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NUMEROUS MTTHENTIC PORTRAITS.

VOLUME V.

THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGft,

QrLJlS&OW, EDiriBIJR&H il R D hORDOIZ

A

BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY

OF

EMINENT SCOTSMEN.

IN FOUR VOLUMES.

OKIGINALLT EDITED BY

ROBERT CHAMBERS.

NEW EDITION, REVISED UNDER THE CARE OF THE PUBLISHERS.

WITH A SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUME,

CONTINUING THE BIO.GRAPHIES TO THE PRESENT TIME.

By the Kev. THOS. THOMSON,

AUTHOR OK "the HISTOA? OF SCOTIJVND FOR THE USE OS SCHOOLS*' ETC ETC.

WITH NUMEROUS PORTRAITS.

DIVISION VIII.

WILSON — YOUNG.
A BERCROMBIE — HEPBURN.

BLACKIE AND SON:

GLASGOW, EDINBURGH, AND LONDON:

MD CCCLV.

THE I'^W YOBK
PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENOX AND

TILDEN FOUNDATIONS

R 1021 L

GLASGOW:

W. G. BLACKIE AND CO., PRINTEES,

VILLAFIELD.

OTMR 01' TKG LOKDS 01' SESSIOTT.

Ai'Kii' ,i. "riN miAfiiWTW, Kl/INBlTRffH.,&I.aNIiOM.

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ALEXANDER WILSON. 473

with his fowling piece in his hand, and only .1 few shillings in his pocket, with-
out a friend or letter of introduction, or any definite idea in what manner
he was to earn his future livelihood. He, neveilheless, set out cheerily on
foot towards Philadelphia — a distance of thirty-three miles — delighted with
everything he sav^ ; and it w.ns curious enough, that almost his very liist action
was shooting a red-headed woodpecker, as if indicative of the nature of his
future studies. It ought here to be remarked, that, previously to this time, Wil-
son had never manifested tiie slightest disposition to the study of ornithology.
On arriving at Philadelphia, an emigrant countryman, a copper-plate printer,
(from motives of charity, we presume,) employed him for some weeks at this
new profession ; but it is probable that both soon grew mutually tired of the
agreement. Wilson, at least, speedily relinquished the occupation, and betook
himself to his old trade of weaving, at which he persevered for about a twelve-
month. Having amassed some little savings, he resumed his old profession of
peddler, chiefly with the view of exploring the scenery and society of the
country, and traversed the greater part of the State of New Jersey, experiencing
considerable success with his pack. Upon his return, he finally abandoned the
professions of weaver and peddler, and betook himself to an occupation, which
of all others it might be su2)posed he was the least fitted by education and dis-
position to undertake, that of a schoolmaster. But it is evident that \Vilson
adopted this profession, as much as a means of self-improvement, as of a live-
lihood. His first school ^vas at I^rankford, in Pennsylvania : thence he re-
moved to jMilestown, where he continued for several years, assiduously culti-
vating many branches of learning, particularly mathematics and the modern
languages : thence to Bloomfield, New Jersey ; where he had scarcely settled
himself, when (in 1802) he Avns offered and accepted an engagement with the
trustees of a seminary in Kingsessing, on the river Schuylkill, about four miles
from Philadelphia ; and this was the last and most fortunate of all his migra-
tions. During all these eight years of shiftings and wanderings, Wilson's
career Avas almost one continued struggle with poverty, the principal part of
Iiis income being acquired by occasional employment in surveying land for the
farmers ; yet his mind did not, as is usual with most men, become soured or
selfish under the incessant pressure of difficulties. On the contrary, he con-
tiimed to Avrite home such flattering accounts of his adopted country, as to
induce his nephew, William Duncan, (whose father was then dead,) to follow
him across the Atlantic, with his mother and a large family of brothers and sisters.
Wilson was at this time at Blilestown; but when he heard of their arrival, he set
out on foot for New York, a distance of four hundred miles, for the sole pur-
pose of assisting in getting them comfortably settled. An American biographer
says, that, by the kindness of a Mr Sullivan, Wilson was enabled, in conjunc-
tion with his nephew, to purchase and stock a small farm, for tiie accommoda-
tion and support of his relatives ; after which he returned again on foot to the
ungracious labours of the school-room, accomplishing a journey of eight hundred
miles in twenty-eight days. To this family he continued ever afterwards to
pay the most unreniitting and benevolent attention ; keeping up a constant
correspondence with his nephew, advising and encouraging him amid his diffi-
culties, and even redoubling his own exertions, by keeping a night-school, and
other laborious expedients, that he might contribute to the support of the
family. " Be assured," he says, in one of his letters to his nephew, " that I
will ever as cheerfully contribute to your relief in difficulties, as I uill rejoice
ivith you in prosperity. But we have nothing to fear. One hundred bushels
of Avheat, to be sure, is no great marketing; but has it not been expended in
the support of a mother, and infant brothers and sisters, thrown upon your

TV. 3 0

474 ALEXANDER WILSON.

bounty in a foreign country ? Robert Burns, when the mice nibbled away his
corn, said

• I'll get a blessing ui' the lavo,
And never miss 't.'

Where he expected one, you may expect a thousand. Robin, by his own con-
fession, ploughed up his mice out of ' ha' and hanie.' You have built for your
Avanderers a cozie bield, where none dare molest them. There is more true
greatness in the affectionate exertions which you have made for their subsistence
and support, than the bloody catalogue of hei'oes can boast of. Your own
heart v,ill speak peace and satisfaction to you, to the last moment of your life,
for every anxiety you have felt on their account." Nor did Wilson forget the
ties of relationship that still united him to the land of his birth. To his father
he wrote fully and regularly ; and his letters, both to him and his brother
David, are no less x-eplete with sound sense, than ardent affection and excellent
moral feeling.

Wilson's removal to Kingsessing was the first lucky step towards the attain-
ment of that fame which hallows his memory. His salary was extremely in-
adequate to his labour, and almost to his subsistence ; but this situation
introduced him to the patronage of many kind and influential friends, and
afforded him opportunities of improving himself which he had never before en-
joyed. Amongst the former was William Bartram, the American Linneeus of
the period, in whose extensive gardens and well-stocked library Wilson found
new and delightful sources of instruction and enjoyment ; and Mr Law-
son, the engraver, who initiated him into the mysteries of drawing, colouring,
and etching, which afterwards proved of such incalculable use to him when
bringing out his Ornithology. About this time W^ilson tasked his powers to
their very utmost in the duties of his school and his efforts at self-improvement.
This severe exertion and confinement naturally preyed upon his health and de-
pressed his spirits ; but Messrs Bartram and Lawson, who seem to have known
little, personally, of the exhausting process of " o'er-informing tlie tenement
of clay," mistook the despondency and lassitude of body and mind thereby oc-
casioned in their friend, for the symptom of incipient madness. This
melancholy fact they attributed to his " being addicted to writing verses and
playing on the flute ;" and it would appear, that, in their efforts to wean him
from such perilous habits, they were at little pains to conceal their opinion even
from himself. While rambling in the woods one day Wilson narrowly escaped
destruction from his gun accidentally falling against his breast when cocked ;
and in his diary (which he uniformly kept), he blesses God for his escape, as,
had he perished, his two worthy friends would undoubtedly have loaded
his memory with the imputation of suicide. He complied, however, with their
request so far as to substitute drawing for poetry and music ; but he attained
not the sliglitest success until he attempted the delineation of birds. This de-
partment of the art, to use our old Scottish expression, " came as readily to his
hand as the bowl of a pint stoup," and he soon attained such perfection as
wholly to outstrip his instructors. His success in this new employment seems
to have first suggested the idea of his ornithological work, as we see from let-
ters to his friends in 1803, that he first mentions his purpose of " making a
collection of all our finest birds." Upon submitting his intentions to Messrs
Bartram and Lawson, these gentlemen readily admitted the excellence of his
plan, but started so many difficulties to its accomplishment, that, had Wilson
been a man of less nerve, or confidence in his own powers, he would have
abandoned the idea in despair. But he treated their remonstrances with

ALEXANDER WILSON. 475

indifference, or something more like scorn : he resolved to proceed at all risks
and hazards, and, for some time afterwards, busily employed himself in
collecting all the rarer specimens of birds in his own neighbourhood. In
October, 1 804, he set out, accompanied by his nephew Duncan, and another
individual, upon an expedition to the Falls of Niagara, which wondrous scene,
according to his own account, he gazed upon with an admiration almost
amounting to distraction. On their return, the three friends were overtaken
by the storms of winter. Wilson's companions successively gave in, and left
him at different parts of their route ; but he himself toiled on through the mud
and snow, encumbered with his gun and fowling bag, the latter of whicli was of
course always increasing in bulk, and arrived safely at home, after an absence
of fifty-nine days, dui'ing which he had walked nearly 1260 miles, 47 of which
Avere performed the last day. Instead of being daunted by the fatigues and
hardships of the journey, we find him writing an account of it to his friends
with something like exultation, and delightedly contemplating future expedi-
tions of the like nature ; and this when his whole stock of money amounted to
three-fourths of a dollar! For some time after his retui-n, he amused himself
with penning a poetical narrative of his journey, called " The Foresters," (af-
terwards published ;) a piece much superior to any of his former descriptive
poems, and containing many even sublime apostrophes. From this time
forward, Wilson applied his Avhole energies to his ornithological work,
drawing, etching, and colouring all the plates himself, for he had in vain
endeavoured to induce his cautious friend Mr Lawson, to take any share in
the undertaking. In the spring of 180G, a favourable opportunity seemed to
present itself for prosecuting his researches, by a public intimation being given
of the intention of president Jefferson to despatch parties of scientific men to
explore the district of Louisiana. At "Wilson's request, IMr Bartram, who was
intimate with the president, wrote to him, mentioning W^ilson's desire,
character, and acquirements, and strongly recommending his being employed
in the proposed survey. Wilson also wrote a respectful and urgent letter to
Jefferson, detailing the extensive plans of his ivork, and explaining all his pro-
ceedings and views. To these applications the president vouclisafed 7iot one
word in reply ; a circumstance which convinced Wilson more and more — nor
did he shrink from the conviction — that he must stand self-sustained in the exe-
cuting of his great national undertaking. But his intrinsic and sterling merits
soon procured him a patronage which to his independent mind v.as, perhaps,
infinitely more gratifying than the condescending favours of a great man.
He received a liberal offer from Mr Bradford, a bookseller of Philadelphia, to
act as assistant editor in bringing out a new edition of Eees's Cijclop(Bdia, and
he gladly relinquished the toilsome and ill-rewarded duties of a schoolmaster to
betake himself to his new employment. Soon after this engagement, he laid
before IMr Bradford the plan of his OrnitJiology, with the specimens of com-
position and delineation which he had already executed ; and that gentleman
was so satisfied of Wilson's ability to complete it, that he at once agreed to
run all the risk of publication. All obstacles to the fulfilment of his great de-
sign being now removed, Wilson applied himself night and day to his double
task of author and editor, occasionally making a pedestrian excursion into
various districts for the benefit at once of his health (which Avas beginning to
decay) and of his great work. At length, in 1808, the first volume of
the Ainerican Ornithology made its appearance, and, much as the public had
been taught to expect from the advertisements and prospectuses previously is-
sued, the work far exceeded in splendour anything that had ever been seea in
the country before. Innnediately on its publication, the author set out on an ex-

476 ALEXANDEU WILSON.

pedition through tlie eastern states, with the design of exhibiting his book and
solicitiii'> subscribers. It is not our purpose to trace his course in this journey,
wherein he encountered hardships, vexations, and disappointments innumera-
ble but insuflicient to check his ardour, Tiie extent of his journey may bo
ouessed at from the following extract from one of his letters when about to re-
turn : *' Havinn- now visited all the towns witiiin one hundred miles of

the Atlantic, from Maine to Georgia, and done as much for this bantling book
of mine as ever author did for any progeny of his brain, I now turn my wish-
ful eyes towards home." Upon the whole the result of his expedition
was unsuccessful, for although he received most flattering marks of respect
wherever he went, the sacrifice of 120 dollars (for the ten volumes) proved a
sad check upon the enthusiasm of his admirers. His letters to his friends, in
which a full account of every part of this, as well as his subsequent journeys is
given, are in the highest degree interesting. In 1810, the second volume was
published, and Wilson immediately set out for Pittsburg, on his way to New
Orleans for the same purpose as before. On reaching Pittsburg, he was puz-
zled to think by what means he should descend the Ohio ; but at last
determined, in spite of the remonstrances of his friends, to voyage it in a small
boat alone. He accordingly bought a batteau, which he named the Ornitlio-
lonist, put in a small stock of provisions and water, (he never carried spirils
with him,) with his never-failing fowling piece and ammunition, and pushed oil'
into the stream for a solitary voyage of between 500 and 600 miles. This was
exactly such a situation as was calculated to arouse all the romantic feelings of
Wilson's soul : the true lover of nature experiences a delight approaching to
ecstasy when alone in tlie uninhabited desert. But the whole tract of his
journey was rich witli the objects most attractive to the lonely voyager ; he
collected an immense stock of ornithological riches for his future volumes, and
amused his mind at his hours of repose with the composition of a descriptive
poem entitled " The Pilgrim." He reached New Oi-leans on the Glh of June,
and arrived at Philadelphia on the 2nd of August, having been travelling since
the beginning of January ; during which time his whole expenses did not
amount to 500 dollars. This was the most extensive of all Wilson's excursions,
and allliouoh he took several others to various districts, as the volumes of the
Crnitholooy successively appeared, we do not think it necessary here to advert
to them pai-ticularly. Writing to his brother David, a year or two afterwards,
in reference to these exertions to further the sale of his works, he says :
*' By the first opportunity I will transmit a trifle to our old father, whose
existence, so far from being forgotten, is as dear to me as my own. But
David, an ambition of being distinguished in the literary world, has re-
quired sacrifices and exertions from me with which you are unacquainted ;
and a wish to reach the glorious rock of independence, that I might from
thence assist my relations, who are struggling witli and buffeting the billows of
adversity has engaged me in an undertaking more laborious and extensive than
you are aware of, and has occupied every moment of my time for several years.
Since February ISIO, I have slept for several weeks in the wilderness alone,
in an Indian country, with my gun and my pistols in my bosom ; and have
found myself so reduced by sickness as to be scarcely able to stand, \\\\&n not
within 300 miles of a white settlement, and under the burning latitude of 25
deorees. I liave, by resolution, surmounted all these and other obstacles, in
my way to my object, and now begin to see the blue sky of independence open
around nic."

Wilson's reputation, indeed, and the merits of his great undertaking, had
now forced themselves into notice, not only in A.-nerica, but throughout

ALEXANDER WILSON. 477

all Europe, and one of his biographers says, that there was not a crowned head
in the latter quarter of the ghibe but had then become a subscriber to the
American OrnitJioIogy. Honours as well as profit began to pour in upon
liim. In 1812, he was elected a member of the American Philosophical
Society, and subsequently of other learned bodies. In 1813, the literary
materials for the eightli volume of the Ornithology were ready at the same
time that the seventh was published. But its progress was greatly retarded for
want of proper assistants to colour the plates, those whom he could procure
aiming rather at a caricature than a copy of nature. He was at last obliged
to undertake the whole of this department himself in addition to his
other duties, and these multifarious labours, by drawing largely upon his hours
of rest, began rapidly to exhaust his constitution. When his friends re-
monstrated with him upon the danger of his severe application, he answered,
" Life is short, and without exertion nothing can be performed." A fatal
dysentery at last seized him, whicli, after a few days' illness, carried him cfT,
upon the 23rd of August, 1813, being then only in his forty-eighth year. Ac-
cording to the autliority of an American gentleman who was intimate Avith
him, his death was accelerated by an incident in singular keeping with
tlie scientific enthusiasm of his life. While sitting in the house of one of his
friends, he happened to see a bird of a rare species, and which he had been long
seeking for in vain, fly past the window. He immediately rushed out of the
house, pursued the bird across a river, over which he was compelled to
swim, shot and returned with the bird, but caught an accession of cold which
carried him ofi^". He was buried next day in the cemetery of the Swedish church
in the district of Southwark, Philadelphia, with all the honours which the in-
habitants could bestow on his remains. The clergy and all the public bodies
walked in procession, and wore crape on their arms for thirty days. A simple
marble monument was placed over him, stating shortly the place and
year of his birth, the period of his emigration to America, and the day and
cause of his death.

The wliole plates for the remainder of the Ornithology having been com-
pleted under Wilson's own eye, the letter-press of the ninth volume wr.s
supplied by his friend Mr George Ord, who had been his companion in several
of his expeditions, as also a memoir of the deceased naturalist. There have
been few instances, indeed, where the glowing fire of genius was combined
with so much strong and healthy judgment, warmth of social affection, and cor-
rect and pure moral feeling, as in the case of Alexander Wilson. The bene-
volence and kindness of his heart sparkle through all his writings, and it is
cheering to th.e true Christian to observe, that his religious principles became
purified and strengthened in proportion to the depth of his researches into the
organization of nature. He is said to have been strikingly handsome in per-
son, although rather slim than robust, with a countenance beaming with intelli-
gence, and an eye full of animation and fire. His career furnislies a
remarkable example of the success which, sooner or later, is the re\\ard of
perseverance. It is (rue he did not attain riches, but upon the possession of these
his happiness was not placed. He wished, to use his own words, " to raise some
beacon to show that such a man had lived," and few have so completely achieved
the object of their ambition. Wilson's father survived him three year.^.

Three supplementary volumes of the Ornithology, containing delineations of
American birds not described by Wilson, have been published by Cliarles Lueieu
Bonaparte. In 1832, an edition of the American Ornithology, with illustrative
notes, and a Life of Wilson, by Sir William Jardine, was published in London, in
three volume?.

478 FLORENCE WILSON.— JOHN WINRAM.

WILSON, Florence, an author of some note, was born on the banks of the
Lossie, near Elgin, about the year 1500. He is commonly known by his Latin-
ized name of Florentius Volusenus, which has been usually translated "Wilson,
though it is doubted whether his name was not Wolsey, Willison, Williamson, or
Voluzene. He studied at Aberdeen, and afterwards repaired to England, where
cardinal Wolsey appointed him preceptor to his nephew. Accompanied by the
latter he went to Paris, where, after the death of Wolsey and the consequent
loss of liis pupil, he found another patron in cardinal du Bellai, archbishop of
Paris. Along with this prelate he intended to visit Rome, but was prevented
by illness, and was left behind at Avignon. Here he recommended himself by
his scholarship to cardinal Sadolet, who procured for him the appointment of
teacher of Latin and Greek in the public school of Carpentras. He is best
known by his dialogue "Do Animi Tranquillitate," which was published at Lyons
in 1543, and reprinted at Edinburgh in 1571, 1707, and 1751. Wilson died at
Vienue, in Dauphiny, in 1547, when retui'ning to his native land. Several other
works have been ascribed to him besides the well known dialogue, but the works
themselves are not extant. His death was celebrated by Buchanan in the
following epigram:—

"Hie Musis, Volusene, jaces cr.rissime, ripam
Ad Rhodani, terra quam procul a patria!
Hoc meruit virtus tua, tellus quaj foret altrix
Virtutum, ut cineres conderet ilia tuos."

WINRAM, John, superintendent of Fife and Stratherne, was descended of
the Fifeshire family of the Winrams of Ratho. He is supposed to have
entered the university of St Andrews (St Leonard's college) in 1513, and in
1515 he took the degree of B. A., on which occasion he is designated a
pauper ; that is, one who paid the lowest rate of fees. From that period till
1532, no trace has been discovered of him, but at the last mentioned date he
is noticed under the title of " Canonicum ac baccalarium in Theologia " as one
of the rector's assessors, and in a deed dated the same year he is called a canon
regular of the monastery of St Andrews. Two years afterwards he is men-
tioned as third prior, and in 1536, as subprior, in which situation he continued
till the Reformation.

The first occasion on which we have found iMr John Winram making a pub-
lic appearance was the trial of George Wishart, the martyr. On that occasion
he was appointed to open the proceedings by a sermon, and he accordingly
preached on the parable of the wheat and tares : he mentioned that the word
of God is " the only and undoubted foundation of trying heresy without any
superadded traditions," but held that heretics should be put down, — a position
strangely inconsistent with the command to let the tares and wheat grow to-
gether till harvest. About the same period, archbishop Hamilton ordered the
subprior to call a convention of Black and Grey friars for the discussion of
certain articles of heretical doctrine. At this meeting, John Knox demanded
from Winram a public acknowledgment of his opinion, whether these heretical
articles were consistent or inconsistent with God's word ; but this the wary subprior
avoided. " I came not here as a judge," he replied, " but familiarly to talk,
and therefore I will neither allow nor disallow, but if ye list, I will reason ;"
and accordingly he did reason, till Knox drove him from all his positions, and
he then laid the burden upon Arbuckle, one of the friars. Winram attended
the provincial councils of the Scottish clerg^', held in 1549 and 1559, and, on
the first of these occasions at least, took an active pai't in the proceedings.
Thus, up to the very period of the establishment of the Reformation, he

JOHN WINRAM. 479

continued to act a decided part with the catholic clergy. " There have been,
and are," says Wodrow, " some of God's children, and hidden ones, in
Babylon, * * * * and no doubt Mr Winram \vas useful even in this period."
May it not be asked, whether he did not, by a bad example, and a pertinacious
adherence to a system which he knew to be erroneous, greatly more wealcen
the hands of his brethren, than he could possibly strengthen them by his
private exertions ?

Winram, as prior of Portnioak, attended the parliament of August, 1560,
which ratified the protestant Confession of Faith. The first General Assembly
held in December following, declared him fit for and apt to minister the word
and sacraments; and on Sunday, April 13, 1561, he was elected superinten-
dent of Fife, Fotlu-ick, and Stratherne, "be the common consent of lordis,
baronis, rainisteris, elderis, of the saidis bowndis, and otheris common pepill,''
&c. The transactions in which he was engaged in this capacity px-esent so lit-
tle variety that we shall merely take a short general view of them.

One of Winram's earliest acts as superintendent was the reversal of a sen-
tence of condemnation Avhich had been passed on Sir John Borth wick, in 1540,
for heresy. This gentleman had saved himself by flight, but appears to have
returned to Scotland in or before 1560, for, at the fix-st General Assembly, we
find one of the members " presented by Sir John Borth wick to the kirks
of Aberdour and Torrie." It is sufficiently singular that Winram was
one of " those plain enemies to the ti-uth " described in the reversal of the sen-
tence, who had assisted at the trial and condemnation of the man whom
he even then must have considered as a friend, although he had not the coui'age
or the honesty to avow it. The notices of Winram in the records of the
General Assembly consist, almost without exception, of complaints against him
for negligence in visiting the district or diocese committed to his charge.'
This is a chax-ge which was brought mox-e or less frequently against all
the superintendents : the people on the one hand seem to have been un-
reasonable in their expectations, and the government, beyond all question, gave
the clergy but little encouragement by a liberal or even xnoderate provision for
their wants. In AVinram's case, however, the frequency of these complaints
leaves oxx the mind a suspicion that he was to a considei'able extent in fault,
and, on one occasion at least, the complaint was accompanied with a charge of
a covetous, worldly-minded disposition, — a charge which circumstances we
shall mention in our general remarks on his character lead us to conclude
were not unfounded. He was several times exnployed in reconciling party and
private disputes. In 1571, he was ordered by the General Assembly to
inhibit Mr John Douglas, who was appointed archbishop of St Andrews, to vote
in parliament in name of the church. In January, 1572, he attended the con-
vention at Leith, at which Tulchan bisliops were authorized, and in the following
month he was employed as superintendent of the bounds to inaugurate the arch-
bishop of St Andrews. There are no subsequent notices of him of tha
slightest interest or importance. He died on the ISth or 2Sth of September,
1582, (the date seeixxs uncertain,) leaving by his will Jaixxes Winraxn and John
Winraixx of Craigton, sons of Mr Robert Wixxram of Ratho his brother,
his principal heirs.

The chax-acter of Winranx is by no means free from suspicion. He was an
eax'ly convert to the protestant doctrines, but he neither abandoned his situatioxx
nor emoluments in the catholic chux-ch ; he did not, like almost all his bx'other
superintendents, expose himself to danger or to suffering by a public px'ofes-

1 These charges were brought forward in December, 1562 ; December, 15G4 ; Decem-
ber, 1565; December, 1567 j July, 1569; July. 1570; March, 1572.

480 GEORGE WISHART.

8!on of his sentiments, and \Yhen Knox, at the meeting of the Black and Grey
friars, demanded wiiether he conscientiously considered tlie doctrines then
called heretical contrary to God's word, lie not only evaded the question, but
argued on the popish side ; he assisted at the trials of at least two of the
reformers, of whom one suffered, and the other only saved himself by flight.
It may perhaps be said that Winram expected to be thus able to advance the
reformation more effectually than by an open abandonment or opposition of the
popish church, but this is an argument which would in any case be liable to
strong suspicion, and which in Winram's is rendered everytliing but inadmis-
sible by the other facts which are known respecting him. Tiie truth seems to
ba, and candour requires that it should be stated, that he generally displayed
a covetous, interested disposition. On this account he was sometimes treated
with no great respect, even by persons of inferior rank: one person, indeed,
was charged in 15G 1 , before tlie kirk session of St Andrews, with saying that he
was a " fals, dissaitful, greedy, and dissemblit smaik, for he wes ane oftliam that
?naist oppressed, smored, and held doun the word [kirk?] of God, and now he is
cum into it and professes the same for grediness of geir, hirkand and watchand
quhill lie 7nay se ane other tymP Nor does he seem to have possessed in any
considerable degree the confidence cf his clerical brethren. It has been
remarked that, in the records of the proceedings of the first General Assembly,
his name appears but seventeenth on the list of persons considered fit to
minister, and is placed after those of men greatly his juniors. This is a cir-
cumstance \vhich mere accident may have occasioned, and is not of itselt'
entitled to much consideration ; but of one fact there can be no doubt, that in
tlie whole course of thirty-six Assemblies, which, according to Wodrow, he at-
tended, lie was never appointed moderator, nor intrusted even with a share in
the management of their more important transactions.

Winram married Margaret Stewart, widow of ... . Ayton of Kin-
naldy, but she predeceased him without having any family except by her first
husband. Many passages in the books of the commissariot of St Andrews show
that the superintendent and his wife's sons were on indifferent terms, and leave
one not without suspicion that he made some attempt to deprive them of their
just rights or property. In the remarks which we have made on this and other
parts of his conduct we liave been actuated by no other motive but a desire to
draw a fair and impartial conclusion from the facts which time has spared to
us. At the same time, we are sensible, and we mention it in justice to the
memory of Winram and many others, that, did the history of the period admit
a fuller investigation, considerations might arise which would probably place
many transactions in a different point of view.~ The only work known
to have been written by Winram is a catechism, which has long disappeared,
and of which not even a description is now known to e:ast.

WISHART, George, a distinguished protestant martyr, was probably the
son of James Wisbart, of Pitarro, justice-clerk to James V. He is supposed
to have studied at Montrose, wliere he himself gave instructions for some time
in the Greek language ; a circumstance which, considering the state of Greek
learning in Scotland at the time reflects distinguished honour on his literary
character. But tliere were men in power by Avhom it was reckoned heresy to
give instructions in the original language of the New Testament. Owing
to the persecution he received from the bishop of Brechin and cardinal
Beaton, he left the country in 153S. His history during the three following
years is little known. It appears that, having preached at Bristol against the
worship and mediation of the Virgin, he was condemned for that alleged
- Abridged from Wodrow 's Biographical Collections, piinted by the IMailland Club, i.

GEORGE WISH ART. 481

heresy, recanted Iiis opinions, and burnt his fagot in the church of St Nicholas
in that city. Probably he afterwards travelled on the continent. In 1543,
he was at Cambridge, as we learn from the following description quoted
by the biographer of Knox,' from a letter of Emery Tylney. "About the yeare
of our Lord a thousand, five hundreth, forty and three, there was, in the uni-
versity of Cambridge, one Maister George Wishart, commonly called Maister
George of Bennet's colledge, who was a tall man, polde headed, and on
the same a round French cap of the best. Judged of melancholye complexion
by his physiognomie, black haired, long bearded, comely of personage, well
spoken after his country of Scotland, courteous, lowly, lonely, glad to teach,
desirous to learne, and was well travailed. Having on him for his habit or
clothing never but a mantill frieze gowne to the shoes, a black milliard fustian
dublet, and plain black hosen, coarse new canvasse for his shirtes, and white
falling bandes and cuffes at the hands. All the which apparell he gave to the
poore, some weekly, some monthly, some quarterly, as he liked ; saving his
i^Vench cappe, which he kept the whole year of my being with him. He was
a man, modest, temperate, fearing God, hating covetousnesse ; for his charitie
had never ende, night, noone, nor daye. He forbare one nieale, one day in
four for tiie most part, except something to comfort nature. Hee lay hard upon
a pouffe of straw, coarse new canvasse sheetes, which, when he changed, he gave
away. He had commonly by his bedside a tubbe of water, in the which (his
people being in bed, the candle put out, and all quiet) hee used to bathe him-
self. He taught with great modestie and gravitie, so tliat some of his people
thought him sevei-e, and would have slaine him ; but the Lord was his defence.
And hee, after due correction for their malice, by good exhortation, amended
them, and he went his way. O that the Lord had left him to me his poorc
boy, that he might have finished that he had begunne! His learning, no less
sufiicient than his desire, always prest and readie to do good in that he
was able, both in the house privately, and in the school publikely, profusing
and reading diverse authors."

Wishart returned to Scotland in July, 1543, in company Avith the commis-
sioners who had been despatched for the negotiation of the marriage treaty with
Henry VHI.'- From these individuals, many of whom were attached to the re-
formed doctrines, he had probably received assurances of safety for his person :
it is at least certain that, from the time of his entering the country till
his death, he was under their protection, and usually in the presence of one or
more of them. The chief laymen of the protestant party at this period were
the earls Cassillis, Glencairn, and Blarischal, Sir George Douglas, and the
lairds of Brunstain, Ormiston, and Calder. They were in secret alliance Avith
the king of England, and, at his instigation, several of them formed designs for
assassinating cardinal Beaton, whose powerful genius was the chief obstacle to
their views.

Thus countenanced, Wishart preached to large audiences in Montrose and
Dundee, causing, at the latter of these places, the destruction of the houses of
the Black and Grey friars. The authorities having interfered to preserve the
peace, Wishart left the town, but not till he had given a public testimony to
the friendly nature of his intentions, and the danger that would be incurred by
those who refused to hear the truth which he proclaimed. He then proceeded

1 Dr M'Ciie, Life of Knox.

2 Knox, in his Historie of the Reformation, says 1544 •, but it is salisfaclorily proved that
the commissioners returned in IS^S: and hence, as it is more likely that a mistake would
arise in the date than in Uie circumstance, wc assume the latter year, as a correction upon
Ivnox's statement.

482 GEORGE WISHART.

to the ^Yest of Scotland, and for some time preached successfully. But in tho
town of Ayr, lie found the church preoccupied by the bishop of Glasgow ; in
consequence of which he proceeded to the market-cross, " where," snys Knox,
*' he made so notable a sermon, that the very enemies themselves were con-
founded." He also preached frequently at Galston and Bar. At Mauchline
he was prevented from officiating, by the sheriff of Ayr " causing to man
the chui-ch, for preservation of a tabernacle that was there beautiful to the eye."
Wishart, refusing to yield to the solicitations of some who urged him to enter
forcibly, exclaimed, " Christ Jesus is as mighty upon the fields as in the
church ; and I find that he himself, after he preached in the desert, at the
sea-side, and other places judged profane then, he did so in the temple of
Jerusalem. It is the word of peace that God sends by me — tlie blood of no
man shall be shed this day for the preaching of it." Thereafter he preached
in the neighbourhood, so as to produce a wonderful reformation on a gentle-
man of abandoned character. But while engaged in this part of Scotland, he
heard that the plague was raging in Dundee. The devoted preacher hastened
thither. In the midst of the disease and misery of the people, he preached so
ns to be heard both within and without the town, many of the sick being be-
yond the gate, on these appropriate words, "He sent his sword and healed
them ;" adding, " It is neither herb nor plaster, O Lord, but thy word healeth
all." This discourse produced a very general and powerful impression. He
continued to preach and visit the sick with singular benevolence ; and, besides
the infection of the disease, to which he was constantly exposed, he was, on one
occasion, liable to danger from a priest, who had been commissioned to assassinate
Iiim. The people, on discovering the dagger which he held in his hand at the
conclusion of one of Wishart's sermons, were inflamed with passion, but
the latter embraced him, with these friendly words, " whosoever troubles him
shall trouble me, for he hath hurt me in nothing ; but he hath done great com-
fort to you and me, to wit, he hath let us to understand Mhat we may fear : in
times to come we will watch better." The truth appears to be, that Beaton, being
fully apprized of the designs of Wishart's friends against his own life, had thought
proper to form similar designs against that of a preacher who was perpetually in
the company, and in all probability in the confidence of his own enemies, and
whose eloquence was threatening his church with destruction. Whether this
Avas the case or not, there can be no doubt that the cardinal now made all pos-
sible efforts to apprehend Wishart. The preacher, therefore, never moved in
any dii'ection without a tried adherent, who bore a two-handed sword before
him ; nor did he ever preach except under a strong guard of friendly
barons and their retainers. Knox at one time officiated in the character of
sword-bearer to his friend.

From Dundee he returned to Montrose, where he spent some time, occupied
partly in preaching, " but most part in secret meditation." At Dundee,
which he now revisited, he uttered a memorable prediction of future glory to
the reformed church in Scotland. " This realm," said he, " shall be illuminated
with the light of Christ's gospel as clearly as ever any realm since tlie days of
the apostles. The house of God shall be builded in it ; yet it shall not lack,
Avhatsoever the enemy may imagine in the contrary, the very kepstone." For
this and other anticipations of the future, Wishart received the credit of
a prophet among his followers ; nor have writers been wanting in tlie present
age to maintain that he really possessed this ideal accompHshment. It is im-
possible, however, for a reasonable mind to see anything in tlie above predic-
tion, beside the sanguine expectations of a pai-tisan respecting his own favourite
objects. As for the rest of Wishart's predictions, wliich generally consisted in

GEORGE WISHAllT. 483

the announcement of coming vengeance, Mr Tytler, who enjoyed the advantage
of a closer inspection of the secret history of the period, than any preceding
writer, presents the following theory,^ to Avluch we can see little chance of any
valid objection being started : — " He enjoyed, it is to be remembered, the con-
fidential intimacy, nay, we have reason to believe that his councils influenced
the conduct, of Cassillis, Glencairn, Crunstain, and the party which Avere now
the advisers of Henry's intended hostilities ; a circumstance which will
sufficiently account for the obscure warnings of the preacher, without endowing
him with inspiration." It is to be remarked that in calling upon the people
to embrace the reformed doctrines, and threatening them witli temporal
destruction if they refused, he was speculating only upon the natural course of
events : he must have known that to continue attached to the ancient faith,
which Avas equivalent to a resistance against the English match, Avas sure to
bring the vengeance of Henry upon the country, A\hile an opposite conduct
Avas calculated to avert his wrath.

While at Dundee, Wishart received a message from the earl of Cassillis and
the gentlemen of Kyle and Cunningham, requesting him to meet them in
Edinburgh, Avhere they intended to make interest that he should have a public
disputation Avith the bishops. On arriving at Leith, he did not, as expected,
immediately find his friends, so that, " beginning to Avax sorrowful in spirit,"
from the inactive life to Avhich he Avas submitting, he preached in Leith, from
Avhich, as the governor and cardinal Avere expected in Edinburgh, he Avent to
the country, residing successively in Brunstain, Longniddry, and Ormiston, the
proprietors of Avhich, as Avell as many other gentlemen of Lothian, Avere zealous
in the cause of reformation. At this time he preached, Avith much efl'ect in Li-
veresk and Tranent, and, during the holidays of Christmas, 1545, he proceeded
to Haddington. Here he preached several sermons. Before delivering
the last of them, he received information that the conference to Avhich he had
been invited in Edinburgh could not be fulfilled. This greatly distressed him,
and the smallness of his audience on tlie present occasion added to his depres-
sion. Having, for more than half an hour walked about in front of the high
altar, he proceeded to the pulpit, A\here his sermon commenced Avith the fol-
loAving Avords : " O Lord, how long shall it be that thy holy Avord shall
be despised, and men shall not regard their own sahation ? I have heard
of thee, Haddington, that in tliee Avould have been, at any vain clerk play,
two or three thousand people ; and noAV to hear the messenger of the Eternal
God, of all the town or parish, cannot be numbered one hundred persons.
Sore and fearful shall the plagues be that shall ensue upon this thy contempt;
Avith fire and sword shalt thou be plagued." He then proceeded to particularize
the kind of troubles Avhich should fall on Haddington, and Avhich actually did
befall it shortly afterwards. Parting Avitli several of his friends, and even Avith
John Knox, to Avhom, on his Avishing to accompany him, he said, " Nay, re-
turn to your children, and God bless you ; one is sufficient for one sacrifice,"
he Avent, Avith the proprietor, to Ormiston. At niglit, the earl of Bothwell
came to the house, and, intimating the approach of the governor and the
cardinal, advised Oi-miston to deliver Wishart to him, promising that he should
be safe. Wishart Avas Avilling to accede to these terms. " Open the gates,"
said he, " the blessed Avill of my God be done." Bothwell's promises Avere re-
newed, and his attendants joined him in his protestations. But they proceeded
Avith Wishart to Elphinston, Avhere Beaton Avas ; and the preacher, having
been sent to the capital, and thence brought back to Hailes, lord BothAvell's
seat, Avas at last committed to Avard in the castle of Edinburgh. He Avas soon
^ History of Scotland, v. 414.

484 GEORGE "WISHART, or WISEHEART.

after sent to St Andrews, by the cardinal, who, assisted by Dunbar, archbishop
of Glasgow, prepared for the trial of the reformer.

On the 1st of March, 1545-6, the dignitaries of the church assembled at S<
Andrews, Avhen Beaton, being refused the presence of a civil judge by the
governor, determined to proceed on his own authority. The alleged heretic,
being arraigned on a series of charges, defended himself meekly but firmly,
and with a profound knowledge of scripture. The result, as Mas to be expected,
was his condemnation to the stake. On the 2Sth, he was led from the prison,
with a rope about his neck, and a large chain round his middle, to the place
of execution, in front of the castle, which was the archi-episcopal palace of the
cardinal. " Here a scaffold had been raised,* with a high stake firmly fixed in
the midst of it. Around it were piled bundles of dry faggots ; beside them
stood an iron grate containing the fire ; and near it the solitary figure of the
executioner. Nor did it escape the observation of the dense and melancholy
crowd which had assembled, that the cannon of the fortress were brought to
bear directly on the platform, whilst the gunners stood with their matches be-
side them ; a jealous precaution, suggested perhaps by the atten;pt of Duncan
to deliver the martyr Hamilton, and which rendered all idea of rescue in this
case perfectly hopeless. On arriving at tlie place, Wishart beheld tliese h.orrid
preparations, which brought before liim the agony he was to sufi'er, with an un-
moved countenance ; mounted the scaffold firmly, and addressed a short speech
to the people, in Avhich lie exhorted them not to be oflbnded at the word of
God, by the sight of the torments which it seemed to liave brought upon its
preacher, but to love it, and to suffer patiently for it any persecution which the
sin of unbelieving men might suggest. He declared that he freely forgave all
his enemies, not excepting the judges who liad unjustly condemned him."
Having signified his forgiveness to the executioner, he was tied to the stnke,
and the flame began to encompass tiie holy martyr. " It torments my body,"
said he to his friend, the captain of the castle, " but no way abates my spirit;"
then, looking up to a window, from which the cardinal was contemplating tlie
scene, he said, " He who, in such state, from that high place, feedeth his eyes
with my torments, within a few days shall be hanged out at the same window,
to be seen with as much ignominy, as he now leaneth there in pride." On
this, the executioner drew a cord which had been fastened round the neck of
the sufferer, who shortly afterwards expired amidst the flames. The prediction
of the dying martyr was literally fulfilled v/itliiii three months after, by the vio-
lent and ignominious death of his persecutor. The admirable biographer of Knox
and Melville has recorded this just and comprehensive eulogium on the character
of the martyr: — "Excelling," says Dr M'Crie, "the rest of his countrymen at that
period in learning; of the most persuasive eloquence; irreproachable in life,
courteous and affable in manners; his fervent piety, zeal, and courage in tho
cause of truth, were tempered with uucommou meekness, modesty, patience, pru-
dence, and charity.*'

WISHART, or WISEHEART, George, a learned divine, and admired
writer of the seventeenth century, was of the family of Logy in Forfarshire.
He is said to have been born in East Lothian in 1009, and to have studied at
the university of Edinburgh. Treviously to the breaking out of tlie religious
troubles in the reign of Charles 1. he ivas one of the ministers of St Andrews.'
Being prepossessed, like the most of the men of family connected with the east
coast of Scotland, in favour of episcopacy, he refused to take the covenant, and

■1 We here quote the aiiimnled dcseription of Mr Tjlicr,

' Keith in his Catalogue of tlie Scottish Bishops, sajs North Leitli; but il;is npptiiis to
be a mistaiiP.

GEORGE WISHART, or WISEHEAllT. 485

Avas accordingly deposed by the Assembly of 1539, in company with his
collengue Dr Gladstanes, the celebrated Samuel Rutherford and Mv Robert
Blair coming in their places. Having been subsequently detected in a corre-
spondence with the royalists, Wisliart was plundered of all his worldly goods,
and thrown into a dungeon called the Thieves' Hole, said to have been
the most nauseous part of one of the most nauseous prisons in the world,
the old tolbooth of Edinburgh. Wishart himself tells us that, for his attach-
ment to royalty and episcopacy, he thrice suffered spoliation, imprisonment,
and exile, before the year 1G47. In October, 1644, he was taken by
the Scottish army at the surrender of Newcastle, in which town he had officiated
professionally. On this occasion, he suffered what appears to have been his
third captivity. In January, 1G45, he is found petitioning the estates from
the tolbooth, for maintenance to himself, his wife, and five children, who
otherwise, he says, must starve :- the petition Avas remitted to the Committee of
Monies, Mith what result does not appear. A few months afterwards, when
Montrose had swept away the whole military force of tlie covenanters, and was
approaching the capital in triumph, Wishart Mas one of a deputation of cavalier
prisoners, whom the terrified citizens sent to him to implore his clemency.
He seems to have remained with the marquis as his chaplain, during the
remainder of the campaign, and to have afterwards accompanied him abroad in
the same capacity. This connexion suggested to him the composition of an ac-
count of the extraordinary adventures of Monti'ose, which was published in the
original Latin at Paris in 1G47. His chief object in this work, as he informs us
in a modest preface, was to vindicate his patron from the aspersions which had
been thrown upon him by his enemies ; to clear him from the charges of cruelty
and irreligion, which had been bi'ought against him by the covenanters, and
show him as the real hero which he was. Whatever might be the reputation of
Montrose in Scotland, this work is said to liave given it a very enviable
character on the continent. " To the memoir," says the publisher of the English
translation of 1756, " may be in a great measure ascribed that regard and
notice which was had of Montrose, not only in France, where the proscribed
queen then held her thin-attended court, and where it was first published, but
likewise in Germany, and most of the northern courts of Europe, which he soon
after visited. That peculiar elegance of expi-ession, and animated description,
with which it abounds, soon attracted the regard of the world, and in a few
years carried it tlu-ough several impressions both in France and Holland."

