counsellors and the frailties 
 of humanity. This was the key to his personal life, which 
 caused bitn to be loved and esteemed — to his literary life, 
 replete with those sentiments which make the whole world 
 akin. I have marvelled — when I have seen his son, one of 
 the most extraordinary personages of the age, lacerating his 
 political adversaries with many bitter stripes, and provoking 
 to anger even the imperturbable Peel — whence he could have 
 inherited his rage for political strife, and his genius for 
 personal debate. From the turmoil of the House of Com- 
 mons, Isaac DTsraeli would have fled as from a pestilence, 
 and sought refuge among his much-loved books. And sure 
 was the solace to be found there ; but — ah ! there is a but 
 in all earthly enjoyments — but at last this happiness was 
 denied him ; he could not have seen me, and I saw him no 
 more. When I heard of the blindness which afflicted him 
 for several years before his death (if that could be called an 
 affliction which I have been assured he bore with the calmest 
 resignation), I was affected to an extent I could hardly 
 explain to myself. Let those who have dwelt among books 
 imagine what it is at one fell swoop to lose so many true 
 friends. Mr. Benjamin DTsraeli has written a memoir of 
 his father, and it is gratifying to learn that this heavy 
 privation was lightened by every domestic consolation which 
 
THE ELDER D'lSRAELI. 181 
 
 the attachment and veneration of a loving family could 
 supply to the patient suiferer. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Though not in the Commons, Mr. D'Israeli, the elder, 
 was quite able to hit tolerably hard with the pen. Even 
 the placid Bowles spoke resentfully of his review of his 
 poetry in the Quarterly. And he had a sharp dispute with 
 Lord Nugent about the desecration of the grave of Hampden, 
 and the history given. His principal historical researches, 
 as was to be expected from the period they embraced, were 
 strenuously questioned and commented upon by writers on 
 the Cronrwellian side, but he met the assault with apparent 
 complacency, and went on with his labours in the genuine 
 spirit of a devoted cavalier. To inquire into the precise 
 truth of such an era is puzzling. When the violent passions 
 of a civil war rage throughout a people, it is not likely that 
 either party (even if they tried) could do justice to the other. 
 And as political principles, fought and bled for at the time 
 of " the Great Rebellion or the Commonwealth," are still 
 extant and in strong living force, it is only natural to 
 expect contradiction and controversy whenever any jDartisan 
 ventures to launch his opinions upon the still unquiet 
 sea. 
 
 Well, as I have hinted, Mr. D'Israeli could attack as well 
 as defend. With all his suavity he could be fierce enough. 
 I have not seen his life nor the edition of his voluminous 
 works, by his greater son ; but if the " illustrator illustrated'' 
 is compared in the number, it will show, as far as the 
 writer's power went, that to provoke his hostility was to 
 risk the experiencing of one of the calamities of authorship. 
 Mr. Bolton Corney, fortified by the dictum of Dr. Crombie, 
 
182 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 vehemently proclaimed the conceit, arrogance, unfounded 
 assumption of originality, want of veracity, and I cannot 
 tell how many literary offences, against the reputation of the 
 author; and was answered as bitterly as the battles were 
 fought between the roundheads and royalists. But the 
 subject is unpleasant — let an anecdote serve for a tangent to 
 fly off with. In some place Mr. D'Israeli having spoken of 
 persons with libraries collected for their own mere boast, as 
 being not without a Locke on the Human Understanding, a 
 French translator rendered it as a judicious remark, on 
 " Mettant l'entendement humain sous la clef." 
 
 It matters little, however, whether we choose to deny or 
 choose to accept Mr. D'Israeli as an historical authority ; his 
 writings are full of curious matter and exceedingly pleasing. 
 As were his writings so were his conversation and manners; 
 and if he did give way' occasionally to literary resentment, 
 and carried the war into the enemy's quarters, he was 
 general^ so placable that he never could have done for a 
 leader of opposition. 
 
 < 
 
 's*^^^?' /%^7*^&74>/Z ! ^~ JZ-J^fr^ 
 
( 183 ) 
 
 FRANCIS DOUCE. 
 
 GREAT authors, antiquaries, and philosophers are often 
 very odd fellows. Their learning, industry, or genius 
 does not restrain, but rather precipitates them into the now 
 almost obsolete class of " original characters." They enter- 
 tain odd notions and queer fancies, and propound opinions 
 on men and things quite peculiar to themselves, and as if 
 they could hardly discern the difference between a hawk and 
 a hand-saw. I had little familiar acquaintance with Mr. 
 Douce — few people had much ; but I met him occasionally 
 in the society of the elder D'Israeli, Archdeacon Nares, and 
 other literary celebrities of that time, who formed a sphere 
 many-coloured and pleasing to behold as it floated on the 
 atmosphere of intellectual light. Alas ! it has vanished 
 from the sky, and fallen to earth. Not a rack of its human 
 vitality survives, though still its reflected lustre lingers on 
 some literary paths. Why should the beautiful soap-bubble 
 burst and dissolve, and leave so little of a trace behind ? 
 All ! ours are the days to witness such traces fade faster and 
 faster, since science, practical knowledge, and social pro- 
 gress could never think of merely picturing the phenomena 
 as they appeared a generation ago, but must analyze them — 
 and what remains 1 Nothing material, nothing tangible, 
 nothing realizable — poor bubbles, poor bubbles, after all ! 
 Yet so determines our practical and material age. And with 
 some truth, for still higher reasons, when we think what 
 life and time are given for. Certainly for something more 
 than the curiosities of literature or of archaeology. 
 
184 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 About such men as Douce there is little practical or 
 material, excepting great diligence and indomitable per- 
 severance. I have sometimes thought that of all the pre- 
 cocities of infancy, the antiquarian precocity is the most 
 remarkable, and has been the least noticed. Biography gives 
 many instances of poets who lisped in numbers, and mechani- 
 cians who helped to make their own cradles, and self-denying 
 saints who refused the luxury of mothers' milk, and other 
 wonderfully intuitive juveniles whose inborn predispositions 
 foreboded in early childhood what their future lives would 
 be. But the genuine antiquary appears to be more extra- 
 ordinary than any of these. He is never anything else. 
 His first breath has an aged cough about it ; his first voice 
 is like an obsolete language, and his every movement is old- 
 fashioned and odd. At any rate, Francis Douce was an 
 example of this genus, and grew up to be a man of most 
 patient industry, indefatigable research, rare learning, and 
 comprehensive information. 
 
 A fine scholar, he gave himself up entirely to literature, 
 into which he was early initiated by an appointment — 
 Keeper of Manuscripts in the British Museum. At the 
 beginning of this century he flourished in full force and 
 vigour. His contiibutions to the Arclueologia, and the 
 worthy old Gentleman! s Magazine (which, by the bye, seems 
 to be renewing its strength, to meet the extension of the 
 archfeological spirit so happily awakened throughout the 
 land),* were ample and valuable. His " Pietrus Alphonsus " 
 in Ellis's " Metrical Romances," 1806, excited much notice, 
 and his edition of R. Arnold's " Chronicle of the Customs 
 of London " served to confirm his literary reputation, which 
 was soon after (1807) elevated still higher by his "Illustra- 
 tions of Shakespeare," and of ancient manners. Congenial 
 literary pursuits led to the intimacy I have mentioned with 
 the elder D'Israeli, Archdeacon Nares, Mr. Baber, Sir H. 
 
 * Since writing this it has passed into new hands. 
 
FRANCIS DOUCE. 185 
 
 Ellis, Mr. Caley, Mr. Combe, and other studious men who 
 adorned the world of letters in that time, perhaps more 
 gravely and usefully, and certainly not less instructingly, 
 than the teeming produce of the press in our own day. 
 
 Not being altogether laudator temporis acti, I may relate 
 a little story to show that there were humours and follies 
 indulged even among the distinguished personages of that 
 era. Douce and the famous William Cobbett inhabited 
 contiguous houses in Kensington. Their great quarrel was 
 sudden, though the cause was slow. It related to snails. 
 Now Cobbett was deeply interested in the recommendation 
 of Indian corn for culture in England, and was experi- 
 menting and advertising its growth in his garden, which was 
 some small annoyance to his adjacent neighbour. But the 
 antipathy was roused to rage when the latter found, or sup- 
 posed he found, certain snails intruded upon his domain by 
 being thrown over the intervening wall. He remonstrated, 
 as antiquaries will remonstrate ; but a denial such as a Peter 
 Porcupine would indite, was all the satisfaction he could get. 
 The evil seemed to increase. The snails multiplied, and I 
 will not be sure that slugs were not also fired over. There 
 was therefore no redress ; but reprisals and a regular war- 
 fare, in what authors on war would call shelling, and I, in 
 gardener fashion, may designate as snailing, ensued. It was 
 indeed a sight to behold the philosophic Dry-as-Dust, at 
 early morn, in night-gown and slippers, gathering up the 
 helices into arsenals of flower-pots, to be hurled en masse, 
 with malignant aim, into the very heart and interior of his 
 enemy's maize ; and, at dewy eve, the stout bucolic reformer 
 of governments and agriculture, collecting all he could find 
 to re-discharge into the hostile territory. The issue, if I 
 remember rightly, was that the damage to the Indian corn 
 pattern patch was irremediable, as the Cobbetians could not 
 go in to pick up the missiles, and the owner was obliged to 
 transport his experiment to a safer field, between Hammer- 
 smith Bridge and Barnes Common. 
 
186 MEN I HAVE KNOWN". 
 
 The antiquary, after this, continued to work undisturbed, 
 and produced especially the splendid volume on Holbein's 
 " Dance of Death," which he was enabled to finish and pub- 
 lish before he was himself called from his books to join in 
 the no more pictorially humorous, but solemn and universal 
 procession to the tomb. 
 
 By his will, Mr. Douce, after bequeathing portions of his 
 curious antique hoard and library, and money remembrances 
 to friends, left a sealed legacy to the nation, to be opened 
 after a lapse of years, in the British Museum. Among these 
 future antiquities, I presume there will be some very 
 valuable articles. In 1591, Sir John Harrington translated 
 the " Orlando Furioso ; " but he also completed a metrical 
 version of the Psalms, the manuscript of which was in Mr. 
 Douce's possession. This was a production well worthy of 
 preservation, and, if not contained among the relics in the 
 bequest referred to, it is very desirable to inquire what has 
 become of it. 
 
 Of the testator I recollect nothing else deserving of record. 
 In manners he was pleasing, and in dispensing the informa- 
 tion (of which his store was singularly varied) he was ready 
 and liberal. His company was accordingly always in- 
 structive, and, when enjoyed with kindred minds, made for 
 the less gifted seekers after knowledge days to be long 
 remembered, and impressions not to be forgotten. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Mr. Douce was a most assiduous and very learned 
 literary antiquary. The revelations of his bequest to the 
 nation, when the time arrives, at the British Museum, will, 
 I imagine, exceed anything my imperfect knowledge could 
 enable me to anticipate ; and therefore I seek my refuge in 
 
FRANCIS DOUCE. 187 
 
 the "sagacious silence" recommended as " saintly" by the 
 inimitable Cervantes. 
 
 I have only to add that the snail feud between him and 
 Cobbett has been represented to me as less hostile in the 
 result than I was led to state. I am assured that the 
 belligerents came to pacific terms. Douce had his waste 
 ground cleared and the rubbish and nuisances removed. 
 Like a sensible gentleman, instead of resenting the imperious 
 mandate of his irate neighbour, he laughed at his passionate 
 threat, and so quietly redressed the grievance that Cobbett 
 expressed his satisfaction, and peace was established. 
 
 fl^ttf a^%£o>. 
 
( 188 ) 
 
 MOUNTSTUABT ELPHINSTONE. 
 
 THE announcement, last year, of the death of Mr. Mount- 
 stuart Elphinstone made comparatively little impression 
 on the public mind. His name belonged to a past genera- 
 tion, of which there are now but few survivors. His fame, 
 however, will shine with increasing lustre in the pages of 
 history. A few personal recollections of this truly great 
 man may find a fitting place in my miniature gallery of 
 biographical portraits. 
 
 My first interview with Mr. Elphinstone was on his 
 return to his native land, after his long sojourn in India. 
 Knowing him not merely by public reputation, but in con- 
 sequence of some correspondence on private matters, I felt 
 strongly impressed with sentiments of admiration, and was 
 prepared to meet him in a spirit of timid deference, suitable 
 to the lofty idea I had formed of his character. My surprise 
 was complete. A gentleman of the simplest demeanour and 
 manner I ever encountered, he set me at perfect ease in a 
 few minutes, and in an hour I felt myself on terms of inti- 
 macy, transferred, indeed, to me, by his unbounded kindness, 
 from connections in the East, valued and lamented by us 
 both.* Of benign look, gentle in speech, almost diffident in 
 
 * My brother, Lieut. -Col. Jerdan, 5th Bombay Eegt. (whom the 
 East India lists would have Jai'dine), who latterly commanded with 
 distinction and success in Cutch, and had previously served in 
 various parts of the country, where he had intimate relations with 
 the civil authority of Mr. Elphinstone. 
 
MOUNTSTUART ELPHINSTONE. 189 
 
 conversation, and modest in offering opinion, it was hardly 
 possible to conceive that this was the individual whose 
 writings were of the highest historical interest ; whose 
 political services were pre-eminently momentous ; whose 
 guidance in war and administration in peace furnished 
 models of penetration, bravery, intelligence, and wisdom, 
 and produced results of incalculable importance to the 
 British Empire. 
 
 I never knew a man in whose praise every voice, public 
 and private, was so unanimously raised. If he ever had an 
 enemy, the enmity was kept concealed ; and whether discus- 
 sing his public conduct or his social relations, encomium was 
 enthusiastic and detraction dumb. Lord Buckingham, Lord 
 Amherst, Monro, Malcolm, Macintosh, all the great Indian 
 authorities, referred to him as an oracle ; and on several 
 trying occasions Ms purity and patriotism shone effectually 
 forth, so as to discomfit jobbing, and establish on the firmest 
 basis the just reputation and true interests of his country. 
 Well might Macintosh eulogise the "great modesty and 
 simplicity of his character" (-1811) ; and well might every 
 one who served with or under him bear testimony to the 
 calm and firm performance of duties the most arduous, upon 
 which the welfare and the lives of millions depended. It was 
 delightful to be with him. He lived to be eighty years of age, 
 somewhat attenuated in person, but neither worn out by the 
 climate nor subdued by the toils he had undergone during 
 many long years. His lofty and placid brow, his unassuming 
 (indeed retiring) habits, his quietude and candour, seemed 
 only to enhance the force of the convictions elicited from his 
 collocpiial endowments. Without having witnessed, it is 
 impossible to imagine the irresistible power of his intel- 
 ligence and reasoning, proceeding, as a stranger might 
 imagine, from a mind of conscious deficiency and humblest 
 order. 
 
 Yet this was the truly great man who, in the opening of 
 this century, when Malcolm went to Persia, and Metcalfe to 
 
190 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the Punjaub, undertook the no less difficult mission to 
 Cabul, of which, and of the Affghan nation, he has given so 
 admirable an account. This was the man who accompanied 
 Wellesley in the first perilous Mahratta war, and to whose 
 information and counsel as a civilian, that illustrious com- 
 mander, and his own military associate Malcolm, attached 
 so much value. This was the man who, after contributing 
 yet more to the success of the final Pindaree struggle, con- 
 solidated at Poonah, and throughout the Pishwah territory, 
 where he began his splendid career, what the victory of 
 Kirkhee bequeathed for the most profound administrative 
 genius to accomplish. This was the man who had filled the 
 government of Bombay, and twice refused the semi-royal 
 dignity of Governor-General of India. To listen to the 
 pleasing discourse of " the man " who had seen and done so 
 much, was to learn the lessons of vast experience in the 
 eloquence of quiet wisdom. The contrast was singular and 
 the effect indescribable. There was a moral grandeur in it 
 — a grandeur which did not forbid or repel familiar con- 
 fidence, but inspired a grateful sense of regard and esteem 
 in all who ever enjoyed the instructive charm of his 
 communion. 
 
 His later years were spent in social and literary retire- 
 ment, free from public occupation, save when broken in 
 upon by the Government, which sought his advice on the 
 perplexing questions of Indian policy, his published opinions 
 upon which (1831) attracted universal attention. His 
 " History of India," which has passed through four editions, 
 was another work of vast utility, and displays to great 
 advantage the talents of the scholar and the statesman. 
 The sunset of his life was in keeping with and worthy of 
 the sunrise and meridian day. Friendshrp and literature 
 softened the decline of honoured age, and to the very last 
 intercourse with him was an intense gratification. As his 
 life had passed in strenuous exertion and intellectual labour, 
 amid difficulties, and dangers, and determinations of the 
 
MOUNTSTUAKT ELPHINSTONE. 191 
 
 utmost national consequence, so did it close in philosophical 
 beauty and Christian repose.* 
 
 * To this very imperfect sketch, I have, nevertheless, only to 
 append a note. On its appearance, a correspondent wrote to the 
 editor suggesting that the last two concluding words were mis- 
 applied, for that Mr. Elphinstone was a sceptic. Referred to, I have 
 made it my business to inquire both of those who knew him inti- 
 mately in India, and of those best acquainted with him after his 
 return, and can state that they one and all repudiate the allegation. 
 
 Among the pre-eminent men who make, acquire, or save empires, 
 the name of Mountstuart Elphinstone must hold a place as long as 
 the history of India is preserved. 
 
 ^7^-^ / L^W / tZ~~^- 
 
( 192 ) 
 
 LOED CHANCELLOR ELDON. 
 
 ^F the men I have known, I seek to preserve some of the 
 private traits ; with their public character I do not 
 concern myself, except so far as may sometimes serve to 
 illustrate their social aspects, and bring out their personality 
 in the other and common relations of life. . Of some, great 
 intimacy enables me to speak so distinctly as to render their 
 likenesses what, in the arts, is styled " very striking." Of 
 others, with whom I was less familiarly acquainted, I can 
 only present portraits, though faithful as far as they go, yet 
 unfinished, with such qualities as a sitting or two could 
 supply for outline and a few peculiar points. It may readily 
 be supposed that Lord Eldon was a subject of this kind for 
 my pencil. 
 
 In his long political career, it is the general opinion that 
 Lord Eldon was wedded, nay, bigoted, to his principles. 
 There is no doubt that he was ambitious, and that he pos- 
 sessed a vast influence, which he dedicated to the mainte- 
 nance of his party in power, and himself in the pre-eminent 
 position he held — the foremost in their councils, and the 
 most managing in their interior arrangements. These are 
 matters for history to discuss ; but in these, and in his im- 
 portant seat of judgment, and in his every-day conduct, the 
 grand mainspring of all was Caution. If the Lord Chan- 
 cellor committed many contumacious suitors, he never com- 
 mitted himself. Wily and far-lookiug, a prime mover in the 
 most secret affairs, a shining light in national transactions, 
 and regarded as a righteous guide or injurious obstacle (just 
 as party politics swayed the minds of his critics), his caution 
 
LORD CHANCELLOR ELDON. 193 
 
 served him to tlie last, and lie has left a high historic name 
 for future generations to canvas and appreciate. Non nostrum 
 tantas componere lites. 
 
 In my sketches of Jekyll, and of Lord Ripon, I have re- 
 ferred to and quoted some of the facetiae of the day which 
 used to lighten the graver interests and dissipate the angry 
 feelings of dispute and controversy. A spice of good-natured 
 satire is often a sovereign remedy in cases of bitter hostility. 
 It assuages, if it does not remove, the irritation of peccant 
 humours. The often-quoted lines on a Chancery suit before 
 Lord Eldon, with all its Babel pleadings and delays without 
 end, is an amusing example of the fact : — 
 
 " Mr. Leech made a speech, 
 
 Convincing, learned, and strong; 
 Mr. Hart, on the other part, 
 
 Was tedions and long ; 
 Mr. Parker made that darker 
 
 Was dark enough without ; 
 And Mr. Bell spoke so well 
 
 The Chancellor said — ' I doubt ! ' " 
 
 On a par with this, when the political views of the party 
 in unison with those of Lord Eldon prevailed, and the 
 Prince Regent resolved to retain his father's ministers, the 
 annexed squib raised a laugh even on the resentful features 
 of disaj>pointnient : — 
 
 " Ye politicians, tell me, pray, 
 
 Why thus with grief and care rent ? 
 The wind has blown the W(h)ig away, 
 And left the Heir Apparent ! " 
 
 Continuing in the humorous vein, which was a remark- 
 able chai-acteristic of the learned lord when he exchanged 
 (as he liked well to do) the woolsack for a dining-room chair 
 or sofa in the drawing-room, it was a joke of his that he was 
 " born in a chair-foot " — chare being the Newcastle name for 
 a narrow wynd, at the bottom of one of which he first saw 
 
 o 
 
/ 
 
 194 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the dim light. To this was added the story of a judge on 
 the Northern circuit, who, unaware of the local distinction 
 from street, proceeded to commit a witness to gaol for con- 
 tempt of court, in persisting that he saw three men come out 
 of a chare-foot. Not less preposterous was the sentence of 
 an English judge on the Welsh circuit, who fined a grand 
 juror, present in court, for not answering to the name of 
 Hug Pug of Rug (as called from the roll by the clerk of 
 assize), and guilty of the incognito of Hugh Pugh of Rugh ! 
 
 Few men are gifted with more attractive conversational 
 powers than Lord Eldon. He was always lively and 
 pleasing, and full of anecdote. In the company of accom- 
 plished ladies especially, he made himself most agreeable and 
 entertaining ; insomuch that I have witnessed the greatest 
 dames in the land contend, by every female art consistent 
 with courtesy, for the prize of sitting next to him at table ; 
 and wherever he sat, thence there were sure to emanate the 
 jocund sounds of hilarity and enjoyment. No grave Lord 
 Keeper ever led the brawls with more success than did the 
 Lord Chancellor keep alive the stream of flowing cheerfulness. 
 
 His lordship was also fond of the sports of the field, and 
 in his younger days a pretty fair shot, of which he would 
 boast like other sportsmen. Latterly, though he persevered 
 in the wholesome exercise to near the end of his life, it was 
 whispered that his aim was not so good, and (which he never 
 would allow) that silver sometimes stood for lead in bringing 
 home the birds, the fulness of the bag being not always 
 attributable to bis own gun. Perhaps, his caution increasing 
 with his years, he doubted about firing till the game flew 
 away out of reach ! 
 
 It would be very unj list to ascribe Lord Eldon's extreme 
 scrupulousness, and consequently slow decision in weighing 
 and balancing conflicting statements, to any other cause 
 than a conscientious desire to arrive at the right and true. 
 Yet' it sometimes amounted to a great legal and judicial 
 grievance. In the most trifling matters the same spirit pre- 
 
LORD CHANCELLOR ELDON. 195 
 
 vailed. I remember an instance where it was required to 
 ascertain the date of his " call to the Bar," and the clue he 
 furnished for the tracing was nearly to this effect : " Search 
 so and so, a chamber in the Middle Temple, between the hall 
 and the gardens — I think on the ground floor. There cer- 
 tain records are kept. Should you not find it there, consult 
 the roll of the inn, in the keeping, I believe, of the master 
 or somebody else. But if both these should fail you, go 
 to such a place in the City, and I am tolerably sure you 
 will find it there. If not, it is really out of my power to in- 
 form you whether it was on the 13th or the 14th of the 
 month." The solution of the question was not worth a 
 pin's point, but it was the nature of the man to be thus 
 minutely precise. With large, over-hanging eyebrows, and 
 a fine dark eye, his look was placid when sedate and serious, 
 and pleasing and animated when engaged on familiar and 
 ordinary occasions. His walk was boorish. To see him 
 walk down from the woolsack to the bar in the House of 
 Peers, was like a ploughman in heavy clay, with loads of it 
 sticking to his heels. Even here his manner was jocular, 
 and his official part performed with great affability. A droll 
 example of this occurred once, when John Clerk, the cele- 
 brated Scotch advocate, was pleading, and pronounced several 
 times the word enow, for enough. The Chancellor drily re- 
 marked, " Mr. Clerk, in England we sound the oiujh as uff 
 — enuff, not enow." " Verra weel, ma Lord," continued the 
 self-possessed pleader, "of this we have said enuff; and I 
 come, ma Lord, to the subdivision of the land in dispute. 
 It was apportioned, ma Lord, into what, in England, would 
 be called pluff-land — a pluff-land being as much land as a y 
 pluffman can pluff in one day." His Lordship could with- 
 stand the ready repartee no longer, and burst into a laugh 
 that shook the woolsack, saying, " Pray proceed, Mr. Clerk ; 
 I know enow of Scotch to understand your argument." 
 
 To me it is gratifying to recall to memory this high legal 
 authority in his hours of relaxation, when he was indeed 
 o 2 
 
196 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 a playful and entertaining companion, mingling curious 
 information and rare intelligence with the common passing 
 topics. Let others quote his recondite judgments and ir- 
 reversible precedents ; it is enow or enutf for me to have 
 sketched a few of the traits which made him a delightful 
 member of refined and intellectual society. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Lord Eldon was so entirely a public character, and held 
 so much in view, that I have little I could suppose to be 
 new and of sufficient interest to be added to these few lines. 
 As I have, however, ventured to give an opinion upon his 
 admirable discharge of the duties of Lord Chancellor, I will 
 excuse the presumption by quoting from the generous 
 eulogium of Sir Samuel Romilly the crowning climax, " If 
 he had a fault, it was an over anxiety to do justice I" 
 
 Of his social good humour, I remember a very pleasant ex- 
 ample in a grandee dinner party given by Mr. Horace Twiss 
 in his small, dark dining-room — I think, with one window to 
 the street — in Series-street, Lincoln's Inn.* Several Cabinet 
 Ministers were there, and pretty well crowded together — 
 almost what is called a jam, and the Chancellor turned to to 
 make the best of it. It had been joked in the Opposition 
 newspapers, about his domestic economy, that, though the 
 
 * Horace Twiss, a member of the gifted Kemble family, was a 
 generally well-informed, kind-natured, and agreeable gentleman. 
 He rose from the literary class to be an M.P. and Under-Secretary 
 of State ; but, strange to say, even so short a while ago, this dis- 
 tinction, instead of beiug welcomed by his brethren of the press, 
 seemed to point him out for their sarcasm and detraction. Owing 
 to this discreditable feeling, and the stings it has left, I am sure that 
 much injustice has been shown towards the talent and true cha- 
 racter of Twiss. How delightfully contrasted is the feeling of the 
 present day, when literature has assumed its proper standard ; a/ud 
 hails and cheers and helps onward in the race every one bravely 
 enlisted in its ranks, and aiming at the highest offices and honours. 
 
LORD CHANCELLOR ELDON. 197 
 
 bottle circulated slowly, he loved his wine well enough to 
 drink " any given quantity." He talked of the squib, and 
 reminded the company that he came from the North, where 
 the race of six-bottle giants were not even yet extinct, and, 
 consequently, that he had imbibed some of their predilec- 
 tions, though he dared not hope to vie with them. And 
 then he pretended to push the wine about, and did so in so 
 droll a manner that there was as much merriment as if 
 gentlemanly temperance had not, as in reality it had, been 
 the order of proceeding before the woolsack. • 
 
 Elsewhere I have noticed the persistent spirit of Lord 
 Eldon in determining to be absolutely correct in the most 
 minute particulars of every subject inquired into ; and in 
 the same place another striking characteristic of him is pro- 
 duced — a proof in my opinion how much he disliked what 
 may be called humbug, and is at any rate neither commend- 
 able for taste or wisdom. " Of his runaway marriage," 
 says the account (which was submitted to his correction), " I 
 had penned it in all the flourishing style of a penny-a-liner. 
 The finely-poised language occupied about half a page of 
 type, so prettily expressed, and so delicately shaded, that it 
 seemed impossible not to admire it. But what was my 
 feeling of affront when the 'proof was returned with my 
 beautiful piece of penmanship ruthlessly struck out, and on 
 the margin the following correction, written in the Lord 
 Chancellor's own proper hand : — ' Soon after this distinction 
 (gaining the Chancellor's Prize at Oxford in 1781), an event 
 took place which, by uniting him with a helpmate for ever, 
 put Fellowships and College provisions beyond his aim. 
 Eloping with Miss Surtees, the daughter of a banker at 
 Newcastle, to Scotland, they were married, as it has been 
 reported, to the great displeasure of her family.' " 
 
 A brace of birds from his own gun could hardly make 
 such a rebuff palateable. He lived to the age of eighty-seven. 
 
( 198 ) 
 
 EDWARD FORBES. 
 
 T N these slight sketches, 
 
 " As up the stream of time I try to row," 
 
 calling to memory the " Men I have Known," there is not 
 one name that conjures up more pleasing remembrances 
 than that of Edward Forbes. For information and advice 
 it was impossible to find a wiser counsellor, for an associate 
 in toil a more willing and hard-working partner ; while for 
 times of recreation he was the very happiest and gayest, 
 and most captivating of companions. With all these 
 lovable qualities, he is gone. Before age could impair his 
 solid attainments or benumb his brilliant faculties, he was 
 taken from us, this man of rare genius, indefatigable 
 industry, and inexhaustible humour. 
 
 Biographies and posthumous memoirs have, I believe, 
 been published respecting him since his lamented death, 
 but no biography can afford a satisfactory idea of Edward 
 Forbes. The ever-changing hues on the neck of a pigeon, 
 as seen in every turn of light and shade, are not more 
 variable than was his versatile mind. I know nothing to 
 compare it with except the feat of the magician who out of 
 a single bottle could pour any sort of liquor his audience 
 called for ; so from this magic mind, at call, there could be 
 the outpouring of generous principle, fine spirit, sparkling 
 wit, scientific information, foreign intelligence, sound home 
 sense, or merely entertaining chat ! No subject came amiss : 
 
EDWAKD FORBES. 199 
 
 tin, philosophy, or fun, sympathy or satire, pathos or bur- 
 lesque, he was equally at home — at home in all — and alike 
 richly instructive or pre-eminently amusing, as the influence 
 of the hour prevailed. 
 
 A facile pencil to represent to the eye the true image of 
 every natural or ludicrous object that claimed a notice, and 
 a ready pen to embody in touching or jocose verse aught 
 that struck his exuberant fancy, were congenial adjuncts to 
 his manifold accomplishments ; and when I add genuine 
 kind-heartedness and impregnable good-nature to his other- 
 wise large scale of endowments, I have but faintly portrayed 
 a character that adorned humanity, and was but too soon 
 lost to loving friends and an admiring world. 
 
 The Isle of Man had the honour of his birth, in 1815, 
 and Edinburgh of his education. Medicine, after a trial, 
 was given up as uncongenial, but left useful traces behind, 
 as did his previous study of art in the studio of Mr. Sass in 
 London. But his predilection for painting was not warmly 
 encouraged by his teacher, and the Royal Academy would 
 have nothing to do with his aspiring efforts to become a 
 pupil in that celebrated school. And so he was driven into 
 natural history as a profession, also adventuring his pen in 
 periodical literature as the exponent of his ideas. His first 
 appearance in print was, I believe, in "The Mirror," and 
 his subject his native " Manx Superstitions." 
 
 But, innate as was his love of natural history, I have to 
 notice a moral quality, no less potential, which marked his 
 youth and overruled all the years of his life. This was the 
 kindliest love of his fellow-creatures, which showed itself in 
 every thoughtful action. It appeared to be the essence of 
 his mental faculties, and the guiding spring of his universal 
 liberality and benevolence. Candid in weighing others, and 
 meting to their faults or personal offences only the rebuke 
 of temperate censure or good-humoured satire, he was him- 
 self one of the most unfailing observer's of the Golden Rule, 
 practising it as if simply moved by spontaneous impulse, and 
 
200 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 not as from a habit acquired by generous consideration of 
 what might be due to human frailty and error. 
 
 Thus, at college, his earliest aspirations were addressed 
 to the formation of social compacts, with some common 
 object or objects in view, and the cultivation of brotherly 
 affections to cement the union. These afforded happy 
 recreation, and cheered the student on with his labours. 
 Forbes' s attachment to his brotherhoods was unbounded and 
 enduring. His " Fraters of the Triangle " were companions 
 and friends of the most genial order. I need not speak of 
 their ceremonies or mysteries : all were conducive to 
 innocent pleasures, and all contributed (as similar associa- 
 tions of youth invariably do if wisdom is joined with mirth) 
 to the expansion of the heart and the improvement of the 
 head. As a climax to this Edinburgh fraternal combination, 
 in his twentieth year he not only enrolled a Maga Club, but 
 started a University Magazine, which manfully, or rather 
 boyfully, competed with the astute Blackwood, throughout 
 a dozen of numbers, so full of mirth and frolic that it might 
 be esteemed the prototype of similar popular publications of 
 the present day. Of course the chief of the leading mem- 
 bers could not be out of the famous snow-ball riots which 
 at that time caused such a commotion between town and 
 gown ; but they all escaped responsibility, and the sensible 
 adoption of conciliatory measures speedily restored the 
 belligerents to harmony and the status quo, without im- 
 peachment of any grave transgressions ; snow-balling 
 being, in fact, an honoured pastime in that noi'thern climate, 
 and supposed to have existed anterior to, or at least con- 
 temporaneously with, the glacial period. 
 
 In intervals of academic study Forbes travelled, princi- 
 pally in the north of Europe, in pursuit of a practical 
 knowledge of the science of natural history. Diligent were 
 his studies, and most pei'severing his devotedness to obtain 
 new data whereon to build the comprehensive and masterly 
 theories with which he has enriched it. 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 201 
 
 I may here as well speak of liis dredging operations, 
 which were continued, "with increase of appetite, to the 
 close of his active career. On these explorations the love 
 of companionship still haunted him ; and the liveliness and 
 dirty slop of the crazy little boat generally emj^loyed on 
 these occasions are not to be imagined by landsmen or grave 
 scientific professors of astronomy or mathematics. Perhaps 
 my reader never went out a-dredging. I have indulged in 
 the entertainment ; and for the change soon wrought on 
 your internal comfort and external appearance the exploit 
 of descending the depths of a dripping, splashing Cornish 
 mine is, as I can avouch, a joke to it. There is barely room 
 for four, with their knees sticking together, when the trawl 
 is preparing, and their heads knock together when the 
 draught is emptied into the bottom of the boat ; and, 
 being arrayed like a Triton, in dulce and tangle, and other 
 sea-weeds, covered with mud and slime, and drowned with 
 salt-water, you have nothing to do but examine the speci- 
 mens brought to light. And a precious job it is. The 
 refuse slides quickly through your painstaking and pains- 
 feeling hands. Now one inhabitant of the deep revenges 
 your invasion by pricking you with a bone as sharp as a 
 penknife, and another stings you to the quick as you drop 
 the whole cargo you have lifted with a celerity that might 
 be enviable in pure fresh- water fly-fishing, when striking 
 the fish instead of the fish striking you. Presently you hear 
 a zoological shout ! Is the boat sinking ? No ! A living 
 and lively Holothuria squamata has been found amid the 
 wrack, with an unaccountable number of tentacula ; ample 
 reward for all the drenching of the dredging and fatigue of 
 the haul. And, oh, joy ! what is this 1 A quite new 
 Chemnitzia rufescens, with whorls, ribbed, striated, and 
 banded as no creature above the tenth of an inch in size 
 was ever marked before. Raptures increase. An unknown 
 Rissoa is dragged up from thte abyss ; and we are all in 
 high scientific spirits as we deposit our captives in phials of 
 
202 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 material spirits — it may be whisky, of which, we are glad to 
 take a sip — while, wet and weary, we look down upon a 
 lot of star-fishes, which, under the circumstances, we might 
 gracefully affix to our bosoms as insignia of our Knight- 
 hood of the (Sea-)Bath ! 
 
 Yet it was in this way that Edward Forbes, on the 
 expanse of many a shore, and from the bottom of many a 
 sea, explored the minutest secrets in their keeping, elaborated 
 his theories of the flora and fauna of the ancient world, and 
 traced their distribution over vast regions, now utterly 
 changed. These researches and inductions at once raised 
 him to superior eminence among our foremost men of 
 science, in every line of intellectual pursuit, and, un- 
 questionably, to the head of that particular branch to the 
 study and practical application of which he devoted so large 
 a share of his energies. His ' ' History of British Star- 
 fishes " placed him in the front rank among Europe's 
 scientific naturalists, and every after-addition, inhisBeports 
 to the British Association and separate publications, served 
 to reveal the ardour of his character and augment his fame. 
 An expedition to the ^Egean, under the auspices of Govern- 
 ment, opened new sources for comparison and illustration, 
 and the collections were zealously investigated, and then- 
 results stated in a masterly manner. 
 
 Returned home again, the annual meetings of the British 
 Association, as usual, presented the fairest theatres for the 
 display of his various powers. Fhilosophy in sport, and 
 playful attraction in philosophy, rendered " The Wise 
 "Week," as the Edinburgh boys called it, always a holiday, 
 equally divided into valuable instruction and social pleasure. 
 With the former it does not belong to such a paper as this 
 to deal more at length. With the latter I may amuse a few 
 moments, though touching regrets are sadly mingled with 
 my recollections. 
 
 In my "Traits of Frofessor Buckland," I have already 
 noticed some of the matters incident to the assemblages of 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 203 
 
 the British Association, and the sayings and the doings of 
 several of the leading members. The political struggles in 
 1830-1-2 created an enormous taste for public speaking 
 throughout the country, and at last it got to such a pitch 
 that hardly could three persons meet together without an 
 exhibition of the reigning habit. Of course, public, semi- 
 pnblic, and even moderately numerous private dinners were 
 carried along by the fashion ; and, wherever you visited, there 
 were sure to be nearly as many speakers as hearers. Conse- 
 quently the prandial entertainments of the British Asso- 
 ciation were not exempt from the oratorical contagion. On 
 the contrary, they were pre-eminent for the fulsome 
 administering of compliments, in superabundance as to 
 number, and generally of the grossest adulation as to 
 language. The chiefs of the sections, the secretaries, the 
 officials of every description, so bespattered each other with 
 flattery that the custom resolved itself into a remorseless 
 bore, which annoyed everybody else ; the best method to 
 encounter which was to laugh at and leave it to its own 
 exhaustion. After being assured for the twentieth time 
 that A. was equal to Aristotle, that B. had far outdone Bacon, 
 that C. surpassed Copernicus, and that D. threw Decandolle 
 entirely into the shade, and listening to the gentlemen who 
 were told all this to their faces, diffidently returning thanks 
 for the " unmerited honours " perpetrated upon them 
 (besides toasting their healths in very indifferent wine), 
 it seemed to be time to seek some more rational refuge else- 
 where, to recruit the bodies and refresh the minds wearied 
 with the learned discussions all day in the sections. Chance 
 favoured the design for deserting the formal dinner. A few 
 members, on a stroll from Birmingham one day, saw a clean- 
 looking hostelry on the road-side, and flourishing under the 
 sign of the " Red Lion." Here they pitched their tent 
 for the nonce, and enjoyed a pleasant meal, far from the 
 noisy plaudits that greeted the after-dinner speeches of the 
 Association. 
 
204 MEN I HAVE KNOWN". 
 
 "Well, the " Red Lion " treat was so appreciated that a 
 group of associates agreed to adopt a day or two during the 
 meetings to dine together. The title of the Red Lions was 
 assumed, and Forbes was elected, by acclamation, president 
 of a club some of the members of which are now among 
 the foremost in the world in every branch of science. That 
 it was a signal relief from the ordinary course hitherto 
 pursued, and a marvellously enjoyable melange in itself, 
 cultivating scientific sympathies and kindly dispositions, 
 commingling wit and wisdom, may be surmised from the 
 conspicuous position it soon occupied in everything that 
 pertained to the holding of those annual Parliaments of 
 Science. 
 
 On these occasions Forbes usually had a new song, con- 
 taming allusions to the special incidents or locality of the 
 year's meeting. At Cork, the vicinity of the Blarney Stone 
 offered a tempting opportunity to refer to the old failing of 
 the Dons of the Association, and the improvement that had 
 been effected through playful satire. Many, even of Section 
 C (Geology), spurned the invitation to kiss the renowned 
 stone : — 
 
 "Once flattery seem'd to council-men 
 The object of their journey ; 
 But now they're growing wise again, 
 And leaving off their blarney ! " 
 
 With all his love of social companionship, Forbes was a 
 man of very temperate habits, and kept good order at these 
 festivals. The nearest approach to irregularity that I 
 remember was once at Edinbui^gh. It was a year when 
 the astronomers mustered strong, and Lord Rosse's telescope 
 had raised strange questions about nebulae, and double stars, 
 and other wonders of the heavens. When the club was 
 breaking up from one of its festive " feeds " far on in the 
 night, some one proposed that they, the Lions, should 
 ascend the Calton Hill, which is crowned by the Obser- 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 205 
 
 vatoiy, and verify the astronomical reports. Having 
 repaired thither, Forbes declared (with sly hit at the Scottish 
 love of whisky -toddy) that none of the stars were fixed, 
 and all were double ! One of this volunteer party of star- 
 gazers was the well-known Mr. Ransome of Ipswich, who 
 had bought a cup of Robert Burns, as a memorial of 
 Scotland. On this relic he caused the names of the whole 
 party to be engraved, and for the subsequent meeting of the 
 Association at Ipswich, invited them all to meet again 
 round his hospitable table. 
 
 The Red Lions mystified every circle round the centres 
 of the Association, and led to the most amusing conjectures 
 in the localities where they blazoned their symbols with red 
 chalk upon rocks and walls, till at last the great Dons were 
 forced to yield to the infection, and acknowledge the im- 
 perium in imperio ; and the club flourished, not only 
 throughout the land, but established head-quarters in an 
 old tavern in a Fleet-street court in the capital, and there 
 gave a dinner to the Prince of Canino and the foreign 
 scientific visitors of the year, at which it would not be easy 
 to say whether the strangers were most astonished or 
 delighted ; at any rate, they beat the Lions themselves in 
 wagging their (coat) tails, and in their roar, and in their 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 The unbending of the bow with harmless hilarity and 
 discretion has been recommended by the ablest and soundest 
 authorities, secular and divine, in every age and country. 
 I remember going to Sir Astley Cooper's in Herts. I 
 found him on the lawn playing at leap-frog with his juniors ; 
 and a friend of mine, under like circumstances, discovered 
 Francis Jeffrey at the same amusement. You never catch 
 stupid fellows or fools at such derogatory sports. Absolute 
 idlers can have but a faint, if any, sense of the enjoyment of 
 persons who have no idle time, and who can refresh their 
 wasted spirits even by joining in the recreations of child- 
 hood, and brace their nerves to the renewal of hard work 
 by mingling in the cordial gusto of social relaxation. 
 
206 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 With the humour of a Rabelais for applying ridicule as 
 one of the minor (and often erroneous) tests of truth, Pro- 
 fessor Forbes never forgot the suitable occasion for pro- 
 claiming and defending it. On his own subjects, practical 
 and profound in judgment, and able and acute in argument, 
 his scientific knowledge and its philosophical application 
 were of a very forcible order. What he wrote he wrote 
 well, for he wrote thoughtfully ; and what he said he said 
 well, for he spoke aptly and clearly. He was consequently 
 an eminent ornament to literature, and a distinguished 
 figure upon the public platform. In short, he was, and he 
 deserved to be, exceedingly popular wherever he was and 
 whatever he undertook or did. I hope I have not done 
 him injustice and undervalued him by dwelling so much 
 upon his sprightly relaxations and witty sallies. 
 
 Inured to bachelorhood (a subject on which he wrote 
 pleasantly so late as 1848), having embalmed dodos, and 
 sea-serpents, and oysters, and many other subjects of, and 
 as many not of, natural history, in the happiest vein of 
 comic verse, at last the bolt fell, and the philosopher yielded 
 to the vocation. How he wooed and won in earnest it is 
 not for me to guess ; but I can quote a specimen of his 
 drollery when, as a palaeontologist, he seemed to be wooing 
 in play with a "Valentine :" — 
 
 " Borne upon Pterodactyl's wing, 
 
 This heart, which once you deem'd of stone, 
 Model of maids ! to thee I bring, 
 And offer it to thee alone. 
 
 Not Owen, pondering o'er bone 
 
 Of great Dinornis, fonder grew 
 Of mighty wingless birds unknown 
 
 Than I, sweet maid, of you. 
 
 The Glyptodon, whicli Darwin found 
 
 Beside the South Atlantic main, 
 Was in no harder armour bound 
 
 Than that my spirit did enchain ; 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 207 
 
 Till, bade by thee, Love rent in twain 
 
 The fetters which my fancy tied 
 To boulder, glacier, and moraine, 
 
 And bore me to thy side ! 
 
 Like some fantastic Trilobite 
 
 That perish'd in Silurian sea, 
 And long lay hid from mortal sight, 
 
 So was the heart I yield to thee. 
 
 Now from its stony matrix free, 
 
 Thy palaeontologic skill 
 Once more hath call'd it forth to be 
 
 The servant of thy will." 
 
 Married to a young lady of good family and graceful 
 manners, T know not how it conformed with the past for 
 my friend to adapt himself to the different classes of society 
 which rather belong to fashionable than to free life. It was 
 a considerable change ; but still he had a loveable partner 
 and a refined home. Poor lady ! sorrows have flowed 
 to her since she lost a husband worth fifty heirs to the 
 peerage. 
 
 On the death of the veteran Professor Jamieson, the 
 election of Forbes to the chair of Natural History in the 
 Univei'sity of Edinburgh was unanimously hailed as the 
 installation of the right man in the right place, and did 
 indeed promise much for the advancement of science and of 
 the fame and interests of the Northern school. But it was 
 not to be. Soon, too soon, the hopes already fruiting were 
 cut off by the premature death of this very remarkable 
 man, rarely gifted by nature with many and various eminent 
 qualities, raised aloft, even to the height of science, by 
 indefatigable study and labour ; genial, kind-hearted, 
 humorous, peculiar, singular ; a combination such as we 
 seldom see the seal set upon, to give us the assurance of a 
 man to be esteemed, admired, and lamented in whatever 
 light he was known. Truly we shall not look upon his 
 like again ! 
 
208 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Of my gifted friend Edward Forbes I could write a 
 volume ! Correspondence, opinions upon the prominent, 
 literary, and scientific topics of the times, jeux cFesprit in 
 prose and verse, and pleasing miscellanies of many a shape 
 and hue, almost distract my attention ; and, then, I get so 
 enthralled with the unarranged and unarrangeable con- 
 fusion of wisdom and drollery, that I cannot turn away to 
 commit (as best I might) any tolerable notion of the mass 
 to paper. I can, therefore, only add " a thing of shreds and 
 patches." 
 
 But while alluding to his happy flow of spirits, I should 
 not forget to state that on graver occasions he was con- 
 stitutionally very diffident, and that he had during a long 
 period to contend against fits of sickness, brought on, 
 probably, by his too frequent exposure, in his dredging pur- 
 suits, to the weather, and the arduous nature of his foreign 
 travels. Of a public lecture (received with immense 
 applause), which he delivered in Southwark, for the benefit 
 of a Literary Institution there, he wrote to me that his 
 nervousness was so great, he feared he had not made him- 
 self understood ; and, repeatedly, the fever which broke 
 out from his intromission with " the Xanthian poison," was 
 the cause of disappointing me of anticipated pleasant meet- 
 ings. And yet he would sport with the verse on the Roast 
 Porcupine as a relief, and in one of his notes, he can even 
 jest with the suffering which confined him to his bed, a 
 painful inflammation of the kidneys, which he denominated 
 " the potato disease." 
 
 " The Reminiscence of Xanthus, by a Histricophagous 
 Traveller," has been so often quoted in various publications, 
 that I will only copy the last verse from the original 
 manuscript. 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 209 
 
 " Talk of your turtle ! No Alderman 
 Fed upon green fat and fin, 
 Deserves by a cook to be call'd a man, 
 If Porky his heart couldn't win. 
 
 My faith conscientious is, if he came 
 
 To Lycia, he'd never repine, 
 Nor sigh for the white-bait of silver Thame, 
 
 Over cold boast porcupine ! " 
 
 Under the nomme de plume, of the deeply learned Irish 
 Professor O'Mullins, a far-west hedge schoolmaster of 
 enormous talent, jocosely did he mete out his witty stream 
 of spiced irony on some of our leaders in science, and the 
 follies and pretensions of the sciences they taught : not 
 without a sly touch at the versatile Buckland. " Boys," lie 
 would say, " be aisy — don't overwork. Generalise, boys ; 
 generalise ! that's your sort. Read German — harder the 
 better. Lump your reading together, and swear it's a 
 generalisation. But mind ye. boys, when ye publish your 
 generalisations, and lecture on your discoveries, always 
 forget to mention where you got them. The world won't 
 miss it, nor think the worse of ye ! It was from neglecting 
 to consult foreign sources of information, that half the dis- 
 coveries of English philosophers were found to have been 
 already made, and half our new creatures already described." 
 And his first illustrative incursion was into phytology, and 
 a luscious parody on Goethe, 
 
 " To a pretty maid talking as the wise man was walking; " 
 
 and he taught her botany, descanting wonderfully on 
 plants, — 
 
 " Just mark the progression — the handsome procession, 
 
 By degrees (like the doctor's), first blossom, then fruit-maluDg, 
 The fair plant arises — how the seed first surprises 
 
 You and I, a% d itself coming up from the earth-quakiDg ! 
 Attracted by good light — real solar, not Bude light." 
 P 
 
210 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 And so on through the growth till the lecturer 
 
 " Got the fact up, 
 To think that the foliage, so grand in its old age, 
 Like an egg in a bottle, in the seed first was packed up ! " 
 
 The next raid is into the realm of natural history, with its 
 minutiae and circumlocution ; and terminates with " the 
 Anatomy of the Oyster," which the Professor divides into 
 two orders ; first the "Green," which suffer themselves to be 
 taken without fattening, and are, after all, not worth the 
 trouble of catching, and the second the " Natives," or true 
 Daniel Lamberts, which grow fat in their beds, and never 
 leave them except when invited to a pleasant party and 
 good company. Here is one stanza of the five equally 
 demonstrative — 
 
 " The fringes that circle his body, 
 
 Which epicures think should be clear' d, 
 Are the animal's lungs — for, 'tis odd, he 
 
 Like a foreigner, breathes through his beard ! 
 And among all his memorabilia, 
 
 Than this structure there's none half so queer, 
 Though Sharpey may say they are cilia, 
 A wiser contrivance to ' speer,' 
 Let him try ! " 
 
 But the O'Mullins on Discoveries at large, diverges more, 
 as might be expected, into generalisation : in his you tlihe 
 " settled upon the brains of his contemporaries " to extract 
 them ; and in his maturity he came bravely out with, and 
 demonstrated that Discoveries were of two kinds, — "those 
 made before a thing is found out, and those made after." 
 He illustrated this view of the question by instances care- 
 fully selected from the history of science, and denounced 
 the popular error that finding out a thing for the first time, 
 or developing a law never thought of before, was a discovery! 
 For no sooner was such a pretence set up, ttyaii others came 
 forward to prove that the discovery was made by somebody 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 211 
 
 else, or that he, the objector, had done the very same thing 
 himself. Geology and the Glacial theory came in for a rub ; 
 and the claims so frequently put forth in the name of 
 Agassiz are compared through his eulogist with the 
 " omniscient vice-chancellor of German literature, the 
 many-sided Goethe," and whimsically ridiculed. 
 
 Arago's persistent denial of the merit of any remarkable 
 invention or discovery to England, and assertion that they 
 were all French ; and the later dispute between Le Verrier 
 and Adams might bear upon this proposition ; but Forbes 
 had enough for his pun and fun-making. He darts into the 
 tube of the microscope, though " a narrow way and a slip- 
 pery," as a sure high road to scientific fame, for there "ye 
 can be an anatomist without knowing anatomy, a botanist 
 without botany, a chemist without chemistry, and a zoologist 
 without zoology : and thus runs the " Chanson Microsco- 
 pique." 
 
 " Of all the late discoveries of later years made known, 
 
 There are few like those which Ehrenberg* is finding out in stone ; 
 
 No wonder that philosophers about them write and talk ; 
 
 For he shows that animalcule are even up to chalk ! 
 
 Oh, my eye ! 
 What a help is a microscope to my eye ! 
 
 Where'er the mighty Prussian goes, there rotifers are too, 
 And stuffing them with indigo, he makes them all look blue ; 
 Rock, mud, and water, clay and sand, to find them he explores, 
 And since of late he's ta'en to chalk, he opens many scores. 
 
 Oh, my eye, &c. 
 
 The little brutes invisible, he everywhere finds out ; 
 Through land and sea their skeletons are scattered about ; 
 Our very walls their tiny skins have furnish' d with the plaster: 
 A hard fate truly theirs when dead, to turn to alabaster ! 
 
 Oh, my eye, &c. 
 
 * Ehrenberg's discoveries of innumerable organisms was a com- 
 plete rage, and costly portfolios of engravings of the monsters inun- 
 dated the press of Germany and England. 
 p 2 
 
212 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Yet when alive, although so small, these microscopic animals 
 Ferociously each other munch, like Australasian cannibals ; 
 And to indulge this appetite, which delicate as great is, 
 Each carries, pack'd up in his trunk, a cooking apparatus ! 
 
 Oh, my eye, &c. 
 
 Odd appellations have they got, to suit their forms so strange, 
 Which twist, and turn, and wheel about, with everlasting change ! 
 Odd places are their habitats, yet wherefore should we doubt, 
 If monsters so extravagant be sometimes up the spout ! 
 
 Oh, my eye, &c. 
 
 No living thing is made in vain — a law who dare deny ? 
 So infusorials were made in water to supply 
 Tea-totallers with nourishment ; and, now we also know, 
 Grog doth its strength to volvices and not to spirits owe ! 
 
 Ob, my eye, &c. 
 
 Thus Ehrenberg's discoveries lead to this grand conclusion 
 (That is, supposing all be right, and barring all delusion)— 
 That little folks look big among the less distinguish'd classes, 
 According to the quality and number of the glasses ! 
 
 Oh, my eye ! 
 What a help a microscope is to my eye ! " 
 
 This playful effusion is succeeded by some entertaining lines 
 on the " Wonders of Science," as the Comet, then the object 
 of common talk and controversy, enlivened with some 
 comparisons of living celebrities ; hut I will not follow this 
 particular track any farther, and, sorry at having to limit 
 my specimens to small disjointed bits, leave the rest (I 
 wish it might be for publication hereafter in a collection of 
 Forbes' s Miscellanies) to a period I shall never see, even 
 through the microscope ! But I must return to my friend 
 the Dodo, who furnished matter for prolonged jest and 
 merriment, besides that noticed in the sketch of Dr. Buck- 
 land. The quarto volume published by Mr. Strickland and 
 Dr. Melville had lent additional interest to the arguments 
 founded upon the remains of this nearly two hundred years 
 extinct bird, and its kindred, affecting the periodical 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 213 
 
 creation of new animal life, or the continuation of species 
 (with a select difference) a la Darwin. The fanciful restora- 
 tion of their quaint-looking figures, and the importance 
 attached to the discussion, was exactly of a nature to 
 provoke the sportive muse of Forbes, and thus he sang the 
 Dodo :— 
 
 THE FATE OF THE DO-DO. 
 
 An Ornithological Romance. 
 
 Do-do ! Vasco de Gama* 
 
 Sail'd from the Cape of Good Hope with a crammer, 
 How he had met, in the Isle of Mauritius, 
 A very queer bird what was not very vicious, 
 Call'd by the name of a Do-do ; 
 And all the world thought what he said was true. 
 
 Do-do ! This wonderful creature 
 
 Exhibited one most remarkable feature, 
 
 That though it was plain he a bird was by his bill, 
 
 Devil a wing was on either side visible, 
 
 Sich a do-do-do ! 
 There's nothing like finding out something new. 
 
 Do-do ! A Dutchman shot him, 
 
 And look'd at the bird's latter end when he got him, 
 Where, wondrous to mention, of tail there was not a trace, 
 But five little curling grey feathers he'd got in place. 
 
 Jist a do-do-do ! 
 No wonder Mynheer look'd puzzled and blue. 
 
 Do-do ! Our bird was no Cupid, 
 
 But preciously ugly and grievously stupid ; 
 
 So the sailors at first, though for fun they befriended him, 
 
 For a taste of his gizzard 'fore long 23ut an end to him : 
 
 Yet the do- do- do 
 Might have lived on if he could have^ew .' 
 
 * Mr. Strickland decidedly objects to Vasco de Gama having his 
 name mentioned. as the first discoverer of the Do-do. Vasco, it is 
 said, saw only a penguin. But as Vasco de Gama sounds infinitely 
 
214 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Do-do ! The Hollander boil'd him, 
 
 And spitchcock'd his gizzard, and otherwise spoil'd him ; 
 And to prove what an eatable species of bird he'd caught, 
 The claws and the bill of his dinner aboard he brought — 
 
 Do-do-do-do — 
 All that remain' d of a genus quite new ! 
 
 Do-do ! Although we can't see him, 
 
 His picture is hung in the British Museum ; 
 
 For the creature itself, we may judge what a loss it is 
 
 When" its claw and its bill are such great curiosities, 
 
 Do-do ! Do- do ! 
 Ornithologists all have been puzzled by you ! 
 
 Do-do ! Monsieur de Blainville, 
 Who hits very hard all the nails on his anvil, 
 Maintains that the bird was a vulture rapacious. 
 And neither a wader nor else gallinaceous ; 
 
 A do-do ; a do-do, 
 And not a cock-a-doodle-doo ! 
 
 Do-do ! John Edward Gray, sir, 
 
 Doubted what Mr. de Blainville did say, sir, 
 
 And held that the bird was a rank imposition, 
 
 And that the old Dutchman had seen a vile vision — 
 
 A do -do ! a regular do ! 
 And didn't believe one word was true ! 
 
 Do-do ! Alas for our wisdom ! 
 
 Strickland has come to the judgment and his doom, 
 By a hole in the head and a bone with a ridge on, 
 So that our rara avis is only a pigeon, 
 
 Our do-do only a doo, 
 A regular doo, like a turtle-doo ! 
 
 Do-do ! Tet I have a fancy 
 
 That we in the mystery something more can see — 
 
 That Vasco de Garna, jist begging his pardon, 
 
 Cotch'd a gull with clipp'd wings in a blackamoor's garden, 
 
 And call'd this do, a do-do. 
 And the bill and claws saved from the poultry stew ! 
 
 better in verse than Captain Von Neck, the true discoverer, the poet 
 avails himself of the licence accorded to his tribe. 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 215 
 
 Moral. 
 
 Do-do ! Alas ! there are left us 
 
 No more remains of the didus ineptus, 
 
 And so, in the progress of science, all prodigies 
 
 Must die, as the palm-trees will some day at Loddiges, 
 
 And like our wonderful do-do, 
 Turn out not worth the hullabaloo ! * 
 
 I am aware that this humorous disputing with scientific 
 problems may Dot be so much to the taste of the general 
 reader, as to those conversant with the subject • but their 
 productions were always happy moments to me. I had a 
 warm affection for Forbes, and my sympathies have sur- 
 vived the lapse of years. 
 
 " I cannot but remember such things were, 
 And were most dear " 
 
 * The humour of this bit of philosophy in sport will be apparent 
 enough to every one present at the British Association, where the 
 description of the Dodo, a bird found on three islands of the Indian 
 Archipelago by the early Portuguese navigators, and only extinct 
 within the last two centuries, occupied the long evening lecture by 
 Mr. Strickland on Monday, and hours of discussion in Section D on 
 the following morning; when, in spite of the Prince of Canino's 
 contending for its being of the cock-a-doodle species, it was generally 
 voted to be a gigantic pigeon, and a percher, though destitute of 
 wings. The subject gave rise to some diversion among graver in- 
 quiries. Since our return from the congress, another pleasant cor- 
 respondent has sent us the following : — ■ 
 
 " First verse of a ditty intended to be sung" in opposition to Pro- 
 fessor Forbes's verses on the Dodo, at one of the dinners of the 
 Red Lions at Oxford, 1847. 
 
 Of all the queer birds that ever you'd see, 
 The Dodo's the queerest of Columbidce, 
 For all her life long she ne'er sat on a tree, 
 And when the Dutch came, away went she. 
 Tee wit, tee woo, I'd have you to know, 
 There ne'er was such a bird as our famed Dodo. 
 
 I. 0. W." 
 
216 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 And upon this feeling] (or failing it may be thought in a 
 literary point of view), I venture with yet a little more of 
 my lamented friend. I have reminiscences of much not 
 known to be his writing, and some things in manuscript 
 that may, and others that could not well, see the light, on 
 account of their pungent sarcasm upon offensive incidents 
 which are better forgotten with those whose memories 
 they would slur. Not so his didactic Culinary poetry to the 
 famous cook Ude — 
 
 " He, whose great art is so beloved by man, 
 All wish to pot the ' universal Pan ; ' " 
 
 and rattling on with a hit here and there, as at Laureate 
 Southey's "puff" introduction to Madoc — 
 
 " Come, listen to a tale of times of old, 
 
 Come, for ye know me 
 
 Come listen to my lay ; ' 
 
 which our satirist parodies on the introduction of the fish : 
 
 "Ye Ichthyologists ! to you I say, 
 As Southey sings — come, listen to my lay ! 
 Come, listen to my lay ! Ye shall be told 
 Far better things than ' tales of times of old ! ' " 
 
 And so they are through all the festive studies of the dinner- 
 table. Father Mathew's teatotal voyage to China, unlucky 
 Dr. Lardner in a sad scrape, the famous Sea Serpent, 
 cropped up all in their turn, and were suitably handled. 
 Of the last, which Charles Swain exalted — 
 
 " Behemoth and dragon old, 
 All in song or story told, 
 
 Vast and strange ; 
 Are as minnows unto me — 
 Floating roods upon the sea, 
 
 In my range. 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 217 
 
 Monarch of the main am I, 
 And my title to deny, 
 Who shall dare ? " 
 
 Forbes, after reciting all Captain M'Quae's marvellous 
 account, sang that 
 
 " Owen came down 
 Slap on its crown, 
 
 And put an extinguisher on its renown ; 
 Determined the beast's proper nature to ferret, he 
 Dissected its picture with awful severity." 
 
 And concludes — 
 
 " So our nautical friends would do well to look steadier, 
 Next time they stir up the P. Proboscidia ! " 
 
 I am sorely tempted by a song rehearsing the " Return 
 from Dudley by water ; " * and another celebrating the 
 feats of "Dredging;" but must reluctantly leave them, in 
 order to bring my rechauffe to a close. Mr. Forbes was as 
 facile and humorous with his pencil as with his pen. On 
 returning with him in the steam-packet from Ireland, there 
 was hardly a Paddy or a pig that he did not sketch with 
 most laughable fidelity, whether as accurate portraits or 
 caricatures. And such a scene it was to paint ! The 
 tumultuous intermixture of the human and animal passen- 
 gers — the difficulty, in some of the groups, to distinguish 
 men from beasts, so common were the likenesses — and 
 indeed all the accessories to this voyage are impressed upon 
 my memory by his delightful companionship, as if they 
 were of the date of yesterday. His fount of entertainment 
 and instruction never ceased to flow. 
 
 *-7 I 
 
 * By a section of the British Association savants, after visiting 
 Lord Dudley's stupendous works. 
 
218 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 So much has been said and written about the famous 
 Red Lions, I hope their original charter and representation 
 in the Den may be acceptable : — 
 
 Eules adopted by the Red Lion Section of the British 
 Association. 
 
 1st. — Birmingham Members of the Bed Lion to be alone consi- 
 dered as old Members of the Section. 
 
 2nd. — Any person being a Life Member of the Association, or an 
 Annual Member, who is likely to promote the several objects that 
 the Association has in view, may, on being recommended by five 
 Members of the Red Lion Section to the Bresident, be balloted for, 
 and, if approved of by three-fourths of the Meeting then assembled, 
 become a Member of the Section. 
 
 3rd. The Bresident, Vice-Bresident, and original Members now 
 present at York, may nominate Members without resorting to the 
 foregoing Bule, but at all future Meetings of the Association, that 
 Rule shall be strictly adhered to. 
 