Proportioned to the estimation in which the work was held by the perse-
cuting party, was the detestation with which it was regarded by the Scottish
covenanters. Those daring and brilliant exploits which formed the subject
of its panegyric could never be contemplated by the sufferers in any other light
than as inhuman massacres of the Lord's people; and he whom cardinal de
Retz likened to the heroes of Plutarch, was spoken of in his own country in
no other terms than as " that bloody and excommunicate traitor." An appro-
priate opportunity of showing their abhorrence of the book was presented within
a very few years after its publication, when Montrose, having ftxllen into their
hands, was ordered to be executed with all possible marks of odium and
degradation. Over the gay dress he assumed on that occasion, they hung from
his neck the obnoxious volume, together with the declaration ho had published
on commencing his last and fatal expedition ; the one hanging at the right
shoulder, and the other at the left, while a cincture, crossing the back and
breast, kept them at their proper places. As this ceremonial was made matter for
a parliamentary decree, there can he little doubt that tho Scottish presbyterians
2 Balfour's Annals, iii. 2C1.

48G GEORGE WISIIART, or WISEHEART.

conceived it to be a not unbecoming mode of expressing contempt for tlie
eulogies of the biographer. Upon Montrose, however, it produced no such ef-
fect as they had calculated on. His remark, long since become a part of h's-
tory, is thus given by Wishart in the sequel to his memoir : " That though it
had pleased his majesty to create him a knight of the garter, yet he did
not reckon himself more honoured thereby than by the cord and the books
which were now hung about his neck, and which he embraced with greater joy
and pleasure than he did the golden chain and the garter itself when he first
received them."

While his Avork was receiving this memorable honour, the author remained
at the Hague, where a body of commissioners from Scotland were endeavouring
to induce the young and exiled king (Charles H.,) to assume the government
of that kingdom upon the terms of the covenant. To these personages,
Wishart, as miglit be supposed, was by no means an agreeable object, particu-
larly as he happened to enjoy the royal favoui-. Clarendon, «ho was there at
the time, relates the following anecdote : — " A learned and worthy Scotch
divine, Dr Wishart, being appointed to preach before the king, they [the. com-
missioners] formally besought the king, ' that he would not suffer him to preach
before him, nor to come into his presence, because he stood excommunicated
by the kirk of Scotland for having refused to take the covenant,' though it Avas
known that the true cause of the displeasure they had against that divine, was,
that they knew he was author of that excellent relation of the lord fllontrose's
actions in Scotland, which made those of his majesty's council full of indigna-
tion at their insolence ; and his majesty himself declared his being offended,
by hearing the doctor preach with the more attention."

Dr Wishart subsequently wrote a continuation of the memoij-s of Montrose,
bringing down his history till his death : this, hoAvever, Avas never published iu
its original form. The original book Avas printed oftener than once, and in
various places, on the continent. A coarse translation appeared in London in
1652, under the title of " Montrose Redivivus," &rc., and Avas reprinted in 1720,
AA'ith a translation of the second part, then for the first time given to the
Avorld. A superior translation of the Avhole, Avith a strong Jacobite preface,
Avas published at Edinburgh by the Ruddimans in 1756, and once more, in the
same place, by Ai'chibald Constable and Company in 1819.

After the fall of Blontrose, Dr Wishart became chaplain to Elizabeth, the
eleotress-palatine, sister of Charles I.; he accompanied that princess to England
in 1660, and being recognized as one who had both done and suffered much
in the cause of royalty, Avas selected as one of the neAV bishops for the kingdom
cf Scotland, being appointed to the see of Edinburgh. He Lad noAV, therefore,
tho satisfaction of returning to the scene of his former sufferings, in the mo-t
enviable character of Avhich his profession rendered him capable. He AA'as con-
secrated bishop of Edinburgh, June, 1, 1662. It is recorded of Wishart, that,
after the suppression of the ill concerted rising at Pentlaud, he interested him-
self to obtain mercy for the captive insurgents ; and, remembering his oavu dis-
tresses iu the prison Avhich they noAV occupied, never sat down to a meal till he
had sent off the first dish to these unfortunate men. From these anecdotes it
may be inferred that whatever were the faults of his character, he possessed
a humane disposition. Bishop Wishart died in 1071, when his remains were
interred in the abbey chui'ch of Holyrood, where a handsome monument, bearing
an elaborate panegyrical inscription in Latin to his memory, may yet be seen.

Bishop Keith says of Wishart that he was "a person of great religion."
Wodrow speaks of him as a man who could not refr?iin from profane swearing,
even on the public street, and as a knoAvn drunkard. " He published someAvhafc

in divinity," says the historian, " but then I find it remarked by a very good
hand, his lascivious poems, compared with which the most luscious parts of
Ovid de Arte Amandi are modest, gave scandal to all the world." It is not
unlikely that Dr Wishart had contracted some rather loose habits among the
cavaliers with whom he associated abroad ; for both Burnet and Kirkton bear
testimony to the licentious manners by which the royalists were too often
characterised, more especially during the reckless administration of the earl
ef Middleton.

V/ITHERSPOON, John, D. D,, LL. O., an eminent divine and theological
writer, was horn, February 5, 1723, in the parish of Yestei*. His father, who
was minister of that parish, was a man of singular worth, and of much moie
than ordinary abilities. Young Witherspoon received the earlier part of his
education at the public school of Haddington, where he distinguished himself
by his diligence, and by the rapid proficiency he made in classical attainments.
He Avas, also, even at this early period of his life, remarkable for that sound-
ness of judgment, and readiness of conception, which aided so much in procur-
ing him the favour he afterwards enjoyed. On completing the usual initiatory
learning observed at the school of Haddington, he was i-emoved to the university
of Edinburgh, where he continued to attend the various classes necessary to
qualify him for the saci*ed profession for which he was intended, until he had
attained his twenty-first year, when he was licensed to preach the gospel. He
was soon after this invited to become assistant and successor to his father ; but
held this appointment for a very short time only, having received a presentation,
in 1744, from the earl of Eglinton, to the parish of Beith, of which he was
ordained minister, uith the unanimous consent of the people, in the following
year.

An incident in the life of BIr Witherspoon, too curious to be passed over,
occurred soon after this. On learning that a battle was likely to take place at
Fallcirk, between the Highlanders and royal troops, during the rebellion of
1745-6, the minister of Beith hastened to the anticipated scene of conflict, to
witness the combat. This he saw; but in a general s«eep which the victorious
rebels made around the skirts of the field after the battle, Mr Witherspoon,
with several others, whom a similar curiosity had brought to the neighbourhood
of the field, was made a prisoner, and thrown into the castle of Doune, where
he Avas confined, until he effected his escape, which he did with considerable
difficulty, and not without great peril.

Mr Witherspoon first assumed the character of an author in 1753, by bring-
ing out an anonymous publication, entitled " Ecclesiastical Characteristics, or
the Arcana of Church Policy." This work, which discovers a rich vein of
delicate satire, was directed against certain flaws in the principles and practice
of some of the ministers of the church of Scotland of the period. It excited a
great sensation, and became so popular as to reach a fifth edition, in less than
ten years after its publication. This successful debut was followed soon after
by another able performance, entitled a " Serious Apology" for the Charac-
teristics, in which Dr Witherspoon acknowledged the authorship of the latter.
Three years afterwards, in 1756, he published, at Glasgow, his admirable essay
on the " Connexion between the Doctrine of Justification by the imputed
righteousness of Christ, and holiness of life."

The diligence, industry, and regular habits of Dr Witherspoon, enabled him
to reconcile the character of a prolific author, with that of an attentive and
faithful pastor; and while discharging the duties of the latter with an exem-
plary fidelity, he continued to instruct and enlighten the public mind by his
literary labours. His industry enabled him to give to the world, in the year

■183 JOHN WITIIERSPOON, D.D., LL.D.

following that in which his essay on the Connexion, appeared, liis
still more celebrated work, entitled " A serious Inquiry into the Nature and
Effects of the Stage." On this subject, there is much difference of opinion ;
but there can be none regarding tlie ability which Ur Witherspoon's work
evinces. The reputation which he had now acquired as a zealous minister and
profound theologian, procured him one of those spontaneous calls, which so
strikingly mark tlie public sense of a clergyman's usefulness and merits. In
the year 1757, he was soli(;ited by the people of Paisley to accept the pastoral
charge of the Low Church of that town. Here, as at Beith, he diligently
prosecuted his literary labours, and still continued to associate them with
a faithful discharge of liis pastoral duties. During a portion of the time of
nis ministry in Paisley, he employed himself in preparing sermons for the
press; several of wliich were published in 1758 and 1759, and were received
with marked approbation. His next publication, unfortunately, though written
with the best intentions, and well calculated to attain the ends proposed by its
author, involved him in dilhculties, which pressed hard upon him for several
years afteruards. The publication alluded to was a discourse, entitled a " Sea-
sonable Advice to Young Persons," published in 1763. The subject of this
discourse was suggested, at the particular moment it appeared, by an account
A\ liich had reached Dr Witherspoon, of a riotous and extremely disorderly meet-
ing which had taken place in Paisley, on the night before the celebration of
the Lord's Supper. To this discourse, the author had prefixed a prefatory
address, in which he incautiously set forth, at full length, the names of the per-
sons said to have been concerned in the indecorous meeting alluded to; and tiie
consequence of this unguarded proceeding, on the part of Dr Witherspoon, was
an action of damages, in which, being unable to adduce suflicient proof of the
accuracy of his information, he was defeated, and involved in serious expenses.
In 17G4, he received a degree from one of the Scottish universities,
and in the same year went to London, to superintend the publication of his
" Essays on Important Subjects," in three volumes. 'Uiis work, with the ex-
ception of his admirable treatise on Regeneration, which was included in these
volumes, was merely a reprint, in a collected form, of the detached essays which
lie had, from time to time, published in Scotland. Tlieir republication, however,
had the effect of greatly extending Dr Witherspoon's fame as an able theolo-
gian, and useful minister : and its appearance was soon after followed by three
different calls to as many diff^erent new charges. The first of tliese was from a
large congregation in Dublin ; the second, to the Scottish church at Rotter-
dam; and the third, from the town of Dundee. Dr Witherspoon's attachments
in Paisley, however, were too numerous, and too strong, to permit of his ac-
cepting of either of these invitations. But one of a more remarkable descrip-
tion, soon after prevailed with him to leave not only Paisley, but his country-
This was an invitation from the trustees of the college of Princeton, New
Jersey, in America, to become president of that institution. He, at first, de-
clined this appointment, but, on a second application being made to him,
thought fit to comply. A sufficient proof that this compliance did not proceed
from interested motives, is found in the circumstance of his having been pro-
mised, by a gentleman, a relation of his own, who possessed considerable pro-
perty, that he should be made liis heir, if he would remain at home. This
promise weighed nothing, however, witli Dr Witherspoon, when put in opposi-
tion to the sense of duty which called him to an extensive, and peculiarly
interesting field for ministerial exertion. Having come to the resolution of
crossing the Atlantic, he preached a farewell sermon to his affectionate people
in Paisley, on the I6th of April, 17G8. This sermon was immediately after

JOHN 'WITHERSPOON, D.D., LL.D. 4S9

published, under the title of " Ministerial Fidelity, in declaring tne whole
Counsel of God." Before leaving his native shores, he also published, at Glas-
gow, " Discourses on Practical Subjects ;" and, at Edinburgh, " Fi'actical
Discx)urses on the Leading Truths of the Gospel."

Dr Witherspoon now prepared for his departure idr Anierira, and at length
sailed for that country in the month of July, 17G8, ajid arrived there in safety
with his family, in tiie following month. Immediately after his arrival, he
entered upon his new appointment, and began to discharge the important duties
with wliich it was associated. The reputation of Dr Witherspoon had gone
before him ; and the result to the college, over which he presided, was a great
and rapid increase of its prosperity. Previously to his arrival, the institution,
whicli was chiefly supported by private liberality, was in a very indifferent
situation with regard to finances; these, however, were quickly placed in a
flourishing condition by the spirit of liberality, which the new president's
abilities and zeal excited. Nor were either these, or the value of his services,
overrated. The latter were singularly important and beneficial, not only to
the college over Avhich he presided, but to the general interests of education
througliout America. At Princeton, he effected a total revolution in the system
of instruction practised there previously to his arrival. He greatly extended
the study of mathematical science, and introduced importanc improvements
into the course of instruction in natural philosophy. In a few years aftei'-
vrards, his career of usefulness was not only interrupted, but, for a time, alto-
gether terminated, by the occurrence of the American war of independence. In
this struggle, he took a decided part in favour of the insurgents; and on the 17lh
May, 1776, preached a sermon at Princeton, on the occasion of a general fast,
appointed by the Congress, in whicli he expressed his sentiments fully on the
subject of tlie great political questions, then agitated between the mother coun-
try and tiie revolted colonies. This discourse was afterwards published, under
the title of " The Dominion of Providence over the Passions of Men." Dr
Witherspoon's conduct, on this occasion, greatly displeased his friends at home;
and an edition of the sermon above alluded to, was published at Glasgow, with
severe and abusive notes and remarks, by its editor, in some of which the
author was stigmatized as a rebel, and a traitor to his country. In America,
however, it produced a very different feeling towards Dr Witherspoon; and the
nature of this feeling is sufficiently evinced, by the circumstance of his having
been, soon after, elected by the citizens of New Jersey as their delegate to
the convention, in which the republican constitution was formed. In this
capacity he acquired, by the versatility of his talents, and the soundness of his
judgment, a political reputation, not inferior to that which he enjoyed as a man
of letters. In the early part of this year, 1776, he was sent, as a representa-
tive of the people of New Jersey, to the Congress of the United States, and
continued for seven years an active and zealous member of that body. He was
consulted on all momentous occasions ; and it is known that he was the writer
of many of the most important state papers of the period.

On the final settlement of the question of American independence, in the
early part of the year 17 83, Dr Witherspoon resumed his college duties; and
two years after^vards, paid a short visit to his native country. The object of
this visit was to obtain benefactions for the college over which he presided, and
which had nearly been exterminated by the war ; but party feeling still ran
too high in the mother country, to allow of such a mission being very successful :
and altliough the doctor made every exertion in London, and in several other
parts of the kingdom, to excite an interest in, and sympathy with his views, the
result, on tlie whole, was by no means favourable. After a short stay in Paisley,

490 ROBERT WODROW,

during wiiich he preached repeatedly in tJie Low and Middle churches, he took
a final farewell of his friends, and returned to' America, where he continued for
several years more to maintain, and even increase, the reputation he had already
acquired. 1 he infirmities of age, however, began at length to steal upon hiu).
Two years previous to his death, he was totally deprived of sight ; yet such was
the activity of his mind, and the greatness of his anxiety to be useful, that, even
under this grievous affliction, he did not desist either from the exercise of
his ministry, or from his duties in the college, although he had on all occasions
to be led to the pulpit and rostrum. This affecting condition was but of short
duration. He was released from it, and from all other afflictions, on the 1 5th
of November, 1794, in the seventy-third year of his age.

Dr Witherspoon's merits as an author, preacher, and philosopher, have been
the theme of much and frequent eulogium by men, themselves eminent for the
attainments they so much admired in him ; and we cannot conclude this brief
memoir better, than by quoting the language of one of those eulogists alluded
to. " Of Dr Witherspoon's character as an aulhoi-," says Dr Rogers, senior
nsinister of the United Presbyterian churches in the city of New York, " it is
not necessary to say much. His writings are before the public ; and to every
serious and intelligent reader, they discover an uncommon knowledge of human
nature, and a deep and intimate acquaintance with the holy scriptures. They
generally strike us, as being at once elegant and convincing, grave and attrac-
tive, profound and plain, energetic and simple. They evidently show that the
author's learning was very extensive; that God had given him a great and
understanding mind, a quick apprehension, and a solid judgment. And, as a
preacher, he was, in many respects, one of the best models on which a young
orator could form himself."

WODROW, RosERT, the faithful and laborious author of the " History of the
Sufferings of the Church of Scotland," was born in Glasgow, in the year 1679.
He was the second son of Mr James Wodrow, professor of divinity in the col-
lege of that city, a man of singular piety and learning. His mother, IMargaret
Hair, was the daughter of William Hair, the proprietor of a small estate in the
parish of Kilbarchan, Renfrewshire. In this parent, he was equally fortunate
as in the other. To all the piety of her husband, she added a degree of
strength of mind, not often associated with her sex.

In 1691, young W^odrow was entered a student in the university of his native
city, and went through the usual course of academical education then adopted
there, and which included several of the learned languages, and various branches
of philosophy. Theology he studied under his father, and, while engaged in
this pursuit, was appointed librarian to the college ; a situation to which the
peculiar talent which he already displayed for historical and bibliographical in-
quiry, had recommended him. This office he held for four years ; and it was
during this time that he acquired the greater part of that knowledge of the
ecclesiastical and literary history of his country, which he applied, during the
course of his after life, to such good purpose, as to have the effect of associating
his name, at once honourably and indissolubly, with those interesting subjects.
At this period he imbibed, also, a taste for antiquarian research, and the study
of natural history, which introduced him to the notice, and procured him the
friendship, of several of the most eminent men of the day. But all these pur-
suits were carefully kept subordinate to wliat he had determined to make the
great and sole business of his life, the study of theology, and the practical ap-
plication of its principles. To the former, he devoted only his leisure hours;
to the latter, all the others that were not appropriated to necessary repose.
On completing his theological studies at the university, BIr Wodrow went to

EGBERT WODROW.

491

reside with a distant relation of tlie family, Sii- John Maxwell, of Nether Pol-
lock ; and, ^yhile here, offered himself for trials to the presbytery of Paisley,
by whom he was licensed to preach the gospel, in March, 1703. On the 2Sth
of October following, he Mas ordained minister of the parish of Eastwood, near
Glasgow, through the influence of the family with which he resided. East-
wood was, at that period, one of the smallest parishes in Scotland ; but it was
just such a one as suited Mr Wodrow : for its clerical duties being comparatively
light, be was enabled to devote a portion of his time to his favourite studies in
history and antiquities, without neglecting the obligations which his sacred
office imposed upon him ; and of this circumstance he appreciated the value so
highly, that he could never be induced, though frequently invited, to accept
any other charge. Glasgow, in 1712, made the attempt, in vain, to withdraw
him from his obscure, but beloved retreat, and to secure bis pastoral services for
the city ; and Stirling, in 1717, and again in 1726, made similar attempts, but
with similar success. The sacrifices which he made, however, by rejecting
these overtures, were amply compensated by the affectionate attachment of his
little flock, who rejoiced in his ministry, and were made happy by the amia-
bleness of his manners, and the kindliness of his disposition. Although the
charge in which he was placed was an obscure one, Mr Wodrow's talents soon
made it sufficiently conspicuous. The eloquence of his sermons, the energy
and felicity of the language in which they were composed, and the solemn and
impressive manner in which they were delivered, quickly spread his fame as a
preacher, and placed him at the head of his brethren in the west of Scotland.

The popularity and reputation of Mr Wodrow, naturally procured for him a
prominent place in the ecclesiastical courts which he attended ; and in this at-
tendance, whether on presbyteries, synods, or the General Assembly, he Avns
remarkable for his punctuality. Of the latter, he was frequently chosen a
member ; and on occasions of public interest, was often still more intimately
associated with the proceedings of the church, by being nominated to commit-
tees. In all these instances he took a lively interest in the matters under dis-
cussion, and was in the habit of keeping regular notes of all that passed ; a
practice which enabled him to leave a mass of manuscript records behind him,
containing, with other curious matter, the most authentic and interesting de-
tails of the proceedings of the Scottish ecclesiastical courts of his time, now in
existence.

In 1707, Mr Wodrow was appointed a member of a committee of presby-
tery to consult with the brethren of the commission in Edinburgh as to the
best means of averting the evils with which it was supposed the Union would
visit the church and people of Scotland ; and, on the accession of George I., he
was the principal adviser of the five clergymen deputed by the Assembly
to proceed to London to plead the rights of the former, and to solicit
the abolition of the law of patronage, of which he was a decided enemy. In
this the deputation did not succeed. The law was continued in foi'ce, and flir
Wodrow, Avith that sense of propriety Avhich pervaded all his sentiments and ac-
tions, inculcated a submission to its decisions. He did not deem it becoming
the character of a Christian minister to be in any way accessary to acts of in-
subordination or of resistance to the laws of his country by irregular and un-
constitutional means. The same feeling of propriety induced him to continue
on friendly terms with those clergymen whose consciences permitted them to
take the abjuration oath, although he, in his own case, resisted its imposition.
But so far from taking offence at those who did, he exerted all his influence to
reconcile the people to them, and to induce them to believe that compliance was
no proof of apostasy.

493 IIOBEIIT WODROW.

Mr Wodrow's life presents us ^vith little more of particular interest than
what is contained in the circumstances just narrated, until it becomes associated
with tiiat work which has made his name so memorable, namely, '• The History
of the Sufterings of the Church of Scotland from the Restoration to the Revolu-
tion," This work, for which his integrity, cnndoui-, liberality of sentiment, and
talents, eminently qualified him, he contemplated from an early period of his
life; but it was only in the year 1707, that he began seriously to labour on it.
From this time, however, till its publication in 1721 and 1722, a period of
between fourteen and fifteen years, he devoted all his leisure hours to its com-
position.

On the appearance of Mr Wodrow's History, which was published in three
large folio volumes at separate times, in the years above named, its author was
attacked by those whom his fidelity as an historian had ofiended, with the vilest
scurrility and abuse. Anonymous and thi'eatening letters were sent to him, and
every description of indignity was attempted to be thrown on both his person and
his Avork. The faithful, liberal, and impartial character of the history, never-
theless, procured its author many and powerful friends. Its merits were, by a
large party, appreciated and acknowledged, and every man whose love of truth
was stronger than his prejudices, awarded it the meed of his applause. Copies
of the work were presented byUr Fraser to their majesties, and the prince and
princess of Wales, and were received so graciously, and so much approved of,
that the presentation was almost immediately followed by a royal order on the
Scottish exchequer for one hundred guineas to be paid to the author, as a
testimony of his mnjesty's favourable opinion of his merits. The warrant for
tiie payment of this sum is dated the 2Gth April, 1725. In 1830, a second
edition of tlie History was published, in 4 volumes 8vo, by Messrs Blackie and
Fullnrton of Glasgow, under tlie editorial care of the Rev. Dr Burns of
Paisley, now of Toronto, Canada.

Mr Wodrow's literary labours did not end wilh the publication of his His-
tory, He afterwnrds planned and executed the scheme of a complete history
of the church of Scotland, in a series of lives of all the eminent men who
appeared from the beginning of the Reformation down to the period at which
his preceding work commenced. This valuable production, which contains an
accurate and comprehensive view of some of the most important and interesting
events in the history of the kingdom, has never yet been entirely published.
It lies still in manuscript in the library of the university of Glasgow.

Besides these Avorks, JMr Wodrow has left behind him six small but closely
written volumes of traditionary and other memoranda regarding the lives and
labours of remarkable ministers, and comprising all the occurrences of the
period which he thought worth recording. These volumes are designated
by the general name of Analecta, and the entries extend over a space of
twenty-seven years, viz., from 1705 to 1733. The Analecta contains much
curious information regarding the times of its author, and is full of anecdote,
and amusing and interesting notices of the remarkable persons of the day. It
is preserved in the original manuscript in the Advocates' library at Edinburgh,
where it is often consulted by the curious inquirer into the times to wliich it re-
lates ; so often indeed, that the greater part of it has found its way to the pub-
lic, though in a disguised and unacknowledged shape, through the medium of
various publications in which its matter has been wrought up with other
materials.

A large portion of i\Ir Wodrow's time, all of which was laboriously and use-
fully employed in the discharge of his various duties, was occupied in an ex-
tensive epistolary correspondence Avitii acquaintances and friends in difterent

ROBERT WODROW. 493

parts of the world, but this was no idle correspondence. Ke made it in all
cnses subservient to the purposes of improving his general knowledge, and of
adding to his stores of information ; and with this view he was in the habit of
transmitting to his correspondents lists of queries, on subjects of general and
public interest, and particularly on matters connected witii religion, as they
stood in their several localities. With all this labour, he regularly devoted two
days in every week to his preparation for the pulpit, and bestowed besides the
most assiduous attention on all the other duties of his parish.

In the case of professor Simpson of Glasgow, the successor of Mr \Vodrow's
father, who was suspended from his office by the General Assembly for his
Arian sentiments, Mr Wodrow felt himself called upon as a minister of the
gospel, and a friend to evangelical truth, to take an active part with his
brethren against the professor. The latter, as already said, was suspended, but
through a feeling of compassion the emoluments of his office were reserved to
him ; a kindness for wliich, it is not improbable, he may have been indebted,
at least in some measure, to the benevolent and amiable disposition of the sub-
ject of this memoir. Soon after this occurrence IMr Wodrow took occasion,
when preaching on the days of tlie 10th and 11th June, 17:37, in the Baronj
church of Glasgow, to illustrate the divinity of the Saviour in opposition to the
sentiments of the Arians and Socinians. These sermons had the efiect of
rousing the religious zeal of one of the former sect, a Sir V/illiam Paul, a
student of theology, to such a pitch as to induce him, on the day following, to
challenge Mr Wodrow to a public or private disputation or to a written contro-
versy. This challenge, however, the latter did not think it prudent to
accept.

In the affair of the celebrated Marrow Controversy, which opened the vfn-y
to the Secession in 1733, Mr Wodrow decided and acted with his usual pru-
dence, propriety, and liberality. lie thought that those who approved of the
sentiments and doctrines contained in the work from which the coutroversy took
its name, viz., the " Marrow of Modern Divinity," Avent too far in their at-
tempts to vindicate them, and that the Assembly, on the other hand, had been
too active and too forward in their condemnation. On the gi'eat question about
subscription to articles of faith, he took a more decided part, and ever looked
upon the nonsubscribers as enemies to the cause of evangelical Christianity.

On this subject ho corresponded largely with various intelligent and some
eminent men in different parts of the three kingdoms, especially in Ireland,
from Avhom he collected a mass of opinion and information regardmg pres-
bytcrianism in that country, which for interest and importriucc cannot bo
equalled.

The valuable and laborious life of the author of the History of the Sufferings
of the Church of Scotland, was now, however, drawing to a close. His con-
stitution had been naturally good, and during the earlier part of his life he had
enjoyed uninterrupted health; but the severity of his studious habits at length
began to bear him down. He was first seriously affected in 1726, and from this
period continued gradually to decline till 1734, an interval of pain and suffering
of no less than eight years, when he expired, on the 21st March, in the 55th year
of his age ; dying, as he had lived, in the faith of the gospel, and love to all
mankind. His remains were interred in the church-yard of Eiistwood, where his
memory has lately been commemorated by the erection of a monument.

Mr Wodrow was married in the end of the year 1708, to Margaret Warner,
grand -daughter of William Guthrie of Fenwick, author of the "Trial of a
Saving Interest in Christ," and daughter of the reverend Patrick Warner of
Ardcer, Ayrshire, and niinister of Irvine. He left at his death four sons, and

494 ANDREW WYNTOWN.

five daughters. The eldest of the former succeeded his father in the parish of
Eastwood, but was compelled to retire from it by an infirm state of health.

WYNTOWN, Andrew, or Andrew of Wyntown, the venerable rhyming
chronicler of Scotland, lived towards the end of the fourteenth century; but
the dates of his birth and death are unknown. He was a canon regular of the
priory of St Andrews, the most flourishing and important religious establish-
ment in the kingdom; and in or before the year 1395, he was elected prior
of St Serf's inch, in Lochleven.' Of this he liirnself gives an account in his
" Cronykil."

Of my defaulte it is my name
Be baptisme, Andrew of Wyn(o\'mo,
Of Sanct Andrews, a chanoiuie
Regulare : but, noucht forth!
Of thaim al the lest worth}-.
Bot of thair grace and thair favoure
I wes, but^ meryt, made prioure
Of the ynch within Lochlevyne,

Innes mentions ** several authentic acts or public instruments of Wyntown,
as prior, from 1395 till 1413, in ' Extracts from the Register of the Priory of
St Andrews,' " which points out part of the period of his priorship ; and as the
death of Robert, duke of Albany, is noticed in the " Cronykil," Wyntown must
have survived till beyond 1420, the year in wliich the duke died. Supposing, as
is probable, that he brought down his narrative of events to the latest period of
his life, we may conjecture his death to have occurred not long after the above
dale.

It was at the request of " Schyr Jhone of the Wemys," ancestor of the earls
of Wemyss,^ that Wyntown undertook his Chronicle ;* which, although the first
historical record of Scotland in our own language, was sufl^ered to lie ne-
glected for several centuries. In 1795, Mr David Macpherson laid before tlie
public an admirable edition of that part of it, which more particularly relates to
Scotland, accompanied with a series of valuable annotations. Like most other
old chroniclers, Wyntown, in his history, goes as far back as the creation, and
takes a general view of the world, before entering upon the proper business of
his undertaking. He treats of angels, of the generations of Cain and Seth, of
the primeval race of giants, of the confusion of tongues, of the situation of
India, Egypt, Africa, and Europe, and of other equally recondite subjects, be-
fore he adventures upon the history of Scotland ; so that five of the nine books
into which his Chronicle is divided, are taken up with matter, Avhich, however
edifying and instructive at the time, is of no service to the modern historical
inquirer. Mr Macpherson, therefore, in Iiis edition, has suppressed all the ex-
traneous and foreign appendages, only preserving the metrical contents of the
chapters, by which the reader may know the nature of what is withheld ; and
taking care that nothing which relates to the British islands, whether true or
fabulous, is overlooked. It is not likely that any future editor of Wyntown
will adopt a different plan ; so that those parts which Mr Olacpherson has

' St Serf is the name of a small island in that beautiful loch, not far from the island which
contains the castle of Loclileven, celebrated as the prison-house of tlie queen of Scots.

* But, without.

» A 30unger son of this family settled in the Venetian territories, about ICCO; and a coj>y
cf W3 ntown's work is in the possession of his descendants.

* Book i. Proloffue, 1. 5^.

ANDREW WYNTOWN. 495

omitted, may be considered as having commenced the undisturbed sleep of
oblivion.

Though Wyntown was contemporary with Fordun, and even survived iiim,ifc
is certain that he never saw Fordun's work ; so that he has an equal claim Avith
that Avriter to the title of an original historian of Scotland; and his
" Cronykil " has the advantage over Fordun's history, both in that it is
brought down to a later period, and is written in the language of the
country —

" 'I'jl ilke mann) s wiiderstaiidjng."

" In Wyntown's Chronicle," says Mr IMacplierson, " the historian may find,
what, for want of more ancient records, which have long ago perished, we must
now consider as the original accounts of many transactions, and also many
events related from his own knowledge or the reports of eye-witnesses. His
faithful adherence to his authorities appears from comparing his accounts with
unquestionable vouchers, such as the Federa Anglice, and the existing remains
of the ' Register of the Priory of St Andrews,' that venerable monument of an-
cient Scottish history and antiquities, generally coeval with the facts recorded
in it, whence he has given large extracts almost literally translated." His
character as an historian is in a great measure common to the other historical
writers of his age, who generally admitted into their works the absurdity of
tradition along with authentic narrative, and often without any mark of
discrimination, esteeming it a sufficient standard of historic fidelity to narrate
nothing but what they found written by others before them. Indeed, it may
be considered fortunate that they adopted this method of compilation,
for through it we are presented with many genuine transcripts from ancient
authorities, of which their extracts are the only existing remains. In Wyntown's
work, for example, we have nearly three hundred lines of Barbour, in a more
genuine state than in any manuscript of Barbour's own work, and we have also
preserved a little elegiac song on the death of Alexander III., which must be
nearly ninety years older than Barbour's work. Of Barbour and other writers,
Wyntown speaks in a generous and respectful manner,^ and the same liberality
of sentiment is displayed by him regarding the enemies of his country, whose
gallantry he takes frequent occasion to praise. Considering the paucity
of books in Scotland at the time, Wyntown's learning and x-esourccs were by no
means contemptible. He quotes, among the ancient authors, Aristotle, Galen,
Palaephatus, Josephus, Cicero, Livy, Justin, Solinus, and Valerius Maximus,
and also mentions Homer, Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Statlus, Boethius, Dionysius,
Cato, Dares Phrygius, Origen, Augustin, Jerome, &c

Wyntown's Chronicle being in rhyme, he ranks among the poets of Scotland
and he is in point of time the third of the few early ones whose works we pos-
sess, Thomas the Rhymer and Barbour being his only extant predecessors.
His work is entirely composed of couplets, and these generally of eight sylla-
bles, though lines even of ten and others of six syllables frequently occur,
" Perhaps," says Mr Ellis, " the noblest modern versifier who should undertake
to enumerate in metre the years of our Lord in only one century, would feel

* He even avows his incompetency to write equal to Barbour, as in tlie foUov/ing
Hues ;<—

The Stewartis originale
The Archedekjne has tretyd hal
In metre fa3're jnare werlwdy
Than I can Ihynk be my study, &c.

Crcnylcil, B. viii. c. 7. v. 14^

49G PATRICK YOUNG.

some respect foi" the ingeniuty with which Wyutown has contrived to vary his rhymes
throughout such a formidable chronological series as he ventured to encounter.
His genius is certainly inferior to that of his predecessor Barbour; but at least
his vei'sification is easj'^, his language pure, and his style often animated."

There are various manuscripts of Wyntown's work, more or less perfect, still
extant. The one in the British Museum is the oldest and the best ; and after it
rank, in antiquity and correctness, the manuscripts belonging to the Cotton
Library and to the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh,

YOUNG, Patrick, known also by Lis Latinized name of Patilcius Junius, a
distinguished scholar of the seventeenth century, was the son of Sir Peter Young,
co-preceptor with Buchanan of king James VI., and was born at Seaton, in
Haddingtonshire, in 1584. He was educated at the university of St Andrews —
accompanied his fother in the train of James VL to England, in 1603, and was for
some time domesticated M-ith Dr Lloyd, bishop of Chester, as his librarian or
secretary. In 1G05, he was incorporated at Oxford in the degree of M.A., which
ho had taken at St Andrews; and, entering into deacon's orders, was made
one of the chaplains of All-Souls' college. Tliere he acquired considerable pro-
ficiency in ecclesiastical history and antiquities, and became profoundly skilled
in the Greek language, in Avhich he made a practice of corresponding with his
father and other learned men. He afterwards repaired to London, and, by the
interest of Dr Montagu, bishop of Bath and Y/ells, obtained a pension of £50 a-year,
and was occasionally employed by the king, and some persons connected with the
government, in writing Latin letters. The same interest obtained for him the
office of royal librarian. In 1G17, Young went to Paris, with recommendatory
letters from Camden, which introduced him to the learned of that capital. After
his return, he was engaged in the translation of the Avorks of king James into
Latin. In 1620, having recently been married, he was presented with two rectories
in Denbighshire; soon after, he became a prebend of St Paul's, and the treasurer
of that cathedral; and, in 1624, he attained, by the influence of bishop Williams,
the office of Latin secretary. Young, whose reputation was now widely extended,
was one of the learned persoriS chosen by Seklen to aid in the examination of the
Arundelian marbles. He made a careful examination of the Alexandrian manu-
script of the Bible, and communicated some various readings to Grotius, Ushei-,
and other learned men. He also published a specimen of an edition of that
manuscript, which he intended to execute, but was ultimately obliged to abandon;
howevei-, in 1633, he edited, from the same manuscript, "The Epistles of Clemens
Romanus;" and afterwards published, with a Latin version, "Catena Graicorum
Patium in Jobum, collectore Niceta, Heraclife Metropolita." In 1638, he pub-
lished, " Expositio in Canticum Canticorum Folioti Episcopi Londinensis, una cum
Alcuini in idem Canticum Compendio." Young also made preparations for editing
various other manuscripts, to which his office in the king's library gave him access,
when the confusions occasioned by the civil war, and the seizure of the library by
the parliament, put an end to his designs. He retired during this period to the
house of his sou-in-law, at Broomfield, in Essex, where he died in 1652.

GLASGOW: W. G. BLACKIE AND CO., PEINTERS, VILLAFIELD.

A

BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY

OP

EMINENT SCOTSMEN.

SUPPLEMENT AND CONTINUATION TO 1855.

ABERCROMBIE, John, M.D., the subject of this biief memoir, was one oi
the latest of that medical school of which Scotland is so justly proud. He was
horn in Aberdeen, on the llth of October, 1781, and was son of the Rsv\ Mr.
Abercrombie, who for many years Avas one of the ministers of that town, and
distinguished by his piety and worth. The excellent training which John en-
joyed imder such a parent, imparted that high moral and religious tone by which
his whole life was subsequently characterized. After a boyhood spent under
the paternal roof, and the usual routine of a classical education, he was sent, in
consequence of his choice of the medical profession, to the university of Edin-
burgh, at that time distinguished as the best medical school in the empire.
Here he applied to his studies with indefatigable diligence, and while his
fellow-students marked his progress with admiration, they were not less struck
with the moral excellence of his character, and the deep, practical, unobtrusive
piety by which, even thus early, his whole life was regulated. It was this con-
firmed excellence of character, expressed alike in action and conversation, cora-
1,'ined with his high professional talents and reputation, that afterwards won for
him the confidence of his patients, and imparted to his attentions at the sick-
bed a charm that, of itself, was half the cure. When the usual prescribed course
cf study at the medical classes had expired, Mr. Abercrombie graduated at the
university of Edinburgh on the 4th of June, 1803, while only in his twenty-
second year, the subject of his thesis being " De Fatuitate Alpina." He then
went to London, and after a short period of study at the schools and hospitals
of the metropolis, returned to Edinburgh, and was admitted a Fellow of its
Royal College of Surgeons on the 12th of November, 1804. On this occasion,
his probationary Essay, submitted to the president and council, entitled, " On
Paralysis of the Lower Extremities from Diseased Spine," was characterized by
such clearness of thought and perspicuity of style, as fully indicated the
eminence that awaited him not only in his professional capacity, but also in tho
ranks of authorship.

Thus prepared for action, Dr. Abercrombie, though still young, and com-

Vi, A

JOHN ABEECROIMBIE, M.D.

paratively a stranger in Edinburgh, resolved to establish himself at once as a
physician in the northern capital, instead of commencing his career in some
more humble district. He accordingly took a house in Nicolson Street, and as
a general or family practitioner his reputation continued to grow from year to
year without interruption. Even this, however, was not enough for his active
and benevolent mind; and therefore, notwithstanding the increase of businessj
and its tempting emoluments, he gave much of his time to attendance on the
poor, as one of the medical officers of the Royal Public Dispensary. Still deem-
ing his own personal exertions insufficient, he would not rest until he had im-
parted his enthusiasm to others ; and therefore, when his reputation in clinical
knowledge had gathered round him a host of pupils emulous to follow his
example, he divided the city into districts, to each of which a few of these
students were attached for medical superintendence. In this way, while the
health of the humblest of the population of Edinburgh was cared for, an efficient
class of experienced physicians was trained for the kingdom at large. Besides
this important service, on being appointed vaccinator along with Drs. Gillespie
and Bryce, he was enabled to take with them an active part in introducing the
practice of the Jennerian discovery into Scotland.

At length, when after a course of years, the professional experience and re-
putation of Dr. Abercrombie ha reached their height, an event occurred by
which it was hoped their excellence would be duly honoured. This was a
vacancy in the Chair of Medicine in the university of Edinburgh, occasioned
by the death of Dr. Gregory in 1821. On this occasion Dr. Abercrombie added
his name to the list of candidates, while his friends were sanguine in the hope
of his success. But town-councils are not always infallible judges of scientific
attainments, and his application was unsuccessful. The following list of his
writings, which he presented to the Provost and Town-Council of Edinburgh,
on announcing himself as candidate for the Chair, will sufficiently show how
his hours of literary leisure, amidst a throng of professional occupations extend-
ing over the preceding course of years, had been occupied and improved : —
1. On Diseases of the Spinal Marrow.

3. On Dropsy; particularly on some modifications of it which are success-
fully treated by blood-letting.

3. On Chronic Inflammation of the Brain and its Membranes, including

Researches on Hydrocephalus.

4. On Apoplexy.
6. On Palsy.

6. On Organic Diseases of the Brain.

7. On a Remarkable and Dangerous Affection, producing Difficulty of

Breathing in Infants.

8. On the Pathology of the Intestinal Canal. Parti. On Hens.

9. Ditto. Part II. On Inflammation of the Bowels.

10. Ditto. Part III. On Diseases of the Mucous Membranes of the Bowels.

11. On the Pathology of Consumptive Diseases.

12. On Ischuria Renalis.

After the decease of Dr. Gregory, Dr. Abercrombie although unsuccessful in
his application for the Chair of Medicine, succeeded him as consulting physician,
in which situation his services were often in demand, not only in Edinburgh,
but over the whole of Scotland. He was also appointed physician to the king
for Scotland— a mere title, it is true, but at the same thne one of those honorary

JOHN AEERCROMBIE, M.D.

titles that often stamp the value of the man, and prove a passport to the sub-
stantialities of eminence and wealth. In 1834, his reputation was so completely-
fixed, that the university of Oxford, departing from its usual routine in behalf
of the alumni of Scottish colleges, conferred on him the honorary degree of
Doctor of Medicine, and on the following year he was elected Lord Rector of
the Marischal college of Aberdeen. Besides these, he held other offices of dis-
tinction, most of which were connected with benevolent societies. In this way
his life went onward, and while he increased in wealth and professional reputa-
tion, his piety made him the friend of the good, and his benevolence the
honoured of the poor. But all was brought to an abrupt termination by his
sudden death, at his house in York Place, on the 14th of November, 1844. On
the morning of that day, having breakfasted at nine o'clock, he retired to his
private room, while several patients were waiting for him, and his carriage
standing at the door. As nearly an hour elapsed, his servant, alarmed at such
unusual delay, entered the room, and found his master lying extended and life-
less on the floor, his death having been apparently all but instantaneous. It
was found, on a 2}:st mortem examination, that the cause of his death was the
bursting of a coronary artery. Thus unexpectedly was closed the life of one
whom all classes esteemed, and whose loss is still felt and remembered.