 4th. Members may, through the Bresident or Vice-Bresident, in- 
 troduce a Member of the Association as a strange visitor to any of 
 the Section's Dinners ; but those Members of the Association are not 
 to be considered as Members of the Red Lion Section. 
 
 5th. Every Member of the Section will be expected to attend, as 
 far and as often as he possibly can, to the Dinners of the Red Lion 
 Section. 
 
 6th. Every Member who shall wilfully neglect to attend to the 
 Dinners of the Section, shall, for every case of such neglect, forfeit 
 the sum of 2s. 6d. (to be appropriated as the Members then present 
 may direct), and shall be liable to be expelled the Section ; and any 
 Member not attending three consecutive meetings of the Association 
 shall forfeit his claim to Membership, but may be re-elected on giving 
 proper and satisfactory explanation for such non-attendance. 
 
 7th. In all transactions concerning the Red Lion Section, Fifteen 
 Members will be required to form a quorum, or two-thirds of the 
 Members then on the list of the Section. 
 
EDWARD FORBES. 219 
 
 8th. The foregoing Rales can only be altered at a General Meeting 
 of Members called together for that purpose, at any of the future 
 Meetings of the Association, and any change must be carried by a 
 majority of two-thirds of the Members then present. 
 
 Signed at York this 28th day of September, 1844. 
 
 President. 
 Henry L. Lindsay, C.E., M.R.I.A., &c. 
 
 Vice-President. 
 Edward Forbes, F.L.S. 
 
 Original Members. 
 Charles C. Babington, M.A., F.L.S. 
 Edwin Lankester, M.D., F.L.S. 
 Jas. Edw. Winterbottom, M.A., F.L.S. 
 
 In pursuance of Rule 3, we hereby elect the following gentlemen Mem- 
 bers of the Bed Lion Section, their Date of Membership to commence 
 at York : — 
 
 Rob. Ball, M.R.I.A. Professor Richard Owen, F.R.S., 
 
 Professor I. H. Balfour, M.D., F.G.S., &c. &c. 
 
 F.R.S.E., &c. John Shuttleworth. 
 
 Professor D. T. Ansted, F.G.S. L. L. B. Ibbetson, F.G.S. 
 
 Wm. Jerdan. Dr. Lyon Playfair. 
 
 Professor G. J. Allman, M.D., Harry D. S. Goodsir, M.W.S. 
 
 M.R.I.A. Robt. McAndrew. 
 
 Hugh E. Strickland, F.G.S. Bindon Blood, F.R.S.E. 
 
 Dr. J. Percy. John Goodsir. 
 
( 220 ) 
 
 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 
 
 NO green turf covers the grave of Franklin. The drifting 
 snow and benumbing ice shroud his remains, and the 
 howling Arctic blast for ever and ever repeats his requiem, 
 and spreads its wailing dirge over the desolation where the 
 gallant seaman is laid to rest. His enterprise is over. 
 Those elements against which he persevered with such dar- 
 ing constancy vanquished him at last ; and he has only given 
 an immortal name and interest to a spot which human foot 
 can rarely tread, and human sympathies but faintly pene- 
 trate. Yet many a mournful look is cast in that direction; 
 many an eye glistens when the sad tale is told ; and many a 
 touching voice breathed the universal feeling — even anxious 
 to learn if a cairn of stones or shred of England's flag might 
 exist, to point the ken of the explorer to the sacred couch 
 where sleeps the brave. 
 
 I never looked upon a man whose features afforded less 
 idea of his character than did those of Captain Franklin. 
 They were of the genuine English type gently modified, as 
 if the meaning of the name had descended from his Franklin 
 origin, and the rough freeholder of Plantagenet times had 
 softened into the gentleman of our day. There was nothing 
 of the sternness of command, nor even of the firmness of 
 endurance which so greatly distinguished him. He appeared 
 to be neither very robust nor very hardy, but possessed of a 
 calm quietude of aspect and placid ease of demeanour, which 
 one could scarcely think adequate to the toils he went 
 through, the dangers he encountered, and the difficulties he 
 
SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 221 
 
 overcame. Yet was fortitude his special endowment : I do 
 not believe he knew what fear was. No perils appalled him. 
 He sought and met them throughout his life-career with 
 equal heart. His duty was before him, and his conduct to 
 the end was calmly heroic. 
 
 To sketch his life among the men I have known would 
 have been a sadly-pleasing task to me ; but I am saved the 
 office by a document, which I am sure will interest the 
 readers of " The Leisure Hour." It consists of the holo- 
 graph notes on a memoir published in " The Mirror," and 
 is so characteristic of the man, that I offer it verbatim from 
 his own handwriting, to the readers of my brief sketches, 
 which, I beg it always to be remembered, have no pretence 
 to be biographies, but simply, by the preservation of a few 
 traits within my own observation, to illustrate some striking 
 qualities in the individual. 
 
 MS. Memorandum from Sir John Franklin. 
 
 " No. 1.* Mr. Franklin was one of two midshipmen who 
 were appointed to attend Captain Flinders whenever he 
 made any excursions in boats, or visited the shore, for the 
 purposes of more closely examining the nature of the country, 
 and of taking angles for the continuance of his survey, and 
 thus was early instructed under that able navigator in the 
 duties required in voyages of discovery. 
 
 " No. 2. This bank was formed of the debris of the coral 
 reefs, without a blade of vegetation, and only about a quarter 
 of a mile in circumference. It was three hundred miles 
 distant from the nearest part of the coast of New Holland. 
 There were ninety-four persons in the whole on the bank. 
 (See an interesting account of the wreck, and our occupa- 
 tions, by Mr. Purden, the surgeon, which appeared in one 
 of the volumes of the ' Naval Register/) and also Flinders' 
 ' Voyage to Australia.' 
 
 * These numbers refer to points in the published memoir. 
 
222 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 " No. 3. Mr. Franklin went to Canton -with his com- 
 mander, Lieut. Fowler, in the Bolla, merchant-ship, and 
 from thence embarked on board the Earl Camden. The 
 following circumstance took place on their passage to Eng- 
 land. Mr. Franklin had charge of the signals in the action. 
 
 " No. 4. Mr. Franklin, having the charge of the signal 
 department on that occasion, by the express direction of his 
 captain, was, from his situation, stationed on the poop ; and, 
 from the circumstances of the Bellerophon being actually- 
 engaged yard-arm and yard-arm with the L'Aigle, a French 
 74, for near an hour and a half, was exposed, with his com- 
 panions, to the galling fire of musketry that was continuously 
 poured from the toj>s of the enemy upon the Bellerophon ; 
 and of forty companions stationed in that part at the com- 
 mencement of the action, only seven, of which number he 
 was one, escaped either death or wounds. I have mentioned 
 an action of coolness and intrepidity in one of Mr. Franklin's 
 companions, named Christopher Beaty, the senior yeoman 
 of the signals, and of an honourable forbearance on the part 
 of the enemy. The ship's ensigns having been twice shot 
 away and rehoisted, on their being brought down a third 
 time in the same way, Beaty exclaimed, ' Well, that's too 
 bad : the fellows will say we have struck 3' and, seizing a 
 Union Jack, he jumped up the mizzen-rigging, and stopped 
 the corners the whole breadth of the rigging, in the most 
 cool manner ; but, during this period, the men in the 
 enemy's top, who never before allowed a person to show 
 himself without firing at him, refrained altogether while 
 Beaty was employed in this gallant act, and stood looking, 
 and no doubt admiring his noble conduct. 
 
 " After the battle of Trafalgar, Mr. Franklin served in 
 the Bellerophon, in the Channel grand fleet, and the Roche- 
 fort squadron, under Admiral CornwalHs, Lord St. Vincent, 
 and Sir Richard Strachan. 
 
 " No. 5. The whole of this attack (Rochefort) deserves to 
 be more noticed than it has yet been, as it was one of the 
 
SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 223 
 
 most daring and peculiar boat services that occurred in the 
 war. Mr. Franklin was in the command of the Bellerojyhmis 
 boats, and was the first to board one of the schooners, 
 ■whose commander surrendered to him. 
 
 " No. 6. By the general officers, as well as the naval 
 commander-in-chief, he was mentioned in these official de- 
 spatches. Mr. Franklin was attached with a party of seamen 
 to that part of the expedition under Captain White Thorn - 
 hill, which succeeded in carrying the fort on the left bank 
 of the Mississippi. 
 
 " No. 7. Her first cruise afterwards was to convey H.R.H. 
 the Duchess d'Angouleme to France, on the restoration 
 of the Bourbons ; and in consequence Mr. Franklin has 
 since that time had the honour of being very graciously 
 received by Madame la Dauphine, at Paris. The Bedford, 
 while Mr. Franklin was in her, accompanied the late King 
 of Portugal to the Brazils, and the Bedford also had the 
 honour of being placed as one of the squadron under the 
 orders of H.R.H. the Duke of Clarence, when he escorted 
 the allied sovereigns to this country. 
 
 " No. 8. This appointment was given at the recommenda- 
 tion of the late Sir Joseph Banks, who was an early friend 
 
 and patron of Mr. F . This expedition can scarcely be 
 
 called collateral with the other ; for it had quite a different 
 and specific object, and entirely independent of that of 
 Cap tarn Ross. — See Introduction to Parry's ' Yoyage to the 
 North Pole/ relative to Franklin's proposition of that 
 service, in 1819. 
 
 "No. 9. This, in fact, was an important object of the 
 expedition, because, if the junction with Parry could have 
 been effected, it is evident that the continuity of the work 
 eastward, from the Copper-mine River to Repulse Bay, or 
 Melville Peninsula, might have been inferred, though not 
 actually traced ; and, at any rate, the opening to the Atlantic 
 would have been assumed. 
 
 " No. 10. It is not alone Arctic geography, which was a 
 
224 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 very important point for this expedition, but the amending 
 the very defective maps of our territories north of the Lake 
 Winnipeg, and the making collections of natural history. 
 
 "Honours Captain Franklin has received. 
 
 " In August, 1827, on his return from his second voyage, 
 the corporation of the city of New York did him the honour 
 of presenting to him the memoir published by a committee 
 of the common council at the celebration of the completion 
 of the New York canals, and the medal struck on that 
 occasion. A deputation of the corporation did him and 
 Dr. Richardson the honour of waiting on them to make 
 this presentation. The cover of the book bears this inscrip- 
 tion : — ' Presented, by the city of New York, to Captain 
 Franklin, R.N., Commander of the Land Arctic Expedi- 
 tion, 1827. ; 
 
 " In 1829, the Geographical Society of Paris did him the 
 honour of voting its gold medal, value twelve hundred francs, 
 to Captain F., for the discoveries and researches made in 
 his second voyage, and also made him a member of the 
 said society, which honour they likewise conferred on his 
 able coadjutor and friend, Dr. Richardson. 
 
 "April, 1829, his Majesty was pleased to confer upon 
 him the honour of knighthood, and in July, the University 
 of Oxford that of D.C.L., at the same time with his friend 
 Sir Edward Parry. 
 
 " Captain Franklin is a Fellow of the Royal and Geo- 
 logical Societies, Member of the Astronomical Society of 
 London, Honorary Member of the Wernerian Society, and 
 of the Philosophical Society of Bristol, and Corresponding 
 Member of the Geographical Society. 
 
 "Entered the Navy in October, 1800, was made Acting- 
 Lieutenant in 1807, and Lieutenant confirmed in February, 
 1808, Commander in February, 1821, and Post-Captain in 
 November, 1822." 
 
SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 225 
 
 Since this was written, a long interval lias elapsed, and 
 .Sir John Franklin's services and exploits have been too 
 great and too patent not to be familiar to the public. 
 Fourteen years old at the battle of Copenhagen, which 
 overthrew one of the most dangerous confederations that 
 ever threatened England's weal — the nephew of the scien- 
 tific and enterprising Flinders — a signal-middy at Trafalgar 
 — a partaker (commodore pro tern.) in Dance's celebrated 
 commercial belligerent engagement — a leader in the devoted 
 Arctic expeditions — such a man appeared to be born and 
 educated for fame, and he has not failed to leave an illus 
 trious name to his successors in blood — though that name 
 may be lost in female descent. I was intimate with him 
 at the time of his first marriage, and was well acquainted 
 with the accomplished lady. She was the daughter of Mr. 
 Porden, a distinguished architect, and distinguished herself 
 as a poet in the path of literature. In 1823 she was a 
 bride, and she died in less than a week after her husband 
 departed on his next expedition, 1825-6-7. 
 
 One daughter was the fruit of their brief union, who, 
 when grown to womanhood, brought her father and mother 
 both vividly to my recollection. 
 
 After his return from the voyage just noticed, Sir John 
 Franklin, in 1829, married a second time, Miss Grifim, 
 daughter of a gentleman well known in the City, and also in 
 literary circles, where his benevolence was freely exercised. 
 Her unwearied perseverance and devotion of herself and 
 fortune to ascertain the realities of his long doubtful and 
 lamented loss, will never be forgotten whilst the admiration 
 of virtuous emotions and noble conduct fills the bosom of the 
 British people. Previous to his last departure, Franklin 
 suffered from a severe cold, and looked ill and worn-out. 
 But his spirits were buoyant, and he hoped that every 
 ailment would cease when he was once afloat, and (laughing) 
 said there could be no colds among the Arctic icefields and 
 icebergs. In fact, his health was perfectly restored, and it 
 
226 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 was only when nature was exhausted by fatigue and priva- 
 tions that the gallant sufferer sunk, a little while before 
 his mourning associates succumbed to the same dreadful 
 destiny. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Singe writing the foregoing, my old compeer, Mr. John 
 Timbs, has enabled me to refer to " The Mirror " (No. 147, 
 June 25th, 1825), in which the Memoir, annotated for me 
 by Captain Franklin, appeared ; and has thus put it in my 
 power to make several points more clear than could be 
 gathered from the closely- written manuscript. 
 
 No. 1. Was in the Investiyntur, 1802-3, engaged in 
 hydrographical surveys on the coast of New Holland. 
 
 No. 2. When Captain Flinders, in the Porpoise, accom- 
 panied by the Cato, on their passage homewards, struck on 
 a coral reef on the coast of New South Wales, and nearly a 
 hundred men, with what they could save from the wreck, 
 remained on shore about two months before they were 
 relieved by a vessel from Port Jackson. 
 
 No. 3. The famous fight with Admiral Linois, where a 
 fleet of East-India ships and Bombay merchant ships beat off 
 a French line-of-battle ship, two heavy frigates, a sloop of 
 war, and a brig of eighteen guns. It was there Franklin 
 had charge of the signals. 
 
 No. 4. On his return to England he joined the Belle- 
 rophon, and shared in the glories of Trafalgar, where also he 
 had charge of the signals. 
 
 No. 5. Still in the Belleroplion. 
 
 No. 6. In the Bedford, under the gallant Sir Pulteney 
 Malcolm, during eight years on the Brazil and West-India 
 stations, in which he greatly distinguished himself, and was 
 promoted to be first lieutenant. 
 
SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 227 
 
 No. 7. Original information. 
 
 No. 8. Corrects the minor account that the contemporary 
 expedition of 1818, the Dorothea, Captain Buchan, and 
 Trent, Lieutenant Franklin, was collateral with that of the 
 Isabella, Captain John Ross, and Alexander, Lieutenant 
 Parry. 
 
 No. 9. Expedition in the Prince of Wales, 1819, and 
 No. 10, both relating to the efforts to lay down a fairly 
 accurate line of the Northern American coast. 
 
 These are dry matters ; but nothing that throws a light 
 upon the career of such a man as Franklin, and especially 
 when ascertained under his own hand, has appeared to me 
 to be undeserving of preservation. Again I would revert 
 to Miss Porden's poem, "The Arctic Expedition" (1818), 
 which had cheered on the voyage preceding, and I believe 
 led to her marriage with the intrepid navigator soon after 
 his return : — 
 
 " Sail, sail, adventurous barks ! go fearless forth, 
 Storm on his Glacier-seat, the misty North — 
 Give to mankind the inhospitable zone, 
 And Britain's trident plant in seas unknown. 
 Go! sure, wherever science fills the mind, 
 Or grief for man long severed from his kind, 
 That anxious natures watch the changing gales, 
 And prayers and blessings swell your flagging sails ! " 
 
 The allusion in these lines to the inhabitants of lost 
 Greenland, should any of the unfortunate colonists have 
 survived, excited a fine vein of compassion in the breast of 
 the fair writer, and she breathes an uncertain lament, 
 which touches the reader's heart, as a vague, half-prophetic 
 pictui'e of what was, in the time to come, destined to be 
 realized for those she loved. The apostrophe runs thus : — 
 
 " Oh ! has their sight 
 Been strained o'er glowing realms of dreary white, 
 While each clear iceberg, floating o'er the main, 
 Seemed a white sail, and opened hope again ; 
 
 n 2 
 
228 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Till, fancied outcasts, both of heaven and man, 
 Even to their hearts the piercing coldness ran ; 
 O'er blasted fields they rolled their stiffening eyes, 
 And sunk the victims of the unpitying skies." 
 
 How many brave efforts have been made to elucidate 
 every particular of the sad, sad tragedy, which was en- 
 veloped in the fate of our daring countrymen — far more 
 deeply interesting than the broader history of the lost 
 Greenland colony — I will not stop to enumerate. It is an 
 honour to humanity that France and America have sent 
 forth noble natures to meet as many dangers and hazard 
 their lives with equal fearlessness as the sons of Britain 
 themselves, in the hope of finding, and it might be of saving, 
 the gallant souls who perished in the last fatal enterprise ! 
 
 n^y2m^<^^ 
 
( 229 ) 
 
 JOHN GALT. 
 
 IT has been a very customary theme to lament the fate of 
 the actor, who, however richly gifted or widely popular, 
 is doomed to pass away from the stage of life, leaving only a 
 vague tradition and a shadowy name behind. The i-ame fate, 
 however, awaits the popular author, even though he has been 
 able to bequeath enduring proofs of his talents to posterity. 
 With but a few exceptions of world-wide renown, the most 
 successful authors achieve a fame hardly less ephemeral than 
 the actors who are forgotten with the fall of the curtain and 
 the extinction of the lights. The similitude is mortifying, 
 but true. The Dickenses and Thackerays of our day must 
 submit to the doom of oblivion, and . leaA^e but a name, like 
 the Richardsons and Fieldings of a past generation. New 
 literary idols rise up to be the admiration and wonder of the 
 multitude during their little hour. Sic transit gloria mundi ! 
 I was thrown into this train of thought by seeing in the 
 newspapers the name of Gait as one of the leading commis- 
 sioners sent from Canada to our Government to negotiate and 
 determine the great colonial confederation question. This, 
 I said, must be the son of my old and estimable friend John 
 Gait, the author of the "Ayrshire Legatees/' the "Annals 
 of the Parish," and a whole host of other productions of 
 striking character and merit. Why, even amid the pother 
 of periodical, and turmoil of railroad literature, should the 
 exceedingly clever volumes of Gait be so unaccountably ne- 
 glected, and his very name sound like that of a stranger in the 
 reading world 1 Local scenes and the portraiture of oddities, 
 
230 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 and also the use of the Scotch vernacular, may have had 
 some effect ; but what were and are wonderful attractions in 
 Scott can never be deemed blemishes sufficient to blot out 
 the racy humour in the life pictures of his compatriot. Some 
 of these scenes are worthy of standing by the side of a Wilkie 
 or a Faed, so true are they to provincial peculiarities, and so 
 faithful to national character. 
 
 But John Gait, fertile in authorship as he was, was not a 
 mere author, whose outline of life could be traced in his 
 writings. He was a man of great activity of mind, exten- 
 sive travel, and prolific enterprise. On the Continent he 
 saw much, and mixed in intercourse with the set of which 
 Lord Byron was the Corypheus, and told us some particulars 
 of their doings. But America was the grand field for his 
 exertion. His splendid project for the allocation of lands 
 and improvement of Upper Canada evinced the sagacity and 
 comprehensiveness of a constructive and legislative faculty 
 which is rarely met with even among the ablest and most 
 experienced statesmen. The plans were adopted by powerful 
 moneyed interests at home, and the originator was deputed 
 to proceed to the colony and superintend the carrying of his 
 imperial design into effect. How seldom does the sower 
 reap the harvest of his inventions or far-sighted measures 
 which enrich the world and tend to promote the welfare of 
 mankind ! Gait was no exception to the too common rule. 
 A cabal was formed against him, and while he was devotedly 
 engaged in shaping these enormous territories into manage- 
 able community and order, a sordid conspiracy drove him 
 from his arduous post, and returned him home an im- 
 poverished adventurer ! He had made his own masters, 
 and, like most others in similar circumstances, he met with 
 his reward in ingratitude and wrong, probably with 'the 
 addition of censure ! But there lies the wide district, the 
 province, or the territory of Gait ; a country taken from the 
 wilderness, perhaps to be the seat of empire within the period 
 of human beings now alive ; at all events, it may perpetuate 
 
JOHN GALT. 231 
 
 the name of one to whom our Northern America in less 
 prosperous or promising days owed much. 
 
 Gait, with all his energy, came home utterly disappointed 
 and almost broken-hearted. He straggled with his hard 
 fate, and bore it manfully. It was a grievous sight to see 
 the originator of so great a national undertaking in a condition 
 to be arrested for a school bill. This happened to Gait, and 
 from a quarter which could hardly be supposed capable of the 
 act. I was on intimate relations with both parties, and had 
 a painful quarrel on this occasion ; but it terminated amic- 
 ably : the scandal of the arrest was partly explained away 
 and the proceeding cancelled. A disavowal mitigated the 
 reproach, and all matters were reconciled more harmoniously 
 than could have been anticipated when the mine exploded. 
 The law has been abrogated since those days, when any one 
 indebted for a few pounds was liable to be taken without 
 warning, if caprice, anger, or cupidity prompted the act ; and 
 the prisons and sponging-houses were perpetually crowded by 
 debtors getting through with their scath and scorn, or pro- 
 bably discredited and ruined by the exposure. 
 
 But the too common literary destiny of fame without 
 material reward partially pursued him to the last, 1839, his 
 sixtieth year, when, worn out, the strong man yielded his 
 willing spirit to the Almighty Power that gave it. His was 
 no ordinary mind, and it was lodged in a physical frame of 
 commanding proportions. He was above six feet two inches 
 in height, and lithe and muscular in action. The use of 
 spectacles betrayed one imperfection : tall as he was, he could 
 not see far ; and perhaps a similar deficiency of mental vision 
 prevented his looking clearly enough into the designs of those 
 with whom he became connected in his great Canadian con- 
 cern. His idiosyncrasy, however, offered a still greater 
 problem for study. Gait was wise as a sage, and simple as a 
 child : he was equally shrewd and credulous. He was as 
 eminently practical as he was fancifully imaginative. His 
 sound, every-day common sense was so variegated with a 
 
232 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 mystic element, that, upon the whole, it would be difficult, if 
 not impossible, to pronounce whether he had been born to be 
 a plodder or a poet. And this abstract view may explain in 
 some measure how the same author could produce the^ ac- 
 curate descriptions of Scottish low and middle life, over- 
 flowing with a peculiar quaint and telling humour, and many 
 of the other works which prove the large accompaniment of 
 fine taste, poetic feeling, and a capacity to adorn nearly every 
 branch of sterling literature. 
 
 Only a few years before his death he published a very 
 small volume of poems, involving an appeal to the kindly 
 and considerate feeling of tlie public towards a man bowed 
 down by ill health and harassed by wasting cares, in spite 
 of a constant, industrious, and honourable career, which 
 ought never to have terminated in that deplorable condition : 
 when, in "reverie" — 
 
 " One by one the lights were qnenched, 
 
 And ancient night whs come; 
 Lone silence settled over all, 
 
 And sound itself grew dumb, 
 The glimmering phantoms of the past 
 
 Seemed things that were to be ; 
 But, like the stars, my thoughts went out, 
 
 And light was gloom to me. 
 
 The steadfast earth beneath my tread 
 Dissolving " 
 
 It was hoped at the time I have alluded to that a col- 
 lected edition, or rather a selection from the writer's 
 voluminous and very miscellaneous works, might be profit- 
 ably brought out \ but the proposition fell to the ground : 
 it was about the time of the Reform agitation, and not 
 favourable to literary projects. But I feel assured that, if 
 renewed and judiciously carried into execution, the plan 
 might now be adopted with sufficient advantage to the 
 publisher, and gratification to every class of readers. There 
 
JOHN GALT. 233 
 
 are in all, as far as I can remember, above sixty works to 
 choose from (several in three volumes), ranging from the 
 epic, through history — drama, farcical, comic, and tragic — 
 biography (such as the "Life of West"), novel, travel, and 
 pamphlet ; much, indeed, not calling for revival, but also 
 much which should not be let die. His autobiography might 
 pioneer the way ; and Gait, like his national contemporaries 
 Wilson, Lockhart, and others, renew his term to entertain 
 and delight the public. 
 
 The editorship of " The Courier " for a short period 
 furnished uncongenial employment for his talents, and a 
 trammelled toil unsuited to his taste and habits. But his 
 later years in London, before he retired to court the peaceful 
 termination of his business struggles and literary labours fn 
 his native land, were years of sore affliction, which he bore 
 with manly firmness and most exemplary patience. For a 
 while he occupied a pretty little cottage at Old Brompton, 
 all the vestiges of which and its rural surroundings are now 
 utterly obliterated by a city of streets, squares, and crescents, 
 as well as the vacant site and remains of the ephemeral 
 National Exhibition Palace : there, in Barn's Cottage, I often 
 saw him and grieved at his unfortunate condition. He had 
 been struck with paralysis, and I have never witnessed nor 
 heard of any human being surviving so many severe and 
 quickly repeated shocks. I believe his vigorous constitution 
 withstood more than ten or eleven attacks, which, sadly as 
 they shattered his bodily strength, seemed to waste their vio- 
 lence in vain upon his philosophic mind. During the intervals 
 he was calm, and resigned himself with Christian humility to 
 his melancholy lot. Even then, as at all times, he displayed 
 wonderful equanimity of temper. He ceased not to be the 
 same John Gait he had always been. Characteristically 
 Scotch in speech and manners, his Doric accents appeared, 
 from their simplicity, to stamp his instructive observations 
 upon men and things, gathered from many and various 
 sources, with additional effect. His conversation was 
 
234 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 always exceedingly pleasing, and chiefly raised above the 
 familiar tone by a keen relish for humour, whether en- 
 countered or dispensed. To have done and experienced so 
 much throughout an active, hard-working life of nearly forty 
 years, it was charming to meet with a man so entirely modest, 
 unaffected, and not in the least opinionated. To boast and 
 complaint he was equally a stranger ; and I remember none, 
 in the rather wide circle that knew Gait, who did not 
 regard him with admiration as an author and cordial esteem 
 as a man. The attachment of his friends was warmer; 
 and well did he deserve the consideration in which he 
 was held by critical judgment as respected his writings, 
 and the personal attachment which sprang from all his 
 social relations. Richly gifted by nature, honest, diligent, 
 and persevering, a course of worldly success and prosperity 
 might have been expected. It was ordered otherwise ; and, 
 though his life was in many ways one of honour and useful- 
 ness, it is with a feeling of regretful sadness that I review 
 the career and destiny of the ill-requited and defeated 
 John Gait. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 In some of its peculiar features the talent of Gait bore 
 great resemblance to similar component attributes in the 
 genius of Dickens. In truth, he was, on these points, the 
 Scottish Dickens. For giving intense individuality to an 
 oddity — for requiring to see, at least, enough for the in- 
 spiration to expatiate upon in description — for some real or 
 living material to work from — for the touches of pathos in 
 the midst of qtiaint or comic delineations — for the briefest 
 thoughts or words, which are as the breath of life to a book 
 and give it character and emphasis ; there is an extra- 
 ordinary likeness between these two popular authors. 
 
JOHN GALT. 2?5 
 
 " Laurie Todd " is a striking example of Gait's DicJcensean 
 qualities and powers. The Magic of Imagination and 
 Creativeness he did not possess ; nor, with all his extra- 
 ordinary versatility and comprehensive range, can I recognise 
 it, at any rate in its highest tone, among his otherwise rich 
 treasures, nor even among the yet richer and greater gifts 
 of the admirable painter of men and manners with whom I 
 have, within certain special limits, compared him. 
 
 During the years 1830-34, Gait, in London, was busy 
 with his pen, and my relations with him were friendly and 
 intimate, only interrupted by the assaults of the malady 
 which in a very few years struck the strong man down. 
 And how philosophically did he submit to these dread 
 warnings. He kept working away as ill health and reduced 
 energies made possible ; and "Laurie Todd," " Southenan," 
 " Bogle Corbet," " Stories of the Study," " Dramas in the 
 National Theatre," " Life," and " Miscellanies," yielded as 
 wonderful a wealth of varied productiveness as if the elasticity 
 of youth and the prime of manhood still united their powers 
 unabated, amid the noble struggles of the persevering 
 sufferer. A little incident related in his " Life " will 
 illustrate this finely characteristic condition. Being advised 
 by his medical friends to take an excursion into the country 
 for a change of air, he walked to town with his son with 
 the intention of going by the Windsor stage-coach. But it 
 had departed ; and the next best thing that occurred to him 
 was to enter the next conveyance, about to start, and trust 
 his destination to its whereabouts ; and so he was whirled 
 into Kent and safely deposited at Maidstone, which 
 answered all purposes quite as efficaciously as royal Windsor 
 could have done. And I record this little proof of his placid 
 resignation to the " sore affliction " he so calmly bore, as it 
 also supplies a paternal mention of his son, who, as a legis- 
 lator and statesman, has raised himself so high in the 
 estimation of England and her most valuable colony — 
 Canada. At Maidstone " the boy " displayed his literary 
 
236 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 predilections, and cheered his father with the prophetic 
 glimpse of a fortunate and successful career ; — it is curious 
 to reflect upon the scene in the little parlour of the inn at 
 Maidstone. I am also reminded with much satisfaction, 
 that in the work alluded to the author speaks complimen- 
 tarily and kindly of myself, as judging of his works in a 
 manner "more gratifying to an author than ardent en- 
 comiums." 
 
 About this time Gait announced the editing of a post- 
 humous volume by Andrew Picken, a clever and popular 
 novelist, but I do not know what became of it ; perhaps his 
 ardour for publishing was somewhat repressed, pro tern., by 
 a biting review in the Quarterly on his tragedy of " Majolo," 
 I think (on which he rather prided himself), which he attri- 
 buted to J. Wilson Croker ; yet he could extract a hearty 
 laugh out of his position. The morning after the review 
 appeared, a foreign friend came in hot haste to congratulate 
 him on the lofty honours paid to his muse ! He was even 
 hailed as "another Shakespeare" ! ! The ingenious foreigner 
 took it a pied de la lettre, and was not aware that it was 
 mystical irony ! 
 
 John Gait was a man every way most worthy of every 
 good man's affection and esteem. I cannot conclude better 
 than by copying a stanza from a poem which was published 
 when all friendly wishes were (even if like mine, now impos- 
 sible), at all events, too late — too late ! 
 
 " ! may the coming season give 
 To Gait forgetfulness of pain ; 
 May he, for years, in comfort live, 
 And then — begin his life again." 
 
 
 
( 237 ) 
 
 WILLIAM GIFFOKD. 
 
 WILLIAM GIFFORD, bom of parents in very lowly 
 condition, in a small provincial town, was left an 
 orphan. What desolateness is in that word — an orphan ! 
 but, in this instance, 
 
 " Strong as necessity he starts away," 
 
 being shipped in the coasting service, to be out of the silent 
 and helpless appeal for cares, and sympathies, and succours — 
 a sea-boy " on the high and giddy mast." Anything for 
 daily bread to the poor little lad, whom his parents (petty 
 shopkeepers, living as they could from day to day) had left 
 at twelve years of age, utterly unprovided for, and hardly 
 acquainted with the mere rudiments of humble education. 
 The sea was a sad nurse for his delicate frame, and he was 
 forced to relinquish this wretched occupation. Again thrown 
 upon the hard world, he was bound apprentice to a shoe- 
 maker; and associated and fared with the humblest rank. 
 To his twentieth year he remained in the circumscribed 
 place of his nativity, inferior even there to most of his con- 
 temporaries, whose means enabled them to enjoy a moderate 
 share of schooling. But there was born with him the spark 
 of intellectual power, which chill poverty could not extin- 
 guish, and which only needed the lightest fanning of a 
 breath to wake into flame, and the aid of a helping hand to 
 kindle into a fire, which should illuminate the present, and 
 live in future times. That he did not lisp in numbers he 
 
238 
 
 MEN" I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 has told us in his preface to " Juvenal ;" but he seems to 
 have stammered in them (as the "old cobbler who sat in his 
 stall"), and these rude effusions attracted, at least, the 
 attention and praise of his companions, to whom he was 
 called upon to repeat them — not having paper whereon to 
 write, and (as he insinuates) not being very competent to 
 perform the scriptorial office if he had. 
 
 When in his twentieth year, Mr. William Cookesley, 
 a surgeon in Ashburton, was struck by the talent evinced 
 in some of the "attempts at rhyme" which reached his 
 notice • and, having circulated them in this superior circle, 
 got up a subscription to purchase the remaining term of his 
 indentures, and enable him to "improve himself in English 
 and grammar." The spark was now fairly lighted to the 
 open air, and the friends of the laughingly called "Free- 
 boot-ev to the Muses" sent him to Oxford, where he speedily 
 and impressively distinguished himself among the foremost 
 of its most assiduous aud successful alumni. Having 
 thereby recommended himself to the attention of Lord 
 Grosvenor, he was selected to accompany his son, Lord 
 Belgrave, on his travels over the Continent, during which 
 he stored his capacious mind with information of vast use 
 to him in all his after life. 
 
 On his return, he devoted himself to literature, and 
 settled in London, where very few literary careers were 
 ever so unclouded. And he deserved all his reward. I 
 discuss not opinions, but I speak of a man of extraordinary 
 natural talents and wonderfully cultivated ability, fixedly 
 taking his line, and earnestly pursuing the course he deemed 
 right in criticism, politics, and morals. Never was public 
 taste at a lower ebb than when his biting imitation of the 
 satire of Persius, under the title of the " Baviad," demo- 
 lished the fantastical Delia Cruscan school, the silliest 
 successor of the preceding pastoral inanity of fashionable 
 writers ; nor when the " Maviad" exercised like justice 
 upon the degradation of the drama, without even a pretence 
 
WILLIAM GIFFORD. 239 
 
 " to hold the mirror up to nature, to show virtue her own 
 feature, and scorn her own image." 
 
 The horrors of the French revolution had filled millions 
 with dread, and Gifford, in the brilliant, short-lived " Anti- 
 Jacobin," as afterwards in the more stable " Quarterly 
 Review," devoted all his energies to combat the principles 
 which he believed to be vicious and dangerous. His share 
 in stemming the torrent of anarchy and infidelity had 
 immense influence on the age, and the cause he espoused 
 never had a stouter or more effective champion. He was 
 consequently exposed to severe censure from those who 
 differed from him in politics, and accused of every error 
 and even crime, except inconsistency. He was a rich 
 scholar, and despised charlatanry ; a conservative, and feared 
 change ; a virtuous man, and detested flagrant vice ; a man 
 who abhorred impiety, and energetically and conscientiously 
 acted up to the best of his belief, under the ensign, " Dieu 
 defend le droit." 
 
 "With regard to William Gifford as an author, posterity 
 will speak when studying his vigorous translation of 
 "Juvenal," his editions of Massinger, Ben Jonson, and 
 other old dramatists, displaying great literary sagacity and 
 acumen. But his position of influence in his own day was 
 the editorship of the " Quarterly Review," where, fighting 
 courageously for his side, in times [of fierce party politics, 
 he raised against himself a host of enemies. Yet withal 
 was William Gifford a gentle creature. When not impelled 
 by what he felt to be an obligation of duty, human or 
 divine, his heart was filled with kindness for the whole 
 world ; he was compassionate to the poor, liberal towards 
 his brethren of the pen, blameless in every relation of 
 domestic and social life ; his information vast, his manners 
 most simple, his conversation most instructive. He might, 
 indeed, be compared to a fine river, flowing smoothly 
 through delightful scenery, till some gross obstruction was 
 interposed to its course, when it would boil off furiously in 
 
240 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 whirlpools and overwhelming floods, crushing and demolish- 
 ing all in its way, — and then regaining its wonted channel 
 and cherished banks in tranquil order and peace. Such 
 was the difference between the private man and the public 
 writer. 
 
 Tried by the strictest rules, the just and candid among 
 parties most adverse to him must allow that his critical 
 writings were addressed to the correction of bad taste, or 
 what, in his judgment, he esteemed to be pernicious doc- 
 trines, hostile to national safety and public morality, and 
 that he never wrote a line derelict of honest purpose, 
 patriotism, virtue, and Christianity. Unquestionably there 
 was often little of suavity in his strictures ; but he was one 
 who thought that everything valuable to mankind was at 
 stake, and he ought not to qualify the rebuke which might 
 alleviate the calamity if it could not avert it. Always of a 
 delicate constitution and a slender person, he yet never re- 
 laxed in his literary labours, and thus made his living 
 reputation and established his lasting fame. His intellect 
 had room and verge enough in his massive head ; and 
 though by many he was thought " the best-natured man 
 with the worst-natured Muse," I, who knew him well, can 
 aver that his heart was humane and his soul forgiving. 
 The lesson of his life lies chiefly in this, that with perse- 
 vering industry, under difficulties apparently insurmount- 
 able, he richly endowed a mind by nature capacious ; and 
 having improved to the utmost the intellectual talents with 
 which he was gifted, he used them conscientiously in the 
 service of his country and mankind. 
 
 ADDENDA 
 
 Respecting Gifford in his very early and obscure period, 
 I may be pardoned for repeating a few particulars. His first 
 
WILLIAM GIFFORD. 241 
 
 attempt at verse was in competition with an acquaintance, 
 who had composed something he called poetry on the subject 
 of a Lion, undertaken to be painted for the sign of an ale- 
 house, but which, in the unfortunate artist's hands, turned 
 out to be a Dog. Gifford entered the lists, and emerged 
 victor from the contest, agreeably to the unanimous voice 
 of his shop-mates. Thus encouraged he went on briskly 
 (I was about to say writing, but I must restrict the phrase 
 to) rhyming and reciting ; till Mr. Cookesley's attention 
 was attracted, and he was removed from his stool, — rather 
 pushed off, by his master, who had threatened him with 
 vengeance for "inadvertently hitching the name of one of 
 his customers into a rhyme." 
 
 It has been stated that at the time of which I am 
 speaking, Gifford and his comrades were used to act plays, 
 to which the public were admitted gratis. I deem it most 
 probable that, if any such game was a-foot, the aspiring 
 poet would be sure to be in it, if not as an actor, as an 
 author, and most likely as both. I have met with small 
 pieces of poetry ascribed to him in periodical publications — 
 " Lines to Tufts of Early Violets," or " On Young Ladies' 
 Graves," but they do not seem germane to his genius ; and 
 when we find, besides, that they are of the clearest tint 
 of Delia Crusca, fit only for his Dunciad, I think we may 
 dismiss them from our minds as his doing, and believe that 
 he never was inspired to sing — 
 
 " Oh ! lay me where my Rosa lies, 
 
 And Love shall o'er the moss -crowned bed, 
 "When dew-drops leave the weeping skies, 
 His tenderest tears of pity shed." 
 
 Great men sometimes entertain little fancies. Gifford 
 was much disj^leased to be addressed with the initial letter 
 of his name pronounced soft, Jifford — he thought it hard — 
 and he still more disliked being confounded with Mr. John 
 Gifford, author of the " Life of William Pitt," and other 
 
 B 
 
242 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 considerable works. This gentleman had voluntarily 
 changed his name from Green, after leaving Oxford ; — and 
 William, for some reason or other, did not approve of the 
 assumption of his lowly Ashburton family appellation. 
 Although his political adversaries might puzzle — 
 
 " Quid sentire putas omnes, Calvine, recenti 
 De scelere ; " 
 
 All the world confessed that he was a most able critic. 
 Like the Master Singer of the old German Poetical 
 Brotherhood, he forbade "the use of words wherein no 
 meaning was to be discovered," or of compounded " sen- 
 tences which nobody could understand •" and dismissed the 
 offenders summarily from their functions ; but on the whole 
 he was liberal as he was just, and never laid down false 
 grounds for his condemnation. 
 
 I was much with him, during a short time he passed at 
 Poamsgate, previous to his death in 1826 ; and I only wish 
 I could convey even a faint idea of the cheerful serenity 
 and Christian fortitude with which he awaited the appointed 
 hour. 
 
243 
 
 HENRY HALLAM. 
 
 THERE lias lately departed from among us, at a ripe old 
 age, one of the distinguished men I have seen and con- 
 versed with. The grave has been too recently closed upon 
 his mortal remains to admit of the propriety of painting a 
 full-length picture ; but a few characteristic strokes of the 
 pencil may not be unacceptable. Of good family and inde- 
 pendent fortune, Henry Hallam received the liberal educa- 
 tion of an English gentleman, and was of a disposition to 
 turn it to a liberal use. Cultivating the excellent talent 
 with which he was endowed, and joining diligent research 
 and patient industry to acute discrimination and cool judg- 
 ment, he devoted himself (instead of indulgence in a life of 
 unprofitable ease) to the critical examination of obscure and 
 complex, but exceedingly important, periods of his country's 
 history. 
 
 If he had a bias in favour of particular theories or political 
 opinions, it was honestly sacrificed on the altar of impar- 
 tiality, and the desire to be fair and just in every statement 
 he sanctioned with his authority. I believe that no his- 
 torian ever wrote with a more conscientious determination 
 to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
 truth. What errors or bias, therefore, there may be de- 
 tected in his writings, must in candour be attributed to the 
 imperfect information or mistaken judgment, not to the will 
 of the author. My pursuits having thrown me much into 
 intercourse with him, where the appreciation of literary 
 merits and the success of literary hopes depended mainly 
 R 2 
 
244 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 upon his verdict, it was a great pleasure to witness a man 
 so free from jealousies, so superior to all egotism or ideas of 
 rivalry, so kindly disposed towards candidates ; always, 
 without an exception, putting the most favourable construc- 
 tion upon pretensions, bestowing the warmest praise upon 
 desert, and awarding the utmost encouragement to his 
 fellow-labourers in the too often ungrateful field. 
 
 Philosophic calm, humane amiability, truth, and a genial 
 sense of pure intellectual enjoyment, were the most obvious? 
 elements of his estimable character. 
 
 As these sketches may in some measure be considered 
 moral lessons, as far as may be learnt from individual ex- 
 ample and traits of social communion, which give identity 
 to likeness, I will venture to illustrate and conclude this 
 brief notice by the description of a scene which made a very 
 vivid impression upon my mind. His family afflictions have 
 been recorded by the press, and deplored in poetry ; but if 
 he felt them as a man, he also bore them like a man and a 
 Christian. He gratefully adored the Providence that gave ; 
 he meekly bowed his head to the decree that took away. 
 At his domestic board, where the feast of reason chastened 
 lower appetites and charmed common things into refined 
 gratifications, once, when I was present, there sat on his 
 right hand one of our most eminent judges of the land, who 
 had taken the highest university honours of his day, and on 
 the left a nobleman of distinguished taste as a patron of the 
 arts. On a side-table were placed the precious symbols of 
 like honours and other literary prizes, which had marked 
 the bright career of a beloved offspring — In memoriam of all 
 that could cherish a father's joy, and, sadly inverting the 
 order of nature, leave him to mourn the desolation of earthly 
 hopes. Resignation to the will of God had succeeded the 
 poignancy of human grief, and the promise of a hereafter 
 invested the present with a serenity, not forbidding atten- 
 tion to those familiar duties and amenities which pertained 
 to the occasion. The conversation, it may be believed, was 
 
HENEY HALLAM. 245 
 
 intellectual, pleasing, and instructive, and so the day was 
 wisely and profitably spent. It was my lot to be conveyed 
 homeward in the carriage of the estimable judge alluded 
 to, who was at the time mourning, as I also was, the 
 loss of his first-born, and who, after a long silence, nearly 
 thus addressed me :— " How touching a lesson of humble 
 submission to the inscrutable dispensations of Providence 
 have we had this day ! It is indeed a sin to repine as if 
 parted for ever from our hearts' affections. I ought not 
 to indulge in my sorrowing. Oh, happy is it for those 
 who are crushed into the very depths of human affliction, to 
 feel the Christian's hope of another and a better world ! 
 What else could sustain the bereaved fathers whom we sat 
 beside just now 1 — the one had reached the peerage with an 
 only son, worthy to inherit the noblest title ; the other had 
 climbed to the temple of fame, with a progeny all that such 
 a parent could desire ; both are alone, no son of theirs 
 succeeding, but both are resigned to the decrees of the 
 Almighty" — Lord Colburne and Henry Hallam. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Brief as this notice is, I have little to add to it. The placid 
 and even tenor of Hallam's life can afford biography very 
 little to say, unless it expatiates on his writings. The 
 judge to whom I have alluded in my anecdote, was Sir 
 Frederick Pollock, the lord chief baron, — who, I thank 
 Heaven, has lived to these years with undimmed intellect 
 to fulfil his important functions with the elasticity of youth, 
 and perpetuate a friendship I have enjoyed for nearly three 
 quarters of a century. The poetic mourner whose exquisite 
 lament I principally had in memoriam, I need hardly say 
 
246 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 "was the Poet Laureate, — who, in this effusion and the lines 
 on the death of the Prince Consort, had done (in my 
 lmmble opinion) as much to concentrate a poet's fume, as 
 in the mass of his admirable productions. 
 
 Mr. Hallam received one of the George IV. gold medals 
 awarded by the Royal Society of Literature, and finally 
 became a prominent member of its council, and president. 
 I have reason to believe that he declined heraldic honours 
 offered him by the Crown, at all periods of his life, and not 
 when, struck by family bereavements, they must have lost 
 any value they could ever have possessed. A statue of him 
 by Mr. Theed was sculptured for St. Paul's Cathedral, and 
 a good copy was exhibited at the last National Exhibition, 
 though I was not altogether satisfied with the likeness, 
 nor thought the accessories well chosen and happy ; for a 
 standing figure, nevertheless, it has the great merit of sim- 
 plicity. 
 
 Though habitually rather grave, the pleasant smile 
 best became his features, and I do not think he was often 
 guilty of audible laughter. The only occasion on which I 
 can remember his giving way to so undignified a propensity 
 was on a visit of the British Association to Lord Dudley's 
 great works at Dudley ;* from which a section of some score 
 of members had to return, on a wretchedly wet night, in the 
 submarine hold of a huge barge, illumined by half a dozen 
 " tallows," to their long exj>ectant lodgings. To beguile the 
 time, a mock meeting of association was got up ; and so ex- 
 ceedingly humorous was the discussion, that the gravity of 
 Hallam, who took an amusing part in it, was fairly over- 
 come ; and he joined in the loud chorus of cachinnation 
 extorted from the audience by the diversion of the hour. 
 He generally enjoyed these annual parliaments of science, — 
 and enjoyed them much ; and it was truly a treat to see the 
 philosophic historian quite at home in all sorts of recreative 
 
 * See Edward Forbes, p. 217. 
 
HENRY HALLAM. 
 
 247 
 
 excursions, or, especially, trudging in the train of a geolo- 
 gical exploration with a satchel and hammer, and in a work- 
 man-like costume, as if he had been a Sedgwick, Buckland, 
 or Murchison. He might almost have been a Red Lion. 
 
 His name ranks high in English literature, — among the 
 foremost of the age ! 
 
( 248 ) 
 
 JAMES HOGG, 
 
 THE ETTEICK SHEPHERD. 
 
 ON the 25th of January, in the humblest rank of life, a 
 poet was born in a wild rural region of Scotland. 
 " Oh !" exclaims my reader, leaping at the conclusion, " we 
 know all about the birth of Burns, and the celebrity of this 
 date." Siste, stop, my friend, it is otherwise a memorable 
 day (as every day is, if we inquire sufficiently). For did not 
 Jenner, the great benefactor of mankind, whose statue has 
 lately been erected at Charing Cross, die — and was not the 
 Princess Royal, an interesting object of England's sym- 
 pathies, married on the same 25 th of January 1 But it is 
 neither to these particular emergencies so redolent of births, 
 marriages, or deaths, nor to the Ayrshire ploughman, nor to 
 the discoverer of vaccination, nor to the interesting scion of 
 the royal race, that my notice refers, but to a remarkable 
 native genius, whose name will last as long as the noblest 
 or most famous. 
 
 James Hogg was a common herd-boy, who tended sheep 
 on the pastoral hills and valleys of a district watered by 
 lovely streams and resonant of ancient song. The occupa- 
 tion of a shepherd has often been propitious to the develop- 
 ment of superior natural faculties. Its very monotony 
 engenders thought fulness. Its constant observation of the 
 phenomena of heaven and earth impresses the mind at once 
 with the attributes of intelligence, reflectiveness, and vene- 
 ration. Hence so many philosophers, men of science, poets, 
 
JAMES HOGG, THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. 249 
 
 and persons eminent in other useful and elevated pursuits, 
 have sprung from the soil on which their only care was to 
 watch the pasturage of the silly sheep. On the very spot 
 of which I have been speaking, a learned pundit, wandering 
 without his timepiece, asked a ragged urchin of ten years 
 old what o'clock he thought it might be 1 " What o'clock !'' 
 replied the bairn, with a stare of surprise, " dinna ye see 
 the sun yonder? it is just half past three o'clock." But, to 
 return to our herd. He had a few months' schooling, little 
 more than a, b, c, and grew up, except in so far as depended 
 on himself, rude and uncultivated ; rude, not in the sense of 
 coarse or vulgar, which pertains to less-favoured natures, but 
 homely and without the polish which is acquired by inter- 
 course with educated society. And the spirit of song was 
 upon him. He made music to the streams, which answered 
 him in music ; and love tuned his reed to the utterance of 
 truthful pathos and hymns consecrated to the simple 
 beauties of nature, unsurpassed by Grecian idyl or the 
 brightest gems that ever emanated from exquisite art. 
 
 An agricultural prize for an essay on sheep, and the 
 success of a volume of ballads, attracted attention and gave 
 him the start into higher life. The shepherd transmigrated 
 into a farmer and an author. The country and the capital 
 divided his time, not perhaps to the profit of the farm, or 
 the substantial happiness of its master. The farm was, 
 nevertheless, a great fact. If literary production did not 
 bring much remuneration — and the " wearifu' siller was 
 unco scarce," even for the payment of rent — there was a 
 comfortable plenitude in the land, which afforded a rough 
 living in the worst of times. A boat, torch, and lister 
 (trident spear) on any dark night, furnished hilarious sport 
 and luxurious salmon. Unadulterated bread from the barn, 
 beer from the brewhouse, beef from the byre (a whole mart), 
 juicy mutton from the brae, and game from field, moor, 
 lough and heath, never lacked; and thus, though there 
 might be poverty in the purse, and a lamentable absence of 
 
250 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the precious metals, the poet had it in his power to enjoy a 
 primitive abundance when otherwise cramped and jjinched 
 the most. Meanwhile, fame crowned his brow with laurels, 
 and he was acce]}ted among the bards of his age and 
 country. 
 
 He was manly in appearance, and in character a singular 
 welding together of apt shrewdness and childish simplicity, 
 of sound common sense and poetic imagination. The simple 
 and the imaginative predominating, rendered him the less 
 fit to contend victoriously with the busy business world ; 
 and so he passed on, struggling and dreaming, depressed by 
 private circumstances and elated by popular applause. He 
 possessed not the wisdom of the economist nor the prudence 
 of the provident : let us regret for the man, and do honour 
 to the minstrel ! In the latter period of his life, when 
 brought to mix with the most refined circles of society of 
 London for a brief season, his ready adaptation of his 
 manners to the company was absolutely marvellous. Never 
 forgetting, and never obtruding himself when urged to a 
 display of his talents, he so acquitted himself as to become 
 an object of genuine admiration and interest to all who had 
 the pleasure to witness these coruscations of genius. His 
 load was consequently lightened by such friendly services as 
 delicacy could render ; but with all, he could only manage 
 to live from day to day, and die poor. 
 
 His prose writings were much inferior to his poetry ; and 
 it is woi'thy of note that he seemed to be unconscious of the 
 surpassing beauties of the most delicious of his pastoral 
 descriptions and imagery. I remember, when I once 
 happened to comment in enthusiastic terms upon some 
 verses which had struck me as being most admirable of their 
 kind, the honest shepherd rejoined : " Surely ye're daft; it's 
 only joost true about the wee burdies, and the cows at e'en, 
 and the wild flowers, and the sunset and clouds, and things, 
 and the feelings they cre-at. A' (I) canna fathom what 
 ye're making a' this fuss about. Its joost a plain description 
 
JAMES HOGG, THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. 251 
 
 of what everybody can see : there's nae grand poetry in it." 
 Such was the opinion of some of the sweetest and most 
 natural compositions in the Scottish Doric, entertained 
 and expressed by their author, James Hogg, the Ettrick 
 Shepherd. 
 
 At an entertainment given (during the London visit) by 
 Macleod of Macleod, Hogg being called on to sing, chanted 
 one of his own Jacobite songs in his own genuine style ; but 
 a neighbour insidiously reminded him that the Duke of 
 Argyll (the traditionary chief of the Scottish Whigs) was 
 at the table : the shepherd was not taken aback, and burst 
 out, " Oh, yer Grace, never mind noo, I will give you 
 another •" and he sang " Donald McGillivray," in a manner 
 which extorted shouts of laughter such as is rarely heard 
 in circles of the kind. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 A literary man is connected with all the world. He 
 addresses himself to all mankind as friends, and he hopes 
 they will receive him with fellow-creature sympathies. James 
 Hogg believed in this creed, and though not so much mis- 
 taken, as too many of his brethren of the pen have found 
 themselves, did not get quite through life as if he had been 
 born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Poor boy he supped 
 his^" porridge " with a horn one, and from that, raised him- 
 self by his genius sometimes to dine off plate. 
 
 His visit to London afforded several favourable oppor- 
 tunities for the latter, besides that at Mr. Macleod's, where 
 he not only astonished the Duke of Argyll, but made the 
 post-prandial so agreeable, that the famous whipper-in 
 " Billy Holmes," could hardly get away half a dozen 
 fascinated Scottish members near twelve o'clock, and 
 
252 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 crowded into a hackney coach, for an important division in 
 the House of Commons. It had almost achieved a parallel 
 to "Michael's Dinner." But wheresoever I accompanied the 
 Shepherd, it was the same. At the true Amphitryon, Sir 
 George Warrender's (facetiously called Sir George Proven- 
 der, in compliment to his admirable cuisine), he seduced a 
 party not of Scotchmen only, but of Irish and English, to 
 forsake their host's superb claret, and go in for the whisky 
 toddy scientifically concocted by the most " skilled " of 
 brewers ! We went from this symposium to an evening 
 party, and there the Shepherd was in his glory, crushed 
 within a circle of fine women, like an Apollo, he sang song 
 after song to their intense delight, and was in fact as great 
 as Moore, or more. Here he happened to meet, and was 
 delighted with the simple grace of L.E.L., declaring that he 
 never thought she could have been " sic a bonny sweet 
 lassie." 
 
 Such was the man away from home, free from trammels 
 and feted. The public dinner which Mr. Lockhart and I 
 got up to his honour at the Freemasons' Tavern, was a 
 yet greater triumph. With the manly, convivial Sir John 
 Malcolm in the chair, and supported by such others as Lord 
 Porchester (Earl of Carnarvon), Lord Mahon (Earl Stan- 
 hope), the soldier, poet and gentleman, Sir George Murray, 
 the gallant Sir Pultney Malcolm, Gait, the popular Scottish 
 novelist ; Captain Basil Hall, and though last not least, 
 the variously accomplished Gibson Lockhart, the festival 
 went off " famously," in spite of a late unexpected rush of 
 visitors who crowded the tables at the lower end, and had to 
 clamour for their rations during some minutes before the 
 resources of the house could be brought to their hungered 
 rescue. The scene was lively and entertaining to the two 
 hundred guests who had taken tickets in proper time, and 
 not left it to the chance of the last hour to find room, seats, 
 and a Hogg Dinner ! The toast of the day himself was 
 naturally in an inspired condition, and certainly impressed 
 
JAMES HOGG, THE ETTEICK SHEPHERD. 253 
 
 the assembly with a very favourable idea of his good qualities 
 and talent : his genuine humour, cordiality of heart, and 
 powers of song. No conduct could be more correct, no 
 behaviour more polite, than his, through the whole trying 
 ordeal of social and refined London, and yet in ordinary 
 circumstances he was strangely untutored in the common 
 ways of practical men. I may illustrate this by an amusing 
 instance in a private matter, but strikingly characteristic. 
 At my house, where he was every day, he happened to take 
 a fancy to the beauty of one of my daughters, who bore some 
 resemblance to the portrait of Mary Queen of Scots, and was 
 lavish of his admiration. Judge of the surprise received from 
 a letter from the impulsive Shepherd, after his return home, 
 with a formal proposal of marriage to the young lady, on 
 behalf of his nephew, a surgeon who was starting for London 
 on his way to India, and desired to marry her and take her 
 along with him. Whether the nephew was cognizant of the 
 offer I cannot tell ; but no favouring answer being returned, 
 he passed through town to his destination, and the favoured 
 lass never saw her intended ! 
 
 What the Shepherd did was spontaneous, on the spur of 
 the moment — not weighing and looking at things any how 
 but straight forward. Thus he betrayed a letter he had from 
 Byron to Wilson, which certainly ought not to have been 
 shown, had he taken time to consider, and begot a little 
 hostility on the side of Ebony's Maga, and augmented the 
 hate of his Lordship's lakist adversaries. Byron, however, 
 laughed at the blunder, and always spoke with high eulo- 
 gium of the genius of Hogg. And notwithstanding the 
 sterling proofs of that genius so abundantly afforded by his 
 works, it was not a little mystified by the erratic manner in 
 which it was sported with by his Ambrosian associates in 
 Blackwood. Beaders could not distinguish what was really 
 his, and what was " hoax ; " and the wounded Shepherd 
 sometimes writhed under the misapprehensions of the public, 
 and complained seriously of the injury. Affairs were how- 
 
254 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ever soon made smooth again. Mr. Blackwood was a warm 
 friend ; something was accepted or got forward to replenish 
 the purse, and all was well again. 
 
 Well again ; but alas ! only for a season. Periods of poverty- 
 overtook him — the farming did not "always succeed, and 
 the literature frequently failed. My humble efforts were 
 employed to assuage these evils, and being known as his 
 friend from the share I took in the London demonstration, 
 I was on several occasions made the instrument of forward- 
 ing relief. An anonymous letter signed C. D. from Sheffield 
 for example, conveyed a bank note of twenty pounds. I 
 obtained fifty from a nameless source, and helps from other 
 quarters, for which I had the most graceful and grateful 
 acknowledgments, far more than the services deserved, but 
 here brought under notice simply to show the position and 
 feelings of the Poet, when, after all his experiences, he 
 styled me, in acknowledgment, " a real and sterling literary 
 friend, which to my fondest estimations has hitherto been 
 rather equivocal." From this I would merely have it 
 inferred that when low in fortune, a remembrance of some 
 of the freaks committed on his name still rankled in his 
 mind, and the disappointments had unluckily left a stronger 
 impression than the benefits. 
 
 I have seen the original manuscript of some of Hogg's 
 earliest productions, and it is impossible to describe what 
 lapses he fell into. Happily they were corrected before 
 they saw the light in print, and in a short time the author 
 was in a condition to write the "Queen's Wake," and all 
 the rest of his admirable publications. 
 
 His vanity was not inconsiderable, and he was not 
 averse to comparing his poetry and works with the poetry 
 and works of Sir Walter Scott, with whom he was now and 
 then on questionable or rather cool terms. Cartley Hole 
 to be sure was the proper name of Abbotsford, when its 
 owner could not always enter into the views of his brother 
 bard of Altrive. But come weal, come woe, the battle of 
 
JAMES HOGG, THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. 255 
 
 life wore to an end. James Hogg lies' buried in Ettrick 
 Churchyard, with a suitable monument to his memory, 
 erected by his widow ; and in the same place is, I am 
 informed, a tombstone to his grandfather, of whom it is 
 recorded that " for feats of frolic, agility and strength, he 
 had no equal in his day ! " His grandson did justice to 
 such lineage, for he was strongly built, and capable of great 
 physical exertion. 
 
 The Shepherd left a family of sons and daughters, all 
 (the survivors) settled in respectable conditions in Scotland. 
 Recently, a biography of him has been published, but I do 
 not understand that it does justice to Ins merits and memory. 
 One unmarried daughter, I gather from it, is the most 
 ostensible representative of the talent of the father ; but I 
 cannot tell if she has meddled with the press. 
 
( 256 ) 
 
 JAMES HOLM AN, 
 
 THE BLIND TKAVELLEE. 
 
 IT is wonderful to behold how the loss or partial failure of 
 one sense is compensated by the consequent superior 
 development of another, or, it may be, of several, or of all 
 the others. Deprivation of sight almost invariably leads to 
 greater acuteness in hearing and the perception of smells. 
 Taste does not seem to be affected by it j* but touch is often 
 refined and vitalized (if we may coin the word) to an almost 
 incredible degree. In the dark corner of a city shop, many 
 have witnessed an elderly blind man assorting worsted 
 thread for German work, according to colour, from the most 
 pronounced to minutely varying shades of the softest hues. 
 A like sightless aged fishmonger, Mr. Groves, of Charing 
 Cross, by merely passing his hand over a haunch of venison, 
 could frequently tell from what nobleman's park in England 
 the superb joint came. I have witnessed this. 
 
 Our astonishment is somewhat diminished when we re- 
 flect on the fact that, by persevering practice, we can 
 educate any of our faculties to an all but incredible 
 extent of progressive improvement. That even common 
 habits long continued do the same for us, without the con- 
 sciousness of the change that is going on, or at least of its 
 completeness, proofs are passing continually before our eyes; 
 but we do not notice them. 
 
 Many practical chemists detect foreign ingredients more 
 
 * Yet it ia curious that we mechanically shut our eyes when we 
 are appealing to the palate. 
 
JAMES HOLMAN. 257 
 
 by the nose than the tongue ; a practised sportsman will 
 find game in fifty places where an inexperienced tyro can 
 detect nothing. 
 
 A sailor at sea is immediately warned by some appearance 
 in the horizon which escapes the utmost range of the lands- 
 man's eye. A shepherd in the vast space of a Highland 
 heather-clad landscape, scanning all around, does not fail to 
 observe the smallest disturbance of objects with which he is 
 familiar, even on the distant hill-top. It may be but a 
 bunch of herbage torn up and thrown loose, but it may be 
 something else, and he is not satisfied without ascertaining 
 what it " may be." 
 
 The class of tasters in London have employment and 
 remuneration of very competent amount. Wine-tasters are 
 in request at the docks, as tea-tasters were wont to be at the 
 India House sales. One person was acknowledged to be 
 the best rum-taster in the metropolis, and his income, from 
 the exercise of this single strange accomplishment, was 
 stated to have varied from a thousand to fifteen hundred 
 pounds a year. 
 
 Hearing appears to be the least susceptible of ameliora- 
 tion ; and yet no sense is more varied in human clearness 
 and compass. Abnormal deafness can often be abated or 
 remedied ; but the natural ear is seldom wrought by cir- 
 cumstances into an obviously more powerful condition. 
 One hears well, another indifferently, and another badly, 
 and so they continue through life ; but no invention or 
 usage can teach them to exalt the faculty to any marked 
 advantage ; far less till they might resemble Fine Ear, in 
 the instructive, though wildly imaginative tale, in which 
 the brother of that name could lay his ear to the ground 
 and hear the tramp of the enemy fully ten miles off ! The 
 training for a refined appreciation of music is of a different 
 order, and, in this respect, an exception to the rule touching 
 
 " The linked sweets that lie 
 In the rapt soul of harmony." 
 S 
 
258 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 As the prismatic colours of the sun, in perfect tone and 
 beautiful union, melt into one bright and clear light, ren- 
 dering all objects distinctly visible through the pure 
 medium, so may we observe that the perceptions of the 
 senses, wonderfully adapted and blended together in admir- 
 able accordance, convey a like light to the mental, as the 
 sun spectrum to the physical organization. We are enabled 
 to obtain a knowledge — to see, to feel, to appreciate ; but 
 the analogy holds no farther. If we separate the solar ray, 
 we get a series of various colours ; if we extinguish one of 
 the senses, we stimulate the rest to the exercise of higher 
 powers, yet preserving the same harmony of perception as 
 if the system were unbroken. How providential is the 
 compensation for the loss ! Assuredly Nature is bountiful — 
 God is good ! The deaf acquire intelligence from the forms 
 of the speaking mouth, or the language of the fingers. The 
 blind acquire learning by a rapid sweep of the hand over 
 types or models. In both cases we might say, with a resort 
 to pleasantly, that help is at hand ■ but in the most serious 
 of moods, we must say with gratitude, the mitigation of the 
 affliction is a Divine blessing beyond all human thanks. 
 
 Lieutenant James Holman was an extraordinary examjne 
 of what energy and perseverance could accomplish under 
 the heaviest privation to which the physical frame is liable. 
 At the age of twenty-five he was driven out of the naval 
 service of his country, which he entered very young as a 
 first-class volunteer, by the complete extinction of sight. 
 From visual intercourse with his fellow-men, and observa- 
 tion of things, he was shut out, and forced back, simply 
 and entirely, on the knowledge he had been enabled to 
 make his own in his earlier years. He felt the loss like a 
 man — he bore it like a philosopher — he rose above it like a 
 hero. His palate was refined, his touch exquisite, his 
 hearing wonderful, and his memory prodigious. If he 
 alluded to aught he had not ascertained, owing to his 
 blindness, I have jestingly met his complaint by asserting 
 
JAMES HOLMAN. 259 
 
 that he was much better provided than any one else ; for he 
 had eyes in his mouth, eyes in his nose, eyes in his ears, and 
 eyes in his mind, never blinking, but ready on all occasions 
 to perform his services with remarkable precision and effi- 
 cacy. He never was heard to repine at, or lament his 
 misfortune. Indeed, the memory becoming more retentive 
 is but a natural consequence. As in taste, we shut our 
 eyes when we want to think a little ; it bars the distractions 
 of the outer world, and the mind works with less inter- 
 ruption in the quietude of shaded repose. The same 
 principle accounts for its being more tenacious. 
 
 It is difficult to say whether the almost incredible phe- 
 nomena we have witnessed in the attainments of the blind, 
 spring from efforts of Nature to make up for the deficiency 
 by stimulating an exalted exercise of her other instruments, 
 or whether they are not the fruit of a peculiar genius 
 brought into existence by that cause. I am inclined to the 
 latter opinion, and that the sharpening of all the wits, and 
 thence the effects, are attributable to a distinct order of 
 organism, attended by manifestations quite unaccountable 
 by any process of common reasoning. Saunderson, the 
 great mathematician (blind from his infancy), scaled the 
 heavens by a light within himself; that of the sky he could 
 not see. Huber, the great naturalist, explored the whole 
 economy of the bee-hive, which till then had baffled the 
 inquisition of the most acute observers. And so Holman. 
 From Marco Polo to Mungo Park, no three of the most 
 famous travellers, grouped together, would exceed the 
 extent and variety of countries traversed by our blind 
 countryman. Like Argus, he examined everything with a 
 hundred eyes, though his own balls were as sightless as 
 those of that mythological personage after they were stuck 
 into the tail of Juno's proud bird. 
 
 For more than a quarter of a century he, as Dibdin's 
 ballad has it, ran " the world all over," and published 
 volumes after volumes with the interesting accounts of his 
 s 2 
 
260 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 migrations. Beginning his training with France, Italy, 
 Savoy, Switzerland, and Holland, he prepared us for his 
 farther and more marvellous explorations by the Narrative 
 of his Journey, which was very popular. And very 
 naturally so : for in the remarkable minuteness of many of 
 his details, acquired by touch, and consequent inquiries, 
 he conveyed a fund of curious information which it could 
 never have occurred to any toiirist possessed of vision to 
 seek. Then he ascended and examined Mount Vesuvius j 
 and from Naples he travelled with a deaf gentleman as his 
 companion, some fourteen or fifteen hundred miles to 
 Amsterdam, through the principal Italian and several of 
 the largest German cities. Their joint adventures, and the 
 little accidents which befel them, are related with charming 
 good humour and naivete. 
 
 At this period I became acquainted with him, and our 
 intimacy grew till he was taken from us six years ago. He 
 wrote well. I had several letters from him from various 
 parts, during his travels, in lands with which there was 
 postal intercourse ; and at times lost sight of him altogether, 
 when he was pursuing his course in some terra incognita, or 
 from whence it was very difficult to send intelligence. It 
 was not so at Fernando Po, whither he went with Captain 
 Owen, to assist in forming and establishing that anti-slave 
 settlement; and he really took an active part in the 
 troublesome business with the natives. Of this he sent me 
 an interesting description, which I gave to the periodical 
 press, for the amusement and gratification of the public. 
 The substance appeared afterwards in his collected "Voyage 
 Round the World," together with his excursions into the 
 interior of Africa (where he encountered no gorillas)/'" and 
 
 * He relates, however, anecdotes of huge baboons who are seen 
 like regularly disciplined troops in the field ; and in one case of 
 the punishment of a criminal having been witnessed, the offender 
 submitting to be successively bitten by the executioners, and scream- 
 ing frightfully as every bite was inflicted. 
 
JAMES HOLMAN. 261 
 
 thence to the Brazils, where he descended into the depths of 
 the famous Gonge mine, and explored it, as he had the 
 heights of Vesuvius. 
 
 I have not space in these slight sketches to follow my 
 sightless friend to the Cape, and among the Caffres, or to 
 Madagascar, the Mauritius, Sychelles, the Indian Archi- 
 pelago, Ceylon, where he hunted elephants, India, and 
 China. Of the latter hide-and-seek country, excepting that 
 he did not penetrate to Pekin, he told us nearly as much 
 thirty years ago as we know now. It has been said there 
 are none so blind as those who will not see ; but in his 
 travels the reverse appeared to be demonstrated, viz., that 
 there were none who could see so well as the blind. He 
 saw his way into the immense Chinese conspiracy against 
 their Tartar rulers, which spread wherever Chinamen were 
 settled, and began what is known to us at this day as the 
 Tae-ping rebellion. In its origin he traced the triads — 
 the sway of their great senior brother — and their rabid pro- 
 fession of a religion of blasphemy and bloodshed. His 
 e-hing-hivuy and han-shan-hwuy stories might be inserted in 
 the newspapers next week, and received by the general 
 reader as the latest news from Hong-Kong. From such 
 national affairs to the making of soy from the dolichos sooja 
 beans nothing escapes him ; and he fairly explained the 
 fact by referring to the tedious and severe process necessary 
 for his acquisition of exact information, supplying that 
 which others could partially ascertain at a glance. 
 
 But I have been diverted out of my direct course, and 
 ought to have previously mentioned his Russian expedition, 
 where an adventure of a very novel and unexpected kind 
 befel him. He was, as usual, prying into everything ; and 
 this did not accord with the jealousy of the Russian govern- 
 ment. Whether the officials suspected that he was not so 
 blind as he pretended, or that at any rate he contrived to 
 see too well for them, they arrested him as a spy. He was 
 secured as a political prisoner, and only after much trouble 
 
262 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 (which he bore as he bore everything, with most philosophical 
 equanimity) was enlarged, on the conviction of his absolute 
 blindness, but still with the prohibition against travelling 
 farther into the south of the empire. He had, accordingly, 
 to retrace his footsteps for a long route,but at length managed 
 to renew his journey, not under immediate inspection. 
 From the frontier he once more penetrated the guarded way 
 — in all, he got a thousand miles beyond Tobolsk — learnt 
 more of Siberia by personal inquisition than most people 
 ever wish to learn, and then flew off at a tangent for Egypt 
 and the East. Observe, he had no attendants, but, Corio- 
 lanus-like, could exclaim, " Alone I did it ! " As the one 
 fluttered the Volscians, the other fluttered the Muscovites : 
 only, the one fought his way into the interior, the other was 
 turned back, and never entered his Volsk.* 
 
 It does not consist with my plan, however, to follow him 
 all over his almost incredible range in Europe, Africa, 
 Asia, America, and Australia. Unsatisfied with ordinary 
 or trodden paths, he was prone to seek out-of-the-way places, 
 and boldly visited holes and corners to satiate his un- 
 appeasable appetite for new information. Illyria and the 
 Danubian Provinces, Kamschatka, Van Diemen's Land, 
 Wallachia, and Montenegro, were as keenly explored as 
 Spain, Portugal, Syria, and Turkey, towards the close of his 
 " Voyages ; " during which, it may truthfully be stated, 
 he traversed the great globe itself more thoroughly than any 
 other traveller that ever existed, and surveyed its manifold 
 parts as perfectly as (if not more than) the most intelligent 
 and clear-sighted of his predecessors of this or any other age 
 or country. Kings and queens accepted his dedications. 
 He was appointed one of the Knights of Windsor ; but he 
 disliked the restraint, and longed for and sought inde- 
 pendent freedom of action, whenever he could do so without 
 
 * Volsk is a Kussian town ahead of Lis route, with no known con- 
 nection with the ancient Coriolanian Volsci ! 
 
JAMES HOLMAIST. 263 
 
 the forfeiture of his moderate knightly provision. He was 
 always glacl to desert routine commons ; the knightly crib 
 at Windsor was no field for him. 
 
 The secret of his marvellous adventures and acquirements 
 seemed to lie, the first on his cool intrepidity and restless 
 curiosity, and the last, upon his habit (in the absence of 
 sight) of examining everything minutely to its origin and 
 through its progress, and upon his indelible memory. What 
 he had once seen, felt, had explained to him, and com- 
 prehended, he seemed never to forget ; like the photograph 
 plate, the impression made had only to be brought back to 
 the light, and every feature came out with luminous dis- 
 tinctness. " Could I have seen where I have only felt," 
 he said, " could I have witnessed what I have only heard, 
 could I have watched the features and the actions and the 
 trifling details that make up the sum of character, and 
 through which human motives are as visible as if they were 
 revealed in words, instead of being obliged to trust to oral 
 acquisition, to the sound of the voice, and the subtle tran- 
 sitions of its varying tones, my work ( ' Voyage Round the 
 World') would have been of a very different kind. But I 
 have been obliged to condense and refine my speculations ; 
 to judge by reference and comparison ; to extract by a 
 tedious and severe process — the essence of watchful observa- 
 tion ; and to rely upon accumulated testimonies for that 
 information which others obtain at a single view. But, 
 perhaps, what I have lost in vividness I may have gamed in 
 accuracy." Nothing can be more true, except that there is 
 no lack of vividness — the accuracy of his statements was 
 never impeached by traveller or critic. His extraordinary 
 resources in himself compensated for being shut out from 
 the picturesque in Nature ; and the productions of art were 
 also inaccessible to his appreciation ; but by his fidelity in 
 extracting all sorts of information on the spot, and making 
 an immediate record, in many instances he was enabled to 
 form a more correct judgment than even accomplished 
 
264 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 travellers, who are apt to take matters at first sight, to seek 
 less diligently for intelligence, and, in some cases, to be 
 misled by appearances which may seem to be adequately 
 scanned and understood by the eye without provoking 
 farther inquiry. Veni, vidi. vici, is a terse description ; but 
 after marching and reconnoitring, there is at least some 
 trouble and exertion necessary for the complete conquering. 
 
 "When I think of the indomitable perseverance of Holman, 
 of his endurance of fatigue, his callousness to danger, his 
 exhaustless patience, and his felicitous adaptation of himself 
 and conduct to the natives of all regions, civilized or bar- 
 barous, so as to squeeze, as it were, all the secrets out of 
 them, I am really disposed to consider him one of the 
 greatest wonders of the world he so sagaciously explored. 
 In his conversation he was lively and interesting; under all 
 circumstances, accommodating and good-natured. He was 
 consequently much esteemed and loved by those who en- 
 joyed the pleasure of his intimacy, and met with a mingled 
 feeling of sympathy and respect from general society. He 
 was easily amused. I met him at one of the Marquis of 
 Northampton's Royal Society Conversaziones in Piccadilly, 
 at which he appeared in a beard that would have done credit 
 to the Chief Rabbi of the Jews ; and it so happened that 
 Mr. Ward, the Royal Academican, had fancifully adopted 
 the same patriarchal style for years, and entered the room 
 with a like venerable aspect. Beards had not come into 
 fashion yet, and the two barbati were alone in their glory. 
 Knowing them both familiarly, I took an opportunity to 
 introduce them to each other, and as one was blind and the 
 other could not see, advised the cultivation of a further 
 intimacy by the mutual stroking of beards — a ceremony 
 they performed with hearty laughter, and to the no small 
 amusement of a little circle of admiring spectators. 
 
 I might call to mind numerous characteristic anecdotes, 
 but must content myself with two : one within my own 
 cognizance, the other related by a friend, and both bearing 
 
JAMES HOLMAN. 265 
 
 upon the astonishing discriminating faculties by which the 
 misfortune of loss of vision had been modified. On takino- 
 leave of me to depart on his longest journey, Holman slipped 
 a guinea into the hand of one of my sons "to 'get some 
 keepsake;" but the receipt of money being contrary to 
 family orders, the boy returned the coin with thanks. 
 About four years after, the traveller returned, and was con- 
 versing with me in the same room, when the same youth, 
 changed from twelve or thirteen to sixteen or seventeen 
 years of age, came up and spoke. " Ah," exclaimed Holman, 
 " that is the young gentleman who refused the guinea from 
 me when I set out for Russia." He at once recognized the 
 voice, though so considerably altered. On the other occasion 
 my informant was in company with a naval officer who had 
 been the lieutenant's messmate in the service many years 
 ago, and had written to inform him of his being in town, at 
 Feuillade's Hotel. As they sat in one of the dinner boxes 
 they saw the invited guest enter the room, and his old 
 comrade whispered, "Be quiet; see what he will do." Well, 
 he walked up past several tables, as if blessed with the 
 clearest sight, and softly put both his hands on that where 
 they were seated. There was no voice here, and it is im- 
 possible to account for an act so closely resembling the 
 highest animal instinct. (He had heard the whisper !) 
 
 Change of residence and other circumstances led to my 
 seeing little of Holman for several years prior to his death, 
 which is stated to have taken place in July, 1857, in lodgings 
 near the Minories ; nor can I imagine what took him into 
 that quarter. He left, it is also stated, journals and much 
 literary material in the hands of his executors and relatives; 
 but of these nothing farther has been heard, and I believe 
 that this brief pen-and-ink drawing must be the best 
 memorial that remains of one of the most remarkable men 
 of the age. 
 
266 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Since writing the foregoing paper, I have been enabled to 
 ascertain a few further individual particulars relating to this 
 interesting man. His father was a chemist and druggist, 
 residing in the Fore Street, Exeter, where he was born in 
 1786. His early habits were studious, and he had a decided 
 predilection for poetry ; but as he entered the navy at a 
 very early age (about twelve years old), he had little time to 
 cultivate this propensity, even were we to suppose it more 
 potent than the average intensity of thoughful and imagi- 
 native boyhood. A dozen of years of sea service, — and 
 especially at the stirring period of his employment in it, — 
 afforded more ample space for the development of other than 
 poetical faculties. 
 
 In later years, when in London, he passed the greater 
 part of his time at the house of his cousin, Mr. Andrew 
 Holman, surgeon, John Street, America Square ; and soon 
 after the publication of his Voyage Round the World, took 
 lodgings in Crutched Friars, in order to be near that ever 
 cordial and valued relation, to whom, I believe, he entrusted 
 the entire management of his affairs, and appointed one of 
 his executors to arrange the last disposition of his worldly 
 objects, including a very natural longing for fame beyond 
 the grave. 
 
 I was aware that a literary friend of mine had assisted in 
 the compilation of his works, and seeing them through the 
 press ; but I did not know that he had directed his manu- 
 scripts and other materials to be confided to him with the 
 expectancy of posthumous re-publication, with a biographical 
 memoir of the author. I presume that the legatee found no 
 encouragement in the trade for fulfilling this hope or pro- 
 mise ; so that probably it has gone to rest for ever, even for 
 partial realization. The trust could not have been reposed 
 in abler hands ; and our regret for the result must be miti- 
 
JAMES HOLMAN. 267 
 
 gated by the belief that the desire could not be practically 
 accomplished. 
 
 And so the busiest spin out their existence, with some- 
 thing left to be done by others, which is not or cannot be 
 done. The traveller who had traversed the globe, under 
 circumstances of unexampled difficulty, solaces the evenings 
 of his life-days, when not otherwise engaged, with the 
 vicissitudes of backgammon, in his cousin's home. At this 
 game he was surprisingly expert, and it afforded him un- 
 tiring amusement. If ever he left a blot here, it was the 
 only one that could be taken up throughout his whole ex- 
 cellent character ; and we may close the board with the 
 reflection that a worthier name does not grace the list of 
 daring adventure and literary enterprise I 
 
 ^ ^"^ MjU*^ 
 
( 268 ) 
 
 WILLIAM HUSKISSON. 
 
 THE melancholy death of the Eight Honourable "William 
 Huskisson caused a profound sensation on the public 
 mind when the ajmalling catastrophe took place, and thirty 
 years have not obliterated the impression, while they have 
 added a new element to the reflections it created. The per- 
 emptory decision of the Duke of Wellington to consider 
 Mr. Huskisson's letter as a positive resignation of office, and 
 to admit of no explanation whatever, proceeded from an 
 inner j:>art of the illustrious and iron Duke's nature, which 
 future history may more clearly trace : it is enough for me 
 to suggest that, in his later political career, his Grace never 
 cordially liked Mr. Canning nor any of his friends. They 
 were in the way of something in the distance, perhaps not 
 yet formally recognized in that far-sighted mind, nor con- 
 templated as within the province of immediate action. I 
 have no doubt it produced the estrangement which was 
 accidentally connected with the fate of the unfortunate 
 gentleman ; for it was in a formally courteous movement 
 towards the Duke that he became unaware of the rapid 
 approach of the train, and fell before the deadly wheel. 
 
 Huskisson's training was somewhat remarkable, and 
 afforded him an early acquaintance with strange and stirring 
 scenes. The overthrow of the social system in France, and 
 the unbridled license given to the violent ]:>assions of men, 
 found him a young student of medicine at Earis, where he 
 was educated under an uncle, Dr. Gem. Like many a 
 youth in the focus of that terrible convulsion, and, indeed, 
 
WILLIAM HUSKISSOX. 269 
 
 like multitudes, mature as well as premature, all over 
 Europe, lie was borne away on the tide of revolutionary 
 promise, at least (it is said) " assisted" at the destruction of 
 the Bastille, and gave early indications of his financial apti- 
 tudes by delivering a speech at one of the reform societies 
 (the Quatre Vingt Neuf ), recommending measures to avoid 
 the issue of worthless assignats. With this, I believe, his 
 interest in the vision of universal beatitude ceased ; for the 
 sanguinary events which ensued soon sobered his aspirations, 
 and made him a wiser, and, consequently, a better man. 
 His distinguished talents introduced him into the employ- 
 ment of the English ambassador, Lord Gower, as secretary, 
 at the age of twenty-two; and from that period, 1792, to 
 his return to his native land, his course was onward and . 
 upward. Henry Dundas was not slow in discovering his 
 sterling merits, nor William Pitt in availing himself of them ; 
 and the confidential friendship of George Canning furnished 
 a still stronger proof of the estimation in which his capacity 
 for important business and his character as a man were held 
 by the foremost among his contemporaries. Thus he raised 
 himself from a private station to the rank of Secretary of 
 State. The ordeal through which he had securely passed 
 was trying ; but it served to refine the gold, whilst it en- 
 riched the mine. Rich as it was, he was a hard worker in 
 bringing its treasures to light, and my comparison will not 
 be inaptly sustained if I refer to his labours on the bullion 
 question in evidence of its applicability. Of our colonial 
 system he was also a signal improver, and in Parliament 
 (latterly representing great commercial interests) he became 
 an authority looked up to on every side. In debate he was 
 memorable for the " great facts " he was accustomed to 
 announce, for substantial reasoning, and for arguments put 
 both with plain common sense and pithy logical precision, 
 which it was extremely embarrassing to encounter and yet 
 more difficult to controvert. 
 
 I have dwelt much on his public life, in order to sketch 
 
270 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the contrast which his private life thus displayed. Here all 
 was ease, suavity, and simplicity. The politician, the 
 financier, the official and laborious statesman, had disap- 
 peared. Rather grave than lively, his conversation was 
 very entertaining, from the variety of his intelligence and 
 the pleasant manner of communicating it. There seemed 
 to be no subject upon which he was not soundly informed ; 
 and his readiness to impart his knowledge was a virtue and 
 a beauty, rarely met with in persons engaged in similar 
 pursuits or endowed with similar attainments. He was 
 frank. In advising with him on matters which concerned 
 my guidance (the relations which led to such interviews are 
 of no consequence), he would speak thus : " The truth is so- 
 and-so — the affair, or affairs, may be complicated by so-and- 
 so, or misrepresented, but I put you in possession of the 
 real state of the case to the best of my knowledge ; employ 
 it at your own discretion, and my only reserve is, not to be 
 made (as it would be inconvenient in my position and afford 
 you no strength) personally resjsonsible by being quoted as 
 your informant." I never found an error when acting on 
 these judicious counsels. Events proved the authenticity of 
 the circumstances, and the fund of intelligence which sup- 
 plied their data prevented any mistaken application of their 
 bearing on the matters at issue. 
 
 But one of the most attractive features in Mr. Huskisson's 
 private and personal intercourse was the calm sedateness 
 which seemed to mark every word, look, and motion. 
 Contrasting with the Parisian opening of his career in storm 
 and anarchy, with the stirring duties of his progress in after- 
 years, and with the still more laborious occupations and 
 heavy responsibilities of his later time, it was perfectly 
 refreshing to participate in the philosophic calm of his 
 natural quietude, whether imparting information of deep 
 interest or enjoying the ever pleasant relief of social and 
 intellectual communion. In parties of this description, he 
 shone indeed without intense brilliancy, but he did shine 
 
WILLIAM HUSKISSON. 271 
 
 with a light so clear, krrgely diffused, and agreeable, as to 
 leave (if I may use the term) photographs as characteristic, 
 forcible, and lasting, as the strongest impression from more 
 dazzling sources. 
 
 As a gentleman he was truly amiable ; as a financial 
 statesman he was without a superior in the age to which he 
 belonged ; and, to complete' the portrait, he had a mind so 
 fraught with various intelligence and information as to be 
 at all times one of the most unaffected, delightful, and 
 instructive of companions. 
 
 His death was a sad one, and was a loss to his country. 
 The fated spot is commemorated by a statue, erected by a 
 subscription among his friends and admirers of Liverpool, 
 which important place he succeeded his constant friend, 
 George Canning, in fitly representing. The cordial alliance 
 of these two eminent men was of essential value to both in 
 public life, and shed an indescribable charm over their 
 personal association. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Most of the biographical notices I have met with of 
 Mr. Huskisson have represented him as of mean origin, and 
 one who had risen from utter obscurity ; but, on the con- 
 trary, he sprang from the roof-tree of a landed gentleman of 
 old family, and was educated in the most complete manner 
 under his mother's uncle. Dr. Gem, who ranked high as a 
 physician in Paris, and was the friend and philosophical 
 associate of Benjamin Franklin. So far from the adventures 
 of poverty, he was heir to an entailed estate, and only gave 
 up other promising pursuits to devote himself to politics 
 under the auspices of noble and distinguished statesmen 
 connected with the embassy to France. Whether he assisted 
 
272 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 at the taking of the Bastille or not matters little, or that he 
 made a speech at the Quatre Yingt Neuf (not the Jacobin) 
 Club, so early was he financial, against the issue of worthless 
 assignats. Hardly had he settled in his native country 
 before his abilities were appreciated by Henry Dundas. He 
 was employed in matters requiring great industry and 
 talent, and he succeeded by the sheer force of superior 
 intellect to the eminent position in which he shone as every 
 way worthy of the public confidence reposed in him. His 
 friendship with Canning was in itself a great national 
 benefit ; and to meet them together was to taste the rare 
 happiness of witnessing greatness and simplicity combined 
 in a way which excited your astonishment at the possible 
 union of such glorious endowments without a mark of 
 superiority. As he lived, so did Mr. Huskisson die. Ap- 
 palling was his death, and the sufferings he endured, but as 
 his dying breath expressed it, he expired "at peace with all 
 mankind." He was a dreadful sacrifice to the inauguration 
 of the mighty railroad system ; at every fatal catastrophe 
 that arrives my mind reverts to the memory of its first 
 victim — "William Huskisson. 
 
 / J-^n~j>. 
 
( 273 ) 
 
 JOSEPH JEKYLL. 
 
 THERE are certain persons who are made, as it were, re 
 presentative types of a class, and thus attain celebrity 
 to an extent which con Id hardly be within the reach of mere 
 intrinsic talent. They are frequently not even first in their 
 own line, but are by circumstances elevated to the supreme 
 rank, and kept there by voluntary homage and complaisant 
 usage. Once inaugurated, their fellow Paladins are among 
 the foremost to support their title, and illustrate it by sacri- 
 fices and self-denials which involve an amount of tribute not 
 more extraordinary in the mass than difficult to be accounted 
 for in individual cases. Few monarchs are recipients of 
 such spontaneous contributions. So it is, however, with 
 the king wit, royal office-bearer of the day ; and the grand 
 llama has no more devoted worshippers than the priests of 
 his court, who minister the very incense of which his 
 essence is composed. The person whose being I am now 
 about to recall was this type of the wit or jester, the sayer 
 of smart things and writer of clever epigrams, to whom it 
 was the fashion to ascribe not only what he did himself, but 
 nearly all the flying bon- mots, jeux d'esprit, repartees, puns, 
 and witticisms of the day. And, as I have suggested, there 
 is always such a one — such a head of the herd. Not to go 
 back into classic antiquity, I may refer to the famous Mr. 
 Joseph Miller (of whom it is difficult to affirm that he ever 
 uttered a syllable of what has been fathered upon him), to 
 Swift, or Foote, or George Buchanan, to Tom Brown, or 
 
 T 4 
 
274 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Tom Erskine (inferior to his brother Henry of like North- 
 Athenian fame), to the yet greater Tom, Tom Hood, musical 
 Tom Cooke, unctuous Sidney Smith, ever-ready Theodore 
 Hook, stinging Douglas Jerrold, elegant Sam Rogers — all 
 bright meteors in the facetious sphere I have indicated ; 
 though perhaps not reigning quite singly, so as to constitute 
 distinct eras of Millerian, Footian, Smithian, Hookian, or 
 Sam-Rogerian dynasties. 
 
 Joseph Jekyll, the Joseph Miller of my sketch, for ex- 
 ample, was contemporaneous with Tom Erskine ; both 
 called to the bar in the same year, 1778 ; both having that 
 prolific law field for the exercise of their facidty, and both 
 living to extreme old age, as if to demonstrate that f)lea- 
 santry is not hurtful to health. Even satire, it may be 
 credited, is not so painful or injurious to the dispenser as to 
 the receiver. But these were less satirists than good- 
 humoured pets of good fortune. 
 
 When Erskine stood for Portsmouth (his first parlia- 
 ment), Jekyll observed, and the story is rather weak 
 for such distinguished interlocutors, " You have been 
 long a wanderer : I hope you will now stick to the 
 Point" (where boats land at Portsmouth). — "Yes," 
 replied Erskine, " I have my eye on the Pole, where you 
 know the jointers are." 
 
 I would venture a "Common Hard" remark, that 
 neither astronomy nor humour will be very brilliantly 
 illumed by this colloquy, but it served as a pleasantry 
 at the moment. But one reflection will strike, if not 
 haunt the mind, on reviewing the list, and lending a 
 retrospective thought to the lives and fortunes of these 
 courted, feared, caressed, hated, flattered, and abused foun- 
 tains of the jokes so triumphant and trumpeted in their 
 fleeting span : " Where be their gibes now, their gambols, 
 their songs, their flashes of merriment, that were wont to 
 set the table on a roar 1 . . . quite chop-fallen." Alas ! 
 poor Yoricks. 
 
JOSEPH JEKYLL. 275 
 
 The lingering look behind is not encouraging ; nay, it 
 would be most painful to indulge in it, since 
 
 " Every year 
 Some flowers decay, some thorns appear ; " 
 
 but such considerations belong to graver subjects. 
 
 Mr. Jekyll, who was descended from a Sir Joseph, Master 
 of the Rolls, knighted by George L, rose as high as his 
 deserts, literary, legal, political, or humorous, could entitle 
 him. His pen was busy in the " Morning Chronicle" and 
 the "Evening Statesman," and I fancy the " Galliad" was 
 his production. If so, I might justly apply to him the 
 couplet of Rousseau : — 
 
 " Raison sans sel est fade nourriture ; 
 Sel sans raison n'est solide patnre." 
 
 Elevated to the pasquinade throne, Jekyll had no voca- 
 ' tion to be a lion's provider ; but, on the contrary, all the 
 lions upon town performed the customary services in his 
 favour, and he had the reputation of all, insomuch that it is 
 not easy, at this distance of time, to point out what really 
 emanated from, and what was ascribed to him. This may 
 not be worth while, for, in truth, epigrammatic celebrity 
 often rests on very slender foundations, and at the best is of 
 a very transitory nature ; but, as a popular blaze while it 
 lasts, and producing certain effects on society, it is not un- 
 deserving of sage notice and consideration. Among the 
 attributes to Jekyll, when in full possession of the station 
 in chief to which he had been lifted by his contemporary 
 jokers, I remember he was quoted as the original of the 
 Romanist and Protestant dialogue. Rom. " Where was 
 your religion before Luther 1" Prot. (in answer by another 
 question) " Did you wash your face this morning 1" . Horn. 
 " Yes." Prot. " And where was your face before it was 
 washed?" To which, as Sancho Panza says, "there is no 
 T 2 
 
276 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 reply '," but I doubt the ascription either to Jekyll, or the 
 date. He was more likely to be at home on the new button 
 for the naval uniform : — 
 
 " For the navy a button now staggers the town ; 
 To the anchor is soon to be added the crown ; 
 Keep Percival Premier — I speak without rancour — 
 The crown, be assured, will soon come to an anchor." 
 
 Or, more assuredly, the lines on his brother lawyer Cockle, 
 a bulky, fat, rubicund serjeant-at-law, pleading with much 
 energy :— 
 
 " The Serjeant speaks, his face on fire, 
 And all the court may rue it ; 
 His purple garments come from Tyre, 
 His arguments go to it." 
 
 It was of this same rosy serjeant that a better anecdote was 
 told, when badgering a simple countryman witness in a 
 fishery case. ' ' Do you like fish ] " asked the browbeating 
 but almost baffled counsel — "do you like fish 1 ?" " E-es, 
 zur," answered Simplicity, " I loiks fish, but I donna loik 
 Cockle sauce wi't!" 
 
 To return, however, to the man himself. In several 
 parliaments he represented Calne, that nursing-mother of so 
 many famous Whigs, elegant orators in the House, and dis- 
 tinguished politicians in the State. At a time when party 
 ran high, Jekyll was appointed Attorney-General to the 
 Prince of Wales — a promotion due rather to his convivial 
 talent than his forensic abilities ; for he was exceedingly 
 lively in conversation ; full of anecdotes of the bench and 
 bar, often characteristic and generally entertaining. A 
 somewhat Voltaire-like countenance, and a flexible person 
 and agreeable voice, did not detract from these qualifica- 
 tions j and so he wrought his way upward, aud was received 
 with welcome in the circle to which he belonged. But, to 
 own the truth, he never got forward as a lawyer, and was at 
 
JOSEPH JEKYLL. 277 
 
 last shelved (from Solicitor-General to the Duchy of Corn- 
 wall) as a Master in Chancery, without having by practice 
 acquired any knowledge of equity — being neither the first 
 nor the last Master who never had been a scholar in that 
 school of equation and court of balance between precedent 
 and right, law and justice. Well, it followed according to 
 the common fashion. The Master out of his chambers, 
 where he had not much to do, continued to be as sparkling 
 as if he had not been dignified, and his witticisms and 
 manners as acceptable as ever. It was a pleasant life for a 
 pleasant man. Yet I have usually gone from his company 
 without being able to recollect any striking remark or signi- 
 ficant effect, but simply satisfied that the time spent had 
 been passed in a very amusing way. He was doubtless a 
 strenuous party man, but he had little or nothing to give up 
 to party, that was meant for mankind. 
 
 One moral of this slight sketch in my miniature contri- 
 bution to the national portrait gallery is, to show how 
 short-lived this sort of fame is — the same now as fifty years 
 ago — only that the town talk has a more abundant and 
 rapid succession of matters to divert it from even nine days' 
 wonders ; and what would have been " argument for a 
 week, laughter for a month," to London in other days, can 
 hardly obtain a hearing now amid the universal buzz of the 
 huge metropolis, or, if it does, is forgotten as soon as heard. 
 
 A still more striking moral may be drawn, in reflecting 
 on the ephemeral and worthless ends to which Jekyll's wit 
 was applied. To raise an idle laugh or momentary surprise 
 is a poor use of a talent capable of being turned to highest 
 social benefits, in the discomfiture of evil, or the defence 
 and advancement of good. 
 
278 
 
 MEN T HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA 
 
 Notwithstanding what I have said, somewhat in dis- 
 paragement of the sparkling bubbles that rise and float for 
 a moment on the social stream, far be it from me to affect 
 the Cynic, to despise those pleasantries which cause smiles 
 like ripples, to variegate and play upon the monotonous flow. 
 They serve their turn in seasoning genial enjoyment, and 
 dispersing the dulness of many a stupid hour. But my 
 remarks apply to their failure on preservation and repeti- 
 tion. There is no need of the warning risum teneatis, for 
 you cannot raise the laugh again. On the contrary, it 
 generally happens that the effect of the jest depends on 
 accessories, the detail of which would be intolerably tedious, 
 and without which the point must be blunted or lost. Still, 
 in order to illustrate my sketch, and also my argument in a 
 trifling measure, I feel disposed to add a few lines to the 
 brief memoranda of my original notice. 
 
 Jeremy, or Jeremiah Bentham, whose very name may 
 suggest antagonism to joke and pun, declared that Lord 
 Lansdowne's hoisting Jekyll into Parliament (for Calne) 
 was altogether a burlesque upon the legislature and con- 
 stitutional government. Had it been Stuart Mill, Jeremy 
 would not have lamented the deed. 
 
 The lines I have quoted on Serjeant Cockle are, I find, 
 generalized in the " Archseologia," and run thus : — 
 
 " The Serjeants, see, are a grateful race, 
 Their robes and speeches show it : 
 Their purple robes do come from Tyre, 
 Their arguments go to it." 
 
 Of another Serjeant we have another story. Serjeant Pell 
 was a large holder of Spanish bonds which were not paid, 
 (nor, I fancy, have been since that time unto this day), and 
 
JOSEPH JEKYLL. 279 
 
 there was a . great meeting of the parties most concerned, 
 at the Freemasons' Tavern, on the subject. The learned 
 Seijeant was haranguing them as Jekyll looked in to see 
 what was doing, and at dinner the wit gave his version of 
 the business. " I beard Pell preaching a sermon this 
 morning at a tavern about Spanish bonds. I think I could 
 have given him a text." Of course the company asked 
 " What text ? " " Well," he said, " I think this expression of 
 Saint Paul, ' I would that all men were even as I am except 
 these bonds ! ' " 
 
 I may observe that the Bar is most prolific of favourable 
 opportunities for the display of dry quips or caustic humours. 
 One has only to mix familiarly with a circuit, to be enter- 
 tained and laden with the superabundance of fun, often 
 practical as well as verbal, that is pelted into his brain. Any 
 long-experienced barrister, learned in this particular branch 
 of Law, could annex a volume of specimens to my meagre 
 page, which I will end with only one other morsel of this 
 sort. A very little pleader was trying with all his height 
 to attract the attention of the Bench, which Jekyll noticing 
 to be in vain, observed " de minimis non curat lex." 
 
 He married a daughter of Sir Hans Sloane, on whose 
 death his house was bought by a tailor, who had acquired 
 great wealth in his business. Mrs. Jekyll was much 
 mortified by this degradation of the family mansion, and 
 next morning, after the news, said she had had no sleep for 
 thinking of it. " Well," said her husband, " I am very sorry, 
 Snip has Snap your Snorum ! " [I may need to explain 
 that this alludes to a round game at cards, in which the 
 players overcome each other in the succession of its name 
 Snip, Snap, Snorum.] 
 
 That Jekyll could be petulant as well as jocular, I am 
 well assured by an anecdote told me, with no flattering com- 
 ment upon it, by a fellow Bencher, who, in some unimportant 
 discussion, heard him say to Baron Maseres (an able mathe- 
 matician and inoffensive man) " That's a lie ; " " which," 
 
280 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 added my informant, " gave me so much offence, that I could 
 never listen afterwards to any of his efforts of faded wit or 
 pungent jokes." I may admit that this is very severe, but it 
 illustrates the judicious maxim that popular wits should be 
 careful against transgressing the proper limits of their en- 
 tertaining faculty ; and guard their lively tongue or pen 
 from any utterance that can be disliked or censured among 
 their clever things which are so long remembered. Errando 
 disco is their ticket for an agreeable life. Courted and 
 prized by the world at large ; it is a pity they should ever 
 create an enemy, or leave behind them a discordant note on 
 the cheerful tenour of their way. Their fame, like that of 
 actors on the stage, is wofully evanescent ; and I am afraid 
 to confess how closely it resembles the mimic theatre in its 
 foundation upon insecure and slippery ground ! 
 
 But I will not so gravely close my Recollection of a Man 
 who was much heard of in his day, and of whom published 
 Biography speaks as one whose " bon-mots often convulsed 
 the Bar with laughter ; " and whose " ever-sparkling wit 
 delighted all who came within his convivial sphere." Con- 
 fessing once more how difficult, nay impossible, it seems to be 
 to revive these piquant strokes, which told well enough on 
 their transient hour, and make them live again for a new 
 generation, under new circumstances, and with new ideas, I 
 must be further repentant, and say if it could be done it 
 would not be worth while. Like needles in pottles of hay, 
 they are little worth seeking out and endeavouring to pre- 
 serve. Even such the parody attributed to Master Jekyll : — 
 
 "All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd, 
 
 The streamers waving in the wind, 
 When Castlereagh appear' d on board ; 
 
 Oh, where shall I my Curtis find ? 
 Tell me, ye gallant sailors, tell me true, 
 
 If my fat William sails among your crew ? 
 William, who, high upon the poop, 
 
 Eock'd * * * " 
 
JOSEPH JEKYLL. 281 
 
 Of the witticisms ascribed to him, I am by no means sure of 
 the following. 
 
 Captain , R.N. and M.P., and strong in the opposition, 
 
 was observed to tone down in his attacks upon the adminis- 
 tration of the Admiralty. " How can you account for this 
 change 1 " said some one to Jekyll. " He Flags ! " was the 
 reply. 
 
 After Lord Erskine was made a Knight of the Thistle, 
 little was heard of him in public for a while ; and Jekyll 
 described him as " The Green Man and Still." 
 
 Mr. Rogers took a lively interest in the success of the 
 publishing business of the late worthy Mr. Moxon ; in- 
 somuch that some of his jocular friends chose to impute 
 his patronage to a natural cause. " Nonsense," said our wag, 
 " nothing of the kind could happen — he can only be a Mock 
 Son ! " 
 
 The story was told that on the marriage of Lord Stowell 
 and the Marchioness of Sligo, their names, according to 
 etiquette, were placed on the door — 
 
 Marchioness of Sligo. 
 Sir William Scott. 
 
 Upon which our wit remarked, " I thought he would be 
 obliged to knock under ! " Not relishing the Bar laugh at 
 the joke, the stoxy went on to say that when raised to the 
 peerage as Lord Stowell, his Lordship caused the position 
 of the inscribed plates to be altered, upon which Jekyll said, 
 " I expected she would knock him up ! " 
 
 n ^ 
 
( 282 ) 
 
 DE. KITCHENEB. 
 
 DR. KITCHENER was a character. The march of 
 intellect, as we call it, is treading character out, and 
 it is becoming very rare to meet with a "real" Original. 
 In elder days, when characters were more plentiful, it was 
 epigrammatically said of another, a dramatic and medical 
 humorist — 
 
 " For physic and farces 
 His equal there scarce is. 
 His farces are physic : 
 His physic a farce is." 
 
 And so it might be said of Kitchener (only in prose, the 
 words being intractable to verse), for medicating and book- 
 making he had no equal : his medicating was book-making, 
 and his book-making medicating ! But his medication was 
 not limited to two or three parts of the system : it was 
 universal. There was no part or portion of the human 
 frame that he did not take under his protection. Yet there 
 were three especially favoured — the eye, the ear, and the 
 stomach ; for he was a great optician, a great musician, and 
 a great gastronome. And he was exceedingly good-natured 
 withal. Though occasionally a little petulant, he speedily 
 forgave offence, and refraternized with the offender. For 
 instance, when one of his friends ridiculed his optical 
 science, and told him, in ancient Latin phrase, about need- 
 ing the aid Beati Martini (vulgarly rendered " all my eye 
 and Betty Martin"), he saw and laughed at the joke without 
 using his spectacles. Of his music he never tired ; nor did 
 
DR. KITCHENER. 283 
 
 it ever cross his mind that anybody else could resist being 
 capt in the elysium of his piano (of which more anon). 
 His medical (" Pej>tic") precepts and gastronomic practices 
 were wonderfully combined, insomuch that it was not 
 always easy to tell, in partaking of what was set before you, 
 whether you might be swallowing a meal or a prescription 
 at his hospitable, or, as the case might be, his hospital 
 board. 
 
 Dr. Kitchener published a considerable quantity of mis- 
 cellaneous literature, displaying the various accomplishments 
 at which I have hinted ; as, for example, " The Economy of 
 the Eyes," " Observations on Vocal Music," " The Art of 
 Invigorating and Prolonging Life," and " The Cook's 
 Oracle," representing the particular subjects to which I 
 have referred, i.e., the optico-musico-medico-ejngastro super- 
 abundance of his prolific talent. Seriously speaking, his 
 multifarious endowments were not unworthy of a respect- 
 able mark, and his eccentricities were harmless and amusing. 
 
 The dinners at which he entertained a few of his inti- 
 mates (generally six or eight, at most) were by no means so 
 bizarre as rumour gave them out. If the oddities were 
 there, there was always a fair counterbalance of the relish- 
 able and genuine. The very incongruities gave a zest to 
 the treat. A tureen of soup, indeed, was not liked the 
 better for having its ingredients explained, and the price — 
 perhaps sixpence or sevenpence— recorded (though, after all, 
 it was fairly palatable and nutritious) ; but, at any rate, it 
 might be followed by a costly cut of a Severn salmon, and 
 there was generally a joint, to save you from experimenting 
 on the made dishes, which, I must own, seemed often to be 
 of dubious quality, and rather dangerous to depend iipon 
 for a man with an appetite. The wines partook of the 
 same mixed variety. They were of sundry kinds, and 
 might be classed as good, bad, and indifferent : some espe- 
 cially recommended because they were quite new — fresh, 
 from the docks — or tawny from antiquity, or mellowed by 
 
284 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 age, or having a peculiar bouquet, or having " eaten up 
 their crust." Fortunate it was at these meetings that the 
 rule was de gustibus non disputandum : every one took 
 what he most fancied, and did what he liked. Sometimes 
 there might not be that ready overflowing supply which was 
 more usual in those times than in our more temperate days, 
 and the Doctor was deprived of his horizontal constitutional 
 siesta for one hour after dinner. Sometimes mirthful jests 
 were perpetrated, which might remind us of Peter Pleydell's 
 high jinks, described by Sir Walter Scott. The story of the 
 board hung up in the lobby has often been repeated: "Come 
 at seven : go at eleven ;" but it was not George Colman, 
 but another hand, that painted in the little " it" after "go," 
 which so materially altered the purport of the whimsical, 
 and no longer judicious inscription. It was uj>on that 
 occasion, I remember well, that Dr. Haslam, his most inti- 
 mate friend, was one of the guests, Charles Kemble another, 
 when, I think, it was Arnold got our host to be seated on 
 his music-stool, and every composition, more admirable than 
 the last, made the guests (whilst they were enjoying them- 
 selve ad libitum) reluctant to leave. It was then that the 
 practical joke of exhibiting the board with " go it at eleven' 
 was carried out, and the meeting prolonged into the small 
 hours of the morning. At other times the Doctor's inti- 
 mation of early hours was observed with all due decorum ; 
 for it must not be imagined that in yielding one night, such 
 as I have described, to a merry mood for frolic, these feasts 
 were other than temperate and decorous : they were rather 
 distinguished for the " feast of reason," rendered more 
 piquant, perhaps, by the nature of the material feast, and 
 the wit provoked by the unconscious whimsicalities of the 
 Doctor, who was really in earnest with what the world was 
 so ready to take and treat as jest. Let it be also remem- 
 bered that these were but the occasional relaxations of busy, 
 hard-fagged men. 
 
 Dr. Haslam, to whom I have referred as the Doctor's 
 
DR. KITCHENER. 285 
 
 intimate friend, was a very skilful mad-doctor, and almost 
 as great a humorist as Kitchener himself. When the 
 " Cook's Oracle" was published, it so happened that the 
 editor of a periodical which reviewed new works was in the 
 country, and had left the office of criticising any novelty 
 (in his way !) in the charge of the gentleman referred to, 
 than whom there could not be one found in London more 
 competent for the task. He did perform it in a very 
 entertaining style, but shockingly to disturb the amour 
 propre of the author, who rushed in fury to his bosom 
 friend to seek counsel for implacable revenge. Haslam did 
 not venture then to confess the criticism, for the Doctor 
 declared that the injury was of a nature never to be for- 
 given ; and his account of the interview was ludicrous 
 beyond description. In a few months, however, the "Cook's 
 Oracle" was pacified and reconciled to every member of his 
 committee of taste, whose praise of his unrivalled gourmetry 
 at the next meeting was potent enough to heal any wounds. 
 But, alas! even the "follies of the wise" must come to 
 an end. The end of poor Kitchener's career was a melan- 
 choly one. A very agreeable evening party at Mr. Braham's, 
 redolent of charming music, was concluded by the usual 
 petit souper, which means a rather luxurious supper. Sir 
 John Stevenson and other musical celebrities were there, 
 and Kitchener was in his glory. He forgot all about his 
 own rule of retiring at eleven, and in the height of his 
 enjoyment was above all delighted with a pet macaw, which 
 would sit on the shoulder of our hostess, and, apparently 
 listening to every fine movement, throw in a discord or a 
 plaudit of its own. The mind when most disturbed or 
 anxious, or even deeply depressed, is apt to fly into an 
 opposite though temporary extreme, to be amused with 
 trifles and play with idle pleasures. None present were 
 aware that the droll attraction of the "foreign fowl" was 
 serving as a screen to conceal a cloud of carking care, and 
 helped to detain the Doctor for two hours or more beyond 
 
286 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the magic eleven. Yet so it was — sad lesson to humanity. 
 We learned afterwards that, owing to domestic circum- 
 stances, he had prepared a settlement which would inflict 
 contingencies or restrictions on the inheritance of his son, 
 and that the following day was fixed for his signature. At 
 nine o'clock in the morning he was dead. His dej^arture 
 was unobserved : he was -only fifty-two years old. 
 
 We could have better spared a better man ; yet with all 
 his foibles he was inoffensive and kind-hearted. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Dr. William Kitchener in his square- toe cut of habili- 
 ments, with his economical epicurism, his recipes for long 
 life (how he stole away from them !), and his other eccentri- 
 cities, may seem to readers who think two laughs one too 
 many in our serious world to have been sufficiently preserved 
 already in my morsel of literary confection. But I liked 
 the Doctor, and would fain have a few more words with 
 him before we part. It will soon be midnight : let us go 
 it a little at eleven ! 
 
 "Go it! and how shall we travel 1 ? not on horseback 
 certainly, for the doctor recommended a Cow, which the 
 Goer could ride on his journey and five on her milk. Yoked 
 in carriages the fashion would be much easier, and the 
 South Africans were still the most stupid of savages, to yoke 
 bullocks in their family equipages. Still he held by the 
 equine in some cases, as preferable to the bovine ; for as the 
 Spaniard said, " The horse is the best Physician," though he 
 indecorously added, " The best Apothecary is but an Ass." 
 
 An occasional rendezvous to his Tuesday evening and 
 Committee of Taste was extremely amusing. On this, and 
 on all feeding times, his grand panacea was, "Never affront 
 
DK. KITCHENER. 287 
 
 the stomach!" Except that the worship of the Universal 
 Pan must be moderate and within bounds, it might have 
 gone with Drunken Barnaby — 
 
 " Edunt, bibunt, ludunt, rident, 
 Curse dignum nihil vident." 
 
 His stated allowance, however, for this sort of fun was 
 only two hours, for dining at five (five minutes past punc- 
 tually) and receiving conversazione incomers at seven o'clock, 
 afforded no longer time for enjoyment. Sometimes the com- 
 mittee had not quite agreed in opinion when the clock 
 struck, and stopped to finish a bottle and an argument which 
 were not worth adjourning ! 
 
 Then for appetite, that never could fail, for if you happened 
 to disapprove of one of his new dishes you were instantly 
 supplied with a zest from a phial, like that in which attar of 
 roses is contained ; and if three drops did not cure you, you 
 ought to think of making your will. To invent odd things 
 and give them odd names was his special hobby, and of 
 course that sort of fame which is called notoriety waited 
 upon his harmless and whimsical course — under which, as I 
 have observed, there really lay more of talent and useful 
 information than could have been expected from the outward 
 
 A^sC^y^, 
 
( 288 ) 
 
 SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 
 
 MY intercourse with Sir Thomas Lawrence was not inti- 
 mate, but spread over many years, and of that kind 
 which pleasant people call ' ' stretching your legs under the 
 same mahogany." Thence I could form a correct opinion 
 of his mental qualifications and refined manners, of his con- 
 versational gifts, of his polished eloquence when called upon 
 to address the public, and of all the circle of endowments 
 which recommended him to the position he occupied as an 
 ornament to society. 
 
 We often hear of precocious talent. If ever there was 
 an instance of it, Lawrence was born to the Arts. A re- 
 nowned artist-friend of mine, whose children were decidedly 
 prone to the infantile " imitative," was so proud of their 
 hopeful propensities that he used to boast " they were born 
 with pencils in their hands ;" and it was not safe to contra- 
 dict him. Be that assertion as it may, it is certain that 
 Lawrence's aptitude for drawing was as near innate as it is 
 possible for philosophy to penetrate, and that it early ex- 
 panded into cultivation under the auspices of his father. 
 Originally an exciseman, and successively the landlord of 
 the " White Hart," Bristol, where the child-painter first saw 
 the light, and next of the " Black Bear," Devizes, where 
 the boy-painter (uninfluenced by signs of white or black) 
 pursued his calling in tinted crayons, this somewhat singular 
 man finally settled in semi-retirement at Bath. His forte 
 appeared not to lie in the publican line, but he was noted 
 for dramatic readings and recitations ; and his son was not 
 
SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 289 
 
 only clever in the same way, but ever cherished a strong 
 predilection for the stage. It may be, as reported, that he 
 tried it in his youth ; but, at any rate, as an amateur 
 declaimer he was very successful. 
 
 When but seven years of age the boy had attracted con- 
 siderable attention, even among the upper classes, by his 
 productions at Devizes, and soon after, at Bath, had the 
 good fortune to be received as a pupil by Mr. Hoare, then 
 at the height of crayon portrait-painting in that aristocratic 
 and fashionable resort. This style of Art has been super- 
 seded by oil, and, if aught remained, been extinguished by 
 photography ; but during the latter half of last century it 
 was practised with remarkable effect, and many likenesses 
 of distinguished persons of that period bear witness to its 
 capability and extensive employment. To be the pupil of 
 Mr. Hoare was a happy step, for he was a man of exquisite 
 taste, and his works seem to be prototypes of Lawrence's 
 most valued productions. In these the enlightened judge 
 of the various merits and noblest achievements of Art does 
 not recognise the highest grade of power, wonderful handling, 
 or expressive energy ; but from Lawrence, as from his 
 master, we obtain the utmost delicacy, elegance, and refine- 
 ment, so essential to the faithful representation of the beau- 
 tiful and patrician crowd who sought a brief immortality 
 from his easel. His ladies (if possible without flattery) 
 were captivating ; his princes and nobles, gentlemen. But, 
 to return. 
 
 At Bath the juvenile half-crown or crown crayons of 
 Devizes had risen to half-guinea and guinea — the main 
 support of his father and family — and he was only thirteen 
 years old when his copy, in the chalk, of the " Transfigura- 
 tion" of Raphael transported his fame to London. The 
 Sociefy of Arts, by a stretch of its encouragement at that 
 time, specially awarded him its great silver palette, gilt, 
 and no less a sum than five guineas ! He received the 
 honour and fortune at a meeting of the Society, where 
 
 u 
 
290 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Valentine Green, the celebrated engraver, presided ; and lie 
 has been described to me as truly a beautiful, ingenuous, 
 and blushing lad, whose looks and behaviour made an extra- 
 ordinary impression in his favour, and went no small way 
 in promoting the estimation of his talents. 
 
 Only five years after this date — viz., in 1787 — his first 
 performances, -but no fewer than seven, appeared in the 
 Royal Academy's Annual Exhibition ; and so great was the 
 success, that one year saw him moving from Leicester 
 Square into Jermyn Street, and painting, as fast as he could, 
 sitters of high rank and fortune, and even royalty, in the 
 person of one of the princesses. Nor was there any pause 
 in this rapid advance : soon after, in Bond Street, and soon 
 again in Russell Square — rising quickly from A.R.A. to the 
 honour of the President's chair, to which he was at once 
 elected as if by acclamation — over-burthened with com- 
 missions, and covered with the foremost distinctions 
 bestowed on the profession, courted by the high, and 
 admired by the low, feted by the rich, and moving every- 
 where in the most polished society, his career was one of 
 enviable prosperity and gay enjoyment, only enhanced by 
 the labour in which he delighted. The productiveness of 
 that labour was, it is to be regretted, somewhat impaired by 
 an extravagant passion for gems and masterpieces of ancient 
 Art, of which his collection cost many thousand pounds, and 
 led to temporary embarrassment, and his dying compara- 
 tively poor. But it is with pleasure I can add that his 
 generosity to living artists was as honourable to his feelings, 
 and, so far as occasion needed, as encroaching upon his 
 purse, as were his outlays for the chefs-d'oeuvre of old 
 masters and the antique relics of the classic ages. Nor was 
 his benevolent disposition confined to objects belonging, as 
 it were, to his own sphere. His heart was liberal, and his 
 
 hand '' 
 
 " Open as the day to melting charity." 
 
 As all men are ambitious of doing more than they ever 
 
SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 291 
 
 can accomplish, so was Lawrence often tempted, from the 
 restriction of portrait, to essay higher walks of Art ; but 
 his efforts were transitory or incomplete, and I am not 
 aware of any triumph over difficulties and the want of 
 time. In his first year he had a " Mad Girl" among his 
 exhibited pictures ; at later periods he exercised his powers 
 on Milton reading, and Homer reciting his Poems ; but 
 nothing of the immortality of his subjects adhered to his 
 pencil. I think his " Satan" was his greatest success, and 
 it reached no remarkable elevation. The splendid com- 
 mission from the king, George IV., to proceed to the 
 Continent and paint portraits of the illustrious personages 
 who had recently enacted such stupendous feats on the vast 
 theatre of Europe, was the crowning labour of his fame. It 
 afforded him a glorious field for the display of all that his 
 mind could conceive and his capacity organize — all that his 
 eye could detect and his skill embody in faithful resem- 
 blance. And the opportunity was not lost. Many of the 
 portraits are of a superior order to all preceding examples, 
 and those of " Prince Schwarzenberg," " The Pope," and 
 especially " Cardinal Consalvi," so intellectual and admir- 
 ably finished as to raise their delineator to a station not far 
 below the topmost range of Reynolds, Vandyck, or Velas- 
 quez. I believe the three pictures I have named were 
 remunerated each at £2,000 by the Royal Patron, with 
 whom the artist was an esteemed personal favourite, and 
 upon whose own portrait, for the Athenaeum Club, he 
 wrought within thirty hours of his death ; so true was he to 
 his motto, Loyal a la mort. It was on the floor of bis 
 painting-room that he was found dead, and looking calm 
 and placid as in the pleasantest moment of his life. 
 
 That life, upon the whole, had been prosperous and 
 pleasant beyond the measure accorded to most men. He 
 was at the head of his profession ; the lesser drawbacks to 
 which I have alluded were little more than drops of acid to 
 enhance the flavour of the sweets; and from five-shilling and 
 u 2 
 
292 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 half-guinea crayons he had attained to six-hundred-pound 
 whole -lengths (perhaps little more than the head and atti- 
 tude, to be filled up by Mr. Simpson), three hundred at 
 Coutts's on the first sitting. This was gratifying "business;" 
 and, besides his natural temperament, which inspired kind- 
 liness and contentment in the ordinary run of affairs, either 
 as regarded himself or others, he was endowed with many 
 minor qualities which, rightly employed, tend greatly to 
 enhance the enjoyment of life. He tried no tuneless hand 
 upon poetry and music. In the former he was reserved in 
 showing his slight productions even to his closest intimates, 
 and they aimed at nothing above the class of verses written 
 by educated men at ease — Lawrence being only self- 
 educated, and owing his poetic fancies to his intercourse 
 with highly-cultivated society, which brought individuals and 
 incidents within the compass of passion or feeling. In 
 music he was well versed, and an ardent admirer of its 
 fascinations. 
 
 But I must now drop the curtain on one who, blest with 
 yet higher attributes of genius and mind, could still be 
 described in the line as 
 
 " Pleasantest of pleasant men," 
 
 and who, nevertheless, was not without the serious thought- 
 fulness and reverential awe which became a moral being 
 looking forward to a future. It is not within my province 
 to dilate on this fact, but I feel myself obliged to state it, 
 because I might otherwise fear that my traits of the trifling 
 and unimportant might convey a false impression of the 
 character I have so lightly sketched. 
 
 His death, as I have mentioned, was sudden. On the 
 Saturday he had met a social company at Sir Robert Peel's ; 
 became indisposed, and was bled ; attended to his usual 
 occupations and went abroad on the Monday, Tuesday, 
 and Wednesday ; and on the Thursday afternoon was no 
 
SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 293 
 
 more. His death caused a great sensation, and he was 
 much and generally regretted. A public funeral ended his 
 earthly honours ; and some time after, his collection of 
 drawings and other precious memorials of the Fine Arts 
 were sold by Mr. Woodburn, and realized probably as much 
 as they cost. They are dispersed all over the world, and in 
 many places can be identified as companions to Lawrence's 
 innumerable portraits. Sic transit gloria mundi. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 I was at Bromley with Lord Farnborough, and at break- 
 fast, when the news of the President's death was suddenly 
 communicated. The shock was very great. He was on the 
 most intimate terms with both Lord and Lady Farnborough 
 — the former one of the finest judges and most zealous patrons 
 of art in the kingdom — and the latter one of the most accom- 
 plished amateur artists. His elegant manners, his many 
 accomplishments, his excellent qualities, and his professional 
 talent were the themes that could not be departed from all 
 that day ; and the next, I found the society I met in London 
 full of posthumous praises and regrets. I find among my 
 letters at this period one from the poet Campbell, in which the 
 choice of the successor to Sir Thomas is mooted. He writes, 
 " You must already have heard the melancholy news of the 
 death of the President of the Royal Academy, and by my 
 own feelings I judge of yours, namely, that you must have 
 been stunned and afflicted with the intelligence. A character 
 of Lawrence will no doubt be drawn up by you, in your 
 publication, worthy of the subject. In the mean time, as 
 you are a friend to genius and to merit, will you allow me 
 to recommend to you to notice to the public, as I mean to 
 do myself, a man fit to be regarded by the public as a sue- 
 
294 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN 
 
 cessor to Lawrence in his own art, and let me beg of you in 
 the name of his own merits to recommend our common 
 friend Pichersgill ; — unless I am egregiously mistaken, 
 Pickersgill stood and stands next to Lawrence as a classical 
 English artist." The writer proceeds to speak truly of Mr. 
 Pickersgill's " modest merits," and his excellent character in 
 private life ; but the Royal Academy made another choice, 
 and from among the eligible candidates in their body 
 selected Sir Martin Shee to be their chief. JSTor could their 
 preference be impugned. Without insisting upon the 
 highest standing in the native school of arts as an absolute 
 requisite — for the possession of other qualities are essential 
 to the adequate fulfilment of all the duties belonging to the 
 office — the* Academy found in Sir M. Shee a man of great 
 literary talent, of eminent reputation in portrait painting, 
 very eloquent, and, in short, as Lawrence was a fine specimen 
 of the English, so was he of the Irish gentleman ; and so, 
 perhaps I might now add, is the present President, of the 
 same Scottish rank, and also by birth as well as genius. 
 No doubt, our "tried " Pickersgill was well worthy of the 
 distinction ; but I can only have the satisfaction of hailing 
 him yet — at this late hour ! — as living respected and 
 honoured, and still able to exercise his pencil without it. 
 
 There was one point occurring in our common intercourse 
 on which it was my hap to differ from, indeed to have some 
 sharp dispute with, Sir Thomas. I allude to his extreme 
 dislike to Harlowe. I do not know if any particular cause 
 of offence had been given, but the resentment was strong, 
 and as though engendered by unreasonable prejudice. 
 Harlowe approached too near the throne to be much liked ; 
 but, at all events, his strange affectations (casually assumed 
 for the oddest of effects) were not sufficient to account for 
 what I may truly designate as the President's antipathy to 
 the greatly gifted and rising artist, who had studied under 
 him and made him his graceful model in all his earliest 
 productions. 
 
SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 295 
 
 Of Sir Thomas's predilection for the drama and its repre- 
 sentatives I have spoken at the outset of his life. His 
 devoted admiration of Mrs. Siddons might be considered the 
 climax of the latter ; his frequent performance in private 
 theatricals a proof of his continued attachment to the former. 
 Sheridan declared that Lawrence was the best amateur actor 
 he ever saw. In 1803 he performed in a dramatic fete 
 given by the Marquis of Abercorn, where Sheridan witnessed 
 his Lord Rakeland in the " Wedding Day," and Grainger in 
 "Who's the Dupe 1 " The Prince of Wales, too, was present, 
 and pronounced the admired actor to be also " the perfect 
 gentleman." I believe Lord Melbourne was one of the 
 dramatis personam Lord Abercorn was an early and stanch 
 friend to the artist. A hundred years ago the most 
 ludicrous tragedy of ' ' Chrononhotonthologos " was pro- 
 duced, and at the Haymarket 
 
 " Supine within his tent, from toils of war, 
 The hero gently unfatigued himself;" 
 
 whilst the other hero, viz. Aldeborontiphoscofornio strutted 
 and bellowed on the stage ; and it was revived and played 
 before Garrick the year preceding his death. No wonder 
 it had a claim on the recognition of Lawrence. At Wynn- 
 stay, the noble seat of his friends the Wynns, where amateur 
 acting was carried on for forty years, he took a foremost 
 share and part in getting up aud performing in the laughable 
 burlesque. I have heard that his performance was first rate 
 and immensely applauded ! Shee wrote a tragedy, and 
 learned from the criticisms which assailed it that it was a 
 much more agreeable thing for a P. R. A. only to play in 
 one. Both have finished their exits and their entrances, 
 and other actors fill the busy scene. — Vale ! 
 