Dr. Abercrombie was distinguished not only as a most eminent and successful
medical practitioner, but also as an able and eloquent writer. At first, his exer-
tions in authorship were confined to the " Edinburgh Medical and Surgical
Journal," and other similar professional periodicals ; but when his literary
strength was matured, he produced a separate treatise entitled " Pathological
and Practical Researches on Diseases of the Brain and the Spinal Cord.*'
Edinburgh : 1828. Svo. This work, which abounds in pure scientific know-
ledge, and evinces his profound research into mental character, as connected
■with physical condition and action, was followed in the same year by another
of still higher merit, having for its title, " Pathological and Practical Researches
on the Diseases of the Intestinal Canal, Liver, and other Viscera of the Abdomen."
Edinburgh : 1828. Svo. These, however, though so highly meritorious, were but
prelusive eflPorts to something still more important ; and after a careful study
and arrangement of the materials which he had been accumulating for years, he
produced two works ; the one entitled, " Inquiries concerning the Intellectual
Powers, and the Investigation of Truth." Edinburgh: 1830. 8vo; and the
other, " The Philosophy of the Moral Feelings." London : 1833. 8vo. Upon
these works, of which the latter is a sequel to the former, his literary reputa-
tion will chiefly rest ; and they will always continue to be prized by the
reflective mind, from the views which they unfold of the intellectual and moral
nature of man, and the harmonious combination which exists between the
truths of science and the revelations of Christianity. Independently, however,
of these writings, so distinguished by their profound medical, ethical, and
metaphysical knowledge, and so practical in their bearings, Dr. Abercrombie's
pen was employed on the subjects of humble every-day usefulness, and pure
unmixed religion and vital godliness, so that shortly after the publication of
his " Philosophy of the Moral Feelings," he produced his " Treatise on the Moral
Condition of the Lower Classes in Edinburgh," and subsequently^, " The Elements
of Sacred Truth," which were first published singly and at intervals, and afterwards
collected into a small volume. " These tracts," an able reviewer has observed,
** reflect the highest honour on Dr. Abercrombie. It is beautiful to see au

SIR ANDREW AGNEW, BART.

individual of his professional celebrity thus dedicatino; his talents and a portion
of his time to religious instruction. Such an example is above all praise."

AGNEW, Sir Andrew, of Lochnaw, Bart., Lieutenant-General. The
family of Agnew lays claim, and probably with justice, to a more illustrious
antiquity than most of our Scottish noble houses. The founder is supposed to
have been one of the followers of William the Conqueror. Be that as it may,
we find the Agnew or Agneau of the day accompanying Sir John de Courcy
in the invasion of Ireland, and settling at Larne, in Ulster, after that province
was conquered by the Anglo-Normans. Besides this Irish branch of the
Agnews, another, in the true spirit of Norman enterprise, entered Scotland in
the reign of David II., where they acquired the lands of Lochnaw, and were
invested with the offices of heritable constables and sheriffs of Wigtonshire.

Sir Andrew Agnew, the subject of the present memoir, and fifth baronet of
Lochnaw, was born in 1G87, and was the eldest son of a family of twenty-ona
children. This was a truly patriarchal number ; but he lived almost to equal
it, being himself ultimately the father of seventeen sons and daughters by one
mother, the daughter of Agnew of Creoch. Sir Andrew embraced the military
profession at an early period, as many of his family had done, and was an offi-
cer in the great Marlborough campaigns, as we find him a cornet in the second
regiment of Dragoons or Scotch Greys, at the battle of Ramilies, when he had just
reached his nineteenth year. It was in this capacity, and under such training, that
besides being a skilful and successful officer, he became distinguished by those
deeds of personal daring, as well as eccentric peculiarities of manner, that long
made him a favourite in the fireside legends of the Scottish peasantry. Among
these, we are told, that on one occasion having been appointed to superintend
the interment of the slain after one of the continental engagements, his orderly
came to him in great perplexity, saying, " Sir, there is a heap of fellows lying
yonder, who say they are only wounded, and won't consent to be buried like
the rest: what shall I do?" " Bury them at once," cried Sir Andrew, "for if
you take their own word for it, they won't be dead for a hundred years to come i "
The man, who understood nothing beyond the word of command, made his
military salaam, and went off with full purpose to execute the order- to the
letter, when he was checked by a counter-order from his superior, who perhaps
little thought that his joke would have been carried so far. On another occa-
sion, when an engagement was about to commence, he pointed to the enem}^,
and thus briefly and pithily addressed his soldiers : " Weel, lads, ye see theso
loons on the hill there : if ye dinna kill them, they'll kill you."

When the battle of Dettingen took place, which occurred in 1743, where
George II. commanded the British troops in person. Sir Andrew Agnew held
the rank of lieutenant- colonel, and was appointed to the keeping of a pass at the
outskirts of the British army, through which an attack of the French was appre-
hended. On this post of danger, accordingly, the knight of Lochnaw stationed
himself with his regiment of Scots Fusileers as coolly as if he had been upon the
boundary of one of his own farms in Wigtonshire. One day, while at dinner, he
was informed that there were symptoms of a coming attack— that the enemy's
cavalry were mustering at no great distance. " The loons!" cried Sir Andrew
indignantly; "surely they will never hae the impudence to attack the Scots
Fusileers 1" and forthwith ordered his men to finish their dinner quietly, assur-
ing them that they would fight all the better for it. He continued eating and
encouraging his officers to follow his example, until the enemy were so nigh, that

SIR ANDllEW AGNEW, BART.

a shot struck from his hand a bone which he was in the act of pickin;j. " They
are in earnest now!" he cried, and drew up his men to receive the enemy, wlio
came on at full charge. They were a portion of the royal household troops, the
picked and best -disciplined soldiers of France, mounted upon heavy and
powerful horses, and armed with cuirasses that were buckled close to the saddle,
so that the point of a bayonet could not easily find entrance within their steel
panoply. Sir Andrew, who knew that it was useless to abide such an avalanche
of man and horse, ordered his soldiers not to fire until they saw the whites of
their enemy's eyes, to take aim only at their horses, and open their ranks as
soon as a charge was made upon them. This skilful manoeuvre succeeded as he
had foreseen — the French horses were brought down in heaps, their riders easily
bayonetted, and the far-famed household troops were driven back with heavy
loss. After the battle, George II. observed, "Well, Sir Andrew, I hear that
your regiment was broken; that you let the French cavalry in upon you."
" Yes, please your Majesty," replied the gallant humourist^ " but they didna
gang back again."

The most important military service, however, in which Sir Andrew Agnew
was engaged, was the defence of Blair Castle against the troops of the Pretender,
during the insurrection of 1745-6. On the arrival of the Duke of Cumberland
in Perth, to take the command of the royalist army, he found it necessary to
occupy and garrison Blair Castle, the seat of the Duke of Athol, then absent,
for the purpose of suppressing the disaffected of the district, and cutting off the
communications of the rebels by the great roads between the southern and nor-
thern parts of the country'. For this service Sir Andrew was selected, and des-
patched thither with a detachment of three hundred soldiers. Not only was
no siege expected, but the place was ill fitted to sustain one; for it was scantily
supplied with provisions, and had no artillery or military stores, while the sol-
diers had only nineteen rounds of ammunition per man. Of all this the rebels
seem to have been apprised, and, accordingly, on the morning of the 17th of
March (17-iG), Lord George Murray, lieutenant-general of the Pretender,
Lord Nairne, Macpherson of Clunie, and other Jacobite leaders, reserved to
recover the castle, and open their communications. They came, therefore, ia
great force, captured the detached parties that were without the castle, and sud-
denly appeared before the fort itself, while such a visit was neither expected
nor desired. Most commanders in such a situation as that of Sir Andrew would
have abandoned the fort as untenable ; but he had not thus learned his military
lessons under the great Marlborough : he resolved to defend it to the last, not-
withstanding its impoverished condition, and thus give time for the collection
of those forces by which the insurrection was soon after extinguished at Cul-
loden. He therefore issued strict orders to his garrison, now reduced to 270
men, to save their ammunition with the utmost care ; and, as there were no
provisions in the castle but some bread and cheese, he commanded these to bo
dealt out in small daily rations.

As the obtaining of Blair Castle was of the utmost importance to the rebels,
Lord George Murray, their ablest commander, commenced the siege in due
form. He began by a summons to surrender ; and knowing the old knight's
fiery temper, he wrote to him to this effect, not upon decent foolscap, but a
piece of shabby grey paper. But who was to enter the lion's den, and beard
him with such a missive? No Highlander could be found to undertake the
task, so that it was intrusted to a comely young servant maid of Blair Inn,

SIR ANDREW AGNEW, BART.

who had found favour in the eyes of Sir Andrew's young officers while they
resorted there, and who naturally thought that they would not allow her to be
harmed. She approached the garrison, taking care to avoid being shot, by
waving the paper over her head like a flag of truce. When she delivered her
credentials, she earnestly entreated the officers to surrender, assuring them that
the Highlanders were a thousand strong, and would ding the castle about their
ears ; but this friendly warning they only received with peals of laughter, tell-
ing her that they would soon set these Highlanders a scampering, and visit her
at the inn as before. No one, however, would deliver the summons to Sir An-
drew, except a timid lieutenant of the company, whose nerves were further
unstrung by the use of strong waters ; but no sooner did the old knight hear the
first sentence read, than he burst forth into such a storm of wrath, and uttered
such fearful threats of shooting the next messenger through the head who dared
to propose a surrender, that the lieutenant took to his heels, while Molly, who
stood at the bottom of the stairs, and heard the whole, fled across the fields like
a startled hare. She told her employers, waiting in the churchyard of Blair, the
result of her mission, who laughed heartily at the rage of Sir Andrew. Still
further to provoke him, and perhaps tempt him to a rash sally, they threw large
stones at the walls, accompanied with biting jokes at his expense ; but fiery
though his temper was, and impatient of ridicule, he was too wary a soldier to
afford them such an advantage. In the mean time, the more serious work of
the siege went on with vigour, and, though the walls of Blair Castle were of
great thickness, the assailants not only used common, but also hot shot, in the
hope of setting the building on fire. The wood being luckily not very combus-
tible, only smouldered as it received the balls. But the chief confidence of the
rebels was to starve the garrison out, knowing how scantily it was supplied ;
and for this purpose they strictly blockaded the place, while their best marks-
men were ordered to keep up a close fire wherever a man showed himself.
This last incident suggested to the officers of the castle a practical joke at the
expense of their worthy commander, whom they loved, feared, and laughed at
when they dared. They therefore got one of his old uniforms ; and having
stuffed it with straw, and furnished the figure with a spy-glass, they placed it
at a small turret window, where it looked like no other than Sir Andrew
himself reconnoitring the enemy below. The rifles of the assailants were all
brought to bear upon it, and the best marksmen of the Highlands continued to
riddle this deceptive wisp, until Sir Andrew himself, wondering why this point
should have been selected for such a hot attack, ascended the turret, and there
he saw this other identity standing under fire, as stiff, fearless, and imperturbable
as himself ! He was in a towering rage at the irreverent deception, and resolved
that the perpetrator should not escape a share of his own joke. The wag was
ordered to go to this spot so full of risk, and carry the puppet away, Sir Andrew
gruffly pronouncing this retributive sentence : " Let the loon that set it up, just
gang up himsel' and tak' it down again."

Beyond all military calculation. Sir Andrew Agnew, with miserably scanty
means, had made good his position from the 17th of March to the end of the
month. Longer than this, however, it was impossible to hold out, as the pro-
visions of the garrison were exhausted, so that nothing seemed to be left them but
a desperate sally, or immediate surrender. A faint chance indeed there might be
of some messenger stealing through the leaguer, and carrying tidings of their
condition to the Earl of Crawford, who was then at Dunkeld with a strong force

EEV. ARCHIBALD ALISON, M.A., LL.B.

of Hessians. This was now attempted, and the gardener of Blair Castle under-
took to be the messenger. The gate was opened without noise ; he stole out
unperceived, mounted a horse, and rode cautiously down the avenue to the high-
way ; but immediately a firing and pursuit commenced, and, on the following
day, a Highlander was seen mounted on the gardener's horse, so that the garrison
thought he must have been either killed or taken. On the 1st of April, how-
ever, they were startled by an unexpected messenger; this was no other than
Molly of the Inn, formerly the envoy of the rebels, who now came Avith the
joyful intelligence that they had broken up their encampment, and gone away
to Dalnacardoch. Sir Andrew, who was not only wary but short-sighted,
would not trust the news, and abode a day longer in his hunger-bitten hold,
when an officer arrived from the Earl of Crawford, to say that his lordship him-
self was on the road with his cavahy, and would arrive within an hour. Such
was the case ; for the gardener's horse being alarmed at the firing, had thrown
him, and been captured by the Highlanders, so that he had made his journey to
Dunkeld on foot. When Crawford arrived, Sir Andrew drew up his soldiers to
receive him, and thus addressed the Earl: " My lord, I am very glad to see you;
but, by all that's good, you have been very dilatory ; we can give you nothing
to eat." The Earl laughed good humouredly, and invited Sir Andrew and his
officers to dine with him — an invitation that was never more welcome, perhaps,
than at the present crisis. The summer-house in the garden was immediately
turned into a dining-room, the table was plentifully covered with substantial
dishes and excellent wines, and the half-starved and doomed defenders of Blair
Castle were translated, as if by magic, into the regions of safet}', hilarity, and
good cheer.

After the siege was thus raised. Sir Andrew Agnew's gallant defence was net
forgot. He and his soldiers were publicly thanked by the Duke of Cumber-
land, and soon afterwards he was promoted to a Colonelcy of Marines. In
1747, in consequence of the abolition of the many old feudal offices in Scotland,
his hereditary sheriffdom of Wigtonshire was among the number; but ho
received £4000 as a compensation from government. In 1750, he was ap-
pointed governor of Tinmouth Castle, in room of the Duke of Somerset.
He died, with the rank of Lieutenant-General, in 1771, at the age of eighty-
four, and was succeeded by his fifth son. Sir Stair Agnew, who was born
October 9, 1734. His father, who at that period was absent on foreign service,
found at his return the infant nestled in the maternal bosom. " What's this
ye hae got, Nelly?" he asked, as this was the first intelligence he had of tha
event. "Another son to you. Sir Andrew," she answered. "And what do
you call this boy ?" " I have called him Stair, after the earl, your commander."
" Stair, Sir Stair," repeated the knight, whistling the sibilant sounds through
his teeth—" Sir Stair, Sir Deevil ! It disna clink weel, Nelly." The sounds,
however, were at last united, whether they clinked or not, for the child, by the
death of his elder brothers, ultimately succeeded to the Baronetcy of Lochnav,-.

ALISON, Rev. AncniBALD, M.A., LL.B., this distinguished writer en
" Taste," whose works procured him a high reputation among the foremost literary
judges of his day, was born in Edinburgh, a.d, 1757, and was the son of Mr.
Andrew Alison, one of the magistrates of that city. When he had completed
the usual course of an elementary classical education, he was sent, at the age of
fifteen, to the university of Glasgow, where, after the usual curriculum of Latin,
Greek, and Logic, he attended the lectures of Professor Reid, at that time in

REV. ARCHIBALD ALISON, M.A., LL.B.

high metaphysical reputation, and formed an intimacy with Dugald Stewart,
which continued to the end of his life. Having been so fortunate as to
obtain one of those exhibitions to Baliol College of which the university of
Glasgow possesses the patronage, Archibald Alison removed to Oxford, where
he completed his course of study, and took the degree of A.^I., and afterwards
of LL.B. In 1784, he also took orders, and married the eldest daughter of the
celebrated Dr, John Gregor}^ of Edinburgh. His first appointment in the
cliurch was to the curacy of Brancepath, in the county of Durham. After
this, he was appointed to the chapelry of Kenley in Shropshire in 1790, and
to the vicarage of Ercall in the same county in 1794, by the Earl of Darlington,
to whom the patronage of both livings belonged ; and in 1797 he was presented
to Roddington by the Lord Chancellor. In 1791 also, the small prebend of
Yatminster Secunda, in the cathedral of Salisbury, was conferred upon him
by Bishop Douglas. So many pluralities have an imposing appearance ; but
their aggregate revenue amounted to nothing more than eight hundred per
fainum. Circumstances soon led to Alison's removal to his native cit.y, having
been invited by Sir William Forbes and the vestry of the Episcopal Chapel in
the Cowgate of Edinburgh, to become senior minister of that charge. He re-
moved to Edinburgh in 1800, and continued to preach in the Cowgate, until
the congregation removed from that murky locality to the handsome chapel of
St. Paul's, in York Place. In 1831, Alison, now an old man, and subject to
tjevere attacks of pectoral disease, was obliged to desist from his pul^lic labours,
rmd confine himself to the private society of his friends, in which the evening
of liis days was tranquil and happy. The high reputation which he had at-
tained both as a preacher and writer, and his amiable personal qualities, en-
cleared him to the most distinguished literary characters for whicli Edinburgh
was now at the height of its fame; and he was in constant intercourse, among
others, with Dugald Stewart, Dr. Gregory, Lord Woodhouselee, Professor
Flayfair, Dr. Thomas Brown, Sir James Hall, and Thomas Campbell. Besides
tiiese, he had been in familar acquaintanceship with the illustrious of the end
of the last century, such as Dr. Adam Smith, Dr. Adam Ferguson, Dr. Robert-
son, and Dr. Blair. He was indeed the literary Kestor of the day, who
chronicled the remembrances of the great and good of a past generation for the
instruction of their successors. Another congenial spirit, though in a diiferent
walk of intellect, whose society he especially valued, was Mr. Telford, the cele-
brated engineer ; and it was pleasing to witness the zeal of the venerable pair,
while Telford unfolded his scientific plans for the improvement of their native
Scotland and its fair capital. The death of Archibald Alison occurred in 1839,
at the ago of eighty-two. By his wife, who died in 1830, he had six children,
of whom three survived him, and one of them. Sir Archibald Alison, is known
to most of our readers as the author of the " History of Europe from the French
Revolution."

Of the Rev. Archibald Alison's life as an author it is now necessary to speak.
Ilis " Essays on the Nature and Principles of Taste," the work by whicli he is
best known, was published so early as 1790, but attracted little notice — the state
of society being probably far from favourable at that time to metaphysical in-
vestigation. Not discouraged by the cold reception of a subject whicli had
evidently formed the chief study of his life, Alison, after he had been for some
years settled in Edinburgh, republished his " Essays" with considerable additions
in 181 1 . He had now established for himself a more favourable class of readers;

SIR WILLIAM ALLAN, E.A.

and he was so fortunate as to find a eulogist in Francis Jeffrey, then the Aris-
tarchus of critics, and through the " Edinburgh Review" at that time the para-
mount oracle of the literary world. A very powerful and beautiful article forth-
with appeared in that influential periodical upon the long-neglected work; and
the consequence was, that the "Essays" immediately took their placeas the standard
ofthe" Nature and Principlesof Taste." Thepresent generation can well remember
how their boyhood and youth were familiarized with it, and how the pulpit and
the press did homage to its authority. But time has sobered down this en-
thusiasm, and Alison is reckoned neither to have invented a new theory (for its
leading idea had been distinctly announced by David Hume) ; nor to have sifted
it with the most philosophical analysis, or expressed it in the happiest language.
But who shall arrest our fleeting emotions produced by the sublime and the
beautiful, and reduce them to such a fixed standard as all shall recognize ?
Longinus, Burke, Schlegel, and Alison, have all successively passed away, while
the science of aesthetics is still accumulating its materials for future theorists and
iresh legislation. The theory of taste, like that of the weather or the tides, is
still the subject of hypothesis and conjecture. Besides his principal work of
" Essays on Taste," which has gone through many editions, both in Britain and
America, as well as been translated into French, Mr. Alison published two
volumes of sermons, which have also been several times republished; and a
" Memoirof Lord Woodhouselee," inserted in the " Transactions of the Edinburgh
Royal Society," 1818. The character of Alison, which is thus given by his son,
was borne out through a long and well-spent life : — " No man who held firm
and uncompromising opinions on the principles of religion and morals, looked
with more indulgence on the failings of others, or passed through the world in
more perfect charity and good-will to all men. No man who had lived much
in societ}-, could retire with more sincere pleasure at all periods of his life into
domestic privacy, and into the solitude of the country. * ''• * '-^ '-^ No
man who had attained a high reputation as a preacher or an author, was ever
more absolutely indifferent to popular applause, as compared witli (he conscious-
ness of the performance of duty."

ALLAN, Sir William, R.A., PresiJeut of the Royal Scottish Academy
of Painting. This distinguished painter was born at Edinburgh, in the year
1782, and was the son of William Allan, who held the humble office of macer
in the Court of Session. Notwithstanding the circumstances of his birth, he
was destined, like others of the same grade in Scotland, to undergo a classical
education, before his future path in life was selected. Accordingly', he was
sent, while still in early boyhood, to the High School of Edinburgh, and placed
under the preceptorship of Mr. William Nichol, whose memory will descend
to posterity more for the " peck o' maut,'' which he brewed to supply one
memorable sitting where Burns was the laureate, than for all his classical
attainments, respectable though they were. The future artist, however, was
a poor Latin scholar, though Nichol was a stern and able teacher. In fact, the
young boy already felt nature strong within him, so that he was employed iu
sketching the objects around him with whatever instrument came to hand,
while his class-fellows were occupied with the commentaries of Ctesar, or the
longs and shorts of Ovid. So keen was this artistic tendency, that the forms
and floor of the class-room were frequently chalked ^^ith his juvenile efforts,
while their excellence invariably pointed out the offender who had thus trans-
gressed against academic rule. Another luxury in which he indulged, was

v. B

10 SIR WILLIAM ALLAN, R.A.

to linger near a group of boys playing at marbles ; and while studying their
attitudes and the expression of their countenances, he neither thought of the
class hour that had elapsed, nor the punishment that awaited his remissness.
After striving against the bent, Mv Nichol saw that he could not transform his
pupil into a lover of Latin and Greek ; but his pupil liad long been of the same
opinion. He felt within himself not only his natunil tendency, but a vague
conception of the eminence to which it would lead him ; and his usual reply
to paternal remonstrance was, '•' Father, in spite of all this spending of money
in learning Latin, I will be a painter." A painter accordingly it was consented
that he should be, but his noviciate in the profession was sufficiently humble :
lie was bound apprentice to a coach-builder in Leitli Walk, to paint the armo-
rial bearings on the panels of carriages. But Hogarth himself had a less pro-
mising commencement. William Allan, although a stripling not more than
thirteen years of age, soon gave such indications of pictorial excellence, that he
was employed in the delicate task of painting certain anatomical preparations
at Surgeon's Square Hall. At the commencement of his labours there, he was
locked up by mistake at night in the room where he had been occupied all
day, and was thus compelled to spend the hours of darkness amidst the skeletons
and mangled relics of the dead. The hideous effects upon the imagination of a
timid susceptible boy in such a charnel-house ; the sights he saw by the glimmer
of the moon through the crevices of the window-shutters, and the still more
terrible phantasms which his fancy conjured up, formed such a night of horror
as no artist but Fuseli could have relished. Allan himself was wont at a late
stage in life, and amidst the literary circles of Edinburgh by which he was sur-
rounded, to detail the particulars of this ghastly bivouac with a force of descrip-
tion and amount of merriment that never failed to set the hearers in a roar. It
was making Yorick's skull to speak anew, for the mirth of a present, as well as
past generation.

The high promise of excellence which the coach-panel painting of William
Allan afforded, so won upon his employer, that, through the influence of the
latter, he was entered in the Trustees' Academy, where he was a pupil fcr
several years ; and it is worthy of remark that Wilkie entered this school at
the same period with Allan, sat on the same form, and copied from the same
models and drawings. This circumstance, independently of their mutual en-
thusiasm for the art in which they were afterwards so distinguished, ripened
an affection between them which no jealous rivalry could subsequently disturb.
Their friendship continued unabated till the close of Wilkie's life ; and Allan
was wont, while training his scholars, to refer to his illustrious fellow-pupil, as
their best model and example. After he had spent several years in the lessons
of the Trustees' Academy, where he had a faithful and efficient teacher in Mv.
Graham, of whose instructions he always spoke with gratitude and respect,
Allan went to London, and was admitted to the school of the Royal Academy.
On commencing active life, however, he soon experienced the difficulties with
which the Fine Arts, as a profession, have to contend in the great metropolis
of merchandise: his superiority was not appreciated with that readiness wliicii
his youthful enthusiasm had anticipated, and the demands upon his pencil were
so few, as would soon have been insufficient to furnish him with the means of
a mere subsistence. Like his countrymen so situated, he resolved to try the
experiment elsewhere, and find, or make a home, wherever his talents could
be best appreciated. The place which he selected for trial was Russia, a

STR WILLIAM ALLAN, R.A. H

country still semi- barbarous, and but imperfectly known in general society,
and where the Fine Arts seemed to have little chance of a cordial reception,
amidst the recent, and as yet, imperfect civilization of tlie people. The bold-
ness of his choice also was fully matched by scantiness of means for its execu-
tion ; for he knew nothing of the Russ language, was slenderly provided with
money, and had only one or two letters of introduction to some of his country-
men in St. Petersburg.

Thus inadequately equipped, the artist-adventurer threw himself into that
bold career which was ultimately to lead to fame and fortune. Even the com-
mencement was attended with a startling omen ; for the ship in which he em-
barked for Riga was tossed about by adverse winds, and at length driven almost
a Avreck into Merael. Thus, contrary to his purpose, Allan found himself the
temporary inhabitant of a sea-port town in Prussia, in the midst of a people
to whose tongue he was a stranger, and with pecuniary resources which a few
days Avould have exhausted. Still, however, his stout heart triumphed over
the difficulty. Having settled himself at an inn, he commenced in due form
the occupation of portrait painter, and had for his first sitter the Danish consul,
to whom he had been introduced by the captain of the vessel that brought him
to Memel. Other sitters followed; and having thus recruited his exhausted
purse, he resumed his original purpose of travelling to Russia, which he did by
land, passing on his way to St. Petersburg through a considerable part of the
Russian army, which was at that time on its march to the fatal field of Aus-
terlitz. At St. Petersburg, he found an effectual patron in his counti'ymau.
Sir Alexander Crichton, phj'sician to the imperial family, to whom he was
warmly recommended by Colonel Crichton, the physician's brother, one of his
early patrons in Scotland, and by Sir Alexander he was introduced to an
extensive and fashionable circle of society, where his artistic talents were
appreciated, and his opportunities for their improvement furthered. To
accomplish that improvement, indeed, was so strongly the desire of his
ardent enthusiastic mind, that neither the motives of personal comfort
and safety, nor the attractive society of the Russian capital, could withhold
him from a course of adventurous self-denying ti'avel. He therefore repaired
to the Ukraine, where he resided for several years, studying the wild scenery
of the steppes, and the still wilder costume and manners of its inhabitants,
with a fearless and observant eye. He also made occasional journeys to Turkey
and Tartary, as well as to the remote dependencies of the Russian empire,
dwelling in the hut of the barbarian serf, or the tent of the wandering nomade,
as well as the palace of the boyar and the emir ; and amidst the picturesque
tribes of the east and noi'th, with whom he thus freely fraternized, he enjoyed
a daily intercourse with those whom his less adventurous brethren at home are
contented to delineate from the narratives of the traveller or the waking dreams
of the studio. The large collection which Allan made of the dresses, armour,
weapons, and utensils of the various communities among whom he sojourned,
and the life-like ease and fidelity of form, feature, and costume, by which the
figures of his principal paintings are distinguished, attest how carefully and
how completely he had identified himself with Russian, Turk, and Pole, with
Cossack, Circassian, and Bashkir. It is much to be regretted that no journal
appears to have been kept by the artist of the many stirring scenes he witnessed,
and the strange adventures he underwent in this novel pilL;rimage in quest of
the sublime and the beautiful. That they were pregnant with interest and instruc-

12 SIR WILLIAM ALLAN, R.A.

tion, and worthy of a permanent record, was well evinced by the delight
with which his hearers were wont to listen to his conversational narratives,
when he happened — which was but rarely — to allude to the events of his
travels. He appears also to have become an especial fevourite with those rude
cliildren of the mountain and the desert among whom he sojourned, and whoso
language, dress, and manners he adopted, so that he is still remembered
by the old among them as an adopted son or brotlier, while in Poland, tliB
usual name by which he is distinguished is, le Raphael Ecossais — the Scottisli
Raphael.

After this romantic apprenticeship to his beloved profession, in which he
established for himself a high reputation as a painter among foreigners, while he
was still unknown at home, Allan resolved in 1812 to return to his native land,
for wliich he had never ceased, amidst all his travels, to entertain. a most affec-
tionate longing. But tlie invasion of Russia by Napoleon obliged him to post-
pone his purpose ; and, in addition to the large stock of ideas which he had
already accumulated for future delineation, he was compelled to witness, and
treasure up remembrances of the worst effects of war upon its grandest scale —
bloodshed, conflagration, and famine maddening every human passion and
feeling to the uttermost. On the restoration of peace in 1814, Allan returned
to Edinburgh after a ten years' absence, and commenced in earnest the work
for which he had undergone so singular a training. His first effort, which was
finished in 1815, and exhibited in Somerset House, was his well-known
painting of the "Circassian Captives;" and after this, followed the '-'Tartar
Banditti;" " Haslan Gherai crossing the Kuban;" "A Jewish Wedding in
Poland;" and "Prisoners conveyed to Siberia by Cossacks." But, notwith-
standing the now highly established reputation of these and other productions,
which he exiiibited in his native city, along with the costumes and weapons of
the countries by which his paintings were iUustrated, a home reputation was
very hard to establish: his countrymen, with their proverbial caution, were
slow to perceive the excellencies that addressed them in such an unwonted
form, and refused to sympathize, at first sight, with Poles, Tartars, and Cir-
cassians. It was well, therefore, for Allan tliat his labours had already been
prized in Russia, so that he had not been allowed to return home empty-handed.
He persevered with the same boldness that had carried him onward througli the
encampments of the Calmucks, or the defiles of the Caucasus; and to all the
remonstrances of his relations, who advised him to leave such unprofitable work
and betake himself to portraits, by which he would gain both fame and money,
his invariable answer was, " I will be a historical painter."' His perseverance
was at last rewarded. Sir Walter Scott, John Lockhart, and John Wilson, with
others, wdio were able to appreciate the artist's merits, combined to purchase
the " Circassian Captives" at a price adequate to its value; and having dona
this, the individual possession of the painting was decided among them by lot^
in consequence of which it became the property of the Earl of Wemyss.
" Haslan Gherai," and the "Siberian Exiles," also found a munificent pur-
chaser in the Grand Duke Nicholas, now Emperor of Russia, when he visited
the Scottish capital. The tide had thus changed ; and it bore him on to
fortune, not only in pecuniary matters, but to what he had still more at heart —
the establishment of his reputation as a Scottish painter of history. Although
they are so well known, the following list of his principal productions may hero
be fitly introduced : —

SIR WTLTJAAT ATXAN, E.A. 13

The Slave Market at Constantinople— purchased by Alexander Hill, Esq.,
and now the property of Miss Davidson of Durievale, Fife.

John Knox admonisuing Mary Queen of Scots, — This is the well-known
scene described by the Reformer himself, in which the beautiful queen, irritated
by his bold sentiments about the limited power of sovereigns, and the liberty of
their subjects, burst into tears.

The Orphan, a scene at Abbotsford, in the interior of Sir Walter Scott's
breakfast-room.

The Meeting of David Deans with his Daughter Jeannie at Roseneatii.
In the tale of the "Heart of Mid-Lothian," Sir Walter Scott, after describing the
dress, look, a:-.d attitude of the stern old father, adds, " So happily did they
assort together, that, should I ever again see my friends Wilkie or Allan, I will
try to borrow or steal from them a sketch of this very scene." This was a fair
challenge, which Allan gladly accepted, and the picture of the meeting at Eose-
neath was tlie result.

The Regent Murray shot by Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh. — In this great
event of Scottish history', the painter, instead of confining himself to the strict
historical record, lias adopted the poetical description of Sir Walter Scott in his
ballad of Cadzow. This gave the artist an opportunity of introducing several
personages who were not present at the scene, such as John Knox, and the Earl
of Morton.

The Murder of David Rizzio.

The Fair IMaid of Perth — The scene is that in the glover's house, when
Henry of the Wynd was suddenly awoke on Valentine's morn by the bashful
salute of the f;iir object of his affections, according to the established custom of
the festival.

The Battle of Prestonpans. — The central and chief object in this painting
is the death of Colonel Gardiner, amidst the small handful of English infantry
whom he joined when his cavalry had deserted him.

The Ettrick Shepherd's Birthday. — In this painting, the portraits of the
principal friends of the artist and poet are introduced witliin the interior of
Hoggs house at Eltrive, after a day spent in trouting and rambling among the
mountains.

The Death of Archbishop Sharpk.

A Press-Gang. — The terrible and heart-rending fidelity and power of this
delineation have always placed it in the foremost rank of Allan's artistic pro-
ductions. A young man, tlie son of a fisherman, has just returned from a lom:^
voyage in a merchant ship, and been welcomed by his parents, relatives, and
mistress: the triumphant feast is prepared, and the happiness of the party has
reached its height, when a press-gang suddenly rushes in, and the sailor-boy ig
within their grasp, and about to be carried off. The agony of tiie parents ; the
fruitless attempt of the mother to bribe the leader of the gang; the stupor of
the aged grandfather and grandmother, with whom this seems to be the last, as
well as the most crushing affliction which a long-spent and now worn-out lil'e
could have in store for them — and saddest of all, the half-dressed maiden who
has hurried to welcome her lover's return, but only to lose him, and who has
fallen into an insensibility that might be mistaken for death— compose a group
of misery which art has seldom equalled, and perhaps never surpassed.

These are but a few of Allan's many productions, wliich were prized by com-
petent judges as masterpieces of historical painting, and the greater part of which

II SIR WILLIAM ALLAN, E.A,

have been familiarized to the public at large througli the medium of engraving.
His labours, however, ^vere move than once subject to interruption from ill
health ; and at last, a complaint in the e^-es suspended his exertions for several
years, and threatened to end in total blindness. By medical advice he went to
Italy; and after sojourning a winter at Rome, and spending a short time in
Naples, he visited Constantinople, Asia Minor, and Greece, and returned with
recruited health to his beloved studio in Edinburgh. He became once more a
traveller in 1834, being desirous of visiting the romantic and historical scenery
of Spain. His journey on this occasion extended into Western Barbary, and
would have been still further lengthened, but for a sudden necessity of return-
ing home, after which he continued to produce many of his best paintings. A
desire also to paint the Battle of Waterloo led him several times to France and
Belgium, that he might collect sufficient materials in costume, scenery, and in-
cident, and study accurately the field of conflict. The result was a magnificent
view of this great combat of nations, which, at the exhibition of the Royal
Academy in 1843, was purchased by the Duke of Wellington, who testified his
approbation of its truth and accuracy. Allan had now done enough for fame
and fortune, both as artist and traveller ; but in 1844, he again grasped his
pilgrim's staff for a journey into the far north. He visited Russia, and there
produced his painting of "Peter the Great teaching his subjects the art of ship-
building;" which, after being exhibited in the Royal Academy in 1845, was
purchased by the Emperor of Russia, for the winter palace of St. Petersburg.
In consequence of the success of his first painting of Waterloo, he resolved on
producing a second ; and, as the former was delineated as viewed from the
French side of the action, the latter Avas from the British. Independently also
of the stirring nature of the subject, his personal as well as patriotic feelings
Vv-ere engaged in this new effort, for it was intended for the competition of
Westminster Hall in 184G. Great, however, as were its merits, it was unsuccessful.
It was afterwards purchased by the Junior United Service Club in London, of
whose splendid rooms it now forms a conspicuous ornament. The public honours
which had already rewarded him, might indeed sufficiently console him under this
disappointment ; for in 1826 he was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy',
and in 1835 an Academician. Four years later, on the death of Watson, he was
unanimously preferred to the office of President of the Royal Scottish Academy;
and in 1842, after having been appointed her ]\Iajesty's Limner for Scotland on
the death of Wilkie, he received the honour of knighthood. He was now also
the venerable father of Scottish painting, and could look around him with
pleasure upon a race of promising artists whose genius his example and labours
had kindled in a department which, as yet, his countrymen had almost wholly
neglected.

Tlie last professional labour in which Sir William Allan was engaged was the
Battle of Bannockburn, into the difficult and complicated details of which he
entered with all the inspiration and vigour of his best daj's. The period of
action selected was the critical moment when the English, daunted by the dis-
comfiture of their bowmen, the overthrow of their splendid cavalry among the
concealed pits, and the appearance of what seemed a fresh Scottish army
descending from the Gillie's Hill, gave way on every side, and were pressed and
borne down by the resistless effort of the four Scottish bodies, now united into
one, with the heroic Bruce at their head. But this painting, to which he clung
to the last, and touched and retouched with a dying hand, he did not live to

EEV. CHRISTOPHER ANDERSON. 15

finish. He died at his house in Great King Street, Edinburgh, on February
23, 18j0. As a painter. Sir William Allan will long be gratefully remembered
in the annals of Scottish art, for the impulse which he gave to historical com-
position. For this department he was eminently fitted ; for his excellence in
painting did not so much consist in character and colour, as in his admirable
power in telling a story and his general skill in composition, by which each of
his productions is a striking poetical narrative. Sir Walter Scott, a congenial
spirit, who highly prized and affectionately loved him, was wont to speak of
him under the familiar endearing name of " Willie Allan."

ANDERSON, CHRisTornER, — This excellent divine, who, in spite of
many obstacles by which his career was attended, and his position as minister
of a sect little noticed and scarcely naturalized in Scotland, won for himself a
respected name both as an author and minister, v.'as born in the West Bow of
Edinburgh, on the 19th of February, 1782. His father, William Anderson,
iron-monger in Edinburgh, was not only prosperous in business, but esteemed
for his piety and integrity. Being of delicate health, Christopher was sent in
childhood to Lasswade, where he was reared in a comfortable cottage, and edu-
cated in the village school ; and on his return to his native city, being intended
for business, he was first apprenticed to the trade of an iron-monger ; but not liking
this occupation, he was subsequently entered as junior clerk in a thriving com-
pany called the Friendly Insurance Office. Hitherto he had been of rather a
gay and thoughtless turn of mind, and was attached to those meetings for music
and dancing which, at this time at least, and in such a city as Edinburgh,
could scarcely be attended by the young with impunity; and this, with the reli-
gious training he received at home, produced within him that struggle which
often constitutes the turning-point of the inner and spiritual life. " In the early
part of 1700,"' saj-s his biographer, " when about seventeen years of age, he was
sometimes alarmed at the course he was pursuing, and shuddered at the thought
of where it must end ; but would not allow himself to think long enough on the
Eubject, lest it should cost him those pleasures which he knew to be inconsistent
with a godly life." This state did not continue long. He was in the practice of
attending public worship at the Circus, lately opened by the Independents, and
there the new style of preaching by Mr. James Haldane, the pastor of the church,
as well as that of Rowland Hill, Burder of Coventry, Bogue of Gosport, and
other distinguished Englisli divines who officiated there during their occasional
visits to the north, aroused his inquiries and confirmed his scruples. He aljjured
his former indulgences as incompatible with the Christian life, and joined in
membership with the congregation meeting at the Circus. Scruples soon rose
in his mind upon the views on Christian baptism held by the Scottish Baptist
church, with which he could not wholly coincide, and conceiving that those of
the English Baptist churches were of a more enlarged as well as more scriptural
character, he was baptized into that communion in March, 1801, at the age of
nineteen. A few others of the Circus congregation joined him in this step, and
for this, he and they were excluded from the membership of their church a3
followers of divisive courses, and left to follow their own devices.

To a mind so sensitive, and so much in earnest as that of Christopher Ander-
son, this event was of paramount importance. He had shown his sincerity by
forsaking the allurements of the world, and joining a cause so new and unpro-
mising in Scotland as that of which the Haldanes were the leaders ; and now,
he had made a sacrifice perhaps still greater, by foregoing the privileges of their

16 REV. CHRISTOPHER ANDERSON.

communion, for the sake of certain convictions which he regarded as of Divine
autliority, and therefore not to be concealed or tampered with. He and the few
who had seceded with him, stood solitary aYid apart, altliough surrounded by
thousands of professing Cluistians; andwliile the multitudes crowded to churches
wliere congenial ordinances awaited tliem, their only remedy was to retire to
" an upper room." This they did, and amidst these meetings for mutual prayer
and religious conference, in the absence of a regular ministry, the humble efforts
of Christopher Anderson were peculiarly acceptable to the little flock. The
result was easy to be guessed at ; here was a minister in embryo, as well as the
nucleus of a congregation. Mr. Anderson, indeed, had previously been so far
prepared for the assumption of the sacred office, as to have resolved to devote
liis life to the work of a missionary to India ; but the verdict of his medical
advisers, who convinced him that his constitution was utterly unfit for an Indian
climate, and the growing necessities of that small community with which he Avas
connected, naturally turned his thoughts into another channel. The emer-
gency was evidently at home, and to find his field of labour he had only to
cross his own threshold. With this conviction, he resolved to become the
spiritual pastor of 'the small flock with Avhich he had allied himself; and in so
determining, it is not easy to estimate the full value of the sacrifice. At the
age of twenty-one, he must reverse his habits, commence a life of study, and
encounter the difficulties of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, although he had neither
liking nor natural aptitude for the acquirement of languages. And when all
this was done, he must deliberately devote himself to a life of poverty and self-
denial, for the people of his ministry would in all likelihood be too few and too
poor to afford him that decent subsistence which is justly deemed so essential
to the clerical office. He commenced with the necessary step of relinquishing
his clerkship in the Insurance Office. " Were I to continue in my present
situation," he writes, '• I should in all probability succeed to an income of £300
or £400 a year, but this is of no account in my estimation compared with being
more immediately employed in the service of Christ. '■'■' * * Emolument in this
world I freely forego. The riches of it I neither have nor want ; may I be but
of some service to God before I go to the gravel" He entered the necessary
studies at the university of Edinburgh in 1805, and as his time was brief, and
the case urgent, he attended during a single course the classes of Greek, Logic,
Moral Philosophy, and Chemistry, As it was judged necessary that his theolo-
gical training should be conducted in England, and under the community to
which he belonged, he repaired to Olney, and afterwards to Bristol, in which last
city he attended the Baptist college. The course of education he now under-
went was of that practical kind which the dissenting bodies in England have for
the most part adopted, in which their students are employed in itinerating and
preaching while attending the several classes. In this way Mr. Anderson ac-
quired experience in the duties of his calling over an extensive field of action,
and the acquaintanceship of many of those eminent divines with whom English
dissenterism at this period abounded. As little more, however, than a twelve-
month was occupied with this probation, it may be guessed how few his oppor-
tunities must have been for the study of theology as a science, especially for the
service of such a hard-headed reflecting people as the Scots ; and how much was
still to be learned and acquired by his own unaided application.