 Trusting that every little particular relating to an artist 
 like Lawrence may possess a sufficient popular interest, I 
 proceed to add a few matters which have come under my 
 
296 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 observation since the word " vale " was written. Among 
 the patrons of his childhood promise at Devizes were Sir 
 Thomas Falconer and Dr. Falconer, an F. R, S., and of 
 literary good report. He painted both their portraits ; and it 
 is worthy of remark, as regards predilections engendered in 
 early years, that the latter, engaged in promoting the great 
 new edition of Milton at that time, used to invite the boy 
 Lawrence to recite selected passages ; and that, to the last, 
 Lawrence was fond of reciting these lines. Indeed, I have 
 little doubt that his grand efforts with Milton reading 
 his Poems, and Satan, as subjects for painting, sprang 
 from the inspiration of such pristine impressions on his 
 plastic mind. His recitations, when prevailed upon to give 
 them in later life, were admirable, and even in boyhood they 
 must have been extraordinary. It is also curious that in a 
 youthful portrait of himself in pencil there is a singular 
 resemblance to the portrait of Milton, with his hair parted 
 and hanging down on each side of the face. In reality, 
 Lawrence at first sight struck you as having some likeness to 
 Canning. He had, in certain form and features, but on 
 close comparison it disappeared or became at best a rather 
 effeminate and distant resemblance. The fascinations of 
 female loveliness for his pencil were soon evident. Eve's 
 fairest daughters had no hike-warm worshipper in him. I 
 have now before me the head and bust of a young female or 
 nymph, with downcast eyes (oval, about 5 in. by 3 in.), done at 
 Salisbury, before he appeared in London, and it is a charming 
 drawing, and quite a type of what he might hereafter achieve 
 in such beautiful portraits as that of Lady Blessington. The 
 hair is especially luxuriant and remarkable (as the whole is) 
 for delicacy of handling and finish. Near beside me, too, 
 are specimens of his earliest productions ; and among the rest 
 a caricature — loyal of course — i.e., John Bull playing at 
 billiards with a meagre Frenchman, and having by far the 
 best of the game. One of the best pictures of his early day, 
 in coloured chalk, is, I believe, at Oteley, Shropshire, the 
 
SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. 297 
 
 seat of Mr. Townshend Main-waring, the member for Denbigh. 
 — whose father it represents. In all, grace, taste, feeling, 
 and touch are delightfully conspicuous. 
 
 And what were they to accomplish ! A lady in London 
 can show a letter from the young painter when he had been 
 two years settled in the metropolis, acknowledging an obli- 
 gation to one of the friends I have mentioned at Devizes, 
 and assuring him of its successful usefulness ; for in due 
 time, says the writer, " I shall be President of the Royal 
 Academy." 
 
( 298 ) 
 
 SIR JAMES MACINTOSH. 
 
 AT no period of English history were political ter- 
 giversation and corrcqjtion carried to a more scandalous 
 pitch than during the last half of the past century. The 
 epoch of the Revolution, with all its political double-deal- 
 ing, the party intrigues of the first, and even the undisguised 
 venality of the second quarter of the century, had something 
 redeeming in their objects and effrontery, when comj^ared 
 with the utter profligacy and baseness of the latter scheming 
 era. Corrupting, plotting, betraying, defrauding, plunder- 
 ing, selling soul and body to dishonour and bribery, were 
 the concomitants of mock patriotism and dissoluteness, 
 beyond the possibility of decent language to describe. A 
 crisis had arrived. Human patience could endure no 
 farther. Unhappily, in France the reaction destroyed itself 
 in bloodshed and horrors more atrocious and terrible than 
 the evils, however oj)pressive and grievous, against which 
 the hostility was at its commencement provoked. A few 
 years of demon abominations and desolating fury dispelled 
 the illusion into which the glowing principles and prospects 
 of universal progress had plunged so many speculative and 
 enthusiastic minds ; but the time was hardly come for the 
 votaries to confess that if the disease was afflicting, the 
 remedy was murderous. 
 
 At this inauspicious epoch, distinguishing hirnself by his 
 superior talents from his associate ranks, rose Sir James 
 Mackintosh ; well educated, intended for the medical pro- 
 fession, but relinquishing it for the study of law, and (for a 
 
SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 299 
 
 season) the law itself leaving, in order to devote himself to 
 a political career. Before the " Edinburgh Review " con- 
 stellation appeared, he had come to London, and besides 
 contributions to the " Courier " newspaper (to whose pro- 
 prietor he was nearly related), wrote or assisted in several 
 publications advocating the cause of the French democracy. 
 The crown of this pamphleteering was his celebrated 
 " Vindiche Gallicse," a defence of the Revolution, in which 
 he measured strength with no less formidable an adversary 
 than Edmund Burke. The great ability displayed in this 
 work attracted much attention, and it must be presumed 
 led to some patronage, and a different direction of the 
 powers of the applauded author. He lectured on the 
 British constitution as professor at Lincoln's Inn ; he pro- 
 nounced the famous defence of Peltier for a libel on 
 Buonaparte in the "Anibigu" journal; and was appointed 
 to the Becordership of Bombay. This office was with some 
 difficulty squeezed from the king, who, when assured of the 
 change in Mackintosh's views, yielded with the shrewd 
 remark, " A man may be allowed to change his opinions, 
 never his principles." On his return from India, where he 
 j)erforcned good service to literature, he was elected into 
 parliament and joined the Opposition, with Lord Lansdowne 
 and the other leaders with whom he was ever after con- 
 nected ; holding office, however, also under the too brief 
 administration of Mr. Canning, who had forgiven, if he had 
 not forgotten, his painful vote against him on the Lisbon 
 mission question. But politics furnish no lines for my 
 sketches, and I only introduce so much of the public man, 
 in order to serve as a back-ground to the traits of private 
 portraiture. 
 
 Mackintosh was an indolent being. On his sofa in 
 Cadogan Place he would repose in loose attire all the fore- 
 noon, take his quiet ride round Hyde Park, and then to 
 the House, wherein he spoke seldom ; but he made himself 
 a name for ever by his movement for the reform of the 
 
300 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 criminal laws, and the admirable eloquence with which he 
 supported it. When we reflect on the prodigal and disgust- 
 ing waste of life which made almost every week a saturnalia 
 in London, we cannot be too grateful to those who exerted 
 themselves so zealously to free us from those degrading and 
 depraving executions, when a Dr. Dodd and a burglar, 
 and ten or more wretched men and women at one time, 
 would make a morning "holiday" show to excite a brutal 
 mob. 
 
 But the most extraordinary endowment of Mackintosh 
 was his prodigious memory. From the deepest reading in 
 his library and most learned researches, to the merest 
 temporary relaxations, even to the last new poem or novel 
 when enjoying his sofa relief, he seemed to forget nothing. 
 The classic and philosophical lessons of his youth, the com- 
 prehensive literary attainments of his riper years, and the 
 cream of his later amusements, were all stored as in a 
 museum of enormous extent and endless variety, and could 
 be referred to and brought forth at pleasure. The charm of 
 his conversation was consequently unrivalled ; it was like 
 that of no other man I have ever known, or, I should 
 rather say, that no man I have ever known could in this 
 respect compare with him. Quote, for example, a remark- 
 able line or expression in Dante : he would on the instant 
 recall its prototype in a Greek or Roman author, its resem- 
 blance in Shakespeare, or Milton, or Schiller, or Racine, or 
 Pope, or some obscure writer at home or abroad, of all ages 
 and in all countries. The exhibition was wonderful. Porson 
 alone, with reference especially to the poets of Greece and 
 the thousand reflections of their thoughts and images, came 
 in that measure into competition with the more general 
 though less profound illustrative powers of Mackintosh. 
 He was strongly formed, and looked like a Scot ; and for 
 any other countryman, when he opened his lips, he could 
 not be mistaken. HLs " History of England" did not 
 sustain his reputation ; but his " Discourse on the Law of 
 
SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 301 
 
 Nations and Nature," his political pamphlets, and his 
 numerous contributions to the " Edinburgh Review," fully 
 warrant the elevated station, for penetrating judgment, deep 
 inquiry, and masterly reasoning, which contemporary admi- 
 ration assigned to him with one accord. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 I have very little to add to this meagre outline. My 
 acquaintance with Mackintosh led principally to his literary 
 pursuits, and those it was easy to see were paralysed by a 
 constitutional indolence, not animated into action by his 
 residence in Bombay. Thus his " History of England" lan- 
 guished, and 
 
 " Like the story of the bear and fiddle, 
 Began but broke off in the middle ; " 
 
 and his " History of the Revolution," published posthu- 
 moiisly, did nothing to elevate his memory, even near to the 
 standard of his earlier and able works. In public speaking his 
 voice was rather harsh and dissonant ; and it was only the 
 subtilty of his reasoning, and the force of his argument, 
 which obtained for him the listening ear of the Commons 
 whenever he addressed them. Without such encourage- 
 ment he would, in all probability, have sat in the House a 
 dumb member ; for I recollect a striking passage of his : 
 " Though struggle with calamity strengthens and elevates, 
 the necessity of passive submission to long adversity is 
 rather likely to weaken and subdue it." 
 
 One ponders over an opinion like this, and, on the meet- 
 ing of a new Parliament, may endeavour to apply it to 
 the candidates who may seek to reach an envied place. 
 Who will be able to struggle against the calamity of slights, 
 
302 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 so killing in that assembly, and not sink into passive sub- 
 mission, remains to be seen. The working out of the 
 question will exhibit some curious and rather interesting 
 spectacles to amuse if not to instruct the electors who sent, 
 and the country who has accepted, these untried athletes 
 for combat in the popular arena ! 
 
 /foostflM^zfo t ^ 
 
( 303 ) 
 
 SIR JOHN MALCOLM. 
 
 Op few of the men whom T have known have I a more 
 pleasing remembrance than of Sir John Malcolm. He rose 
 from middle station by merit, to very high rank ; he was 
 distinguished from first to last in his arduous career, by 
 indefatigable devotedness to his difficult duties ; he shone as 
 a soldier on many momentous occasions, and as a diplo- 
 matist of admirable judgment and consummate address ; 
 his works as an author augmented the national value of his 
 military and political services ; throughout all he was 
 respected and honoured ; when he died, the universal 
 regret was only mitigated by the reflection that he had nobly 
 fulfilled his allotted task, leaving a memory to 
 
 " Smell sweet and blossom in the dust." 
 
 In person, Sir John Malcolm was of such presence as 
 gives the world assurance of a man. In manner, he was 
 frank, open, and cordial. Brave in battle, sage in council, 
 prompt and decisive in action, he was in private life and 
 society one of the most unaffected and agreeable of com- 
 panions. His good humour was an unceasing fountain, and 
 it was a delight to spend an hour with him, in which he 
 would, in quick transition, pass from instructive lessons of 
 wisdom and experience on the gravest subjects to the play- 
 fulness of a child. His was, indeed, a happy constitution, 
 powerful and gentle, manly and unassuming, rich in in- 
 tellectual endowments, yet sparkling with natural talent. 
 
304 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 The sons of a small Scottish laird and farmer, John and 
 Pulteney Malcolm (the gallant admiral to whose brilliant 
 exploits his grateful country bears testimony by a monument 
 in St. Paul's Cathedral) were born at Burnfoot, their 
 father's residence, in a rural and semi-wild district near 
 Langholme on the Border, among men of pleasant Teviot- 
 dale, as pacific now as if their ancestors had never listened 
 to the bugle horn, nor heard the fearful war-cry or slogan 
 of the unsparing foray. Yet there is something in blood, 
 something in tradition. - The ethnologist may easily trace 
 the ancient spirit of the race in many of their descendants ; 
 and it is curious to remark, even in our own time, the number 
 of heroic names that are descended from the turbulent 
 occupants of the debateable land. As mere boys, the 
 brothers were sent forth, like many of their compatriots, to 
 seek their fortune — Pulteney in the navy, and John, at the 
 age of fourteen, to India. As mine are simply light per- 
 sonal sketches, and not biographies,* I will not enter upon 
 any description of his assiduous acquisition of the languages 
 of the East, and especially of the Persian, "which brought 
 him early into public notice ; nor of his military career, 
 commencing with the siege of Seringapatam, when he was 
 barely of age, and so continuing as to receive the marked 
 approbation of two Governors- General, Lords Corn wallis and 
 Hastings. Ill health brought him home ; but twice again 
 he revisited India in important capacities, and twice he was 
 sent as ambassador to Persia, where he overcame great 
 obstacles by his personal influence and tact, and ultimately 
 concluded a mutually beneficial treaty with the Shah. His 
 judgment was eminently successful in dealing with Scindia 
 and Holkar, when the daring Pindarees threatened our 
 empire ; and when the danger took a tangible form, his 
 abilities and gallantry bore the conflict through to a 
 
 * The Life and Correspondence of Sir John (worthy of the theme) 
 were published by Mr. Kaye, a few years ago. 
 
SIR JOHN MALCOLM. 305 
 
 victorious issue. His last mission was as Governor of 
 Bombay, where he organised many great improvements ; 
 and full of triumph in every department of the State, and 
 after more than thirty years spent in incessant labour of the 
 most exhaustive nature, military, civil, political, literary, 
 and legislative, he returned to enjoy the otium cum dignitate 
 in his native land, where I had intense gratification in 
 renewing my former intimacy with so justly celebrated and 
 esteemed a character. 
 
 Like all truly great men, Sir John Malcolm was simple 
 and unaffected — I would add, and straightforwai'd, although 
 there are so many instances of men considered by the 
 world to be very great, who are nevertheless remarkable for 
 cunning reserve and secret machinations. Be this as it 
 may, he was upright, open-hearted, social, friendly, firm 
 without a semblance of obstinacy, and kindly in all private 
 relations, without the least demonstration of over-sensitive- 
 ness or display. 
 
 I think it was at the time of his second return from India, 
 that he and his brother, both covered with renown, and 
 their fame ringing throughout the realm, journeyed together 
 to see the Burnfoot braes, where their childhood's steps had 
 trodden in "auld lang syne." 
 
 " We twa hae paddled in the burn, 
 And pu'ed the gowans fine, 
 And mony a sea between us row'd 
 Sin' auld lang syne. 
 
 The thought, if not the words, of the song was no doubt 
 in their heads and hearts as they posted down the rough 
 road near Langholme. It was a lovely summer afternoon ; 
 and it so happened that, on coming in sight of their native 
 home, they observed two of their elder female relatives 
 sitting in front of the door, drowsing in the soft sunshine, 
 and knitting away with true housewife industry. It was 
 too much for the feelings of the excited travellers ; the 
 
 x 
 
306 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 bridge was a mile off, and so they leaped from the chaise 
 and dashed through the water ; accoutred as they were, they 
 plunged in, and were in a few moments hugging their dear 
 aunts, as if it were impossible to love them too much. This 
 was the one touch of nature ; after all their toils, dangers, 
 and doings with mankind, it was a single trait, but suggests 
 a charming point for a complete portrait. I recollect the 
 anecdote being laughingly told one day, when Sir John was 
 accidentally wetted in a careless manner. Instead of being 
 annoyed (as most people would have been), he forgot the 
 sousing, turned the story into a joke anent a brother officer, 
 who came back to Edinburgh after twenty years in India, 
 and on mounting to their residence, a flat, found his two 
 aunts seated at a game of draughts, just as he had left them 
 at his departure, and to whom his first greeting was, 
 "What! have you not finished that game yet 1 " Such 
 jocular pleasantries were always ready with Sir John, (as 
 curious anecdotic illustrations were with Sir Walter Scott, 
 quotations from Greek authors and Shakespeare with 
 Porson, remembrances of prodigious reading with Macin- 
 tosh, and something of a similar kind with Macaulay,) and 
 intermingled with his strong sense and large acquaintance 
 with men and things ; such it was that made his conversa- 
 tion so delectable and his society altogether so replete with 
 graceful entertainment and deep interest. There is some- 
 thing inexpressibly pleasing in the familiar relaxations of 
 great authors, poets, statesmen, or other historical cele- 
 brities : their bending to our common pastimes, and, in fact, 
 their own real enjoyment of them, their easy compliance 
 with the requirements of the passing hour, their condescend- 
 ing, as it were, to be one of us, raise us up in self-gratifica- 
 tion towards their level, and, far from lowering themselves, 
 enhance our feeling and teach us to love as well as to admire 
 them more. 
 
 If we now, after the lapse of so many years, refer to his 
 writings, we must not only acknowledge how important 
 
SIR JOHN MALCOLM. 307 
 
 they were at the time, but how valuable they still are for 
 the information they afford, and will be for generations to 
 come. His " Life of Lord Clive," which formed the basis of 
 Macaulay's splendid review in the Edinburgh, is a standard 
 biography of an extraordinary man, who dispelled the awful 
 black-clouded crisis like a lightning flash, overthrew every 
 secret conspiracy and powerful aggression, and, by the sheer 
 force of his genius, saved or rather created a mighty empire. 
 In his steps Malcolm trod, and in a field scarcely less im- 
 portant ; he saved the Mysore, crushed the most dangerous 
 native combinations, and closed the route to Indian invasion 
 through Persia, which must have entailed a war of greater 
 peril and much longer duration. The population of Malwa, 
 and the organization and government of that singular nation 
 the Sikhs, were first made known to us by his pen ; and his 
 sketches of Persia, like his vivd voce descriptions, are pictur- 
 esque and animated, as if his whole life had been devoted to 
 the cultivation of " polite literature." 
 
 Courted by the best society in London, esteemed and 
 respected by all who knew him, decorated and exalted by 
 his sovereign, and honoured by his country, Sir John Mal- 
 colm barely reached his grand climacteric when his health 
 gave way ; the wear and tear of responsible duties, and the 
 sapping of climate, had exhausted the system of the strong 
 and fine-looking Scotch hero. Only a few weeks before his 
 death I saw him, but alas ! — quantum mutatus ab illo Hector e 
 — it was a painful interview, and nearly thirty years have 
 since passed without abating my sincere regret. The con- 
 solation now, as then, which alone can mitigate the public 
 loss, is found in the reflection that, throughout a long and 
 critical period, he served his country zealously, faithfully, 
 and successfully ; that he reaped such reward as was due to 
 his merits ; enjoyed a season (too brief, indeed) of sunny 
 repose from his labours ; and died in peace and resignation, 
 lamented by his friends and mourned by all. 
 
 x 2 
 
308 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 The above was written five years ago, and I am told that 
 an interesting account of Sir John Malcolm has appeared in 
 a Scotch periodical publication. I have not seen it, and 
 will content myself with appending one of his facetious 
 anecdotes, which he was fond of telling when I happened to 
 be in company, and which linked me somehow in pleasing 
 personalities with him, as did also his furnishing me with 
 " Notes on the Pindarees," as material for a review in the 
 Quarterly. The story was of an English traveller benighted 
 on the wilds of Liddesdale, in a stormy winter night. 
 Bewildered and exhausted, he rode about, till at last, in the 
 very agony of despair, he espied a light and found it to 
 proceed from a cottage window in a mean straggling village. 
 After much rapping and shouting, the window was opened, 
 and an old crone looking out inquired who knocked and 
 what was wanted. 
 
 " I am a poor worn-out traveller who have lost my way 
 and am almost dying. If there be any Christians here, for 
 Heaven's sake open and take me in !" 
 
 " Na, na," said the old wife, more than suspicious of a 
 visitor at that unseasonable Border hour — " Na, gang you're 
 gaits, Ave are a' Jardines here ; if ye want Christians they're 
 
 a' to be found sax miles across the moor at . Ye can 
 
 try them ! " 
 
 And down went the window, and out went the light. 
 The fact was that at the other village the residents nearly all 
 bore the clan-name of Christian, while our traveller had 
 unfortunately fallen upon one peopled by the clan Jardine, 
 which was leagued with the Elliots and Armstrongs. 
 
 In alluding to the London festival in honour of The 
 Shepherd (sub voce) I might have expatiated upon a meeting 
 which partook so much of a national and literary character 
 as only to be comparable with the previous commemoration 
 
SIR JOHN MALCOLM. 309 
 
 of Burns, in aid of his monument, presided over by the Earl 
 of Aberdeen. Independently of the excellent Scottish 
 charity, which calls together its patriotic benefactors upon 
 its annual Saint Andrew's day, it was suggested so long ago 
 as by " Johnson's Boswell," enforced at this banquet, and 
 often repeated, before and since, how desirable it was to find 
 siutable occasions for the assemblage of similar gatherings, 
 by which every kindly and generous feeling would be culti- 
 vated, and objects the dearest to humanity and love of 
 country be brought into view and promoted by cordial 
 co-operation. 
 
 The recollection of Sir John Malcolm's admirable adminis- 
 tration of the duties of the Chair, gives great force to this 
 opinion. He was in his element — " up to his work," as one 
 saying has it, or " master of the situation," as another wise 
 aphorism puts it ; and the spirited and discriminating man- 
 ner in which he alternately excited and tempered the 
 enthusiasm of the hour afforded a genial specimen of the 
 talents which had raised his fame so high as an author, a 
 soldier, and a diplomatist. Even now, it may not be unac- 
 ceptable that I should recall a few of the peculiar incidents 
 which occurred at such a meeting above thirty years ago, 
 and ask my readers to rest a thought upon them and the 
 men who were their actors, and endeavour to reconstruct 
 the scene with the men who adorn the present day. I am 
 no laudator temporis acti — the comparison lies in the dif- 
 ference of times and circumstances, and not in the measure 
 of individual capacities either in intellectual endowments, 
 arms, or literature. Only a generation has passed onward. 
 The galaxy of 'thirty -two has given place to the galaxy of 
 'sixty-six. The youth of that festival are now past their 
 prime, and the middle-aged are now nearly all gone. The 
 human wave has swept by, and I mitigate my natural 
 regrets with the hope that I may, with childish affection, 
 snatch a few bonny shells from it to shine upon the sands of 
 Time. 
 
310 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 The memory of Burns was given. His two sons were 
 present, returned from the East with independence and 
 reputation, and the eldest returned thanks ; and it was not 
 a little remarkable that their own fortunate start in life 
 resulted from a similar meeting (see p. 7). 
 
 The English toast-master having first invoked silence for 
 Mr. Shepherd, " the" Shepherd, mounted on a chair, acknow- 
 ledged his toast with rare good sense and naivete, as towards 
 the close of the sitting he mingled bowls of punch (in Burns's 
 treasured bowl, from the sanctum of Mr. Archibald Hastie), 
 and served out to neighbouring applicants with a liberal ladle. 
 
 Lockhart answered for Sir Walter Scott, and (alas!) his 
 happy return ; and told that Burns had met Scott only once, 
 when he was seventeen years old, and yet had observed 
 something (probably connected with his boyish search for 
 ballad lore) which caused him to predict a future distinc- 
 tion for his name. 
 
 The brave admiral, Sir Pulteney Malcolm, was combined 
 with the Navy, and his conduct in the difficulty at St. 
 Helena justly referred to as earning the praise of his prisoner, 
 Napoleon, and the applause of the world. 
 
 Lord Porch ester (Carnarvon) and Sotheby replied for the 
 Poets of England, Lord Mahon (Stanhope) for the His- 
 torians, with a refresher out of Hogg's bowl. 
 
 The gallant and accomplished Sir George Murray was 
 brought forward with the Army, and illustrated a most 
 graceful speech with many apt quotations of Scottish song. 
 He mentioned that Burns had been welcomed at his father's 
 house, and confirmed the statement of the chair, that his 
 sister was the Poet's Phemy than whom 
 
 " A bonnier lass 
 The braes of Yarrow never saw." 
 
 Lord Brougham was given as a Scotchman born, and son 
 of a Scottish mother, a relative of the historian Kobertson ; 
 and English and Scottish law called up Sir John Stuart, our 
 
SIR JOHN MALCOLM. 311 
 
 present admirable Vice-Cliancellor, and Peter Robertson (of 
 infinite humour), afterwards a grave and judicious Lord of 
 Session. John Gait, too, had to bear the brunt of compli- 
 ment for his most characteristic local tales ; but, in short, 
 the Chairman played his part so well that throughout the 
 proceedings of this miscellaneous muster nothing seemed to 
 be neglected, nobody forgotten. The laus a laudato fell 
 forcibly from his lips, and if there had been the Irish element 
 in Moore among the company he might have ended the fete 
 with 
 
 " Doth nofc meeting like this make amends " 
 
 for hundreds of crosses, vexations, and sorrows 1 
 
 Writing of poets, I may mention the beauty of Lady 
 Malcolm as a theme (I believe) for the inspiration of some 
 of the most charming productions of Praed. Lyrists must 
 have their Phenry Murrays ; and a fairer than Lady Malcolm 
 the parks of London never saw. 
 
( 312 ) 
 
 MARTIN, OF GALWAY. 
 
 WERE all my sketches meant to be grave, assuredly I 
 would not have chosen Dick Martin for one of my 
 subjects. Yet he was a notable man, and one likely to be 
 much mistaken in the general estimate made of him ; for his 
 sterling qualities were so embossed with wild humour and fun, 
 that it was no easy matter to form a correct judgment upon 
 his real character. Nor am I about to undertake that task, 
 though some lights must be thrown casually upon my theme, 
 as I call to mind a few of the eccentricities which covered 
 the actual life of this strange phenomenon. Genuine Irish 
 drollery predominating in the composition, it cropped out 
 most luxuriantly in his sayings and doings, and begat the 
 absorbing opinion of his being a sheer madcap, a blundering 
 blade without rational aim, conduct, or capacity. This was, 
 however, a great mistake. No madness had ever more 
 method in it. 
 
 Dick was an impersonation of Lever's " Larry M'Hale : " — 
 
 " Oh, Larry M'Hale, he had little to fear, 
 
 And never could want when the crops didn't fail ; 
 
 He'd a house and demesne, and eight hundred a year, 
 
 And the heart for to spend it, had Larry M'Hale ! 
 
 " It's little he cared for the judge or recorder, 
 His house was as big and as strong as a jail ; 
 With a cruel four-pounder, he kept all in great order, 
 He'd murder the country, would Larry M'Hale. 
 
 " He'd a blunderbuss too, and horse-pistols a pair — " 
 
 If we correct this portrait by reading many thousands of 
 
RICHARD MARTIN, OF GALWAY. 313 
 
 rental for the £800, and adding duelling pistols of the most 
 accurate finish to the inventory of the armour, we shall have 
 a very striking resemblance to the Galwegian hero. And I 
 may here pause to remark how largely such characteristics 
 as are celebrated in this song, not only indicate, but tend to 
 form, the character of a people. Ballad lore has ever and 
 truly been considered in this light. Where you hear little 
 but warlike and patriotic effusions, you justly conclude that 
 the country is proud, and prone to battle. Where hymns, 
 psalmody, and sacred music are much cultivated, you safely 
 infer a religious population. Where amatory lyrics and 
 equivocal inuendo abound, you may rest assured of a sensuous 
 race, addicted to heedless and vicious enjoyments. And so 
 it is throughout. The delight in war is nourished by the 
 feeling displayed in combative strains ; thoughtfulness by 
 the evidence of sacred outpourings ; and vice by the alluring 
 sentiment of love lyrics and romance. Cause and effect 
 react on each other. The ballad embodies the ruling passion 
 of the mature, and engenders similar propensities in the 
 imitative young. In the human being, as in the animal 
 world, the offsj^ring "takes after its kind." 
 
 Now, if we apply this reasoning to Ireland, we must see 
 how deleterious and subversive of law and order too great a 
 proportion of her popular poetry long continued to be, though 
 happily much purified at the present day. When revelry, 
 folly, and recklessness form universal themes of witty ap- 
 plause and beguiling literature, and excesses of every kind 
 are celebrated as national boasts, it is a bad sign of national 
 morale, from the peer to the peasant. If the landed gentle- 
 man can rejoice in the praise of caring nothing for judge and 
 recorder, it is the most natural and certain consequence that 
 the cottier will think less harm of taking wild justice into his 
 own hands, even to the extent of agrarian murder. If the 
 squireen brags of squandering his property in drunken frolics, 
 can we wonder that the Irishman of lower degree, " in all 
 his glory," should rush to Donnybrook Fair " to spend half- 
 
314 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 a-crown, meet a friend, and, for love, 'knock him down, 
 with his sprig of shillelah," or bludgeon ! And this spirit 
 ran riot throughout the land before, and culminated in the 
 era of Dick Martin. All around him were slowly emerging 
 from savagery ; and excess, as the order of the day and night, 
 was an inevitable result. The worst of it was the everlasting 
 brag of the foibles and vices with which society was inflamed, 
 thus perpetuating them from generation to generation. 
 Among these, whisky is the liquor of life, and the bard 
 thus chants its panegyric : — 
 
 " Why do I love you so, 
 When in all our encounters you lay rue low ? 
 More stupid and senseless I every day grow — 
 Tatter'd and torn you've left my coat, 
 Yet I pardon you all, my sparkling doat ! 
 If you'd cheer me again." 
 
 And the curse of intemperance had many a laureate, 
 delighting to applaud bestial revelry ! 
 
 If from drunkenness we pass to outrage and riot, we have 
 still the same stimulating psean. A most favourite air 
 through all ranks runs — 
 
 " We'll break windows, we'll break doors, 
 The watch knock down by threes and fours, 
 Then let the doctors work their cures, 
 And tinker up their bruises. 
 We'll beat the bailiffs out of fun, 
 We'll make the mayor and sheriffs run ; 
 We are the boys no man dares dun, 
 If he regards a whole skin." 
 
 The laudation of lawlessness and violence is contagious ; 
 it is but natural for the population to catch and hug the 
 disorder : — 
 
 " Beating, bellowing, dancing, drinking, 
 Sporting, swearing, never thinking ; 
 Living short but merry lives, 
 Going where the devil drives." 
 
RICHARD MARTIN, OF GAL WAY. 315 
 
 Let it be noted that we are not speaking of the ignorant 
 degraded labouring classes, but of wealthy educated Irishmen, 
 at a time when the influence of civilization was almost unfelt 
 in the land. 
 
 But why pursue the ungrateful task 1 It is not my object, 
 in this episode, to disparage Ireland — far from it, — but to 
 exhibit the period of Martin of Galway, which had its full 
 influence on him, as on all his compatriots, and could be 
 demonstrated as the origin and fertile source of many of the 
 evils that deformed the social system. In different ways, as 
 I have noticed, the lesson is apt for every country, — Show 
 me your common ballad literature and I will tell you what you 
 are. What can be expected from the examples set and sung, 
 where every sentiment is an encouragement to wrong-doing ; 
 where false names are given to every error, and false appear- 
 ances are imposed to veil, if not to gild, every crime ; where 
 abduction is chanted as a proof of passionate love ; where 
 the neat lad (or rather boy, for all Irish desperadoes are 
 " boys " in these verses, and seem to continue so till they are 
 old men) parades his bravery in brawls, and his pluck in 
 faction fights ; where the most worthless extravagance is 
 hailed as noble generosity ■ and where the burial of the 
 dead is profaned by licentious wakes, and even the dreadful 
 execution of criminals is rendered more appalling by demon- 
 strations of braggart mockery or callous indifference 1 So 
 miserable and depraving a beau ideal must tend to wretched- 
 ness and guilt ; and such was far too long and too widely 
 placed for admiration before an extremely sensitive people. 
 In justice let me add that the Irish are equally brave and in- 
 domitable in a good cause, equally affectionate in domestic 
 life, equally truthful and independent where lying and 
 begging have not been begotten and cherished by oppression, 
 poverty, and mischievous example, in lieu of judicious educa- 
 tion; and that, especially with reference to the topics on 
 which I have dilated, the virtue of female character in 
 Ireland stands, probably, highest on the roll of the British 
 
316 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 empire ; and that obscene, or even indecorous song, is 
 scarcely known in the Emerald Isle, whilst other portions 
 of the realm could furnish an incalculable number of such 
 debasing compositions. 
 
 And now this piece of pen-and-ink sketching of the back- 
 ground brings me to my portrait. Richard Martin was 
 born under such circumstances, reared amid such scenes, 
 and, with a mind endowed with great natural vivacity, 
 nurtured into the being he was in his maturer years, by 
 influences which must ever possess great weight in the 
 formation of character. He was accordingly, as may be 
 said, an Irishman all over, and by no means an unworthy 
 type of the Hibernian race. To his humanity and perse- 
 vering efforts we owe the law for the repression and punish- 
 ment of cruelty to animals. It needed the courage and 
 spirit of an Irishman of the right stamp to overcome the 
 obstacles that were opposed to this excellent measure. 
 Arguments were not wanting, but ridicule was at once 
 more annoying and hardly less potential. It was in one of 
 his speeches in the House of Commons upon the subject, 
 that the orator was intemipted by ironical cheers ; but he 
 went on to the end without stop or notice, and when he had 
 finished, stepped quietly across the floor towards the quarter 
 whence the noise had proceeded, and with infinite mildness 
 of manner presumed to ask who it was that cried " Hare, 
 hare !" To an Irish gentleman, and one famous, too, for his 
 skill in the duello, it was no trifle to volunteer a reply to 
 such a question, and the derisive " Hear, hear!" was unac- 
 knowledged — only a member on a back seat pointed slily 
 down to a City representative sitting on the bench below 
 him, and Martin's wrath was instantly appeased. " Oh," 
 he exclaimed, "was it only an alderman?" and, turning on 
 his heel, walked back to his place. 
 
 At that time duelling was everywhere a disgrace to civili- 
 sation, and in Ireland it had become almost a sport to murder 
 men in the " field of honour. " Martin had not been out of fashion. 
 
RICHARD MARTIN, OF GALWAY. 317 
 
 I remember meeting him in a field of another kind — a dinner- 
 party given by an official (an Under - Secretary) to two or 
 three cabinet ministers, and to which the member for Galway, 
 and I, the member for nowhere, but somehow connected 
 with the " cruelty to animals "matter, happened to be invited. 
 We were both rather punctual, and consequently met before 
 dinner-time, and had the reception-room to ourselves for a 
 chat upon the state of " the Bill in the House," and other 
 topics of the day — among the rest, a fatal duel which had 
 just " come off," as the phrase went ; and my companion 
 congratulated himself on having been more fortunate in his 
 little pieces of business — in jiroof of which he opened his 
 frilled shirt, and unbuttoning his white vest, showed me 
 the scars of several pistol-shots, not very pleasant to receive 
 or look at, but nevertheless insufficient to deprive the legis- 
 lature of the useful M. P. whose benevolence has established 
 a name never to be forgotten, so long as a right and humane 
 usage of the brute creation is enforced and cultivated as it 
 ought to be by mankind. Yet the custom of single combat 
 for any slight offence, or no offence at all (happily put down 
 at last), had so familiarised him to the practice, that he 
 appeared to value human life at a lower estimate than the 
 life of a dog or an ass ; and the imminent risk in a duel did 
 not excite any feeling in him so strong as the sight or idea 
 of barbarous treatment of a four-footed soulless creature a 
 mere beast of burden. It is curious how we get hardened 
 and blinded by habit. Dick Martin might have a genuine 
 regard for bipeds as well as quadrupeds ; but it was his 
 special vocation to protect and preserve the latter, and to 
 care surprisingly little for the former, who he thought 
 might take care of themselves. 
 
 I have narrated one of his parliamentary escapades ; 
 another was yet more laughable. A leading morning 
 journal incurred his ire by a report of his speech, and he 
 waited upon the editor for an explanation. The editor 
 stated that it was written by one of the most intelligent and 
 
31S 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 accurate reporters upon his staff, and lie could hardly 
 imagine any, far less any deliberate, intention to mis- 
 represent the honourable gentleman. To this excuse the 
 complainant only replied by pulling a copy of the paper out 
 of his pocket, and indignantly pointing to the obnoxious 
 passage, exclaiming, "Sir, did I ever spake in Italics?" 
 The effect was so ludicrous, that both parties burst into a 
 fit of laughter, and the affair was compromised without 
 rancour or bloodshed.* 
 
 I am not aware whether my next anecdote is equally 
 true and original ; but, as the Italians say, " Se non e" vero 
 e ben trovato," — " If not the truth, it is very like it." 
 With it I shall conclude the facetiae thrown into this sketch, 
 in order to diversify it from the more serious lineaments of 
 the series, and yet, I trust, not inconsistently with my main 
 object, to convey instruction by example, even when I may 
 mingle amusement and jocularity with the concomitant 
 precepts suggested by my various subjects. In my previous 
 quotation from the reckless ballad of " Larry M'Hale," it is 
 recorded that he feared neither judge nor recorder ; and if 
 any other man could safely defy these dispensers of the law, 
 that man was Dick Martin. Possessed of an enormous 
 territory, and a feudal castle in the wilds of Gal way, he was 
 unapproachable by legal process in his domicile, and when 
 abroad, his parliamentary privileges secured his person 
 from disturbance, as his dangerous courage did from offen- 
 sive importunity or threat. He was eccentric in having 
 vast debts, which he only measured hypothetically, and 
 without correct calculation, against a vast domain and 
 untold resources. His numerous tenantry were devoted to 
 him, for he was liberal and congenial ; and they could 
 conceive nothing more worshipful, more exalted, or to be 
 preserved more faithfully from inroad or insult. It may 
 
 * Mr. Byrne, also a worthy Irishman, proprietor and editor of 
 " The Morning Post." 
 
RICHARD MARTIN, OF GALWAY. 319 
 
 readily be conceived that to penetrate to the keep of such a 
 chief, and through the crowd of Iris followers in such a 
 camp, was not a job to be undertaken lightly or without 
 peril. But the ministers of the law are exceedingly 
 peremptory and daring, and on one occasion a process- 
 server (unwarned by the previous Irish example of a fellow 
 underling, compelled not only to swallow the parchment he 
 carried, but to digest the seal attached to it) ventured to 
 wend his way with a process to Oonnemara. He managed 
 to get within hail of the fortress, but was speedily terrified 
 into a hurried retreat, or, as he described it, a run for his 
 life.* 
 
 * Whilst the popular serial, " The Sunday at Home," is devoted 
 by the Religious Tract Society to the inculcation of religious prin- 
 ciples and conduct, " The Leisure Hour," its twin-brother, is ad- 
 dressed to the conveyance of moral instruction, through the pleasant 
 medium of attractive reading, and leading, as it were, to the higher 
 purpose. To my mind the plan is exceedingly judicious. I like the 
 endeavour to realize the poet — 
 
 " Allure to brighter worlds and point the way," 
 
 and have cheerfully tried my skill to contribute to the good work. 
 But est modus in rebus, publications of this definite class require the 
 wise and guarded inspection of a competent editor, to protect them 
 from even slight mistakes not in perfect harmony with their general 
 tone and bearing. Thus it naturally befel that the literal story of 
 the process-server could not with propriety appear from my manu- 
 script. It is very short and ludicrous. 
 
 The gallant bearer of the writ made his approaches as gradually and 
 circumspectly as he could to the giant's castle. But the alarm pre- 
 ceded him, and he met with a reception which proved that the long 
 arm of the law did not, at any rate, extend so far as Connemara. 
 As it was absolutely necessary in order to renew the proceedings 
 that he should make oath to every circumstance that took place and 
 every word that passed, he was produced in court, and, inter alia, 
 swore accordingly : That he, the said Richard Martin, observing 
 him at so many yards' distance, with several of his retainers prowl- 
 ing round as if they would tear him to pieces, stepped out upon the 
 terrace of his castle aforesaid, armed with a loaded blunderbuss or 
 
320 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 With all his eccentricities, Dick Martin was gifted with 
 an abundant fund of sound common sense. His observation 
 was acute, and his conversation agreeable, polite, and enter- 
 taining. Father Mathew has contributed something to 
 rescue the country from the prevailing sin of drunkenness — 
 the Encumbered Estate Act, to liberate a numerous class of 
 the lower population from the crush of pauper landlords and 
 unfeeling middlemen — emigration, to leave room for industry 
 to exercise its energies and prosper — the influx of capital, 
 to provide employment and promote improvement, with 
 regular pay. There is a great ch'ange since the famed 
 Richard Martin was gathered to his ancestors. Would it 
 were more complete ! He was nearly, if not quite, the last 
 of his species — a remarkable, an extravagant, a strange, but 
 not what is commonly called a bad man. His enormous 
 property of thirty miles from his door to the boundary, has 
 passed into the hands of those who have the means, and, I 
 am told, are earnestly engaged in turning their stewardship 
 to beneficent account. Should they (as they might do 
 without being ashamed) erect a conspicuous monument to 
 his memory, I would advise them to engrave the legend, 
 " He was the most determined enemy to cruelty to animals, 
 and the best friend of dumb creation that ever lived." 
 
 Agreeably to the spirit of his country and period, the 
 Lord of Connemara, who borrowed between three and four 
 hundred thousand pounds upon his estate, now reported to 
 be worth double that sum, lived up to the height of its reck- 
 less profusion. Alas ! sad was the end of all. His only 
 daughter, the last of his distinguished i"ace, was reduced to 
 
 other fearful piece of artillery or firearms, and pointing at him, the 
 
 pursuer, did swear by that if he dared to advance one farther 
 
 step, he would blow his soul to , " all which this deponent 
 
 verily believes he would have done ! " 
 
 He luckily made good his retreat, and got away without being 
 roughly handled, for which he had, after all, to thank Mr. Martin's 
 humanity. 
 
RICHARD MARTIN, OF GALWAY. 321 
 
 absolute beggary, and, if my memory does not fail me, died 
 the most piteous death that could befall a woman and a 
 wife, untended and unassisted, on board a miserable small 
 vessel, in which she was taking her passage to another 
 hemisphere. The fate of the house is a romance too long 
 to dwell on now, and Richard Martin's name serves only to 
 point a moral on reckless living, or to adorn a sensation tale 
 of " the vicissitudes of families." 
 
 I regret that I have not been able to find an auto- 
 graph of R. Martin. He never challenged me. If he 
 had, I might never have written this ! But I cannot 
 look about me without seeing his hand everywhere, and 
 recognizing not only the vast amount of miseries from 
 which he has rescued the animal world, but the vicious 
 degradation of humanity in the reckless or savage usage of 
 the brute creation. I fancied there might be an example 
 of his signature among the archives of the merciful 
 Society, founded on his most righteous principle, and wrote 
 to the secretary (if so) to solicit a tracing ; but, an author, 
 I presume, not being an animal, or at least deserving of 
 sympathy, I have received no answer ; and my old friend 
 has lost a tribute I wished to pay to his memory, and gratify 
 the lovers of these characteristic traits. 
 
( 322 ) 
 
 ARCHDEACON NAEES. 
 
 MAN casts a retrospect over his past life ; and however 
 incessantly its concerns may have pressed, and how- 
 ever busily he may have devoted himself to them, he will 
 find himself but one of the multitude who, if occupied with 
 earthly pursuits alone, have to exclaim, omnia vanitas! 
 The precious time has been wasted — this world's works and 
 plans must be broken off unfinished ! The ardent sacrifice!' 
 to literary labours, and projector of literary designs, affords 
 a very striking example of this truth. None more so. 
 Excepting, perhaps, the one in a thousand, productions of 
 sterling value for future ages, the most popular successes 
 last for a generation at most. The book-drudge, who never 
 emerges from the bondage of compilation ; the poet, well 
 gifted with all but genius ; the scholar of good education 
 and general talent ; the temporary essayist and illustrator 
 of passing circumstances ; the sensation novelist, scantdy 
 acquainted with society, and ignorant of the springs of 
 human action; the acrobats of the periodical press, whose 
 clever aim it is — individually or in cliques — to keep them- 
 selves continually before the public ; all Lave their little 
 day, and pass away, to be heard of no more. We look 
 around for the permanent, almost in vain. But our sight 
 is blinded by the enormous profusion of what is termed light 
 literature, which fills the air, and drifts away from our 
 transient glance into the misty void ; or, we attempt to lift 
 the heavier products of the press, most of which fall from 
 over-laden hands, prone to a kindred soil, and are speedily 
 
ARCHDEACON STARES. 323 
 
 trodden into the quagmire of oblivion. Some of such things 
 might be more noticeable and a little longer lived in former 
 times, when the supply was not so superabundant, nor the 
 rapidity of sequence so bewildering ; but as it is, we can 
 hardly snatch the minutes, to enable us to observe the 
 bubbles as they rise, or the froth that disappears before it 
 can be stared at ; and as for the grosser ventures (as above 
 remarked), most of them sink down at once, down fathoms 
 beneath ken, before even sheer curiosity can examine them. 
 My friend Archdeacon Nares, belonging to the preceding 
 generation, might also have belonged to one of these classes, 
 and most of his literary toil has perished ; but he fortunately 
 compiled a dictionary, the interest and merits of which will 
 transmit his name with honour to a late posterity. In this 
 " Glossary " he approved himself a diligent inquirer and ac- 
 complished scholar, and its recent new edition, edited by J. 
 O. Halliwell and T. Wright, is an invaluable treasure of 
 critical literature and research, and a copious guide to the 
 due understanding of the elder schools of " English authors, 
 particularly of Shakespeare and his contemporaries." Upon 
 this pedestal his statue will stand, while the images of many 
 who have followed in his steps, in other respects, shall have 
 faded like the visions of the night. He contributed a good 
 deal to theological discussion, and was eminent as a critic. 
 In the former he was temperate, though firm in his opinions, 
 and moderate in his language ; and that is all I need indicate 
 in this place : for the latter he was astute and discriminating, 
 honest in stating his grounds for praise or censure and im- 
 partial in his judgments. In conjunction with Mr. Beloe, 
 he commenced the " British Critic" in 1793, and was long 
 its principal editor ; and it may be recorded for the benefit 
 of living reviewers, that when he relinquished his task, he 
 wrote, " I am heartily glad to be rid of a work always re- 
 sponsible and never thanked." The art of true criticism is, 
 indeed, both laborious and difficult. Few come up to the 
 standard laid down by PJumer Ward (another of the marked 
 Y 2 
 
324 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 men I have known) : "As the judge in law pronounces 
 sentence with dignity, and can never be personal without 
 lowering his character, so the judge of authors can never call 
 names without forfeiting his judicial function." It were 
 well if this were more thought of, and the public might 
 escape much of the crude nonsense, ambitious verbiage, 
 and partial flattery or unjust abuse (as the case may be, 
 chosen for either vehicle), with which it is gulled or bored 
 from so many sources of silly or prejudiced opinion. And, 
 apropos to the word as explained in Nares' " Glossary," we 
 learn that " critick means a piece of criticism, now called 
 a critique. Also the art of criticism itself. The alteration 
 of this word took place very lately. Dryden wrote it 
 critick ; Pope adopted the new orthography, but preserved 
 the old accent, which I believe was the practice of his 
 time — ■ 
 
 ' But you with pleasure own your errors past, 
 And make each day a critique on the last.' " 
 
 In his Elements of Orthoepy, the author has treated this 
 and other cognate topics more fully, and set the useful 
 literary example which Dean Trench so ably followed and 
 enlarged upon. 
 
 In early life, after leaving Oxford with distinction, Mr. 
 Nares was engaged as tutor in the eminent Welsh family of 
 the Wynns, with the chiefs and scions of which he main- 
 tained intimate and friendly relations to the end of his life. 
 Still earlier, in his boyhood and adolescent years, he had 
 been brought up among the intellectual associates of his 
 father, the learned and celebrated musical doctor, whose 
 genius recommended him to the highest positions in his 
 profession, including royal patronage, as organist and com- 
 poser to his Majesty George III. ; and from the habits and 
 manners hence acquired in his youth, there resulted a most 
 agreeable impersonation of what we moderns designate as 
 " of the old school " — a little formal, without formality ; a 
 
ARCHDEACON NARES. E25 
 
 little reserved, though freely outspoken ; docile, yet firm ; 
 amiably tolerant, ever polite and courteous, and captivating 
 in conversation and daily intercourse ; pouring the elements 
 of comprehensive learning into charmed and listening ears, 
 without the slightest affectation or display. Twelve years 
 spent as librarian in the manuscript department of the 
 British Museum helped to heap up the measure of a career 
 which was completely literary, and set him high among his 
 compeers as an ornament to the class. His scholarship was 
 evinced in the various lines to which he turned his attention 
 and devoted his pen. As a clergyman, his piety was sincere 
 and unostentatious, and as a critic his views were pene- 
 trating and astute ; but his main strength lay in classical 
 literature and philology. Upon the latter especially he was 
 a great and leading authority ; and his public works show 
 his mastery of the subject in several of its most perplexing 
 branches. Above all, his taste was nicely refined. In the arts, 
 as in the qualities of literary style, composition, and effect, 
 his opinions were entitled to the utmost deference ; and, in 
 personal contact with him, his delicacy, amounting to 
 fastidiousness, was often amusing. Whilst throwing his 
 clear light upon the obsolete language and customs of the 
 sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, it was curious to see 
 him examining the data, and shrinking, as it were, with 
 inborn modesty from every vulgar phrase or indecorous 
 allusion. There was an innate purity about him, which 
 forbade his too close investigation of any point from which 
 he was at once repelled by its obvious coarseness or in- 
 decency. He reformed, whatever it was that the inquiry 
 referred to, altogether ; and his very miscellaneous writings 
 do not present a single trait of thoughtless license hi drawing 
 a faithful picture of the literature of the Elizabethan age. 
 This literature was much and often blotted by the iitter- 
 ance of licentiousness — not repugnant to the manners and 
 feelings of the period, though " intolerable and not to be 
 endured " in our haj)pily more circumspect and modest age. 
 
326 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 In short, he was a gentleman in every sense of the word, 
 and the cynosure of a wide circle of admiring and attached 
 friends. Indeed, he was most estimable in all social rela- 
 tions. Simply attentive, or lively and intelligent, or grave 
 and instructive, as occasion required, he was a companion of 
 multiform attractions. In company with such men as the 
 learned Bishop Burgess, Dr. Gray bishop of Bristol, Douce, 
 Isaac d'Israeli, Baber, Macintosh, and others of like high 
 stamp, he shone among the foremost. Thus he wore away 
 thirty-six years in harness ; was one of the founders of the 
 Boyal Society of Literature ; and, preserved in health of 
 body and peace of mind till near the end, he departed, in 
 the year 1829, aged seventy-five, deeply deplored by every 
 human being who had enjoyed the privilege to know and 
 commune with him on any terms of personal intimacy. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 An estimable gentleman, whom learning did not spoil in 
 the least for the business and courtesies of ordinary life, is 
 the character I ha"ve attempted to draw of Archdeacon 
 ISTares ; and in regard to such, it is certain there is not 
 much to be dwelt upon and elaborated into a full-length 
 picture with every lineament distinctly made out. His 
 ministration in the pulpit and his literary works (which 
 filled a marked contemporary area) were his life and like- 
 ness. 
 
 Among them his Elements of Orthoepy obtained consider- 
 able public attention, but it is more within my province to 
 notice the curious* fact that, though educated in so different 
 a school and ordained for so different a career, he, like Sir 
 Thomas Lawrence, evinced a strong liking for the drama, 
 Eor the amateur stage at Wyunstay, he wrote prologues, 
 
ARCHDEACON NARES. 327 
 
 epilogues, and I believe slight pieces, many years before the 
 President of the Royal Academy acted there ; and one of 
 his minor published productions was " Remarks on the 
 favourite Ballet of Cupid and Psyche, with some account of 
 the Pantomime of the Ancients." 
 
 But the leaning of mind in this direction was more 
 clearly demonstrated in his principal performance the 
 Glossary, of which it is not too much to state that it is 
 " the best and most useful work we possess for explaining 
 and illustrating the obsolete language, and the customs and 
 manners of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and is 
 quite indispensable to the readers of the literature of the 
 Elizabethan period." * But it is, besides, exceedingly 
 amusing : a sort of Dictionary you take up to consult, and 
 can hardly help continuing to read. I copy one of its defi- 
 nitions. " Nare, s. A nose ; from nares, the nostrils, 
 Latin. A word never much in use, nor at all except in a 
 jocular way of affectation. 
 
 ' For yet no nare was tainted, 
 Nor thumb nor finger to the step acquainted.' 
 
 B. Jons. Epig., 134, p. 288, Wh. 
 
 ' There is a Machiavelian plot, 
 Though every nare olfact it not.' 
 
 Hudibr. I. i. 742. 
 
 It is fortunate for me that the word was never common, as 
 it would have exposed my name to many bad puns. 
 
 ' Between the mouth and eyes the expanded nare 
 Doth carnal with spiritual things compare.' 
 
 Owen's Epigrams, 1677." 
 
 I should remark that this last quotation, is one of the many 
 additions made by the able Editors to the recent Edition. 
 In the office of Editor of the British Critic for many 
 
 * New edition, 2 vols., 8vo. Edited by J. 0. Halliwell and T. 
 Wright. J. E. Smith. 
 
328 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 years, he prefaced every volume with a resume of the 
 antecedent period, and I take the opportunity for recalling 
 the fact to memory, and pointing out a store of matter for 
 use in any research towards producing a complete history 
 of the literature of the country during that era. 
 
 For the rest, as people say, I conclude with an epigram 
 on himself, though it has already been printed from my 
 manuscript. 
 
 " Time has not thinned my flowing hair, 
 Nor laid my aged temples bare ; 
 But he has played the barber's part, 
 And powdered me with wondrous art, 
 Meaning, no doubt, to let me see, 
 He thinks to make more dust of me ; 
 But let him know that on a day, 
 God will re-animate this clay, 
 And life unchangeable will give, 
 When Time himself shall cease to live ! " 
 
 O^—g^r 
 
( 329 ) 
 
 JAMES PEERY. 
 
 THE "Morning Chronicle" has gone the way of all 
 periodicals, at least of all those of my young days, ex- 
 cept the " Gentleman's Magazine," which, from its ancient 
 fortalice of St. John's Gate, still sends forth regxilarly its 
 fresh and nutritive pabulum for the children of letters. Yet 
 wonderfully is the press changed since the daring Sylvanus 
 Urban, gent, first looked out of his window in Charter 
 House-square, on publishing day, in the hope of catching 
 a customer.* How changed the tone, functions, pretensions, 
 powers, comprehension, and influence of the press ! The 
 little candle that cast its useful rays on darkling corners has 
 become a universal illumination, in which good deeds shine 
 and dark deeds are dragged to light all over the world ; and 
 there can be no denial of the general good results to human 
 kind. 
 
 In the grand progress towards this condition of things, 
 James Perry and the " Chronicle " played a conspicuous 
 part. The " Chronicle " was the daily organ of the great 
 Whig party, and he was its owner and editor. And I re- 
 mark that editors of popular and influential journals in 
 those days were also as different as their publications from 
 the same class of persons at the present time. There were 
 not so many of them, and popular attention was concen- 
 trated on the few " noticeable men." The principals were 
 more seen by the busy and political world in the needful, 
 active intercourse that belonged to their occupation. The 
 
 * A fact. 
 
330 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 spirit and object of the editor were also dissimilar to those 
 which are now most signally proclaimed. They bid less for 
 the voices of the multitude in a commercial sense, as a source 
 of circulation and profit, than they laboured to win them to 
 their own opinion for the service of the party whose policy 
 they upheld. It is a matter of course that, to be successful, 
 the newspaper must always please the people, and, as a 
 fitting adjunct, assert its own disinterestedness and indepen- 
 dence. But in elder times this was not so ostensibly done, 
 and it seemed more as if the design were to rally the country 
 around a particular standard than (whilst prompting and 
 guiding all the while) to exhort the public to judge for it- 
 self. The greatest journal of our own day, "The Times," 
 professes to be only the mouth-piece and exponent of public 
 opinion. 
 
 The former was the state of the press when James Perry 
 flourished — one of the warmest partizans, one of the most 
 zealous agents, and one of the most efficient instruments of 
 the powerful party to which he swore allegiance — the party 
 of Charles Fox and Tierney, Sheridan, Ponsonby, and Whit- 
 bread. 
 
 My sketches have no vocation for politics, and I only 
 refer to them to speak of the ardent character which they 
 impressed upon the era, and the man whose lineaments I 
 merely touch. As a politician, he was what is understood 
 by the epithet " red-hot," and yet, in demeanour, one of the 
 coolest personages you would encounter in society. Extremely 
 short-sighted, he would go about peeping as if he could 
 see nothing, but like a Paul Pry (the original for whom 
 was, singularly enough, one of his useful jackals), seeing and 
 observing everything suitable to the promotion of his pur- 
 pose, with the vision of a lynx and the appropriativeness of 
 a lion. 
 
 Mr. Perry lived on terms of close personal intimacy with the 
 leaders of his party — a condition replete with peculiar advan- 
 tages to the station he occupied; and during a considerable time 
 
JAMES PERRY. 331 
 
 this association was very retentive and exclusive. Happily, 
 the system of secret scheming and intrigue has been much 
 modified by the advance of general intelligence ; and men 
 and measures are now better understood, and motives and 
 designs more clearly apprehended than in the stormy times 
 to which I refer. And an admirable consequence has en- 
 sued. It is one of the highest merits and greatest beauties 
 of our constitutional government that the rivalry for power, 
 even say for office, does not degenerate into personal ani- 
 mosities, nor is allowed to poison the social intercourse of 
 life. The exceptions are few. Throughout the better 
 classes in this country, the competition of the forum is, as 
 Canning finely said, "as if a brother would a brother 
 dare ;" and the same absence of hostile feeling is the grand 
 mark of civilizing power at our public meetings, and in our 
 clubs, coffee-houses, and private assemblages. 
 
 Mr. Perry, whilst yet young, left his native Aberdeen 
 with a fair stock of its learning. I believe he tried the 
 stage, and did not succeed. He, however, soon made his 
 way to London, and engaged industriously in the service of 
 the press. He not only wrote in several of the weekly 
 journals, but edited the " European Magazine," and contri- 
 buted to other large publications. But it was not till he 
 had the " Chronicle " that he occupied his own proper 
 sphere, and ably filled a post of much national importance, 
 during a most momentous epoch in the history of nations. 
 Whether he was on the right side or the wrong, it is not my 
 province to assert ; but I can truly say he was most hearty 
 on the side he took, and fought all its fights with the vehe- 
 mence of a hero. He was indeed sincere in his ojfinions, 
 and indefatigable in his exertions to establish them. A 
 handsome fortune recompensed these labours ; but still he 
 worked on not less diligently, though with able associates 
 (such as his successoi-, John Black), till assailed by fatal 
 illness, about the sixty -fifth year of his age. 
 
 Long before this, however (1821), the furor of political 
 
332 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 conflict had subsided into a calm, not to be resuscitated in 
 yet wilder strife for ten years. Perry was one of the most 
 willing to enjoy it. For, plain and homely in his appear- 
 ance (though, like all the editors of those more formal days, 
 he was always well dressed), he was a person of consider- 
 able taste and discernment. Productions of art and books 
 were objects of warm pursuit to hiin ; and there were not 
 many who surpassed his taste in the one, or his judgment 
 in the other. His conversation was accordingly of a very 
 agreeable and instructive nature ; and his pictures and 
 library were admirably set off in his mansion, which was 
 enriched by their treasures and enlivened by the genial hos- 
 pitalities with which he adorned it. Anecdotes of Men he 
 had Known were profuse and interesting • his acquaintance 
 with what might be called secret history was authentic and 
 valuable. One could not help wondering what had become 
 of all the hate and rancour of party contention. Had it all 
 died out 1 No matter : it had no shelter here, and the 
 Whig and Tory ate and drank together, and talked kindly, 
 and felt each that the other possessed some good qualities — 
 that other for whom, not long before, he would have de- 
 clared hanging, drawing, and quartering too merciful a fate. 
 James Perry was an excellent example of this commend- 
 able tone ; * and it is a happy thing for the country that it 
 is now, as I have observed, so generally accepted and acted 
 upon. The newspapers no longer rage at each other and 
 call bad names. People would not read the squabbles of 
 editors. The less we see or know of them, the more likely 
 are their writings to be oracular ; and with regard to the 
 singular-plural themselves — 
 
 " Where ignorance is bliss?, 
 "lis folly to be wise." 
 
 * When yielding to gentle Tory influences at his hospitable board, 
 it raised a laugh to remind him that he was no longer a Whig, but 
 only a Perriwig. 
 
JAMES PERKY. 333 
 
 Apart from all political considerations and editorial ques- 
 tioning, tlie memorable feature in Perry's literary career 
 "was his improvement, it might be said his invention, of the 
 newspaper staff for parliamentary reporting. Originally, 
 the wisdom of the Legislature was promulgated from memory 
 by a single organ like "Woodfall ; or literary men were 
 employed, as the great Samuel Johnson was, upon stolen 
 notes, to write fictitious speeches. Private reports and 
 accidental recollections, at all times, within a period of two 
 centuries, preserved some specimens ; but the whole history 
 was fragmentary and irregular. But as the functions of the 
 Commons were more and more developed, it became evident 
 that it would be advisable to adopt a system for the better 
 promulgation of their sayings and doings ; and Mr. Perry 
 was among the foremost to suggest and carry into execution 
 the plan which is now acted upon on a much larger scale. 
 At first, four or five gentlemen were amply sufficient for 
 the purpose, and Perry sent only one (a curious character 
 he was) to the House of Peers, to bring away as much as 
 his memory could retain. In the other house the occupation 
 was severe and fatiguing ; and, looking back to journals of 
 the period, I am astonished to see the accuracy and amount 
 of the labour produced, when thrown upon so few hands, 
 and performed under so many hindrances and difficulties 
 which no longer exist. I will not say that with modern 
 facilities, and more numerous agencies, we may not have a 
 superabundance of the extremely heterogeneous article ; but 
 whatever are the consequences, it may be allowed that the 
 volumes of parliamentary reporting now given to the public, 
 at any rate displace the vast quantity of rubbish which fills 
 the papers between the sessions ; and for these and other 
 benefits the people are largely indebted to the intelligence 
 and ability of James Perry. 
 
334 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA 
 
 In perusing this brief sketch, I must ask the reader to con- 
 sider the character of the period, especially its earlier 
 portion, to which it belongs. Gambling and drunkenness 
 were notoriously too common in what was called high life, 
 and infected the upper circles, graduating below that hollow 
 name, to a monstrous pitch. Patriotism was a lurid light 
 amid the flames of this profligacy ; and, strange to say, such 
 was the loose morality of the times, seemed to blaze in con- 
 genial unison with the pernicious glare of the baleful sphere. 
 Whatever we may be now, we may be thankful for many 
 improvements in manners. Such a circumstance as the sale 
 in execution of the library of a leader in Parliament, and 
 unpurchasable friend of the people, would not be deemed a 
 rare joke ; or such an association as that of Wilkes and 
 Liberty a mere farce. This is a key too much, and ought 
 always to be remembered when we are discussing the merits 
 or demerits of the half-century preceding that which has so 
 recently closed upon ourselves. To state the truth, the 
 political demigod or demagogue reformers of that epoch 
 were not Quakers ! 
 
 In politics, Perry was one of the staunchest of the popu- 
 lar band ; but he was not (errors excepted) one with any 
 set in revel and dissipation. With strong natural sense, a fair 
 share of acquired knowledge, and gifted withal with keen 
 tact, prudent and plausible, into which he conveyed hearti- 
 ness and warmth of feeling ; few men were ever more ser- 
 viceable to the party to which they adhered. He was 
 rather vain than proud ; and not a whit the worse for being 
 a little of a coxcomb in dress, and a bon vivant in the social 
 circle. Towards the close of his life, when he used to 
 receive visitors in his excellent library at home, he might be 
 something like the Marquis Marialva, in " Gil Bias." Like 
 him he affected the Scholar, and was not always safe. On 
 
JAMES PERRY. 335 
 
 the death of Porson, he observed that EpUhalamia were 
 thrown into his coffin; and the next day made the awkward 
 collection, for Epithalamia read Epecedia ! Save me from 
 my friends. It was in this style the "Edinburgh Review" 
 served their useful confederate, and remarked that " a little 
 over-weening pretension sometimes interfered with the con- 
 duct of the paper" (" Chronicle"). — " Edinburgh Review," 
 1823. 
 