In 180G, Mr. Anderson returned to Edinburgh; and having engaged a small
meeting-house, called Richmond Court chapel, he there assembled the littlo

REV. CHRISTOPHER ANDERSON, •17

Hock, who had been waiting for his coming. Still, a congregation was to be
gathered, for wliile on tlie forenoons of Sabbath his stated audience mustered
from fifty to seventy persons, those in the evenings, when cliapels in Edinburgli,
as elsewhere, are commonly crowded, were not above two or three hundred
hearers. As for the real congregation who would have joined in membership
out of this miscellaneous assemblage, they did not amount to more than fourteen
or fifteen. " I cannot as yet decide," he writes in this state of matters, " as to
whether it would be my duty to settle here for life. A sphere of usefulness is
wliat I desire, and it still must require time to ascertain whether it is such a
sphere. I think another winter will show me how I ought to proceed, if it does
not appear sooner." This hesitation on account of the doubtful state of affairs
was increased by the avowed wish of many of his friends in England to secure his
services among them as their pastor. At length he received a regular call from
jiis congregation to be their minister at the close of the year, and although it
was signed by only thirteen persons, he felt it his duty to comply, and his
ordination took place on the 21st January, 1808. Thus brought to a decision,
he laboured with diligence and faithfulness; and although slowly, the cause to
which he had engaged himself continued to grow and prosper, so that in ten
years the handful over which he originally presided had swelled into an attend-
ance too numerous for the small chapel to contain. In 1818 he accordingly
moved from Richmond Court to Charlotte chapel, a larger building, formerly be-
longing to the congregation of Bishop Sandford, which he purchased, and altered
to his own taste and convenience. While his ten years' labours had been so
successful, his cares had not been exclusively confined to the city of Edinburgh.
Ilis missionary zeal, through which he had originally devoted himself to the
ministerial work, still continued unabated ; and although he could no longer
hope to traverse the opposite side of the earth in the conversion of Hindoos
and Parsees, he found that there were people within the limits of the four seas
equally benighted, and in need of his apostolic labours. The success, too, which
had attended the evangelistic enterprises of the Haldanes and John Campbell
in Scotland, encouraged him to follow their example, more especiallj^ as a lull
had succeeded, so that the good work needed to be renewed. With all this he
had been impressed so early as the period of his ordination; and, on accepting
the ministry of the congregation of Richmond Court chapel, he had stated to
them his purpose of itinerating from time to time as a preacher in his own
country and in Ireland. Accordingly, his first tour for this purpose Avas to
Perthshire, in March, 1808, and his second to Ayrshire soon after. In August
und September of the same year, he made a preaching tour through Ireland ;
and in 1810 another in the north of Scotland as far as Dingwall. Finding,
however, that the length and frequency of these journeys were likely to be preju-
dicial to the interests of his own congregation in Edinburgh, he organized a home
mission for the support of a few itinerants in the Highlands, the expense of which,
in the first instance, and the responsibility in after years, rested wholly upon him-
self. This society, which existed for seventeen years, and was productive of great
benefit to the more remote districts of the Highlands, had found in Mr. Ander-
son so generous a benefactor, notwithstanding the limitation of his means, that
at the closing of its accounts, his pecuniary advances to it as secretar}--, amounted
to £240, independently of his periodic liberal donations. The sum above-men-
tioned was a fourth of the society's whole expenditure. A still more distin-
guished achievement was his originating the Edinburgh Bible Society, the plan

V, c

18 ' REV. CHRISTOPHER ANDERSON.

of wliicli he adopted from that of the British and Foreign Bible Society, He
had visited London in IMay, 1809, and being struck with the efficiency of the
parent society, and tlie harmony which it promoted among the various divisions
of Christians by wliom it was supported, he was anxious to form a similar insti-
tution for Scotland, which he happily accomplished in 1310.

Although a minister of the smallest, the latest, and the least influential of
all the sects in Scotland, Mr. Anderson was now acquiring note and influence
in the religious world, which, however, he valued only as the incentive to fur-
ther action, and the means of opening a wider sphere of Christian effort. He
was, therefore, encouraged to enter a new field — that of authorship, by pub-
lishing a " Memorial on behalf of the native Irish, with a view to their im-
provement in moral and religious knowledge through the medium of their own
Language." This work, originally a small pamphlet, the result of his observa-
tions during a prolonged tour in Ireland in 1814, afterwards expanded into a
duodecimo volume. Another similar effort was in behalf of the High-
lands. At the meeting of the Edinburgh Bible Society, on the 22d of March,
1819, he laid upon their table a MS,, entitled, a "Memorial respecting the
diffusion of the Scriptures, particularly in the Celtic or Iberian Dialects."
This statement deservedly elicited the following resolution of the society't;
committee: — "As the facts contained in these pages are such as should come
before the eye of the public, and must he of service for some time to come,
in regulating, as well as increasing, the zeal of those who desire the general
diffusion of the Word of God throughout our native country ; that the manu-
script be returned to j\Ir. Anderson ; that he be requested to prepare the same
for the press and immediate circulation, and that the first copy of this memorial
be transmitted to London, for the committee of the British and Foreign Bible
Society." The commission Mr. Anderson gladly fulfilled ; and, after the pub-
lication of his work on this subject, the diffusion of Irish and Gaelic Bibles
from the stores of the British and Foreign Bible Society was be3^ond all formei"
precedent. Before this, however, he had made every effort that such a boon
should not be useless, by having the poor Highlanders taught to read. His
tour throughout their country, and especially beyond the Grampians, in 1810,
had shown him not only the spiritual, but intellectual destitution of the people,
while his benevolent heart was impatient until a fit remedy was applied.
Accordingly, as soon as he returned from his tour, he opened a correspondence
with Mr. Charles, of Bala, the originator of the "Circulating Day-Schools" in
Wales; and having learned from him the educational plan pursued in that
principality, and the benefits with which it was attended, he sav/ its fitness for
the Highlands of Scotland, Avhere the population was still more widely scat-
tered. To draw out a benevolent plan, and proceed to execute it, was one and
the same act with Mr. Anderson, and accordingly he convened a meeting of the
friends of the Highlands, in tlie Edinburgh Exchange Coffee-house, presented
his views and proposals, and was rewarded by seeing them carried into effect
by the formation of "The Caledonian Society for the Support of Gaelic Schools,"
afterwards called "The Gaelic School Society." To this interesting institution
his paternal cares were devoted for several years until it was firmly established,
by an annual journe}'- through the Highlands, for the inspection of schools, and
attending to the applications made for schoolmasters.

The condition of Ireland once more occupied Mr. Anderson's attention, and,
in 1814, he again made a missionary tour in that island. On his return, he

published on the following year, a " Memorial in behalf of the native Irish."
The effect of this work was startling : such was the amount of new information
which he produced on the subject, the force and truthfulness with which he
detailed it, and the cogency of his reasoning and appeals in behalf of unhappy
benighted Ireland, that several benevolent societies in behalf of its people owed
tlieir origin to this production, while other similar societies, already in existence,
were taught from it to alter and improve their rules according to the real state
of circumstances. As this work was solely in reference to the education of the
Gaelic speaking Irish, he found it necessary to write a second upon the subject
of preaching, and this he did in 1819, by his "Diffusion of the Scriptures in the
Celtic or Iberian Dialects," afterwards enlarged by many additions into a volume,
entitled " The Native Irish and their Descendants." Until these works were
published, the British public was not generally aware that of the 19G islands com-
posing part of Ireland, 140 of these, inhabited by 43,000 souls, were in a miserable
state of spiritual destitution and wretchedness. The length of interval thatoccurred
between these publications was too mournfully filled up, as the follovv-ing extract
from one of his letters to his talented and distinguished correspondent, Charlotte
Elizabeth, will sufficiently explain: "But why, you will say, were the Sketches
of 1828 so long delayed ? Ah ! that is a tender question; but since you also
have been in affliction, and apparently much of it, I feel the less reserve, and
can therefore go on. Did you observe a book advertised at the end of the
Sketches? If you have ever chanced to see it, the dedication will explain more
than I can now repeat, and yet it does not explain the whole. A beloved wife
and three much-loved daughters are there mentioned ; but ah 1 my friend, this
was not the end. Two sons survived— but they also are gone, and the father
to whom they were so much attached was left to plough the deep alone. But
no, I am not alone, for the Father is with me, and I am often, often, a wonder
to myself. The truth is, these two volumes, particularly the first, were com-
posed amidst many tears — often fled to in order to keep the mind from falling
to staves, and the Lord Jesus himself alone hath sustained me. The first volume
was never read by the parties to whom it is dedicated ; and as for the second, I
often yet see my last, my beloved sole survivor, only four and a-half years of
age, running into the room, and saying: 'And are you writing to the poor Irish
yet, papa?' 'Yes, love, I am writing for them.' 'Oh, you are writing /or
tliem ! ' "

The pressure of these numerous and heavy domestic bereavements, which
his sensitive heart felt so keenly, that at their height they had suddenly
whitened his hair and furrowed his brow with the premature tokens of old age,
compelled him gradually to withdraw from the toil of public business, and betake
himself more closely to the retirement of his study. It was not, however, for
the sake of indulging in melancholy, or even in literary indolence, for his work,
entitled " The Domestic Constitution," was written during his attendance on the
sick-chamber, and finished after his third visit to the family grave. Of this
volume a new edition was subsequently prepared, with the foUov/ing enlarged
title, by which its bearing is better understood: "The Domestic Constitution; or,
The Family Circle the Source and Test of National Stability." But the chief
subjects of his study and research during the remaining period of his life, were
the materials for his principal production, " The Annals of the English Bible.''
This voluminous work, like many in similar cases, originated in a single and
temporary effort. The third centenary of Coverdale's translation of the Bible

20 r.EV. CHRISTOPHER ANDERSON.

having- occurred in J 835, Mr. Anderson preached upon this suhjec*" '^^ *"^ '^'"
of October; and as lie had made it for some time his particular sti'".>^' "^^ ''^^*
torical facts he adduced in the pulpit were so new, and withal sc' mteresluio;
to most of his hearers, that they earnestly requested him to publish ^'^^ sermon.
It was printed accordingly, under the title of "The English ScriP*"^^'^^' their
First Reception and Effects, includingMemorials of Tyndale, Fritl^' ^^overdale,
and Rogers." So cordial was its reception by the public, that he w.^^ advised to
prepare an enlarged and improved edition ; but on resuming his ij^vestigations
for this purpose, new fields successively arose before him, so thaf ^^^ merely
days, but whole years, were finally needed for the task. In this ^'^'^Y^ many a
pamphlet has unexpectedly expanded into a folio. The very diffi(^^"^^^' "°'^^'"
ever, as they grew and multiplied, only endeared the task to the '^^^^'^ ^t Mr.
Anderson, and stimulated his enterprise, so that after he had fair^ embarked
in it, the great purpose of his life seemed to be unfulfilled until " ^^^^ fully
and fairly finished. He had previously, indeed, contemplated a hist'^'^'3^ ^' ^^' ^'^^
translations of the Bible that had been made previous to the ninetee'^^'^ century;
but as this would have involved the history of almost every count'*^' ^^^'^ oeen
too much for any one mind to overtake, he contented himself with *"^ English
department of the subject, which he soon found to be ample encf^S^- rrom
1837 to 1045 all his studies were devoted to it, while his researcl^^^ extended
through the library of the British Museum, the Bodleian at Oxfo^'*^' _ ^® *-^"^"
versify library and others at Cambridge, the Baptist Museum at -"''istol, and
many private libraries and collections, from whose stores he filled w'^*'^^ volumes
of note-books, Avhich he arranged and turned to account in his sti^"^ ^^ home,
after each pilgrimage of research. The result was a most volumii*''"^ publica-
tion, which the impatience of the general reading public scarce ^^ cared to
encounter, and therefore, when it appeared, the demand for it w'^^' ^® ^^ ^^^
still continued to be, extremely incommensurate with its merits and importance.
But still, the "Annals of the Bible" is one of those works whr*'^^ possess a
strong and lasting, though silent and unobtrusive, influence. Upof ^ most im-
portant subject it has gathered together those materials that h'"^^^'^*^ "^'^^^
scattered over the whole range of English history and antiquarianis™' ^'^^ ^y^^
only to be met with incidentally; and it serves as a store-house to th^ theologian,
in Avhich he finds ready to his hand what would otherwise have co^* _ "^^ ^vho.e
days or weeks of tiresome investigation. In this way, it will continue to be
reproduced in a variety of forms, and be conveyed through a thousan*^ channels or
religious public instruction, where even the name of the work itselr, and its
diligent meritorious author, are either passed without mentioii' ^^" utterly
forgot.

Amidst all these labours as an intinerant preacher, founder and secietaiy ot
religious societies, correspondent of foreign missionaries, and ef""^® pains-
taking author, Mr Anderson's diligence as a minister continued un^"^''^'^ 5 and
it was rewarded by the increase of his little flock into a numerous fOng^'egation,
and the esteem of the most eminent religious characters in B^'"^"^ ^^ ^^'■
the different denominations. Annoyances, indeed, not a few he had^*'^ encounter
among his own people during the decline of life, when the love of change liad
introduced new men and new measures among them ; but into th('^^ congrega-
tional misunderstandings we have no desire to enter, not only as "^^^ "^^'^^'^ ^'^
recent, but so exclusively confined to the denomination among '"'hom they
originated. They were sufficient to darken his closing days with sorrow, and

JOHN ARMSTRONG. 21

make him complain of the ingratitude of those to whom his life and labours
had been devoted. But still the promise given to the righteous was verified
in his case, for his end was peace. He died at Edinburgh on the 18th of
February, 1852, within a single day of completing the seventieth year of his age.
ARMSTRONG, John, of Gilnockie.— In the history of every country, how-
ever renowned, there is a period when its best men, or at least those who were
reckoned so, were nothing but robbers or pirates. And yet they became tlie
demigods of the country's worship, the heroes of its most cherished traditions,
or the founders of its most illustrious families. It is not necessary to go so far
back as the expedition of the Argonauts, or the exploits of Romulus, for an
illustration of this great general fact. Later periods, and events more closely
connected with ourselves, show, that such was also the case in Britain, so that,
however edifying, it would be no very grateful task to investigate the characters
of those men who "came in with William the Conqueror," or detail the
doings of those who were the ancestors of our border nobility. But these men
were needed in their day and generation, and they merely took the lead in that
congenial society amidst which their lot had been cast. It was not wonderful,
therefore, that their exploits should have been so highly admired, and their
names so affectionately remembered. With these remarks we think it necessary
to premise our introduction to the reader of such a man as John Armstrong,
a mere border freebooter; and we introduce him the more readily, as he was
the choice type and specimen of a class of men with whom Scotland especially
abounded, and who continued to flourish in rank abundance, from the com-
mencement of the war of Scottish independence against Edward I., to the Union
of the two kingdoms, when the strong hand of the law could be extended over
the whole island to quell or exterminate the turbulent, and reduce all to a com-
mon rule.

The name of Armstrong, like many others, was p;obably at first nothing
more than a nickname. The race who bore it inhabited a large part of Liddes-
dale, and that territory called the Debatable Land, lying between the rivers
Sark and Esk. This Debatable Land, as its name may intimate, was claimed
by both kingdoms — a misfortune of which the Armstrongs seem to have fre-
quently availed themselves, by plundering the people of both countries indif-
ferently', and thus reaping a double harvest. As they were very numerous, their
retainers extended far along the banks of the Liddel, in which the several cap-
tains of the clan sought, not a home, but a mere shelter from the enemies they
provoked; and when these recesses could no longer defend them, they took refuge
among morasses and swamps, the secure by-ways to which were only known to
themselves, and where they could safely laugh at the pursuer. In conse-
quence of their inroads upon English and Scots, they were finally proclaimed
a broken clan, and were outlawed both by England and Scotland ; but at the
time of which we write, they were under the command of a chief called Arm-
strong of Mangertoun. John, the hero of the family, was a younger brother
of Christopher Armstrong, its chief, and had his strong-hold at the Hollows,
within a few miles of Langholm, where the ruins of the tower are still visible.
To have acquired such a band of followers as rode at his bidding, and become
so terrible to his enemies, as well as endeared to his friends, implies no
small portion of courage, hardihood, and skill, manifested by many a border
inroad. These achievements, unlike those of Robin Hood, appear to have passed
away, having no gleeman to chronicle them to posterity ; but such was their

22 JOHN ARMSTRONG.

effect, that bis name was terrible over the Northiimberhxnd boider, and well
nigh to the gates of Newcastle, while for many miles the country v/as glad to
pay him black mail, as the price of his protection or forbearance. It is grati-
fying, however, to find, that John was a stauncli patriot after a fashion of his
own, and that all the harm he wrought was against the enemies of his country.
Such, at least, was his declaration to the king in the ])allad that narrates his
death ; and it was not likely to have been attributed to him without some well-
known foundation in fact : —

'' England suld have found mo meal and mault,
Gin I had lived this hundred reh'!

" Sche suld have found me meal and mault.

And beif and mutton in all plcntio ;

But never a Scots wife could have said.

That o'er I skaithcd her a pure flee."

When James V. had emancipated himself from the thraldom of the Douglasses,
and effected the downfall ot that powerful family, he next turned his attention
to those border chiefs who were every whit as dangei'ous. If Scotland was
to be brought abreast with the other nations of Europe, and enabled to keep
pace with them in that march of improvement which had now commenced, the
existence of these men was incompatible with such a purpose. The king was
well aware of this, and he resolved by the most summary measures either to break
their power, or sweep them from his path. The plan heado2:)ted to accomplish
this was highly daring and picturesque. He issued a summons to all his earlsj
lords, barons, freeholders, and gentlemen, to assemble at Edinburgh witli a
month's provisions, and bring with them their best dog-s, for a royal hunting
expedition in the bounds of Teviotdale and Annandale. But it was intended to
be a hunt in the fashion of Nimrod, and this John Armstrong was soon to
experience. The royal cortege amounted to at least 10,000 men, and eighteen
Ecore of deer had already been struck down ; but the " stag of ten " was still
free and at large. The difficulty now was to bring Armstrong within their
reach. He was therefore prevailed upon by some of the chief of the royal fol-
lowers to wait upon the king, with the assurance that such a visit would be
attended with no danger; and, without stipulating for pass or safe-conduct, he
came in such a style of splendour as few border nobles could have equalled.
Fifty well-horsed gentlemen, we are told, rode in his train, whose gallant bear-
ing was well set off by the richest apparel and ornaments; and the king,
unprovided for such n coming, and astonished at its splendour, imagined that
nt least some high dignitary of England, or foreign ambassador, was approaching
his presence. He therefore bowed, and raised his plumed cap to the laird of
Gilnockie; but no sooner did he imderstand that this was no other than the
prince of border thieves, than he turned to his courtiers, and exclaimed in a
burst of v/rath and rhyme — •

" What wants yon knave,
That a king should have ? "

Armstrong soon perceived that he had not only approached the roj-al presence
uninvited, but was to be made the victim of ro^'-al resentment. His train was
unarmed, and retreat was impossible. He then had recourse to such offers for
the ransom of himself and his followers, as give us a wondrous idea of his power
and resources. The chief of these were, that he would su'iport himself and forty

JOANNA. BAILLIE. 23

gentlemen for the king's service, and never take a penny from Scotland or
a Scottish man; and that tliere was not a subject of England, duke, earl, lord,
or baron, but -within a certain day he would bring him to his majesfc^^ either
alive or dead. But to every offer the king was inflexible, so that Armstrong,
seeing there was no further hope, drew himself up proudly, and exclaimed, "I am
but a fool to seek grace of a graceless face. But had I known, sir, that you
would have taken my life this day, I should have lived upon the Borders,
in despite both of j'ou and King Harry; for I know that King Harry Avould
down-weigh my best horse with gold, to know that I was condemned to die
this day."

This singular interview between the stern royal justiciary and the border
freebooter, ended in the execution of the latter and his gallant retinue. The
place at which it occurred v/as called Carlenrig Chapel, about ten miles above
Hawick, on the high road to Langholm ; and so much was the deed abhorred,
that the growing trees on which they were hanged were declared by the common
people to have withered away. After execution, the bodies were buried in a
deserted church-yard, where their graves are still pointed out to strangers. The
ballad from which we have already quoted, shows the undue national importance
that was attached by the common people to his death ; but it evinces also, that
on more than one occasion he had done his country good service :—

" John murdered was at Carlinrigij,
And all his gallant cumpanie ;
But Scotland's heart was ne'er sae vvao.
To see sae mony brave men die

" Because thoy saved their country dcir,
Frae Englishmen. Nane were sae baidd,
Whylo Johnic lived on the Eordor syde,
Xane of them durst cume near his haulJ. "

Pitscottie, a still better authority, thus sums up the bold borderer's history :• —
"After this hunting, the king hanged John Armstrong, laird of Giluockiej
which many Scottish men heavil^^ lamented; for he was a doubted man, and as
good a chieftain as ever was upon the borders, either of Scotland or of England.
And albeit he was a loose-living man, and sustained the number of twenty-four
well-horsed, able gentlemen with him, yet he never molested no Scottish man.
But it is said, from the Scottish border to Newcastle of England, there was not
one of whatever estate but payed to this John Armstrong a tribute to be free of
his cumber, he was so doubted in England." It is only necessary to add, that
his descendants continue to the present day, and feel a justifiable pride ia the
good qualities of their border ancestor.

B

BAILLIE, JoAXNA, authoress of " Plays on the Passions," and various other
dramatic works and poems, was born on September 11, 1762, in the manse of
Bothwell, in Lanarkshire. Her father. Dr. James Baillie, the minister of that
parish, and subsecpently professor of divinity in the University of Glasgow,

24

JOANNA BAILLIE.

sprang from a family allied to that of the celebrated Principal Robert BailUe,
and likewise to that of the Baillies of Jerviswood, memorable in the history
of Scotland. All these lines were derived from the ancient stem of the Baillies
of Lamington. Her mother, also, was one of a race well known in Scottish
heraldry, for she was descended from the Hunters of Hunterston, and was the
sister of William and John Hunter, both renowned in the annals of science.
The children, by the marriage of Dr. James Baillie with Miss Hunter, were
Agnes; Matthew, afterwards the eminent physician; and Joanna, a twin — the
other child being still-born.

The early youth of Joanna Baillie was passed among the romantic scenes of
Bothwell, where every element existed to awaken the fancy of the poet ; but
when she had attained her sixth year, the family removed to Hamilton, to the
collegiate church of v.hich place her father had been appointed. During her
childhood, Joanna Baillie was no proficient in acquirement, yet, nevertheless,
showed much originality and quickness of intellect. She made vei'ses before
she could read, and soon manifested dramatic talent. She took every oppor-
tunity of arranging among her j^oung companions tlieatrical performances, in
which her power of sustaining characters was remarkable, and she frequently
wrote the dialogue herself. She Avas also conspicuous for fearlessness of disposi-
tion, which in after years displayed itself in moral courage — a virtue often pro-
minent in her conduct. Notwithstanding the decided tendency of her mind, she
did not become an author till at a later period than is usual with those who are
subject to the strong impulses of genius. In 1778 her father died ; and in 1784,
his widow, with her daughters, having lived for some years at Long Calderwood,
near Hamilton, proceeded to London to reside with her son, who had there
entered on his medical career, and who, upon the death of his uncle. Dr. Wil-
liam Hunter, had become possessed of the house in Great Windmill Street
which the latter had built and inhabited.

It was in this abode that Joanna Baillie, in 1790, first resolved upon publi-
cation, and the result was a small volume of miscellaneous poems, to which she
did not affix her name. These evinced considerable talent, but not the power she
afterwards manifested. In 1798 she gave to the world, also anonymously, her
first volume of dramas, in which the true bent of her genius was fully seen.
This was entitled, " A Series of Plays, in which it is attempted to Delineate the
Stronger Passions of the Mind, each Passion being the subject of a Tragedy and a
Comedy," and these were accompanied by an introductory discourse of some
length, in which dramatic composition was discussed, in which, also, many
original views were announced, together with the peculiar system she proposed
to adopt. Rich though the period was in poetry, this work made a great im-
pression, and a new edition of it was soon required. The writer was sought
for among the most gifted personages of the day, and the illustrious Scott,
with others then equally appreciated, was suspected as the author. The praise
bestowed upon "Basil and De Montfort" encouraged the authoress, and, in 1802,
she published another volume of plays on the " Passions." Although much
objection was made to the opinions she had enunciated in the preface to her
first dramas, and though the criticism from an influential quarter was severe,
she adhered to her purpose, and continued to write on the same plan which
she had at first evolved; for, in 1812, she sent forth another volume of plays
on the " Passions,'' and in 1830, three more volumes of plays, containing some
in prosecution of her primary design, which she thus completed, and some on

DR. ROBERT BALFOUR. 25

miscellaneous subjects. Besides those above-mentioned, during the long period
of her career, she publislied various otiier dramas, and all her writings in this form
exhibit great originality, power, and knowledge of human nature. Her works
also are rich in imagery, and a pure and energetic strain of poetry pervades them.
For the great eflFects she produced she was little indebted to study, of which
her pages bear few indications. The characters she pourtrayed, the stories on
which her plays were founded, and the management of them, proceeded almost
entirely from her own invention. She was the authoress, also, of some poems,
as well as songs, of high merit, among which may be especially mentioned those
well-known favourite Scottish ones entitled, " The bride, she is winsome an'
bonnie," and " It fell on a morning when we were thrang ;" and the lyrical
compositions scattered through her dramas are distinguished by their freshness
and beauty. Some of her plays were represented on the stage, but without much
success. Passion in them is forcibly and faithfully delineated, but without
those startling and effective situations calculated to obtain theatrical triumph.
Unmarried, and dwelling out of London, she had not those opportunities of
frequenting the theatre which are necessary for the production of compositions
popular in representation. It must be remembered, also, that female delicacy
places a limit not only to the exuberance of passion, but also to the choice of
subjects, which interfered both with the force and variety of her plays.

After Joanna Baillie had left Scotland, in 1784, she did not return to her
native land, except for occasional visits. Upon the marriage of her brother, in
1791, with Miss Denman, the sister of the Lord Chief-Justice Denman, Joanna
Baillie, with her mother and sister, passed some years at Colchester, but sub-
sequently settled at Hampstead, near London, where she resided for more than
half a century. Her mother died in 1803, and her sole companion during the
remainder of her life was her sister, whose character, virtues, and claims upon
the affections of the poetess, are beautifully commemorated by her in an address
to Miss Agnes Baillie' on her birth-day. The means of Joanna Baillie were
sufficient for every comfort, and enabled her to see many of the most distin-
guished individuals the great metropolis contained, who, attracted by her high
reputation, her perfect simplicity of manners, and the talent and shrewdness of
her conversation, resorted freely to her home. Sir "Walter Scott was one of her
warmest friends and most ardent admirers, as many passages in his writings
declare. Joanna Baillie was under the middle size, but not diminutive, and
her form was slender. Her countenance indicated high talent, worth, and
decision. Her life was characterized by the purest morality. Her principles
were sustained by a strong and abiding sense of religion, while her great genius,
and the engrossing pursuits of composition, never interfered with her active
benevolence, or the daily duties of life. She died in her house, in Hampstead,
on the 23d day of February, 1851.

BALFOUR, Dr. Robert — This distinguished minister of the Church of Scot-
land, was born in Edinburgh, in April, 1740. He was early trained by his pious
parents to the knowledge and practice of Christianity. He received his education
at Edinburgh, and when only in the twelfth year of his age, came under decidedly
religious impressions, which, joined to the natural amiability of his disposition,
his promising talents, and diligence and success in his studies, gave a peculiar
Interest to his youthful character. When a mere youth, he became a member
of a society which met for religious conversation and prayer. The devotional
tendency of his mind, thus early acquired, was a prominent feature of his clia-

V. D

26 DR. ROBERT BALFOUR.

racter through life. Of his college career no record has been preserved ; bat that
he soon gave indications of the talent which afterwards raised him to eminence,
may be inferred from his having secured the friendship of Dr. Erskine, Lady
Glenorchy, and other distinguished Christians of that day, who formed a high
estimate of his abihties, and entertained sanguine expectations of liis success as a
preacher. In 1774, he was ordained to the ministry of the gospel in the small rural
charge of Lecropt, near Stirling. Here he laboured with much acceptance and
usefulness for five years, not inattentive meanwhile to his personal improvement,
and in his pulpit duties giving no doubtful presages of the professional distinc-
tion and influence to which he Avas destined to rise. In June, 1779, he was
translated to the Outer High Church of Glasgow, then vacant by the removal of
Mr. Randal (afterwards Dr. Davidson) to Edinburgh.

At the time of Dr. Balfour's settlement in Glasgow, evangelical religion was
at a low ebb in the Established Church throughout Scotland, and a blighting
Moderatism was in the ascendant. Dr. Balfour, from the outset of his ministry,
warmly espoused the evangelical cause, which he recommended alike by the
power of his preaching, and by the active benevolence and consistency of his
life. His ministry in Glasgow gave a fresh impulse to the revival and diffusion
of pure and undefiled religion in the west of Scotland. Christian missions were
then in their infancy, and in Scotland met with much opposition from the
dominant party in the Established Church. In the General Assembly of 1790,
missionary enterprise to the heathen was denounced as corrupting the innocence
and happiness'of savage life, and missionary societies as " highly dangerous in
their tendency to the good order of society " in this country. It was on this
memorable occasion that Dr. Erskine, then in his seventy-fifth year, vindicated
the scriptural claims and obligations of missions to the heathen, in a speech
Avhich has become famous for its exordium — " Moderator, rax me that Bible ! "
Dr. Balfour was one of the founders of the Glasgow Missionary Society, which
was established in 1796, a few months after the institution of the London Mis-
sionary Society. He preached a striking sermon at the commencement of tlie
Society, which was one of the few discourses he ventured on publishing; and one of
his last public acts, twenty-two years afterwards, was to sign a circular letter as
its president. The following passage from the discourse just mentioned, bears
testimony to the earnest interest he felt in the missionary cause, and affords an
example of a st^'le of appeal, which, with the aid of his melodious voice, keen
eye, and graceful and fervid elocution, must have proved singularly animating.
After describing the true missionary spirit and character, he proceeded — " We
invite and press all of this description to come forward full of the Holy Ghost
and of faith. We cannot, we will not tempt j'ou with worldly prospects — if you
are right-hearted men according to yoiu* profession, you will not seek great
things for yourselves — you must not think of an easy life — you miist laboin*
hard — you must encounter difficulties, opposition, and dangers ; for these, how-
ever, you are not unprovided. * '" '•* We will follow j'ou with our prayers,
and with every blessing in our power to bestow. But what is of infinitely
greater moment and advantage to you is, that the Lord Jesus, whose religion
you are to teach, will be with you, andthathe is greater than all who can be against
you. Depending, then, on Him alone for your own'salvation, and for the sal-
vation of the heathen, seeking not your own pleasure, profit, or honour, but that
Ive may be glorified in and by you, and by sinners converted from the error of
their way, be not afraid — be strong and of good courage. To all who thus

DR. ROBERT BALFOUR. 27

devote themselves to his service, we most heartily bid God speed. FI3', ye
angels of grace, from pole to pole, and from the rivers to the ends of the earth,
bearing to all men the glad tidings of the everlasting gospel ; stop not in this
bold flight of philanthropy, till you convey to the simple sons of the isles the
knowledge of the true God and eternal life — till you arrest the -wanderings of
the roving savage ^Yith the wonders of redeeming grace — till you dart the beams
of celestial light and love into the dark habitations of ignorance and cruelty —
till you convert the barbarous cannibal to humanity, to Christian gentleness and
goodness. Hasten to the shores of long-injured Africa, not to seize and sell the
bodies of men, but to save their perisliing souls. Follow the miserable captives
to their several sad destinations of slavery, with the inviting proclamation of
spiritual liberty, while you inculcate the strictest duty to their masters. Speed
your way to India, to repay her gold with the unsearchable riches of Christ.
Meet all the high pretensions of the Brahmin religion and literature, and all their
fatal delusions and cruel impositions, with the overpowering evidence of the
Christian as a divine revelation — with the full luminous display of evangelical
truth and holiness. Cease not, till you see the whole earth filled with the know-
ledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the channel of the sea."

Dr. Balfour was "an eloquent man, and mighty in the Scriptures." But
his was not an eloquence which sought its reward in popular applause. It
flowed spontaneously from a heart deeply imbued with love to the Saviour and
to the souls of men. Earnest preaching made earnest listening, and whilst his
reputation in the pulpit continued unimpaired to the close of his life, the fruits
of his ministry were abundant, and his influence extended far beyond the
limits of his own congregation. His preaching was clear and comprehensive ;
textual, luminous, and pointed ; exhibiting a remarkable intimacy with the
varieties of Christian experience, and a profound knowledge of human nature ;
animated with a warm and persuasive earnestness ; faithful and close in apply-
ing the truth ; and exhibiting an exubei-ant flow of appropriate and powerful
expression. All his pulpit addresses bore the impress of the cross ; he preached
Christ and the doctrines of salvation by free grace with simplicity and godly
sincerity. " Those who have listened to him," wrote his attached friend, the
late Dr. Wardlaw, " in his happy moments of warm and passioned elevation,
have heard him pour forth the fulness of an aff'ectionate spirit ; warning, alarm-
ing, inviting, persuading, beseeching; his whole soul thrown into his counte-
nance ; and, in his penetrating eye, the fire of ardent zeal gleaming through the
tears of benignity and love." His preaching engagements were frequent, and
he was always ready to afi'ord his services on every call of public usefulness.
He was not in the habit of writing his discourses at full length, but his pre-
parations for the pulpit were never relaxed. Although not displaying the
plodding habits of the scholar, he kept up his knowledge of general literature,
and cultivated an acquaintance with the works of the best authors in his own
profession. His morning hours were consecrated to study and devotion. He
possessed the power of readily commanding his thoughts in the intervals of
daily occupation, and was in the habit, to use his own expression, of "carrying
about" with him the subjects on which he intended to preach. His stores of
thought and illustration were ample and exuberant, and, being gifted with a
ready uttei-ance, he could on every occasion express himself with ease and pro-
priety. Without the appearance of much labour, therefore, he was able to
appear in the pulpit with a felicity and success to which men of inferior minds

28 DR. ROBERT BALFOUR.

find it impossible to attain after the most laborious efforts. He seldom engaged
in controversy, and did not often obtrude himself upon the notice of church
courts, for the business of which, however, he showed no want of aptitude.
His modesty and humility prevented him from issuing more than a few of his
more public and elaborate productions through the press. An anecdote is related
of him, which illustrates his disinclination to publish, as well as the readiness
with which he could draw in an emergency upon the resources of his richly-
stored mind. On one occasion, after having preached with much acceptance on
the divinity of Christ, he was waited upon by a young man, who, on his own
part and that of two companions, preferred an urgent request that he would
print his discourse, assigning as a reason that it had completely relieved their
minds of doubts which they had been led to entertain on this momentous doc-
trine, and that it was fitted to have the same effect upon the minds of others
similarly situated. On the Doctor expressing his aversion to appear in print,
his visitor entreated the favour of a perusal of the manuscript. In this he was
equally unsuccessful ; for it then appeared that the Doctor, on proceeding to
the church, had found himself — from some unwonted and inexplicable cause —
utterly incapable of recalling the train of thought which had occupied his mind
in preparing for the pulpit ; and at the last moment he was under the necessity
of choosing a new text, from which he delivered the unpremeditated discourse
that had produced such a salutary impression upon the minds of his three
youthful hearers.

The ministrations of Dr. Balfour were not confined to the pulpit ; he laboured
assiduously from house to house, and proved himself a "son of consolation" in
chambers of sickness and death. His philanthropy and public spirit led him
also to take an active interest in every object for the relief and comfort of suffer-
ing humanity. His comprehensive Christian charity embraced all of every name
in Avhom he recognized the image of his Lord and Master. Although himself
conscientiously attached to the Established Church, he exemplified a generous
and cordial liberality towards those who dissented from her communion. Chris-
tians of every persuasion united in esteeming and loving him ; and his praise w^as
in all the churches. When called up to the metropolis in 1798, to preach before
the London Missionary Society, he gave expression to views of Christian catlio-
licity and union, which the organizations of later times have scarcely yet realized :
— " Why," said he, "may not every Christian society, and all denominations of
Christian society, anticipate in their experience and relative situations, and
exemplify to the world that happy state of things which we believe shall take
place at the time appointed of the Father, and shall continue in the world for a
thousand years? Though we cannot agree in all our views of divine truth, and
therefore must have our separate churches to maintain our several distinct pro-
fessions of Christian tenets, I have often thought that we might, with an equally
good conscience, meet occasionally, not only to converse, and pray, and sing
praise, but to eat together the Lord's Supper, in testimony of the faith and pro-
fession of fundamental principles wherein^we are more closely united than we
are by other things removed from one another. * * * O thrice blessed
■day ! God of love, thy kingdom come ! Prince of peace, let thy rest be visible
and glorious ! 0! gracious Divine Spirit, fly like the peaceful dove over the field
bf universal nature, to produce, preserve, promote, and perfect the reign of kind-
ness and of happiness, till misery be banished from the earth, murmurs be
Bilenced, love and gratitude be excited, charity and generosity triumph, and all

DR. ROBERT BALFOUR. 29

things which are on earth be reconciled to God, and to tlie whole world of the
intelligent and moral creation."

His attachment to his congregation, which embraced many godly persons,
was evinced on the occasion of his receiving an offer to be presented to Lady
Glenorchy's chapel in Edinburgh, which he declined, although in a worldly
point of view it possessed considerable advantages over his charge in Glasgow.
!He was alike frank, friendly, and accessible to all classes of his people, and had
always a kind word for the poor. He showed great tact in dealing with the
humbler members of his flock, who sometimes came to the good man with
unreasonable complaints. When the old-fashioned practice of the precentor
reading line by line of the psalm was discontinued, an ancient dame presented
herself to the minister, to express her concern at the innovation, at the same
time gentlj^ reproaching him for departing from a good old custom of our pious
forefathers — a custom, be it remembered, which had been introduced at a time
when few persons in a congregation were able to read. " Oh, Janet," replied the
doctor, in a tone of kindly remonstrance, "I read the psalm, and you sing it-
what's the use of coming over it a third time?" " Ou sir," was the ready
answer, "I juist like to gust my gab wi't ! " In process of time '-repeating
tunes" were introduced in the precentor's desk, and Janet hastened forthwith
to the minister, to lodge her complaint against the profane innovation. " What's
the matter wi ye now?" inquired the doctor, as he welcomed the worthy old
dame into his presence. " The sang tunes, wi' their o'ercomes brocht into the
worship of the sanctuary," quoth she ; "it's juist usin' vain repetitions, as the
heathens do." " Oh dear no, Janet," slyly interposed the doctor, " we juist like
to gust our gabs wi't I "

Dr. Balfour married, in November, 1774, Isabella Stark, daughter of Mr.
Stark, collector of excise at Kirkaldy. She died in October, 1781. In June, 1787,
he married Catherine M'Gilchrist, daughter of Mr. Archibald M'Gilchrist, town-
clerk of the city of Glasgow. She died in May, 1817. These were not the only
instances of domestic bereavement which he experienced in the course of his life.
He preached on the day after the celebration of the Lord's Supper at Dumbarton,
in July, 178G, with an earnestness and solemnity more fervid and impressive
tlian ordinary, as if his mind were under a powerful impulse. On his way
home he received information of the death of a beloved and only son, in cir-
cumstances fitted deeply to wound his heart. Henry, a fine spirited boy, had
been left by his father, then a widower, during an absence of some days, under
the charge of Mr. and Mrs. Denniston of West Thorn, and was accidentally
drowned in the Clyde. After recovering from the first paroxysm of grief oc-
casioned by the heart-rending intelligence. Dr. Balfour hastened to tender his
sympathy to his deeply afflicted friends, whose kindness had been permitted to
prove the innocent cause of involving him and his family in this calamity. This
he did, in the first instance, in a letter of touching pathos and beauty, which
afterwards found its way to the public, and was embodied in a little volume of
" Letters addressed to Christians in Affliction," published in 1817. The death
of his son Archibald took place many years previously, on the day wlien he
preached the sermon by appointment of the Glasgow Missionary Society. His
own death was sudden. On the 13th of October, 1818, Dr. Balfour appeared
to be in his usual health and spirits. In the course of the day he became un-
well while walking out with a friend, and made an effort to return home. But
his illness increasing, he was assisted into a friend's house in George Street,

30 REV. ROBERT BALMER, D.D.

from v.-liich it was deemed imprudent to attempt to remove him. The symptoms
were found to be those of apoplexy. He continued in a state of insensibility till the
evening of the next day, the lith, when he expired. He died in the seventy-first
year of his age and forty-fifth year of his ministry. Of his whole family, only
two daughters survived him: by his first marriage, Isabella, mamed to John
Duncan Esq., merchant, Glasgow, son of his old friend, the Rev. Mr. Duncan
of Alva ; and Margaret, by his second marriage. We cannot better conclude
our brief sketch of the life of this estimable man and eminent minister, than by
the following tribute to his memory by Dr. Chalmers, who, when settled in
Glasgow, ever found a true friend in Dr. Balfour, one perfectly free from all
professional jealousy, and who rejoiced at the progress and success of that great
man's peculiar parochial labours: —

" The pulpit is not the place for panegyric, but surely it is the place for de-
monstrating the power of Christianity, and pointing the eye of hearers to its
actual operation ; and without laying open the solitude of his religious exercises,
without attempting to penetrate into the recesses of that spirituality which, on
the foundation of a living faith, shed the excellence of vii'tue over the whole of
his character, without breaking in upon the hours of his communion with his
God, or marking the progress and the preparation of his inner man for that
heaven to which he has been called, — were I called upon to specify the Christian
grace which stood most visibly and most attractively out in the person of the
departed, I would say that it was a cordiality of love, which, amid all the per-
versities and all the disappointments of human opposition, was utterly unex-
tinguishable; that over every friend who differed from him in opinion he was
sure to gain that most illustrious of all triumphs, the triumph of a charity which
no resistance could quell ; that from the fulness of his renewed heart there
streamed a kindliness of regard, which, whatever the collision of sentiment, or
#hatever the merits of tlie contest, always won for him the most Christian and
the most honourable of all victories. And thus it was that the same spirit which
bore him untainted through the scenes of public controversy, did, when seated
in the bosom of his famil^^ or when moving through the circle of his extended
acquaintanceship, break out in one increasing overflowof good-will on all around
him ; so that, perhaps, there is not a man living who, when he comes to die, will
be so numerously followed to the grave by our bestof all mourners — the mourners
of wounded aff"ection, the mourners of the heart, the mourners who weep and are in
heaviness under the feeling of a private, and a peculiar, and a personal bereavement."