 Upon such critical sentence, I offer no opinion. How 
 far the " Morning Chronicle" pleased the " Edinburgh Re- 
 view " is no business of mine ; but I will say for the editor 
 of the former, that if he failed to suit the tastes, or coincide 
 with the interests of the latter, he displayed very successful 
 ability in another branch of his editorial functions. The 
 editor of an influential, and especially if a party journal, has 
 great opportunities for promoting the views of young and 
 aspiring men who may be training in his employment. To 
 such Mr. Perry was a true friend. But for this the re- 
 porters on his paper would, most probably, never have risen 
 to the eminence they did ! But Mr. Serjeant Spankie 
 returned from a high and lucrative official station in India 
 to become a Member of the British Parliament, and " plain 
 Jock Campbell" to be Lord High Chancellor of England ! 
 Both were Scotchmen ; and I would not rob nationality of 
 any of its odours. ' 
 
 K^f J^y j^eMS&fa^&dty'/Z^ JZ&Sc^ 
 
( 336 ) 
 
 PINNOCK AND MAUNDER 
 
 WILLIAM PINNOCK and Samuel Maunder do not 
 rank with the high and notable personages, Avith 
 some of whom it has been my lot to associate in portions of 
 my life ; nor with the great poets, authors, artists, and men 
 eminent in sciences, whom I have also had the fortunate 
 opportunities to meet and to know sufficiently for these 
 slight personal sketches. Yet were they individuals who, 
 raising themselves from a humbler sphere, came to initiate, 
 or newly systematize a species of popular literature which 
 exerted a wide and beneficial national influence, especially 
 upon the lower and middle classes of the people, and showed 
 the way to the extension and improvement of similar works, 
 now so variously and voluminously addressed to the present 
 generation of readers. I believe I may state without fear 
 of contradiction, that from the Council on Education to 
 the innumerable host of publications devoted to general 
 intelligence and instruction (diffusion of knowledge, as it is 
 phrased), there are none who do not owe a deep debt of 
 gratitude to Pinnock and Maunder for organizing, where 
 they did not originate, plans for the attainment of these 
 most desirable objects. No doubt we had or have, our 
 "Watts, Goldsmiths, Blairs, Mavors, Murrays, Mangnalls, 
 Pnfields, and others, whose productions contributed much 
 towards promoting the education of the many in their time; 
 but they were rather insulated in their valuable efforts, and 
 it was not till the period was probably riper for the wished- 
 for progress, and Pinnock and Maunder startled us with 
 
PINNOCK AND MAUNDER. 337 
 
 their Catechisms and condensed Histories, that the aim was 
 brought to bear upon the millions, now better prepared and 
 more ready and apt for the reception of information. 
 
 Before entering into particulars, however, I beg leave to 
 offer a few remarks on the action and reaction which has 
 created so vast a difference between the date when Pin- 
 nock's school-books were first thrown broadcast over the 
 land, and the (at any rate not self-coufessedly "ignorant") 
 present. About fifty years ago, after one of the most 
 dreadful political convulsions and consequent series of 
 desolating wars that ever outraged humanity, peace was 
 regained, and the civilized world restored to a condition of 
 comparative tranquillity. It was a propitious epoch. The 
 fearful contest had occupied all minds, and the relief from 
 anxieties and terrors was marvellous. The tragedy was 
 over ; torrents of blood had ceased to flow ; stratagems and 
 plots no longer perplexed and haunted every imagination ; 
 the stage was clear, and the performers who soonest stepped 
 forth to occupy it, no matter in what new line, were sure of 
 an attentive and encouraging audience. Luckily for William 
 Pinnock, and for the public, he came forward strong and 
 powerful, because right-minded, ingenious, able, and inven- 
 tive, in the great educational business. His success was 
 immediate and extraordinary — effecting at once, as it were, 
 by a single stroke, what has since required years of labour 
 and perseverance to accomplish. With him the industry 
 followed the remarkable hit — with his successors, the in- 
 dustry has been obliged to be employed previously to 
 achieving the goal. To work and work up, to speculate on 
 novel devices, to invent new ways, to plan attractive roads, 
 to reclaim waste grounds, to attract attention, to provoke 
 curiosity, to flatter prejudices, to enlist opinions, are all 
 shapes of the multitudinous issues from the press which 
 either generate or pretend to generate "useful knowledge." 
 Few are diffident enough to confess to simple amusement as 
 their object; the wisest abstain from the pedagogue dog- 
 
338 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 matism which would cram teaching down reluctant throats, 
 and perhaps the most serviceable of all are those who have 
 the talent to produce, and the skill to mingle, the light with 
 the grave and the interesting with the instructive. A very- 
 small number are mischievous and demoralizing ; but it is 
 a gratifying fact to affirm, that the preponderance rests with 
 the well-disposed and truly patriotic. The press bears an 
 awful responsibility, and it would, no doubt, be difficult to 
 excuse or justify some of the errors and offences of which it 
 is guilty ; but taken altogether, as conducted at the present 
 day, it must be a high gratification to its busy workers to 
 be able to assert that (with very few exceptions) it cultivates 
 intelligence, rests on sound principles of morality, and 
 labours, on the whole, energetically and successfully to pro- 
 mote the amelioration and happiness of mankind. 
 
 The prodigious power and influence of the press, date 
 much of their growth and increase from the period to which 
 I have referred. One feature in the change is especially 
 remarkable. It has metamorphosed literature into the con- 
 dition of a trade, or, let us say, the rank of a profession. 
 It is no longer a case of stragglers, volunteers, insulated 
 knights of the pen, or original thinkers, extemporized for 
 peculiar occasions. There is now a great and constant 
 market for the commodity in all its shapes; and the demand 
 has not failed to bring out the supply. We must also 
 observe that the "articles" vary in value, from a mere 
 doubtful balance to a very high amount ; that the profits 
 are considerable, and that influence and authority are 
 within the reach of talent and ambition ; and we need not 
 be surprised to find so numerous a body now enrolled on the 
 lists, and dependent for subsistence on literary services. In 
 this form " the profession of literature is new." Men are 
 bred to it. They are regimented in it. They are employed 
 and paid in it by mercantile dealers, who obtain and dispose 
 of the produce. Brainwork comes within the grasp of 
 capital, and is treated much in the same manner as hand- 
 
PINNOCK AND MAUNDER. 339 
 
 work. We are all well acquainted with, immense manu- 
 factories, imposing wholesale warehouses, and smart multi- 
 farious retail shops ; the competition is strenuous, the prices 
 capricious, the sales enormous, and from the ancient hack 
 to the modern popular writer, the range is one of great 
 extent, great variety, and great difference in emolument and 
 character. A few amateurs and independent candidates 
 are still occasionally seen ; but the practice has become more 
 regular, and a writer for the press has arrived at a publicly 
 recognised status. 
 
 But to return from this digression. A generation has 
 passed away since William Pinnock came before the public. 
 A few may still survive who yet remember the sensation 
 created by his publications when they were first issued to 
 the public. Half the schoolmasters in England adopted 
 them — they were at once what is called a prodigious success. 
 
 William Pinnock was a very original character. He 
 commenced his literary career in a small way as a school- 
 master, in Hampshire — I think at Alton — near which 
 another remarkable man, William Cobbett, was also pro- 
 duced. It was in this occupation that the design of the 
 Catechisms was suggested to his mind ; and he was not long 
 in carrying the experiment into effect. Provincial success 
 as usual, pointed to London as the grand theatre whereon 
 to push this promising adventure, and in conjunction with 
 his brother-in-law and executive literary coadjutor, Mr. 
 Maunder, a publishing house was established in the metro- 
 polis. For two or three years the partners were publishers 
 of the " Literary Gazette," which served to extend their 
 connections ; being then, like their own concern, started as 
 a novel trial of popular taste, to ascertain how far the 
 frequent issue of a periodical embracing the latest miscel- 
 laneous intelligence of literature, science, and fine arts, 
 might hope for general support. This experiment, like 
 their own, was pre-eminently successful, and the example it 
 set, and the course it opened, has also been very advan_ 
 z 2 
 
340 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 tageously followed out, both as regards the public and the 
 imitators of the original pattern — with or without amend- 
 ments. Meanwhile the Catechisms multiplied, and fully 
 answered their purpose. They did not aim at too much. 
 They were concise ; and they possessed the real excellence 
 which ought to belong to every work of tuition : they began 
 at the beginning, and did not take it for granted that the 
 learner was already acquainted with so much it was un- 
 necessary to teach. They multiplied, and embraced many 
 and very various subjects. From the teaching for the 
 Peasant's Cottage, to the teaching from the Herald's College, 
 there was no remissness in the flow of the instructive stream ; 
 and issues and re-issues enrich the catalogues of eminent 
 publishers to this day. Education for the people has now 
 become a great national question. Whatever differences of 
 opinion there may be on other parts of the question, I am 
 free to express my opinion, that under any system, the pro- 
 ductions of Pinnock and Maunder may be most beneficially 
 employed. Soon, condensed Histories were superadded to 
 the Catechisms, and, for that time, I may state they were 
 carefully edited. At least I can vouch for one, Goldsmith's 
 " England," which, at the request of Pinnock and Maunder, 
 I examined critically, and could not detect any appreciable 
 number of doubtful points or serious errors. Ex uno disce 
 omnes. I believe equal pains were bestowed upon the rest, 
 and their reception was extraordinary. If I am not mis- 
 taken, the profit upon the volume I have mentioned 
 amounted to above £2, 000 in one year ! 
 
 The ball of fortune was at his feet ; but William Pinnock 
 was imprudent, and he kicked it away. If ever the spirit 
 of speculation was incarnated in a human body, it filled 
 every vein and pulse in his frame. With the old poet, 
 Wither (and "wither" would have been a too appropriate 
 forewarning shadow), he might repeat 
 
 " That from every thing I saw, 
 I could some invention draw ; " 
 
PISTNOCK AND MAUNDER. 341 
 
 and so he never ceased to attempt something new — some- 
 thing out of the common way. With a large income, and 
 very moderate expenditure, it would seem fabulous to tell 
 by what absurdities this otherwise extremely clever man got 
 rid of his very considerable emoluments, and plunged himself 
 into difficulties. One instance may serve. He took it into 
 his head to fancy that an immense sum might be realized by 
 a monopoly of the wood for veneering. An elaborate cal- 
 culation of the furniture in which it was used, and especially 
 pianofortes, followed the idea, and afforded the most satis- 
 factory conclusions. The next step was a visit to all the 
 principal repositories of the article, and even to vessels in the 
 river and docks, and the purchase of all that could be got. 
 But the furniture making and the pianoforte building 
 went on the same as ever, and there was no demand for 
 Pinnock's veneer at advanced prices ; so, as he could not sell 
 it at a profit, he betook himself to the manufacture of the 
 musical instruments to work it up, and he lost, as he con- 
 fessed, a mint of money upon the egregious speculation. It 
 was by this and similar outbreaks that a most productive 
 and increasing business was dissipated and lost. The close 
 was melancholy. Driven wild by his failures, poor Pinnock 
 witnessed the sale of his copyrights — the mere wreck of 
 which enriched several great creditor houses, and yields 
 valuable returns to this day — and sank into a low estate, 
 ever busy with something, but having lost the power of 
 doing anything. Project after project vanished ; yet he was 
 withal a well-meaning and honest man, apparently ruined 
 by an excitable temperament which it would puzzle the 
 wisest physiologist to explain. 
 
 After his death, Mr. Maunder, who sustained him to the 
 last, though his sound sense and prudence could not control 
 his aberrations, struck into a laborious and useful career for 
 himself. Fortunately he entered into relations with a house 
 which had the power to afford his abilities full scope to find 
 their own reward in the product, and to render an im- 
 
342 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 measurable service to the country by that wide dissemina- 
 tion which their eminent position in the trade, and long 
 established hereditary influence, could command for anything 
 truly deserving of public acceptance. It was truly a for- 
 tunate event that Maunder came into association with the 
 Messrs. Longmans. 
 
 From the humbler Catechisms, Maunder found his up- 
 ward way to the higher region of the Treasuries. I forget 
 the order of their publication, but can refer to Geography, 
 History, Natural History, Science, Literature, Biography — 
 and, I believe the most widely circulated of them, though 
 all had very extensive circulation, the " Treasury of Know- 
 ledge, and Library of Reference " — no doiibt a very capti- 
 vating title, but fairly sustained by its merits — has had a sale, 
 as I have ascertained, of upwards of two hundred thousand 
 copies. 
 
 I perceive new editions of these various Avorks frequently 
 advertised, with such improvements and additions as the 
 onward course of time must render necessary ; but this can 
 in no measure limit the eulogy I am justified in bestowing 
 upon the subject of this notice, as a distinguished benefactor 
 of the youth of his country, and an exemplary contributor 
 to the promotion of intellectual culture among all classes 
 in the British empire. 
 
 He thus describes the object of his books : — " The 
 pressing calls of business or of duty deprive many of the 
 means of pursuing literature or science in any better way 
 than by desultory reading, aided by books of reference ; and 
 he who claims the parentage of this volume is not one who 
 disdains the humbler efforts of the intellect, or despises the 
 rudest stepping-stones to learning, being convinced that 
 every advance, however trifling, which the mind makes 
 towards attaining perfection, increases the rational enjoy- 
 ments of life." The conscientiousness and impartiality 
 with which Maunder has treated every department of his 
 various toil, are not the least remarkable nor the least 
 
PINNOCK AND MAUNDER. 343 
 
 laudable of the results, and are most conspicuous where the 
 greatest individual judgment was required. I can call to 
 mind no instance of more even-handed justice ; and this is 
 an element which, when joined with his indefatigible pains- 
 taking and diligent research, his absence of ambition, and 
 contentment with accuracy and solidity of information, has 
 conferred upon his productions the celebrity and acceptation 
 they so thoroughly deserve. He has honourably earned, in 
 the humble literary path he trod, the lasting reputation of a 
 standard author. I speak of him thus warmly, because he 
 was an honourable and worthy man in every relation of 
 life. 
 
 I do not, however, desire to conclude this sketch with the 
 dry particulars of books, or the grave reflections suggested 
 by the remembrance of days that are gone. I will turn for 
 a few moments to one of the Treasuries which required the 
 utmost consideration, viz., " The Biographical Treasury." 
 No department of literature requires greater judgment and 
 candour, and in my opinion Maunder was candidly imbued 
 with the right spirit for this work. He was aware that 
 after all observation and inquiry — from intimacy to accessory 
 report — we could know but little of our fellow men, except 
 what was learned from the outside of things ; that thoughts, 
 secret motives, aims, accidents, temptations, impulses — the 
 hinges on which all that was said or done in reality turned 
 — were hidden in recesses impenetrable to the most acute 
 investigator of circumstances ; and yet, without this know- 
 ledge to shape the decision, there was nothing but guess, 
 and some judicial or philosophic balancing, to determine a 
 comparatively accurate judgment of character, and that the 
 real origin of human destinies might probably have entirely 
 escaped the purview of the biographer. The feeling of this 
 great truth seems to have inspired the modesty so significant 
 in Maundex-'s estimates, and I simply take occasion to indicate 
 it as a suggestion to every writer or compiler who may 
 follow in his footsteps, to beware of the dictatorial tone, 
 
344 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN". 
 
 which can only make truth more unwelcome and error 
 more pernicious. 
 
 For the nonce, I have assumed the place of the biographer's 
 biographer ; and I must offer an excuse : let it be drawn out 
 of two stories, by way of relief to my sententiousness. There 
 was once upon a time an eagle brought down by an arrow, 
 looking on which he saw that the shaft had sped to its mark 
 by the aid of a feather plucked from his own wing. He was 
 thus despoiled in death by means of what he had supplied in 
 life, and left to " dull oblivion and a name forgot." In 
 Eastern tale (among a mass of riches, whence many Western 
 marvels, drolls, and legends, are derived), there is a humorous 
 story of the Goroo Noodle class, in which it is told of twelve 
 sagacious brothers, that having, in travelling, crossed a rapid 
 river, it occurred to them to reckon their number, in order 
 to ascertain if all had passed in safety. So one after another 
 counted, and every one omitting to count himself, it clearly 
 appeared, and was unanimously carried, that one brother had 
 either been left behind or drowned in the passage. To make 
 sure of either fact, they agreed to recross the stormy stream, 
 and — but my example need not go farther. The whole 
 illustration is only to point the remark, that so far as I have 
 been able to consult the latest productions of this class, I 
 cannot find either the name of William Pinnock nor that of 
 Samuel Maunder among those who have most efficiently 
 contributed to our national literature, and above all, to 
 establish the system of popular education. Yet it seems to 
 me that both are eminently deserving of that distinction ; 
 and it is a melancholy satisfaction to me to endeavour to 
 rectify the omission in the pages of " The Leisure Hour." 
 
PINNOCK: AND MAUNDER. 345 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 The generally needful paring down of contributions to 
 periodicals of limited size, led to the omission of a few re- 
 marks intended for this paper, which I yet desire to lay 
 before my readers — for the most important questions affect- 
 ing the public press, and the right understanding of the best 
 means to promote a sound system of National Education are 
 involved in the history of Pinnock and Maunder. The 
 way they showed, the success that attended their exertions, 
 and the effects they produced, offer grounds to be studied 
 attentively by those who will look back for examples to 
 light them on their way forward, for the best solution of 
 the great problems which now justly claim the utmost 
 consideration for our happy guidance as a prosperous 
 nation. Pinnock and Maunder issued twelve volumes of 
 Catechisms, eight of Histories, and twenty -two of Grammars 
 and other educational works ; and they were all ably done 
 and consistent. Literature, as I have observed, was not 
 then the profession it is now; nor were the same great 
 talents regularly employed upon it — the produce of which 
 we every day witness in such abundance in our news- 
 papers and other periodical publications. But upon the 
 existing state of things what I would enforce is the ex- 
 pediency, if the general mind could only come to it, of 
 ridding ourselves or getting out of the engrossing atmo- 
 sphere of the utterly frivolous and unsubstantial thin air 
 with which we are encompassed ; and escaping from the 
 noise and clamour which fills too large a portion of the 
 press, into the wholesome region of rational recreation and 
 genuine literature. The former make up by activity for 
 what they want in desert. They fill earth and air with 
 .their shouts, cries, and choruses. From the gifted and clever 
 to the noisy and shallow the medium, as it were, of natural 
 
346 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 intelligence, the world so rings with their pretensions that 
 little else can be heard. The result is an over-ruling effect 
 upon the public mind, wrought by this strangely mixed ele- 
 ment — in effect important beyond measure and insignificant 
 below expression. Of what belongs to the right and excellent 
 it is impossible to speak in terms too laudatory ; of what is 
 frivolous and superficial, it would not be easy to employ 
 language adequately contemptuous to suggest appropriate 
 censure. But we must take the lot altogether and sift it 
 how we can. To the able, wise, and good we are indebted 
 for more than can be estimated ; to the impertinent, sense- 
 less, and charlatan number, we can only endeavour to shut 
 our ears and let their empty sounds pass by, as they rapidly 
 do, into thin and vacant space, or evaporate amid the shaking 
 and noise of the railroad. Faciunt nee intelligento, ut nihil — 
 intelligent, they can teach nothing, who have learnt nothing; 
 they can scarcely invest us with much knowledge, who, 
 themselves, are destitute of even moderate understanding. 
 When the lame lead the blind, says the adage, both must 
 fall in the, ditch ; and it might be well if Cowper's clerical 
 advice to bishops were extended to the laity, and the world 
 witnessed fewer literature-spinners engaged in debilitating 
 follies — writers who "could not teach, and would not learn." 
 To this view I may add the horde who 
 
 " Like Thelwell, lecture as they go ; " 
 
 and overspread the land with most miscellaneous and desul- 
 tory dishes of trashy information, of which the nearest truth 
 may be said, if they do little or no good they can do little 
 or no harm. So, rest them with their contributions to pro- 
 gress, the march of intellect, and the diffusion of useful 
 intelligence ! 
 
 But to come to my stand-point, as our parrot phraseology 
 now has it, in every scrap of popular argumentation — my 
 point is that the seed from which our present growth has 
 
PINNOCK AND MAUNDER. 347 
 
 sprung, was sown, as nearly as may be, half a century ago, 
 and may be specifically traced, in a remarkable degree, to 
 the efforts of William Pinnock. 
 
 " To teach the young idea how to shoot — 
 To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, 
 To breathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix 
 The generous purpose in the glowing breast." 
 
( 348 ) 
 
 EICHAED POBSON. 
 
 OF Porson my recollection is saddening ; for I only knew 
 him in the last years of his life, and, I am sorry to 
 add, sometimes under circumstances of which there could 
 be no good reason to boast. I was beginning to seek my 
 information about society, and the ways of life among all 
 sorts of men, and in a curious variety of places. The object 
 of my studies was men and manners — not, like Porson's, 
 classics and Greek ; and yet it was odd to find why and 
 where we occasionally met. 
 
 In London, in those days, there was less formality than 
 there is now ; and the learned Professor was prone to enjoy 
 its festive hours, and recreate in the rather chance medley 
 of its mixed population. In him the strong and the weak, 
 the great and the small, were strangely combined. His 
 whole career, if I may use the term, was accidental and 
 capricious, precarious and erratic. The son of a parish 
 clerk, his boyhood promise procured his being sent to Eton, 
 and thence to Cambridge, at both which famed seats of edu- 
 cation he excited much admiration by his talent, and some 
 opposition from his professed opinions and habits. Refusing 
 to subscribe the " Articles" — for he was nearly, if not quite, 
 what is called a Rationalist — he necessarily renounced his 
 fellowship, and the Church as a profession, and, devoting 
 himself entirely to literature, was elected Greek Professor, 
 and filled the chair with the highest distinction, as the most 
 profound scholar and critic of his age and country. His 
 editions of the Greek dramatists have exhausted their 
 
RICHARD PORSON. 349 
 
 themes ; and his philological and other critical essays will 
 last as long as the languages — monuments of his extra- 
 ordinary acumen and stupendous intellectual powers. "Well 
 might the author of the " Poet's Tale" refer to him in words 
 which predicted his failure in life. 
 
 " Porson in Grecian lore you reckon great — 
 Will Porson e'er be Minister of State ?" 
 
 Alas ! no ; nor aught else half so great as his marvellous 
 gifts might have enabled him to be. The following is all 
 that can be said in mitigation of his besetting frailty. In 
 the prime of life he married a sister of Perry, of the " Morn- 
 ing Chronicle," and lost her within six months of their 
 union — an affliction which deeply affected the tenor of his 
 after life. The beginning to steep sorrow in oblivion is a 
 terrible mistake, and almost invariably leads to consequences 
 that never can be retraced. Such, I believe, was the source 
 of this eminent man's sad fall. 
 
 " If any pain or care remain, 
 Let's drown it in the bowl," 
 
 was a common Anacreontic in the majority of festive com- 
 panies at the close of the last century, and the Bacchanalian 
 jollity which prevailed over many classes, did not require to 
 be prompted by grief, or limited by want of temptations. 
 Of such temptations I shall endeavour, as my wont is in 
 these memoranda, to afford some idea, by the description of 
 a scena, in which the Greek Professor took part, and which 
 will at the same time serve to illustrate the too prevalent 
 social features of the period. 
 
 After a dinner given by Tom Hill to a select party — 
 nearly all, like himself, book-men and book-collectors — 
 toasts, as was frequently the case, were the order of the 
 afternoon ; and they were agreed to be accompanied by suit- 
 able quotations from Shakspeare. Hill, on opening the 
 
350 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 series of toasts, gave "Mrs. Siddons" — "like Niobe, all 
 tears." John Kemble gave " Richard Brinsley Sheridan." 
 
 " We shall not look upon his like again." 
 
 Jennings (a strange character, whose life was a comedy), 
 whose turn came next, asked Kemble to assist him. " Ay, 
 there's the rub," whispered John ; but the virtuoso, with 
 more than his usual felicity, looking at his neighbour (who 
 had just then offered an apology in the newspapers,* 
 commencing "I, John Phillip Kemble," etc.), gave "J. P. 
 Kemble" — " ay, there's the rub." Others I cannot re- 
 member. There were Morris, of the Museum, Paine, 
 brother to the Master of the Charterhouse, Dr. Haworth, 
 of St. Bartholomew's ; and last came the Professor, who at 
 the call woke up, and gave " Gilbert Wakefield" — " What's 
 Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba 1" To do justice to the 
 effect of this happy sally, I may inform readers not " up" 
 to the controversial literature of that day, that Wakefield, 
 also a learned Grecian, had in his " Sylva Critica" com- 
 mented upon Hecuba (Euripides) — a commentary which 
 Porson passed over without notice when writing on the 
 same subject. Hence, within twenty -four hours, Wakefield 
 published his diatribe, and reproached him with the title, 
 " in usum tyronum" when there exist difficulties of the 
 gravest nature : a criticism which the Professor had partly 
 anticipated, yet warmly resented. Hence the retort. 
 
 At Cambridge, as I have hinted, Porson was generally 
 in hot water with the dignitaries of his College, Trinity. 
 Mansell, afterwards Master, and Bishop of Bristol, was his 
 abhorrence ; and he used to relate a story of matchless 
 hypocrisy, attached to Dean Backhouse (who annoyed him 
 on every occasion), which created a great stir in the uni- 
 versity, calling for inquiries and expulsion. I have some 
 lines by Porson on this subject. They are immodest and. 
 
 * For an indiscretion towards Miss De Campe, afterwards Mrs. 
 Charles Kemble. 
 
RICHARD PORSON. 351 
 
 offensive — aberrations inspired by the genius of the looser 
 times of English poetry, and not that of his immortal 
 classics, JEschylus and Sophocles. 
 
 The place where I saw most of Porson was the residence 
 of Mr. Wilson, a very ingenious and respectable watch- 
 maker in Salisbury Court, Fleet Street. He was a com- 
 patriot of mine from a lovely land (far different from the 
 purlieus of Saint Bride), and an idolater of the illustrious 
 Professor. Their association, to the very verge to which he 
 could safely and decorously accompany the latter, was ex- 
 tremely intimate, and still within the limits of becoming 
 mirth ; it was no ordinary enjoyment to spend hours in 
 Wilson's cosy parlour, and listen to a flow of gaiety and 
 intelligence unsurpassed by the most humorous, unequalled 
 by the most learned. It was indeed a treat to hear him 
 pour out his stores of anecdote, his racy remarks on passing 
 events, and his marvellous, almost incredible, abundance of 
 literary illustrations of antiquity and past times, drawn as 
 it seemed, from every channel into which the mind of man 
 could dive. His reading was prodigious, and so was his 
 memory. In his boyhood it had been cultivated without 
 the aid of pens and paper, or even pencils and slates ; and 
 the result resembled what we now see proclaimed as a 
 novelty in rival schools ; where the wonders advertised, 
 from exercise in the same system, are enough to stagger 
 Mr. Biddle, should his faculty have enlarged with his years, 
 and his calculations beat Babbage's machine. Be that as it 
 may, Porson's natural mnemonics produced an extraordinary 
 retentiveness of memory. It appeared as if he had read 
 thousands of volumes, and not forgotten a single line — in 
 many cases, a single word ; and the way in which he was 
 ever bringing quotations into juxtaposition, and to bear upon 
 any subject that happened to arise for discussion, was 
 hardly to be imagined, and about as hardly to be credited 
 without being verified by personal experience. Sir James 
 Mackintosh (as I have stated) alone approached him, per- 
 
352 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 haps, in this respect; but his acquirements were not so 
 universal, nor his resources so vast. "With all this, his con- 
 versation was lively and entertaining, and no one could 
 retire from his society without increased admiration of the 
 versatility of his mind and the depth of his learning. 
 
 The beauty of his handwriting was a peculiarity not un- 
 worthy of notice. Dealing with languages, this was an 
 essential advantage to his manuscripts and their accurate 
 transformation into type. I never saw it surpassed ; and 
 his annotations, to be looked at in the British Museum, are 
 well deserving of the attention of the caligrapher. Clear 
 penmanship in authors is as valuable in its sphere as distinct 
 speaking is to the orator ; and, as the schoolmaster is 
 abroad, I would advise him to copy a lesson from Porson, 
 and send his pupils up more confidently for Government 
 examinations. 
 
 On the foundation of the City Library, and its location 
 in the Old Jewry, the Professor was elected Librarian, with 
 a liberal salary and comfortable apartments. But, pitiable 
 to state, his intemperate and irregular habits had become 
 more and more invetei'ate ; and his sub-librarians had to 
 endure some distressing circumstances in their endeavours 
 to keep him in propriety and respect. They were excellent 
 and kind men, too, and could appreciate the good qualities 
 and astonishing ability of their superior. Mr. Ilbery, after- 
 wards a well-read bookseller, and Mr. Upcott, the celebrated 
 collector of literary treasures, filled these offices; and I have 
 often heard of the pain they suffered in the imposed quasi 
 guardianship and care of the wreck of their chief, when — 
 but I will drop the curtain on his infirmities. Too many 
 have dissipated the rich endowments of nature ; too many 
 have abused the gifts which God has bestowed upon them. 
 
 " If such a man there be, 
 Who would not weep if Atticus were he ! " 
 
 In September, 1808, and only in his forty-ninth year, he 
 
RICHARD PORSON. 353 
 
 fell down in the street, and epilepsy was found to be the 
 cause of his death. His life affords a pregnant example and 
 lesson to every literary aspirant and learned student ; and 
 from his tomb they may, with trembling, hear the voice and 
 guard their course. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 My subject offers little temptation to farther pursuit. 
 The youthful prodigy who, at nine years of age mastered the 
 cube root through the exertions of memory, fulfilled only 
 in a peculiar and qualified manner the splendid destiny he 
 might have achieved. Yet to make himself the foremost 
 scholar of the age was no unworthy triumph ! 
 
 From a severe illness at Eton, his constitution was en- 
 feebled ; but notwithstanding this, his disposition was 
 warm, and his manifestation of it, not only in poetical 
 effusions but in conduct, whilst yet a Cantab undergraduate, 
 kept him pretty much in hot water, as I have related, with 
 the dignitaries of Trinity. Of his warfare with Mansell 
 and Backhouse, I may venture to tell that on one occasion, 
 upon a suspicion or pretence that the Dean had secreted his 
 washerwoman's daughter, a riotous and unseemly raid was 
 led into his very sanctum, and according to Porson's version 
 of the story, the Suspected extricated himself so cleverly 
 from the dilemma, that "if ever a Dean did deserve a 
 Bishopric for his hypocrisy, Backhouse was the man ! " 
 Disappointed in his trap, Porson avenged himself in one of 
 those poetical compositions, so brilliant with talent that we 
 must the more regret they could never bear the light — on 
 this occasion I may barely allude to the lines, commencing 
 with a charge of intemperance against " Meredith, our senior 
 fellow," and followed by a furious attack as to 
 
 " How our dean with pious care, 
 Taught young women psalms and prayer." 
 2 A 
 
354 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 I am afraid a paraphrase on Pope's sufficiently " indelicate " 
 Abelard and Eloisa, too potently sustained the wanton 
 spirit of the Cambridge onslaught. 
 
 I have reason to believe that Porson was many a time 
 and oft prone to commit himself to versification, when 
 stimulated by curious subjects or circumstances. Beloe in 
 "The Sexagenarian," quotes poetry on the pojralar play of 
 Pizarro, as his production and handed about, like other 
 pieces from his pen, for private entertainment. The de- 
 scription of the performance is humorous enough for an 
 antetype for Ingoldsby. I copy three of the verses not 
 generally known — 
 
 " Then the priestess and virgins, in robes white and flowing, 
 Walked solemnly in, like a sow and her farrow, 
 And politely informed the whole house they were going 
 To entreat Heaven's curses on noble Pizarro. 
 
 Rolla made a fine speech 'with such logic and grammar, 
 As must sure raise the envy of Counsellor Gai-row ; 
 
 It would sell for five pounds (were it brought to the hammer), 
 For it raised all Peru against valiant Pizarro. 
 
 Pour acts are tol lol, but the fifth's my delight, 
 Where history's traced with the pen of a Varro, 
 
 And Elvira in black, and Alonzo in white, 
 Put an end to the piece by killing Pizarro." 
 
 The Devil's Walk has often been erroneously ascribed to 
 Porson : a Sonnet to Nothing is (given in the National 
 Portrait Gallery) worthy of his pen. 
 
 " Mysterious Nothing ! how shall I define 
 
 Tl y shapeless, baseless, placeless emptiness ? 
 Nor form nor colour, sound nor size, are thine ; 
 
 Nor words nor figures can thy void express. 
 But though we cannot thee to ought compare, 
 
 To thee a thousand things may likened be 
 And though thou art with nobody, no where, 
 
 Yet half mankind devote themselves to thee. 
 
RICHARD PORSON. 355 
 
 How many books thy history contain ! 
 
 How many heads thy mighty plans pursue ! 
 What labouring hands thy fortune only gain ! 
 
 What busy men thy only doings do ! 
 To thee, the great, the proud, the giddy bend, 
 And, like my sonnet, all in Nothing end." 
 
 Of his wonderful memory many instances have been recorded, 
 such for example as his remembering how often a certain 
 word occurred in Thucydides, and in what passages ; but 
 truly his powers in this respect were incredible. He seemed 
 to be capable of repeating a hundred authors, grave or 
 comical, learned or frivolous, by heart — it might be Soj:>ho- 
 cles or Shakspeare, or The Tailors, a burlesque, or Tom and 
 Jerry ! Still the drama was uppermost. At Eton, he 
 covertly wrote " Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire " for 
 the prohibited Long Chamber, and was one of the most 
 gravely compromised participators in all the foi'bidden 
 sports of the school. And of these in after years it was his 
 delight to talk. He used to expatiate on their frolics and 
 transgression of rules, with similar or even greater unction, 
 than was his wont when Cambridge was the theme. In 
 listening, one might detect how large a share he took on 
 " his own hook," and how abundantly ready he was to help 
 his companions. ISTo wonder he was highly prized by them, 
 as he was admired by the more mature lovers of learning ; 
 and when he fell into embai'rassed circumstances, a sub- 
 scription raised among them was invested in securities, as a 
 provision against the precariousness of literary labour. 
 What a man of business he must have been— how well able 
 to take care of himself — many months after his death, his 
 executors discovered several hundred pounds of this friendly 
 tribute, lying disregarded in the Government fund where it 
 was deposited. „ 
 
 &.<%,. 
 
 <rW&?is 
 
( 356 ) 
 
 THE EAEL OF RIPON. 
 
 ASSIDUOUS application, a deep veneration for truth, 
 and a high character for integrity, will frequently 
 pave the way to supreme advancement, without the pre- 
 sence of commanding talents or pre-eminent ability. To be 
 good and trusted, to be well informed and respected, are 
 safer positions to enjoy, than to be specious and doubted, or 
 brilliant and admired, and often, under propitious concur- 
 rent circumstances, when taken at the flood, lead on to 
 fortune. Among the Men I have Known, one has recently 
 passed away, to whose memory I do not think justice has 
 been done, but, on the contrary, disparagement has forgotten 
 the charitable motto, " De mortuis nil nisi bonum." I may, 
 in this instance, even supersede the last word by "verum," 
 and of the dead say nothing but what is true. 
 
 The late Lord Papon was not, indeed, to be compared with 
 " the Pilot that weathered the storm," nor with the states- 
 man lyrist who uttered that strain, but he was gifted with 
 many of the most precious qualities that adorn humanity. 
 Though of a gentle nature, he was upright and inflexible in 
 principle ; his probity was immaculate ; the sole object of 
 his ambition was the welfare of his country, and his life's 
 devotion to her service was earnest and patriotic. The 
 functions of several of the highest and most laborious offices 
 of the State he fulfilled with indefatigable zeal ; and if party 
 politics strove to depreciate his views, as too sanguine at the 
 time, it cannot be denied that he lived to see his anticipa- 
 tions of "prosperity" more than realized. His inadequacy, 
 
THE EARL OF RIPON. 357 
 
 when exalted to the topmost pinnacle of government in 
 tempestuous political times, chiefly arose from a want of 
 confidence in himself. The stupendous responsibility of 
 the helm at a critical and troubled epoch, overwhelmed his 
 modest estimate of his own powers ; a want of sufficient 
 energy resulted from a want of sufficient self-reliance, and 
 the conscientious Minister retired from the post he believed 
 he could not occupy with advantage to the best interest of 
 the empire. This might be called cowardice ; I think it 
 was patriotism. Our brief, reluctant premier was of the 
 kindliest feelings, unassuming nature, and amiable manners. 
 On one social occasion the delightful persiflage of a Lord 
 Chancellor (who may be guessed by the sequel), laid clown 
 so gravely upon a trifling question in conversation, what the 
 powers of his high office enabled him directly to order and 
 do, and what he could only accomplish by roundabout or 
 negative measures, that he fairly imposed upon and raised a 
 laugh at the expense of his too credulous compeer. The good 
 humour with which he took the jest was heightened by the 
 victim immediately relating a story equally ludicrous, as 
 against the obtuseness of his legal perceptions, but sheathing 
 a sharp point which told upon the sophistry and verbiage of 
 the greatest sages and expounders of law.* A playful ex- 
 hibition of our own want of ready apprehension, or ignor- 
 ance, is a happy shield to protect us from the attacks of 
 others, and will blunt the shaft, if it does not return it. "I 
 was interested," he said, " in a Chancery suit, and went one 
 
 day to hear it argued. The Lord Chancellor L allowed 
 
 me a seat beside him on the bench, and Mr. Bell having 
 spoken at some length, was followed by Mr. Hart, who was 
 just concluding when I was summoned to the House of 
 Commons, where a debate was expected. On leaving, I 
 observed to the Chancellor, ' Well, I don't know how the 
 case may be decided ; but, in my opinion, Mr. Hart has so 
 
 * See Addenda for a sketch of this " encounter of keen wits." 
 
358 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 completely answered Mr. Bell, that he has not a leg to 
 stand upon.' His lordship smiled his good-bye significantly, 
 and whispered, ' I am sorry I cannot agree with you, for — 
 they are both on the same side ! ' " 
 
 Many men of far inferior parts entertain a much higher 
 conceit of themselves than did the late most estimable and 
 kind-hearted Earl of Bipon. His lordship was wont to take 
 great delight in the juvenile studies of his son, Lord Gode- 
 rich, the present earl, who, strange to say, in his very early 
 years was devoted to mathematics as a relaxation. I know 
 not if the pursuit has grown with his growth ; but some of 
 his boyish exercises, shown to me, were quite marvellous, and 
 would have been very remarkable at twice his age. Born 
 to wealth, power, and a peerage, he has probably exchanged 
 for politics and public life, what nature seemed to intend 
 lor adhesion to Euclid and Newton.* 
 
 * An excellent speech recently made by his lordship, on laying 
 the foundation-stone of the Huddersfied Mechanics' Institute, evinced 
 an honourable sense of his duty as a public man, to promote the 
 welfare of the working classes. — Editor. 
 
THE EARL OF RIPON. 359 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Into the sketch of Coleridge (see p. 121) I have introduced a 
 description of a dinner which brought him out in an extraordi- 
 nary fashion ; and to balance the account a little, on his behalf 
 and the behalf of his comrades on that mirthful occasion, I am 
 tempted to relate the particulars of another dinner party 
 where there was also a good deal of sport and humour, 
 though Lord Ripon, a Minister of the Crown, the Lord 
 Chancellor, and other dignified personages were the actors. 
 To be sure they did not carry the fun so far, but yet it was 
 excellent drolling ; and it was pleasant to witness men in 
 the most responsible stations and with the most heavily 
 worked minds of the age, lending themselves to such re- 
 laxations, with all the readiness of big boys ! It was at Sir 
 Henry Ellis's, the near relative of Lady Ripon, a high official 
 in the Exchecpier office, and who had been our plenipotentiary 
 on a mission to the court of Persia. From that country he 
 had brought a sample of the Sophy's famous Shiraz wine,* 
 and upon great days one bottle was produced, but no more. 
 No matter what the call, it was as unalterable as the laws 
 of the Medes and Persians, that a single bottle was the 
 utmost measure of the host's hospitality. It so happened 
 that Lord Brougham sat on his right hand and Lord Ripon 
 on his left, and as the course of the wine is also established, 
 according to equally invariable law and custom, to circulate 
 like the sun, it fell out that the last of it had to arrive at 
 the seat occupied by the Lord Chancellor. In handing it 
 round the whim occurred to Colonel Craddock (afterwards 
 Caradoc, the ancient name restored, Lord Howden), a 
 delightful companion next to whom I had the good fortune 
 
 * The Zeher-e-khoosh — delightful poison. — See Malcolm's " Persia '* 
 for the laughable legend on the name. 
 
560 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 to be placed at the bottom of the table, that it would be a 
 capital joke to get the flask emptied before it reached Lord 
 Brougham, aud thus squeeze a second bottle out of the 
 Plenijjo. The word was whispered and the trick succeeded 
 — at least when the bottle got to his lordship there was 
 nothing in it. Well, what was to be done 1 ? Sir Henry 
 could not commit perjury, and he had many times sworn to 
 the condition. It was legally suggested that the Lord Chan- 
 cellor could, of his own authority, order another bottle to be 
 brought up; and that succedaneum, I believe, would have been 
 winked at by our host. But not so was the opinion of the 
 Chief of laws and equity. The jest offered an excellent 
 opportunity to him and he availed himself of it, to the in- 
 finite amusement of the conq:>any. To tell of his axioms 
 and arguments is out of the question, but they concluded 
 with the dictum that a Lord Chancellor's functions were not 
 peremptory — that he could not carry a point positively but 
 must get at it by negatives, and in fine that he had not the 
 power to order another bottle of Shiraz from the cellar, but 
 he could order the cellar door to be locked and nothing 
 suffered to be brought out without his permission. 
 
 How Lord Bipon extricated himself from the laugh at his 
 credulity in the Chancellor's imposition, I have already 
 told ; but the whole episode belonged to that class of social 
 enjoyments which baffles even viva voce re-enaction. 
 
 " It was merry in the hall, 
 And beards wagged all," 
 
 in the midst of such pleasantries, and Lord Bipon confessed 
 that he believed he never could have been fitted to be Lord 
 Chancellor, which his father's coachman had predicted for 
 him in his boyhood (appealing to Ellis for corroboration), 
 but had succeeded in getting up to be (though only) Chan- 
 cellor of the Exchequer. 
 
 How charming it is to enjoy, how difficult to convey any 
 idea of a scene like this — even after adjourning to the 
 
THE EARL OF B.IPON. 361 
 
 drawing-room and coffee, Lord Brougham was in the most 
 jocose and playful mood, and midnight almost surprised us 
 by arriving so soon to. break tip such a party. 
 
 Lady Bipon was of a timid nature and very susceptible 
 of alarm ; from the time of the mob assault upon the resi- 
 dence of her husband " Prosperity Robinson," so called in 
 angry derision ; but who lived (and, I may repeat, contri- 
 buted as a statesman) to see his cheerful auspices more than 
 realized. When violent political language was indulged in, 
 her ladyship was filled with anxiety, which was extended to 
 all around. Her fears were so excited, indeed, that it was 
 alleged the pi-ecautions she took to insure the Minister's per- 
 sonal safety, sometimes interfered with the discharge of his 
 imperative functions. 
 
 Of this condition of agitation I remember a ludicrously 
 amusing instance. Having to wait upon Lord R. in White- 
 hall Gardens, I met Mr. Plumer Ward descending as I 
 ascended the stairs. He seemed somewhat confused, and on 
 my being shown into the drawing-room I discovered the 
 cause — the lady of the mansion close by the bell-pull, with 
 her infant child drawn close to her, and pale and trembling 
 with affright. Whether Mr. Ward had said so in conversa- 
 tional jest or not, I cannot tell, but he had described some 
 severe attacks of neuralgia, which affected his head so 
 strangely that nothing could relieve the distressing symp- 
 toms so effectually as (with the assistance of his servant) to 
 be set upon it, like the tumbler at a fair and kept in that 
 position till the pain left him. The poor lady got terrified 
 at what she at once took for a paroxysm of insanity and 
 hurried to the spot where she could give an immediate 
 alarm, for "God help me," she explained, "if he had been 
 seized with one of his wild fits here, how could I and my 
 dear child ever have contrived to set him on his head?" 
 
 Happily there was no occasion; and the boy was spared 
 to be the able and eminent Minister of the Crown we hail 
 at the present day as the Earl de Grey and Ripon. Of his 
 
562 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 father's friendship I had always reason to be proud. He 
 once suggested and patronized an ambition of mine which 
 was smothered in the birth, but did not in the least affect 
 the esteem with which I ever regarded him as one of the 
 best hearted of men, and of great capacity for public affairs, 
 only impaired by his misdoubting the powers he actually 
 possessed. 
 
( 363 ) 
 
 DAYID ROBERTS, R.A. 
 
 I QUESTION if our Native School of Art can ever pro- 
 duce another David Roberts. Not that I think as 
 great painters may not arise as ever have been before, but 
 that new circumstances have occurred which must very 
 materially affect the cultivation of the art, and especially 
 that branch of it in which he so pre-eminently distinguished 
 himself. It was not an unamusing pleasantry, at the time 
 when photography was introduced, to say it was a " Foe to 
 Graphic Art ; " and, if it were so indeed, it must be 
 acknowledged most hostile to the style which excels in the 
 representation of splendid architecture. The modern dis- 
 covery and device of sunlimning, no doubt falls far short of 
 the human hand in the idealized delineation of the " face 
 divine," inasmuch as mere features rarely convey ex- 
 pression ; nor can the camera-lucida display the shades, the 
 tints, the numberless natural beauties of landscape when 
 unimproved by the touch of artistic feeling ; but such 
 themes as a Peter Neefs, a Canaletti, and a Roberts gene- 
 rally selected for the illustration of their masterly pencils, 
 where grandeur or grace of form is of more account than 
 variety or harmony of colour, come better within the 
 adequate range of the sensitive plate and the focal lens. It 
 is on this account that I apprehend there will be less 
 encouragement in this peculiar line than in times past, 
 and, consequently, less chance of supreme excellence. Yet, 
 so long as colour and breadth of execution, as well as minute 
 fidelity, claim high merit in the imitative arts, it may be 
 
364 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 anticipated there will be found accomplished labourers in 
 the field. 
 
 I knew David Roberts for many years, and cherished a 
 friendly regard and sincere esteem for him. "When his 
 sudden death was announced, there mingled with my sorrow 
 for the event a regret that, should I endeavour to record my 
 estimate of his exemplary character, I must fall short of its 
 genuine standard, from my intimacy being limited to the 
 period of his assured success and popular career. By happy 
 accident, however, I learned where the information I desi- 
 derated could be acquired ; and if my readers feel as deep 
 an interest in the communication as I have done, I hope 
 they will not like it the less that I adopt it in the homely 
 Scottish vernacular (so suited to the theme) which it em- 
 ploys. My authority is a lady of birth and station. In 
 gratitude for her kindness I ought, perhaps, to pay compli- 
 ments ; but the spirit which breathes through her narra- 
 tive, as she depicts the noble perseverance, independence, 
 and benevolence of her subject, reveals her own character 
 and asks no eulogy. 
 
 " The parents of David Roberts were both pious people, 
 and worthy and industrious. His father was a shoemaker 
 and cobbler, and his mother a frugal, orderly, and kindly- 
 disposed person, held in good repute by all the well-doing 
 families around the locality where they lived — Stockbridge, 
 near Edinburgh — a place at that time certainly not remark- 
 able for anything but its poverty and immorality. In this 
 atmosphere David and his sister were born and reared, but, 
 happily uninfluenced by its contagion, were both obedient 
 and dutiful children to their parents. " I," continues my kind 
 informant, " became acquainted with them in my walks 
 among the poor in their neighbourhood, and soon discovered 
 that they lived in a very different manner from the most of 
 those about them. I was glad to employ the cobbler as needs 
 might occur, and the boy David came from time to time to our 
 house with shoes or boots, and was always brought up to me 
 
DAVID ROBERTS, R.A. 365 
 
 and rewarded. He regularly attended the village school, 
 where he earned the name of a ' good boy/ and never asso- 
 ciated with idle or bad companions. Always ready and 
 willing to assist his parents in any way, it soon became quite 
 clear, however, that he could never be apprenticed to his 
 father, or take to the waxed thread and awl. He could not 
 have been more than ten years old when his genius began 
 to unfold itself, and proofs of its intensity were not slow 
 in development. One fine summer afternoon his mother, 
 knowing that if she walked to Preston Pans she could get 
 sufficient salt for one shilling to last her for a whole year, 
 took her poke (sack), and Davy with her to carry it home.* 
 This burden he bore cheerfully on their return, till they 
 reached Arthur's Seat, and the sun was setting in the 
 horizon. The sight was too much for the inspired artist. 
 He threw down the bag of salt and exclaimed, ' Oh, mother, 
 dinna be angry, but I canna gang past ; I must study this 
 beautiful scene ! ' And so the old mother had to leave him 
 to his contemplations, and take the poke upon her own 
 back. One day I called to see Mrs. Roberts, and found the 
 gude wife in a little bit of discontent with some mishap that 
 had befallen her. ' Weel, mem,' she said, ' you're real 
 welcome ; but just look what your favourite Davy has done 
 for me. I fought on to whitewash my bonnie room, and it 
 was just dry yestreen. I left him in the house to keej:> the 
 door, and when \ came back — just look, now ! — he had got 
 a stick and burnt the end on't ; and see sic nonsense over a' 
 my bonnie waV I glanced at the wall, and was startled 
 and astonished at the genius there displayed. There were 
 elevations of mountains, of castles, and trees, and other 
 objects of very extraordinary conception and execution. I 
 was absolutely amazed, but turned to the defeated white- 
 washer, whose countenance was filled with dismay, and 
 
 * I need hardly remark that the interest of this sketch is increased, 
 to my mind, by its incidental traits of Scottish habits and manners 
 at the date to which it refers. 
 
366 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 begged her not to scold the boy. ' Something will come out 
 of this, and we must take care to watch his progress.' 
 Perhaps he could not have been more than fourteen years 
 of age at this time. 
 
 " I was absent from Edinburgh for a long period, and on 
 my return went to see how David was getting on. I was 
 then told what misery they had suffered in my absence, for 
 that Davy had gone out one day as usual, and they expected 
 him home to dinner, when, instead of himself, a boy handed 
 in a letter from him, to inform them he was ' off to London !' 
 He was to work his passage up in a Leith smack, with very 
 little in his pocket for further expenses. He also stated 
 that he would not fear of his getting employment, for the 
 manager of the Edinburgh theatre had given him a letter to 
 the Drury Lane manager, and they should soon hear from 
 him where to send their forgiveness, and his sister would 
 write it for them. That first letter speedily arrived, and 
 was brought for me to read. He told them the manager 
 had given him a scene to paint, and had been so pleased 
 with it that he had promised him constant work, by which 
 he should be able to keep himself, and have money besides 
 to send to them. He also requested that his sister should 
 be put to learn a trade, which was done, and she became a 
 capital dressmaker." 
 
 The reader will not be displeased if I here interrupt the 
 narrative, to mention that this sister was»well married, but 
 too soon returned to her parents as a widow, without chil- 
 dren, and was, as my informant expresses it, "a blessed 
 daughter to them to the day of their death." 
 
 " David, meanwhile, advanced step by step, gathered 
 together a little money, and came down to Edinburgh to see 
 his family. He extended the visit to me, and a most cordial 
 meeting we had. He repeated to me what he had been 
 telling at home that he must travel to improve himself. 
 He accordingly took leave of them, and, with his portfolio 
 and a change of linen, off he started. He studied for some 
 
DAVID ROBERTS, R.A. 367 
 
 time in Rome, and then proceeded to Spain ; through which 
 country he walked, sketching every old castle and every 
 point of interest that struck his fancy. He wore the 
 Spanish dress, and soon acquired enough of the language 
 to make himself understood. Thus he remained abroad 
 several years, till, stored with artistic wealth, he finally 
 returned to settle in London. 
 
 " Here he at once attracted the attention of his brother 
 artists and the literaiy men interested in their pursuits, and 
 found patrons competent in judgment and fortune to lift 
 him on his way. Again, in improved circumstances, he 
 visited the humble abode of his worthy parents and sister, 
 and removed them to a comfortable house in Castle Street, 
 providing an ample sufficiency for their support. 
 
 " His next expedition, to Palestine, is familiar to the 
 public ; but few are aware that in every possible place on 
 his route he wrote long and interesting letters to his good 
 aged mother, giving an account of his travels, and the re- 
 markable things which came under his observation. These 
 she always carried about with her, because he referred her 
 to chapter and verse in the New Testament, where she 
 could read of the places and scenes he had sketched, to 
 illustrate the work on the Holy Land in which he was 
 engaged. During his absence, Castle Street was abundantly 
 supplied, from a friend commissioned in London, with chests 
 of tea. boxes of oranges and other fruit, or whatever his 
 parents could fancy ; and immediately on his return he 
 hurried down, with filial love and piety, to assure himself 
 that all was as well as he could hope or desire. Though 
 only a few days in Edinburgh, he arranged that his water- 
 colour drawings should be exhibited in Princes Street, just 
 as he had taken them in Palestine ; and they naturally 
 created a great popular sensation, and drew crowds to the 
 view. I thought it was a pity that the devout old mother 
 should lose the sight of what must be so gratifying to her, 
 and, as she was now too feeble to walk so far, took her and 
 
368 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 her daughter in a carriage to the 'show.' As no one could 
 induce her to change her style of dress, the little close 
 black bonnet on the top of her head, and the little old- 
 fashioned cloak round her shoulders, made her ' noticeable' 
 in the throng ; and, as she was unable to stand long enough 
 to enjoy the full examination of the sacred spots, I pro- 
 cured a chair, in which she was moved about, to the mani- 
 fest amusement of many of the spectators, who were struck 
 with the quaint little figure, and its peculiar manners. One 
 intimate friend of my own came up and asked me, ' Who in 
 the world is that odd-looking little old wifey you are caring 
 for so much V 1 answered, ' The mother of Mr. Roberts/ 
 The intelligence flew through the room, and our little old 
 wifey became the object of immense consideration. At this 
 time the aged father was quite paralyzed ; he never came 
 downstairs after their removal to their new abode, which I 
 never fancied they liked quite as well as their former 
 humble dwelling. He lingered some time, and when he 
 passed away his good son David hastened from London 
 to attend his remains to the grave, and gave him a most 
 respectable and well-attended funeral. His mother lived 
 some years after ; and it was a pleasure to listen to her 
 constant chant in praise of the noble child who had done so 
 much for his thankful parents — thankful to him, and thank- 
 ful to heaven, for so great a mercy. 
 
 " Believing that such anecdotes as these must be accept- 
 able, as they relate to an eminent man, and to afford to 
 every class of society a fine lesson for imitation in the 
 domestic virtues, I offer no apology for prolonging my 
 narrative through a later period. I must, however, begin 
 inauspiciously. 
 
 " David Roberts was not happy in marriage with a beau- 
 tiful girl, the daughter of a farmer in Argyleshire. They 
 separated, and she returned, well provided for, to her 
 family, leaving him an only daughter, the pride and delight 
 of his latter years. When I and my sister visited the 
 
DAVID ROBERTS, R.A. 369 
 
 metropolis in 1845, we shortly found our way to his address 
 in Fitzroy Street, and were ushered into his studio before 
 he was aware of our being in town. His reception passes 
 any description I can give of it, and we afterwards dined 
 with a small select party at his house. We were seated on 
 his right and left, and when the servants had quitted the 
 room he caused us almost to shed tears of shame by rising 
 and saying : ' My friends, fill a bumper. I call upon you 
 to share my feelings of joy and gratification, for this is the 
 proudest day of my life, when I see at my table the friends 
 who have been so good to me always, and who have been 
 such precious friends to my aged parents and widowed 
 sister — who did so much for them, and cheered the evening 
 of their days.' His feelings quite gave way for a few 
 moments ; and I mention this not from vanity, but to show 
 what a man David Roberts was. 
 
 " As another trait of his character, I should state that, 
 on the stone over his parents' remains, in the Calton Hill 
 burial-ground (the design for which he himself drew for the 
 sculptor), he records that his father had been a shoemaker 
 in Stockbridge — to me a touching instance of admirable 
 humbleness of mind, unimpaired by the seductions of 
 prosperity and flatteries of fame. 
 
 " On his last visit to Scotland he wished to trace some 
 poor relations who, he had discovered from some of his 
 mother's letters, lived at St. Andrews. He told me of his 
 errand, and went there. They were not to be heard of at 
 their former address, and he inquired at the post-office, 
 where, luckily, the name was known >• and he was informed 
 of an aged couple who resided in a small house near at 
 hand, to which he got a boy to guide him. Upon entering 
 he found the objects of his search sitting close to the fire. 
 They stared at their strange visitor, and exclaimed, ' Wha 
 be ye, and what d'ye want V He replied by asking them if 
 they had any near relations, and was answered, ' Nane but 
 a laddie, Davy Roberts ; but he's nae acquaintance wi' hiz.' 
 
 2 B 
 
370 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN". 
 
 David told tliera he was the ' laddie,' and had never known 
 of them till very lately ; that he must hasten back to his 
 work in London ; and, taking a ten-pound bank-note from 
 his pocket-book, presented it to the astonished pair. The 
 old man gazed at it and exclaimed to his wife, ' Keep me ! 
 the Lord hae a care o' hiz ! It's ten pounds ! it will keep 
 hiz in a' we want ; and, what is mair, it will gie hiz a 
 decent burial ! ' ' No, no,' said their benefactor ; ' you 
 must use it, and get every comfort, and I will lodge more 
 at the bank in your name ; and just draw it out as you 
 need it. Good-bye ! ' " 
 
 With these extracts I close my manuscript references. To 
 my appreciation they well deserve more attention, perhaps, 
 than their lowly and familiar nature might seem to seek ; 
 for they reveal the characteristics of an individual who 
 may be set before the world as an excellent representative 
 type of the Scottish man. I look upon him as a model 
 fit for the study and improvement of every class of his 
 countrymen. With love of the dear native land, there is 
 the yet more potent and devoted affection for parents — 
 especially for the mother. Here, indeed, the common 
 patriotic and domestic affections were tinged by genius ; 
 and we the more admire the peculiar forms in which they 
 sometimes ministered their offices, just as we picture to our- 
 selves the youthful Scot, traversing bi-oad Spain like a 
 romantic minstrel, and compare him with the steady and 
 sedate Royal Academician of our later time. We have many 
 biographies of the early lives of great foreign, chiefly Italian, 
 artists, and follow with curious interest the minute details of 
 incident which seemed to mark them for a splendid future. 
 Surely the salt-poke of Davy Roberts is a story not to be 
 forgotten in the annals of the Fine Arts. The narrative of 
 my correspondent says nothing of his being brought up as 
 a house-painter, probably because he was so employed when 
 the writer was absent from Edinburgh. He served his ap- 
 prenticeship to Mr. Beugo, a house-painter and decorator. 
 
DAVID ROBERTS, R.A. 371 
 
 Any practice in that trade would be congenial with his dis- 
 position, and something of colouring and handling the brush, 
 coarse as it was, would not be thrown away upon the 
 burnt-stick delineator of battlements and forests. There 
 was, at any rate, breadth in the sweep not inapplicable to 
 scene-painting, and in all his productions the artist showed 
 that he possessed this power when he chose to exhibit it, 
 either upon grand architectural subjects, or in conjunction 
 with the finest touches of Neefs-like art. 
 
 In his personal, as in his professional life, there was the 
 same rare combination of laudable principles. His feelings 
 were all kindly and affectionate, his benevolence was judicious 
 and liberal. I believe his charitable acts were more nume- 
 rous than was apprehended ; for he never spoke of them, 
 and they were done in secret, as the visit to St. Andrews, 
 in the uncommon search for poor relations. Plain, out- 
 spoken, and unpretending in manners, he always displayed 
 the intelligence of an originally sound understanding, and 
 the information of one who had travelled far and wide, 
 seen much of the business of life, and enjoyed the advan- 
 tages of constant intercourse with the best of social circles. 
 Of his unreserve, or plain speaking, a correspondent in 
 a Scotch newspaper {Kelso Mail) relates the following 
 specimen : — 
 
 " At one of Her Majesty's private visits to the Royal 
 Academy Exhibition, it was David's lot to attend upon her. 
 In reply to some royal observations he quite forgot the ob- 
 sequious sycophancy belonging to court etiquette, and gave 
 his opinion freely upon a matter which referred to the royal 
 children and their portraits. The train of courtiers were 
 horrified, and other Royal Academicians stood aghast ; but 
 the Queen was amused, and the next day gave her volunteer 
 adviser a commission to paint a picture connected (if I re- 
 member rightly) with the subject of their conversation." 
 
 Before concluding I shall simply allude to the other Scot- 
 tish traits with which my friend was endowed, and which, 
 2 b 2 
 
372 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 united with those I have specified, tended to render his career 
 as an artist as elevated as his relations as a man were enviable. 
 These attributes were prudence, perseverance, industry and 
 integrity, all which were his in a paramount degree. 
 
 Of the multitude, variety, and excellence of his produc- 
 tions, it is not for a sketch of this kind to treat. His ex- 
 hibited works have long been acknowledged the foremost in 
 the style to which they belong ; but the artist's eye and 
 hand were not confined to cathedral or other architectural 
 and cognate subjects. I one day chanced to take a learned 
 Asiatic traveller in England to a place (the Garrick Club) 
 where a gift-picture by Roberts was hung. It represented 
 a desert scene in Palestine, and my companion, with an 
 involuntary start, exclaimed, "Ah! who painted that? 
 How he must have seen and studied the camel ! none else 
 could give its very tread and motion." 
 
 And I expect that wonderful proofs of this skill — far out 
 of his usual line — various and masterly, will appear when a 
 selection from his portfolios comes to be published. I under- 
 stand that Mrs. Bicknell, his justly- beloved daughter, has, 
 with the sanction of his executors, her husband, and Mr. 
 Joseph Arden, confided her father's correspondence, notes of 
 travel, and diaries, to the charge of Mr. Colnaghi, with a 
 view to publication. 
 
 He died at his house, 7, Fitzroy-street, on the 25th of 
 November, 1864, at the age of sixty-eight. He was buried 
 on the 2nd of December, at Norwood Cemetery, in a pri- 
 vate manner, as was his wish. The date of his birth (at 
 Stockbridge, Edinburgh) was October 2 -1th, 17i)6. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 My sketch of David Roberts was written so recently that I 
 cannot return to tax my memory farther as yet, though 
 
DAVID ROBERTS, R.A. 373 
 
 what I have clone is nearly all the produce of another mind, 
 and not of mine. My intimacy with him was much culti- 
 vated in social, as well as friendly meetings at the Garrick 
 Club, of which he was a member for thirty years, whilst 
 his associate R. A., Clarkson Stanfield, and I, were 
 among the founders only four years before. It is 
 worthy of remark how on all occasions that called for 
 public notice the names of these two eminent artists 
 happened to be linked together. It looked almost like 
 their being in partnership ; and so they were, but it was 
 only in the firmest ties of the warmest friendship. They 
 started in life nearly together — in the opening prime of life; 
 over the age of majority they worked together in the paint- 
 ing of dramatic scenery ; a few years more saw them candi- 
 dates for station in the Royal Academy, and the last of their 
 course has been run with the bravest perseverance and most 
 unblemished honour till, crowned with success and fame, one 
 has reached the end of all his labours, and the other remains, 
 I fear, more rudely touched by the hand of Time than the 
 wide circle of those who admire and esteem him would 
 desire. I had retired from the Garrick shortly before the 
 death of David Roberts ; and Stanfield, unable to bear the 
 resort where his loss would ever be intensely brought home 
 to him, withdrew immediately after the sad event. 
 
 "While climbing the hill (though near the top) Roberts had 
 another attached friend and liberal patron in Lord Monson, 
 whose premature death (1841) he deeply regretted. His 
 lordship was a most accomplished amateur artist, a charming 
 draughtsman, and possessed of the finest taste. He was 
 adorning Gatton with the choicest productions of native art 
 when cut off at the age of thirty-three. Roberts' " Jeru- 
 salem," painted for him at the suggestion of VVilkie, was a 
 fine feature in his accumulating collection. 
 
 When David sailed for Egypt and the Holy Land, it was 
 in my power to give him letters of introduction to a friend 
 of some influence in Alexandria, which, I rejoiced to learn, 
 
374 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 were of service. As a recognition, he brought home a 
 mummy, under comic pretence that it was for me, but which 
 was unrolled at his own residence by our worthy intimate, 
 Mr. Pettigrew, with much ostentation and ceremony. It 
 was made rather festive, for aught funereal. My fiancee 
 proved to be an illustrious princess and priest's daughter, 
 called Mona or Nona something — I have forgotten the name 
 — but her favours, strips of linen rags torn from the wrap- 
 pings, were munificently distributed, and the numerous com- 
 pany departed without shedding a tear. 
 
 Given a decent length of time beyond the grave, and with 
 us all the mummy might serve for a moral lesson. 
 
 ^ 
 
( 375 ) 
 
 SAMUEL ROGERS. 
 
 REMINISCENCES of the late poet and banker have 
 i recently been published ; but they tell us little about 
 him, except that he kept a sort of note memorandum of what 
 happened to be said by certain distinguished men when in 
 his company. The record is very scanty, and much of it so 
 curt and fragmentary as to have no applicable meaning, and 
 the bard of " Memory" himself has no figure on the cartoon. 
 What I remember of him possesses little of " the pleasures 
 of memory," and may perhaps be as little interesting ; but 
 he filled for many years a singular space in the public eye, 
 and a few touches may include him in my miniature gallery 
 of " Men I have Known." 
 
 Rogers was reputed a wit, and did say some good things ; 
 but many of the best were said by others, and fathered 
 upon him (as the use is), especially when there was any 
 bitterness in the joke, which was his characteristic. His 
 going to Holland House by the Hammersmith stage-coach 
 (in days when cabs and omnibuses were unknown), and 
 asking the loitering driver what he called it, is not one of 
 his worst : being answered, ; ' The Regulator," he observed 
 that it was a very proper name, as all the rest go by it. 
 Luttrell and Rogers were intimate friends and rival wits, 
 and disliked each other accordingly. I have used the word 
 friend, but it did not appear that the nonogenarian (what- 
 ever he might have enjoyed half a century before) had any 
 friends. I never saw about him any but acquaintances or 
 toadies. Had he outdived them ? No ; he was not of a 
 nature to have friends. He was born with the silver spoon 
 
376 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 in his mouth, and had never needed a friend in his long, easy 
 journey through life. The posthumous laudation lavished 
 upon him by his political cronies was purely of the de 
 mortuis nil nisi bonum kind. He never received that coin 
 when alive ; for, if the truth be told, his liberality and 
 generosity were small specks which could not bear blazon, 
 and he was radically ill tempered. Now, nobody can love a 
 cantankerous person, even though placed in such fortunate 
 circumstances as not to be always offensive. His whole 
 career was too sunny. There were neither clouds nor 
 showers to nourish the sensitive plants which adorn 
 humanity — nothing but showy sunflowers. No lovely dew- 
 dipped blossoms ; no sweet buddings of refreshing scent ; no 
 soft green tufts sending up grateful incense, as when 
 varying seasons produce their beneficial influence, and the 
 breezes and the rains (ay, the storms) from heaven serve 
 but to root and expand the spirit's growth. 
 
 Few men who have had nothing but an even tenor of 
 their way, are duly touched with feeling for the distresses 
 of their fellow creatures, a touch of which they have never 
 experienced. In the absence of any higher motive to 
 benevolence, there was not even a trace of bonhomie 
 about Rogers. Sarcasm and satire were his social weapons. 
 Kindness and geniality do not crop out in any account of 
 him that I have seen ; and this negative describes the 
 individual of whom I did not care to know much. The 
 constant little bickering competitions between him and 
 Luttrell were very entertaining to some minds. They met 
 once, and did not squabble. It was in the Crystal Palace, 
 into which they were both wheeled in chairs, when no 
 longer able to walk ! * 
 
 * This meeting reminds me of the story told of Lord North and 
 Colonel Barre meeting at Tunbridge Wells Spa, when both were blind 
 with age. " Ah, Colonel," said the witty ex-Premier, " you used to 
 abuse me much in the House, and I retorted ; but now we should 
 be very glad to see each other." 
 
SAMUEL ROGERS. 377 
 
 Taste, or in another word, refinement, like avarice or 
 gluttony, tends essentially to selfishness ; and in Rogers I 
 marked a signal type of the class, with a very small modicum 
 of the redeeming feeling which occasionally qualifies it. I 
 have known men of the most refined taste who were also 
 distinguished by the sweetest of human sympathies. In 
 these, however, taste was only a lesser component part of 
 the being, not a ruling and engrossing passion — if passion 
 it can be called, which is so abstractly passionless. 
 
 In his writings, as in his daily life, Mr. Rogers was 
 fastidious. In correcting the press, only Campbell could 
 equal him for anxiety to polish. On one occasion I chanced 
 to see a sheet of one of his poems (" Italy," I think) as it 
 was passing through the printer's hands, and pointed out 
 some very slight errors. The reader told him of this hyper- 
 criticism (for it was nothing more), and he cancelled the 
 whole of the impression, and introduced the required altera- 
 tions at the expense of above £100. In other respects he 
 would not be guilty of anything like extravagance. On 
 the contrary, there was a curious spice of the miser-economy 
 in his nature. He was fond of going to evening parties, 
 at homes, conversaziones, or however called by fashion ; 
 and instead of being attended by his carriage, as a wealthy 
 man, he would walk home with his umbrella. It was upon 
 an occasion of this kind that he met with the accident which 
 crippled him during his later years, and no doubt hastened 
 his death. Yet, when his bank was robbed, he did not 
 show the least regret for his loss, only an intense desire to 
 discover the plunderers. 
 
 His almost open breakfast parties, of three or four artists 
 or literary men who had the entree, were pleasant enough, 
 from the news and gossip gathered into them ; and his 
 dinners, wisely limited in the number of the guests, abound- 
 ing in luxuries, usually graced by distinguished individuals, 
 and sometimes by most interesting groups, must be classed 
 among those high social enjoyments which few have the 
 
378 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 means to command, and fewer still know how to accomplish 
 and appreciate. 
 
 His personal appearance was extraordinary, or rather, 
 his countenance was unique. His skull and facial expres- 
 sion bore so striking a likeness to the skeleton pictures 
 which we sometimes see of Death, that the facetious Sydney 
 Smith (at one of the dressed evening parties I have spoken 
 of) entitled him the " Death-dandy ! " and it was told 
 (probably with truth) that the same satirical wag inscribed 
 upon the capital portrait in his breakfast room, " Painted 
 in his life-time." 
 
 "Withal, Rogers possessed refined and elegant tastes ; and 
 his cultivation of poetry exalted his mind above its inherent 
 worldliness, as far as was possible in one devoid of the 
 nobler influences which transform and elevate humanity. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Upon the reperusal of this Character, and a knowledge of 
 other circumstances communicated to me, I feel bound to 
 acknowledge that I appear to have pressed rather severely 
 upon Mr. Rogers. He was very irritable and not very 
 amiable, but it may be too much to say that he had not 
 " any friends." I am inclined to believe that he had at 
 least one, and an independent one, in the Rev. Alexander 
 Dyce, our pre-eminent Critic and Commentator, who, by 
 the way completed W. Gifford's edition of Shirley, after his 
 death — a task which I presume there was hardly another 
 literary man in existence competent to undertake and so 
 ably complete. Should, hereafter, any satisfactory memoirs 
 of Rogers ever come to light, I might (if spared), and the 
 public should look to the same eminent authority for the 
 desirable work. For Rogers has left something for futurity, 
 
SAMUEL ROGERS. 379 
 
 of higher quality and lasting claim than the rhyme 
 allowed. 
 
 " May Rogers, who may well delight, 
 In giving artists occupation, 
 Be occupied himself, and write 
 Another book for illustration." 
 
 His great anxiety to be correct in his compositions I have 
 noticed ; and the same feeling seems to have operated in 
 making him j ealovis of competition. He certainly did not 
 like Campbell much, nor to hear the Pleasures of Hope too 
 much praised. 
 
 The Pleasures of Hope and the Pleasures of Memory, 
 were not always in accord ; but a good-humoured Mem. 
 of Mr. Rogers, in 1847, says " Campbell was once very angry 
 with me — so angry, that we hardly spoke for three years. 
 It was not my fault ; it was because Sir James Macintosh 
 reported what I had said one evening, among ourselves — 
 simply and nothing more than this : No man, I said, does 
 much good, who makes literature a profession. If he be 
 engaged in business during the day, literary occupation will 
 be a luxury, otherwise a burden. I was my father's clerk 
 when I wrote my poem, labouring from nine or ten to four 
 or five o'clock in the office. After office hours, poetry and 
 composition were a delightful resource. "Why does not 
 our friend Campbell adopt the same plan ? Better scribble, 
 were it only names — for eight hours of the day, than make 
 literature a trade. This, as I said, was repeated to Camp- 
 bell, who, thinking it implied degradation to literature, was 
 offended. But it is practically true ; Charles Lamb, who 
 promised to do good things after receiving his conge from 
 the desk, never did anything." 
 
 It is a remarkable coincidence that Dr. William Beattie, 
 the author of several works (chiefly illustrated), displaying 
 great taste and talent, should have attended as their friend 
 and physician, and closed the dying eyes of both these Poets. 
 
380 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Hope and Memory were no more opposites. They were 
 alike there. 
 
 When Rogers' bank was robbed, Edward Forbes drew a 
 charming design for a monument of the banker. He was 
 recumbent in all the force of humorous caricature, and 
 bank paper was flying up like sparks from a firework — the 
 quotation was 
 
 " The trembling notes ascend the sky." 
 
 In memory how strangely do such different recollections 
 spring from their recesses and crowd up together. Life is a 
 Jest : I thought so once, and &c. 
 
 If Mr. Rogers was not blest with the best of tempers, he 
 had, notwithstanding, a kind heart. His poetical tribute to 
 Byron, at Bologna, in his " Italy " is a very fine example of 
 the best of feelings for a friend. 
 
 It may be curious to note the different lights in which an 
 opulent banker is presented to view. In the society in 
 which be mixes, there is no member more easy, more 
 amiable, more estimable, more respected. But go and visit 
 him on business in his back room or den, and you encounter 
 another being. If also wealthy, you may get through with 
 a dull formality, and perhaps a shake by the hand on 
 parting. But if there be a difficulty or a want, — the 
 pleasant companion is no more ! Cold, cautious, defiant — you 
 may transact the affair or not, but you feel relieved when you 
 get away unscathed from the interview. A banker in his 
 sanctum, is more like an attorney in his office — seldom an 
 agreeable person ; but indeed the very name of attorney is 
 so generally an aversion, that many of the profession usually 
 shirk it, and call themselves solicitors. I have known 
 many excellent men among them, for all that. 
 
 ^^Cj,^^-^- -^ <-n-<^^j&_^ 
 
 
( 381 ) 
 
 SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS. 
 
 THE deep interest I felt in the Arctic expeditions has been 
 evidenced in the several reminiscences I have devoted 
 to their eminent commanders, two of whom, Franklin and 
 Crozier, perished in the cause, leaving me to mourn the loss 
 of friends I valued sincerely, and from whom I had parted, 
 at the outset of their voyages, when they were full of energy 
 and hope. They feared no " thick-ribbed ice : " it was all 
 sunshine in their horizon of the morning, and they looked 
 to a calm and bright evening of life, when they should be 
 happily restored to their homes, to enjoy every private en- 
 dearment and public honour, made only more delightful by 
 the dangers through which they had passed. Eheu! Deo 
 aliter visum,. But their names live in the pages of history, 
 and in a higher record, for they were good as well as brave 
 men. 
 
 With James Clark Ross I had the good fortune to enjoy 
 a longer and more intimate friendship than with any other 
 of his gallant associates. I saw him sail on all his perilous 
 adventures, and I witnessed and welcomed his auspicious 
 returns, crowned with results of the deepest interest to the 
 intellectual world. He had been where never prow of ship 
 had ploughed the sea or dared the iceberg before ; he had 
 devised access to the unfathomable caves of ocean ; he had 
 enlightened almost every material science by practical 
 experiment and important exploration ; and geography, 
 navigation, magnetism, natural history, meteorology, all 
 received illustration from his devoted labours. In his 
 
382 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 sphere he was as distinguished a benefactor to humanity as 
 the widely extended compass of his duties rendered possible, 
 the pattern of a naval officer and the model of a .social man. 
 Highly as I admired and esteemed his compeers in these 
 great enterprises, I could not but regard hiin as "the 
 noblest Roman of them all." 
 
 In early boyhood he entered the Eoyal Navy, and, con- 
 sidering the limited nature of his opportunities, must have 
 been gifted with rare talents to master those acquirements 
 which marked him as no ordinary character before he was 
 twenty years of age, and accumulated so perpetually as to 
 render him extraordinary and famous to the close of his 
 well-spent life. The result is not the less memorable, inas- 
 much as he was brought up, no I educated, under the com- 
 mand of his uncle Sir John Ross, also of North Polar 
 celebrity, and who had acted bravely in the service, but who 
 was not the most likely person to direct junior footsteps in 
 the paths that lead to distinction through the arduous toils 
 of mental cultivation. Requiescat in puce. By his own 
 resolute perseverance the young James Ross advanced far 
 into the intricate regions of science, and was taught, like his 
 illustrious friend General Edward Sabine, to solve those 
 problems which are throwing so wonderful a light upon the 
 motive elements of our globe and the true condition of our 
 earth and of the universe. The two were comrades in Sir 
 John Franklin's voyage to the Arctic Seas in 1818-19, and I 
 may safely state that their companionship was productive of 
 much of the fruits which have since so greatly benefited the 
 intellectual world. In magnetism alone the researches of 
 these scientific brothers have develoj>ed laws on which all 
 future exjjeriments must rest, and the solution of all further 
 problems be based. And what a place to start from. It 
 was as if the finger of Providence had pointed it out. It 
 was on one of his missions from the ship which reflected 
 neaily all the value and honour upon the voyage, that James 
 Ross ascertained the great fact which was a main object of 
 
SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS. 383 
 
 all their exertions. Guided by scientific skill, and insensible 
 to the appalling fatigue and privations of the way, he con- 
 ducted his gallant party to that point where they saw the 
 needle deflected downwards right into the bosom of the 
 earth. Playful as was the record mirthfully " sung out " on 
 the occasion, it was sufficient to fix an immortal name on — 
 
 " Sir James Clark Ross, the first whose sole 
 Stood on the North Magnetic Pole ! " 
 
 I am free to state that upon his energy, enterprise, and 
 intelligence, his uncle, Sir John Eoss, chiefly built the 
 edifice of his own exaltation ; but James Clark had enough 
 and to spare for the use of relative, associate, or competitor. 
 His voyages under the command of the kindred spirit, the 
 gallant Sir Edward Parry, fully trained him for the separate 
 responsibility he, in after years, so largely undertook and so 
 bravely answered. From first to last his conduct was truly 
 noble. I shall not, however, do more than offer a few brief 
 traits relating to these expeditions, seeing that their most 
 important results have been laid before the world in the 
 valuable volumes which have appeared from his pen. 
 
 It may be remarked of our intrepid polar explorers, that 
 in all they said in print and all they have been in the habit 
 of saying, vivd voce, when forced into conversation about 
 their travel, they have been very remarkable for their manly, 
 unassuming spirit. I have never heard one of them hint at 
 aught the least heroic in their wonderful exploits, nor even 
 give a touch of pathos to the details of their desperate en- 
 durance of killing vicissitudes. It seemed always to be 
 "orders obeyed," and "duty done," and that was the be-all 
 and the end-all of their story. By chance, perhaps, some 
 small anecdote might transpire, and serve as a key to in- 
 numerable hardships and privations. Thus I remember 
 being out one day in Buckinghamshire, shooting with Eoss 
 and his friend and surgeon the estimable Mr. Beverley. In 
 beating a copse we accidentally started a fox. A gun was 
 
384 MEN t HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 up. " Ah, don't fire ! there are few enough hereabouts for 
 the hunt •" and so reynard scampered unscathed away ; and 
 something like the following was elicited from the conversa- 
 tion of the two old messmates. They had been out from the 
 ships longer than their provision lasted, and were ravenously 
 hungry on their march to get back. There was no edible 
 nor living creature to shoot, but luckily they found a dead 
 fox, which, however, was only partially preserved by the' 
 ice from putridity. But fox-meat, though "high," served 
 better than no meat ; a fire was made, and one of the party, 
 assuming to be the best cook, took upon himself the task of 
 preparing dinner. The fumes rose gratefully to the nostrils 
 of the two officers, and at last the roasted vermin was set 
 before them. But oh, the Barmecide feast, or Sancho Panza 
 dinner, whose savoury odours had so excited appetite ! The 
 extemporized cook of that day had neglected to remove the 
 gall, and the dish was so bitter bad that even a hungry dog 
 could not have eaten of it. It was a sore disappointment, 
 but only one of a thousand to which our hardy sailors were 
 exposed during these persevering attempts to explore the 
 north-west passage and the frozen Arctic Seas. I almost 
 fancied my companions were sorry not to take their revenge 
 by a shot at the fox that was allowed to escape. But they 
 were sportsmen enough to deny the impeachment. 
 
 The description of a more serious and perilous condition I 
 gathered from snatches of conversation led by a few inquiries 
 on my part. On the occasion referred to the ship got jammed 
 into drifting ice — without power of motion or possibility of 
 escape — and was borne hither and thither at the mercy of 
 the treacherous element. They knew not whei*e they might 
 be driven — it seemed as if to some farther desolate, ice-locked 
 bourne whence no traveller could hope to return, impervious 
 to human effort, fatal to human existence. Every officer 
 and man was sensible of this impending, and apparently in- 
 evitable fate. Still, their calm bearing appeared as if it were 
 a forestalling of the silence of the grave. On the meeting 
 
SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS. 385 
 
 of every morning, when all eyes were turned to examine for 
 signs of destruction or deliverance, not the slightest expres- 
 sion of despondency could be traced on a single countenance, 
 nor a whisper of fear be heard from any lip. They looked 
 on each other as if death could be read on every comrade's 
 face, whilst the " taking note " of this awful presage was un- 
 accompanied by any consciousness of their common danger. 
 All was darkly portentous ; but there was no despair — not 
 even a passing evidence of apprehension of the destined 
 result to which they seemed to be helplessly hurrying on. 
 Fervent and pious were the prayers, but they were dumb. 
 Sailors are said to be superstitious, and their lives, spent in 
 watching indications and looking to events, may lead to 
 this feeling ; but a large number of sailors are also religious, 
 truly religious. Their rescue from perils, their salvation 
 from imminent destruction, their almost miraculous and 
 constant preservation, teach them to believe in and rely 
 upon that Providence that cares for their sustenance and 
 safety. And, above all, men who have been exposed to the 
 privations and dangers of these severely trying services soon 
 learn to know how little help they possess in themselves, 
 and how entirely they are in the keeping of a Divine, 
 omniscient, and omnipotent Power. Upon this they fix a 
 reliance more sublime than can even be imagined by the 
 thousands, however thoughtful, who pass their days hardly 
 exposed to a risk, and can form no idea of that consistent 
 sense of impending fate which stirs up the depth and 
 sincerity of providential faith and trust in the sailor's in- 
 most soul. 
 
 In confirmation of these remarks I appeal to all who have 
 read the narratives of the Arctic exploring expeditions, if the 
 true Christian tone of these books is not as strikingly con- 
 spicuous as the heroic performance of merely professional 
 duties 1 
 
 Such was the condition of that subdued circle, whose 
 admirable bearing language could but poorly describe. 
 2 c 
 
386 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 What men could do they did ; hut their world of ice went 
 driving on — whither 1 None could tell, but evidently to a 
 miserable death. But the merciful Providence was with 
 them there. Suddenly and unconsciously as they had been 
 left in the inexorable ice, so suddenly and unconsciously 
 were they relieved from their dreadful situation. Almost 
 without a warning, the solid field broke up, and split, and 
 separated in every direction. There was a sea for the ship 
 to move in ; and no time was lost in the cutting away of 
 every obstacle, and extricating her from her prison. Hope 
 sprang up once more, and smiling visions of home replaced 
 the dismal dream of death beyond the ken of humankind. 
 
 Before I bring to a close my recollections of my friend, I 
 should notice, in connection with his public career, that, in 
 his expedition in search of his old and loved comrade 
 Franklin, he reached that point at which all (the all who 
 perished in that fatal attempt) might have been saved. The 
 time and place agreed, but, alas ! it was otherwise ordained. 
 Unhappily the wanderers took another line, towards the 
 northern continent of America, and the mournful result we 
 all now know. Had they directed their steps to where Ross 
 was shaping his difficult course and exploring every accessible 
 shore, there they would have found succour in abundance, 
 and the means of a joyful return to their native land. The 
 remembrance of this possibility often brought a pang of 
 regret to the mind of their defeated deliverer. It was one 
 of these painful Ifs which, on looking back, poor mortals 
 find often recurring to distress them. Oh, if some good 
 angel could have whispered to Franklin and Crozier that 
 their anxious old messmate was near enough to rescue 
 them ! Had they only been aware whither to turn, how 
 happy would the meeting have been ! But the knowledge 
 was hidden ; the if was a mere after-breathing of fond 
 aspiration : the calamitous destiny of our lamented country- 
 men it was not in human hands to modify or avert. 
 
 The antarctic expedition of Boss and Crozier was full of 
 
SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS. 387 
 
 new interest. Captain Cook had reached the latitude of 
 71° 5', and the undaunted Captain James "Weddell,* in 
 the merchant service, had penetrated above two hundred 
 miles farther south, 74° 15', in 1823-4; whilst for Ross it 
 was reserved to explore far and wide still more southern 
 regions of open sea and ice and unknown lands. Of Weddell's 
 daring voyage in the years 1822-3-4, he entertained a very 
 high opinion, and in his own well-provided voyage, amid 
 dangers even greater than in the Arctic circle, learnt to ap- 
 preciate the dangers of the ice and the true British sailor's 
 spirit which had navigated his two pigmy boats through all 
 the perils and terrors of that extraordinary navigation. 
 How much more of that vast antarctic ocean the indefatig- 
 able efforts of Ross, and his perseverance to the last possible 
 limit, revealed to the world, may be found in the able volume 
 which he published on his return. It only remains for me 
 here to note of it that, among other discoveries of a more 
 valuable and useful kind, he discovered that the famous 
 American, Commodore Wilkes, had made out land and 
 attached to it the flag of the United States where no land 
 existed. Having sailed over this pretended continent, 
 Captain Ross took the trouble to expose the vain-glorious 
 boaster, and he was publicly convicted of false pretensions 
 and the assertion of absolute inventions. 
 
 Wilkes is said never to have forgiven this exposure, and 
 
 * Captain Weddell, who was, at the peace, a Master in the Royal 
 Navy, in 1825 published an account of his mercantile voyage in the 
 brig Jane, of 160, and cutter Beaufoy, of 65 tons. His mission was 
 in search of the haunts of fur-seals ; but his love of bold adventure 
 and geographical research impelled him far beyond the resorts of 
 animal life. At his utmost south there was nothing to be seen but 
 an open sea. His narrative is not only valuable for seamen, but 
 altogether so replete with anecdotes of dangerous incident, and evi- 
 dence of cool determination and nautical skill, as to rank the name 
 of Weddell high with the Hudsons, Baffins, Frobishers, and other 
 cognate worthies of the olden times. 
 
 2 c 2 
 
388 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 his embittered feelings towards all Englishmen were evi- 
 dent even so long afterwards as in the insolent affair of the 
 Trent, in the recent American internecine war. At first, 
 some excuse might have been offered for Wilkes, on the 
 ground of an axiom I have heard Ross prefer for better 
 purposes. There was some remark made that the Duke of 
 Wellington was obstinate, and never would confess to an 
 error. " And perfectly right too," he observed; "it would 
 never do for military or naval leaders to own to mistakes ; 
 when made, they must cover and remedy them as best they 
 can ; but to have those under command taught to impeach 
 their judgment and to question their fitness would be to lose 
 that confidence without which they never could accomplish 
 any great design." But this leaves no excuse for the ran- 
 cour which remained in Wilkes towards the countrymen of 
 the man who had discovered and exposed his false claim as 
 a discoverer. 
 
 Firm as the rock was Ross at sea. But I must now view 
 him honoured by his sovereign, applauded by his country, 
 and loved and esteemed by all who knew him. Well was 
 he entitled to reward ; nobly had he earned repose. The 
 best and the last awaited him. After a short while I met 
 him with cordial wishes. " I have embarked on my voyage 
 of life," he said ; and calm and bright was the prospect. He 
 was a man of very strong affections, a warm and faithful 
 friend, a devoted husband, and a fond father ; and, as far as 
 human wisdom could penetrate, the edifice of his bliss was 
 built on solid foundations. She, the crown of his toils, had 
 waited for her wandering sailor — dreading evexy accident to 
 which he was exposed in his daring career — hoping high 
 against every rumour of disaster, true as the needle to the 
 pole, and constant to the one pledged point of attraction. 
 She relied on a benign Providence to protect the man of her 
 heart and choice through the manifold dangers of his perilous 
 undertakings, and restore him to her for their mutual happi- 
 ness and supreme reward. Ultimately that happiness was 
 
SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS. 389 
 
 realized ; and I am bound to say that a more perfect state of 
 married felicity could not be imagined. Ah me, that it should 
 prove of so brief a span ! At Aston Abbott, in the quiet 
 rural scenery by the vale of Aylesbury, enjoying what they 
 wished of neighbouring society, and entertaining attached 
 friends at home, surely their life was a pleasant one, and, 
 above all, their tastes and habits and opinions were ever in 
 accord ; from the slightest to the greatest matters there was 
 nothing but harmony. Three children blessed their union, 
 and if ever an observer could affirm there were two human 
 sympathies concentrated in one, it might have been affirmed 
 of Sir James and Lady Ross, in their pleasant country re- 
 treat, endowed with a competency, delighting in the same 
 recreations, charities, pursuits, loving together, and beloved 
 by all around them.. I draw this picture with a faithful 
 pencil ; there is do over-colouring. It is most sorrowful to 
 retrace the warm features ; and yet I seem to dwell upon 
 them till, to my darkening eyes, they appear as a vision, 
 which must have been ideal, or, for this world, too bright to 
 last. 
 
 A few swift years, and the icy hand of death robbed the 
 brave seaman of his consort, and left him alone — heart- 
 stricken and desolate. It was sad, to witness the despond- 
 ency that fell upon his indomitable and elastic spirit — his 
 vain efforts to shake it off for the sake of his children — his 
 resort for even temporary relief to some of the scientific 
 pursuits which had so long engaged his energies. He went 
 out to join the Ordnance Survey. He returned to his deso- 
 late home, and sickened and died. His powerful, manly 
 frame yielded to the oppression of his too sensitive mindi. 
 I have said he was a man of strong affections, and his pros- 
 tration and death under this one fatal blight proved the 
 truth of my judgment. A weaker soul might have bent to 
 the calamity, but his firm nature was not of the willow, but 
 the oak, and the storm overthrew it. Altogether, in his 
 sphere, in his daring enterprises, and in all his relations of 
 
390 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 public and private, philosophical and social life, few names 
 are to be recorded with more honour than that of Sir James 
 Clark Ross. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 I HAVE said my say in this endeavour at a faithful por- 
 trait of a friend to whom I was most cordially attached, 
 and shall simply add two or three extracts from letters, to 
 afford more expression to, or illustrate some of, the features 
 I have drawn. 
 
 Of Sir James's feelings after his vain effort to alleviate his 
 sorrows by assisting in the Ordnance Survey, the following 
 is a very simple and touching description : — 
 
 " Since I returned from my magnetic tour in October, I 
 have lived the life of a recluse [throughout the winter 
 months], which is now more congenial to my feelings than 
 the laborious trifling and heartless intercourse with the 
 
 world But I must make an effort to fulfil 
 
 these duties." And he speaks of the " happiness of his mar- 
 ried life, alas, how rudely interrupted /" I have heard and 
 read of broken hearts, but I never witnessed an example 
 tending so nearly to realize the image as the speedy conse- 
 quent death of my lamented friend. 
 
 In 1845, Sir James communicated to me the contents of 
 a letter he had received from Captain Crozier, dated 1 3th of 
 July, Whale Islands, where the fatal expedition embarked 
 its stores, and sent home the transport. The passage had 
 been stormy and tedious, which, unfortunately, aggravated 
 the lateness in sailing, and would (Sir J. thought) prevent 
 much being done in the first season. And he proceeds : — 
 " An early breaking-up of the ice seems in favour of the 
 
SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS. 391 
 
 navigators. The whales coming over to the eastward is a 
 bad sign, as it leads to the inference that there is little or no 
 west water for them. Although we may hope that circum- 
 stances will become more favourable as the season advances, 
 yet I think it would be well to prepare the public mind for 
 a less successful result (arising from an unfavourable season), 
 and, should it eventually prove all we could wish, it will be 
 so much the more thought of, and, if otherwise, the want of 
 success will not be altogether unexpected. With two such 
 commanders, we know that everything will be done that 
 man can do. The event is in wiser hands than ours." It 
 seems strange to look back twenty years upon the first dark 
 shadow foreseen upon this ill-omened enterprise by the man 
 most competent in every respect to form a judgment upon 
 its prospects. How sad that the prophetic fear should 
 have been so fatally realized. 
 
 I might select a good deal of matter relating to Commo- 
 dore Wilkes's discoveries of a continent stretching far south, 
 and worthy to receive the American flag, could he have 
 landed, and erected the stripes and stars ; but a few words 
 may suffice : — " Have you," writes my friend, " the fifth 
 volume of "Wilkes's Voyage 1 I should like to see if he 
 makes any further allusion to the land we sailed over, in his 
 Antarctic cruise." And in another letter, a few months later, 
 " Thanks for sending me Enderby's letter ; it has revived 
 all the indignation I felt on reading that paragraph of 
 Wilkes's book. He cannot pretend ignorance of Balleny's 
 discoveries, for he has said that the land I sailed over 
 was put on his chart as the discovery of Balleny, which he 
 heard of at Sydney. The said mountains of his have dis- 
 appeared from his published chart without any notice of the 
 circumstance of our having passed over them ! " I will not 
 dilate on other subterfuges pointed out ; sufficient for the 
 exposure of a false and contemptible boast is the notice I 
 have copied from the best authority. 
 
 Before I close there is one interesting point belonging to 
 
392 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 geographical history on which I would offer a few words. 
 Sir J. Ross was the spokesman of a deputation that waited 
 upon Sir Robert M'Clure to do due homage to him for his 
 achievement of the North-west passage. Now it seems 
 evident that the original honour belongs to Sir John 
 Franklin. Ross, I believe, conceded this, after the conclusive 
 evidence brought home by the Fox ; confirming the account 
 given in the " Encyclopaedia Britannica " (from the pen, I 
 believe, of Sir John Richardson), and the able a priori 
 demonstration of M. de la Roquette, president of the Geo- 
 graphical Society of Paris, published in the archives of that 
 learned body. Fiat justilia. 
 
( 393 ) 
 
 FOUR EPOCHS IN THE LIFE OF SCOTT. 
 
 " T QUITE grieve for that poor little fellow with the 
 JL withered limb," said the aged poet Home, to the 
 child's guardian aunt at Bath ; " what a painful sight to 
 his anxious parents, to witness a loved one so suddenly 
 doomed to a life of inertness and mortification." For him 
 (the poet may have thought) no boyhood shouts to join in 
 sports ; for him no manly challenge to compete in invigorat- 
 ing exercises ; for him no female loveliness heaves a sigh ; 
 but sedentary, solitary, his soul sunk into sad sympathy 
 with his misfortune, he must float like a weed upon the sea 
 of life, an object of solicitude to his friends, and of pity 
 to all. 
 
 Vain were the thermal baths of the " Aquae Solis ;" vain 
 the nauseous draughts of carbonic acid, nitrogen, sulphates, 
 muriates, oxides, soda, lime, and iron, in the Grand Pump 
 Room. The crutch could not be thrown away, and the 
 four-year-old sufferer crippled on. Yet he did not seem 
 chagrined or melancholy. He looked, otherwise, healthy 
 and heart-whole, and was cheerful, if not merry and lively. 
 The boy, thrown out of communion with his contem- 
 poraries, was brought into fellowship with elder associates, 
 in new scenes peculiarly calculated to awaken the intellect 
 of observant and inquisitive childhood ; for the writings on 
 the tablets of infancy are of a wonderful nature, and much 
 deeper than is often suspected by " children of a larger 
 growth." As on certain chemical invisible manuscripts the 
 
394 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ink is nevertheless indelible, and warmth, a breath, or a 
 sympathetic solution brings it out with vivid distinctness, 
 so are these early impressions on the mind revived by un- 
 traceable connections, by processes obscure in their origin, 
 and inscrutable in their operation. I have myself regained 
 a thought by going to the spot where I remembered it to 
 have occurred, and found it there. 
 
 The lame child, deformed, helpless, commiserated, passed 
 a year at Bath. The seeds of the future were sown, where 
 mementoes of ancient Britons, Bomans, and Saxons whis- 
 pered strange matters of the ages of the past. Yet the 
 great German historian, Niebuhr, who saw him some years 
 later, described him, with pity, as a melancholy sight to his 
 parents, " dull in appearance and intellect." 
 
 II. 
 
 Look at that stalwart horseman ; how firmly he sits his 
 ardent steed. In his uniform of a modern yeoman, he looks 
 the feudal warrior of ancient times. In the garb of Old 
 Gaul, he would have been a potent chief or fearless cateran ; 
 or rather, in the days (and nights) of Border forays, he 
 would have been as daring an outlaw leader as ever harried 
 a foeman's hold. See him in the charge, see him in the 
 chase, see him at the banquet, his prowess and powers are 
 alike conspicuous. He looks, moves, and feeds like an 
 Homeric hero. Wnat a spacious temple of the mind, what 
 flashing fires in that deep grey eye, what strength and 
 energy in every motion ! Why, my friend, that is " the 
 lame laddie," the poor limping object of Bath, of whom the 
 most favourable prognostics were that he was doomed to be 
 a withered forlorn creature all the days of his life, capable 
 only of what could be done in gentle chamber-work, secluded 
 from the bold and independent struggles of the active world. 
 It is true he has been educated for a profession which re- 
 quires little of lith and limb, and no hardihood except what 
 may consist with that ample brow and keen glance for its 
 
FOUR EPOCHS IN THE LIFE OF SCOTT. 395 
 
 success. The judicious surrender of his more juvenile years to 
 nature, instead of the physicians, and a healthful freedom in 
 bracing country air, have so far overcome his defect as to 
 lessen its inconveniency, and borne him to maturity with 
 the strong-built mould and vigorous activity which have 
 excited your admiration. The rough but wholesome train- 
 ing of his boyhood at the High School of Edinburgh has 
 not been lost upon him. And farther still, his rural life, 
 while recruiting his corporeal stamina, is said to have nur- 
 tured his mental faculties. In short, he is suspected of 
 poetry ; and it is hinted, in old classical phrase, that " the 
 frame of a Hercules is animated by the spirit of an Apollo." 
 I fancy, however, that this is idle surmise, in consequence 
 of his omnivorous reading, and his failing to distinguish 
 himself professionally ; for if a " noticeable " man is not one 
 thing which is expected, people are always apt to set him 
 up for something else, which he may be, or may not. But 
 he is fortunately stout enough now to " battle the watch," 
 as the saying is ; and there can be little doubt of his halting 
 on respectably to some official preferment, where superior 
 talent is not required to insure a very comfortable position 
 and quiet enjoyment of society. He will be able to fish, 
 shoot, hunt, feast, to his heart's content, and there's an end. 
 This, the second-sight prophecy of our second epoch, is 
 not to be more truly fulfilled than the mistaken predictions 
 of the first. The map of the future defies prospective geo- 
 graphy. The steerage through life by a conjectural chart 
 must be a voyage ail abroad in the calculation of longitudes 
 and latitudes, and only to be corrected by celestial observa- 
 tions, as the course is for ever changed by winds and tides, 
 and under-currents and accidents. Rarely is the purposed 
 port reached, and if it be, how different is the trim of the 
 vessel from that on which we reckoned, and by how many 
 unforeseen tacks, how many drifts towards dangerous shoals, 
 how many disasters on wrecking rocks, how many tossings 
 on the stormy waves of unknown seas, have we been borne 
 
396 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 to the accomplishment of our destination ! Have we not 
 discovered that there is but one fixed light safely to steer 
 by through this anxious moil — that Light which never 
 faileth, and which shines most brightly on the far shore 
 beyond the dark haven of our mortal course 1 
 
 ill. 
 
 Who is the individual to whom I have just paid a morn- 
 ing visit, at a London Hotel 'I He only arrived last night, 
 and has not yet descended from his sleeping-room. Yet the 
 table is covered with the cards of eminent persons— peers, 
 statesmen, legislators, great lawyers, distinguished physicians, 
 wealthy commoners, authors, artists — all doing homage to 
 this remarkable man. And there lie also many of the 
 prettiest letters, notes, and billets, evidently the flutterings 
 of leading fashion, no doubt to solicit the smile of the mighty 
 " lion" of the day, upon their most sumptuous parties or 
 ambitious fetes. Is not he spoilt by this whelming flood of 
 prosperity and adulation 1 No. He is shrewd, and has 
 been sharply schooled in the mysteries of mankind, for years 
 before that tide in the affairs of man, which, as the greatest 
 of all bards tells us, " taken at the flood, leads on to for- 
 tune." His experience saves him from any outward sign 
 of overweening pride or display of vanity. He would be 
 more than human were his ambition not gratified in his 
 inmost breast. The toils and perils of ten years' precarious 
 wrestling with his fate have been buried in a period 
 of boundless success and triumph. The acclamations of 
 applauding millions fill his ear, and the laurels of victory 
 load his noble brow. I await his entrance. Always con- 
 spicuous for ease and propriety in dress, he is to-day parti- 
 cularly equipped, as if for some great ceremonious occasion. 
 And it is a memorable epoch in his life. The bard whose 
 writings had acquired a wonderful extent of popularity, and 
 will last as long as the English language — the possessor of a 
 secret gold-field, whose diggings yield nuggets of untold 
 
POUR EPOCHS IN THE LIFE OF SCOTT. 397 
 
 value, and promise a yield of yet richer produce and accu- 
 mulated fame — he was prepared for an audience of his 
 sovereign ; and at that interview the courtly prince (than 
 whom no monarch ever bestowed a favour with more 
 enhancing grace), unasked and spontaneously conferring a 
 title and giving his hand to kiss, said, " I shall always 
 reflect with pleasure on yours, Sir Walter, being the first 
 creation of my reign." 
 
 IV. 
 
 The dream has been finished, and an awakening is come. 
 It is not the sad foreboding of the first weakly spectacle, 
 the surprise and admiration of the massive second, nor the 
 royal splendour of the honoured third epoch, which now 
 arrests my sorrowful gaze. Reclined upon a common 
 mattress, wrapt in cloaks and furs, pale, and with eyes in 
 which the fire is quenched by fell disease, the emaciated 
 wreck of the strong renowned man is borne in a rocking 
 boat from shipboard to his native shore. There is a faint 
 expression upon his wasted countenance, as if the lines of 
 one of the German poets (Matheson) he used to love were 
 graven there : — ■ 
 
 " I long to see once more, before I die, 
 The fields in which I wander'd when a child, 
 Where all the happy dreams of opening life 
 Around me hover'd." 
 
 And the " vital spark of heavenly flame" glimmered till 
 this was done. He was carried to the spot where all his 
 earthly ambition had centred — the summit of his towering 
 hopes, the cradle of his fondest aspirations, the limit gained, 
 the starting-point of a visionary onward race. To reign a 
 chief, to found a lofty family, from the red hand to the 
 jewelled coronet, were the beguiling phantoms within the 
 scope of his dazzled view, the aim of his vast and indefatig- 
 able genius. But the cloud had again accumulated, and 
 
398 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 passed more sternly and darkly than before over his sun- 
 shine. The years of Egyptian abundance had been followed 
 by years of famine ; and there was no forewarning Joseph 
 to provide against the calamity. Alas ! the actual gold- 
 field, with its mine of wealth, had not sufficed ; but an inex- 
 haustible Pactolus, imagined and anticipated beyond, had 
 swallowed up the real, and, like a resistless flood, swept all 
 away in one dismal catastrophe. Vaulting ambition had 
 " overleapt itself and fallen on the other side" — ruinous as 
 that baser passion, Avarice. 
 
 " Next him in dance came Avarice, 
 Root of all evil, ground of vice, 
 That never could be content." 
 
 But it was not here the thirst of gain, or appetite for mere 
 filthy lucre. To become the root of a great and noble tree, 
 seemed no inordinate desire. We have witnessed the 
 Peerage won by less distinguished, though eminent, litera- 
 ture ; but had it been achieved in this instance, how melan- 
 choly and humiliating would the sight have been ! Plunged 
 into poverty ; children and grand- children preceding or 
 following him to the grave ; the beloved daughter, and last 
 idolized offspring then, and the latest of all (save one fragile 
 blossom) now ; the mourning for sons departed ; what a 
 picture of desolateness, what a lesson to human-kind ! 
 
 Poor Sir Walter ! hear his own melancholy and hopeless 
 words : " Death has closed the long dark avenue upon loves 
 and friendships ; and I look at them as through the grated 
 door of a burial-place filled with monuments of those who 
 were once dear to me, with no insincere wish that it may 
 open for me at no distant period, provided such be the will 
 of God. I shall never see the three-score years and ten, 
 and shall be summed up at a discount. No help for it, and 
 no matter either." Standing before the dreary sepulchre, 
 amidst the ruins of Dryburgh Abbey, the visitor may gather 
 
FOUR EPOCHS IN THE LIFE OF SCOTT. 399 
 
 a solemn lesson of " the vanity of human wishes," as he 
 reads the simple epitaph : Sir Walter Scott, Bart. 
 
 P.S. — The above is not of a piece with my other sketches. 
 I lived too near, and saw too much of this great author, to 
 be able to see him in his huge and exalted human stature, 
 as he will go down to the latest ages. How should I dare, 
 if I could, say that I might detect a speck on such a splen- 
 dour, or a foible on so magnificent a mass of intellectual 
 powers. It would be but to say that, mighty as he was, 
 and wonderful his genius, he was but Man. To analyse his 
 long, and arduous, and immortal, and disastrous course will 
 be a task of infinite difficulty ; and the materials are fast 
 passing away. But, however performed, it must end in 
 demonstrating that Sir Walter Scott was one of the most 
 glorious sons that ever sprang from the " land of the moun- 
 tain and the flood." 
 
 J- 
 
( 400 ) 
 
 RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 
 
 MY next portrait is one which will appear in strange 
 contrast.* Not greater in the difference between 
 the living lustre of the true gem and the flashy sparkle of 
 the tinsel paste. To present at once two personages so 
 opposite may not, however, be unprofitable. 
 
 Sheridan, a young Irishman of ardent temperament, was 
 plunged into the most reckless society of London, at an 
 evil and dissolute period. The taint ran riot in the upper 
 classes, and open debauchery was gloried in as the mark or 
 privilege of superior bearing. But vice cannot be, and 
 never is, gentlemanly. It is either stealthy or coarse ; 
 and, at the time alluded to, profligate coarseness was its 
 predominating feature. Yet, in candour and justice, we 
 must make some allowance for the difference of manners. 
 I have heard conversations carried on, and songs sung, 
 without offence or notice, by estimable men, in learned and 
 honourable professions, which, if adventured now (so 
 material is the change for the better), would procure for the 
 indecorous delinquent, if not instant expulsion from the 
 insulted company, at any rate the assurance that he would 
 never be afforded another opportunity to repeat the trans- 
 gression against modesty and good manners. It was 
 unfortunate for Richard Brinsley Sheridan, with his lively 
 genius and under his peculiar circumstances, to be thrown 
 into this vortex — to whirl with it round and round, with 
 the dangerous abyss in its very centre, gaping to swallow 
 
 * Mountstuart Elpliinstone : originally published in the same No. 
 
RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 401 
 
 up the intoxicated victims. Controlling Fashion revelled 
 far too wildly abroad, and morality, decency, and sense, 
 though largely prevalent in other quarters, were shamefully 
 eclipsed by obtrusive licentiousness. It was, however, long 
 after the furore of this condition that I became acquainted 
 with Sheridan, suffering, as he did suffer to the end of his 
 life, the malign consequences of early intemperance. He 
 was a wonderfully gifted being. Buoyant in the midst of 
 dire distress, playing with the stings and arrows of out- 
 rageous fortune as if they were toys or amusements, no 
 sea-fowl ever floated on the stormy waves, or threw the 
 battering of the tempest more easily from its wings, than 
 did he, apparently, the disappointments of hopes and the 
 wrecks of realities. Ah ! if we could see beneath the 
 surface ! 
 
 " Strange though it seem, yet with extremest grief 
 Is linked mirth ; it doth not bring relief; 
 That playfulness of sorrow ne'er beguiles ; 
 It smiles in bitterness — but still it smiles." 
 
 Often, I firmly believe, was this the case with Richard 
 Brinsley Sheridan ; for his feelings were strong and his 
 mortifications many. He was consequently a subject to be 
 highly elated or sadly desponding ; and in the former con- 
 dition, I believe it was truly told of him that, in a moment 
 of conscious superiority of genius, he exclaimed, " I expect 
 wings to shoot out from my elbows." Grattan apolo- 
 getically ascribed his faults to the excess of generous 
 virtues ; and though it is dangerous to offer such an excuse 
 for errors, it must be owned that in some cases, what are 
 praised by man as laudable qualities do, by the slightest 
 abuse, lapse into the erroneous and sinful. I have seen his 
 large beautiful eyes speak sadly, even while his brilliant 
 tongue was rehearsing the gayest sentiments and the finest 
 wit ; and Porson has assured us that " all wit is true 
 reasoning, though he had lived long before he discovered it." 
 2 D 
 
402 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Often I admired the upper portion of a countenance pre- 
 eminently commanding and intellectual, whilst the lower 
 portion was animal and sensual. But the mission of 
 these sketchy" outlines is to deal with slight characteristic 
 features, not to attempt elaborate likenesses ; and in minor 
 points there were incidental peculiarities as well as 
 whimsical fancies in Sheridan, worthy of notice. For 
 example, this admirable orator and writer could not spell 
 correctly. In his letters, perpetual blunders occurred, and 
 no pains were taken to rectify them. Unlike an official 
 friend of mine, who, in spite of being in the same predica- 
 ment, ranked high in the second class of Government 
 administrators, and was distinguished for taste, ability, and 
 application to business, he did not disguise his orthography 
 so as to be illegible and the spelling a guess, but set forth 
 his defect at large in his own bold hand. Had competitive 
 examinations existed in those days, his great talent would 
 have been rejected, and his great genius sent back to school. 
 But " live and learn" is a passable proverb. Sheridan once 
 told me in conversation that, as manager of Di'ury Lane 
 Theatre, he made it a rule to read (I presume glance over) 
 all the manuscripts sent in, and he never yet found one 
 drama so wretchedly bad that he could not pick something 
 good out of it. 
 
 It was in his conversation that he made his effects so 
 irresistible. There was a frankness about it, what the 
 French call an abandon, which won its way to the hearers' 
 hearts and confidence. And it was not an assumed, but a 
 natural openness. There were no faults excused, no irregu- 
 larities denied, no errors defended. The confessions were 
 of the true Horatian type. 
 
 " Lusisti satis, edisti satis, atque bibisti, 
 Tempus abire tibi." 
 
 And he had enjoyed life, if enjoyment it can be called, in 
 uhis manner ; free of the upper guild, so notorious for the 
 
RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN". 403 
 
 profusion of accomplishments and indulgence in vices, and 
 ever fevered by an excess of popularity in literature and 
 politics. But gambling, and duelling, and licentiousness, 
 and drunkenness, were orders of the day ! The highest 
 aristocracy, the greatest lawyers, the most renowned 
 patriots and ministers of state, got drunk together, and in 
 disorderly speech betrayed state secrets and delivered most 
 obnoxious -opinions. Sheridan had not escaped the con- 
 tagion, but he suffered the most grievous penalty, and he 
 died in poverty and neglect. The catastrophe was like the 
 extinction of a meteor, visible for the moment it brightens 
 the horizon, and is gone almost as soon as seen. So was it 
 with this man of dazzling powers — oh how unprofitably 
 wasted ! — of whom at his rising the cynical and depreciating 
 Walpole speaks (1780) as "Sheridan the comic author, son 
 of the Irish actor, and manager of Drury Lane, late member 
 for Stafford, and much attached to Fox, who spoke for the 
 first time, but did not make the figure expected." He had 
 sown the whirlwind, and he reaped the storm. 
 
 This is not the place to palliate his frailties : they have not 
 been very indulgently canvassed even by the laughers of 
 the world. All circles in which he moved (political, 
 dramatic, social) lived as if all men and women were 
 merely players ; and of such, surely the end must be 
 desolate, for 
 
 " Every year 
 Some flowers decay, some thorns appear," 
 
 and the worn-out wreck is borne into blank oblivion. But 
 the topic is painful to dwell upon, and I will leave the 
 moral to the conscientiousness of my readers. The trite old 
 epitaph of the country churchyard will suggest nearly all I 
 could earnestly and persuasively enforce : — 
 
 " What faults you see in him, be sure to shun ; 
 Look well at home — enough there's to be done." 
 
 2 d 2 
 
404 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Of Sheridan and his splendid and various talents, exem- 
 plified in an extraordinary sphere of public life and social 
 conduct, a volume, full of wonder and instruction, might be 
 written. I approach even the little I have to offer with 
 trepidation; for my humble pictorial object is 'truth, and 
 when I mingle my colours, I frequently shrink (full of 
 doubt) from difficulties which start up in the task I have 
 undertaken. But at any rate I can speak feelingly of the 
 great compass and diversity of Sheridan's acconrplishraents 
 — mos hominum ut 'nolint eundem pluribus rebus excellere — 
 so great that, as pithily said by the classic, human vanity is 
 too jealous to admit variety of excellence in single indi- 
 viduals — as in a Sheridan — when they shoot (as I have 
 compared him), like glorious meteors between earth and 
 heaven. 
 
 What a portrait to pronounce of intellect is that by Sir 
 Joshua ! The head so fine, the expression so brilliant, 
 and the lower portion of the countenance, in the prime of 
 life, without the sensuous encroachment of luxurious indul- 
 gence upon later years. And how light-hearted the look. 
 It spoke the man as I actually saw him at the Piazza Coffee 
 Hmise, after the roof had fallen in and crushed his fortunes 
 at the tremendous burning of Drury Lane Theatre — he 
 swallowed a goblet of wine, and declared he had the best 
 right " to take a glass at his own fireside ! " 
 
 To me Moore's Life of Sheridan is hardly more accept- 
 able than Lord Russell's Life of Moore. Both expose the 
 errors and weaknesses of their subject without the shading 
 which in truth attended them, and without the counter- 
 poise of the good qiialities and good deeds which would go far 
 to redeem them, were they thrice as flagrant. There is always 
 a balance difficult to appropriate, but v\ hich ought never to 
 be kept out of sight. Even Lord Campbell in his summings 
 
RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. 405 
 
 up in his Lives of Chancellors, produces an effect less inju- 
 rious ; for he allows Erskine many favourable endowments 
 before he puts on the black cap and passes sentence ; " the 
 fatal web of pecuniary embarrassment had not yet wound 
 round his soul, leading him to discreditable action and 
 degrading habits." Mutato nomine : how sadly may this be 
 applied to the man of far superior genius and intellect 1 
 The change from the beginning to the end was yet greater 
 — who can prognosticate the end even of an Alexander, 
 " turned to clay," or foresee, — 
 
 " Of that same tree which gave the box 
 Now rattling in the hand of Fox, 
 Perhaps his coffin shall be made ! 
 
 Reynolds shall, like his colours fly : 
 And Brown, when mingled with the dust, 
 Manure the grounds he once laid out." 
 
 His funeral was a public ceremony ; and the Bishop of 
 London was one of his pall bearers. As he facetiously (it 
 is said, when moved to the window from his death-bed, 
 called a passing hearse " the coach after all,") so his went on 
 the inevitable way with empty formal honours ; but his 
 race — rich in physical and mental endowments — has 
 inherited the right to proud distinction, in the eminent 
 ranks of nobility and literature. 
 
 y£&t*^&*&c^ 
 
( 406 ) 
 
 ROBERT SOUTHEY. 
 
 OF South ey I knew personally less than of any of his brother 
 poets of " The Lake School." He was not often, nor 
 long in town, and latterly, when he did visit London, was 
 much engaged with intimate friends, and courted by society. 
 But he was too worthy of his fame to allow himself to be 
 made a show of ; and very few fashionable parties succeeded 
 in obtaining his company. What I saw of him was in 
 private circles, and chiefly at the Rev. Dr. Hughes's in 
 Amen Corner, where he was very intimate, and at home 
 amid congenial intercourse. In conversation he was gentle- 
 manly and unassuming ; often with something of an air of 
 abstraction or business, but always communicating from his 
 own vast stores of valuable intelligence, some matter to 
 interest and enrich the minds of his gratified hearers. He, 
 however, joined little in general conversation, or when he 
 met any strangers. Only when two or three congenial 
 companions formed the small circle, was he fluent and 
 lavish of his powers. 
 
 In his lifetime Southey bore the brunt of much bitter 
 criticism, and after death his memory has been overladen 
 with reviews, memoirs, and biographies. My humble task 
 is simply to give a few traits, which may help the reader 
 towards forming a just estimate of his character. 
 
 How he was born at Bristol, and educated at West- 
 minster, with two years at Oxford, I leave, in all detail, to 
 be dealt with by the biographical regulars. He does not 
 belong to me till long after he has finished his travels in 
 
ROBERT SOUTHEY. 407 
 
 Spain and Portugal, held some official secretaryship in Ire- 
 land, and made himself notorious by the publication of 
 " Wat Tyler," and other startling Jacobin effusions. His 
 fierce democracy having rejected the Church as a profession, 
 he within a few years adopted the hazardous line of Letters, 
 abjured his youthful politics, and became one' of the most 
 distinguished champions of Tory principles, and an un- 
 wearied supporter of Church and State. And so much had 
 he proved his metal, that in 1813 he was made Poet 
 Laureate, and wrote a Lay on the Marriage of the Princess 
 Charlotte, the then " Hope of England." Alas ! the day, 
 when political animosities raged more angrily than now, and 
 it was tauntingly written, ' ' The laurel which the king gives, 
 we are credibly informed, has nothing at all in common 
 with that which is bestowed by the Muses ; and the Prince 
 Regent's warrant is absolutely of no authority in the Court 
 of Apollo. If this be the case, it follows that a Poet 
 Laureate has no sort of precedency among poets, whatever 
 may be his place among pages and clerks of the kitchen. 
 When he takes state, therefore, from his office, he really is 
 guilty of as ludicrous a blunder as the worthy American 
 Consul in one of the Hans Towns, who painted the Roman 
 fasces on the panel of his buggy, and insisted on calling his 
 foot-boy and clerk his lictors. He should rest satisfied with 
 the salary and sherry and safe obscurity of his predecessors." 
 I can vouch for the Laureate laughing heartily at this 
 satirical attack. He was not of the excessively irritable 
 nature to be disturbed by small matters : it was only when 
 thoroughly roused by larger provocation, that he entered the 
 field with all his energy, and fought the battle out with un- 
 flinching determination. The most memorable proof of this 
 is supplied by his fierce conflict with Lord Byron, in which 
 the combatants spared no offensive contumely or injurious 
 aspersion which their angry feelings could engender and 
 their mastery of words express. Their antipathy to each 
 other seemed to be innate and irrepressible. Lord Byron 
 
408 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 challenged the fight in his famous "English Bards and 
 Scotch Eeviewers," where the " Ballad-monger Southey," 
 rhyming to "so quaint and mouthey," was pursued with 
 hitter satire, and his " Joan of Arc," " Thalaba," " Madoc," 
 and other productions, held up to contemptuous ridicule. 
 He must have been less than a poet who could endure this, 
 and the grosser attacks which followed ; and Southey was not 
 the person to submit to it. In the " Yision of Judgment " a 
 furious retort appeared • and the appellation of the Satanic 
 School was fastened upon Byron, Shelley, and their associates 
 and imitators with stinging effect. 
 
 From this it will be seen that Southey could entertain 
 very strong resentments, and indeed, I am inclined to think, 
 that though mild and placable enough where there was no 
 great amount of ojjposition or offence, he was not very likely 
 to forget annoyance, or fail to give the culprit a rub 
 with the rough side of his pen, whenever an opportunity 
 occurred. Francis Jeffrey was one of his aversions, and 
 there was no love lost between them. Altogether, though 
 not what has been called a " good hater," Southey had 
 enough of gall in him to adopt the Scotch thistle for his 
 armorial bearings, and either its appropriate legend, or 
 Noli me tangere for his motto. 
 
 I must now, however, resume my more pacific remarks, 
 and, looking at Southey and his career as a whole, offer my 
 judgment, that he must be esteemed by posterity the most 
 eminent, especial, and complete Representative Man of the 
 professional literature of his day, or of the nineteenth 
 century. For between forty and fifty years he devoted 
 himself entirely to literature as a profession. There is no 
 one to compare with him in the magnitude and wide scope 
 of his undertakings, and the extent and diversity of his 
 productions. Scott and Bulwer Lytton alone stand on a 
 level with him in the variety of his subjects, and his manner, 
 in verse and prose, of treating them. There is hardly a 
 species of composition in which these three have not dis- 
 
ROBERT SOUTHEY. 409 
 
 tinguished themselves, from the imposing epic, to the lyric 
 ballad, and from philosophy, history, and biography, to 
 novel, drama, and essay ; some, more or less in one branch, 
 than in another ; but all displaying genius, -verging closely 
 up m the universal. 
 
 Systematically did Southey pursue his incessant labours, 
 and with a success which ranked him among the most im- 
 portant writers in contemporary influence, and an author 
 hardly second to the highest as a standard English classic. 
 Still forced to the wheel for subsistence (for he had sur- 
 rendered, the moment he could live without it, a generous 
 annual gift of £150 from his friend Mr. W. W. Wynn, and 
 did not get his pension of £300 till 1835), still toiling, as I 
 may say, for bread, at serial writing and reviewing, which 
 leaves no name, his ambition prompted him to soar above 
 mere publishers' work, and remuneration from periodicals, 
 and he dashed into the upper regions of imagination, and 
 there maintained a long and arduous struggle for posthumous 
 honour. And here let me remark, that these great efforts 
 were made under very discouraging circumstances. They 
 were all for fame — not for the pocket. Only think of the 
 hours and days of methodical application, mental exertion, 
 and the patient elaboration of skill and polish ; and to have 
 the expenditure of so much zeal and energy rewarded with 
 (what shall I repeat 1) about thirty pounds for ' ' Macloc," 
 with the refusal of the whole trade to undertake the "Curse 
 of Kehama," and " Thalaba " so unrelishable that the poet 
 was obliged to confess, "If I cannot get five hundred sub- 
 scribers, ' Kehama' can have no Curse in English, and if I 
 produce 'Thalaba' at my own risk, I must starve !" The 
 truth is, that these lofty attempts either did not suit the 
 times, or were too verbose and vapid in production, to gain 
 public attention; yet they contain many fine passages, 
 which will be cited hereafter, when the faults which repelled 
 popular taste will be fairly scanned. Southey was a party 
 man, and wrote most ably in the cause he espoused. 
 
410 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Political writers trying their strength in other lines, and 
 still more when venturing through the Cyclopaedia of 
 Letters, seldom have justice done to them in their own 
 era. 
 
 During the many years I have indicated, Southey oc- 
 cupied a large space in the public eye, and the influence of 
 his pen was felt on almost every great question that agitated 
 the people, and involved the interests of the country. Ably 
 did he proclaim, when occasion threatened anarchy, " The 
 loss of liberty is the penalty which has been paid for the 
 abuse of it." And time wrought its moderating process 
 upon Lis mind. For, though the axiom that men grow 
 hard-hearted as they grow older, may be true, it is only 
 true of the vulgarly worldly, and sordid. In better natures, 
 the soul is attempered to a grateful sense by years, and time 
 strengthens the kindly, and abates the angry feelings. Age 
 does not chill, but concentrates the warmth. It refuses to 
 nourish revengeful passions, and in the contemplation of its 
 own declining state, is prone to extend the hand of brother- 
 hood to mankind, to forget and forgive, to seek and accept 
 the help it needs, and, in return, offer its best endeavours to 
 promote all the happiness within the sphere of its lessening 
 powers. Such is the true philosophy of Age — saying 
 nothing of higher religious guidance — and it is a blessed 
 thing to live to the end in peace and good-will with the 
 world ; the storms all over, and the haven of rest in sight, 
 in harmony with all around, and a bright ray of evening 
 sunshine illuminating the voyage. Had reason remained at 
 this crisis with Southey, his spirit, gradually softening more 
 and more into mildness, would, I am persuaded, have dis- 
 played a spectacle of this beautiful description ; but it was 
 not to be : a deeper shadow obscui'ed the light of his latter 
 days. 
 
 Of his own powers, his estimate was as clear and just as 
 in any other instance within my observation. He had a 
 reliant, but not exaggerated conviction of his mental capa- 
 
ROBERT SOUTHEY. 411 
 
 bility, and he gave to indefatigable labour tbe credit of all 
 that he accomplished. " My means lie in an inkstand," 
 was his truism, even when expressing his ambition to leave 
 tbe daily needful provision out for a while, and assert his 
 " consciousness that he laboured for posterity." He was of 
 opinion that his prose was solid — occasionally it was a little 
 prolix — and that, if playful at all, he was mostly so in his 
 effusions in verse. Perhaps this distinction might arise in 
 some measure from an inclination to mystify the world with 
 anonymous productions, and even try conclusions with his 
 friends and associates under assumed and foreign colours. 
 " Espriella's Letters on Spain" afforded a curious example 
 of this kind. The first large edition was exhausted in ten 
 days. The critical press resounded with praise of the 
 illustrious unknown Spanish author. The secret was 
 divulged, and the second edition fell flat and dead on 
 the hands of the publishers ! I believe, notwithstanding 
 the merits being still the same, fifty copies were not sold 
 after the home production was confessed. But his fondness 
 for a piece of tricking in this way might be better shown by 
 his imposing his " March to Moscow" on the editor of the 
 Sun newspaper as the composition of a Mr. Sayer, an 
 official in the Tower. It made a noise at the time, and 
 years elapsed before the real writer was known. Again 
 and again had 
 
 " The fields been green, and the sky been blue, 
 Since the pleasant excursion to Moscow," 
 
 followed by the utter desolation of the disastrous retreat, 
 when the terrible interest of the subject compelled thou- 
 sands, who would not have read six lines of "Madoc," to 
 listen to Mr. Sayer's homely rhymes as he described the 
 disasters of Napoleon, and told how — 
 
 " They made the place too hot for him, 
 For they set fire to Moscow ! 
 
412 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 " The Russians they stuck close to him, 
 All on the road from Moscow. 
 They stuck to them with all their might ; 
 They were on the left, and on the right, 
 Behind and before, and by day and by night." 
 
 Another jeu d 'esprit was a clever and ludicrous burlesque 
 of Byron's misanthropy, a pretended lay about a " Miss 
 Ann Thrope," for writing which 
 
 " His paper was sable, and so was his wax, 
 And his pen was the quill of a crow. 
 
 Morbleu ! Parbleu ! " 
 
 But that his muse was not always sjjortive, and that he 
 could be bitter enough without levity, his lines on his 
 relative, John Southey, who disappointed him of an antici- 
 pated bequest, is rather strong proof. 
 
 Of his devoted industry in the service of literature, his 
 correspondence, and " The Doctor," a marvellous collection 
 of memoranda, full of curious matter, made during his half- 
 century of authorship, furnish ample proof.* It would have 
 required an age to work these miscellaneous materials into 
 
 * I think it is in " The Doctor," that Southey alludes to his being 
 a member of the Real Academia de la Historia of Spain, and says it 
 is " a body which has rendered most efficient service to the literature 
 of that country ; " and adds, " this gives me some privileges which I 
 should be very glad to profit by, if I could afford a journey to Spain, 
 for I should have better access to the archives and MSS. than any 
 foreigner has ever enjoyed." I quote this passage to account for the 
 American history of Spain being superior to any English work on 
 the subject. Mr. Prescott, as a foreign member of the Academia, no 
 doubt had full access to the archives of the kingdom, which I believe 
 no English writer has been entitled to ask, and be in a position to use. 
 Through the recommendation of the eminent Spanish author, M. A. L. 
 de Cordoba, the Earl of Munster and I were elected to the honour, of 
 which (as of Spanish literature generally) so little is known in this 
 country, and I mention it rather as news that we were as uncon- 
 scious as Southey that our privileges were the same as if we were 
 members of the roval household. 
 