BALMER, Rev. Robert, D.D. — This profound theologian and valued
ornament of the Secession church, was born at Ormiston Mains, in the parish
of Eckford, lloxburghshire, on the 22d of November, 1787. His father, who
was a land-steward, was a man in comfortable though not affluent circumstances,
and Robert's earliest education — besides the ordinary advantages which the
peasantry' of Scotland possessed — enjoyed the inestimable benefit of a careful
religious superintendence, both of his parents being distinguished for piety and
intelligence. The result of such training was quickly conspicuous in the bo}',
who, as soon as he could read, was an earnest and constant reader of the Bible,
while his questions and remarks showed that he studied its meaning be3'ond
most persons of his age. His thirst for general knowledge was also evinced by a
practice sometimes manifested by promising intellectual boyhood — this was the
arresting of every stray-leaf that fell in his way, and making himself master of
its contents, instead of throwing it carelessly to the winds. On the death of

EEV. ROBERT BALMER, D.D. 31

his father, Robert, who, although only ten years old, was the eldest of the
family, on the evening of the day of the funeral, quietly placed the books for
family worship before his widowed mother, as he had wont to do before hi,
departed parent when he was alive. She burst into tears at this touching'
remembrance of her bereavement, but was comforted by the considerate boy,
who reminded her that God, who had taken away his father, would still be a
Father to them, and would hear them — " and, mother," he added, *' we must
not go to bed to-night without worshipping him." Consolation so adminis-
tered could not be otherwise than effectual: the psalm was sung, the chapter
read, and the prayer offered up by the sorrowing Avidow in the midst of her
orphans ; and the practice was continued daily for years, until Robert was old
enough to assume his proper place as his father's representative.

The studious temperament of Robert Balmer, which was manifested at an
early period, appears to have been not a little influenced by his delicate health,
that not only prevented him from joining in the more active sports of his 3'oung
compeers, but jTromoted that thoughtfulness and sensibility by which sickly
boyhood is frequently characterized. The same circumstance also pointed out
to him his proper vocation ; and he said, on discovering his inability even for
the light work of the garden, " Mother, if I do not gain my bread by my head,
I'll never do it with my hands," As to which of the learned professions he
should select, the choice may be said to have been already made in consequence
of his domestic training: he would be a minister of the gospel, and that, too, in
the Secession Church to which his parents belonged. He proceeded to the study
of Latin, first at the parish school of Morebattle, and afterwards that of Kelso,
at the latter of which seminaries he formed a close acquaintanceship with his
schoolfellow, Thomas Pringle, afterwards known as the author of "African
Sketches," which was continued till death. In 1802 Mr. Balmer entered the
University of Edinburgh, and, after passing through the usual course of classi-
cal, ethical, and scientific study, was enrolled as a student in theology in con-
nection with the Associate Synod. Even already he had established for himself
such a respectable intellectual reputation, that his young brethren in preparation
for the ministry received him with more than ordinary welcome. As Dr. Law-
son, the Theological Professor of the Associate S^'nod, lectured only for two
months of each year, at the end of summer and commencement of autumn, Mr.
Balmer, in common with several of his fellow-students, attended the regular
course of theology during the winters at the university of Edinburgh. They
thus availed themselves of the two-fold means of improvement which they
possessed, without any compromise of their principles being exacted in return ;
and the fruits of this were manifest in after life, not only by the highly-supe-
rior attainments of many of the Secession ministry, but the liberal spirit and
kindly feeling which they learned to cherish toward their brethren of the
Established Church, and the afi'ectionate intercourse that often continued between
them to the end. This, however, alarmed some of the elder and more rigid
brethren of the Synod: they thought that this liberality savoured of lukewarm-
ness, and would in time prove a grievous snare ; and, under the impression, an
overture was introduced into the Synod, for the prevention of all such erratic
courses in future. The students of Selkirk, who studied under Dr. Lawson,
took the alarm at this threatened restriction, and the petition and remonstrance
presented by them in vindication was drawn up by Mr. Balmer. Although
some indignation was expressed at the students for the liberty they had thus

33 RtV. ROBERT BALMER, D.D.

taken in addressing the supreme court of their church, the petition was received
by the Synod, and the obnoxious overture dismissed. One of the senior and
leading members observed on this occasion, that he would be sorry to see any
measure adopted which would tend to drive from their body the man who could
write such a paper.

After having finished the four years' course of divinity prescribed by the
Presbyterian Churches of Scotland, it was expected that Mr. Balmer should
apply for license as a preacher. This was the more necessary in the communion
to which he belonged, as the number of its licentiates scarcely equalled that of
the vacant congregations. But, to the surprise of his friends, he held back for
two years, although his delay was attributed to unworthy motives. Already
one of the most promising students of the connection, it was thought that
he demurred from mere pride of intellect, and was unwilling to identify him-
self with a cause which as yet had produced so few men of high mark : others,
who were aware that he had already been advised to pass over to the Estab-
lished Church, and share in its honours and emoluments, imagined that he had
taken the advice to heart, and only waited the fit season for such a step. But
these surmises were as unkind as they were untrue. His ambition went no
higher than to be the humble, useful minister of some country Burgher congre-
gation, while his humility confirmed him in the belief that he Avould have for
his brethren men of still higher attainments than his own. His delay entirely
originated in scruples of conscience. He had thought anxiously and profoundly
upon the subject, and could not wholly admit the formula which he would be
required to subscribe as a licentiate. "On the question," he afterwards said,
" demanding an assent to the Confession and Catechisms, I stated, that to me
these documents appeared so extensive and multifarious as to be disproportioned
to the narrow limits of the human mind ; that I at least had not studied every
expression in them so carefully as to be prepared to assent to it with the
solemnity of an oath ; that I approved of them, however, in so far as I had
studied them ; and that the Presbytery might ascertain, by strict examination,
the amount of my attainments, and treat me accordingly — which of course
they did." His scruples were respected, his explanations in assenting to the
formula admitted, and on the 4th of August, 1812, he was licensed as a preacher
of the gospel by the Associate Presbytery of Edinburgh.

On commencing the great work to which all his studies had been hitherto
directed, and all his life was to be henceforth devoted, Mr. Balmer began under
rather inauspicious circumstances. All are aware how essential certain external
advantages are in the formation of an acceptable and popular preacher, and
how completely a Dissenting preacher depends upon this popularity for his call
to the ministry, and the successful discharge of his duties. But in the graces of
person and manner Mr. Balmer was decidedly wanting. His eyes, from their
weakness, had an unpleasant cast, and his figure was ungainly ; his voice was
monotonous; and his gestures were, to say the least, inelegant. For a person in his
position to surmount such obstacles argued a mind of no ordinary power. And
he did surmount them. Such was the depth and originality of thought, the
power of language, and heart-moving unction which his sermons possessed,
that his growing acceptability bade fair in a short time to convert these defects
into positive excellencies in the eyes of his captivated auditories. In a few
months he received calls from not less tlian four congregations, so tbat he would
have been in a strait to choose, had not the laws of his church provided for such

r.RV. ROBERT BALMER, D.D. 33

doubtful emergencios. Amid such competition, tlie choice devolved upon
the Synod, modified, however, by the personal wishes of the preacher thus
called ; and on Balmer expressing a preference for the congregation at Berwick,
he was ordained its minister on the 23d of IMarch, 181-i.

The life of a Secession minister in a third-rate town affords few points for a
limited memoir. Tliey are also of such a regular monotonous character, that
tlie history of a single month is a sufficient specimen of whole years so occupied.
And yet, while thus employed, Mr. Balmer was neither a dull nor inefficient
workman. He threw the whole of his large intellect and warm heart into his
sacred duties; and while he secured the love of his congregation, his reputation
was silently growing and going onward, imtil, without seeking it, he found
Iiimself a man of high mark and influence in that important segment of the
church universal to which he belonged. And all the while he was continuing
to miprove his faculties, and extend his intellectual resources, for his was not
a mind to rest satisfied with past acquirements, however sufficient they might
be for the present demand. Events also occurred, or were searched out and
found sufficient to keep up that wholesome stir of mind without whicli the best
of duties are apt to become a monotonous task. Among these was the exercise
of his pen in areview of the work of "Hall of Leicester on Terms of Communion,"
which was inserted in two numbers of the Christian Repository of 1817. lie
was also on several occasions a visitor to London, whither he was called on
clerical duty ; and in these southward journeys he enjoyed much " collor|uy
sublime " with Robert Hall, of whom his reminiscences are among the most
interesting that have appeared of that great pulpit orator and theological meta-
physician. He also took a keen interest in tlie union of the two parties of the
Secession Church, known by the names of Burghers and anti- Burghers, wliicli
took place in 1820. This was an event that was dear to his heart, for not only
was he a lover of Christian concord, and the enemy of all infinitesimal distinc-
tions that keep brethren asunder, but he had been born in that union ; for al-
though his father and mother had belonged to the different parties, they had
always lived and acted as those who are completely at one. In 182G he married
Miss Jane Scott, daughter of Mr. Alexander Scott of Aberdeen, and sister of
John Scott, the well known author of "Visits to Paris." In the year following
he was involved — as what minister in Scotland was not more or less involved--
in what is still vividly remembered under the name of the "Apocrypha
Controversy." Mr. Balmer endeavoured on this occasion to reconcile the
contending parties, and was requited by the suspicions of the one, and the
active hostility of the other, for his pains. Such was the fate of not a few at
this time who endeavoured to perform the part of peacemakers. They are
" blessed " indeed— but not of men, and must look elsewhere than to the earth
for their reward. After the Apocryphical, the Voluntary controversy pre-
dominated, in which the Secession, utterly renouacing the Establishment prin-
ciple, which it had hitherto recognized in theory, became thoroughly and com-
pletely a Dissent, by proclaiming the inexpediency and unlawfulness of civil
establishments of religion, and contending for a separation between Church and
State. On this occasion, Mr. Balmer took the part that might have been ex-
pected from his character and situation. He was allied in friendship with many
ministers of the Established Church ; and, in common with many of his brethren,
he was conscious of the fickleness of popular rule. All this was well so long as
the question was left to every man's conscience. But when it swelled into

V. E

34 RiiV. ROBERT BALMER, P.D.

a puLlIc controversy, and when every person was obligeJ to take a side, and
be either the friend or the enemy of Voluntaryism, Mi-. Balmer acted as every
Secession minister did, who still meant to abide at his post, instead of passing over
to the opposite cliurch. He thought tliat the voluntary s^'stem although an evil,
vas the least evil of the two, and tlierefore he became its apologist and advocate.

On the death of Dr. Dick of Glasgow, who for thirteen j^ears had been pro-
fessor of theology in the Associate, and afterwards of the United Associate
Synod, it was resolved to establish three divinity professorships, instead of one.
On this occasion Mr. BaUner's high talents were recognized, by his appointment
in 1834, first to the chair of pastoral theology, and afterwards to that of sys-
tematic theology. Although Glasgow was tlie sphere of his professorship, his
duties called him away from Berwick only two months in the year. The duties
of such a brief session, however, were scarcely less than those of a six months'
course inour well endowed universities. The following is an account of them given
by one of his pupils : — '•' It is not, I presume, necessary to say more of the nature of
his course than that it consisted of five parts — one preliminary, on the Christian
evidences ; one supplementary'-, on Cliristian morals ; the other three consisting
respectively of — topics in Revelation preparatory to the scheme of redemption ;
of the work of the Redeemer ; and of the blessings of redemption. Those
subjects were gone over in a series of lectures, extending over the last three
years of the students' course. Each session occupied eight weeks, and the
number of weekly lectures, each of an hour's length, was five, so that the total
number delivered in a full course was, after every abatement for interruption
and iiTegularity, somewliere below one hundred and twenty. Another hour
daily was somewhat irregularly divided between examinations, or rather oral
lectures, and hearing of the discourses of between forty and fifty students, in
the third and fifth years of their progress, to which was sometimes added an oc-
casional voluntary essay." Of the manner in Avhich these duties were dis-
charged, the same pupil affectionately adds : — " WIio can ever forget the hours
spent in hearing these prelections, or tlie singularly impressive manner of him
l)y whom they were delivered? The simplicity of the recluse student, exalted
into tlie heavenliness of mature saintship — the dignified composure, mixed with
kindly interest— the look of unworldl^^ purity and abstract intelligence, that
more than redeemed the peculiar and unpromising features— the venerable hoary
head, that no one could refuse to rise up and honour— all strongly fixed the eye ;
and then came the full stream of a never-to-be-forgotten voice, monotonous only
in simple and unimportant sentences, but varied in striking cadence through all
the members of an exquisitely balanced period, and now kindling into animation
and emphasis in the glow of argument, now sinking into thrilling solemnity
and tenderness with the falls of devout emotion ; while all the while no play of
look, or fervour of tone, or strange sympathetic gesture, could disturb your
idea of the reigning self-possession and lofty moral dignity of the speaker.
Never had lecturer a more attentive audience. The eagerness of note taking
alone broke the general silence."

When these important labours were finished, Mr. Balmer returned at the end
of each session to Berwick, not for the purpose of rest, however, but to resume
his clerical duties with double vigour. In this way his life went on from year
to year— silent indeed, and overlooked by the world in general ; but who can
trace or fully estimate the effects of such a life upon the generations to come 1
He who in such fashion rears up teachers of religion may live and die unnoticed,

ANDREW BARTON. 35

but never unfelt : his deeds will travel onward, from generation to generation,
even Avhen liis name has iittcrh^ passed away ; he will still live and instruct, in
his pupils, and the disciples of his pupils, though his dust may long ago have
mouldered in the winds. In 1840 Jlr. Balraer received from the university
of St. Andrews the degree of Doctor in Divinity, which was spontaneously con-
ferred upon him by the Senatus, without influence or solicitation. During
the latter j-ears of his life, a controversy v/as agitated in the United Secession,
upon the extent of the atonement, which threatened at one time to rend that
church asunder, and which even yet has not been terminated. In such a case,
it could not be otherwise than that Dr. Balmer, however unwillingly, should
express his sentiments upon the question at issue. This he did, but with such
gentleness and moderation, as to soften the keenness of debate, and increase the
general esteem in which he was held by all parties. After this his season av-
lived in which every theological doubt and difficulty ends in unsvv-erving and
eternal certainty. A short but severe illness, the result of mental anxiety acting
upon a feeble frame — the first and last attack of serious pain and sickness he
had ever felt— ended his life on the 1st of Jul}'-, 1844. This event, however
anticipated from his j-ears and growing infirmities, not only threw his whole
congregation into the deepest sorrow, each individual feeling himself bereaved
of an honoured and affectionate father, but struck with a sudden thrill the ex-
tensive Associate Secession churcli through its whole range in Scotland and
England. Even the funeral of Dr. Balmer was significant of his catholic
liberality and high talents— of one who had lived in Christian peace and love
Avith all, and won the admiration and esteem of all ; for in the town busine.s
was suspended, the inhabitants assembled as if some prince of the land was to be
honoured and bewailed in his death, and the cofPin was followed to the grave by
the ministers of every denomination, both of the English and Scottish Establish-
ment and Dissent, who dwelt in the town and country. A monumental obelisk was
soon after erected over the grave by his affectionate congregation. Two volumes
of his writings have also been published since his death, the one consisting of
Pulpit Discourses, and the other of Academical Lectures, in which the high esti-
mate taken of his talents by the church to which he belonged is full}' justified.
BARTON, Anduew, High Admiral of Scotland. — The fifteenth century was
the great era of maritime adventure and discovery ; and in these it might have
been expected that Scotland would have taken her full share. The troubled
state of the country, however, and the poverty of its sovereigns, prevented the
realization of such a hope. There was no royiil navy, and such ships as were to
be found in the Scottish service were merchant vessels, and the property of
private individuals. Still, there was no lack of stout hardy sailors and skilful
• commanders; and although the poverty of Scotland was unable to furnish those
amiple means that were necessary for remote and uncertain voyages of discovery,
the same cause made them eager to enjoy the advantages of traffic with those
countries that were already known. Another cause of this was the long peace
with England during the reign of Henry VII., so that those daring spirits who
could no longer find occupation in fight or foray by land, were fain to have re-
course to the dangers of another element. The merchant, also, who embark-ed
with his own cargo, was obliged to know something more than the gainful craft
of a mere trader. He was captain as well as proprietor, and had to add the
science of navigation and the art of warfare on sea, to that of skilful bargaining
on shore, and thus, in every variety of ways, his intellectual powers were tried

36 ANDREW BARTON.

and perfected. This was an occupation well fitted to the Scottish mind, in
which it consequently became so pre-eminent, that during the reigns of James
III. and James IV., it seemed a doubtful question whether Scotland or Eng-
land was to bear the '•' meteor flag" of the island ; and of the merchant captains
of this period, the most distinguished were Sir Andrew Wood, of Largo ; Sir
Alexander Mathieson ; William Merrimonth, of Leith, who, for his naval skill,
was called the " king of the sea," and the Bartons.

This Barton family, which for two generations produced naval commanders of
great celebrity, first appeared in Scottish history in 1470. This was in conse-
quence of John Barton, the father of Andrew, having been plundered, and as it has
been added, murdered, by the Portuguese, who at that period were all-prevalent
upon the ocean. The unfortunate mariner, however, had three sons, the oldest of
whom Avas Andrew, all brought up from boyhood in his own profession, and not
likely to allow their father's death to pass unquestioned. Andrew accordingly
instituted a trial in Flanders, where the mui'der was perpetrated, and obtained a
verdict in his favour ; but the Portuguese refusing to pay the awarded penalty,
the Bartons applied to their own sovereign for redress. James accordingly
sent a herald to the king of Portugal ; but this application having also been in
vain, he granted to the Bartons letters of reprisal, by which they were allowed
to indemnify themselves by the strong hand upon the ships of the Portuguese.
And such a commission was not allowed to lie idle. The Bartons immediately
threw themselves into the track of the richly -laden carracks and argosies of
Portugal in their homeward way from India and South America ; and such
was their success, that they not only soon indemnified themselves for their
losses, but obtained a high reputation for naval skill and valour. Among the
lich Indian spoil that was brought home on this occasion, were several Hindoo
and negro captives, whose ebony colour and strange features astounded, and
also alarmed the simple people of Scotland. James IV. turned these singular
visitants to account, by making them play the part of Ethiopian queens and
African sorcerers in the masques and pageants of his court. This was in itself
a trifle, but it gave a high idea of the growing naval importance of Scotland,
when it could produce such spectacles as even England, with all its superior
wealth, power, and refinement, was unable to furnish.

It was not merel}^ in such expeditions which had personal profit or revenge
for their object that the Bartons were exclusively employed ; for they were in
the service of a master (James IV ) who was an enthusiast in naval afluirs, and
who more than all his predecessors understood the necessity of a fleet as the
right arm of a British sovereign. This was especially the case in his attempts
to subjugate the Scottish isles, that for centuries had persisted in rebellion
under independent kinglings of their own, and in every national difficulty bad
• been wont to invade the mainland, and sweep the adjacent districts with fire
and sword. For the purpose of reducing them to complete obedience, James
not only led against them an army in person, but employed John Barton, one
of the three brothers, to conduct a fleet, and invade them by sea. The use of
ships in such a kind of warfare was soon apparent: the islanders retreated from
the royal army, as heretofore, in their galleys, and took refuge among their iron-
bound coasts, but found these no longer places of safety when their fastnesses
were assailed from the sea, and their strong castles bombarded. The chiefs,
therefore, yielded themselves to the royal authority, and from thenceforth lived
in most unwonted submission. While thus the Scottish flag waved over those

ANDREW BARTON.

islands tliat had hitherto been the strongholds of rebellion, another of the
Bartons was employed to vindicate its dignity abroad and among foreigners.
I'his was Andrew, who for some time had held with his brothers the chief
direction of maritime afrairs in Scotland, and been employed in the formation
of a royal navy, as well as in cruises against the rich carracks of Poi'tugal.
The Hollanders, in the true spirit of piracy by which the n7aritime communi-
ties of Europe were at this time inspired, had attacked a small fleet of Scottish
merchant vessels, and not only plundered them, but murdered the crews, and
thrown their bodies into the sea. This outrage, from a people with whom the
Scots were at peace, was not to be tolerated, and Andrew Barton was sent with
a squadron to chastise the offenders. And this he did with a merciless severity
that reminds us of the " Douglas Larder." He captured many of the piratical
ships, and not only put their crews to death, but barrelled their heads in the
empty casks which he found in the vessels, and sent them home to his sovereign,
to prove how well he had discharged his duty.

The time had now arrived, however, when Andrew Barton, after having
made so many successful cruises, was to fall upon the deck where he had so
often stood a conqueror. His death, also, strangely enough, was mainly owing
to the tortuous intrigues of a pontiff, about whom, it is probable, he had heard
little, and cared still less. Julius II. having formed designs of political self-
aggrandizement which a war between France and England would have pre-
vented, was anxious to find the latter sufficient occupation at home, with its
turbulent neighbours, the Scots. Portuguese envoys, therefore, at the Englislr
court represented to Henry VIII. the whole family of the Bartons as pirates,
who indiscriminately plundered the ships of every country ; and they charged
Andrew, in particular, with these offences, and represented how desirable it
would be if the English seas could be rid of his presence. Henry listened to
these suggestions, and, with his wonted impetuosity assented to their fulfil-
ment, although a war with Scotland was at that time the least desiral)le event
that could have befallen him. It has also been alleged by English writers,
that Andrew Barton, in his war against the Portuguese, had not been over-
scrupulous in confining himself to his letters of reprisal, but had also over-
hauled and pillaged English vessels, under the pretext that they had Portuguese
goods on board. Such, at least, was generally believed in England; and the Earl
of Surrey, to whom the naval affairs of the kingdom chiefly belonged, is de-
clared to have sworn that the narrov.- seas should no longer be thus infested,
while his estate could furnish a ship, or his family a son to command it.

The threat of Surrey was not an idle one. He fitted out two men-of-war, one
of them the largest in the English navy, and sent them under the command of
his sons. Lord Thomas Howard, and Sir Edward Howard, afterwards lord high
admiral, to find and encounter the terrible Scottish seaman. They had not long
to seek, for in the Downs they were apprized of his neighbourhood by the
captain of a merchant vessel which he had plnndered on the day preceding.
Barton had just returned from a cruise against the Portuguese, v»itli two ships,
one the Lion, which himself commanded, and the other a small armed pinnace.
When the Howards approached, they hoisted no war signal, but merely put up
a willow wand on their masts, as if they were peaceful traders; but when
Andrew Barton approached, they hoisted their national flag, and fired a broad-
side into his vessel. On finding that he had enemies to deal with, although they
were of superior force, he fearlessly advanced to the encounter. Distinguished

38 ANDREW BARTON,

hy hi3 rich dress, his splendid avmonr of proof, and the gold chain around his
neck, to which was attached a whistle of the same metal, the emblem of his
office as high admiral of Scotland, he took his stand upon the highest part of
the deck, and encouraged his men to fight bravely. The battle commenced,
and continued on both sides with the utmost desperation. One manceuvre of
Scottish naval warfare which Barton used, was derived from an old Roman
practice used against the Carthaginians, although he had, perhaps, never read
their history ; this was, to drop large weights or beams from the yard-arms of
his vessel into that of the enemy, and thus sink it while the two ships were
locked together; but, to accomplish this feat, it was necessary for a man to go
aloft to let the weight foil. The English commander, apprised of this, had
appointed the best archer of his crew to keep watch upon the movement, an 1
shoot every man who attempted to go aloft for the purpose. Tlie archer had
already brought down two Scottish seamen who had successively ventured to
ascend, when Andrew Barton seeing the danger, resolved to make the attempt
himself. As he ascended the mast for this purpose. Lord Howard cried to his
archer, " Shoot, villain, and shoot true, on peril of thy life." " An' I were to
die for it," replied the man despondingl^'-, "I liave but two arrows left." These,
however, he used with his utmost strength and skill. The first shaft bounded
from Barton's coat of proof, but the second entered the crevice of his armour, as
he stretched up his hand in the act of climbing the mast, and inflicted a mortal
wound through the arm-pit. He descended as if unhurt, and exclaimed, "Fight
on, my merry men ; I am but slightly wounded, and will rest me awhile, but
will soon join you again ; in the meantime, stand you fast by the cross of Saint
Andrew ! " He tlien blew his whistle during the combat, to encourage his
followers, and continued to sound it as long as life remained. After his death
the conflict terminated in the capture of the Lion, and also the pinnace, called
the Jenny Pirwen, which were brought in triumph into the Thames. The
Lion was afterwards adopted into the English navy, and was the second largest
sliip in the service, the Great Henry, the first vessel which the English had
expressly constructed for war, being the largest.

Such was the end of Andrew Barton, a bright name in the early naval history
of Scotland. While his death was felt as a great national calamity, it vi^as parti-
cularly affecting to James IV., whose nautical studies he had directed, and
whose infant navy he had made so distinguished among the European maritime
powers. Rothesay herald was instantly despatched to London, to complain o£
this breach of peace, and demand redress ; but to this appeal Henry VIIL
arrogantly replied, that Barton was a pirate, and that the fate of pirates ought
never to be a subject of contention between princes. Here, however, the matter
was not to rest. Robert Barton, one of Andrew's brothers, was immediately
furnished with letters of reprisal against the English ; and thus commissioned,
he swept the narrow seas so effectually, that he soon returned to Leith with
thirteen English prizes. War by sea between England and Scotland was soon fol-
lowed by war by land, and in the letter of remonstrance and defiance to Henry,
VIII., with whicii James preceded the invasion of England, the unjust slaughter
of Andrew Barton, and the capture of his ships, were stated among the principal
grievances for which redress was thus sought. Even when battle was at hand,
also. Lord Thomas Howard sent a message to the Scottish king, boasting of his
share in the death of Barton, whom he persisted in calling a pirate, and adding,
that he was ready to justify the deed in the vanguard, where his command

SIR CHARLES BELL. 39

lay, and where he meant to show as little mercy as he expected to receive.
And then succeeded the battle of Flodden, in which James and the best of the
Scottish nobility fell; and after Flodden, a loss occurred which Barton would
rather have died than witnessed. Tills was the utter extinction of the Scottish
fleet, which was allowed to lie rotting in the harbours of France, or to be
trucked away in inglorious sale, like common firewood. From that period,
Scotland so completely ceased to be a naval power, that even at the time of the
Union, she not only had no war vessels whatever, but scarcely any merchant
ships — the few that lay in her ports being chiefly the property of the traders of
Holland ; — and full three centuries have to elapse before we find another dis-
tinguished Scottish seaman in the naval histor}-- of Great Britain.

BELL, Sir Charles, was born at Edinburgh in 1774. His father was a
minister of the Scottish Episcopal Church, and held a small living at Doune,
in the county of Perth. As the minister died while still young, his family,
consisting of four sons, were thrown upon the maternal care ; but this, instead
of being a disadvantage, seems to have produced a contrary effect, by the early
development of their talents, so that they all attained distinguished positions
in society, the first as a writer to the signetj the second as an eminent sui-geon,
and the third as professor of Scots Law in the University of Edinburgh.
Charles, the youngest, Avas less fiivourably situated than his brothers for a com-
plete education, but his own observation and natural aptitude supplied the
deficiency. " My education," he tells us, " was the example of my brothers."
The care of his mother did the rest, so that her youngest and best-beloved
child at last outstripped his more favoured seniors, and his grateful remem-
brance of her lessons and training continued to the end of his life. Tlie history
of such a family justifies the saying Avhich the writer of this notice has often
heard repeated by a learned professor of the University of Glasgow: "When
I see," he said, " a very talented youth who makes his way in the world, I do
not ask, \Vlio was his father, but, Who was his mother?" On being removed
to the High School of Edinburgh — where, bj' the wa^', he made no dis-
tinguished figure — Charles was cliiefiy under the charge of his brother, Jolni,
subsequently the eminent surgeon, and it was from him that he derived that
impulse which determined his future career. He studied anatomy, and such
was his rapid proficiency, that even before he had reached the age of man-
hood, he was able to deliver lectures on that science, as assistant of his brother,
John, to a class of more than a hundred pupils, In 1799, even before he was
admitted a fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh, he published
the first part of his " System of Disoections." Longing, however, for a wider
field of action, and disgusted with the medical controversies which were carried
on in Edinburgh, he removed to London in 1804, and threw himself into the
arena of the British metropolis. It was a bold step ; for at this time, owing to
political causes, a Scotsman of education was regarded with suspicion and dislike
in this favourite field of Scottish adventure, and Charles Bell, like the rest of
his countrymen, was looked, upon as an interloper come to supplant the true
children of the English soil. But he bravely held onward in his course, and
won for himself the esteem of influential friends, the chief of whom were Sir
Astley Cooper and Dr. Abernethy, and he soon extended the circle by his
treatise on the "Anatomy of Expression," which was published in London in
1806. It was a work so admirably suited for painters, in their delineations of
human feeling and passion, that the most distinguished artists of the day

40 SIR CHARLES BELL.

adopted it for their text-book, and were loud in their encomiums of its merits.
Still, however, this was but the foundation-stone of his future distinction. Bell
had determined to be " chief of his profession in character," and to attain this
darin"- height much had to be surmounted. He commenced as a public lecturer,
but upon a humble and disadvantageous scale, as he was still an alien in Lon-
don; and his early discoveries upon the nervous s^-stem, which he was patiently
maturing, as his future hi2;hest claims to distinction, were as yet but little
esteemed by the public, and would be compelled to force their way slowly into
notice, if they should ever chance to be noticed. In 1807, the same year in
which he commenced his course of lectures, he published his "System of
Operative Surgery," a work where all the operations described in it were the
result not of mere theory or reading, but of personal experience.

It was amidst this disheartening amount of unthankel, unappreciated toil
and disappointment that Charles Bell sought a comforter of his cares ; and in
1811 he married IMiss Shaw, ^Yho not only justified his choice, but made him
brother-in-law to two men whose pursuits were congenial to his own. These
svere John and Alexander Shaw, whom his lessons and example raised into
distinguished anatomists and physiologists, while the latter ultimately became
the most effective champion of his preceptor's claims to originality in his phy-
siological and anatomical discoveries. Bell's darkened horizon now began to
clear, and his wortli to be properly estimated. In 1811, the happy year of his
marriage, after he had long remained unconnected with any medical school or
association, he was allied to the Hunterian School in Windmill Street, as joint
lecturer with Mr. Wilson. The extent of his knowledge and power of illus-
trating it, exhibited in his prelections, and the happy facility of demonstration
and expression which he had always at command, soon made his lectures popu-
lar, so that in 1814 he was appointed surgeon to the Middlesex Hospital; and
here his remarkable skill as an operator, combined with his style of lecturing,
which, although not eloquent, was full of thought very strikingly expressed,
made him a favourite both Avith patients and pupils. The result of his labours
there, which continued till 1836, enabled him to make the honest boast at his
departure, that he had left the institution, which at his entrance was but of small
account, " with full wards, and £120,000 in the funds."

As the whole of the preceding period, up to the date of Napoleon's banisli-
ment to St. Helena, had been a season of war, the professional talents of Bell
had been in request in our military hospitals, and upon the Continent, as well
as in London, so that in 1809, immediately-- after the battle of Corunna, he
quitted the metropolis, to attend upon the wounded of the British army. Here
his opportunities of acquiring fresh knowledge were eagerly embraced, and the
result of his experience was an essay on gun-shot wounds, which appeared as an
appendix to his "System of Operative Surgery," published in 1807. After the
battle of Waterloo, he also repaired to Brussels, and took the charge of an hos-
pital ; and here he was engaged for three successive days and nights in operating
upon and dressing the Avounds of three hundred soldiers. Of these cases he made
various drawings in water-colouring, which are reckoned among the best speci-
mens of such productions in our anatomical school. The following extracts of
a letter which he wrote from Brussels to his brother, the distinguished barrister
in Edinburgh, will give a clear idea of the occupations of Charles Bell in this
labour, which he so kindly and gratuitousl}-^ undertook, as well as of the men
who were now his patients: — "I have just returned from seeing the French

SIR CHARLES BELL. 41

wounded received in their hospital ; and could you see them laid out naked, or
ahnost so— one hundred in a row of low beds on the ground — though wounded,
exhausted, beaten, you would still conclude with me that they were men capable
of marching unopposed from the west of Europe to the east of Asia: strong, thick-
set, hardy veterans, brave spirits and unsubdued, as they cast their wild glance
upon you— their black eyes and brown cheeks finely contrasted with the fresli
sheets — you would mucli admire their capacity of adaptation. These fel-
lows are brought from the field after lying many days on the ground; many
dying — many in the agon^' — many miserably racked with pain and spasms;
and the next mimics his fellow, and gives it a tune — Aha, vous chantcz bien !
How they are wounded you will see in my notes. But I must not have you
to lose the present impression on me of the formidable nature of these fellows
as exemplars of the breed in France. It is a forced praise ; for from all I have
seen, and all I have heard of their fierceness, cruelty, and blood-thirstiness, I
cannot convey to you my detestation of this race of trained banditti." The
following picture which the letter contains of their enemies by whom they
were opposed, is equally striking: — " This superb city is now ornamented with
tlie finest groups of armed men that the most romantic fancy could dream of.

I was struck with the words of a friend, E : ' I saw,' said he, Hhat man

returning from the field on the 16th — (this was a Brunswicker, of the Black
or Death Hussars): — he was wounded, and had his arm amputated on the field.
He was among the first that came in. He rode straight and stark upon his
horse — the bloody clouts about his stump — pale as death but upright, with a
stern, fixed expression of feature, as if loth to lose his revenge.' These troops
are very remarkable in their fine military appearance ; their dark and ominous
dress sets off to advantage their strong, manly northern features and white
mustachios; and there is something more than commonly impressive about the
whole eiFect." After this account, the writer returns to his professional occu-
pations. "This," he adds, "is the second Sunday after the battle, and many
are not yet dressed. There are 20,000 wounded in this town, besides those in the
hospitals, and the many in the other towns — only 3000 prisoners ; 80,000, they
say, killed and wounded on both sides."

The time at length arrived when Bell was to acquire that full amount of re-
putation for which he had toiled so long and laboriously, and amidst such un-
mei-ited neglect. From an early period his favourite subject of investigation
was the nervous system, upon which the most erroneous opinions had hitherto
prevailed. Even professional men of high medical and anatomical knowledge
rested satisfied in the belief, that all the nerves were alike, and that the superior
amount of susceptibility in any organ merely depended upon the greater number
of nerves allotted to it. But even before he left Edinburgh, a suspicion had
grown upon the mind of Bell, tliat this prevalent opinion was erroneous, anj
farther inquiry satisfied him that himself alone was in the right. He found
that the nerves were distributed into different classes, to each of which belonged
its proper function ; and that the same puncture, which, applied to any other
of these conductors to the senses, would produce a sensation of pain, when
applied to the eye would give only the impression of a flash of light. He saw,
also, that the two roots by which the spinal nerves are connected with tlie
vertebral medulla, impart two different powers, the one that of motion, the other
tliat of sensation. In this way he accounted for those cases in which the motive
or sensitive powers are singly or severally lost. This discovery, wliich was as

V. F

42 SIR CHARLES BELL.

wonderful as that of the circulation of the blood, astonished the whole medical
world : it was a revelation that had remained unknown till now, and when
announced, could not be controverted ; and under this new guidance, practical
anatomists were directed to the proper seat of the ailments that came under their
notice, as well as taught the right mode of cure. His theorj^, which was pub-
lished in 1821, in the "Philosopliical Transactions," in the form of an essay on
the " Nervous System," produced immediate attention, and when its value was
appreciated, attempts were made to deny him the merit of the discovery.
Fortunately, however, for his claims, he had printed a pamphlet for distribution
among his friends, as early as 1811, in which the principal points of his theory
were already announced ; while his letters, written to his brother upon the
subject, were sufficient to put to flight the numerous pretenders who claimed
tlie discovery as their own. His subsequent publications on tlie " Nervous
Circle," and " On the Eye," completely established the existence of a sixth
sense, by whicli we are enabled to ascertain and estimate the qualities of size,
weight, form, distance, texture, and resistance.

Bell had now reached the summit of his ambition, and established for himself
a European reputation. His suggestions and improvements were adopted in
every country where the healing art was studied as a science, while the leading
men of the Continent united in testifying to the value of his labours. In 1824
he was appointed to the Senior Chair of Anatomy and Surgery in the London
College of Surgeons, while his treatises on "Animal Mechanics,'' and '-On the
Hand," and his "Illustrations of Paley's Natural Theology," secured that pro-
fessional distinction which seemed capable of no farther extension. On the
accession of William IV. to the throne, it was resolved to commemorate this
event, by conferring the honour of knighthood upon a few of the most eminent
scientific men of the period, and in this chosen number Bell was included, with
his countrymen Brewster, Leslie, and Ivory. An opportunity now occurred
for Sir Charles Bell to return to Scotland after an absence of thirty two years,
by an offer in 183G of the professorship of Surgery in the university of Edin-
burgh, which he accepted. It was his prevailing desire, notwithstanding his
wide and lucrative practice in London, to have leisure for prosecuting his
scientific researches, and to prosecute them among the friends of his youtli, and
in the place where they had commenced. But unfortunately he found Edinburgh
too limited a field for his purposes, and especially for a new and great work upon
the " Nervous System," which he wished to publish, with numerous splendid
illustrations. Instead of this, he was obliged to content himself with a new
edition of the "Anatomy of Expression," which he greatly extended and im-
proved, in the course of a tour through Italy, during the interval of a college
session. He also published his "Institutes of Surgery," containing the substance
of his lectures delivered in the university. In 1842, during the vacation of
summer. Sir Charles left Edinburgh on a journey to London ; but, on reaching
Hallow Park on the 27th of May, he died suddenly the same night. The cause of
his death was angina pectoris, brought on, as was supposed by his friends, from dis-
appointment, chiefly arising from the new Medical Reform Bill,AYhich he believed
was hostile to the best interests of the profession. His intellectual originality,
acuteness of perception, and steady perseverance, by which he attained such
distinguished reputation and success, were connected with an amenity and gen-
tleness of disposition that endeared him to the circle of his friends, and the
society in which he moved. An excellent portrait and striking likeness of Sir

JAMES BELL. 43

Charles Bell was painted by B. Mantyne, of which an engraving by Thomson
will be found in the third volume of Pettigrew's " Medical Portrait Gallery."

BELL, James. — This indefatigable geographer was born in 1769, in Jedburgh.
His father, the Rev. Thomas Bell, minister of a Relief congregation in that town,
and afterwards of Dovehill chapel, ia Glasgow, was a man of great worth and
considerable learning, and the author of a " Treatise on the Covenants," and
several other pieces of a theological kind. In his childhood and youth the
subject of our memoir suffered much sickness, and gave little promise either of
bodily or mental vigour ; but, as he grew up, his constitution improved, and he
began to evince that irresistible propensity to reading, or rather devouring all
books that came in his way, which ever afterwards marked his character. It
was fortunate for him that he was not bereft of his natural guardian until he
was considerably advanced in life, for he was quite unfit to push his own way
in the world, the uncommon simplicity of his character rendering him the easy
dupe of the designing and knavish. He indeed entered into business for a
short time as a manufacturer with his characteristic ardour, but finding himself
unsuccessful, he betook himself to another and more laborious mode of mak-
ing a livelihood, but one for which he was far better qualified, namely, the
private teaching of Greek and Latin to advanced students. But as his father,
with parental prudence, had settled a small annuit}' upon him, he was enabled
to devote a considerable portion of his time to those studies and researches to
which his natural inclination early led him, and which he only ceased to pro-
secute Avith his life. Mr. Bell used to advert with feelings of peculiar satisfac-
tion to the meetings of a little weekly society which, during this period of his
history, were held at his house and under his auspices, and at which the mem-
bers read essays and debated questions for their mutual entertainment and im-
provement. On all these occasions, Mr. Bell never failed to contribute his full
share to the evening's proceedings, and, when fairly excited, would astonish
and delight his associates, particularly the younger part of them, with the
extent and variety of his learning, and the astonishing volubility with which he
poured forth the treasures of his capacious and well-fui'nished mind on almost
every possible topic of speculation or debate.

Mr. Bell's first appearance as an author was made about the year 1815,
when he contributed several valuable chapters to the "Glasgow Geography" — a
work which had an extensive circulation, published in five volumes Sro, by
the house of Khull, Blackie, & Co., and which became the foundation of Mr.
Bell's " System of Popular and Scientific Geographj^" In 1824 he published
— in conjunction with a young Glasgow linguist of great promise, named John
Bell, who died January 1, 182G, but no relative of the subject of this memoir —
a thin 8vo volume, entitled, "Critical Researches in Philology and Geography."
The philologist contributed two articles to the volume, the one a " Review of
Jones's Persian Grammar," and the other a " Review of an Arabic Vocabulary
and Index to Richardson's Arabic Grammar, by James Noble, Teacher of Lan-
guages, in Edinburgh," both of which are characterized by a minute acquaint-
ance with the subjects under discussion. The geographer's contribution con-
sisted of a very elaborate " Examination of the Various Opinions that in
Modern Times have been held respecting the Sources of the Ganges, and the
Correctness of the Lamas' Map of Thibet," which elicited high encomiums from
some of the leading periodicals of the day.

Geography was the science around which as a nucleus all his sympathies

44 JAMES BEIiL.

gathered, as if by an involuntary and irresistible tendency. To it he conse-
crated the labour of his life ; it was the favourite study of his earlier years, and
his old age continued to be cheered by it. In every thing belonging to this
science there was a marvellous quickness and accuracy of perception — an
extreme justness of observation and inference about him. When the conversa-
tion turned upon any geographical subject, his ideas assumed a kind of poetical
inspiration, and flowed on in such unbroken and close succession, as to leave no
opportunity to his auditors of interposing a question or pursuing a discussion.
Once engaged, there was no recalling him from his wild excursive range — on he
went, revelling in the intensity of his own enjoyment, and bearing his hearers
along with him over chains of mountains and lines of rivers, until they became
utterly bewildered by the rapidity with which the physical features of every
region of the globe were made to pass in panoramic succession before them.

From his childhood Mr. Bell had been subject to severe attacks of asthma.
These gradually assumed a more alarming character, and ultimately compelled
him to leave Glasgow for a residence in the country. The place which he
selected for his retirement was a humble cottage in the neighbourhood of the
village of Campsie, about twelve miles north of Glasgow. Here he spent the
last ten or twelve years of his life in much domestic comfort and tranquillity.

He was abstemious in his general habits; and his only earthly regret —
at least the only one which he deemed of sufficient consequence to make
matter of conversation — was the smallness of his library, and his want of access
to books. Yet it is astonishing how little in the republic either of letters or of
science he allowed to escape him. Ilis memory was so retentive, that nothing
which he had once read was ever forgotten by him. This extraordinary faculty
enabled him to execute his literary commissions with a much more limited
apparatus of books, tlian to others less gifted would have been an indispensable
reqnisito.

The closing scene of Mr. Bell's life was calm and peaceful. lie had, as
already mentioned, long suffered violently from asthma. This painful disease
gradually gained upon his constitution, and became more severe in its periodi-
cal attacks, and the exliausted powers of nature finally sunk in the struggle.
He expired on the 3d of I\Iay, 1833, in the sixty-fourth year of his age, and
was buried, at his own express desire, in the old churchyard of Campsie— a
beautiful and sequestered spot.

In forming an estimate of Mr. Bell's literary character, we must always keeji
in view the difficulties with which he had to struggle in his unwearied pursuit
of knowledge. He was without fortune, without powerful friends, and destitute,
to a great extent, of even the common apparatus of a scholar. He laboured also
under defects of physical organization which would have chilled and utterly
repressed any mind less ardent and enthusiastic than his own in the pursuit of
knowledge: yet he surmounted every obstacle, and gained for himself a distin-
guished place among British geographers, in despite both of his hard fortune
and infirm health. Many men have made a more brilliant display with inferior
talents and fewer accomplishments; but none ever possessed a more complete
mastery over their fixvourite science, and could bring to any related task a greater
amount of accurate and varied knowledge. That he was an accomplished clas-
sical scholar is apparent from the imm.ense mass of erudite allusions which his
writings present; but he was not an exact scholar. He knew little of the niceties
of langunge; his compositions are often inelegant and incorrect; he had no ide.T,

sill RICHARD BIRNJE. 45

of elaLorating the expression of his thoughts, but wrote altogether without
attention to effect, and as if there were no such things as order in thinking and
method in composition. It would be doing him injustice, however, while on
this point, not to allow that his later writings exhibit a closer connection of
ideas, and greater succinctness of mental habits than his earlier productions.

Besides the earlier publications already adverted to, Mr. Bell edited an edition of
" RoUin's Ancient History," including the volume on the " Arts and Sciences
of the Ancients." This work, published in Glasgow, in three closely printed
octavo volumes, bears ample evidence to the industry, research, and sagacity of
the editor. The notes are of great extent, and many of them on the geography
of the ancients, on the bearing of history, on prophecy, more particularly the
prophecies of Daniel, or such as those on the retreat of the Ten Thousand Greeks,
the march of Hannibal across the Alps, and the ruins of Babylon, amount to dis-
cussions of considerable length.

His otlier great work was his " System of Geography," of which it is suffi-
cient to say, that it has been pronounced decidedly superior as a popular work
to that of Malte Brun, and on tliis account was subsequently republished in
America. In this country it obtained a very extensive circulation. The
preparation of these works, and of materials left incomplete for a *' General
Gazetteer," occupied a great many years of JMr. Bell's life. He also took a lively
interest in the success of several scientific periodicals, and aided their progress by
numerous valuable contributions from his own pen. In all his writings, from
the causes already assigned, there is too little effort at analysis and compression.
I\Iuch might with advantage have been abridged, and much pared off. In his
"System of Geography" he occasionally borrowed the correcting pen of a
friend, hence its composition is more regulated and chastened.

Mr. Bell's moral character was unimpeachable. He was remarkable for plain,
undissembling honesty, and the strictest regard to truth. In all that constituted
practical independence of character, he was well furnished ; he could neither
brook dependence nor stoop to complaint. He was in the strictest sense of the
word a pious man. He was a humble and sincere Christian, and his impressions
of a religious nature appear to have been acquired in early life. He had a deep
sense of the corruption of human nature, and saw the necessity of man's justifi-
cation by faith alone. He concurred with his whole heart in that interpretation
of the doctrines of the Bible commonly called the Calvinistic ; but in no sense
of the word was he sectarian in spirit; he had no bigotry or intolerance of
opinion on religious points, although few could wield the massive weapons of
theological controversy with greater vigour and eflect.

BIRNIE, Sir Richard. — This distinguished metropolitan police magistrate,
to whom London was so much indebted in that great blessing of civilization,
the "sweet security of streets," was born at Banff, in the year 1700, and was
the son of respectable parents. As they occupied a humble rank in society,
their son, Richard, was destined to be a tradesman, and was placed apprentice to
a saddler. After having served out the usual time, he repaired to London in
quest of more profitable occupation than his own country could at that time
supply, and soon obtained a situation as journeyman in the establishment of
IMacintosh & Co., saddlers and harness-makers in the Haymarket, where he was
quickly noted by his employers as nn active, industrious, and intelligent work-
man. This, however, promised little more than a rise of wages, with a shop
of his own as the ultimatum of the perspective, when one of those accidents

4G SIR RICHARD BIRNIE.

occurred which secured his way to higher advancement, under the patronage of
roj'alty itself. The Prince of Wales (afterwards George IV.) having on some
urgent occasion required saddlery to a considerable amount, sent an order to
Macintosh & Co., who were saddlers to the Royal Family, requiring some one
from their warehouse to come and receive the necessary instructions. The firrr
•was thrown into a sore dilemma by this sudden command, as not only the senior
partner but the foreman were laid up with sickness. The most intelligent of
their workmen must be selected as a substitute, and in this case Richard Birnie
Avas their mark. He went, and received the behests of his Royal Highness ;
and his behaviour on this occasion, as well as the correctness with which the
order was executed, so satisfied the heir to the throne, that in his future commis-
sions of the same kind, he always added his desire, that the " young Scotchman ''
should be sent to receive them.

This distinction was the road to fortune, and Richard Birnie was not of a
disposition to neglect it. Of these two facts, indeed, his employers Avere suf-
ficiently aware, so that from a mere workman he became foreman, and afterwards,
a partner in the establishment. During this rise, he also bettered his condition
by matrimony, his wife, the daughter of a rich baker in Oxendon Street, having
brought to him aconsiderable portion in money, besides a cottage, and some valuable
land in Acton, Middlesex. After this event, he settled himself as a householder
in St. Martin's parish, which entailed upon him a portion of the civic duties of
that district ; and his intelligence and activity' at vestry and other meetings were
such, that in every work of difficulty he was certain to be selected either as agent
or referee. In this way, the offices with which he came in contact were so various,
that ha often triumphantly stated he had filled them all successively, except
those of beadle and watchman. Besides these peaceful commissions, he was
ready to undertake those of a more martial and dangerous character; so that
during the stormy period which closed the Pitt administration, he enrolled him-
self as a private in the Royal Westminster Volunteers, where he soon after held
the rank of captain. Nor was he an idle or mere titular holder of office during
these various gradations ; on the contrary, he seems to have brought to them
all the same active, pains-taking, benevolent spirit by which his more public
life was afterwards distinguished. This was especially the case when he served
as church-warden of the parish, to which he was appointed in 1805. In this
situation he united cordially with the vicar, Dr. Anthony Hamilton, and with
his brother churchwarden, Mr. Elam, a silversmith in the Strand, in alleviating
the poverty of the parish, and gave effectual aid in the establishment of St.
Martin's Chapel, Pratt Street, Camden Town, and a number of comfortable
woll-provided alms-houses for the decayed parishioners of St. Martin's. As two
resident magistrates are necessary for that district, Mr. Birnie was placed in the
commission of the peace at the request of the Duke of Northumberland.

Being thus at a sedentary period of life surrounded with all the substantial
means of comfort, and invested with an office that brought him title and worship,
the London magistrate might have retired with credit from the scramble of com-
petition, and left the field open to younger men. But as yet his public career
had only commenced, and he was as ready as ever for action. Being now a
magistrate, he was anxious to qualify himself for the duties into which he had
entered, and for this purpose became a frequent attender at the Bow Street Office,
where he could study offences of every degree and statutes for every offence —
the repression of the former, and the wise, just, discriminating application of

SIR RICHARD BIl KIE. 47

the latter. Here, too, at length he was wont to give effectual aiil, being fie-
qiiently invited to the bench in the absence of any one of the regular magistrates.
The experience he thus acquired, and the tact he displiyed, suggested a more
permanent application of his services; and, accordingly, after some time, he was
appointed police magistrate at Union Hall, and finally at the more important
office of Bow Street. This, for a considerable time, had been the chief mark of
his ambition, although at the period it promised neither ease nor safety. One
dangerous service on which he was called to act in February, 1820, was in the
apprehension of the desperate gang of Cato Street conspirators — men who were
not likely to be secured without a sanguinary resistance. On this occasion,
Mr. Birnie was placed in command of the Bow Street constables, who were sup-
ported by a detachment of the Coldstream Guards ; he entered the stable and
hay-loft where the conspirators were in close conclave, and had his full share of
the danger that followed when the lights were extinguished, and the struggle
commenced. Soon after, the chief magistrate of Bow Street, Sir Nathaniel
Conant, having died, Mr. Birnie justly thought that his services on the lata
Cato Street occasion gave him a fair claim to the vacancy ; but instead of this
reasonable expectation being justified, the appointment was bestowed upon Sir
Robert Baker of Marlborough Street. This rejection so affected Mr. Birnie,
that, with tears starting from his eyes when he heard of it, he exclaimed to the
magistrate who sat beside him on the bench, " This is the reward a man gets
for risking his life in the service of his country."

Whatever was wrong in this affair was soon afterwards righted, and Mr.
Birnie was appointed to the coveted office in consequence of one of those
political emergencies with which the season was so rife. In August, 1821, the
death of Queen Caroline occurred, and the populace of London, who believed
that she had died an injured brokenhearted woman, were as maddened at the
sight of her remains on their way to interment as was the Roman mob at the
unmantled body of the murdered Csesar ; while, to heighten the confusion, the
king himself, who should have been at hand to issue orders in such a crisis, was
absent in Ireland. In such a case, where personal responsibility was sure to
involve a great amount of risk as well as odium, the chief officials were afraid to
act, and Sir Robert Baker, on being commanded to read the Riot Act, trembled
and refused. But Birnie had no such timidity ; he saw that a crisis had arrived
at which the whole mob of London might have broke loose like a destroying
tempest, and therefore he stepped forward and performed the obnoxious dut.y,
by which bold act the rioters were daunted, and dispersed. The indecision of
Sir Robert Baker on this occasion, from which such perilous consequences might
have occurred, was so offensive to the ministry, that he found it necessary to
resign, and J\Ir. Birnie was promoted in his room. On the 17th of September
(the month after the funeral) he also received the honour of knighthood.

After this, the life of Sir Richard_Birnie, as chief magistrate of Bow Street,
went on in silent unostentatious activity to the close. In the important office
which he occupied, he was distinguished as an upright, intelligent, and zealous
justiciary, and his measures for the repression of crime and the preservation of
order, were such as to endear him to the friends of peace and good government
to the end of his career. To the last he also retained the favour of his royal
master, George IV., to whose kind attention and patronage his rise had been
chiefly owing ; as well as the confidence of the chief officers of state, who fre-
quently consulted him in matters connected witlx the general welflue of the

48 SIR GILBERT BLANE, M.D.

metropolis. After sucli a course of usefulness, that was crowned with the
success it had merited, he died on the 29th of April, 1832, in the seventy-second
year of his age, leaving one son and two daughters.

BLANE, Sir Gilbert, M.D., of Blanefield, Ayrshire, and Culverlands,
Berkshire, Bart. — This eminent physician was the fourth son of Gilbert
Blane of Blanefield, in the county of Ayr, and was born at that place a.d. 1749.
Being destined by his parents for the church, he was sent at an early age to the
university of Edinburgh ; but in consequence of certain religious scruples, he
abandoned the purpose of studying for the ministry, and turned his thoughts
to the medical profession, for which he soon found that he had a peculiar
vocation. His remarkable diligence and proficiency in the different departments
of medical science secured the notice not only of his classfellows, but the pro-
fessors, so that on graduating as a physician, he was recommended by Dr. Cul-
len to Dr. William Hunter, at that time of high celebrity in London, both as
physician and teacher of anatomy, Avho soon learned to estimate the talents and
worth of his young protege. He therefore introduced Dr. Blane to the notice
of Lord Holdernesse, whose private physician he soon became, and he was after-
wards appointed to the same office to Lord Rodney. This transition from the
service of a peaceful statesman to that of an active naval hero, introduced the
Doctor to a wider sphere of medical practice, but to one also of greater danger
and trial. When Lord Rodney, in 1780, assumed the command of the West
India station, Blane accompanied him, and was present in six naval engage-
ments, in the very first of which he found himself compelled to forego his pro-
fessional privilege of being a non-combatant. This was in consequence of every
officer on deck being killed, wounded, or otherwise employed, so that none
remained but himself who could be intrusted with the admiral's orders to the
officers serving at the guns. This hazardous employment he cheerfully under-
took and ably discharged, receiving a slight wound in its performance. His
conduct on this occasion was so gratifying to his Lordship, that at his recom-
mendation, he was at once raised to the important office of physician to the
fleet, without undergoing the subordinate grades. On this station, where
disease is so prevalent among our seamen, he was unremitting in his attention
to the health of the ships' crews, and the success of his efforts was felt by the
whole fleet. During this period, also, he found a short interval for gratifying
tliose literary tastes which he had cultivated at college ; and his account of the
important naval engagement of the 12th of April, 1782, which he sent to Lord
Stair, was so distinct and so animated, that it soon found its way into print.
This victory, indeed, which Lord Rodney obtained over Count de Grasse off
Guadeloupe, was of itself well worthy of admiration; for it not only saved
Jamaica, ruined the allied fleet of our enemies in that quarter, and restored tlic
supremacy of the British flag, but was the first great trial of the experiment
of breaking the line which Nelson afterwards so successfully adopted. Soon
after his return from the West India station, which he left in 1783, Dr.
Blane published in London a work entitled, " Observations on the Diseases of
Seamen," in one volume Bvo. It contained the results of his own careful expe-
rience, and the conclusions he had drawn from the medical returns of the sur-
geons of the fleet, and abounded with so much sound and practical wisdom upon
that important subject, that it soon became a standard work, and was repeatedly
reprinted with additional improvements. On his return, it was found that lie
was precluded from half-pay, on account of his appointment having been made

SIR GILBERT BLANE, M.D. 49

without his having passed the intermediate steps of service. But a still more
honourable requital awaited his labours; for, in consequence of a joint application
from all tlie officers on the West India station to the Admiralty, Dr. Blane
was rewarded by a pension from the crown, which was afterwards doubled at
the suggestion of the Lords of the Admiralty. Even this, too, was not the full
amount of benefit which he owed to the esteem of his fellow-officers; for one
of these, a midshipman of Rodney's fleet — but who M-as no less a person than
the Duke of Clarence, afterwards William IV.— obtained for him the appoint-
ment of physician extraordinary to the Prince of Wales, in 1785; he was also,
chiefly through the popular influence of Lord Rodney, elected physician to St.
Thomas's Hospital. About the same time, also, he was appointed one of the
commissioners of sick and wounded sailors. As he was now on shore, and in
prosperous circumstances, he sought a permanent and comfortable homo by
marriage; and, on the 11th July, 178G, was united to Elizabeth, only daughter
of Abraham Gardner, merchant. By this lad^^, who shared with him the
honours and comforts of a long life, and whose death preceded his own by only
two years, he was the father of six sons and three daughters. Having about
the time of his marriage been elected a fellow of the Royal Society, he was
appointed, in 1788, to deliver the Croonian lecture of that year, a duty which ho
performed with signal ability, having chosen " Muscular Motion " for his subject,
and illustrated it with great extent of information, as well as mucli profound
and original thinking. The essay was published in 1791, and afterwards
republished in his " Select Dissertations," in 1822 and 1834. In 1790, an essay
of his on the "Nardus or Spikenard of the Ancients," was also published in the
80th volume of the " Transactions of the Royal Society."

More important, however, than all these appointments that were successively
conferred upon Dr. Blane, was that of being placed at the head of the Navy
Medical Board, which occurred in 1795. It was here that he had full scope and
exercise for his talents, philanthropy, and nautical experience as a physician.
In proportion as the empire of Britain was extended, the number and length of
voyages were increased, so that the draught upon our island population for the
royal and merchant service was every year becoming greater. But a still more
serious danger than any that arose from storm or battle, and more wasteful in
its silent effects, was that which originated in scurv^', the ocean-pestilence,
from which there had hitherto been no protection, except at the expense of a
long delay by recruiting on a friendly shore. The causes of this disease were
the cold and unhealthy atmosphere on ship-board, owing to defective ship-build-
ing, the sand used for ballast, the unwholesome miasma of the bilge- water, and
the imperfect means of washing and ventilating the vessel. But these were
trivial compared with the diet of our sailors, which, on long vo^-ages, consisted
merely of salted meat and biscuit. The defective nourishment and excessive
stimulus of this kind of food made the scurvy still prevalent in our fleets, not-
withstanding the improvements by which the other causes were counteracted ;
and the point and limit seemed to have been already attained, beyond which
the British flag could be carried no farther. " The cure seems impossible by
any remedy, or by any management that can be employed," says the historian
of Anson's voyage despairingly, when he describes the condition of the commo-
dore's crew on his arrival at .luan Fernandez, where, after a loss of four-fifths
of his sailors, he had, out of the two hundred survivors, only eight Avho were
capable of duty. It was to root out, or at least to diminish this disease, and biing

V. G

50 SIR GILBERT BLA.NE, M.D.

it under proper management, that Dr. Blane now addressed himself; and in
this humane and patriotic purpose he was ably seconded by Earl Spencer, at
that time First Lord of the Admiralt}-. The Doctor well knew that the only
antiscorbutics available for the prevention or cure of sea-scurvy are those vege-
tables in which acid predominates ; and that of all fruits, the genus citrus is
most effective. Here, then, was the remedy; and since the fruit could not be
carried fresh during a long voyage, the preserved juice might be used as a sub-
stitute. Such was the cure he suggested, and through the influence of Earl
Spencer, it was immediately introduced throughout the whole British nav}-.
Several gallons of lemon juice, having a tenth part of spirit of wine, to preserve
it, was supplied to each ship ; and, in a fortnight after leaving the port, the use
of it began, each sailor being allowed one ounce of it, with an ounce and a half
of sugar, to mix with his grog or wine. The immense advantages of an inno-
vation apparently so very simple — and therefore so very difficult to be discovered
— were quickly apparent. In the statistics of our nav3'- we find, that during
nine years of consecutive warfare from 1770 to 1795, the number of men voted
for the service by parliament was 745,000, of whom 189,730 were sent sick on
shore, or to the hospitals. But during the nine following years of consecutive
warfare, that is to say, from 179G, when the use of lime juice was introduced
into the navy, till 1806, during which period 1,053,076 men weie voted for
sea-service, of these, the sick amounted to no more than 123,949. The amount
of disease had thus diminished by one-half, because scurvy had almost wholly
disappeared ; and our fleets, instead of being utterly drained of their seamen, as
would have been the case under the former ratio, were enabled for twenty years
to go onward in a career of victory unchecked, and repair their losses as fast as
they occurred. And the merchant service, too, from which these victories
derive their value, has been equally benefited by the remedy of Dr. Blane, so
that its vessels may traverse every sea in safety, and return after the longest
voyages with a healthy and happy crew; while a spectacle such as had been
seen more than once — like that of the Oriflamma, for instance, where the whole
crew had died, and the deck was piled with the corpses, while not a hand was
left to guide her course as she slowly drifted before the wind — would be reckoned
as impossible as a realization of the tale of the "Ancient Mariner."

The famine which prevailed over the whole of Britain during the jqbxs 1790
and 1800, was too severe to be easily forgotten by the present generation ; and,
with the view of directing attention to its alleviation, as well as preventing its
recurrence. Dr. Blane published in 1800 an " Inquiry into the Causes and
Remedies of the Late and Present Scarcity and High Price of Provisions; with
Observations on the Distresses of Agriculture and Commerce which have pre-
vailed for the last three years." As he had now attained a high medical
reputation, and enjoyed an extensive private practice in addition to his public
duties, he resigned the office of physician to St. Thomas's Hospital, after having
held it twenty years. The fruits of his observations during that period he gave
to the world in a dissertation " On the Comparative Prevalence and Mortality
of Diff'erent Diseases in London," which was first published in the "Transactions
of the Medico-Chirurgical Society," and afterwards embodied in his "Select
Dissertations." The unhappy Walcheren expedition was one of the last public
services on which Blane was employed. That island of fogs, swamps, and pesti-
lential vapours had loomed so alluringly in the eyes of our statesmen, that
nothing short of its possession would satisfy them, and one of the largest arma-

SIR GILBERT 13LANE, M.D. 51

ments that had ever left a British port, conveying 40,000 soldiers, was sent to
achieve its conquest. It Avas soon won and occupied; hut our troops found,
on entering into possession, that a deadlier enemy than any that France could
furnish was arrayed against them to dispute their footing ; so that, indepen-
dently of the fearful amount of mortality, ten thousand hrave soldiers were
soon upon the sick list. As for the disease, too, which produced such havoc,
although it was sometimes called fever, and sometimes ague, neither its nature,
causes, nor cure, could he satisfactorily ascertained. All this, however, was
necessary to he detected, if our hold was to be continued upon Walcheren ; and
the chief medical officers of the army were ordered to repair in person to the
island, and there hold an inquest upon the malady, with a view to its removal.
But no medical Curtiiis could he found to venture into such a gulf: the
surgeon- general of the army declared that the case was not surgical, and ought
therefore to he superintended by the phj'sician-general ; while the latter as
stoutly argued, that the duty indisputably belonged not to him, but to the
inspector-general of army hospitals. In this way, an office reckoned tantamount
to a death-warrant, from the danger of infection which it involved, was bandied
to and fro, while the unfortunate patients were daily sickening and dying by
the hundred. One man, however, fully competent for the task, and whose
services on such an occasion were completely gratuitous, departed upon the
perilous mission. This was Dr. Blane, who, as belonging to a different
department, had no such obligations as his army brethren, but who, neverthe-
less, undertook the obnoxious duty in 1809, while the disease was most preva-
lent. It is, perhaps, unnecessary to add, that the British soon after abandoned
their possession of Walcheren.

Another public service on which Dr. Blane was employed in the following
year (1810), was to visit Korthfleet, and report on the expediency of establishing a
dock-yard and naval arsenal there. This terminated his public official labours,
which were so highly valued, that in 1812 he was raised to the rank of baronet,
and appointed in the same year physician in ordinary to the Prince Regent. In
1819, he reappeared as an author, by the publication of "Elements of Medical
Logic," the most useful of his writings, and one so highly prized, that, in the
course of a few j'ears, it went through several editions. In 1021, having now
for two years been past the " tlirce score and ten'' that constitute the com-
laon boundary of human life, he suffered under the effects of old age in the
form of prurigo senilis, for Avhich he was obliged to take such copious doses of
opium, that he became a confirmed opium eater; but this habit, so fatal in most
instances, seems in him to have been counteracted by the disease which it alle-
viated, for he continued to the last in full possession and use of his intellectual
faculties. In 1822, he published "Select Dissertations on Several Subjects of
Medical Science," most of which had previously appeared in the form of
separate papers in the most important of our medical periodicals. In 182G, he
was elected a, memher of the Institute of France. Although a long period of
peace had now occurred, his zeal for the welfare of the navy still continued.
This hje had first manifested on his being placed at the head of the Navy
Medical Board, when he caused regular returns or journals of the state of
health and disease to be kept by every surgeon in the service, and forwarded to
the Navj' Board, from which returns he drew up those dissertations that were
read before the Medico-Chirurgical Society, and published in its " Transac-
tions." But anxious still niore effectually to promote emulation and reward

SIR ALEXANDER BUllNES.

merit in the medical department of the British naval service, he founded la
1829, Avith the sanction of the Lords of the Admiralt}^ a prize medal for the
best journal kept by the surgeons of his Majesty's navy. This medal is awarded
every second year, the commissioners selecting four of the best journals for com-
petition. On tlie accession of William IV. to the throne in 1030, the sovereign
was not forgetful of liis old shipmate, and Sir Gilbert was appointed first phj-si-
cian to the king. Fully rewarded with wealth and honours, and laden with
years, Sir Gilbert Blane could now retire gracefully from the scene of public
life, and leave his place to be filled by younger men ; and this he did in a
manner that was consistent with his previous career. The whole island was
filled with consternation at the coming of the cholera, and the havoc which it
wrought wherever it appeared, upon which he published a pamphlet in 1831,
entitled, " Warning to the Britisli Public against the Alarming Approach of
the Indian Cliolera." After this he retreated, at the age of eighty-two, into
peaceful retirement, where he solaced his leisure hours in revising and preparing
for publication the second edition of his "Select Dissertations," which issued
from the press before he died. Ilis death occurred on the 26th of June, 1834,
in the eighty-fifth year of his age.

BURNES, Sir Alexander. — This distinguished officer, whose varied talents
were so available to the administration of the British government in India, and
whose premature and violent death was so deeply deplored, was born in the
town of Montrose, on the 16th of Ma}', 1805. His father, a maj^istrate of For-
farshire, was highly esteemed in that county, and had heid the chief official
situations of the borough of Montrose, while his grandfather was brother to
William Burnes, the parent of our illustrious national poet. It is well known
to the readers of the life of Robert Burns, that the family name had always been
spelled Burnes, and that his father was the first who dropped the letter e in its
signature. Alexander was educated at Montrose Academy, and there his pro-
ficiency gave full promise of his future excellence. Having obtained a cadet -
ship when he left school at the age of sixteen, he set sail for India, and arrived at
Bombay on October 31, 1821. So earnest and successful had been his studies for his
new sphere of active duty, that at the close of the year after that of his arrival in
India, Alexander Burnes was appointed interpreter in Ilindostanee to the first
extra battalion at Surat. His proficiency in the Persian tongue had also been so
rapid as to secure the confidence of the judges of the Sudder Adawlut, so that he
was appointed translator of the Persian documents of that court, without any
solicitation of his own. His talents for civil occupation were soon so conspicuous
as to secure him rapid promotion in that ludo- British government, whose very
existence depends upon the superiority of intellect alone, and where the en-
couragement of merit, independently of birth or fortune, is a matter of absolute
necessity. Accordingly, Alexander Burnes, after having filled the offices of
ensign and quarter-master of brigade, was confirmed in the office of deputy-
assistant quarter-master general at the age of twenty-one, at which period, also,
he drew up an elaborate report on tlie statistics of Wagur, a paper for whicli he
received the thanks of the governor and members of tlie council of Bombay.
In 1828, he was honoured by a similar testimony for a memoir on the eastern
mouth of the Indus; and in September, 1820, he was appointed assistant to the
political agent in Cutch, for the purpose of efi^ecting a survey of the north-west
border of that pi'ovince. Burnes, who had been there four years previous, as
ensign of the 21st Bombay Native Infantry, during the disturbances of that

SIR ALEXANDER BTJRNES. 53

qunvtor, returned in his new capacity, and discharged his task with his wonted
ability and success. His account of this survey is contained in the " Transac-
tions of the Koyal Geographical Society for 1834. '

The talents of Burnes as an oriental linguist and statist having thus been
tested, instead of being allowed to rest, were summoned to higher exertion. In
the growth of our Indo-Britisli empire, it was necessary that the Indus, whoso
approaches had hitherto been so carefully shut up to British mercantile cnter-
piise,should be thrown open to our ships, but, at the same time, without exciting
tlie jealousy of those wild tribes who regarded the river as the pledge of their
national freedom. To disarm suspicion, therefore, it Avas resolved that this
object should be covertly accomplished, liy means of apolitical mission ostensibly
directed to a different purpose. A present of five large and splendid horses, accom-
panied by a letter from tlie sovereign of Great Britain, Averetobe consigned to Run-
jeet Singh, the celebrated IMaharajah of the Punjaub ; and on the way to Lahore
for that purpose. Lieutenant Burnes, by whom the mission was to be conducted,
was to travel by the circuitous route of Scinde. He was provided with letters
addressed to the chieftains of the province, and to conceal the real purpose of
liis journey, and facilitate his progress, he enlisted in his service a guard of wild
Beeloochees, instead of taking with him a troop of British soldiers, whose ap-
pearance would have awakened the jealousy of the natives. Thus provided^
Burnes commenced his journey, and reached the mouth of the Indus on the
28th of January, 1831. lie had now a difficult diplomatic task to perform,
for the Ameers of Scinde had taken the alarm, and every delay which they could
devise was thrown in the way of his further progress. This, however, was
nothing more than what he wished; for, during the delay occasioned by their
feigned negotiations, he had made a complete survey of the mouths of the river,
and constructed a map of the lower part of its course ; he also obtained their
full permission to continue his journey on the Indus, instead of travelling by
land, and their assent that thenceforth it should be left open to the transit of
British merchandise. Proceeding along the river by water, and visiting every
place of interest upon his way, he at length reached Lahore on the 18th of July.
As the real and most important part of his journey was already accomplished,
all that remained was little more than a mere political visit of ceremony, graced
■with all the showy forms of an oriental embassy, and an amusing account of
•which he has given us in the third volume of his "Travels in Bokhara."
Splendid retinues, with abundance of trumpeting and cannonading, welcomed
him into the capital of the modern Timour ; and on entering the palace, and
putting off his shoes on the threshold, according to the Asiatic rule of etiquette,
Burnes suddenly found himself locked in the embrace of a diminutive old man,
who was no other than Runjeet Singh himself, eager to do him honour, and who
had comeout thus far to welcome him. After sojourning till the middle of August
at the court of Runjeet Singh, by whom he was treated with the utmost kind-
ness, Burnes left Lahore, and having crossed the Sutledge, he proceeded to
Loodiana, where he .became acquainted with Shah Zeman and Shah Soojah,
who had formerly been kings of Cabool, but were now discrowned, and living
under British protection. lie then continued his journe}", and arrived at Simla,
where he met Lord William Bentinck, the governor-general, who forthwith
proceeded to avail himself of Burnes' mission, by negotiations for opening the
navigation of the Indus.

After this successful expedition, Burnes proposed to Lord Bentinck to under-

i54 SIR ALEXANDER BURNES.

take an exploratory journey into Central Asia, to which the latter eagerly
acceded. The Indian government having sanctioned his Lordship's permission,
Burnes commenced this new and adventurous journey in January, 1832. As
.yet, much of tlie interior of our vast Indian empire was but little known, and
even the cliarts of many districts that had been penetrated by British travellers
were still incorrect or defective. One important advantage of this journey of
Burnes was an addition to the map of Arrowsmith, the most valuable of our
Indian charts, to which he supplied some of its best improvements. As it was
necessary to pass thi'ough Scinde in his route, he had previously sought and
obtained permission to that effect from his powerful friend, the Mahai-ajah.
He therefore once more entered Lahore, at which he arrived on the 17th of
Januarjr, and was cordially welcomed by Runjeet Singh; and after a stay there
till the 11th of Februarj^, he crossed the Ravee, and having halted one night
in a house beside the monument of Jehangur, he prepared for the dangerous part
of his journej'. It was necessary for this purpose that he should be completely
disguised, and therefore he assumed the dress and habits, and as much as possible
tlie appearance, of an Afghan. He had for the companion of his journey, Mr.
James Gerard, surgeon of the Bengal army, who clothed himself with a similar
costume; and, after leaving behind them every article of their luggage that
might indicate their country or purpose, the travellers commenced their pil-
grimage of peril, escorted by a body of troops provided by the Maharajah.
They were thus accompanied to the frontier of Runjeet's dominions, a short
distance on the further side of the Attock, where they met the Afghans, by
whom they were escorted to Acora. Thej' afterwards successively reached
Peshawur, Jellalabad, and Cabool ; scaled the lofty passes of Oonna and Ilagee-
gak, on the latter of which, 12,400 feet in height at its highest point, the frost
was so intense that the snow bore the weight of their horses, and the thermo-
meter fell to 4' of Fahrenheit. On attempting subsequently to surmount the
pass of Kalao, which is a thousand feet higher, they found it so blocked up with
snow as to be impassable, and were compelled to choose another route, by
Avhich they reached Ghoolgoola, that city, or rather valley of ruins, famed for
its two colossal statues, the largest of which is 120 feet in height, and for the
hills that enclose the vallej^, which are absolutely honey-combed with excava-
tions. They then crossed the pass of Acrobat ; and descending from the moun-
tains of the Indian Caucasus, they entered the vast plains of Tartary. At
Khooloom, the frontier town of Morad Beg, chief of Khoondooz, the bold travel-
lers were met by a startling message from tbat potentate, requiring Burnes to
wait upon him at Kaumabad, a village about fifty miles off. Obedience was
unavoidable; and therefore, leaving Mr. Gerard at Khooloom, Burnes repaired to
Kaumabad, and presented himself before the chief in tattered and threadbare
garments, under the character of a poor Armenian Avatchmaker travelling from
Lucknow to Bokhara. A moment's timidity on his part, or suspicion on that
of the Asiatic lord, might have cost the traveller his life ; but, fortunately, his
statement was believed, so that he received a safe conduct to continue hia
journey, and he left Kaumabad in the company of a small caravan of nine or
ten tea-merchants.

This danger being thus happily got over, Burnes rejoined j\Ir. Gerard at
Khooloom. Their route was continued, and they arrived at Balkh, that won-
drous city of history and romance, with which our childhood and youth were
made so familiar. Now a heap of ruins in the midst of a glory that has passed

SIR ALEXANDER BURNES. 5j

away, but still covering an extent of twenty miles with its fragments, it is a
iitting monument of the many empires to which it has belonged ; for here
the Greek, Persian, Arabian, Tartar, and Afghan, have successively ruled.
Strange, therefore, have been the changes it has witnessed since the time that it
was the Bactra of Alexander the Great ! After halting for three days in tliis
interesting compend of ancient and modern history, Burnes and Gerard entered
the desert on the 14th of June, and, two days after, they reached the banks of
the Oxus, that most important of Asiatic rivers, which bounded the conquests
of C^-rus, and all but terminated those of Alexander. At that part which our
travellers crossed, the river was about 800 yards wide, and twenty feet deep,
where the transit was made in boats neither impelled by sail nor oar, but drawn
by a couple of stout horses that swam across. Continuing their course, they
reached on the 27th of June the city of Bokhara, the capital of the country of
that name, a city whose remaining colleges still justify its ancient renown for
learning and civilization, and the high encomiums which eastern poets heaped
upon it. After waiting in the neighbourhood of the city of Kara-kool till the.
16th of August, Burnes and Gerard resumed their journey in the company of
a caravan consisting of 150 persons and 80 camels, the former travelling in very
simple fashion, some on horses, some on asses, and several in panniers slung
across the backs of camels. With this escort our travellers passed the great
desert by Merve, and on the I7th of September reached the strong fortress of
Koochan, where they parted, Gerard intending to proceed to Herat and Can-
dahar, and afterwards return to Cabool. Burnes continued his journey in
the company of 300 persons, chiefly Khoords, Persians, and Turcomans — three
of the eleven races with which the province of Bokhara is peopled — until he
had passed Boojnoord, when he continued his journey alone to the town of
Astrabad. He then crossed an arm of the Caspian, and proceeded to Teheran,
the modern capital of Persia, where he had the honour of being presented to
tlie Shah. Such is a brief outline of one of the perilous and laborious journeys
in which a chivalrous love of science enables the modern traveller to dare and
endure the utmost that knight-errantry has recorded of its ancient votaries.

The object of this expedition having been successfully attained, Burnes was
eager to return by the shortest and safest route to head-quarters, and report his
proceedings. He therefore embarked at Bushire for Bombay, which he reached
on the 18th of January, after a year's absence. The information he had
gathered during this adventurous journey, and which he hastened to lay before
the government, was so valuable in the statistical and geographical history of
these countries with which India is so closely connected, that he received the
especial thanks of the governor-general, and was honoured besides with the
commission of carrying his own despatches to England. He accordingly set
sail for London, where his services wei'e so highly appreciated, that he not only
met with the most flattering reception at the India House, but was honoured
with the especial thanks of his sovereign. Fresh distinctions crowded upon
him as soon as the results of his labours were known to the public. The narra-
tive of his journey w'as immediately translated into French and German; he
was elected a member of the Royal Asiatic Society, and of the Royal Geogra-
phical Society ; and presented with the gold medal, and royal premium of fifty
guineas, for " The Navigation of the Indus, and a Journey by Balkh and
Bokhara across Central Asia." Nor were these acknowledgments of his services
in behalf of science, literature, and humanity, confined to his own country; for,

oa paying a sliort visit to Paris, lie Avas welcomed wilh general enthusiasm as
one of the most talented and adventurous of modern travellers, and presented
with the silver medal of the French Geographical Society.

The stay of Burnes at home after so long a residence in India, and so much
travel, was comparatively brief, extending to only eighteen months, after which
he left England on April 5, 1835, and proceeding bj-^ the south of France, Egypt,
and the Red Sea, he reached Bombay on the 1st of June, and joined Colonel
Pottinger, the British Resident at Cutch, as his assistant. Only a few months
after, he was sent upon a mission to Hyderabad, to prevent the necessity of a
war with Scinde, in which he was successful. While thus occupied in that
country, a more important duty was intrusted to him ; this was, to negotiate
a commei'cial treaty with Dost Mohammed, sovereign of Afghanistan, and also
with the Indian chiefs of the western provinces. lie reached Cabool on the
20th of September, 1837. Here, however, he found that his mission was use-
less, from the danger that menaced our Indian empire through the movements
and intrigues of Persia and Russia, and the likelihood of their uniting with the
Afghans, while Dost Mohammed, instigated b}!- the Russian agent at his court,
gave Burnes an order of dismissal. On his return to head-quarters, it was re-
solved by the Indian government to replace their pensionary. Shah Soojah,
upon the throne of Cabool, as a more peaceable or compliant ally than Dost
Mohammed ; and Burnes was sent to the army to make arrangements in the
commissariat department, preparatory to the invasion of Afghanistan. While
thus occupied, he was gratified to learn that his valuable services had not been
forgotten at home, for at Sliikarpoor he received a copy of the "London
Gazette," announcing his promotion to the honour of knighthood and the rank
of lieutenant-colonel. Before the commencement of military operations. Sir
Alexander Burnes was sent on a political mission from Scinde to Beeloochistan,
that failed, upon which he regained the British invading army, that had already
advanced, through many difficulties, as far as the fertile valley of Quettah. Hero
he saw hard military service in the shape of a toilsome march, accompanied
with danger and privation of every kind, as well as in the storming of Ghuznee,
Avhieh was only wrested from the Afghans after a close and desperate hand-to-
hand fight of three hours. After this important city was won, Ilyder Khan,
its governor, one of the sons of Dost Mohammed, who had surrendered himself
to the British, was placed under the care of Sir Alexander Burnes. Soon after.
Dost Mohammed fled from the kingdom. Shah Soojah was replaced in the
sovereignty, and such was the appearance of submission on the part of the
Afghan?, that Sir William M'Naughten was left as British envoj' at the court
of Cabool, with Sir Alexander Burnes for his assistant. But, unfortunately,
this season of calm was soon overcast. The impatient Afghans resumed their
insurrectionary spirit, and on several occasions broke forth into revolts that
were suppressed with difficulty. Still, however, neither ]\l'Naughten nor
Barnes seem to have anticipated any immediate danger, notwithstanding the
warnings of Major Pottinger, for 14,000 British soldiers were stationed in
Afghanistan, independent of the troops of the new Shah. But, on the 2nd
November, 1841, the storm suddenly burst out. At nine o'clock in the morning,
the house of Burnes in Cabool was attacked and set on fire by the insurgent multi-
tude, and himself, his brother Lieutenant Charles Burnes, Lieutenant Broad foot,
and every man, woman, and child in the building were murdered. It was the com-
mencement of a fearful tragedy, of which a disastrous retreat, and the destruction

JAMES BURNET. 57

of twenty-six thousand individuals by exhaustion and the sabres of the pursiiiijg
Afghans were the mournful termination.

Our immortal national poet Burns, half-despondingly half-play fully, has
sometimes expressed his regret, more especially when the pressure of poverty
was at the worst, that he had not repaired in liis youth to India, as so many
of his countrymen had done, and become a thriving merchant, instead of a pen-
niless bard. But little did he think of the destiny that awaited two of his nephews
tliere — and last of all his grandson ! Sir Alexander was never married, and was
survived by his parents and three brothers. Besides his " Travels into Bokhara,''
and several papers in the " Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of Lon-
don," he was author of a work, entitled, " Cabool ; being a Narrative of a Journey
to, and Residence in that City, in the Years 1830-7-8," which was published
after his death.

BURNET, James, Landscape Painter. — Among the lives of eminent men it
often liappens that some individual obtains a place, more on account of the
excellence he indicated than tliat which he realized ; and whom a premature
death extinguishes, just when a well-spent youth of high promise has com-
menced those labours by which the hopes he excited would in all likelihood be
amply fulfilled. Such examples we do not willingly let die, and this must
form our chief apology for the introduction of a short memoir of James Burnet
in the present work. lie was of a family that came originally fi'om Aberdeen,
and was born at Musselburgh, in the year 1788. His father, George Burnet, of
whom he was the fourth son, held the important office of general surveyor of
excise in Scotland: his mother, Anne Cruikshank, was sister to the distin-
guished anatomist whose name is so honourably associated with the professional
studies of John Hunter. In the education of most minds that attain to distin-
guished excellence, it will generally be found that the maternal care predomi-
nates in helping to form the young ideas, and give them their proper direction ;
and such was the good fortune of James Burnet, whose mother, during the
evening, was wont to aid him in the preparation of the school-room lessons for
the following day. He soon evinced his natural bias towards art, not only by
juvenile attempts in drawing, but his frequent visits to the studio of Scott, the
landscape engraver, with whom his brother John, afterwards so eminent as an
engraver, Avas a pupil. On account of these indications, James was placed
under the care of Liddel, to learn the mystery of wood-carving, at that time in
high request, and productive of great profit to those who excelled in it; and a^
skill in drawing was necessary for acquiring proficiency in this kind of delinea-
tion, he was also sent to the Trustees' Academy, where he studied under
Graham, the early preceptor of the most distinguished of our modern Scottish
artists. It was not wonderful that, thus circumstanced, James Burnet's taste
for carving in wood was soon superseded by the higher departments of art.
He quickly perceived the superiority of a well finished delineation upon canvas
or paper over the stiff cherubs, scrolls, and Avreaths that were laboriously
chiselled upon side-boards and bed-posts, and chose his vocation accordingly : he
would be an artist. With this view, he transmitted to his brother John, now
employed as an engraver in London, several specimens of his drawings, expressing
also his earnest desire to commence life as a painter in the great metropolis;
and without waiting for an answer, he impatiently foUov.'ed Ins application, in
person, and arrived in London in 1810. A letter of acquiescence from his
brother, which his hurry had anticipated, was already on the way to Edinburgli,

V, „

58 JAMES BURNET.

and therefore his arrival in London, although so sudden and unexpected, was
far from being unwelcome.