ROBERT SOUTHEY. 413 
 
 reviews and articles for the periodical press ; unappropriated 
 as they are, they are exceedingly pleasant and instructive, 
 display the devouring extent of Mr. Souther's reading, as 
 well as an aptitude for humour, which did not exist, or was 
 not detected in the mass of his publications. But whether 
 his pen was the quill of a crow, of a swan, of a porcupine, 
 or of a goose, assuredly he wielded it daily and diligently, 
 and highly and truly did he appreciate the value of the in- 
 strument when he wrote to Lord Brougham, " The time is 
 come in which G-overnments can no more stand without 
 pens to support them than without bayonets." If it were 
 so thirty years ago, when this was written, what is it now, 
 when the power and influence of the press have so enor- 
 mously increased 1 ? 
 
 Yet the press must stop ; the toils of the author of " Wat 
 Tyler" and " The Curse of Kehama," the biographer of 
 Wesley and of Nelson, the severe critic and the laudatory 
 laureate, come to the certain finis. And as he approached 
 that period, he performed an act, which has been, to my 
 mind, somewhat misrepresented, and, upon the data laid 
 down, unfairly censured by the filial editor of his " Life and 
 Correspondence." It seems to me that a resentful spirit 
 against the lady who became his second wife led to imputa- 
 tions upon her conduct by no means deserved ; and was, in 
 short, an ebullition of anger, founded on partial views, and 
 seriously unjust. And when I recollect that the object of this 
 attack was Katherine Bowles, one of England's most tender 
 and graceful poets, I am the more inclined to give what I 
 have known in the matter publicity. 
 
 I refrain, however, from introducing more than one single 
 incident, which happened two days before the marriage. 
 Southey, as was his custom in the afternoon, lay down on a sofa 
 for his siesta, Miss B. sitting quietly by. From this he suddenly 
 started, and terrified his poor bride by wild ravings about 
 their wedding day, and incoherent descriptions of what he 
 had been dreaming. The amazed lady was so painfully 
 
414 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 alarmed, that she deemed it her duty to communicate the 
 circumstances to, and seek the advice of, Admiral Sir H. R. 
 Nagle, her neighbour, relative, and friend. There was con- 
 sequently considerable discussion • but matters had been 
 carried so far that the die was cast, and it was decided to 
 abide the result. On the following Monday, the Admiral 
 gave her away, and nothing in the slightest degree question- 
 able having intervened, the " happy pair," as the news- 
 papers have it, proceeded to the Isle of Wight (as an 
 illustrious prince has since done), to spend their honeymoon. 
 They returned to Keswick by way of London, where his 
 son says that the debility of his mind (I think, from my own 
 recollection, rather exaggerated), excited great commisera- 
 tion. At Keswick the confusion of his intellect increased, 
 and mental alienation finally dropped the curtain on a 
 twelvemonth's apparently unconscious dream. Certainly 
 not the cause of this melancholy catastrophe, his suffering 
 wife had for three years to endure the hostile censures of 
 his son and two unmarried daughters, and be calumniated 
 for making an " idiot " of the man she had for years almost 
 adored, and whose process towards that sad condition neither 
 began with nor was accelerated by her. And this unvarnished 
 tale was her sole defence. As such I give it to the world. 
 A pension of £200 relieved her from poverty, and she sur- 
 vived her husband ten or twelve years. 
 
 An immense and curious library might partly account for 
 the expenditure which left a widow without provision, but 
 Southey's income was never large : the laureateship, I think, 
 was valued at less than a hundred a year ; he might 
 generally receive four hundred for four reviews in the 
 " Quarterly," but his contributions to other periodicals 
 brought no considerable additions. Such works as the 
 " Peninsular War " demanded much labour, aud I know of 
 no other to approach a tithe of the thousand pounds re- 
 muneration for that, and his pension of £300 did not (as 
 I have observed) commence till 1835. So the brain was 
 worn out, and the poet died. 
 
ROBERT SOUTHEY. 415 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 A free press conscientiously conducted is one of the 
 greatest blessings a country can possess, — unscrupulously 
 conducted, one of the greatest curses. Every party and 
 opinion has an equal right to its organ ; and let the organ 
 be but truthful and honest, no permanent evil can result. 
 On the contrary, -when Greek meets Greek, and the battle 
 is fairly fought, the victory to the strongest is declared for 
 the public good, and the people see their way through a 
 clearer sky. Remembering this, Mr. Southey must ever be 
 acknowledged one of the ablest, and consequently one of the 
 most valuable combatants of his time ; whilst the extent 
 and merit of his non-combative works entitle him to very 
 high rank among the authors of its sterling literature, his- 
 torians, and poets. 
 
 I shall therefore return to him for a little farther notice, 
 though of a character against and about which so much has 
 been written and published it may be out of my power to 
 say anything altogether new. But I would, in the first place, 
 complement that passage in my sketch where I mention the 
 Vision of Judgment having fixed the title of the Satanic 
 School upon Byron and Shelley (see end of third joara- 
 graph). 
 
 Of the ingredients which provoked Southey to compound 
 the " Hell-broth" for this fraternity, and justify his applica- 
 tion of the scalding ignominy to them, the greatest offence 
 lay in the uncontradicted statement that, in the visitors' 
 book at Montantvert, Mont Blanc, and written in Greek 
 characters, there was inscribed " P. Bysshe Shelley, atheist;" 
 and as his travelling companion throughout the Swiss tour, 
 and his sworn " fidus A chates " (for he would not profane 
 the name of friend) in regard to all social relations and 
 
416 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 opinion was Byron, lie, Byron, must be condemned as an 
 accomplice in blasphemy ! 
 
 But it was not always in the denouncing tone and 
 venomous fury that this warfare was carried on. As in the 
 irony of Miss Ann Thrope, Byron is ridiculed for affec- 
 tation — 
 
 " And he call'd her his pretty Bulbul ! 
 But she knew not that in the modern scale, 
 A couple of bulls meant a nightingale, 
 So full in his face she turn'd her tail ; " 
 
 and the noble melancholick wooer took nothing by his 
 motion. But the press and private circles were inundated 
 with all sorts of productions in relation to this fierce con- 
 troversy. My hands were full of them, and it was not easy 
 to keep quite out of the strife. As ' in the Colenso erup- 
 tion, arguments, epigrams, satires, ballads, and other kinds 
 of verse, were the talk, scandal, and pest of the day. They 
 are all gone into the limbo to which even the cleverest things 
 produced on similar occasions are doomed so rapidly to sink, 
 and, — 
 
 " Like the baseless fabric of a vision, 
 Leave not a wrack behind." 
 
 Yet, I believe, Southey met Lord Byron not unfrequently, 
 nor unpleasantly, at Holland House. I can just recollect 
 one little piece in which the writer, instead of the " Satanic 
 School," maintains the ejrithet of the " Shelley cot School f 
 a few lines of which, as a specimen, I rescue from utter 
 oblivion. 
 
 " I Shelleycot name, 
 A school which has lately been blown into fame, 
 The plum-pudding Cockneys and Northern Reviews, 
 And lads who of letters think less than of stews, 
 
 Like the Shelleycot school, — the Shelleycot school, 
 
 Like, &c, &c. 
 
ROBERT SOUTHEY. 417 
 
 One may marry a wife, arid make love to his slave, 
 Then felon-like, fly off, and scud o'er the wave ; 
 His God may deny, and his king call a fool, 
 And still be the foremost in Shelleycot school, 
 And still, &c. 
 
 Canterbury, look up, and pray, York, cock your nose ; 
 You ne'er were assail'd by such terrible foes 
 As the Shelleycot school." 
 
 Cetera desunt. 
 
 Of course, the revenge on the other side did not languish 
 for "want of hate, and talent to give it painful point. Wat 
 Tyler and its "renegade" author were not spared; and bitter 
 were the references to the time when the judge, before 
 whom the republication of that fiery democratic poem was 
 attempted to be stopped by the writer, decided that he 
 could not forbid the piracy, as it was an immoral work and 
 could claim no protection !* It certainly afforded a vulner- 
 able heel for his adversaries to shoot their arrows at ; and, 
 though the leading members of the famous Bristol Pantiso- 
 cracy, Coleridge and wife, Lovell's widow, and Southey 
 himself and wife, were all sweetly home-colonized under one 
 roof on the Lakes, it seemed only to stimulate greater 
 animosity against all their antecedents — the three sisters, 
 their husbands, and all the band who had destined them- 
 selves for the true land of liberty across the Atlantic. 
 
 It was as pretty a quarrel as any Sir Lucius O'Trigger 
 could desire ; and woe to him who only happened to touch 
 
 * These trials are generally amusing, and afford entertainment as 
 well as fees for the jubilant gentry of the bar. In Mawman v. 
 Gracie, to restrain him from publishing Cru den's " Concordance," I 
 remember much fun and laughter. Sir A. Pigott defended the work 
 as being as good as new, since 300 corrections in punctuation were 
 made in it, not including colons and semicolons ; upon which Lord 
 
 C observed that if he had been employed he would soon have 
 
 come to a full stop. 
 
 2 E 
 
418 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the skirts of it. In my occupation I could not escape, for 
 there was no such thing as neutrality, and I was bespattered 
 from both sides. Southey owed me a grudge of ten years 
 for my opinion of his " Vision of [little] Judgment ;" and 
 I unluckily did not prize Charles Lamb's " Album Verses" 
 so highly as did his friends, and especially his old college 
 chum. Consequently I was shown up, and Southey even 
 wrote verses in the Times (of which paper it was reported 
 he had refused the editorship at £2,000 a year) to make me 
 uneasy. It was whimsical enough that from such a pen, 
 and on such an occasion, the poet should eulogize Elia for 
 that he was (as he truly was) of — 
 
 " Warmth of heart sincere, 
 And wit that never gave an ill-thought birth, 
 Nor ever in its sport infused a sting — " 
 
 and yet, even within the same twenty lines, display so 
 wretched a contrast as to conclude it was a matter of 
 " mirthful memory " — ■ 
 
 " To think when thou wert early in the field, 
 How doughtily small Jeffrey ran at thee 
 A-tilt, and broke a bulrush on thy shield. 
 And now a veteran in the lists of fame, 
 I ween, old friend ! thou art not worse bested, 
 When, with a maudlin eye and drunken aim, 
 Dulness has thrown a jerdan at thy head ! " 
 
 Well, men are of mixed clay. How many fine sentiments 
 do we find in Southey, both in poetry and prose. It may 
 not strike others as it did me, that there was something of 
 the true ring of manly feeling, perfection of friendship, 
 sense of gratitude, and honourable independence, when, on 
 receiving his pension, he resigned the generous aid so nobly 
 allowed by Mr. Wynn. Thus he writes : " You had been 
 so long my familiar friend, that I felt no more sense of 
 dependence in receiving my means, and at one time my sole 
 
ROBERT SOUTHEY. 419 
 
 subsistence, from you than if you had been my brother, — 
 it was being done to as I would have done ! " 
 
 And this brings me back to what I have stated of his 
 second marriage, and of the great injustice, I think, done to 
 the unfortunate lady he made his wife* — both towards her 
 in life as his widow, and to her memory after death, by the 
 course pursued by his family, and their publications of his 
 collected works and biography. I considered it a duty to 
 speak out before time had erased my testimony, and left an 
 unprovoked obloquy upon the fame of one whose gentle 
 nature and poetic enthusiasm created that long cherished 
 admiration for her poetic father which consummated her 
 self-sacrifice. He was among the first to appreciate and 
 cherish her genius, and a genial intercourse between them 
 had existed above twenty years. He had been a widower, 
 too, and that pity which is akin to love had been awakened 
 by the unfortunate condition of his wife for a long while 
 before death released her from her affliction. Under these 
 circumstances, what took place was human nature — not 
 attended by such tragic violence as Shakspere has drawn, 
 but with equal moral fatality — 
 
 " She loved him for the volumes he had writ, 
 And he loved her that she did honour them." 
 
 The literary world has ever been full of similar attachments, 
 and I am afraid many of them have ended in disappoint- 
 ment and unhappiness. But to return to Katherine 
 Bowles. For a considerable period, the letters I have seen 
 from her wooer were in tone and language like nothing so 
 much as the impatient courtship of a love-sick swain. He 
 
 * In her handwriting I find the following : — " Having lived during 
 several years in the closest intimacy with his daughter, and loved 
 him a? a father, since he showed me the interest and affection of 
 one." 
 
 2 e 2 
 
420 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 was sixty-fire, and she above fifty years old ; and a union of 
 affectionate esteem could have been no sufficient scandal to 
 excite hatred in his former family. Yet it was a grave step, 
 and before she consented to take it, she, more prudential 
 than he was urgent, appointed him a year's probation, at the 
 end of which time, if all held steadfast and the prospect 
 were clear, she agreed to become his wife. To beguile the 
 test, he went abroad, and returned (as his correspondence 
 showed was not to be doubted) the same ardent lover (re- 
 member he was a poet) as before. On the eve of accom- 
 plishment, however, the course certainly did not run quite 
 so smooth as altogether to avoid disturbance and threaten 
 wreck. Mr. S. went on a visit to her cottage in Hamp- 
 shire, to await the near approaching day of their marriage, 
 which was fixed for the ensuing Monday. And, here, the 
 preceding Saturday was marked by the extraordinary scene 
 I have faintly described. 
 
 fa WuAy 
 
 %/iufa* 
 
( 421 ) 
 
 JOHN TROTTEK. 
 
 JOHN TROTTER, was one of a class neither numerous 
 nor notedly conspicuous — a class -which does not reach 
 the lofty summits of national fame, but is seen, if observed 
 at all, on the ranges which run between them and the level 
 plain. Here, upon these ridges, abide, live, and work the 
 class of men to whom I allude. They are not high enough 
 to be among the most lofty objects, yet not so unmarked as 
 to be confounded with the common surface. "We cannot 
 call them public, and they are not private characters. It is 
 only their position that forbids the world from ranking 
 them among its pre-eminent leaders ; for in their sphere 
 they possess more influence and produce more beneficial and 
 enduring effects than the majority of those whose names 
 may be sounded from the trump of history. And one 
 among the foremost of these was John Trotter. 
 
 Originally endowed with a superior intellect, his whole 
 life was passed in planning improvements, most of them of 
 social usefulness, to promote the greatest happiness for the 
 greatest number, or advance the prosperity of his native 
 country ; and his mind teemed with unceasing projects. In 
 pursuit of new undertakings he was an impersonation of 
 thought, activity, and energy united; and, till the trials 
 were completed, in failure or success, nothing could bend 
 him from the resort to every conceivable experiment, in 
 order to test them. If my readers can imagine this busy 
 energy of mind, incessantly applied through many active 
 years, to small things as well as to great, they may form 
 
422 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 some slight idea of those multiform labours which could be 
 alike employed in the regulation of a pendulum or the 
 administration of a State department. 
 
 I had the good fortune to enjoy a close intimacy with 
 this gifted gentleman ; but I should be lost in any attempt 
 to enumerate the various opinions and schemes in which 
 his ardour bore me along with him, in the sanguine days of 
 earlier life. And now, after a long lapse of time, with its 
 lessons of experience and its leisure for reflection, I am the 
 more filled with wonder at his inventiveness, sagacity, and 
 foresight. I have lived to witness several of his singular, 
 sometimes ridiculed, notions universally received and brought 
 into operation, to the great advantage of the community. 
 His philanthropy was as judicious as it was inexhaustible. 
 Ever ready and willing to lend a powerful hand to move 
 the wagon, he was decidedly averse to supply all the exer- 
 tion himself, whilst others looked idly on. He had the 
 faculty of setting others to work, and inspiring them with 
 part of his enthusiasm. 
 
 As I trust that my slight sketches may occasionally 
 point a moral, I find it necessary sometimes to introduce 
 incidental circumstances, as it were back-grounds, so as 
 to exhibit somewhat of the nature of the period, together 
 with the portraiture of the Men. With this view I have 
 to say a few words about the antecedents of the subject of 
 my present sketch. 
 
 The Trotters were an old family of stalwart race, resident 
 on a small estate near the Scottish capital. Like so many 
 of their countrymen in a similar position, three younger 
 branches went forth to seek their fortunes in the south, 
 where their superior talents and business ability soon made 
 the way for them to distinguished and responsible stations. 
 Alexander, an invaluable Navy Office reformer, though his 
 proceedings brought a temporary political shade upon his 
 principal, Lord Melville, was the elder brother ; and John, 
 who rose to such authority in administering the Ordnance 
 
JOHN TROTTER. 423 
 
 and Commissariat service, and Coutts, the partner in the 
 famous bank, which bears the name of his godfather, were 
 the two younger scions. Like true Scotchmen they clung 
 to each other ; and I have often thought what an excellent 
 lesson might be given to the world by citing the example, 
 even within the circle of Men I have Known, of the power 
 of family harmony and natural affection in conducting to 
 wealth and honour ; whilst the reverse, exhibiting the 
 painful contrast of blood relations quarrelling and contend- 
 ing, has invariably led to ruin and disgrace. Even in regard 
 to mere secular affairs and worldly weal, the lines of the 
 pretty hymn for the young will sometimes occur as a pithy 
 precept for maturer age : — 
 
 " Behold how good a thing it is, 
 And how becoming well ; 
 For children, such as brethren are, 
 In unity to dwell ! " 
 
 In this unity the brothers Trotter dwelt, and the result 
 was similar to that in many cases, which every one who has 
 mixed in the active world must have witnessed ; for hence, 
 in some measure, may be traced the opulence and elevated 
 ranks to which many brotherhoods have risen within our 
 time — as, for proof, the Malcolms and Napiers, of kindred 
 origin to my subject, the Rothschilds, Lawrences, Cubitts, 
 Pollocks, and, to crown the whole, the Wellesleys. 
 
 The difference in manners also, of what I may call the 
 preceding generation, suggests a useful theme for comment ; 
 but I will simply relate the pleasant account given me by 
 my friend, of his advent to London, and mode of life with 
 his companion brother. They lodged snugly enough in a 
 second floor in the Strand, near to the spot where Sir 
 Coutts Trotter in after years presided over the great banking 
 establishment. In those days Scottish prevision, more than 
 Scottish thrift, was wont to be displayed in the conveyance 
 of such provender, to such youngsters in the metropolis, as 
 
424 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 they could hardly purchase in the common markets. Thus, 
 kippers (dried salmon), mutton hams, butter-firkins, and jars of 
 sweetmeat were not a- wanting to the juvenile housekeeping in 
 the Strand. But the fun to the young gentlemen was, when 
 one or other of their aristocratic friends or relatives dropped 
 in to inquire after their health, and probably invite them to 
 dinner ; at times, as they heard the approach [of such visitors 
 on the stairs], their hurry-skurry was prodigious in getting 
 the debris of their homely feasts [and northern provisional 
 larder] hidden out of sight [ — perhaps, under the bed]. With 
 all they accomplished in after-life, were they ever happier — 
 though they were men of happy dispositions 1 I question 
 if any of the junior clerks of our time, even under less 
 favourable circumstances, would be content with so humble 
 a domicile or so homely a style. 
 
 Charmed as I used to be with these stories of early years, 
 I must emerge from the two pair of stairs into another 
 region. Mr. John Trotter in a Government office was 
 speedily ascertained to be possessed of remarkable admin- 
 istrative capacity, and was accordingly advanced to duties 
 of high and responsible trust, insomuch that he became at 
 last almost the sole and recognised director of a branch of 
 the revenue, of vast extent and vital importance. The 
 public money which he had to expend, and the vigilant 
 superintendence of its application, were fortunately confided 
 to an individual equal to the task — the right man (if ever 
 there was one) in the right place. For method he was 
 unparalleled ; and his systematic organization, descending 
 to every minute particular, was marvellous. I will mention 
 an instance. After the lapse of more than twenty years, 
 certain chests which had been sent with Sir Ralph Aber- 
 crombie's expedition were returned from Egypt. The 
 Ordnance Office, which had, in the mean time, been 
 constituted into a great separate Government department, 
 knew nothing of them, or who might be their owners, or 
 what to do with them. In this dilemma they applied to 
 
JOHN TROTTER. 425 
 
 Mr. Trotter, and lie, consulting a book that looked like a 
 chaos of unknown signs to any one else, promptly advised 
 them that the property belonged to Government, and that 
 it consisted of so many thousand pairs of shoes and stockings, 
 originally costing so many L. s. d. 
 
 But this was only a specimen indicative of his methodical 
 exactness in business. His mind was ever conceiving 
 novelties ; ever inventing some improvement ; ever displaying 
 curious ingenuity in bringing to completeness what philo- 
 sophical comprehensiveness of even fanciful refinements 
 threw up to the day. It was the compass of the elephant — 
 from the picking up of a pin to the carrying a tower on its 
 back. The range was incredible ; but I vouch for it. There 
 were doors that would shut themselves without noise ; there 
 were fastenings which rivalled Bramah's locks ; there were 
 instruments to put in your pocket to measure the distance 
 you walked ; and others to place in your carriage for the 
 like mensuration — both, I believe, since patented, and 
 brought into common use. But in larger affairs he was no 
 less prolific, nor less striking in his ideas and experimental 
 devices. If it was not always in mortal to command success, 
 he, at all events, left nothing undone to deserve it. Thus 
 it was with an elaborate scheme for a national currency, 
 founded on real and other registerable property, which fell 
 to the ground, though supported by an able pamphlet. It 
 was at issue on every point with the doctrines of the gold 
 measure of value alone ; and I remember with some amuse- 
 ment now, how strenuously his brother, the banker, and 
 Mr. Huskisson, argued against it, when brought together in 
 a select and social council. Bullion, at last, put him down 
 so far as to relax his efforts for propagating his panacea. I 
 will not attempt, however, to enumerate the variety of 
 objects, great and small, to which he was ever and anon 
 turning his capacious and subtle attention. Motion and 
 energy were his life, and his sanguine temperament never 
 yielded to difficulty or sank beneath defeat. With him, if 
 
426 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 a very toy became a pursuit, it speedily acquired the shape 
 of material importance — the trifle solidified — and the results 
 were often so incommensurate with the original suggestion, 
 as to be absolutely astonishing. 
 
 Whilst in the direction of the National Stores, and the 
 contracts for many supplies, he had found it necessary to 
 purchase, build, and give a wide extent to premises adjoin- 
 ing his residence in Soho Square, and spreading into adja- 
 cent streets. When the Government department was 
 formed, these spacious premises fell back into his hands. 
 To pull them down or remodel them into dwelling-houses 
 was evidently a very losing concern, and to find any use 
 for them was enough to puzzle any ordinary speculator. 
 But John Trotter was as practical as he was far-sighted. 
 The idea of converting his disposable vacant space into a 
 Bazaar, upon an Anglo- oriental plan, occurred to him, and 
 he set his mind to the accomplishment of the design in the 
 best possible manner. Benevolence, if not more than emo- 
 lument, was at least equal to it in the impulse ; and every 
 arrangement that was made, while it harmonised with the 
 remarkable organ of order of which I have spoken, no less 
 forcibly demonstrated that the benefit of others was 
 earnestly contemplated, and the prospect of profitable 
 returns made subservient to that generous object. The 
 rules laid down were stringent and unalterable. The 
 business space for the exhibition and sale of many sorts of 
 goods was suitably laid out. Greater or lesser portions 
 were let at certain daily rents. A watchfulness was in- 
 stituted, so that no exorbitant charges, falsification of 
 articles, or impositions could be undetected or tolerated. 
 That the things sold should be genuine, and no traffic in 
 raising or lowering prices, according to a trade-estimate by 
 sight, of the buyer, be jiermitted, were fixed terms in the 
 agreements for place. Hours for opening and closing were 
 punctually enforced ; and the requisites of cleanliness, good 
 behaviour, kindliness among themselves, and civility towards 
 
JOHN TROTTER. 427 
 
 all the rest of the outer world who visited them, were 
 provided for in a way to prevent all mistakes. And above 
 all, the character and conditions of the candidates for 
 admission were scrupulously examined. Any flaw in the 
 former insured discountenance ; aught unfortunate in the 
 latter begat sympathy, a ready reception, and, where 
 needful, help to begin what was to many a new course of 
 life. I was privy to many of those transactions, and I 
 cannot describe the blessings conveyed to desolate homes, 
 belonging to persons who had moved in respectable stations, 
 by the charitable efforts of the founders of the Bazaar — for 
 Mr. Trotter had a partner in the toil and trouble, who was 
 worthy of the occasion. 
 
 Well, the Soho Bazaar sprang into light and work. It 
 was an entire novelty ; and novelty will always attract an 
 English public. But those who came out of mere curiosity 
 to see, remained to buy. The honest principles on which it 
 was firmly established, and the sterling regulations accord- 
 ing to which it was conducted, were immediately felt, and 
 the Soho Bazaar became at once a considerable trading 
 mart, resorted to and patronised by all ranks of society. 
 So it was when I knew it, and so I have reason to believe 
 it continues to be to the present day, the foremost, as it was 
 the first, of all the marts which have imitated its outward 
 appearances, without, perhaps, devoting so much rigid 
 attention to its essential interior details. The empty 
 buildings were thus re-occupied ; the toy became a focus 
 for industry and enterprise ; the Bazaar proved a productive 
 estate. 
 
 Am not I fully justified in stating that the late John 
 Trotter was an extraordinary character ] But he was 
 more, he was a humane, benevolent, and in every relation of 
 life an excellent man. 
 
428 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 In the previous description of the early Strand residence 
 of John and Coutts Trotter, a few trivial particulars were 
 discreetly omitted, and I bow to the editorial revision, 
 which I have every reason to thank for acceptable improve- 
 ments on all my contributions. But I have restored them 
 in brackets, for to me they were impressively characteristic 
 of the men and the manners of the times, when I heard 
 them in their elevated positions, tell of the days when their 
 jams and jellies and other Scottish provender, per Leith 
 
 Shipping Company's Packet , was hurriedly stowed 
 
 away and hidden anywhere out of sight of casual visitors. 
 Railways have made the intercourse far more convenient 
 and easy now-o'days. I question if the Scottish supplies 
 have proportionately increased ! 
 
 Of Mr. Trotter I have not much more to state, unless I 
 went into details respecting some of his ingenious, and I 
 may add, extraordinary anticipations of social inventions (?) 
 and improvements which we now see in full practical 
 utility. Truly does a letter from his son, and worthy 
 successor, Captain John Trotter, remind me of remarkable 
 traits with which I was familiar, and add " very many of 
 his wise acquirements and far-seeing plans are in active 
 operation, and with God's blessing, do good to many : " and 
 of a more distant date is a similar testimony borne to his 
 virtues by one who had the best right to know what they 
 were, for she shared in their application with a spirit like 
 his own. " How justly," wrote the lady, whose loss I yet 
 continue to regret — " how justly you say that ' we have lost 
 an extraordinary man, whose life was one of superior useful- 
 ness.' Indeed it was so ; his thoughts were for ever bent 
 on what would be useful to others, without a particle of 
 selfishness in anything he did. Many mourn for him 
 truly, and have good cause for doing so." 
 
JOHN TROTTER. 429 
 
 As my humble attempts, however, are simply essays to 
 revive and consecrate a few faithful lineaments of the Men I 
 have Known, and, though chosen for my work, not chosen 
 for mere eulogy, I shall drop my pen on our great device 
 for establishing the currency of the country on a boundless 
 yet solid foundation. At any rate, the pamphlet on 
 National Polity and Finance is deserving of bibliographic 
 notice as a curiosity after my friend's original manner. It 
 had as many blank as printed pages, and not only every 
 page, but line, was numbered so that the smallest objections 
 
 could be pointed out and refuted. I do not assert that 
 
 we silenced Mr. Huskisson and Sir Coutts Trotter, but 
 neither did they convince us ; and even within the last few 
 years, the author of a very elaborate and able work entitled 
 " Currency self-regulating,"* has adopted some of our 
 notions, and it is not too much to say that the currency 
 question is not yet definitively settled. 
 
 One other of Mr. Trotter's favourite pursuits was the 
 discovery, or rather the complete accomplishment, of a 
 Universal Language. Sought for centuries and earnestly 
 systematized to a certain extent by men of great intellectual 
 powers, I cannot exactly recall to memory the salient points 
 of Mr. Trotter's investigation and consequent formation of 
 means for ready intercommunication among nations and 
 peoples without reference to difference in language or trans- 
 lation. The key was connected with the notes in music, 
 and it was demonstrated that words quite unintelligible in 
 viva voce conversation, might be made as intelligible when 
 written as if they were the native tongue. Thus it is 
 stated that the inhabitants of China and Cochin China do 
 not understand the spoken language of each other, but can 
 correspond as readily with the pen, as if the language were 
 the same. Something to this effect was shown by writing, 
 say a sentence in Latin, of which a person out of the room 
 
 * Glasgow and London. 
 
430 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 knew nothing, but who being called in and furnished with 
 the key, at once read and explained the sense. I frequently 
 witnessed this done, and am inclined to believe that a 
 certain method may be devised and perfected, for conveying 
 intelligence throughout the civilised world without the 
 necessity for interpreters and other troublesome agencies — 
 which may or may not truly reproduce what you have 
 wished to state. 
 
 But with me the discussion is over, and I can only 
 faintly remember that it was a pleasing knotty subject to 
 discuss on a lovely spring day, strolling under the sweet 
 lime-tree avenue, with my friend, in the very anciently 
 recorded Dyrham Park, and then resting for awhile by the 
 gate under which General Monk triumphantly entered 
 London two hundred years ago, and now adorning a 
 different scene, where the only mob to shout were the bees 
 clustering in thousands upon the odorous lirne-blossoms. 
 
 <-S#^-t~ tS^frZv- 
 
( 431 ) 
 
 LORD CHANCELLOR TRURO. 
 
 THOMAS WILDE was the second son of a small attor- 
 ney, living in a small house in a small square in one 
 of the most unclean localities of the city of London,* and 
 yet very close to its magnificent cathedral, St. Paul's. At 
 an early age he was admitted into St. Paul's school, hut did 
 not remain long enough to get into the upper school ; and, 
 heing a very sharp, lively boy, was taken away to assist in 
 the business of his father's office. A slight impediment in 
 his speech operated against the successful prosecution of his 
 studies, or at least against the vivd voce demonstrations of 
 his acquirements, whatever they were ; but still he was too 
 young and too short a while at lessoning to have learnt 
 much, and he only left behind him (at " Paul's ") the cha- 
 racter of being an idle, saucy, bold, clever urchin, with no 
 signs of plodding or laborious application. Dean Colet, 
 therefore, the founder of this great institution, could claim 
 less merit on the score of his future career, than in opening 
 the path for the poetic glories of Milton (who went thence 
 to Cambridge), and only about as much as he contributed 
 towards the military renown of Marlborough (also removed 
 at twelve years of age) — two preceding Paulines who 
 enjoyed the privileges of rudimental instruction at this far- 
 famed seminaiy. This would seem to be no very auspicious 
 commencement even of legal life : no flattering position 
 whence to lighten lowly and unpleasing toils by the cheering 
 view of a bright hereafter. But what will not indomitable 
 perseverance and indefatigable industry accomplish 1 Tom 
 
 * Warwick Square, Newgate Market. 
 
432 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Wilde never tired. He never ceased from work. He 
 aspired, and he pressed upwards with his eyes fixed on the 
 summit of the hill, as an archer's upon the target at the 
 centre of which he aims. 
 
 Stimulated by the contemporaneous youthful example of 
 certain companions, he extended his grasp to intellectual 
 improvement and the mastery of various knowledge derived 
 from books and able men ; and thus when he had, conse- 
 quently, advanced into respectable and lucrative practice as 
 a principal, his reputation for skill and energy stood high, 
 his services (as an attorney) were widely sought, and his 
 progress was rapid as it was solid and productive. A 
 wealthy marriage crowned this gratifying condition. 
 
 His growing ambition, however, was not to be satisfied in 
 an inferior walk of the profession. He felt his strength, 
 and he threw off the attorney to be called to the bar. By 
 an extraordinary infliction (for so the contest might be truly 
 described) of self-control and management of the vocal 
 organs, he overcame the obstacle of the impediment to 
 which I have alluded ; and by an almost unparalleled de- 
 votedness to his functions soon rose to eminence as a pleader 
 and lawyer. Days and nights were spent in the most 
 arduous undertakings ; and no advocate ever addressed a 
 court who took more conscientious pains to become com- 
 pletely acquainted with the bearings of every case intrusted 
 to his charge, and the merits on which his clients relied. 
 Substantial ability, unwearied diligence, and accumulating 
 experience in all the intricacies and difficulties of law, as 
 well as in the mysteries of mankind (exposed to the lawyer 
 as to the physician and Romish priest), led him on surely, 
 step by step, to that mountain summit of which his youth 
 might not dare to dream — that elevation approached by 
 few, achieved by one in thousands. One day I walked into 
 that august assembly, the British House of Peers, and, 
 seated on the woolsack in ertnined robes, at the head of 
 them all, beheld the first subject of the realm, their 
 
LORD CHANCELLOR TRURO. 433 
 
 President, Thomas Wilde, the Lord High Chancellor Truro ! 
 The impediment in his speech, to which I have alluded, was 
 rarely perceptible when he was at the bar and addressing 
 judges or convincing juries. But in early manhood it 
 annoyed him much, and it was only by an extraordinary 
 self-command, and resolution not to speak till he got the 
 organs into a proper condition for pronunciation, that he 
 first qualified, and finally conquered, the defect, which if not 
 conquered must have forced him to be a Chamber Counsel, 
 and so have baffled his ambition. An instance will show. 
 
 Bloomfield, the author of the " Farmer's Boy," was 
 promoted (as Burns in the Excise) to a clerkship in a public 
 law-office, which did its work in Middle Temple Lane. I 
 was desirous to see the poet, and Wilde made an errand to 
 this office in order to afford me an opportunity. Bloomfield 
 was behind the desk, and came forward to know what was 
 wanted. But Wilde was speechless ; some emotion on 
 seeing the minstrel in so unfit a place might have affected 
 him ; but there they stood for full five minutes gazing at 
 each other, while I wondered what could be the result ; 
 whether it was Bloomfield or not, and whether my friend 
 meant to ask his question, or walk out, as Lord Burleigh 
 does in the drama, with a shake of his learned head. But 
 at last the dumb -show ended, and some explanations took 
 place. The poet had good cause thereafter to remember the 
 day when his apparition in a dark, dingy hole produced a fit 
 of silence and a victory, instead of a fit of stammering and 
 mortification. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 It is a remarkable thing to notice, but a truth that some, 
 probably much, of Lord Truro's grand success in life arose 
 out of the very imperfection in speech, with an anecdote of 
 2 F 
 
434 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 which my preceding remarks conclude. But it was so. 
 Often driven to use words he could pronounce more readily 
 than others, he acquired that copia verborum so essential at 
 the bar, and, in short, made himself that vocabulary of 
 inexhaustible variety and force, which furnished the abund- 
 ance of his oratory, and "lifted him from the bar to the 
 bench, and from the bench to the woolsack. 
 
 I am afraid I shall expose myself beyond licence to the 
 charge of egotism I have expressed my anxious desire to 
 avoid, as far as I could, in this more than octogenarian work, 
 by what I am about to state ; but my pride in it prevails 
 over my prudence, and I have only to -beg for a good- 
 natured and not a critical construction — peccavi. Among 
 my early friends, thank Heaven, there is one remaining 
 who has not fallen within my mournful category — Sir F. 
 Pollock, the Lord Chief Baron. From him, a few weeks 
 ago, I had a kindly letter, and, inter alia, as follows : — " I 
 have received the Number of the L. H. [' Leisure Hour'] 
 with a notice of Lord Truro ; and I am (as we used to say in 
 Latin declamations at college) ' non nisi indignabundtos,' 
 that you should write a notice of Tom Wilde, the Pauline 
 attorney, and not mention the common friendship of us all 
 three ; and there are anecdotes of Wilde worthy of being 
 recorded in print — one especially, when he refused to hold 
 a brief to defend a man who said he was guilty, thinking 
 his counsel ought to know all ! He (Wilde) said, ' the single 
 question is, whether the witness is perjured or not. I will 
 not defile my mind and powers of reasoning by trying to 
 persuade a jury that a witness is perjured, when I know 
 from the defendant that he is telling the truth ! ' " 
 
 Fain would I take this advice, and dilate with strangely 
 mingled feelings of pleasure and regret upon the period here 
 alluded to ; but it is not my theme. I will mention that a 
 youthful literary, quasi debating club of twelve members, 
 meeting monthly, or oftener, at Chambers in the Temple, 
 emitted from its bosom a lord chancellor, lord chief baron, 
 
LORD CHANCELLOR TRURO. 435 
 
 two judicial knights,* an eminent surgeon, a commissioner of 
 excise, a City magistrate, two distinguished engineers — 
 brothers Bramah — leaving the oi polloi in a poor minority. 
 I may also mention that as the result of a wager with my 
 comrade Wilde, I devised a means of secret correspondence, 
 which introduced us to the Government of that date, and 
 afforded the opportunity to make his abilities known, after 
 I had returned to Scotland in bad health. From such small 
 causes do matters of much consequence not unfrequently 
 spring. 
 
 The residence of Wilde's father was in Warwick Square, 
 a small house, now taking down to make room for improve- 
 ments, not before they were wanted, in Newgate Market and 
 its vicinity, and I cannot remember more of the humble 
 interior than merely calling there. But, reader, we had a 
 country house, not a villa, in those days. It was situated at 
 the foot of Highgate Hill, in a neat row, Holloway, and I 
 rather think not windowed enough to be liable to the tax, 
 and thither on a Sunday afternoon have " all three " walked 
 to dine with the old people, at two o'clock • and the juicy 
 boiled beef and greens on a frosty whiter afternoon formed a 
 repast to be greatly enjoyed by a lord chancellor and a lord 
 chief baron hi embryo ! I suppose we were as happy then as 
 any of us were ever after. Coiild we have dreamed that in 
 future years the Prince Consort, the husband of the Queen 
 of England, when over-rated, that is, over-taxed — for in the 
 other sense it could hardly be — on his Windsor farm, should 
 tell the collector, " We must consult our Cousin Wilde about 
 this?" 
 
 It may be only worth telling to show how long youthful 
 impressions will remain unforgotten. Thirty years after the 
 time I have been " illustrating," (as the phrase is) when 
 Serjeant Wilde was at the head of his profession, an 
 
 * Sir David Pollock and Sir John Wylde, who spelled the name 
 with a y. 
 
 2 f 2 
 
436 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 opponent in a cause observed upon some poetry quoted 
 " that the writer of such stuff must be a fool ;" to which my 
 old associate demurred and argued, on the contrary : " I had 
 a companion early in life who was not only no fool, but a 
 very clever fellow, who was so inveterate a rhymster that he 
 even addressed his letters by the post in verse, and he 
 repeated — 
 
 " This is for David Pollock, squire, 
 In Elm Court, Temple, pray inquire, 
 On the first floor, and look no higher 
 
 To catch him ! 
 He'll pay you twopence for this letter, 
 He never did so for a better ; 
 But if he should remain your debtor — 
 
 Then watch him ! " 
 
 To remember so boyish a jest was curious, and one might 
 apply to it what the learned Serjeant most legally remarked 
 when some one dogmatically pronounced the apophthegm, 
 " The hairs of our heads are all numbered ; " " It was a great 
 waste of accuracy !" 
 
 But to speak of graver matters. T. Wilde having attained 
 great reputation as an attorney, consulted his schoolfellow 
 and friend F. Pollock, then becoming more and more dis- 
 tinguished at the bar, about the expediency of quitting his 
 lucrative practice in the City, and risking the chance of a 
 barrister-at-law. The advice was given : " "With your abilities 
 you have nothing to fear." And the result proved its sound- 
 ness. For three years before leaving the Rolls, indeed, his 
 labours as a solicitor had so injured his constitution that he 
 was in constant pain from severe headache, and even intended 
 to retire into Yorkshire, the county from which his family 
 came, and practise as a provincial counsel. For the three 
 years after sticking his name off, his health was reinstated, 
 and he came to the resolution I have noted, was called to the 
 bar with brightening prospects, and took chambers in the 
 
LORD CHANCELLOR TRURO. 437 
 
 Temple at head-quarters to carry on the war. In the first 
 term, so well known and highly appreciated were his talents 
 that he was in full business ; but his health gave way again 
 under the new species of exertion, and in the second term he 
 was unable to go into Court at all. In the third he was better, 
 and went to Court, but was again taken ill and prevented 
 from attending on the fourth. This was unfortunate, but his 
 fees in the year amounted to £1,500, and his firm character 
 for perseverance soon overcame every obstacle, and the course 
 was wide and clear. 
 
 It may perhaps afford something of greater consistency to 
 my narrative, to notice that he had not been four years at 
 the bar when he was retained as junior counsel in Queen 
 Caroline's case, and his labours became more intense than 
 ever. Being called upon as her executor to attend her 
 funeral, he followed her corpse to Brunswick, and, her 
 obsequies being completed, made a tour to Home. On his 
 journey he was attacked by neuralgia, against the frightful 
 agony of which he bore up with his usual fortitude, and 
 insisted upon going through the galleries, his servant carry- 
 ing a camp stool to enable him to take rest between picture 
 and picture, or statue and statue — his enemy never letting 
 go his hold day or night. On arriving in England he grew 
 worse, and the pain he endured was, in the opinion of Dr. 
 Baillie, greater than that of any victim to tic cloloureux 
 whose case was known to the profession by any trustworthy 
 record of it. The torture was sometimes so maddening that 
 he has been known to gnaw the sheets of his bed in holes 
 during the night. Months elapsed. His physicians tried 
 every known remedy, which means pretty much every 
 known poison, without effect. At length the circuits being 
 about to commence, they told him they must make a change 
 of some kind, and that they had determined he must be 
 lifted out of bed, placed in his travelling carriage, and go 
 the western circuit, as usual. He was, of course, very much 
 astonished, but he yielded, and went into Court at several 
 
438 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 towns, if not at all ; being supported in an erect posture 
 when he had to examine witnesses or address juries. He 
 returned somewhat better than he left home, and persisted 
 in attending at his chambers every day. Mr. Hill (of 
 whom see further on) often saw him at that period ; assist- 
 ing him in reading up his briefs, consulting authorities, 
 and discussing certain points of law. At first, as he relates, 
 he found this very painful. Mr. Wilde would go on for 
 a sentence or two, and then in the middle of a third would 
 stop to groan, as only a man of great fortitude, overcome by 
 agony, can groan. He would then take up the sentence 
 without repeating a word, and conclude it as if nothing had 
 hapjjened. So matters went on for weeks, until one morn- 
 ing, on entering the chambers, Mr. H. was struck with the 
 change in the appearance of his friend, whose face had 
 resumed the expression it bore prior to this illness. Upon 
 asking what it meant he learnt that about 12 o'clock on the 
 night before, the patient suddenly felt that his pain was 
 gone, — conquered, as he believed, by a long course of opium, 
 that left its marks upon his face, which, in a strong sunlight, 
 shone as if it were oiled. For a long time afterwards the 
 same medicine in his constitution seemed to protect him 
 from catarrh, and the disease did not return for many years, 
 and never with any approach to its former severity. 
 
 In health or in sickness, Mr. Wilde was remarkable for 
 the power with which he attracted everybody around him. 
 No one I could refer to ever exceeded him in this respect, 
 and there were many friends who would have made any 
 exertion, or submitted to any sacrifice, to serve him. And 
 how he came to merit such attachment may be explained by 
 the fact that one of his chief characteristics was his bene- 
 volence. " He delighted," writes one of his friends, who 
 knew him intimately during many years, " in acts of gene- 
 rosity, and his success in life enabled him to gratify his de- 
 sires ; but he held indiscriminate donations a great evil to 
 society, and therefore never gave money without a ]3reli- 
 
LORD CHANCELLOR TRURO. 439 
 
 miliary inquiry, which often cost him what he could much 
 less conveniently spare than money, viz., time, and much of 
 it." In other respects, his strength of will was enormous, 
 and, if it had not been regulated by high moral principles 
 and sound judgment, might have been a curse instead of a 
 blessing. It showed itself in various ways. His industry, 
 as I have observed, was almost unrivalled, and my statement 
 is corroborated by Mr. Hill, the Recorder of Birmingham 
 (and widely known and j ustly respected for his own earnest 
 labours in the cause of reformatory institutions and educa- 
 tion), who says, " I never knew any man, with the excep- 
 tion of Lord Brougham, who could enter into competition 
 with him.* I have sometimes worked with him' all day, 
 and all the succeeding night, and, having worked again all 
 the succeeding day, I required rest. Not so Serjeant Wilde. 
 In truth, although ten years younger than he, I never could 
 work with him without breaking down." 
 
 In several other of my sketches, I have had occasion to 
 describe the predilection of my " Men," in the most differ- 
 ent walks in life, for the Drama — a proof, I think, that the 
 love and appetite for it is very general, and a pity that its 
 ministers do not cultivate it in a more elevated sphere. 
 Another characteristic of Lord Truro he had, in common with 
 almost all great advocates, was that of being so good an 
 actor that, if he had gone upon the stage, he most probably 
 must have risen to the topmost eminence. Once at the 
 dinner-table at his country house he was called out to speak 
 to a candidate for the appointment of gardener, and, on his 
 return, gave the dialogue between them, wherein he had 
 cross-examined the applicant as to why he had left his 
 former place, etc., and played the part of Mr. Gardener 
 with such inimitable vis cumica as to excite the company 
 to bursts of laughter. On another occasion, in the course of 
 
 * Mr. Hill adds another exception in M. Demetz, the founder of 
 the celebrated reformatory at Mettray, near Rouen. 
 
440 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 a trial, when he had to get rid of adverse conclusions which 
 a witness against him had drawn from what took place in 
 an interview with his (Wilde's) client, he told the story 
 of Gondomar's pantomime with the butcher, and the very 
 different meanings which each of the actors put upon the 
 gesticulations of the other, with such marvellous force and 
 vividness as utterly to surprise the hearers and carry his 
 point. 
 
 So seemed he to do in all things. He reached the highest 
 office in his profession, and all know how hard it is to climb ; 
 from the birthplace of five windows in Warwick-square, he 
 became connected with the Royal Family in his second 
 marriage, and he founded a British peerage. Truly stands 
 he forth as one of the most Eminent and Exemplary Men 
 with whom it was ever my happy fortune to associate. 
 lieliquendam est. 
 
 A good bust of the Chancellor, the full face and massive 
 head well expressed, is the only ornament of the kind to be 
 seen in the grand library of the House of Lords. It was 
 presented, together with his rich law library, by his lady, 
 and they form a striking compartment on the walls of that 
 magnificent suite of rooms. 
 
( 441 ) 
 
 SHARON TURNER. 
 
 SHARON TURNER furnishes as little for merely 
 personal biography or anecdote as can possibly be 
 imagined of so eminent an author. Si monwmentwm quceris, 
 consult his voluminous and admirable standard works. If 
 you wish to know something of the man, I can only tell 
 you that he was simple, as all truly wise men are, un- 
 assuming, genial, laborious, and conscientious. In him the 
 moral elements were finely mingled ; so that all who had 
 the gratification of his acquaintance, highly prized him as an 
 estimable fellow- wayfarer on the beaten path of life ; and, 
 by those who knew him intimately, he was not only held in 
 still higher estimation, but was loved and venerated with a 
 degree of warmth in proportion to the measure of that 
 intimacy. For Sharon Turner was purely a good man in 
 every relation with society, and, in his public capacity, a 
 model of faithful and honest literature. 
 
 " Yet he was, could he help it ? a special attorney." 
 
 A special attorney ! Thereby ought to hang a tale. It 
 is certain that prejudice exists against members of the 
 profession. The rationale of this fear and dislike of attor- 
 neys is not far to seek. The relations of most men with 
 attorneys are, in a vast majority of cases, mixed up with 
 some disagreeable feelings. If you employ one, it is usually 
 at best but to enforce a hard justice ; it may be, and often 
 is, to gratify an evil passion — anger, punishment, revenge ; 
 
442 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 and when, instead of the active you are the passive in 
 affairs in which that instrument is concerned, you are sure 
 to be in a condition to inspire you with tenfold suspicion 
 and resentment. That the blessing of the peacemaker does 
 not adhere to him, is the most certain of your convictions ; 
 as, if he really possessed the character of a composer of 
 strifes, he could hardly live, or must live very poor, instead 
 of abiding in comfort or opulence. Such ideas may often 
 be inapplicable — may be harsh, may be unjust ; but we 
 cannot be surprised at their being so widely entertained ; 
 for the moral sores on which the majority of this class feed, 
 and the suffering and unhappiness they superintend, and the 
 worst among them aggravate, are upon the surface, before 
 the eyes and within the cognisance of the multitude ; 
 whereas the mighty countervailing j)ower of the laws, 
 wisely and humanely administered, rests on deep foundations 
 unrecognised by every-day observers, who are indeed alike 
 insensible to the benefits they enjoy and the source from 
 which they spring. It is to be regretted that, in this 
 profession, the bad and the worst are familiar to all the 
 world ; whilst the good and the best are so hidden as to be 
 rarely visible or heard of. It is a misfortune ; since, with 
 temptations and opportunities to accumulate gain, numerous 
 and seductive, and a perpetual intercourse with the blacker 
 shades of human nature, the truly benevolent and righteous 
 attorney is one of the noblest specimens of mankind within 
 the entire circle, private and public, of our social system. 
 And one of these was Sharon Turner, a special " special 
 attorney ! " 
 
 It is pleasant to set before the present generation of men 
 — of literary men, of lawyers, of politicians, of all, whether 
 engaged in ordinary or exalted intellectual pursuits, — the 
 portrait of a man belonging to the respectable station in 
 middle life whose whole career was adorned by the pos- 
 session and exercise of the purer virtues, who was patriotic 
 as an historian, gentle in his profession, friendly to his 
 
SHARON TURNER. 443 
 
 neighbours, exemplary to his family, charitable to his 
 adversaries, and liberal towards all ; for there are none 
 amongst us so fortunate as not to provoke enmities, with 
 some show of reason — or without. 
 
 In these brief papers I have generally endeavoured, by 
 some personal trait or other, to illustrate, or, if I may use 
 the expression, individualise the character impressed upon 
 my memory. With regard to Mr. Turner I have no 
 striking anecdote ; but his generous disposition may be 
 indicated by the fact, that when Robert Montgomery's first 
 poem, " The Omnipresence of the Deity," was published, 
 his approbation of the poor, young, and aspiring poet was 
 manifested by a most welcome and encouraging present of 
 ten guineas for his copy, and an introduction to his domestic 
 circle, in which he tasted pleasures and reaped instruction 
 unknown to his earlier years, and highly conducive to his 
 future prosperity and comfort. And I may take this 
 occasion to inquire how it comes to pass that Montgomery's 
 productions have been made a by- word for all that is con- 
 temptible in poetry, so that writers not gifted with a tithe 
 of his talents fling out their sarcasms upon him, as if he 
 had never written anything but trash and nonsense. To 
 the dispassionate and competent judge it is not so. Not 
 arguing for his shortcomings or faults, there is enough left not 
 only to warrant his extensive popularity, but to justify the 
 critic in acknowledging many beauties in style and composi- 
 tion, as well as the suasive inculcation of moral and religious 
 sentiments. "Why his name Should be abused, as of the 
 worst in the Dunciacl, I have not been able to discover. 
 It is something like the parrot note attached to that of 
 Martin Tupper, who may have been guilty of some absur- 
 dities, but who has at the same time given to the world a 
 number of things far above the reach of the majority of 
 those who seek to disparage him, and exalt themselves by 
 silly allusions to his failures, without the honest counter- 
 balancing tribute to his better efforts. Depend upon it, it 
 
444 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 is a sign of weakness in the detractor. Not such was the 
 custom of Sharon Turner. He could observe and encourage 
 merit and promise. 
 
 Once, when I went to see him in a quiet retreat from the 
 busy world, at Epsom, he gave me a volume of which few 
 of my readers have probably heard. 
 
 Horace recommends nine years' patience with a poem 
 before you venture to obtrude it on the public — a very 
 sound advice, though so many in our age seem to fancy nine 
 days more than enough ; but in this instance our author 
 commenced his "Richard the Third, a Poem," in 1792, 
 when he was twenty-four years old, and he finished it 
 about 1838, when he had attained the patriarch-margin of 
 threescore and ten. The volume is now before me ; and 
 besides rescuing its hero from some of the historical dis- 
 tortions with which Tudor hate caused his memory to be 
 loaded, and which even Shakspeare, if he had willed it, dared 
 not set right, contains a great deal of poetic merit, both in 
 thought and expression — quite enough to have insured the 
 writer's being hanged in the glorious reign of good Queen 
 Bess, though quite safe under the sceptre of the better 
 Queen Victoria. I shall only quote one passage, which 
 may be applicable to both periods — 
 
 "The general multitude seek peace and rest, 
 And hail the hand by which they thus are blest ! 
 They care not for the title to the crown, 
 If to their homes the reign sends food and comfort down ; 
 The deadliest strife and conflict it forgives, 
 If from the conquering sway in honour' d ease it lives." 
 
 Whether the ease be honoured or not, this well-turned 
 political, if not especially poetical, lesson teaches us a 
 striking truth, and one remarkably exemplified at the 
 present hour. Why does any great nation submit to an 
 absolute autocracy? Because it allows to the people a 
 certain degree of protection and ease. Because experience 
 has demonstrated the problem, that one year of mob-rule 
 
SHARON TURNER. 445 
 
 ■would reconcile the oppressed to a century of despotism, as 
 the least of the two evils. This consideration is the strongest 
 hold of tyranny ; and Sharon Turner, whose eveiy work 
 breathed true patriotism — whose calm advocacy of great 
 public measures for the general good infused every syllable 
 of his historic writings — clearly saw that anarchy (which 
 often failed of the aim of its first movers, and fell into 
 military thraldom) was too desperate a price to pay even 
 for the glittering chance of a conclusion in absolute freedom 
 and a constitutional government. 
 
 It is not within the scope of my slight sketches to enter 
 upon the severer labours of our eminent Anglo-Saxon, 
 either for description or criticism. His research was 
 unwearied, his judgment impartial, and his views liberal. 
 The early portions of the history of England were never 
 more deeply studied ; and the results of these studies evinced 
 a spirit honourably national in patriotism, and sincerely 
 Protestant in religion. There was no arrogance in the one, 
 nor bigotry in the other. His differences in opinion with 
 the Roman Catholic Lingard were conducted in a most 
 becoming manner, and, in justice to his adversary, it may 
 be allowed that in his disputation-style he (Lingard) showed 
 himself one of the most candid and tolerant examples of the 
 creed he upheld. New lights are being thrown upon our 
 Teutonic ancestry, their domestic habits, customs, and 
 social system ; but the foundations have been so broadly and 
 accurately laid by Sharon Turner, who broke up the ground, 
 and most materially cultivated it, that all subsequent inves- 
 tigation only serves to furnish a few additions to his com- 
 prehensive disclosures, and confirm the acuteness of his 
 conjectural inductions. 
 
 The "Sacred History of the "World" is another de- 
 servedly standard book of reference ; and the repeated new 
 editions of his work confirm their title to our estimation of 
 them, as possessors of those rare qualities which justify 
 contemporary admiration, and send them down as in- 
 
446 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 valuable teachers of truth and fountains of knowledge to 
 future times. "With patient unwearied study he gathered 
 the plenteous data on which he pored through many a long 
 day in his Saxon research, till, I dare say, he could almost 
 have groped his way blindfold to King Athelstan's fridstool, 
 or chair of peace, at Beverley. But the Holy Scriptures 
 were the main inspiration of his studies. A firm believer 
 in Divine revelation, he reached a far higher pitch of blessed 
 faith. His pamphlet of " Sacred Meditations, by a Layman," 
 proved that herein, at least, he had devoted himself to an 
 inquiry which brought its own exceeding great reward. 
 During several years it was his practice to allot two hours 
 every morning, from five o'clock, to the close investigation 
 of the Bible ; and hence he derived consolation in every 
 trial of life. 
 
 I have spoken of Sharon Turner as belonging to a pro- 
 fession which often sorely tries the virtue of humanity, and 
 of his rising superior to these perils. I have told of his 
 genial conduct towards struggling literature, his extensive 
 charity, and his philanthropic affections for all his fellow- 
 creatures ; and 1 would colour the canvas yet more richly, 
 were it fit for me to portray aught of his Christian head- 
 ship of an amiable family circle. Such patterns are not 
 frequent in this stirring world of ours. But I cannot 
 refrain from signalising one worthy fruit from this admirable 
 tree. From the charitable institution for the relief of the 
 suffering poor, and the education of forlorn children in St. 
 George's-in-the-Fields, to the greater establishment, with 
 somewhat varying objects, at Bed Hill, the Bev. Sydney 
 Turner has devoted himself to the blessed work with a zeal 
 that has reflected honour upon his father's memory, as well 
 as on his own well-directed benevolence. Many a wretched 
 parent has cause to bless his painful exertions ; and so long 
 as humane feeling exists in the bosom of mankind, a deep 
 debt of gratitude will be acknowledged to him, who proved 
 on a large scale that the gaol was the worst of schools for 
 
SHARON TURNER. 447 
 
 delinquent youth ; that the whip and the gallows too often 
 hardened early offences into incorrigible crime ; and that 
 mild persuasion, religious instruction, lessons of industry and 
 encouragement of reward — the stimulus of these and other 
 means such as a careful view of human nature suggested, 
 were the true and efficient remedies to reclaim criminal 
 outcasts. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 Throughout his long life, which (like all lives) had its 
 trials, Sharon Turner displayed strong moral powers, active be- 
 nevolence, and the strictest integrity. Among instances of his 
 charitable disposition I may repeat that he was a fast 
 friend to Robert Montgomery, whom it has become a 
 cuckoo fashion not to speak of according to his poetical 
 merits and demerits, but to fling a gibe upon, as unjust as 
 it is senseless. Upon Montgomery's Poems Mr. Turner was 
 not hypercritical : he entirely approved of his religious aim, 
 and admired much of his versification. Of the value of his 
 criticism I have no opinion to volunteer in this place, but 
 if it require to be a Poet to judge of Poetry, I fear 
 that our excellent historian has not shown himself fat 
 enough to be entitled to drive the fat oxen. His " Richard 
 the Third " * to which I have alluded is founded on the 
 impression that the crook-back character had been unjustly 
 drawn, and so persistent was his sense of justice, the idea 
 haunted his mind from the age of twenty-four to seventy 
 when, " as the thoughts occurred, he recorded them in 
 verse, and, at last, connected the whole together." It 
 seems interesting to view the erudite Archaeologist in this 
 
 * Longmans & Co., 1845. 
 
448 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 other light, as he informs us he endeavoured to reach the 
 ease and melody of Goldsmith, and did not aspire to the 
 elaborate and elegant style of Pope. The Life of Richard 
 he paints as an example of the facilis descensus Averni, but 
 never excuses vice nor palliates crime. His reasons for the 
 task of developing this opinion are thus stated : — •" Bodily 
 debilities, increasing with advancing age, unfit and preclude 
 me from laborious investigations, and greatly lessen my 
 usual activities in my intellectual pursuits. But to look 
 over and arrange what I have formerly composed for my 
 own enjoyment suits my present condition; and desiring 
 that it may contribute to support the moral interest of 
 society ... I publish this work, with the hope that it may 
 be, in some respects, not unserviceable to others, nor, to my 
 friends at least, unwelcome from myself." Would that as 
 venial and valid reasons could be given by many literary 
 men I have known for writing and publishing tragedies. In 
 this case, though a singular, it was not an uncongenial 
 relaxation. 
 
 
( 449 ) 
 
 SIR DAVID WILKIE. 
 
 WILKIE has been called the Scottish Terriers : a tribute 
 justly due to his technical skill and faithfully 
 characteristic portraiture of national features in the middle 
 and humbler walks of life. But in several respects he 
 departed from, and greatly surpassed, Teniers. He was 
 never vulgar. That vice of an elder age of boorism, con- 
 spicuous in the Ostades, Jan Steens, and other masters of 
 the Dutch and Flemish schools, had not a trace in the 
 equally homely and familiar scenes of Wilkie. His truths 
 were common; but I might say refined, as if (and it is odd 
 enough to try to imagine the effect) the genius of a Teniers 
 and a Watteau could be blended together, and we might see 
 what pictures the amalgamation would produce. Again, 
 Wilkie possessed sentiment. Many of his pieces appeal to 
 the higher and better feelings of human nature. How are 
 our sympathies awakened by the sorrows and anguish of the 
 suffering group in the "Distraining for Rent!" and how 
 strong the moral lesson taught by the contrast of the apathetic 
 and sordid worldlings ! Pity and hate are ineffaceably planted 
 in the mind of the spectator ; and precept and examjrie must 
 be lost on a stolid temperament, if the reality of such cir- 
 cumstances, in living experience, does not (as the lesson has 
 taught) cause the soul to burn more sensibly against the 
 oppressors, and the heart to yearn with greater tenderness 
 for the afflicted. 
 
 Then, also, with regard to all the incidents in telling his 
 story, how excellent are the works of Wilkie ! " The 
 2 G 
 
450 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Penny Wedding," and " Reading the Will," and " Blind 
 Man's Buff," and "The Village Festival," can only be 
 matched by such treasures of art as Maclise's " Irish Snap- 
 Apple Night," Frith' s " Ramsgate," or " Epsom Downs," or 
 a masterpiece of the admirable artist whom we have lately 
 lost, Mulready, each a chef d'oeuvre of a famous band. And 
 if we look for a composition of the most perfect dramatic 
 interest — a bit of canvas, to read through every minute part 
 as if they were printed words and lines and pages in a captivat- 
 ing volume — we have only to sit down before the " Chelsea 
 Pensioners reading the Gazette of the Battle of Waterloo," 
 and remember that, since Hogarth's " March of the Guards 
 to Finchley," there has been no such achievement of the 
 same merit among all the paintings of Europe. I will not 
 here speak of " The Queen's First Council," " The Maid of 
 Saragossa," and other performances in different styles, but 
 drop at once from the great artist to the small Fifeshire 
 boy. 
 
 Davie Wilkie was the son of the minister of Cults and 
 
 of I forget the name, but it is of little consequence. 
 
 As it is the fashion now-a-days, to ascribe all the attributes 
 of extraordinary men to the fountain-head of Mother, it 
 may be well to mention that Davie's mamma was not a re- 
 markably clever woman — not even strong-minded, nor 
 gifted with any capacity beyond being a staid and worthy 
 minister's wife, a good neighbour, and very douce and un- 
 demonstrative in her manners — as, indeed, her celebrated 
 son was, in the height of his fair fortune, renown, and 
 popularity. So far he inherited on the maternal side, and 
 there was no "contrariwise" infusion of the blood from the 
 paternal origin : his father being a becomingly decent and 
 very respectable clergyman. His first, and I should surmise 
 almost his only, perturbations with respect to the young 
 Davie arose from his having to scold him for his addiction 
 to the spoiling of paper by scribbling pictures, instead of 
 giving all his time to more profitable employment. Yet, 
 
SIR DAVID WILKIE. 451 
 
 sooth to say, the practice was not so unremunerative as 
 might be supposed ; for at ten or twelve years of age, or 
 perhaps even earlier, Davie was in the habit of selling his 
 pictures to his schoolfellows for pence and halfpence, which 
 enabled him to provide materials for himself without trench- 
 ing on his father's stationery or purse for cartoons and 
 colours. My informant, a near neighbour and contemporary, 
 has seen many of these drawings. They were in water- 
 colours, and he remembers one specimen which left the 
 most vivid impression upon his mind, viz., a " Recruiting 
 Sergeant," which for fidelity and character afforded the 
 fairest promise of the future Royal Academican. Several 
 other subjects were in the possession of the family of Cock- 
 burn, who resided near Pitlessie (the village adjacent to 
 Cults), and who preserved them some years ; but whither 
 they have gone, or whether still in existence, are questions 
 I have no means of answering. They led, however, to the 
 painter's first grand essay in oil, and " Pitlessie Fair" fixed 
 him in the professional groove of the Fine Arts for life. His 
 studies for this grand essay were chiefly portraits of his own 
 relatives and acquaintances, and caricatures of the elders and 
 grave members of the Kirk ; and these, mingled with 
 familiar rustics and noticeable characters, gave the Fair so 
 loud a local fame that his father's doubts were vanquished. 
 He gave in to Davie's education as an artist. 
 
 At the age of twenty years Wilkie had so distinguished 
 himself in the Edinburgh school, as to assure those who 
 directed his studies of his future eminence, should no 
 casualty intervene to blight the manifest promise. He was 
 advised to " push his fortune in London," and to London he 
 came, where he found a friendly reception from a distant 
 relative, I believe, of the same name, and Avho had been a 
 fellow-student with his father at St. Andrew's in older 
 times. This gentleman had seen much service in the navy, 
 and was now a navy agent residing in Lambeth, with an 
 office in one of the streets from the Strand to the river. 
 2 g 2 
 
452 MEN I HAVE KNOWN". 
 
 Under his auspices, and with his advice, the young 
 Scottish aspirant was more readily planted, and took 
 root with fewer obstacles to overcome than is usual in the 
 crowded soil of the metropolis. He had his struggle, no 
 doubt; but, chiefly owing to the genial introduction, it was 
 neither so fierce nor so prolonged as is commonly the case 
 with the generality of his countrymen — or, indeed, of almost 
 all provincial adventurers — who rush to fight their way to 
 fortune or fame in the mighty mart of vehement competi- 
 tion. It is true that his first public effort was not so 
 liberally encouraged as it ought to have been by wealthy 
 patrons ; but it made its mark on the better judges of art, 
 and attracted wide popular favour. Thence opinion grew, 
 and prices rose with every new exhibition, and the " Village 
 Politicians" obviously opened, and the "Blind Fiddler" 
 clearly led his way into the rank of a Royal Academican, 
 which he attained within little more than five years after 
 his coup d'essai on the wall of Somerset House. Thence- 
 forward his course lay only on a higher range, but was 
 hardly more equable and satisfactory than it had been 
 before. He held on the even though ascending tenor of 
 his way, receiving tribute in the shape of round sums of 
 "good red gold" for his works, and royal commissions, and 
 appointments, and honours, as he advanced himself to the 
 topmost stejo in the ladder of artistic ambition. 
 
 The election of president, on the death of Sir Martin 
 Shee, hung (I had reason to suppose) nearly poised on the 
 balance with the accomplished inheritor of that title, and 
 the issue was decided by the idea (entertained especially 
 after the elegance of Lawrence and the eloquence of Shee) 
 that oratory was a needful quality in the head of the 
 Academy, and that Wilkie was not distinguished by any 
 extraordinary aptitude for making capital speeches. 
 
 To revert, however, to his chronological course whilst 
 fortunately pursuing it under flowing sail : the failure of a 
 very near relative, for whom he had become security, and 
 
SIR DAVID WILKIE. 453 
 
 who died leaving a widow and family in great distress, 
 involved him in considerable pecuniary loss ; and, what was 
 still worse, so deeply affected his health, that he was glad to 
 seek in foreign travel and a wider scope for improvement in 
 his art, a relief from the depression of mind occasioned by 
 this calamitous visitation. During this tour in Italy, Spain, 
 and France, which occupied three years, he seemed to have 
 been particularly attracted by the Spanish painters, and, in 
 Spain, became so fascinated with their productions, especially 
 with those of Velasquez and Murillo, as to be induced to 
 adopt a new style, more akin to theirs, and very different 
 from that in which he bad been so pre-eminently successful. 
 In this there was a great deal to admire ; but still, it must 
 be owned it could not be compared with his own native and 
 original manner. Some time after, I had the pleasure of 
 traversing a portion of Ireland in his company, and he was 
 as enthusiastic in his studies of Irish nationalities as he had 
 previously been in adopting the Spanish type wherein to re- 
 present them. The anomaly was curious, and to witness 
 the exercise of his pencil in gathering data for its develop- 
 ment a source of frequent and precious delight. I grieved 
 when he quitted me upon the Shannon, to dive into the 
 wilds of Connaught, and paint Irish stills in the manner of 
 Velasquez. 
 
 Abroad and at home Wilkie was ever the same. Tall and 
 slightly gauche, he was frank and straightforward, and open 
 as the day. There was, indeed, a simplicity in his character 
 which tended to make society his friends. It appeared to 
 the worldly wise that it would be something like a scandal 
 to resort to deceit, in order to impose upon so unguarded a 
 nature ; but they were not quite correct in their reckoning, 
 for Sir David had enough of the " canny Scot " about him 
 for self-defence. He did not wear his heart upon his sleeve 
 for daws to peck at. As in art he was gifted with the 
 finest perceptions — the foundation of a highly cultivated 
 judgment — so in the business of life his astute sagacity 
 
454 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 served faithfully as a guide to save him from a rash reliance 
 on appearances, and too ready confidence in words and pro- 
 fessions. His own firm integrity, too, was a powerful shield 
 against the temptations to error. Wilkie was prudent, not 
 distrustful. He was also rather grave, or undemonstrative 
 in his demeanour ; and even when he appeared at evening 
 parties he might have been mistaken for a Dominie Samson. 
 Yet sometimes Sir David would astonish his younger friends 
 by a specimen of a Scottish dance, a reminiscence of his 
 earlier flings — double quick, over the buckle, and I know 
 not what other strange frisks and capering vagaries. 
 
 Mild and unassuming, I dare say his behaviour at 
 court was all that etiquette could command ; but I will 
 answer for it that, after his appointments and commissions 
 brought him into the personal observation of our much 
 loved and honoured Queen, her Majesty had not within her 
 realm a more loyal and devoted subject than Sir David 
 Wilkie. I never met with an attachment of the kind so 
 overwhelming. It became literally a passion, the ruling 
 passion of his art-life. To paint, and repeat, and repeat the 
 royal portrait was his boundless delight. When the order 
 was received all else was thrown aside, and a canvas worth 
 a large sum, within a few touches of completeness, would 
 be left unfinished (perhaps much injured) till the last touches 
 were bestowed on the elaborate whole-length, which was to 
 adorn the palace of some Continental prince, to whom it was 
 quite immaterial whether it was presented in that year or 
 five years later. As if bound by being the royal Painter in 
 Ordinary, it was his sole unintermitted occupation till it 
 was done, and his gracious sovereign's order fulfilled. He 
 was generally fond of society (limited), but on these occa- 
 sions hardly any entreaty could prevail on him for even a 
 few hours to forego his almost idolatrous devotion to his 
 painting. 
 
 Much moved thereto by motives in which art was really 
 subordinate to religious sentiment, Wilkie, like his celebrated 
 
SIR DAVID WILKIE. 455 
 
 countryman and contemporary, David Roberts, departed 
 from us on a journey to Egypt and the Holy Land. It is 
 above twenty years ago, yet I remember bis farewell as if 
 yesterday. He was high in heart and full of hope, and 
 spoke of the sacred treasures he would bring back — the 
 illustrations of the Scriptures and the relics of ancient times. 
 Ah ! had he never heard, or had he forgotten the Spanish 
 proverb, " Man says, ' Thus and thus ;' Heaven answers, 
 ' Not so, not so ; ' " or the more frequent apophthegm, 
 "Man proposes, but God disposes." He passed onward, 
 and returned no more. 
 
 An account of his richly-stored portfolio, brought home 
 by his travelling companion, Mr. W. Woodburn, does not 
 fall within my plan. The last work he executed before he 
 sailed from Alexandria for Europe, was a portrait of 
 Mehemet AH, the potentate of Egypt. At Malta (as every- 
 where else where he was recognised) he was honoured and 
 feted, and unhappily indulged too freely in the cooling re- 
 freshment of fruit and ices. An indisposition of apparently 
 no threatening danger was the consequence ; but, on the 
 medical aid on board the vessel being called for, it was 
 found that the symptoms were mortal, and in two hours he 
 expired. The dread of the plague on shore, and the safety 
 of eighty passengers on board, forbade the burial or pre- 
 servation of the body ; and, with mutilated rites, it was, 
 without delay, consigned to the keeping of the mighty sea 
 in the bay off Gibraltar. That rock will be a monument 
 many a time and oft to recall to the mourning voyager the 
 fate of our lamented artist — with the means just gathered 
 and a new harvest of glory patent before him — in the midst 
 of such a labour of love, at an age of unimpaired coi-poral 
 and intellectual vigour (55) — a life sweetened by every cir- 
 cumstance that could be craved for human happiness, 
 suddenly cut off and disappearing like the baseless fabric of 
 a vision, without a trace, a momentary ripple on the vast 
 expanse of ocean. To me it seems like a shadowy dream ; 
 
456 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 and even whilst I write — stimulated, perhaps, by my subject 
 ■ — I can hardly persuade myself that the stalwart form of 
 the dead, yet alive and in health, bronzed by the Syrian 
 sun, may not enter and approach me with the honest out- 
 stretched hand, and speak — oh, that I could hear it! — of 
 Jerusalem, and Horeb, and Galilee! 
 
 When the sad news was received, a meeting at the 
 "Thatched House" was held, Sir Robert Peel in the chair, 
 and a subscription for a statue to commemorate the genius 
 of Wilkie entered into. Above a thousand pounds was sub- 
 scribed, and the statue now in the hall of the National 
 Gallery is the result. The likeness, I believe, is from a bust 
 by Joseph ; but the figure looks small, and would not suit 
 St. Paul's Cathedral, where it was at one time proposed to 
 place it. The editor of the " Literary Gazette " suggested 
 the application of any surplus fund to the award of an 
 annual Wilkie medal towards the encouragement of that 
 branch of the art in which he so brightly shone ; but the 
 idea was not adopted, if, indeed, there were means to carry 
 it into effect. How deeply Wilkie loved it, and how 
 deserving it was of his love, may be gathered from the 
 glowing affection with which he regarded the Murillos in 
 Madrid and Seville, and how justly he estimated one like 
 himself, whose works were alike the admiration of the 
 learned and the unlearned — thus oracularly writing : " Far 
 be it from us to envy the taste of those who despise, in 
 matters of art, the sympathy of the untutored mind ; when 
 unoccasioned by trick or deception, it is, perhaps, the most 
 lasting evidence of the power of true excellence." I cannot 
 conclude more appropriately than by adding another canon 
 of sound art criticism which Wilkie quotes from Sir George 
 Beaumont :* "White is not light, and detail is not finish." 
 
 * Sir George Beaumont, with Sir Abraham Hume and Sir Charles 
 Long, afterwards Lord Farnborough, formed a most accomplished 
 trio as connoisseurs and patrons of the British school. For muni- 
 
SIR DAVID WILKIE. 457 
 
 The latter truth seems quite unknown to some of the 
 miserable triflers of the pre-Raffaellite school. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 The letter from which my autograph of Wilkie is copied 
 is one I received from him after the Burns Festival at Free- 
 masons' Tavern in 1816. To the meeting he came, with 
 ten friends, and subscribed three guineas to the monument. 
 Enclosing the fourteen pounds three shillings, and leaving 
 Mr. Thomas Wilkie to account for another portion, he shows 
 his national sympathy thus : "In case there should be a 
 meeting of stewards to wind up the business, I beg that you 
 will take the opportunity of recommending a proposition to 
 them, which I have heard recommended both by those who 
 were at the dinner and by those who have to regret that 
 they were not : it is that the lively feeling which a festival 
 in honour of Burns would at all times call forth among 
 Scotchmen, should be taken advantage of on a future occa- 
 sion in benefiting his family : and that the stewards, before 
 separating, should make some provision for the recurrence 
 of a meeting which would be looked forward to, even for its 
 own sake, with delight by eA^ery true lover of his country 
 and of its genius." My readers will see in the sketch of the 
 Earl of Aberdeen, how great a benefit at once resulted to 
 Burns's family from this meeting ; though with regard to 
 future festivals of the same nature, no specific plan has ever 
 yet been organized. Still Burns's birthdays continue to be 
 observed throughoirt the habitable globe, wherever the 
 natives of Scotland and Scottish patriotic feeling exist ; and 
 
 ficence, founded on pure taste, Sir John Leicester, afterwards Lord 
 de Tabley, stood foremost among all in the encouragement of our 
 National Art. 
 
458 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the late imposing Centenary made a grand demonstration in 
 honour of his immortal name ; — yet I must confess my 
 agreement with the sentiment of Wilkie, that a universal 
 and permanent holiday should be appointed and kept in 
 connection with some desirable national object — the succour 
 of the unfortunate — the solace of the poor. As it is, I am 
 almost ashamed to confess I never made an effort, and add 
 the conclusion of his letter : — " From the very handsome 
 manner in which the last meeting was conducted, I think 
 that any future meeting of the kind could not be better 
 arranged than by yourself, to whom, in my opinion, the 
 chief merit of the conduct of the last is due." 
 
 One of the rare honours paid to Wilkie himself was his 
 election as an honorary member of the Highland Society ; 
 upon which he set much value. 
 
 His statue at the foot of the stairs of the Royal Academy 
 Exhibition Rooms, is, as already remarked, a fair likeness, 
 but has no other recommendation. 
 
 1/iH^Mi ^^\ yUsA 
 
( 459 ) 
 
 LORD WILLOUGUBY DE ERESBY. 
 
 THOUGH he has been so recently taken from us, I can- 
 not resist the desire to leave a record of Lord Wil- 
 loughby on the roll of the Men I have Known. A long 
 intimacy with which he honoured me enabled me fully to 
 appreciate his character, and impressed a deep feeling of 
 admiration for its peculiar and general excellences. He 
 realized my ideal of a British nobleman. But I am 
 certain, in my own mind, that this high opinion is not 
 of a nature to warp the truth, and lead me to a delinea- 
 tion more imaginative than just, and so to idly indulge in 
 the strain of eulogy too often mis-spent on the dull, cold 
 ear of death. And my sincere conscientiousness in this 
 respect will be confirmed by observing that I do not 
 propose to set up, as it were, before the reader what the 
 common language of the world calls a Great Man. Lord 
 Willoughby, with all his endowments, too modestly retired 
 from seeking his just share of public distinctions. But, in 
 the comparatively private station in which he lived, his 
 charities and good deeds were unbounded ; and, when any 
 of his beneficent or generous acts were discovered, he evaded 
 recognition, and blushed to find them fame. 
 
 I looked upon, and shall ever esteem, the man as an in- 
 valuable model in his relations with his fellow-men ; and 
 hence my purpose is faithfully to present that example to 
 view for grateful remembrance and imitation. If 1 am 
 competent for my subject, it will prove how much true 
 greatness may consist in true goodness. 
 
460 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 Following my usual plan in these sketches, and avoiding 
 any attempt at formal biography, I wish merely to present 
 some prominent points of personal character ; and these can 
 often be best illustrated by simple anecdotes and brief recol- 
 lections of minor incidents. But, in this case, it is only 
 right to refer also to the lofty rank and the public eminence 
 of Lord Willoughby as a peer of the realm — the representa- 
 tive of six centuries of illustrious ancestry, with, I believe, 
 the blood of not less than six peerages mingling in his 
 veins. Worthy of the highest descent, Lord Willoughby 
 was endowed with clear perceptions and sound judgment. 
 His spirit was lofty and his mind free. In political and 
 private life he was the same. In the former his patriotism 
 was liberal, and devoted to the honour of his country and 
 the welfare of the people. In the latter his opinions were 
 ruled by punctilious honour, and his benevolence extended 
 to the farthest limit of judicious charity. These, in their 
 most genial form, were ennobling attributes, and gave him 
 great weight and influence in the sphere in which he was 
 born to move. 
 
 Gathering their information chiefly from the newspaper 
 reports of the speeches and actions of the busiest and most 
 conspicuous of those who are engaged in political struggles, 
 the public are little aware of the silent influence exercised 
 by statesmen whose voices are rarely or never heard in the 
 senate, nor their doings proclaimed through the press. I 
 could mention names, unspoken of during the present time, 
 which will be known to history as among the most potent 
 movers in determining the policy and controlling the affairs 
 of the empire. In this way the influence of men like Lord 
 Willoughby far exceeds Avhat might be supposed from the 
 public mention of their names. 
 
 But, leaving the official points of character appropriately 
 adorning one of the highest hei-editary dignities of England,* 
 
 * Hereditary Lord Great Chamberlain. 
 
LORD WILLOUGHBY DE EttESBY. 461 
 
 I -proceed to my proposed endeavour to illustrate the 
 amenities, the right feeling, and the sterling worth which 
 are so admirable in all stations, though most conspicuous 
 when they are added to wealth and rank. One of the dis- 
 tinguishing traits of the well-bred and naturally humane is 
 the avoidance of aught that can offend the amour prop7*e, 
 or, in other words, give pain or mortification to others. It 
 becomes so habitual that it seems innate. It is, in fact, 
 only carrying into social life the beautiful maxim to do unto 
 others as you would have them do unto you. It is often in 
 mere thoughtlessness that this precious rule is so liable to be 
 transgressed in ordinary life ; its transgression is not a vice, 
 but a defect evidencing that all with whom we associate are 
 not gifted with, or educated to, the manners of gentlemen. 
 Lord Willoughby was a perfect type of the highest class. 
 
 A familiar anecdote — I might, but for its teaching, call it 
 trifling — will elucidate my meaning. I arrived as a guest 
 at Drummond Castle on the eve of one of the great Scottish 
 cattle-shows ; and, as I knew Lord Willoughby took an 
 earnest share in all agricultural improvements, I heartily 
 wished he might take me along with him to the exhibi- 
 tion, more than thirty miles off. The day wore away, 
 however; the reports of wonderful oxen and sheep were 
 spoken of, but no invitation for the morning was offered to 
 the poor disappointed visitor. At breakfast I learned from 
 Lady Willoughby that his lordship had posted away at six 
 o'clock, and I expressed my chagrin that I had not gone with 
 him. How vexatious it was to be told that his lordship had 
 expressed similar regret, but, as he supposed I did not care 
 for such animal congregations, had not made the proposal. 
 I had, unfortunately, missed his letter to Edinburgh asking 
 me to go with him, and my silence was taken for disinclina- 
 tion. But the more marked delicacy of the treatment fol- 
 lowed. I happened to be the only guest at the time, and 
 Lord Willoughby, instead of stopping to feast with the 
 Duke of Richmond and the other eminent persons at the 
 
462 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 grand banquet, hastened home to fulfil the duties of hospi- 
 tality at his own table with his imagined recalcitrant guest. 
 
 Nor let it be fancied that, though the incident seems 
 trivial, the lesson is not important. The noteworthy point 
 is that the same respect was paid to the humble individual 
 as wotdd have been to a prince. Noblesse oblige was shown 
 to be the rule of courteous life. I am not one to under- 
 value the greater and homelier virtues that may shine under 
 rougher manners, or to bow to condescensions from the 
 higher to inferior classes as if sycophancy were the tribute 
 due to them. With the Ayrshire poet, I would never forget 
 that " a man's a man for a' that," and owes a certain value 
 to his own manhood ; but so long as there are great 
 inequalities in the condition of mankind, the rich and the 
 poor, the powerful and the weak, the educated and the 
 ignorant, so long will there be sentiments engendered by the 
 trying nature of their intercourse of incalculable service, if 
 properly understood, for the comfort of society and the 
 welfare of the community at large. The upper classes never 
 can so essentially contribute to their own happiness and 
 welfare as by living on the kindliest terms with the work- 
 ing classes, who form the broad basis of the social pyramid ; 
 and the masses are never in so right a path as when cordially 
 receiving and appreciating the genuine consideration of 
 their wants and feelings by their more fortunate brethren. 
 Alas ! it is in human nature for disparity to be envious, 
 ignorance jealous, and poverty sensitive ; and the wise, 
 humane, and righteous way to avert the evils likely to spring 
 from this common condition of mankind is to treat envy 
 generously, and jealousy candidly, and poverty tenderly ; 
 and then we might look more assuredly to the return of a 
 "golden age," or, what would be still more blessed, if the 
 highest motives operate, a Christian state of social life. 
 
 But, though I have given one illustration of character, 
 not for its importance, but for the impression it made on my 
 own mind, I may not lose sight of the extension of the 
 
LORD WILLOUGHBY DE ERESBY. 463 
 
 feeling to matters of greater moment. I took an excursion 
 to see Perth, so full of historical and legendary fame, in 
 company with the then agent for the Drummond estates, 
 and in the course of our conversations he mentioned to me 
 the amount of rental, and how easy it would be, leaving 
 still a most liberal margin for the tenantry, to raise it 
 several thousands a year. Shortly after taking a turn in the 
 garden with Lord Willoughby, waiting for the dinner-bell, 
 I mentioned the statement, and, idly enough, expressed my 
 surprise at the circumstance. I cannot well forget the 
 reproof I received, agreeable as was the tone in which it 
 was administered. We were just going in, his lordship 
 hoped, to a good dinner, and he trusted that there was not 
 much fault to be found with the other accommodations of 
 the castle. Was there anything I might want for my 
 comfort and enjoyment 1 ~No doubt I earnestly disclaimed 
 the idea of my finding any fault with what I deemed (and 
 a.11 who ever knew it deemed) a paradise upon earth, and 
 was brought to confess that I did not think the felicity of 
 the situation could be increased by any addition to the rents. 
 " Well," said my lord, " you seemed much pleased with the 
 appearance of the young married pair in the pew near us 
 last Sunday ; how well they were dressed, how well they 
 looked, how happy they appeared to be, and how excellent 
 a specimen (man and wife being one) they were of the fine 
 Highland race. The bridegroom is the son of your friend 
 Vespasian yonder,* and has just entered upon one of the 
 nicest farms on the property : do you think it would be any 
 gratification to Lady Willoughby or to me to put a few 
 
 * The clan Drummond are generally well-proportioned and ath- 
 letic, and the females good-looking. My " friend Vespasian " was a 
 principal tenant, to whom I had given the title from his remarkable 
 resemblance to the marble bust of the Roman emperor among the 
 twelve Csesar ornaments of the admirable garden at Drummond 
 Castle. 
 
464 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 pounds towards rack upon his annual charge 1" I could not 
 imagine it probable ! 
 
 But solicitude for the welfare of those within their sphere 
 did not stop with special cases like this. I had the pleasure 
 to assist his lordship in drawing up a graduated scheme, 
 which he had devised for the benefit of all who were con- 
 nected with, or dependent upon, the chief now at the head 
 of their community. It was so regulated that, at stated 
 periods, and according to a scale laid clown and agreed upon, 
 every individual on the estate, from the highest tenant to 
 the lowest labourer, should set apart a portion of profits or 
 wages, to form a common fund as a provision against future 
 contingencies. It was a noble plan ; and when the sum 
 total (a very considerable one, of many hundred pounds) was 
 reckoned up, its generous promoters just doubled it. I need 
 not describe Avhat evils were prevented and what sufferings 
 alleviated by means of this delightful savings bank, or 
 mutual assurance fund. Cattle or sheep were lost on the 
 farm, accidents happened to machinery, crops partially failed, 
 sickness seized the labourer or casualty befell him, age and 
 infirmity grew heavy on his family — in all the ills that flesh 
 is heir to here was succour for the unfortunate and balm for 
 the afflicted. Often have I pondered, were it possible to 
 adopt such a system to our national condition (with the 
 needful applications for migratory habits), how enormous 
 would be the blessing, how few would seek the workhouse, 
 how few beggars would exist, how the aged would be suc- 
 coured, how the miserable would be comforted, how upright 
 we should see the down-bent, stooping, worn-out labourer 
 walk, how healthful many pale and decrepit mechanics 
 would look, how crime would be diminished by the absence 
 of prompting want, how self-respect would be cultivated, 
 and the country never again be appalled by the horrifying 
 stories of starving to death. Yet, dream as this may be, I 
 am sure that a great deal might be accomplished in this 
 salutary direction, even if conijndsory measures to realize it 
 
LORD WILLOUGHBY DE ERESBY. 465 
 
 were resorted to. All tlie lessons of political economy, all 
 the moral advising of prudence, and all the hallucinations 
 of beatitude in equality are but vain imaginings to what is 
 possible by any extent of practicable organization after the 
 example of Drummond Castle. 
 
 I have so far exhibited individual and local effects of a 
 very gratifying nature emanating from the simple sources of 
 cultivated manners, refined tastes, and generous dispositions. 
 But Lord "Willoughby was eminently practical, and aimed 
 at general improvement as the result of his persevering 
 experiments. He devoted much time to the useful reclama- 
 tion of waste land, and the conversion of peat into con- 
 solidated fuel, more valuable for all purposes, and especially 
 for the arts, manufactures, and industrial pursuits of the 
 country. He was the leader in this line of economic experi- 
 ment, which, though of small account to Englishmen, is of 
 no little importance to Scotland, with its vast tracts of bog 
 and moor. Year after year I witnessed the progress of the 
 design — the trials of seasons, conditions, newly-invented 
 machines, methods of compression, etc. — till all difficulties 
 were overcome, and the peat-fuel was employed in steam 
 navigation. I possess a razor, made by Savigny, the cele- 
 brated cutler, which proved that, being without sulphur, 
 this substance far surpassed coal in the manufacture of steel. 
 Lord Willoughby finished his laborious and costly task, and, 
 like the noble man he was, he threw it openly to the public ; 
 and all the advantages at present reaped from his services 
 are hardly traced or acknowledged to have sprung from 
 their unostentatious and disinterested author. 
 
 The same story may be told of his experiments with the 
 steam-plough, which he brought into perfect operation ; and 
 other agricultural improvements for which the country owes 
 him a debt of deep and lasting gratitude. He took the 
 warmest interest in the prosperity of agriculture and the 
 welfare of its labouring ranks, and, independently of his 
 worth in other respects, might have deserved the answer 
 2 H 
 
466 
 
 MEN" I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 paid by the Delphic oracle to Myson, when Anacharsis 
 inquired who was the wisest man in Greece, " He who is 
 now ploughing his fields ! " 
 
 My readers, I have essayed by a few light traits, to afford 
 some idea of a truly good as well as great man — good in all 
 the relations of life, fully sensible of the responsibilities of 
 his social station, and urged far beyond the mere fulfilment 
 of implied duties by a noble spirit of independent patriotism, 
 and a firm religious sense of the claim of charity upon his 
 fortune, and of Christianity upon himself. I may seem to 
 be guilty of egotism from the manner in which I have 
 spoken of association with several of the actions of one I 
 have so highly eulogized ; but at any rate I will make bold 
 to say that, if I have exalted myself a little, I may plead as 
 an excuse the fact of being honoured, through many years, 
 with the intimate and confidential friendship of such persons 
 as Lord and Lady Willoughby. 
 
 I have only to add that, in body as in mind, Lord 
 Willoughby stood eminent among his fellows. His frame 
 was manly, and he was distinguished in manly sports and 
 pursuits. His presence was lofty and commanding, as may 
 be seen in all the paintings and engravings of the grand 
 national ceremonies of the last half-century. In the coro- 
 nations, courts, royal mai'riages, and other magnificent 
 assemblages, his high office of joint hereditary Great 
 Chamberlain gave him a conspicuous place, and a glance at 
 any of these splendid pictures will show that it could not 
 have been occupied by one more to the manner born and 
 dignified. Take him for all in all, he was as perfect an 
 example as could be found of the noblest qualities which 
 in our times have graced an English baron* and Scottish 
 chief. 
 
 * Willoughby de Eresby is one of the very ancient baronies 
 created by writ of summons, which pass, being heritable, by heirs 
 male or female, at different periods into different families, and 
 sometimes remain for centuries dormant ; for, in the instance of 
 
LORD WILLOUGHBY DE ERESBY. 467 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 In my foregoing concluding summary of the character of a 
 nobleman who possessed so rare a combination of the finest 
 qualities that can adorn humanity, I have offered a praise 
 in words which did not strictly belong to him, and which 
 would, in fact, militate a little against my picture of that 
 most delicate feeling which gave to every one what was 
 due, and abnegated self. Thus if I hailed him as a 
 " Scottish Chief," I should have found myself mistaken. 
 Suum cuique. if he acted in every way as such a chief 
 would, it was only as the Henchman of his Lady, the 
 lineal representative, heiress and head of the great clan 
 Drummond ! It was almost amusing to observe his con- 
 stant deference, and I may also say public homage in this 
 respect ! To a clansman on any errand of business, it was, 
 " I must consult Lady Willoughby ! " On every work or 
 alteration upon the estate, even to the felling of a tree, 
 nothing was clone without Lady Willoughby. 
 
 It was all in the same spirit I have attempted to delineate, 
 but could only indicate, in his attentions to so humble an 
 individual as myself — it was wonderfully minute, as well as 
 filling all larger space, and appeared to be a spontaneous 
 acting of Nature. I had once expressed a higher opinion of 
 one Leith wine than another : next season only the approved 
 vintage was on the table ! I question if this instance of 
 refined hospitality could be surpassed by the best and most 
 polished society in the world. But it was the same in 
 every respect. I arrived late of a night when his lordship 
 was feasting the tenantry in the restored gatehouse : was 
 immediately presented to them with many compliments) 
 
 there being no male heir, but several female, the barony does not 
 devolve upon the eldest daughter, but upon all conjointly, and can- 
 not, consequently, be inherited until there be a single heir to the 
 whole without the especial interference of the Crown. 
 2 H 2 
 
468 MEN I HAVE KNOWN". 
 
 and toasted as his friend, being thus at once made a freeman 
 of the Clan. And no thankless promotion either. No 
 matter where I wandered thereafter, I was recognised 
 and my sport assisted everywhere. "Where the game was 
 to be found — where it had been disturbed — and, in short, 
 every useful intelligence was sedulously communicated ; 
 and when successful I had but to follow the honoured 
 custom of the Drummond Estates, to make a sign where I 
 had deposited a hare or brace of grouse for the farmer to 
 take home to his own fireside. This is an excellent method 
 for securing good sport ; and an example worthy of being 
 generally followed. 
 
 Surely it is not surprising that the autumnal migration to 
 the Highlands of Scotland should have assumed such mag- 
 nitude. Nothing, to any individual doomed for months to 
 sedentary habits, can exceed the benefits and pleasure, the 
 exchange bestows. With every day of wholesome exercise, 
 health and vigour (obviously) increase ; and then, if the 
 privilege of sporting be accessible, the heath will supply a 
 wide range of enjoyment : he can make himself very 
 happy in climbing a rugged rock for a shot at ptarmigan, or 
 even be lifted to ecstacy by " knocking over " a red deer ! 
 Why, he becomes heroic. 
 
 I proposed to myself in this paper to illustrate Lord 
 Willoughby's character, in one private point of view, by 
 some of those small incidental anecdotes which prove much, 
 though they may seem too trivial for serious record. I can 
 only hope that I have not missed my object, by the misuse 
 of my means. My gratitude for a long life of kindness, and 
 my attachment to his Lordship and Lady "Willoughby may 
 have influenced my expression of sentiments in a manner 
 not altogether seemly in our comparative social rank but I 
 trust that in this case, and throughout my woi^k, the 
 reader will do me the credit to believe that my familiarity 
 in style has not proceeded from presumption or vanity, but 
 simply from the desire to avoid repetitions and circumlocu- 
 
LORD WILLOUGHBY DE ERESBY. 469 
 
 tion in language. With this explanation, or apology, I 
 will take the liberty of completing (as it were), the Portrait 
 of Lord Willoughby, by joining with it, as a rightful 
 exception in my plan, that of the admirable lady whom I 
 have described as one with him, in life and in death, and 
 conspicuously above all in the splendid hospitalities of 
 Drummond Castle, unspoilt by frivolous etiquette, and 
 rendered all but domestic by the kind heartiness and good 
 heart that never ceased to reign there. 
 
 The warm home of true Highland hospitality is cold. 
 Drummond Castle has lost its noble mistress. I will not 
 venture to pronounce, as it might justly be pronounced in 
 superlative language, a funeral eulogy upon Lady Wil- 
 loughby ; it shall suffice me to say she was admirable for a 
 rare combination of an amiable nature with sound sense, a 
 highly cultivated mind, a finely appreciative knowledge of 
 the world and its men and women of many ranks, a liberal 
 charity, and a considerateness and respect for the feelings 
 of others, high or low, which alone is one of the most 
 endearing qualities that can be met with in all the diverse 
 relations of social life. In short, she was, to the letter, a 
 good, humane, generous, and high-souled Christian woman — 
 none more excellent and exemplary in the observance of 
 domestic and private duties, or more estimable in the dis- 
 charge of those functions to which she was called by her 
 position as peeress of the realm, and wedded to its here- 
 ditary Lord Great Chamberlain. The family of Drummond 
 is of very remote antiquity ; but it is enough to notice the 
 marriage of the Lady Annabella, daughter of Sir John 
 Drummond, of Stobhall (the original estate still among the 
 larger Perth inheritances), to King Robert III., thus 
 becoming the mother of James I., who was murdered by 
 his rebellious nobles. To this royal alliance may be traced 
 a part of that devoted loyalty to the Stuart race which 
 rendered the Drummond clan so obnoxious to the success- 
 ful power, and subjected it and its chiefs to the severest 
 
470 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 persecution. They were patriots, as they understood the 
 sense of the term, and loyal to the utmost verge of endurance 
 for the sake of their king and their country? The principle 
 was tried by the fire and not found wanting. Three 
 " Thanes of Perth " took prominent parts in the falling 
 fortunes of the Stuarts, fearfully and chivalrously set their 
 all upon the cast, even when most desperate, and they died 
 — banished — in a foreign clime, within the space of thirty 
 years. The first of these three dukes died at St. Germains 
 in the service of King James, who bestowed the title and 
 appointed him governor to the Prince of Wales ; his son 
 James was attainted in Fifteen ; and the third was the 
 celebrated Lord Chancellor of the Forty-five, who died of 
 privations and fatigue in his attempt to escape in 1746. 
 
 " Old times are changed, old manners gone, 
 A stranger fills the Stuart throne," 
 
 sang Sir Walter Scott, but he did not live to witness the 
 memorable proof, only a few years ago, when the youthful 
 Queen of the Brunswick " usurpers" and her consort were 
 splendidly entertained at that Drumniond Castle from which 
 the Chancellor Duke barely escaped with his life, by her 
 Majesty's own Lord Great Chamberlain and his lady, the 
 direct descendant of that proscribed line, and heiress to 
 that ancient feudal abode ! Around that abode it was 
 delightful to see Lady Willoughby continually consulting 
 the welfare of her tenants and the comfortable settlement 
 of their families, and caring for the wants of the poorer 
 classes, in which she was zealously seconded by her con- 
 genial husband, as if, and indeed so it was, their supreme 
 enjoyment to diffuse happiness throughout the spacious 
 circle of which they were the centre. 
 
 That the Jacobite feeling (now transferred to the Queen 
 and her children) was by no means extinct in the days of 
 George III. is proved by a cherished tradition of the 
 people. Near the castle there is now a considerable sheet 
 of water — an artificial lake — and, as the story goes, it was 
 
LORD WILLOUGHBY DE ERESBY. 471 
 
 upon this site that the cottages of a party of the military, 
 such as were stationed all over the north to overawe the 
 natives, had been erected. When the estate was restored, 
 the mother of Lady Willoughby was consulted about 
 demolishing these huts ; but the very ground on which they 
 stood was hateful to her sight, and she gave orders that the 
 lake should be formed, and the odious spectacle be blotted 
 out from visible memory for ever. 
 
 On closing this to me very interesting chapter, I have 
 obtained leave to transcribe a congenial tribute from the 
 pen of an estimable nobleman whom I have had the 
 honour of meeting; at Drummond Castle. These feeling 
 Stanzas were addressed by Lord Eavensworth to " his 
 dear and lamented friend Lord Willoughby, after the 
 [supposed] successful operation of Couching," and were 
 presented to Lady Willoughby by their accomplished 
 author, whose autograph I added to my illustrative list. 
 
 "FIAT LUX." 
 
 Addressed to my dear friend, Lord Willoughby de Eresby, after 
 the operation of couching for Cataract. 
 
 " Let there be light ! " th' Eternal word 
 
 At Earth's creation S23oke — 
 Primawal Night obedient heard, 
 
 And light through chaos broke. 
 
 And all the heavenly host on high, 
 
 God's angel ministers, 
 Loud anthems sang in harmony 
 
 With music of the spheres. 
 
 And from the watery waste below 
 
 The mists of darkness clear' d, 
 Before that word retiring slow, 
 
 As the young earth appear'd. 
 
 Pleased at the new and glorious sight, 
 
 The great Creator stood ; 
 Divided darkness from the light, 
 
 And saw that it was good. 
 
472 MEN I HATE KNOWN. 
 
 And still we see each changing moon 
 Her change of seasons bring, 
 
 Each night's repose succeed to noon, 
 Each winter lead to spring. 
 
 And still we bless the glorious light 
 Of spring, of Heaven fresh -born; 
 
 And hail with joy the promise bright 
 Of each approaching morn. 
 
 Then oh ! how sad the lot of him, 
 Blind wanderer on his way, 
 
 "Whose visual orb suffused and dim, 
 Denies its wonted ray. 
 
 To whom each day as night is dark, 
 And each fair prospect hid, 
 
 And at one entrance every spark 
 Of knowledge quite forbid. 
 
 Yet men have lived of ancient date 
 To whom the muse hath given, 
 
 Such visions in their eyeless state, 
 As seem sent down from Heaven. 
 
 Thus Homer sang of gods and men, 
 
 And Milton spirit fired 
 Soar'd into heights beyond the ken 
 
 Of morta uninspired. 
 
 And Willoughby, perchance to thee 
 Some inward radiance shone 
 
 Of power to chase the world's ennui, 
 And check the rising groan ! 
 
 Such consolation sure was thine 
 In those long hours of night, 
 
 Which Hope and Patience, maids divine, 
 Cheer'd in their tardy flight : 
 
 Thine were the steady heart and eye, 
 The scutcheon without stain, 
 
 Borne by the brave Lord Willoughby, 
 In wars of swarthy Spain. 
 
LORD WILLOUGHBY DE ERESBY. 
 
 And sure they stood thee in good stead 
 
 Of youth's forgotten glow, 
 When fourscore years their snows had shed 
 
 Upon thy silver'd brow. 
 
 For when the hour of trial came, 
 
 That steady heart arid eye 
 Unflinching still remain'd the same, 
 
 While friends stood trembling by. 
 
 " Let there be light ! " the artist spoke, 
 
 And at his magic word, 
 The light once more through shadows broke 
 On Eresby's patient lord. 
 
 Eatensworth. 
 Dated January 25th, 1865. 
 
 473 
 
474 
 
 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 
 
 WOBDSWORTH was the "representative man" of the 
 Lake poetry, pre-eminently and peculiarly the head 
 of the school. Coleridge and Southey, and their followers, 
 diverged into other tracks, and aspired to loftier strains ; 
 but he was faithful to the Helicon waters of Cumberland 
 and the mountain Parnassus of Skiddaw. His perceptions 
 and conceptions, his means, his manner, his method, his 
 objects of study, and his modes of thought and expression, 
 were most distinctly and individually his own. He looked 
 earnestly at matters generally esteemed not worth notice, 
 and he treated them as a philanthropist and philosopher. 
 The former habit imparted an originality to his musings, 
 and the latter enabled him to draw beneficial lessons from 
 small things in nature, and even good out of evil, when 
 conflicting anomalies or gross aberrations were presented to 
 his views. 
 
 His pursuit of poetry, in this frame of mind and temper, 
 led to his questioned talent at the offset, and his doubtful 
 repute as he j>ersevered in his course. They were the cause 
 alike of his failures and successes. The weak and puerile 
 sprang from their predominating infusion of the simple, just 
 as the truly beautiful and poetic emanated from the genius 
 they fostered. And thus it came to pass that one class of 
 critics railed at what they deemed to be low and silly, 
 whilst another class applauded to the skies what they main- 
 tained to be the noblest and most beneficent themes for the 
 exercise of the heaven-born art. And both, to a certain 
 
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 475 
 
 degree, might be right : for it can hardly be denied that 
 there is a strange incongruous mixture of the namby-pamby 
 with the delightful, the ludicrous with the pathetic, and the 
 affected with the natural in Wordsworth — that his poet eye 
 never reached the sublime, or rolled in frenzy, but was 
 chastened into a pervading sobriety of vision, which never- 
 theless included a magic sphere, sweetly adorned with grace, 
 wisdom, and purity. 
 
 At all events, he aimed to be natural, and, in the convic- 
 tion that this was the true mission of the minstrel, defied or 
 perhaps despised ridicule ; and, whether abused or bepraised, 
 held on undauntedly the even tenor of his way. The appeal 
 was new, and consequently liable to great difference of 
 opinion. What else could he expect who offered a theory 
 for the regeneration of English poetry, and illustrated it by 
 compositions of his own 1 Indeed, nothing could be more 
 easy than to pick out, as taste or fancy dictated, passages 
 like indifferent " nursery tales," or verses breathing the pure 
 spirit of the immortal gift. It was a curious condition to 
 be held up as a Zany with the cap and bells, on one side, 
 and, on the other, to be elevated above the altar, and wor- 
 shipped as an exalted Genius ; but so it was. 
 
 A minute observation of Nature, and a studied simplicity 
 in applying language to the ideas suggested by her infinite 
 variety, made the fountain of Wordsworth's verse. In his 
 descriptions of the lowlier beauties he affected the tone of 
 Touchstone towards Audrey, "homely, but mine own;" and 
 never essayed to touch the strain (held to be complimentary 
 to a painter, and also to a poet), that, if his peasant was 
 spreading manure, "he scattered it with the air of a gentle- 
 man." And, when his theme rose into a higher sphere, it 
 was not by figurative imagination, or words that burn, that 
 he elaborated his design, but by the plainest possible prosaic 
 realization of the matter it was his object to impress. His 
 mirror reflected the naked truth, when unadorned adorned 
 the most, and never distorted nor exaggerated, but attended 
 
476 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 by all the congenial attractions with which genius only 
 knows how to illustrate the breathing world, and persuade 
 and delight mankind. 
 
 His profession of poetic faith, the key to nine-tenths of 
 his writing, may therefore be found in the short piece en- 
 titled " The Banks of the Wye," and serve as a text for all 
 who discourse upon his literary or personal character. It 
 runs thus : — 
 
 " This prayer I make, 
 Knowing that Nature never did betray 
 The heart that loved her : 'tis her privilege, 
 Through all the years of this our life, to lead 
 From joy to joy : for she can so inform 
 The mind that is within us, so impress 
 With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
 With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
 Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 
 Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 
 The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
 Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
 Our cheerful faith that all which we behold 
 Is full of blessings." 
 
 It is but a terser song to bid — 
 
 " Come forth into the light of things, 
 Let Nature be your teacher," 
 
 and amplify the same into the source of every virtue, 
 pleasure, and happiness. 
 
 In personal appearance Wordsworth was a noticeable 
 man ; one of the few whom, having once seen, you remember 
 as apart from the common herd. His life was mostly spent 
 in rural retirement, amid the romantic scenery of the Lake 
 district in Cumberland. I went once from Cheshire to visit 
 him at Kydal Mount ; I was not unexpected, nor denied 
 the favour of a first home-picture. On walking up the 
 beautiful greensward, on a fine summer afternoon, towards the 
 house, I at once saw the poet seated, almost in attitude, at 
 
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 477 
 
 an open window which descended to the ground, and with 
 a handsome folio poised upon his crossed knee, which he 
 seemed to be reading. Had those been the days of pho- 
 togi-aphs, the position would have been invaluable. He 
 speedily left it, however, and gave me a kindly welcome to 
 his very charming retreat, the apparent seat of " idlesse all," 
 and " lettered ease." 
 
 It was here that the child was father to the man, and the 
 man to the minstrel. From youth to age his devotedness 
 to the Ars Poetica was so intense that it must have been 
 pronounced most laborious, had it not been so calm, dreamy, 
 and philosophical as to forbid the suspicion of any indus- 
 trious application. It was not the fate of his authorship to 
 toil through the calamities of 
 
 " Labour and Care, and Pain and dismal Age, 
 Till Hope deserted," 
 
 and cast him a wreck upon the shoal of time; on the 
 contrary, his path lay through pleasant places. He had 
 enough for comfort, and a little more, when appointed dis- 
 tributor of stamps, and then laureate ; and, morning, noon, 
 and night, for years after years, he beguiled the hours in 
 the same congenial way. He wandered, and he pondered, 
 and he mused, and he indulged in the love of all the rural 
 scenery around him, and the objects it offered to the appre- 
 ciation of human sense ; and, when satiated with the endless 
 fancies ivpon outward things, he would retire within himself, 
 and pile up thought on thought in the revision of his 
 personal feelings throughout the long period of his con- 
 templative existence. The former were gleaned from 
 matters of fact — the latter were founded on experiences ; 
 and both were susceptible of ever-teeming fresh and novel 
 views, as the temperament or the varying disposition of the 
 passing moment might light them up for the scrutiny of the 
 watchful and observant mind. This dreaminess, with few 
 
478 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 exceptions, dissolved into softness in one who "walked far 
 from the world like a blissful creature," and " lived a whole 
 life in absorbing thought " — 
 
 " As if life's business were a summer's mood." 
 
 In the country he would walk with you, talk with you, 
 and seem gratified with your society ; but, somehow or 
 other, it seemed to me as if he were ready to relapse, become 
 wrapt up in speculation, and would rather prefer being left 
 to commune with himself. There must have been thousands 
 of hours of these communings. It was during them that 
 he had so much time to cultivate his elaborate simplicity, 
 and descend to the trite and trifling subjects which he 
 deemed consistent with that style, and believed he could 
 elevate to the spirit, if not to the dignity, of song. It was 
 this attempt which caused him to be accused of childishness, 
 and induced the production of a certain kind of doggerel 
 which no reputable periodical of the present day would 
 accept. 
 
 You cannot, says the proverb, make a silk purse of a sow's 
 ear, neither can you make a very small thing great. Even 
 poetry cannot enlarge it by description, though it may 
 possibly manage to elicit wonders from the materially in- 
 significant, just as one might carve wonderful sculptures 
 on a cherry-stone. Yet we are not convinced by the 
 apostrophe — 
 
 " Oh, gentle reader, you could find 
 A tale in every thing ; " 
 
 at least I am of opinion that "Wordsworth himself has failed 
 in endeavouring to accomplish this task ; and that in the 
 attempt he often damages the beauties which stand in jux- 
 taposition and alternate with these defects. Thus, his 
 " Daisy " is at least but a blossom of prettiness — most of 
 his reflections on similar pretty objects being incongruous, 
 
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 479 
 
 though some are charming. As a whole, how inferior to 
 the delicious lesson on the same suggestive flower by Burns ! 
 In " We are Seven," indeed, the pathos overcomes the quaint 
 familiarity of the style, and embodies the touching senti- 
 ment with irresistible effect ] but the " Pet Lamb " is more 
 artificial, and the " Leech Gatherer" rather contrasts than 
 assimilates with it, by diving below water-mark and dab- 
 bling in the mud ; fit enough for leeches, but which no 
 power of poetry could transmute into a golden sand for 
 admiration to flow on with Pactolus. 
 
 I could distinctly conceive Wordsworth and his choice 
 of subjects — his imaginings and manner of treatment, when 
 I witnessed the constant habits of his daily life. By day 
 and by night he fed his soul with sights and emotions and 
 analyses. He dwelt in no airy or fantastic world. He 
 raised the temjole of his fame on realities. The vicissitudes 
 of atmospheric phenomena — thunder and calm, light and 
 shade, drought and rain, heat and cold — the mountain peak, 
 the undulating hills, and the extended champaign — the 
 foaming torrent, the roaring cataract, the murmuring 
 streamlet, and the ample mere ; these, and truly Nature, 
 in her every aspect, engrossed the devotedness of his cease- 
 less contemplation and study. And when he sought his 
 themes from animate creation, it was the fate of his idiosyn- 
 crasy most readily to find, and most zealously to adopt, the 
 Goody Blakes and Peter Bells, et hoc genus omne, for whom 
 he had to adapt language suited to their stations, and yet 
 not be inconsistent with the tone of refinement and polish 
 which we seem to expect from the judicious muse. 
 
 How rarely he missed his aim or lost his way is mar- 
 vellous, and how lavishly he bespangled even his beggar's 
 rags with gems of unpriced value, so as to make them a 
 nation's wealth and boast, is proven by his acknowledged 
 triumph over all difficulties, and the high place he fills 
 among the immortals in Britain's glorious poetic fane. 
 
 On his visits to town, the recluse of Kydal Mount was 
 
480 
 
 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ; 
 
 quite a different creature. To me it was demonstrated, by 
 his conduct under every circumstance, that De Quincy, in 
 some fit of resentment or unopiated ill-humour, had done 
 him gross injustice in the character he loosely threw upon 
 the public, viz., that " he was not generous or self-denying, 
 but austere and unsocial, and would not burden himself 
 with a lady's parasol or any civility of trouble ; " and 
 farther, that he was " slovenly and regardless in dress." I 
 must protest that there was no warrant for this caricature ; 
 but, on the contrary, that it bore no feature of resemblance 
 to the slight degree of eccentricity discoverable in Cumber- 
 land, and was utterly contradicted by the life in London. 
 In the mixed society of the great Babylon, Mr. Wordsworth v' 
 was facile and courteous ; dressed like a gentleman, and with 
 his tall, commanding figure — no mean type of the superior 
 order, well trained by education and accustomed to good 
 manners — shall I reveal that he was often sportive, and 
 could even go the length of strong (whatever invidiousness 
 might say, not vulgar) expressions in the off-hand mirth of v 
 his observations and criticisms 1 
 
 I remember accompanying him one day to the Royal 
 Academy Exhibition, wherein Turner had indulged his most 
 defiant whim in colour by painting a Jessica looking out 
 of her father Shylock's window. It was certainly an out- 
 rageous slap -dash of crude reds and yellows, lake, vermilion, 
 gamboge, and ochre ; harmonious it might be, as the great 
 artist could blend it to be seen from a distance, but 
 assuredly a strange spectacle to be closely examined. Will 
 it be credited that, on looking at the unlovely Jessica, the 
 poet laureate, so chaste and delicate in all his own paintings, 
 should have rej:>eated a simile, probably heedlessly caught 
 from one of his low-lived studies, " She looks as if she had 
 supped off underdone pork, and been unable to digest it in 
 the morning." Oh ! fie, for a laureate ; but very unlike 
 De Quincy's austere, unsocial misanthrope. I also recollect, 
 among other minor traits, his enjoyment of the theatre 
 
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 481 
 
 when there were Kembles and others like them on the 
 stage, and when witnessing the vivid impersonation of a 
 Brutus in "Julius Caesar," or^ a Kent in "Lear," an 
 audience felt as Wordsworth wrote — 
 
 " We must be free or die, who speak the tongue 
 That Shakespeare spake." 
 
 Nor did he mislike the music of the opera ; though the 
 ballet afforded him matter for one of the most humorous 
 critiques that could be imagined. He also was much 
 solicited to write in the Annuals, but, with the exception 
 of a friendly intimacy with young /Reynolds (the son of the ^y e i 
 dramatist, and author of an extraordinary volume, entitled y - , 
 " Miserrimus "), did not incline to be bribed into that service. 
 Nor, indeed, was he a money-seeker ; for on his way to a 
 continental tour, after the incidents above related, he 
 declined the offer of a considerable sum from the editor of 
 the " Literary Gazette," which would have amply supplied 
 very liberal expenditure on six weeks' travel and more, on 
 the ground of an " idleness " of disposition, and that, being 
 obliged to keep a diary, would cramp his movements and 
 prevent his occupying his time as the spur of the moment 
 might suggest. The wish for this diary, be it remarked, 
 was inspired by the exhibition of the talent (so unlike the 
 poetic conception of the man) for original observation and 
 ludicrous description, which I have endeavoured to point 
 out as duplicate (or a second moiety) to the simple notions 
 and intellectual refinement of the Poet of the Lakes. I 
 dare affirm the world lost an instructive and amusing treat 
 by his refusal to journalize. 
 
 Yet prose writing was not his forte, and his want of perspi- 
 cuity has been judiciously ascribed to two causes — his admira- 
 tion of Milton's prose, and his habit of dictating instead of 
 writing. If he had been his own scribe, his eye would have 
 told him where to stop ; but in dictating, his own thoughts 
 were familiarly intelligible to himself, and he ran on, 
 
 2 i 
 
482 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 unconscious of either the length of the sentence or of the 
 difficulty an ordinary reader must necessarily meet in 
 unravelling all its involutions, and following its meaning to 
 the end. I have always found dictated composition to be 
 complicated and diffuse. But we have more to do with his 
 poetic career, to which I revert. 
 
 Born in 1770, during the last dozen years of the last 
 century, he composed a great deal, including the "Bor- 
 derers," a tragedy, " Peter Bell," and others of the watery 
 class, which, however, were not published till in long after- 
 years. But, from beginning to end, his devotedness to the 
 poetic art was manifested under an atmosphere so rich in 
 incense and rejoicing, that it could only be esteemed an 
 immeasurable pleasure, and hardly a labour, even of love ! 
 The quantity of his offerings at the shrine he worshipped 
 was astonishing. Nulla dies sine linea would be a very 
 defective estimate of his registry of meteoric appearances, 
 infinitely more minute and searching than ever Admiral 
 Fitzroy could boast- — his more intense regard of inn umerable 
 features of rural scenery than ever landscape-painting or 
 topography or land-surveying could embrace — his abundance 
 of characters, not so striking as those of Crabbe — his tales, 
 more picturesque than pointed — his placid thoughts, his 
 humane sentiments, his beautiful passages, and his epithets, 
 proclaiming the poet in simple words ; as of the stone 
 "fleeced with moss;" the man remembered thirty years 
 ago, who " was so old he seemed no older now ;" or the deep 
 calm of Westminster Bridge at sunrise, "glittering in the 
 smokeless air :" when 
 
 " The very houses seem asleep 
 And all that mighty heart is lying still." 
 
 The inculcation of charity and morality, which pervade 
 every page of Wordsworth, needs no comment or com- 
 mendation ; and I only allude to the latter virtue for the 
 sake of picking out a trifling contrast to the beauties of the 
 
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 483 
 
 "Waggoner," and the still more admirable and affecting strain 
 of the " Old Cumberland Beggar " (to my taste the most 
 perfect composition of the author), in the questionable tale 
 of " Harry Gill and Goody Blake." The Goody, it may be 
 remembered, is gripped by the farmer in the act of breaking 
 down his fences (and not for the first time) for sticks to 
 light her fire ; and in her terror she prays that he may 
 "nevermore be warm." And the curse falls upon him: 
 Ms " teeth they chatter, chatter still ;" which seemeth an 
 admission contrary to the holy commandment, "Thou shalt 
 not steal." The author appears to excuse the transgression, 
 and say, " Let them steal ;" seeing that Farmer Gill is 
 poetically punished for asserting his rights, and checking 
 her evil deeds. 
 
 But Wordsworth was an upright, benevolent, and 
 virtuous man, and justly enjoyed — 
 
 " That beat portion of a good man's life, 
 His little nameless, unremembered acts 
 Of kindness and of love." 
 
 His sympathies were of the right order, and few human 
 beings ever passed through so long a term of life, who 
 could say at the close they had given less offence or done 
 less injury to their fellow-creatures. There is in this 
 sketch no evil to live after him, nor can the good ever be 
 interred with the bones of the poet, who has left so lasting 
 a monument to show what he was, and preserve the exem- 
 plary memory thereof to generations yet unborn. 
 
484 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 On looking back on what I have written concerning the 
 Poet, William Wordsworth, it seems to me that I could 
 hardly supjolement it more characteristically, than by 
 transcribing the letter in which he declined the commission 
 to keep a diary on his continental tour. It touches on 
 other points, but is, I hope, worthy of preservation here as a 
 whole. 
 
 "Dear Sir, — 
 
 " Your letter of the 23rd August, I did not receive till 
 my arrival here, several weeks after it was written. My 
 stay in London was only of a few days, or I should have 
 been pleased to renew my acquaintance with you. 
 
 " I really cannot change my opinion as to the little 
 interest which would attach to such observations as my 
 ability or opportunity enabled me to make during my 
 ramble upon the Continent, or it would have given me 
 pleasure to meet your wishes. There is an obstacle in the 
 way of my ever producing anything of this kind, viz. 
 idleness, and yet another which is an affair of taste. 
 Periodical writing, in order to strike, must be ambitious ; 
 and this style is, I think, in the record of tours or travels, 
 intolerable ; or, at any rate, the worst that can be chosen. 
 My model would be Gray's Letters and Journal, if I could 
 muster courage to set seriously about anything of the 
 kind ; but I suspect Gray himself would be found flat in 
 these clays. 
 
 " I have named to Mr. Southey your communication 
 about Mr. Percival's death ; he received them and wrote 
 you a letter of thanks, which by some mishap or other 
 does not appear to have reached you. 
 
 "If you happen to meet Mr. Reynolds, pray tell him 
 
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 
 
 485 
 
 that I received his prospectuses (an ugly word), and did as 
 he wished with them. 
 
 fay 
 
 /*^ 
 
 c/^ 
 
 C>tyC^y 
 
 &C^£~^S~ ^L^> 
 
 ^/ 
 
 
 At his charming home Wordsworth appears to have 
 been most accurately foreshadowed by Burbadge — 
 
 " Give me the man who can enjoyment find 
 In brooks and streams, and every flower that grows ; 
 Who in a daisy can amusement see, 
 And gather wisdom from a floating straw ; 
 His soul a spring of pleasure might possess 
 Quite inexhaustible." 
 
 But confined within its own circle, and not quitting it for 
 the noblest study of mankind, nor for creativeness, nor 
 
486 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 imagination, nor sublimity : with the exception of an 
 occasional playfulness, the simplicities of nature were his 
 Muse's all, and the ideal had no place with the real in his 
 inspirations. But his own Aiitobiographical Poem, " The 
 Prelude, or Growth of a Poet's Mind," tells its own tale ; 
 and as my office, now, is not critical, I shall merely notice his 
 great attachment to, and admiration and love of Coleridge, 
 as a prominent feature in his conduct through the vicissi- 
 tudes of the life of the Ancient Mariner, so entirely 
 different in ideality and enthusiasm. 
 
( 487 ) 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 HOW gratified I should be if I could hope that not 
 " Historia " alone, but " Biographia " also, quogue 
 modo scripta delectat ; but since that claim, possibly, may 
 not be allowed, I must endeavour to avail myself of a better 
 plea. With regard to this volume, I can vouch for its per- 
 fect truthfulness, and have therefore only to crave indulgence 
 for its imperfections. Few men, as noticed in my Preface, 
 have lived through so long a period of such mixed and 
 busy life in the metropolis as I have done, and been 
 influenced by their peculiar pursuits to be equally ob- 
 servant and reflective. I have cast a retrospect upon 
 the panorama, and endeavoured to reanimate it with the 
 figures of some of the remarkable personages who gave 
 life and motion to the scene, whilst many have slipped from 
 memory and vanished, like Ombres Ghinoises, to be recalled 
 no more. For the rest, it is a weary journey to look back 
 upon; and at an age, years beyond fourscore, with flagging 
 brain and wavering hand, be reminded that my work must 
 be very nearly done. Would it were worthier ! but — 
 
 " Vixi, et quem dederat cursum fortuna, peregi." 
 
 Some of my anecdotes may, by the severe critic, be 
 thought too trivial to contribute effectually to the elucidation 
 of character ; but, besides being expedient to lighten the 
 more essential portion of my aim, I may shelter myself 
 from blame for their introduction behind the shield of a 
 very acute observer of human nature (especially among 
 the higher and distinguished circles), Horace Walpole. In 
 developing the idiosyncrasy of the unfortunate Earl of Essex, 
 he states that, ''having consulted a great variety of writers, 
 
488 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 he may give at least some anecdotes, though of a trifling 
 sort, which will appear in a stronger light than they have 
 hitherto done." Now, having derived my data from per- 
 sonal association, may not I fairly presume, even more than 
 Horace Walpole, on the inference that "such matters do 
 not rest in the great historical works on the shelves of what 
 Voltaire so happily calls La Bibliotheque du Monde.'' 
 Feathers serve to show whence the wind comes and whither 
 it blows ; and slight traces may not be without their value, 
 especially where it is attempted to catch and delineate the 
 natural traits of individual character : — unless we are 
 disposed, indeed, which I, on my assuredly certain facts, 
 could not be, to go the length of a dictum thus exjoressed to 
 me in a note from my lamented friend Ingoldsby, touching a 
 memoir of Sir Thomas Lawrence, five-and-thirty years ago : 
 " I begin to suspect that biography as well as history is 
 what an enlightened friend of mine pronounced Frankenstein 
 to be, viz. a pack of lies altogether ! " 
 
 There is yet another apology to make, which I would 
 offer with some diffidence, because I am well aware of the 
 smart reply, "If sensible of unfitness, why trouble the public ;'' 
 and as Ossian further declares "age to be dark and unlovely," 
 I can only urge that there are many interesting things which 
 must suffer when left to report and conjecture to determine, 
 and which the memory and experience of age alone can 
 reveal, verify, and satisfactorily discuss. Be this as it may, 
 as my offence can hardly be called rank, I hope my readers 
 will not think I have provoked a worse word than was 
 given to a "preceding candidate for his maladroit perform- 
 ance of what he flattered himself might be received as a 
 useful service. I trust the reader will not say to me, 
 "Adieu, Monsieur 1 Gil Bias; je vous souhaite toutes sortes 
 de prosperites avec un peu plus de gout !" 
 
 Desirous as I must be to merit similar good wishes, and 
 take my leave on pleasant terms, I am still so beset with saucy 
 doubts and fears about my own production, that I would fain 
 
AUTOGRAPHS. 489 
 
 bespeak the gentle handling which my shortcomings need. 
 I am conscious of many imperfections, and particularly of 
 certain explanatory repetitions, though brief, which have 
 sprung from the disconnected nature of publication in the 
 periodical press, and for which in the conception and execu- 
 tion of a whole design no valid excuse could be offered. 
 After all, poor evidence as it affords of the deserts of so 
 long a literary life, it may cheer on my successors in a like 
 career, by showing on how slender a foundation (not, how- 
 ever, without constant labour and some severe trials), one of 
 their number could attain the gratifying condition, which 
 these pages partially unfold, though left, alas ! at the close 
 in mournfulness to exclaim — 
 
 " Nobiles socios sortes mirse." 
 
 Nearly half a century passed in an enviable sphere, in 
 confiding communion with numbers of the eminent, and 
 some of the most illustrious, men of the time, was a con- 
 summation far beyond even the sanguine dreams of young 
 aspiring — and now much remains as of a vague, unsub- 
 stantial vision. My revelations ought to have been of a 
 higher order ; but there are things that cannot be told, and 
 I can only offer my contribution, in its unassuming form, to 
 the fund of general information. May it be accepted ! 
 
 AUTOGRAPHS. 
 
 It is very natural to wish to know all we can of re- 
 markable persons, and the autographs introduced into this 
 volume will, I hope, be approved of, as interesting memorials 
 (additional traits as it were) of my Men of the nineteenth 
 century, distinguished for great endowments, important 
 services, or transcendant genius. The extent to which 
 
490 MEN I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 autograph collecting is carried, is almost too enormous to be 
 credited ; and where they are rare, the value of specimens is 
 extraordinary. In one case, where my own correspondence 
 failed, I had much difficulty in procuring the coveted em- 
 bellishment of Richard Martin. As a final resource, I 
 addressed the Secretary of the Society for the Prevention of 
 Cruelty to Animals, and having no reply for a month, con- 
 cluded my sketch as at page 321. But I have great pleasure 
 in adding, together with the signature of this memorable 
 philanthropical phenomenon, that it has been communicated 
 to me in the most courteous manner, being the only one in 
 the archives of the Society ; and having been lent to a 
 photographer at the date of my letter, the answer was 
 postponed till the autograph was returned. 
 Witness the hand of — 
 
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