It required no long stay in the British capital to convince the young aspirant
that he had much yet to learn before he could become an artist. But he also
found that London could offer such lessons as Edinburgh had been unable to
furnish. This conviction first struck him on seeing Willcie's " Blind Fiddler,"
of which his brother John was executing the well-known and justly-admired
engraving. James was arrested and rivetted by the painting, so unlike all he
had hitherto admired and copied : it was, he perceived, in some such spirit as
this that he must select from nature, and imitate it, if he would succeed in his
daring enterprise. This conviction was further confirmed by studying the
productions of the eminent Dutch masters in the British Gallery, where he
found that originality of conception was not only intimately blended with the
truthfulness of nature, but made subservient to its authority. He must there-
fore study nature herself where she was best to be found — among the fields,
and beneath the clear skies, where the beauty of form and the richness of colour
presented their infinite variety to the artist's choice, and taught him the best
modes of arranging them upon the canvas. Forth he accordingly went, with
nothing but his note-book and pencil ; and among the fields, in the neighbour-
hood of London, he marked witli an observant eye the various objects that
most struck his fancy, and made short sketches of these, to be afterwards
amplified into paintings. It was remarked, also, in this collection of hasty
pencillings, that instead of seeking to aggrandize the works of natui-e, he faith-
fully copied them as he found them. "He has introduced," says a judicious
critic, speaking of one of his paintings, " everything that could in any way
characterize the scene. The rainbow in the sky, the glittering of the rain upon
the leaves ; the dripping poultry under the hedge, the reflections of the cattle
on the road, and the girl with the gown over her shoulders, all tend with
equal force to illustrate his subject." Not content, also, With the mere work of
sketching in the fields, he was accustomed to note down in his book such obser-
vations in connection with the sketch as might be available for the future pic-
ture, or those remarks in reference to light and sliade that were applicable to
painting in general. The result of this training w-as soon perceptible in the
increasing excellence of his successive productions, of which Allan Cunning-
ham, his biographer, well remarks: — " His trees are finely grouped ; his cows
are all beautiful ; they have the sense to know where the sweetest grass grows;
his milk-maids have an air of natural elegance about them, and his cow-boys are
not without grace."

Of the paintings of James Burnet, some of which are in the possession of his
relatives, and others among the costly picture galleries of our nobility, the fol-
lowing is a list : —

1 . Cattle going out in the morning. 7. Milking.

2. Cattle returning home in a shower.

3. Key of the byre.

4. Crossing the brook.
6. Cow-boys and cattle.
6. Breaking the ice.

8. Crossing the bridge.

9. Inside of a cow-house.

10. Going to market.

11. Cattle by a pool in summer.

12. Boy with cows.

While Burnet was thus pursuing a course of self-education that drew him on-
ward step by step in improvement, and promised to conduct him to a very high

ALLAN BURNS. 59

rank among pastoral and landscape painters, a disease had latterly attended him
in his wanderings, that too often selects the young and the sensitive for its
victims. This was consumption, a disease which his lonely habits and sedentary
employment in the open air were only too apt to aggravate; and, although a change
of scene and atmosphere was tried by his removal to Lee in Kent, it was soon
evident that his days were numbered. Even then, however, when scarcely able to
walk, he was to be found lingering among the beautiful scenery of Lee and Lewis-
ham, with his pencil and note-book in hand, and to the last he talked with his
friends about painting, and the landscapes that he still hoped to delineate, lie
died on the 27th of July, 1816. His dying wish was to be buried in the village
church of Lee, in whose picturesque church-yard he had so often vv^andered and
mused during the last days of his illness ; but as sepulture in that privileged
place could not be granted to a stranger, his remains were interred in the church-
yard of Lewisham. At his death he had only reached his twenty-eighth year.

BURNS, Allan. — This talented anatomist and surgical writer, in whom a
life of high promise was too soon arrested, was the son of the Rev. Dr. Burns,
minister of the Barony Church, Glasgow ; a venerable clergyman, who, after
bearing for several years tlie title of "father of the Church of Scotland," on ac-
count of his seniority, died in 1839, at the very advanced age of ninety-six.
Allan Burns was born at Glasgow on the 18th September, 1781. When not
more than fourteen years old, he entered the medical classes, where his diligence
and proficiency were so remarkable, that only two years afterwards, he was able
to undertake the entire direction of the dissecting-rooms of Mr. John Burns,
his brother, who at that time was a lecturer on anatomy and surgery in the city
of Glasgow. In this situation, his opportunities of extending and perfecting
his knowledge were so carefully employed, that he attained, even though still
a youtli, a high reputation among the practical anatomists of his day. Hia
views being directed to medical practice in the army, he went to London, in
1804, for the purpose of obtaining a commission ; but, before his application
was made to that effect, he received an offer that altered his intention. It was
to repair to St. Petersburg, and undertake the charge of an hospital which the
Empress Catherine was desirous of establishing in her capital, upon the English
plan. Allan Burns had been recommended to her majesty by Dr. Creighton,
as one every way qualified for this important charge ; and when the offer was
made, it was with the understanding that he might make a six months' trial
before finally closing witli it. Tempted by so alluring a prospect, Burns left
London for St. Petersburg, and commenced the duties of his new career. But
Russia was not at that time the country which it has now become, and the sen-
sitive mind of the young Scot was soon sickened by the Asiatic pomp and
Scythian barbarism with which he was surrounded. On this account, he aban-
doned the tempting prospects of court favour and professional advancement that
were held out to him, and returned to Scotland before the six months of proba-
tion had ended. At his departure, he was presented by the empress with a
valuable diamond ring, as a token of the royal approbation and esteem.

On returning to his native country, which was at the commencement of 1805,
Burns resolved to occupy the place of his brother, who had discontinued his
lectures on surgery and anatomy. This he did in the winter of the following
year, and quickly won tlie admiration of his pupils, by the correctness and
extent of his professional knowledge, and great power of illustration. Indeed,
as a lecturer, the most abstruse subjects in his hands became plain and palpablej

GO JOHN BURNS, M.D.

and the driest subjects full of interest. Still, however, notwithstanding his
reputation as a lecturer, his fame would have been limited and evanescent, had
it not been for the works he published, by which the high admiration of those
who knew him was participated in by the world at large. The first of these pub-
lications, which appeared in 1809, Avas entitled, "Observations on some of the
most Frequent and Important Diseases of the Heart : or Aneurism of the Thoracic
Aorta ; or Preternatural Pulsation in the Epigastric Region ; and on the Unusual
Oiiginand Distribution of some of the Large Arteries of the Human Body; Illus-
trated by Cases." The second, which was published in 1812, was entitled, " Ob-
servations on the Surgical Anatomy of the Head and Neck ; Illustrated by Cases."
This was the whole amount of his authorship, with the exception of two essays,
which hecontributed to the " Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal ;" one, on
the anatomy of the parts concerned in the operation for crural hernia ; the other,
on tlie operation of lithotomy. The career of professional distinction which
tliese works had so favourably opened up to him, was closed before it could be
further pursued. So early as 1810, his liealth had begun to give wa}', and though
he continued to lecture for two years afterwards, it was with great difficulty and
pain. IJis death occurred on tlie 22d of June, 1818.

BURNS, John, M.D., a distinguished medical Avritcr, and elder brother of
Allan, the subject of the preceding notice, was born in Glasgow, in 1774. He
was descended from a family of the name of Burn; his grandfather, John Burn,
was a teacher of English in Glasgow, and the author of an " English Grammar,"
bearing his name, a work highly popular as a school-book in the west of Scot-
land about a century ago. His father Avas the Rev. John Burns, D.D., who,
as has been already mentioned, was minister for upwards of sixty-nine years,
of the Barony Parish of Glasgow, and Avho died in 1839. John, Avho Avas
the eldest surviving son of Dr. Burns, Avas born in 1775. He began his profes-
sional studies in GlasgoAA', and continued them in Edinburgh. He had just
completed his studies Avhen the Glasgow Royal Infirmary, in Avliich he Avas
the first surgeon's clerk, AA'as opened for the reception of patients in 1792.
His faA'OUvite department of medical science Avas surgical anatomy, in Avliich
he made remarkable progress. He soon began to give instructions to others,
and Avas the first private teacher of anatomy in Glasgow. His lecture-room
AA'as originally at the head of Vii'ginia Street, at the north-Avest corner, behind
the present Union Bank. At that period, and for thirty years afterwards,
subjects for dissection could only be obtained by violating the repose of the
dead ; a practice most demoralizing to those immediately engaged in it, and not
unfrequently pi'oductive of unpleasant consequences to lecturers and students.
An aftair of this nature having transpired in connection Avith the lecture-room
of Mr. Burns, jiroceedings were instituted against him by the authorities, but
Avere quashed on his coming under a promise to discontinue his lectures on
anatomy. His younger brother Allan, hoAvever, took up the anatomical
lectures, and John began to lecture on midwifery. The lecture-room of the
brothers AA'as removed to a tenement built on the site of the old BrideAvell,
on the north side of College Street. They Avere both successful as lecturers.
Allan's style AA'as monotonous and unpleasing, but his demonstrations AA'ere ad-
mirable. John's manner Avas the more agreeable, his knoAvledge Avas exact, his
views were practical, and his lectures Avere interspersed Avitli anecdotes and
strokes of humour Avhich rendered them highly attractive to the students. Dr.
Burns now began to exhibit the fruits of his studies in a series of important

JOHN BURNS, M.D. 61

contributions to the literature of his pvofesLnon* His first publication of note
was the " Anatomy of tlie Gravid Uterus," which appeared in 1709. Tliis
was followed in 1800 by two volumes on " Inflammation," in which he was
the first to describe a species of cancer, which is now known by the name of
" fungus hoematodes." These two works stamped their author as an observing-,
original, and practical inquirer. They were followed by " Observations on
Abortion," in 180G ; "Observations on Uterine Iloeuiorrhage," in 1807 ; and
by the most popular of all his medical writings, " The Principles of Midwifery,"
in 1809 ; a book which has been translated into various languages, and has
passed through numerous editions. In 1828-38 appeared the " Principles of
Surgery," in two volumes, a work which cost Dr. Burns much pains, but did not
meet with con-esponding success. He likewise published a popular work on
the " Treatment of Women and Children."

Dr. Burns married, in 1801, the daughter of the Rev. John Duncan, minister
of the parish of Alva, in Stirlingshire, He continued to lectui*e on midwifery
till 1815, when the Crown instituted a regius professorship of surgery in the
university of Glasgow, to which chair he Vv'as appointed, and disciiarged its duties
till the close of his life. In 1810 his wife died, and he remained a widower
during the forty years that he survived her. By her he had four children, the
youngest, Allan, named after his uncle, was born in January, 1810.

At an early period in his professional career. Dr. Burns became surgeon to
tlie Royal Infirmary, and distinguished himself by the nerve with which he
operated. He subsequently became the partner of Mr. i\Iuir, and, after that
gentleman's death, of Mr. Alexander Dunlop, a connection which brought him
into excellent family pi'actice. His son, Allan, followed the medical profession,
and, having completed his studies, after a residence of three years on the Con-
tinent, he commenced practice in 1832. With an intimate knowledge of medi-
cal science, and a strong love of anatomical pursuits, he was rising fast into
eminence, when intermittent fever, caught in tlie prosecution of his duties,
carried him off after a short illness, in November, 1843, in the thirty-fourth year
of his age. It v>-as not till his son entered upon public practice, that the
subject of this memoir took out his degree, which he had previously refused
to do. He was shortly afterwards elected pliysician to the Royal Infirmary.
He had subsequently considerable practice as a consulting physician. Dr. Burns
had, however, been gradually retiring from the labours of his profession, when
the severe afiliction, caused by his son's death, befel him. lie then gave up
everything but his professorial duties, devoting much of his time to carrying
out the views of the principal and professors of the college as respected the
medical school — and, in token of their gratitude, he was requested by the
Senatus to sit for his portrait, which, having been painted by Mr. John Graham
Gilbert, was placed in the Hunterian museum of the college.

Early in life, and while yet a student in the university of Iv-linburgh, his
mind was imbued with those religious principles which regulated his whole
career, and sustained him amidst many afflictive bereavements. To the religious
world he became favourably-- known by a work entitled, *' The Principles of
Christian Philosophy," which has gone through several editions, and promises
to hold a permanent place in rtdigious literature. In this treatise, the author
illustrates the following propositions : — " Man is created for a future state of
happiness; the means by which a future state of happiness is procured; what
is required of man that he may obtain it; nature of, and preparation for,

C2 SIR ROBERT CALDER.

the future state of happiness; personal and relative duties ; the duties men owe
to God ; the admonitions and consolations afforded by the Christian religion."
The principles of the work are thoroughly scriptural and evangelical ; its style
is elegant, chaste, and grave ; its spirit earnest and solemnizing. It is the ut-
terance of a heart much exercised in affliction, and intimately conversant with
the sources of true and permanent consolation. It gives expression to remark-
ably elevating yet sober conceptions of the heavenly felicity, and dwells with
touching intei*est on the prospect of the re-union of the ties of affection severed
on earth. "The Christian Philosophy" is at once meditative, devotional, and
practical, and to many "mourners in Zion" the author must often have proved
himself "a son of consolation."

Dr. Burns also ])ublished another religious book, entitled, " Christian Frag-
ments." Although brought up in the Church of Scotland, of which he was an
elder, he became a member of the Episcopalian Church, and died in its com-
munion. His end was sudden and melancholy. He perished in the wreck of
the Orion steam-boat, on her passage from Liverpool to Glasgow, on the 18th
of June, 1850. Having finislied his course and kept the faith, he was removed
from the world in the attitude and exercise of prayer. He had reached the
mature age of seventy- five.

Dr. John Burns was F.R.S., and a member of the Institute of France, and
of several other scientific institutions in various countries. In politics, he was
a staunch Conservative. He was of a cheerful disposition, was a great favourite
with his patients, and towards his professional brethren he behaved on all occa-
sions in the most honourable manner. In person he was under the middle
height, with grey flowing locks, and his dress was scrupulously neat and antique.
Few individuals in Glasgow were unacquainted with his exterior, and thousands
who knew little of his professional attainments were yet familiar with his ap-
pearance as a venerable medical gentleman of the old school. His eldest and
only surviving son, Lieutenant-Colonel Burns, of the second Queen's Regiment,
died at the Cape of Good Hope towards the close of 185.?.

CALDER, Sir Robert, Bart, — It has been truly remarked by Ilallara, that
the state trials of England exhibit the most appalling accumulation of judicial
iniquity that can be found in any age or country-. And why ? Because, as
he adds, the monarch cannot wreak his vengeance, or the nobles vent the bit-
terness of their feuds, except in a law court, and by a legal process. The trials
connected with the history of the British navy, and the iniquitous sentences
passed upon some of our most heroic and deserving admirals, attest too fully the
truth of Hallam's observation. Byng, Matthews, Cochrane~the first shot, the
second cashiered, and the third imprisoned, from no adequate cause, or without
cause whatever, are cases that seem to carry us back, not to the dark ages, when
iieroism at least was fairly appreciated, but to the old Carthaginian periods, when
the bravest generals were crucified as often as their rivals entered into place and
power. A fourth British admiral, who was the victim of an unjust trial and
most undeserved punishment, was Sir Robert Calder, the subject of the present
notice. And we judge it the more necessary to introduce him with the preced -

SIR ROBERT CALDER. (j3

ing remarks, as it is only now, after the lapse of many years, that men are dis-
posed to render full justice to his memory and worth.

Robert Calder was the second son of Sir Thomas CalJer of Muirton, Moray,
shire, and was born at Elgin on the 2d of July, 1745. At the age of fourteen
he entered the navy as midshipman. At the age of twenty-one he had attained
the rank of lieutenant on board the Essex, commanded by the lion. George
Falkner, and served on the "West India station. Promotion, however, was long
in coming, for it was not imtil many years had elapsed that he obtained the
command of a ship. In 1782, he was captain of the Diana, which was employed
as a repeating frigate to Rear- Admiral Kempenfelt. At this period, also, he
was an unwilling sharer in one of those events which the British historian is
compelled to record to the shame of our glorious navy. The united fleets of
France and Spain had appeared upon our coasts; but Sir Charles Hardy who
commanded the English fleet, was ordered not to risk an engagement, so that he
was obliged to retire between the Wolf-rock and the Main. Such an inglorious
retreat, at a time when the flag of Rodney was triumphant, so maddened our
gallant tars, that they muffled with their hammocks a figure-head of George III.,
swearing that his majesty should not be witness of their flight. Captain Calder,
who belonged to the rear-division, so fully sympathized in their feelings, that,
although his vessel was within a short distance of a large French two-decker,
that could have blown him out of the water by a single broadside, he kept his
place, until he was peremptorily ordered by signal to retire.

On the renewal of war with France, Captain Calder was employed in various
services, from which little individual distinction was to be acquired ; but in
these he acquitted himself so well as to establish his character for naval skill
and courage. He was finally appointed captain of the fleet by Sir John Jervis,
and was present at the memorable engagement of the 14th of February, 1797,
off Cape St. Vincent, when the Spanish fleet of twenty-seven sail of the line and
twelve frigates was completely defeated by Jervis, Avith only fifteen ships and
six frigates. On this great occasion, where Nelson and Collingwood were the
heroes of the encounter. Captain Calder acquitted himself so ably, that on being
sent home with the despatches, he was honoured with knighthood, and after-
wards made a baronet. On the 14th of February, 1799, he rose in the service
by seniority to the rank of rear-admiral; and, in 1801, was sent with a small
squadron in chase of Admiral Gantheaume, who was carrying supplies to the
French army in Egypt. A short-lived peace soon followed, and Sir Robert
Calder retired to his residence in Hampshire, from which he was quickly re-
called to sea by the renewal of hostilities with France; and, in 1804, he was
raised to the rank of Vice-admiral of the White.

This fresh commencement of war was an event of more than common im-
portance to Great Britain. Its liberty, its very existence as a nation, was now at
stake ; for Bonaparte, hitherto so successful in all his enterprises, had resolved
to invade it, and for this purpose was making preparations at Boulogne com-
mensurate with what he meant to be his crowning enterprise. An immense
flotilla was constructed and put in readiness to convey an army of 150,000
veteran soldiers from Boulogne to the shores of Kent, after which, a march upon
London was deemed an easy achievement. Still further to insure the facilities
of such an invasion, these flat-bottomed transports were ostentatiously armed,
as if they alone were intended to force a passage across the British Channel, and
thus the attention of our statesmen was withdrawn from the real point where

64

blR ROBERT CALDEll.

danger was to be apprehended. This consisted in the contemplated junction of
the French and Spanish fleets, which was to he effected while the eyes of Eng-
land were exclusively fixed upon the land show of preparations going on at
Boulogne. While these wavlike boats were intended for transports, and nothing
more, Napoleon's real design was to collect forty or fift^^ ships of the line in tl'-o
harbour of ]\Iartinic[ue, by operations combined in the harbours of Toulon,
Cadiz, Ferrol, and Brest; to bring them suddenly back to Boulogne; and while
tlius making himself for fifteen days master of the sea, to have his whole army
transported into England without interruption.

Ts'^ever, perhaps, since the days of William the Conqueror, had England betti
in such imminent jeopardy. While her statesmen were still thrown off their
guard, and imagining that the only danger lay in the flotilla, the vessels prepar-
ing in the ports of Ferrol, Cadiz, and Carthagena consisted of thirty-eight
French, and thirty Spanish ships of the line ; and these, if combined, would
have been sufficient to hold the English Channel against all the force which our
nation could muster. To attempt a blockade of the hostile harbours was the
only expedient that occurred to the British government in this emergency, and
the important task of blockading the ports of Ferrol and Corunna was intrusted
to Sir Robert Calder. Even yet, however, the design of Bonaparte was so little
surmised, that Sir Robert's force on this occasion uas utterly' incommensurate
with the greatness of the crisis, for only seven sail were allowed him, which were
afterwards raised to nine ; and with these he was to prevent five French ships
of the line and three frigates, and five Spanish ships of the line and four frigates,
from leaving the hostile harbours. Thus the blockade was to be maintained by
a force which was greatly inferior to that of the enemy. Undismayed by this
disparity, Sir Robert entered his appointed station, and maintained it, notwith-
standing the manoeuvres of the Brest squadron to entice him into the open sea.

At length the moment arrived which Bonaparte had so keenly anticipated.
The imperfect blockades of the British had been in several cases eluded ; the
W^est Indies had been reached by several hostile squadrons ; and Nelson, who had
gone in pursuit without being able to reach them, only learned at the last mo-
ment, that the combined French and Spanish fleets had set sail from Martinique,
and were in full return to Europe. A swift sailing vessel, which he sent with
this intelligence, happily outstripped the combined fleet, and thus, at the last
moment, and by an intervention truly providential, the British government
was put upon its guard. Tlie first movement of the enemy, to which they were
directed in consequence of the express command of Bonaparte, was to raise the
blockade of Ferrol, and that accomplished, to proceed with the Frencli and
Spanish ships lying there to the relief of the other ports, by which their whcle
combined navy would becollectedin full force in the English Channel, Sir Robert
Calder was thus to abide the first brunt of the onset, and upon the stoutness of •
his resistance the issue of the great trial between France and England would
mainly depend. Conscious of this, the British government despatched instant
orders to rear-admiral Stirling, who commanded a squadron before Rochefort,
to raise the blockade of that harbour, join Sir Robert Calder off Ferrol, and
cruise with him off Cape Finisterre, to intercept the allied fleet of the enemy
on their homeward passage to Brest.

As soon as the junction between the two British squadrons vi'as effected. Sir
Robert Calder stood out to sea, ond quickly reached the station appointed for liis
cruise. Although the addition of Stirling's squadron raised his whole force to

SIR EOBEUT CALDElf. C5

nothing more than fifteen ships of the line, two frigates, a cutter, and a lugger,
he liad little fear of the issue, as the French and Spanish fleet was supposed to
amount to only sixteen ships. But as soon as the enemy hove in sight, looming
through a fog that had concealed their approach until they were close at hand, it
was found that they consisted of twenty line-of-battle ships, a fifty gun ship,
seven frigates, and two brigs. This was an unexpected and startling disparity ;
hut Sir Robert boldly entered into action, although the fog that had commenced
in the morning made it necessary for his ships, which bore down in two columns,
to tack before they reached the enemy. A close action of four hours ensued, in
which tlie British, notwithstanding their inferiority of numbers, behaved with
such gallantry and spirit that a signal victory would probably have been the
consequence, had it not been for the haze, which became so dense, that Sir
Robert was scarcely able to see his sliips either ahead or astern. As it was, he
had already captured two large Spanish ships, the Rafael of eighty-four, and tlie
Firme of seventy-four guns ; and judging it imprudent to continue the fight,
he brought-to, for the purpose of covering his prizes, and waiting an opportunity
to renew the engagement. On the following day, the French and Spanisli
fleet, having the advantage of the windward, advanced within a league and a-
half of the British, upon which, Sir Robert hauling on the wind, offered them
battle ; but Villeneuve, the admiral of the combined fleet, refused the challenge,
by hauling to the wind on the same tack as his adversary. On the third day,
Sir Robert once more offered battle, but in vain : and being now justly appre-
hensive of the union of the enemy with the Rochefort and Ferrol squadrons,
under whose combined force his own would have been overwhelmed, he fell
back, relying upon the support of the Channel fleet, or that of Lord Nelson,
while Villeneuve, instead of holding on in his course, was fain to retire into
Ferrol. This meeting, that was fraught with such momentous consequences,
occurred in lat. 43 80' north, and long. 11' 17' west, or about forty leagues from
Ferrol, on the 22d of July, 1805.

Nothing could exceed the rage and vexation of Napoleon at this engagement
and its result. lie saw, that by this single stroke, all his preparations at Boulogne
were frustrated, and tlie projected invasion of England rendered hopeless. As
soon as he received the tidings, he summoned Count Daru, his private seeretarj-
into the apartment, who, on entering, found the emperor traversing the room
witli hurried steps, and exclaiming, " What a navy ! What sacrifices for
nothing ! What an admiral ! All hope is gone ! That Villeneuve, in-
stead of entering the Channel, has taken refuge in Ferrol I It is all over : he
will be blockaded there. Daru, sit down and write." Daru took up his
pen accordingly, and, with the rapidity of lightning, Napoleon dictated the de-
tails of the breaking up of the army at Boulogne, the routes aud movements of
the different corps, and all the complicated minuti^e of the campaign that ended
so triumphantly at Austerlitz. In this manner, the terrible storm that was to
have gatliered and burst over London, was suddenly wafted away to the shores
of the Danube and the devoted palaces of Vienna. Speaking of his disappoint-
ment in after years, Bonaparte said, "If Admiral Villeneuve, instead of entering
into the harbour of Ferrol, had contented himself with joining the Spanisli
squadron, and instantly made sail for Brest and joined Admiral Gantheaume,
my army would have embarked, and it was all over with England."

While such was the judgment of Napoleon upon this event — and certainly no
one was so fitted to tell its consequences — a very different estimation was made

V. I

GG SIR ROBERT CALDER.

of it in England. There, a long series of naval victories had so pampered the
public vanity, that the defeat of a British fleet was deemed impossible, and any
thing short of its full success a proof of the most culpable negligence and short-
coming. It \vas the counterpart of that land-delusion which made our coun-
trymen imagine that every British soldier was able to beat three Frenchmen,
until subsequent events reduced them to a more reasonable calculation. Of
this overweening estimate Sir Robert Calder was soon to taste the bitter
fruits. He had encountered a fleet, no matter how superior to his own, and not
annihilated it ; he had alloAved it to slip through his fingers, and find shelter in
a friendly harbour. In the meantime, the unconscious victim of such unreason-
able obloquy was congratulating himself on his services, and anticipating nothing
less than the approbation of his country. With an inferior force he had blocked
up the enemy in port for nearly five months ; he had afterwards encountered
and held the combined fleet at bay when their ships greatly outnumbered his
own, and made two valuable captures without losing a single vessel. These
advantages were so justly appreciated by Lord Cornwallis, his superior in com-
mand, that on the 17th of August (1805), Calder was sent back with twenty
ships to Ferrol, from which Villeneuve had ventured out at the express com-
mand of Napoleon, to join th'e French fleet at Brest ; but, on hearing of Sir
Robert Calder's approach, instead of pursuing his course, he tacked about and
made sail for Cadiz, which he reached on the 21st. Thus Calder had the honour
of baffling, for the second time, an expedition, upon which the fate of England
was at stake ; and Villeneuve, shut up in Cadiz, was obliged to remain at anchor-
age there, until all was ready for the crushing disaster at Trafalgar.

But the same winds that carried Calder against his antagonist, and enabled
him once more to baffle the most cherished of Napoleon's objects, also bore to
his ears the murmurs of the Admiralty at home, and made him acquainted
with the public prints in which his courage as a British sailor, and his loyalty
as a British subject, were equally called in question. Indignant at these ini-
quitous aspersions, and the eagerness with which they were received, he resolved
to right himself by a public trial. He therefore demanded from the Lords of
the Admiralty the sitting of a court-martial upon his conduct, notwithstanding
the earnest entreaties of Nelson that he should remain on the station, and await
the expected engagement, in which his reputation would be fully cleared. On,
finding, however, that his brother- admiral was impatient of an hour's delay until
his character was vindicated, the hero of the Nile sent him home in the Prince
of Wales, his own ship of ninety guns, to do Calder the greater honour, although
such a diminution from the fleet could be ill spared at that period. On the
aii'ival of the vessel at Spithead, the court-martial was held on board, on the
23d of December, 1805. After the witnesses had been examined, Sir Robert
entered upon his defence. He quoted several recent cases in which our best
naval commanders had refrained from the renewal of an encounter without any
impeachment of the propriety of their forbearance. He stated that the Rochefort
and Ferrol squadrons, to the irumber of twenty sail of the line, were supposed to
be at sea when the battle of the 22d of July occurred ; and that had he waited
for their junction with the enemy, whose force already so greatly exceeded his
own, he must have been utterly overpowered. Even had he been only disabled
in the encounter, these rmited squadrons might have pressed onward for Ireland,
or even for England, and thus have facilitated the long- threatened invasion of
our countrj'. In this case, it was necessary to preserve his fleet for ulterior ope-

SIR ROBERT CALDER. 67

rations, instead of risking a renewal of the action, and tlie more especially so,
that on the morning after the battle, he found himself eight or nine miles to
leeward, while some of his ships were so greatly disabled, that they could not
carry sufficient sail to windward, and others were wholly out of sight. Matters
being such, and believing that the design of the enem}^ was to reach FeiTol, and
there unite with the blockaded squadron, he had done what he could : he had
thrown himself between the port of Ferrol and the combined fleet for two days
under an easy press of sail, neither offering nor shunning an encounter ; and as
often as the enemy menaced a renewal of action, he had accepted the challenge
by hauling upliis wind. All this he stated at large, and with the most convincing
perspicuity; and, at the close, he burst forth with the indignant eloquence of
injured worth upon the wrong with which himself and his brave companions
had been treated, and the manner in which his despatches had been mutilated,
and some important parts of them suppressed, for the purpose of deepening the
odium under which thej^ were now suffering. But his arguments and his elo-
quence were in vain ; a scape-goat was needed to carry off upon its innocent
liead tlie manifold blunders of the Admiralty, and Sir Eobert Calder had been
selected for this office. His defence accordingly was overruled, and on the 26th,
the following sentence was pronounced : — " The Coxut is of opinion, that the
charge of not having done his utmost to renew the engagement, and to take and
destroy every ship of the enemy, has been proved against the said vice-admiral
Sir Robert Calder; that it appears that his conduct has not been actuated either
by cowardice or disaffection, but has arisen solely from error in judgment, and is
highly censurable, and dotli adjudge him to be severely reprimanded; and the
said vice-admiral. Sir Robert Calder, is hereby severely reprimanded ac-
cordingl}'."

It would be ridiculous, in the present day, when the conduct of this gallant
admiral is so well understood, and the greatness of his services so thoroughly
appreciated, to allude to the injustice of such a sentence. It stands solitary
and aloof, with the brand upon its forehead, and can only now condemn none
but its authors. And happy will it be for them if their names can escape into
utter obscurit}', with the names of those who sat in judgment upon Miltiades
and Scipio. In the defence of Sir Robert Calder, we perceive that he had made
an indignant allusion to the mutilation and curtailment of his despatches. This
serious charge unfortunately was too true, and the admiralty itself was guilty
of the crime. In their published account, the following passage of Sir Robert
was retained : — " The enemy are now in sight to windward ; and when I have
secured the captured ships, and put the squadron to rights, I shall endeavour to
avail myself of any further opportunity that may offer to give you a further
account of these combined squadrons." In consequence of this announcement,
a meeting between the hostile fleets for the renewal of the contest was antici-
pated ; and as the hours went onward, the public ear in London was on the
alert for the firing of the Tower guns, to announce a glorious victory. But
the following passage, which would have abated this ardour, was omitted :— -
"At the same time, it will behove me to be on my guard against the combined
squadrons in Ferrol, as I am led to believe that they have sent off one or two
of their crippled ships last night for that port ; therefore, possibly I may find
it necessary to make a junction with you immediately off Ushant with the
whole squadron." Had the admiralty published this part of Sir Robert's des-
patch, as they oui:lit to have done, the nation would have seen at once that it

GS DONALD CAMERON.

was impossible, with only fourteen ships ready for action, to encounter the
opposite eighteen, should the latter be joined by the twenty line-of-battle ships
whose arrival Avas hourly expected. But a sensation was to be produced, and
hope excited, and therefore the chilling paragraph was fraudulently withheld.
And when no victory ensued, the perpetrators of this deed endeavoured to con-
ceal their blunder, and avert the public wrath by a condemnation that ought
to have fallen, not upon Calder, but upon themselves.

Although the sentence of the court-martial was expected to soothe the
popular disappointment, and for a short time succeeded, yet let no statesman
venture upon such experiments with the British public. John Bull is reckoned
indeed the very type of gullibility, and with good reason; but the honesty of
heart in which this weakness originates is sure to recover the ascendancy, and
examine the trial anew, in which case, the false witness and unrighteous judge
have equally cause to tremble. Thus it was in the case of Sir Robert Calder.
The public began to suspect that he had been unjustly dealt with, and further
inquiry only strengthened the suspicion. The same feeling, although more
tardily, at length obtained an entrance into head- quarters; and, in 1810, Mr.
Yorke, then first lord of the Admiralty, ventured to express his conviction that
Sir Robert had deserved very different treatment. In parliament, also, the
same sentiment was expressed by the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Romncy.
The result of this return to a proper feeling upon the suliject, was the offer to
Sir Robert, on the part of Mr. Yorke, of the important command of Plymouth,
v.hich the former accepted as a full testimony of his acquittal and recognition
of his public services and worth. After Sir Robert Calder had held the appoint-
ment for three years, he died at Holt, near Bishop's Waltham, in Hants, on
the 31st of August, 1818, in the 74th year of his age.

CAMERON, Donald, of Lochiel — This gallant Highland chief, who united
such amiable manners and attractive accomplishments to the proverbial hardi-
hood and valour of his race, that his name has descended to us under tlie title
of "the gentle Lochiel," occupies the most conspicuous place in the histor}- of
the unfortunate rebellion of 1745, and may be considered as the fairest type of
those chivalrous men by whom such a romantic lustre has been thrown over
Jacobite loyalty and devotedness. He was grandson of that Sir Ewan Came-
ron, chief of Lochiel, of whom so many remarkable stories have been told, that
he passes among Lowlanders as the Amadis de Gaul, or Guy of Warwick of tho
Highlands. Not the least remembered of these was his supreme contempt for
Saxon effcminac}', so that in a night bivouac among the snow, he kicked a
snowball from under his son's head, exclaiming, " What ! are you become so
luxurious that you cannot sleep without a pillow 1" John Cameron, of Loch-
iel, the father of Donald, for the share he had taken in the rebellion of 1715,
was obliged to escape to France, and in consequence of his attainder, the subject
of this notice succeeded to the estates of his ancestors, and chieftainship of the
clan. On account of his father being still alive, he was commonly called by
the Highlanders "j'oung Lochiel," although he was of mature age when he
entered the field; but the precise j^ear of his birth we are unable to discover.

As the grandfather and father of Donald had been steadfast adherents to the
cause of the Stuarts, and as the clan Camei'on was both numerous and powerful,
the Chevalier de St. George opened a correspondence with the present chief, and
invested him with full powers to negotiate in Scotland for the restoration of the
exiled dynasty. Such was the state of affairs when the young Pretender, accora-

panied with only seven attendants, landed upon the western coast, and sent
tidings to all his adherents in the neighbourhood of his arrival and its purposes.
They were astounded at the intelligence. Had he come at the head of a strong
re-inforcement of foreii^n troops, and supplied with money for the expenses ot
a campaign, the whole Highlands might have been armed in his cause, and the
result would scarcely have been doubtful ; but, on the present occasion, the
Highland chieftains well kncAv that the hope of overturning three kingdoms by
their own resources was utter madness, and that the attempt would onl}^ preci-
pitate themselves and their follov/ers into certain destruction. But now the
Prince Avas among them, and all but alone: he had thrown himself upon their
loyalty, and could they requite it with ingratitude ? Such was the generous
disinterested feeling with which the chiefs embarked in this desperate under-
taking, and not from overweening confidence in their own valour, or hope of
tlie rewards of conquest. They saw nothing before them but death on the field
or the scaffold ; and although their first successes tended to remove these gloomy
forebodings, they returned in full strength with the retreat from Derby, and
were confirmed upon the field of Culloden.

In all these fears Lochiel fully participated. As soon, therefore, as he heard
of the Prince's arrival, he sent his brother, Dr, Archibald Cameron, to warn
liim of the consequences of the enterprise. This the doctor did faithfully
and earnestly; he even told the Prince that his brother could not and would
not join him under such circumstances. But he spoke to the son of a
doomed race, whom no warnings could enlighten, nor aid restore to their
forfeited throne. Still, however, Charles felt that without the co-opera-
tion of Lochiel it was useless to advance, and he therefore sent Macdonald the
younger, of Scothouse, requesting a personal interview with the Cameron at
Borodale. Perhaps he was aware of the marvellous power that accompanies
the petitions of a prince. The chief complied with an invitation which he could
not well refuse, but he set out with a firm resolution to have nothing to do
with the Prince's undertaking. This he expressed to his brotlier, John Came-
ron, of Fassefern, upon whom he called on his way. As soon as Fassefern
learned that Charles had arrived without money, arms, or troops, he approved
of his brother's purpose not to join tbe expedition, but advised him to commu-
nicate this by letter; but when Lochiel persisted in continuing his journey to
Borodale, as the best opportunity for justifying his refusal, Fassefern replied,
"Brother, 1 know you better than you know yourself. If this prince once
seta his eyes upon you, he will make you do whatevei- he pleases."

In the interview that followed between the Prince and his chivalrous adher-
ent, this prediction was too well verified. The latter stated, that as his royal high-
ness had come without the promised supplies in men and money, the Highland
chiefs were released from their engagements ; and he advised Charles to return
to France, and await a more favourable opportunity. To this the Prince replied,
that no such opportunity as the present might again occur — that most of the
British troops were abroad, and the few newly-raised regiments at home would
be unable to withstand the army of Highlanders that could be brought into the
field — and that a few advantages at the outset would insure him eff^ectual assist-
ance both at home and from abroad. Unpersuaded by these arguments, which
were more showy than solid, Lochiel advised a middle course: this was, that
the Prince should dismiss his attendants, and his ship the Doutelle, back to
France, so that it might be thought that himself had returned with them ; and

70 DONALD CAMERON.

that, in the meantime, his highness might remain concealed in the Highlands,
where he would guarantee his full safety until the court of France could send
over an armament to their aid. This, however, Charles rejected, declai-ing that
the court of France would never believe he had a party in Scotland until an
insurrection had actually commenced. Thus driven from every point of dis-
suasion, Lochiel had recourse to his last inducement, by entreating that his
highness would remain at Borodale until the Highland chiefs could bo assem-
bled, when they might deliberate in concert what was best to be done in the
present state of affairs; but this prudent proposal Charles also indignantly refused.
" In a few days," he exclaimed, "and with the few friends that I have, I will erect
the royal standard, and proclaim to the people of Britain that Charles Stuart
is come over to claim the crown of his ancestors — to win it, or to perish in the
attempt: Lochiel, whom my father has often told me, was our firmest friend,
maj'^ stay at home, and from the newspapers learn the fate of his prince." This
taunt,, which touched so keenly the honour of the high-minded chief, decided
him at once, and he cried, "No ! I'll share the fate of my prince; and so shall
every man over whom nature or fortune has given me any power'" In this
way " the gentle Lochiel " was overthrown and taken captive by what many
will reckon a mere punctilio. In his case, too, it was the more to be regretted,
as not only his own fate and that of his clan were at stake, but the introduction
of a civil war which, but for his influence and example, would either not have
happened, or have begun and terminated in a petty skirmish.

Having gained over a chief so powerful and influential, the Pretender thought
that he might proceed at once to action, and accordingly he announced his
purpose to raise the royal standard on the 19th of August at Glenfinnan, where
all his Highland adherents were warned to be in readiness. In the meantime,
Lochiel went home to muster his clan for the gathering. When the period
had arrived, Charles, who had row been three weeks in the Highlands without
the secret being divulged, embarked from Kinlochmoidart, with twenty-fivs
attendants in three boats, and reached Glenfinnan on the morning of the ren-
dezvous. And dreary was the prospect that welcomed him to his expected
kingdom ; for he found himself in a dark narrow glen, bounded on both sides
by high rocky mountains ; and instead of the gallant muster of impatient clans
by whom he hoped his coming would be greeted, there were no persons but the
inhabitants of the few wretched hovels sprinkled at wide intervals along the
glen, who stood at their doors, or among the distant precipices, to gaze at the
arrival of tlie strangers. Dispirited at this appearance of remissness on the part
of his friends, Charles retired to one of these hovels, where after two anxious hours
of suspense, his ears were gladdened by the sound of a distant bagpipe. It was the
clan Cameron hastening to the try sting place, with Lochiel at their head. They
were from seven to eight hundred strong, while in point of arms, discipline, and
equipments, they formed the elite of that rebel army by which such singular
successes were obtained both in Scotland and England. The Camerons also did
not come to the meeting empty-handed, for they brought with them, as prisoners,
a party of the royalist soldiers, who had been surprised in the neighbourhood of
Loch Lochie. On the arrival of Lochiel and his followers, CJiarles, without
waiting for the rest of the clans, proclaimed war in due form against the "Elector
of Hanover," raised his silk banner of white, blue, and red, and proclaimed his
father sovereign of the British empire. After this ceremony new volunteers
arrived, by which the Prince soon found himself at the head of a little arn j of

DONALD CxVMERON. 71

twelve hundred men. With such an army, -where nearly one-half were very
imperfectly armed, and ^Yith only one guinea in his pocket when he reached
the fair city of Perth, the young Chevalier commenced his daring march for the
overthrow of three kingdoms. It has often been reckoned one of the maddest
freaks in military history — hut how would it have been characterized had it
succeeded, which it almost did? The wonderful successes of Montrose, with
means as inadequate, were not yet forgotten in the Highlands.

The rest of the career of Lochiel is so closely connected with the events of the
campaign of 174.5, that a full detail of them would necessarily include a narra-
tive of the whole rebellion. We can, therefore, only specify a few particulars.
The town of Perth, which fell into the hands of the insurgents after they
commenced their descent into the Lowlands, was taken by a party of the
Camerons. On crossing the Forth, the great difficulty was to restrain the High-
landers from plundering, as they committed much havoc among the sheep, which
they hunted and shot as if they had been hares, and cooked in their own rude
fashion. A summary act of justice, executed by Lochiel upon one of these
marauders, is thus described by Dugald_ Graham, the Homer of this eventful

rebellion : —

This (lid enrage the Cameron's chief,
To see his men so piny the thief;
And finding one into the act,
He fired, and shot him through the back ;
Then to tho rest himself addressed : —
' This is your lot, I do protest,
"Whoe'er amongst you wrongs a man;
Pay what you get, I tell you plain ;
For yet wo know not friend or foe,
Kor how all thingis may chance to go.'"

It was a just and humane order, enforced by politic considerations, and as
such, it must have greatly aided in procuring for the wild miscellaneous army
that character for forbearance by which it was afterwards distinguished. On
reaching Edinburgh, which had closed its gates, and refused to surrender,
Charles, with the army of Sir John Cope at his heels, was anxious to place his
wild followers within the walls of the ancient capital, but without the bloodshed
of a storm, and the odium which such an event would occasion. This resolution,
■which was so congenial to the character of Lochiel, the gallant chief undertook to
execute ; and with a select detachment of nine hundred men he marched by
night to the city gates, which, however, were too jealously watched to give him
access. While he waited for an opportunity, a hackney coach, filled with
deputies, that had been sent from the town- council to the Prince's head-
quarters, and were returning home by the Canongate, suddenly appeared. As
soon as the gate opened to admit them, a party of Highlanders rushed in, dis-
armed the guards in a twinkling, and cleared the Avay for their fellows. In
this way Edinburgh was captured without shedding a drop of blood, or even
making so much noise as to disturb the sleep of its inhabitants. Lochiel again
appears on the very foreground of Prestonpans, the victory of which was chiefly
attributed to his clan, by whom the dragoons were routed, and the royalist foot
left wholly uncovered. In charging cavalry, which was a new event in High-
land warfare, he ordered his men to rush forward boldly, and strike at the noses
of the horses with their broadswords, without caring about the riders; and the
consequence was, that these formidable-looking cavaliers were chased off the

72 DONALD CAMERON.

field by a single onset. In the unsuccessful expedition into England wliich
followed this victory, theCamerons were always found at their post, while the
conduct of their chief was distinguished throughout the advance and retreat by
the same combination of prudence, courage, and clemency. Strangely enough,
however, it happened that he, the "gentle Lochiel" was, on one occasion, mis-
taken for a cannibal or an ogre. In England fearful tales had been reported of ti.e
Highlanders, and among others, that they had claws instead of hands, and fed
upon human flesh. On that account, one evening, when he entered the lodging,'
that had been assigned to him, the poor landlady threw herself at his feet, and
besought him, with uplifted hands and weeping ej'es, to take her life, bu: spare
her two children. Astonished at this, he asked her what she meant, when she
told him, everybody had said that the Highlanders ate children as their common
food. A few kind words sufficed to disabuse her ; and opening the door of a press,
she cried oat with a voice of joy, " Come out, children, the gentleman wont eat
you," upon which the two little prisoners emerged from tiieir concealment, and
fell at his feet.

At the winding up of this wild tragedy on Culloden Moor, Lochiel had his
full share of disappointment and disaster. He was one of the advocates of a
night surprise of the English ai'my, and when the unsuccessful attempt wa6
made, he was one of its principal leaders. In the battle that followed next da}',
the Camerons were described by eye-witnesses as advancing to the charge
" with their bonnets pulled tightly over their brows, their bodies half-bent,
their shields raised so as to cover the head and vital parts, and their broad-swords
quivering in their nervous gripe: they sprung forward upon their foes like
crouching tigers, their eyes gleaming with an expression fierce and terrific to
the last degree." The whole front rank fell ; and, in spite of their devoted
efforts to protect their chief, Lochiel himself received several severe wounds in
the legs, and was carried off the field. Such was the termination which his own
prudence had apprehended from the beginning, without needing the predictions
of " the death-boding seer," but to which he had committed himself from a
mistaken sense of honour and of duty. After this defeat, by which all the ad-
herents of the Pretender were scattered and hunted upon their native mbuntains,
Lochiel, having skulked for two months in his own district, at last withdrew
himself to the borders of Rannoch, where he took up his abode in a miserable
hovel on the side of the mountain Benalder, to be cured of his wounds. Here,
on the morning of the SOth of August (1746), he and his few attendants v/ere
startled by the unwelcome apparition of a party of men advancing to the dwell-
ing; and thinking that they were enemies from the camp a few miles distant,
who had tracked them to their hiding-place, they prepared to receive them with
a volley of musketry. Tlieir weapons were pointed for the occasion, and in
another instant would have given fire, when Lochiel suddenly stopped them ;
he discovered that the strangers were no other than the Prince himself. Dr.
Cameron his brother, and a few guides, who had heard in their wanderings of
his whereabouts, and were coming to visit him ! One moment more, and
Charles might have lain stretched on the heath by the hand of the best and
most devoted of his followers. On discovering who his visitor was, the chief,
who was lamed in the ancles from his wounds, limped out to welcome him, and
would have knelt upon the ground, when Charles prevented him with, *' No,
my dear Lochiel; we do not know who may be looking from the top of yonder
hills, and if they see any such motions they will immediately conclude that I

DONALD CAMERON.

am here." Seldom lip.ve prince and subject met under such circumstances of
adversity. As the royal wanderer had long been a stranger to a comfortable meal,
some minced collops were fried for him with butter in a large saucepan, to
which the luxury of a silver spoon was added ; and poor Charles, after partak-
ing very heartily of these savoury viands, could not help exclaiming, " Now,
gentlemen, I live like a prince ! " Turning to Lochiel, he asked, " Have you
ahvaj's fared so well during your retreat?" " Yes, sir," replied the chief, "for
nearly three months past I liave been hereabout with my cousin Cluny; he has
])rovided for me so well, that I have had plenty of such as you see, and I thank
Heaven your royal highness has got through so many dangers to take a
part."

Soon after this nieeting, two vessels of war, despatched by the French govern-
ip.ent, arrived, and in these Charles and about a hundred of his adlierents, of
whom Lochiel was one, embarked at Lochnanuagh, on the 20th of September,
Soon after his arrival in France, Lochiel received the command of a regiment in
the French service, to which the young Chevalier wished a title of British
nobility to be added ; but this tlie Prince's father refused, observing very
justly, that it would create envy in the other Highland chiefs who might
expect a similar distinction ; and that Lochiel's interest and reputation in his
own country, and his being at the head of a regiment in France, would give
I him more consideration there than any empty title he could bestow. B.y this
time, howevei-, the mere question of a coronet was of little importance to the
brave and good Lochiel, for he died in his place of exile in 1740. At his death,
he left two sons, of whom John, the eldest, succeeded to his father's regiment,
but died in early life. Charles, the younger, who succeeded to the family
claims of his brother, obtained leases ivoni the British Crown of parts of the
iamily estate upon very easy terms, and received a commission in the 71st High-
landers, to which regiment he added a company of clansmen of his own raising.
On the regiment being ordered for foreign service, his Camerons refused to
embark without him, upon which, though he was dangerously ill in London,
1.0 hurried down to Glasgow to appease them, but found that this had been
successfully done by Colonel Frasev of Lovat, the commander of the regiment.
This violent exertion, however, was too much for his exhausted strength, so that
he died soon afterwards. Nothing, it is said, could exceed the enthusiasm v/ith
which the arrival of Charles Cameron was welcomed by the citizens of Glasgow,
for it Avas their conviction that it was his father v/ho had prevented their city
from being plundered by the rebel army in 1745.

Another member of the Lochiel family still remains to be mentioned; this
was Dr. Archibald Cameron, whose name has already occurred more than once
in the course of this notice. After having endured his share of the hard-
ships which befell the rebel army, and aided the Prince in his wanderings among
the Highlands, he was one of those who embarked at Lochnanuagh, and reached
France in safety. Some doubtful causes, however, not sufficiently explained,
liut which seem to have been altogether unconnected with politics, induced liim
to return to Scotland privately in 1740, and subsequently in 1753; but at his
last visit he was apprehended, tried at London, and sentenced to be hanged at
Tybuvn, as one of tlie attainted persons who had been '-'out" in 1745. Re was
the last victim of the-feavs or the vengeance of government; and many even of
itsbest friends thought that after so long an interval, and on account of his
well-known amiable character, his life ought to have been spared.

^'' K

74 sill ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL.

CA1\IPBELL, Sir Archibald, Bart., G.C.B., &c., was a son cf Arcliibald
Campbell, liGutenant in tlie army, by his wife, Margaret, daughter of Captain
James Small. Having taken up the military profession like a family inherit-
ance, Archibald entered the army in 1787, with the rank of ensign, in conse-
quence of having raised twenty recruits for the service. Early in the following
year he embarked with his regiment, the 77th, for India, and was eraploj^ed in
active service in the successful campaign against Tippoo Sultaun, and upon the
coast of Malabar in 1790. In the following year he rose to tlie rank of lieu-
tenant and adjutant, and served in the campaigns of the Mysore, and tlie first
siege of Seringapatam. In 1795, he accompanied his regiment in the reduction
of the Dutch garrison of Cochin and its dependencies on the coast of J\lalabar ;
and in 179G he was employed in the successful enterprise that reduced the
island of Ceylon. After various changes connected with these leading events
in our Indian warfore, he served as major of brigade to the European brigade
of the Bombay army in 1709, and was present at the battle of Saduceer, and
the capture of Seringapatam. Having procured during this year, by purchase,
the rank of captain in the G7th regiment, he exchanged into the 88th, that he
might continue upon foreign service, as the last-mentioned corps had just arrived
in India; but he was disappointed in his purpose by ill healtl), which com-
pelled him, in 1801, to return home.

After having been employed in England cliiefly in the recruiting service, and
upon the staff of the southern district as major of brigade, he was subse-
quently appointed major in the Gth battalion of reserve, and was stationed in
Guernsey till 1805, when he joined the 71st regiment, with which he continued
in Scotland and Ireland until 1808: he then joined the 1st battalion on its em-
barkation for Portugal. Here Major Campbell saw service such as he had not
witnessed in India, having been present in the battles of Rolica and Vimeira,
as well as in the disastrous campaign in Spain under Sir John Moore, and the
battle of Corunna. In February, 1809, he was promoted to the rank of lieu-
tenant-colonel, and appointed to assist Marshal Beresford in organizing and
disciplining the Portuguese army. This was a service in which Colonel Camp-
bell was associated with some of the best officers of the British army, and the
value of their endeavours was well attested in the high state of efficiency to
which the Portuguese soldiers were brought, and tlio 'important aid they ren-
dered during the Peninsular war. In this auxiliary army Campbell rose to tfce
rank of full colonel, and in 1811 to that of brigadier-general, and was present at
the battles of Busaco, Albuera, Vittoria, the Pyrenees, the Nivelle, and the
Nive, and several sieges, especially that of Badajos. After having thus passed
through the brunt of the war in the peninsula and south of France, he was
appointed to the rank of major-general by the Prince Regent of Portugal in.
1813, and to the command of the Lisbon division of the Portuguese army in
181G. In this capacity he continued till 1820, when the revolution of Portugal
restored him to the service of his own country. lie had offered, as soon as the
insurrectionary movement commenced, and during the absence of Marshal
Beresford, to march with his division and quell the rising at Oporto; but in
consequence of the refusal of the regency, he gave in his resignation and re-
turned to England.

General Campbell, now a well-tried and war-worn veteran, might, like many
of his brethren of the Peninsular campaigns, have fought over his Indian and
European battles at a peaceful fireside at home, and "showed how fields were

SIR ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL. 15

won" to the rising generation whom their country was about to summon into
action. But the best and most important i^art of his military career was
still to come, and in India, where he had first learned the profession of arms.
Not long after his return to England, he joined the 30th regiment, of which he
was appointed colonel, at the Cape, and proceeded with it to India, vdiither it
had been ordered. On arriving in India, he was stationed at Berhampore, but
was soon appointed by Sir E. Paget to take the command of the expedition
fitted out against the Burmese. Of all the many nations of India, these people
were reckoned among the bravest and most formidable ; and their valour had
already been shown in several severe repulses which they had given to the
British troops, with whom they had but lately come in contact. The great
aim of the expedition which General Campbell commanded Avas to take posses-
sion of Rangoon, the chief seaport of Burmah ; and for this quarter he accord-
ingly set sail, and anchored within the bar off the town on the 10th of I\Ia3'^,
1823. The landing and capture of Rangoon were effected in twenty minutes
with scarcely any resistance. A defensive war of stockades on the part of the
Burmese followed, which they maintained with much spirit, and occasionally
v>'ith success, until the close of the year, when they were emboldened to abandon
their guerilla warfare, for which their country was highly favourable, for the
precarious chances of a battle. They accordingly assembled a large army of
between fifty and sixty thousand strong, with three hundred pieces of cannon,
and came down upon the British, who did not exceed six thousand. This was
wliat Campbell desired ; the enemy were now before him in a fair field, instead
of being intrenched behind stockades, or in the jungle, where they could not
be reached except at great disadvantage. He saw at once that their wings were
too far asunder, and he resolved to encounter them separately, and in quick
succession. His plan was effectual ; the enemy, thus attacked, were defeated in
detail, and so completely, that they fled in wild disorder, leaving behind them
their artillerj', and throwing away their muskets. On the following day this
crowd of fugitives was rallied, and incorporated with a new Burmese army that
advanced to the scene of action ; but Campbell attacked and defeated them in a
second encounter that was as successful as the first. In these two engagements,
the Burmese sustained a loss of more than five thousand men, while that of the
British was only thirty killed and two hundred and thirty wounded. Undis-
mayed, however, by such disasters, the enemy railed for a third attempt, and
this time were intrenched to the number of twenty thousand behind a strong
stockade. Here they were attacked by General Campbell, and routed with
such slaughter, that the war, for the time at least, Avas terminated by the sub-
mission of Burmah and the occupation of Rangoon. Few of our Indian cam-
'paigns were more glorious, if we take into account the obstacles which Campbell
had to overcome, the smallness of his force as compared with that of the enemy,
and the three decisive victories which he gained in such rapid succession. A
full sense of his merit was manifested both in India and at home, by the thanks
of the governor-general in council and the two houses of the British Parlia-
ment, while the Court of East India Directors voted him a gold medal and a
pension of £1000 per annum for life, as the reward of his important services.

At the close of the Burmese war, General Campbell was appointed com-
mander of the forces in the provinces on the coast of Tenasserim, which the
enemy had ceded, and civil commissioner in the companj^'s affairs in relation
to the kingdoms of Burmah and Siam. But the fatigues of the campaign had

7G EEV. JOHN CAMPBELL.

so perma-nently affected his health, that he was compelled to resign his com-
mand, and return to England in 1829. In the spring of 1831 he M'as appointed
lieutenant-go%'ernor of New Brunswick, and in this province he continued
nearly six years, and conducted the administration of its affairs not only to the
satisfaction of the home government, but that of the colonists. In 1889 he was
offered the appointment of commander-in-chief in Bomhaj^, -which he accepted,
such an office being, of all others, the most congenial to his wishes ; but almost
immediately after, a fresh attack of ill health obliged him to resign it. After
a few years of retirement from active life, which the increasing infirmities of
old age rendf^red necessary, he died at Edinburgh, on the 6th of October,
1843.

The value of Sir Archibald Campbell's military services, and especially these
in India, our late troubles with the Burmese, and the still unsettled condition
of that people, have taught us every year more highly to appreciate. It is
gratifying, however, to tliink that, while he lived, he did not find either his
country or the public ungrateful. Besides his merited rise in the service,
which went steadily onward, he was invested with the Portuguese order of the
Tower and Sword in 1813; knighted by the Prince Regent, and appointed
aide-de-camp to his Royal Highness in 1814 ; appointed a knight com-
mander of the Bath in 1815, and K. C. B, in 1827; and in 1831 created a
baronet of the United Kingdom. He was also at various times presented with
the freedom of the cities of Perth, Strabnne, and Cork. Sir Archibald Camp-
bell married J.Iiss Helen Macdonald of Garth, Perthshire, by whom he had two
sons and three daughters.

CAJ.IPBELL, Rev, John. — This active missionary- and enterprising traveller,
whose many labours procured for him a high estimation in the Cliristian world,
•was born at Edinburgh in 1760. He was the youngest of three sons, and had the
misfortune to lose his father when only two years old, and his mother four years
afterwards. Being placed under the guardianship of Mr. Bowers, his uncle, a pious
elder or deacon of the Relief Church, John was educated at the High School of
Edinburgh, then under the rectorship of Dr. Adams; but although his proficiency
as a scholar was such as enabled him to escape unnoticed, he never in after life
manifested any particular acquaintanceship with Latin and Greek. His restless
temperament and enterprising spirit were more inclined to action than study,
and might have led him headlong into evil, had they not been kept in check by
the wholesome restraints and religious education established in his uncle's house-
hold. On finishing his education at the High School, he was apprenticed to a
goldsmith and jeweller in Edinburgh. Although, at this early period, he was
deprived of the religious instructions he had hitherto enjo^'ed, in consequence of
the death of his uncle, the loss was in some measure supplied by diligent read-
ing and anxious reflection, combined with the intercourse of pious acquaintances,
whose benevolence was awakened by his orphan condition. One of these he
thus describes : — " Perhaps j'ou will bo surprised to hear that he was a ganger
(or excise officer), an employment as much despised in those days, in the north,
as that of the publicans or tax-gatherers by the Jews in the days of our Lord.
AVhen his piety became generally known in the town where he lived, he had
the honour of being distinguished by the appellation of ' the praying gauger.'
In reference to his being a man of pra^-er, perhaps you will be startled at a re-
mark I heard made by one of his most intimate and oldest acquaintances—
' that he believed Duncan Clark (for that was his name) had not for the last

KEV. JOHN Cx\MPBELL.

forty years slept two hours witliout engaging in prayer.' The conduct of this
remarkable man towards the j'oung inquirer, was in keeping with his charac-
ter. He was the first person," Campbell adds, " to whom I opened my case,
when I was greatly alarmed about the state of nn' soul before God. I wrote to
him a very simple letter, wlilch he first showed to some of his intimates, for
their opinion, and then wrote a cautious brief answer, which he did not send oif
by post, but actually brought himself, and delivered into my hands in Edin-
burgh. He explained his doing so by telling me that he had been at Dunferm-
line sacrament, to which place he carried it; and while there, he thought that,
being within fifteen miles of Edinburgh, he would just walk to it, and have a
little conversation, as well as deliver the letter. He had walked more than
twenty miles to the sacrament. He walked thus to save his money for the
poor," It was no wonder that, under the conversation of such men, the subject
of religion to the mind of Campbell appeared of paramount importance. It was
cfjually to be expected, from his natural disposition, that having attained sucli
views, he should be impatient to realize them by action. He became a visitor
of the sick and dying poor, to whom he imparted the consolations of religion,
as well as of the ignorant and the dissolute, whom he was anxious to enlighten
and convert. In this way he became a city missionary among the murky lanes
and closes of Edinburgh, at a time when such an office was most needed, and, as
yet, little thought of.

Mr, Campbell had now coranienced that evangelistic public life which was to
know neither rest nor interval ; and while engaged in the shop of a hardware
merchant, an occupation to which he had betaken himself, he was to become a
correspondent of the principal characters of the religious world, and be connected
with those great public enterprises in which they were the chief movers. But
to a life of such varied action, notwithstanding its heroic disinterestedness and
important results, we can only devote a very brief enumeration.

One of the earliest of these labours was the establishment of Sabbath-schools.
At a time when domestic religious instruction was prevalent in Scotland, their
introduction, instead of being a benefit, would have been a mischievous intru-
sion. But now that this patriarchal style of life was fi\st passing into a new
state, and that the present was a transition period, which is generally a period
fraught with danger, the old system of religious tuition was wofuUy in abeyance,
while nothing as yet had been brought forward to supplement the deficiency.
Sabbath-scliools, indeed, had even already been introduced into the country ;
but they were not only insignificant in point of number, but regarded as a
dangerous novelty — nay, even regarded as a libel upon our covenanting and
well-educated Scotland, whose religious character now stood so high among tlie^
nations of Christendom. And yet, all the while, there were thousands, nay,-
myriads of children for whom no one cared, and who were growing up in igno-
rance and profligacy, while every year was increasing the evil. Scotland, as is
too often the case, was contentedly reposing upon her past character and
achievements, and therefore blind to the present emergency. To this educa-
tional pliin, therefore, so ungracious, and yet so needful, John Campbell directed
his efforts. He opened a large Sabbath-school in the old x\rcher3' Hall ; and
finding it succeed, he opened another in the liall of the Edinburgh Dispensarj'.
Encouraged by the benefits that attended this bold experiment upon the capita),
and by the Countess of Leven, and several of our Scottish aristocracy, whose
religious patriotism v/as awake to tlie true interests of their countrj', he now

78 REV. JOHN CAMPBELL.

turned liis attention to the rural districts, and opened a school at the village of
Loanhead, a few miles distant from Edinburgh. Here he took his station ex-
clusively as teacher, and so effectually, that he soon had 200 pupils. His
zealous missionary labours in these and similar tmdertakings, introduced him
to the Haldanes, men of congenial spirit, who were eager to second his efforts ;
and accordingly, in company with Captain James Haldane, the younger brother,
he set off on a tour through the west of Scotland, partly for the distribution of
tracts, but mainly for the establishment of Sabbath-schools. With this view
they visited Glasgow, Paisley, and Greenock ; and although the trip occupied
only a single week, the formation of sixty schools was the result within three
months afterwards. A system of religious education was thus prosperously
commenced that was soon to overspread the country, and which, we trust, will
continue, until society, still better christianized than it is at present, will revert
to the good old plan of having the Sunday-school at home, with the head of the
house as its zealous affectionate teacher.

From Sabbath- school teaching to preaching was but a step, upon which Mi".
Campbell next ventured ; it was a change from growing to grown children, where
the latter were to the full as unintelligent as the former, but with still greater
need of the coercions of religion, while the kind of instruction which had been
found so available with the one might be equally so with the other. He com-
menced in the first instance with Gilmerton, a village in the neighbourhood of
Edinburgh, chiefly inhabited by colliers, the despised Pariahs of British society;
and having opened a preaching station for Sabbath evening service, he was aided!
in his labours by students of divinity and lay- preachers; and especially by Rate,
Aikman, and the Haldanes, the fathers of Scottish Independency. Encouraged
by the success of this trial upon Gilmerton, Messrs. Campbell, Rate, and James
Haldane resolved to attempt an itinerancy of lay-preaching over the whole of
Scotland north of Edinburgh, It was a novel experiment, for, except the brief
visits of Whitefield to Scotland, the practice of preaching in the open air had
been discontinued there since the happy accession of William and Mary to the
throne. In every town and village to which the^^ came, they announced their
purpose and the place of muster, and there the crowds who assembled were-
roused anew with proclamations of those evangelical doctrines to which very
few pulpits of the day were wont to give utterance. This, indeed, was a suffi-'
ciently humble mode of preaching ; but it was apostolic withal, and suited to
the wants of the times ; and one of the best fruits of this lay and out-of-door
preaching was, that in the present day it is needed no longer. After he had
toiled in the work until he broke down from sheer exhaustion, and resumed it
as soon as his health had recovered, Campbell saw with satisfaction this field
successfully occupied by the Haldanes, and those whom they had trained to an
itinerant ministry.

Hitherto it had been the reproach of Protestantism, that it was not a mis-
sionary church. The Reformed communities, instead of preaching the gospel
to all nations, had selfishly confined it to themselves; and while Papists were
alert in traversing every land, and braving every danger to make converts, they
were wont to allege, and with a show of justice, that the opposite church could
not be a genuine Christian one, as it had so shamefully neglected this most im-
portant commission with which it had been intrusted by our blessed Lord at his
departure. Nov,-, however, the reproach was to be rolled away ; and one of the
first fruits of this awakened sense of duty was the formation of the London

EEV. JOHN CA]\iPBKLi.. 79

Missionary Society, composed of Christians of all denominations, for a great
united aggression upon the heathenism of the world. It was the raising of a
banner, and soundingof a trumpet-blast, under which every Christian community
in Britain was electrified. Similar institutions in connection with the parent
branch began rapidly to be established in various cities ; and among these, one
of the first was in Edinburgh, of which Mr. Campbell was a director. In
this way, while, to use the language of one of his biographers, " soldiers and
sailors wrote to him for advice ; tlie need}' and greedy for money ; the reclaimed
outcasts for prayer and counsel ; dark villages for itinerants ; and chapel-builders
for help;" and all this while undei'going the weekly cares and toils of a trades-
man in the Bow, and those of a village lay-preacher at Gilmerton on the
Sabbath, he had the complicated concerns of a new missionary society super-
added to his manifold occupations. Zeal, activit}', sagacity, business-habits,
prudence, persuasiveness, were all in requisition for the discharge of so many
duties: and all these qualities he brought so fully to the task, as to show that
he was now in his congenial element. The condition of Africa employed his
attention with reference to the establishment of a mission at Sierra Leone ; but the
unhealthiness of the climate along the coast, and the "terrible unknown" of the
interior, equally seemed to bid defiance to the enterprise. In this trying dilemma,
an expedient suggested itself to his mind as sufficient to obviate every difficulty;
it wa?, to obtain from the British settlement there a number of native children
of both sexes, and after educating them in Britain, to send them back as mis-
sionaries to their kindred and countrymen. The next step was to procure
funds for such a costly but hopeful undertaking, and these were volunteered to
be supplied by Mr. Robert llaldane, who saw at once the soundness of the scheme.
Twentj^-four children were accordingly brought from Africa to London, and
nothing remained but to forward them to Edinburgh, to be trained under the
superintendence of those who had originated the plan. But here difficulties
arose at the outset with which Mr. Campbell had nothing to do, and the chil-
dren were educated in London. Still he had taught the way by which Africa
was to be opened up, and its hitherto inaccessible regions evangelized ; and every
succeeding year has justified the sagacity with which the expedient was devised,
by the happy results that have already crowned it. It is upon native missions,
perhaps, that we must ultimatelj' rely for the Christianization both of India and
Africa.

At an early period of life, Mr. Campbell's wishes had been directed to the
ministry, but as circumstances had been such as to prevent their realization, he
had hitherto acted in his private capacity, and as a laj^-preacher. Having been
so successful in the latter vocation, he now thought it his duty to devote himself
wholly to the ministerial work. He could now also accomplish this with greater
facility, as the Theological Hall which the Independents had lately established,
required a shorter course of study than that prescribed by the regular colleges.
This step also corresponded more fully with his views of church government,
which accorded with Independency. He therefore repaired to Glasgow, and
prosecuted his studies for the purpose under the Uev. Greville Ewing, who was
at the head of the £eminar3\ Here, also, he occasionally joined Mr. Haldane in
his itinerary preaching tours; and on one occasion, in 1802, he carried his
labours through a considerable part of England,'and officiated during part of the
summer, at Kingsland Chapel, London. For two years after, Mr. Campbell
itinerated through various parts of Scotland, and the northern counties of

so REV. JOHN CAMPBELL.

England, when, in 1804, he received a regular call from the congregation of
Kingsland Chapel, by Avliom his former labours had been greatly esteemed, to
become their minister. He complied, and entered immediately with full ardour
upon the sacred duties of his new ofiice. Although now minister of a London
chapel, the situation was by no means one either of distinction or emolument.
On the contrary, the congregation were so poor, and his salary therefore so
scantj^, that he was obliged to open a day school in Kingsland, in addition to
his clerical duties. He was also editor of the " Youth's Magazine," a small re-
ligious periodical, which he commenced and superintended through the first ten
volumes.

The remarkable activity of Mr, Campbell, and tlie energy with which ha
entered into the operations of the various religious societies with which he was
engaged, besides discharging the offices of minister, schoolmaster, editor, and
itinerant preacher, soon brought him into notice in London, and suggested to
the London IMissionary Society the idea of employing him in an enterprise of
the utmost importance. This was, a tour of exploration tlirough Caffraria, for
the purpose of examining the state of the Hottentot and Caffre missions, now
left helpless by the death of the lamented Dr. Vanderkemp. It was a commis-
sion fraught not only with difficulty but peril, but Campbell cheerfully under-
took it. He was solemnly set apart for this purpose in Miles' Lane Chapel, the
venerable Dr. Waugh presiding on that occasion. And who that has but onc3
seen and heard that Scot of Scots, can either forget his noble, stately, stal-
wart form and bearing, or his Doric but thrilling and persuasive eloquence ?
At the close of his address he thus bade farewell to Mr. Campbell: — " Could I
place the prophet Isaiah at the base of one of the lofty mountains in Africa,
which you, my brother, are about to visit; and if, whilst gazing on its varied
scenery, an eathquake were to rock it upon its deep foundations, until, like the
Numidian lion shaking the dew-drops of the land of Ham from his mane in the
morning, it threw off from its hoary and heaving sides the forests, and flocks,
and hamlets of huts, and clilFs crowned with lichens and lign aloes; and were a
whirlwind to rush in at that moment, scattering the broken and falling masses
iu mid air, as if pla3'ing with the sand-clouds and columns of the desert ; still
the voice of the prophet, could it be heard amidst the convulsive war of elements,
would exclaim, 'Though the everlasting mountains bow, and the perpetual hills
be scattered, yet will I rejoice in the Lord, and jo^^ iu the God of my salvation |'
Go, my brother, and do thou the same, whatever dangers you may meet in Africi.
As God was with Vanderkemp, so will he be with thee, Campbell."

Ch.arged with this important commission, the minister of Kingsland Chapel
left London on the 24th of June, 1812. Already he had confronted the fierce
waves that girdle the Orkneys, and traversed its little islands to proclaim the
gospel ; but now he was to " brave the stormy spirit of the Cape," and explore
its vast interior, upon a similar errand. His progress in South Africa fully jus-
tified the choice that had been made of him, for while no minister or missionary
could have been more zealous, active, and efficient in the special duties of his
calling among tlie Christian stations which he visited, he added to these the
qualifications of an intrepid, diligent, and enterprising traveller, alive to the
interests of general knowledge and science, and sharply observant of every object
in his way. Three thousand miles were traversed by him in a country as yet
but little known to the British public, and after an absence of nearly two years,
he returned to England in Ma}-, 1814. He was not yet done, however, with

THOMAS CAMPBELL. 81

South Africa, for in little more than four years, his services as a traveller, which
already had been so useful, weve again in requisition. A second journey over
the same country vras the consequence, which occupied two years and a-half,
and he returned to London in 1821, just in time for the missionary May meet-
ings, which he gratified by the rich fund of intelligence which he brought from
the land of his adventurous pilgrimage. Altogether, his published account of
these two journeys not only threw much light upon the interior of South Africa,
but brought into full view whole towns and tribes whose existence had as yet
been unknown in Europe. It was indeed a valuable addition to that portion of
the map which had hitherto been little more than a blank, or a few conjectural
lines. In consequence of these services, the London Missionary Society were
anxious that he should resume his pilgrim's staff, and make a similar explora-
tion of the stations they had established in the Polynesian Islands. But this
application he respectfully declined. After his second return from Africa,
in consequence of the death of his aunt, and marriage of his niece, who had
hitherto been his housekeepers, he took to himself a partner of his home, and
resumed his ministerial duties at Kingsland Chapel.

The rest of the life of Mr. Campbell, which was chiefly spent in London, was
marked by the same earnest diligence and usefulness which had hitherto charac-
terized it. Decidedly a man of action, his hours, his very minutes, were all
turned to good account, while his cheerful lively humour continued to animate
him to the last. His piety, his vigorous sound sense, his fluency as a speaker,
and his jokes, always made him a favourite upon a London religious platform ;
and as soon as his little compact figure, dark complexion, and cheerful look,
were presented to address them, the whole meeting brightened up with expecta-
tion, and hailed him with applauding welcome. Thus he continued unbent and
unbroken until he had passed the boundary of threescore and ten, when he was
attacked at the commencement of 1840 by his last illness. His end was one full
of peace and hope, and the only disquietude he seemed to experience was from
the thought, that in spite of all he had done, he had not done enough — he had
not done what he could, A few hours before he died, the missionary spirit that
had so essentially predominated during life was strongest within him, and in
broken accents of prayer he exclaimed unconsciously, '' Let it fly ! let the gospel
fly ! " His death occurred on the 4th of April, 1840.

CAMPBELL, Thomas. — This poet, so justly and poetically called the " Bard
of Hope," was born at Glasgow on the 27th of July, 1777. Like many of his
name, he could trace his descent through an illustrious ancestry, beginning with
Iver of Kirnan, the son of Archibald, Lord of Lochawe, who was the contem-
porary of Robert Bruce. To these genealogies, however, our poet was indiffer-
ent, being contented to be known as the son of Alexander Campbell, merchant,
Glasgow, and one of a family of eleven children. The poet was especially for-
tunate in the intellectual character of his parentage, his father being the inti-
mate friend of Reid, author of the " Inquiry into the Human Mind," while his
mother was distinguished by her love of general literature, combined with
sound understanding and a refined taste. Dull, indeed, would that mind natu-
rally be, that could be nursed up under such guardianship to nothing better
than mediocrity. Even at the early age of ten, Thomas Campbell had irre-
vocably become a poet, and such of his productions, composed at that season, as
have been preserved, exhibit the delicate appreciation of the graceful flow and
music of language for which his poetry was afterwards so highly distinguished.
\ L

82 THOMAS CAMPBELL.

He entered the college of Glasgow in 1791, already a ripe scholar in Latin and
Greek — an unwonted circumstance among the young students of our northern
universities ; and there he had the high privilege of studying under Richard-
son, the talented and elegant professor of Humanity, and Young, one of the most
enthusiastic Grecians and accomplished scholars of the day. The example of
the latter was not lost upon the congenial mind of his pupil ; and the poetical
translations which Thomas Campbell produced at this period, as class exercises,
from the " Medea of Euripides," as well as other Greek poets, showed not only
his mastery of the language in which they wrote, but the power he already pos-
sessed over his own. Many who are alive can still remember the pleasure W'ith
^Yhich Professor Young, in his college prelections, was wont to advert to these
translations, and tlie pupil by whom they had been produced. Even in original
poetry, also, Campbell was at this period distinguished above all his class-fel-
lows, so that, in 1793, his "Poem on Description" obtained the prize in the
Logic Class, although it was composed four years previous, and when he had
not passed the age of twelve. Besides being distinguished as a poet and scholar
at college, he was also well-known as a wit and satirist, and his lampoons were as
much dreaded as his lyrics were admired ; while his 7)iots were so plentiful, that
the usual morning question of the students was, " What has Tom Campbell
been saying ?" Being of a slim delicate make, and fond of a place near the
class-room fire before the professor had entered, but finding it generally sur-
rounded by a phalanx of Irish students, through which he could not break, ha
used often to disperse it, by causing their attention to be directed to some nev/
roguish effusion he had written on the wall, which was certain to send them all
scampering to the place of inscription. On one of these occasions, hearing that
he had just written a libel against their country, they rushed away from tho
blazing grate in fervent wrath to the pencilled spot on the wall, and read, not
in rage, but with roars of good-humoured laughter : —
" Vcs, Ilibcrni, collocatis,
Summum bonum in — -potatoes!"

The great choice of life, whether as to occupation or principles, is often cla-
termined by some incident so minute as to escape notice. And such was the
case with Thomas Campbell. In common with most youthful minds, before
their classical impressions have come in contact with the stern realities of every-
day life, his whole heart was with Greece and Rome, with Brutus and Cassius,
with liberty and the enemies of oppression. With him, as with others, all this
might have faded away like a dream of boyhood, but for an event that indelibly
stamped these feelings upon his mind, and made them become the regulating
principles of his after-life. It w^as now the season when the example of the
French revolution was at its height, so that even the grave and solid intellect
of Scotland became giddy for a moment in the whirl ; and the trials of Muir,
Palmer, Gerald, and others, showed how narrowly our country had escaped the
establishment of a convention modelled upon that of France. While these trials
were going on, the young poet felt an impatient longing to visit Edinburgh, and
witness the proceedings ; to which his affectionate mother assented. He was to
travel to the metropolis and return on foot, a journey of eighty-four miles ; and
to defray the expenses of such a pilgrimage, he thought himself richly furnished
by the sum of 5s., which she gave him for the purpose. He reached Edinburgh
with a light foot and buoyant heart, and repaired to the Parliament House,
where the trial of Gerald was going on ; and it was easy for an imagination

THOJIAS CAMPBELL. 83

Buch as his to convert tlie eloquent and impassioned culprit at the bar into a
patriot of tlie old heroic ages, pleading less for his own life than the liberties
of his country. " Gentlemen of the jury," said Gerald, at the close of his ap-
peal, " now that I have to take leave of you for ever, let me remind you that
mercy is no small part of the duty of jurymen; that the man who shuts his
heart on the claims of the unfortunate, on him the gates of mercy will be shut;
and for him the Saviour of the world shall have died in vain." Campbell was
deeply impressed by these thrilling words, and the universal unbreathing silence
of the multitude that listened ; and his emotion at last found vent in the ex-
clamation, "By heavens, sir, that is a great man!'' "Ay, sir," replied the
man beside him, apparently a decent tradesman, to whom the remark was ad-
dressed, "he is not only a great man himself, but he makes every other man
great who listens to him." Campbell returned to Glasgow, a sadder at least, if
not a wiser man, and, to the astonishment of his companions, his jokes and
flashes of merriment were now laid aside. He had imbibed those impressions
in behalf of freedom, and that hatred of oppression which burst forth so indig-
nantly in the "Pleasures of Hope" — that ran like an electric gleam through the
whole extent of his subsequent productions— and that finally, at his opened
grave, called forth the tears of unhappy Poland, represented by the Aveeping
group of her children who stood over it. He was now, and ever after, to be
the poet of Liberty.

When Campbell reached the age of twenty, he had completed five sessions at
the university of Glasgow, during the greater part of which period he had been
obliged, through the mercantile losses of his father, to contribute to his own
support by giving lessons in Latin and Greek as a private tutor. Long before
thisperiod he had endeavoui'ed to make choice of a profession, but had been unable
to settle upon any result: law, medicine, merchandise, the church, had succes-
sively presented themselves, and been each in turn abandoned. Even already,
however, the idea of literature as a profession had occurred to him; and he was
now in Edinburgh negotiating with the publishers of the day, and supporting
himself, in the meantime, by the drudgery of private tuition, until some path
could be struck out by his own talents, or some offer made to him by an Edin-
burgh bookseller. But even now, also, he was employed upon the " Pleasures
of Hope," and forming those beautiful episodes of the work wliich became all
the brighter and more attractive in consequence of the darkness by which their
author was beset. Such, at this period, was the condition of the young aspirant
for literary and poetical fame. If to this, the following sketch of him, by a
lady, be added, the picture will be complete : — " Mr. Campbell's appearance
bespoke instant favour ; his countenance was beautiful, and as the expression
of his face varied with his various feelings, it became quite a study for a painter
to catch the fleeting graces as they rapidly succeeded each other. The pensive
air which hung so gracefully over his youthful features gave a melancholy inte-
rest to his manner, which was extremely touching. But when he indulged ia
any lively sallies of humour, he was exceedingly amusing ; every now and then,
however, he seemed to check himself, as if the effort to be gay was too much
for his sadder thoughts, wliich evidently prevailed." " And now," he says of
liimself, " I lived in the Scottish metropolis by instructing pupils in Greek and
Latin. In this vocation I made a comfortable livelihood as long as I was in-
dustrious. But ' The Pleasures of Hope ' came over me. I took long walks
about Arthur's Seat, conning over my own (as I thought them) magnificent

84 THOMAS CAMPBELL.

lines; and as my ' Pleasures of Hope ' got on, my pupils fell off." At last the
work was finished and published, and the celebrity which it reached was suffi-
cient to compensate the author for all his past anxieties. In fact, it took the
public mind by storm ; and while commendation in all its forms was exhausted
in lauding it, the universal wonder was, that such a poem should have been
produced by a youth not more than twenty-one years old. Several of the most
distinguished of the Edinburgh literati had already been prepared to estimate
its merits from quotations which they had heard from the manuscript. But
with those who were not thus forewarned, the first sight of the work was irre-
sistible. Among these was the learned and accomplished Dr. Gregory, who, in
stepping into the shop of Mr. Mundell, the publisher, saw the volume, fresh
from the press, lying on the countei-. "Ah ! what have we here?" he said,
taking it up ; '" The Pleasures of Hope '.' " He looked between the uncut
leaves, and was so struck with tlie beauty of a single passage that he could
not desist until he had read half the work. "This is poetr}^" he enthusiasti-
cally exclaimed ; and added, " Where is the author to be found ? I will call
upon him immediately." The promise of the professor was quickly fulfilled,
and from that period he became one of Campbell's warmest friends and ad-
mirers.

Having thus established for himself a high reputation by his first attempt,
and being still in the opening of life, Thomas Campbell was impatient to see
the world, and resolved, for this purpose, to take a trip into some foreign
country. The proceeds of his work had furnished him with the means, and
therefore he had only to select the route of his pilgrimage. His choice settled
upon Germany, already become famous in Scotland by its rising literature, and
the works of Wieland, Schiller, and Goethe. He crossed over to Hamburn,
where his fame had already preceded him, so that he received an enthusiastic
welcome from the British residents of that mercantile city. He soon found,
however, that he had stumbled unexpectedly upon the outposts of a great and
momentous war, so that he was obliged to direct his course according to its
movements. But such was the rapidity of the French armies, that even an
unencumbered traveller could scarcely avoid them ; and on his arriving at
Ratisbon, war was raging round its suburbs, and, finally, the French within
its gates. Thus Campbell found himself in a situation that falls to the lot of
few poets; he was likely to be the witness, as well as the eulogist and recorder,
of great military achievements. " It was a sudden transition," he thus writes
to a friend, " from the beauties of an interesting journey to the horrors of war
and confusion that prevailed at Ratisbon. The richest fields of Europe desolated
by contending troops ; peasants driven from their homes, to starve and beg in
the streets ; horses dying of hunger and men dying of their wounds, were the
dreadful novelties at this time." From the ramparts close to the Scotch
monastery, he also witnessed the conflict that gave to the French the possession
of Ratisbon, and thus describes the spectacle in a letter to his brother: "Never
shall time efface from my memory the recollection of that hour of astonishment
and expended breath, when I stood, with the good monks of St. James, to
overlook a charge of Klenau's cavalry upon the French under Grenier. We
saw the fire given and returned, and heard distinctly the sound of the French
pas-de-cliarqe collecting the lines to attack in close column. After three hours,
awaiting the issue of a severe action, a park of artillery was opened just beneath
the walls of the monastery, and several drivers that were stationed there to

THOMAS CAMPBELL. 85

convey the wounded in spring-waggons were killed in our sight." In a subse-
quent account of the event, he adds : — " This formed the most important epoch
in my life, in point of impressions ; but those impressions at seeing numbers
of men strewn dead on the field, or, what was worse, seeing them in the act of
dying, are so horrible to my memory that I study to banish them. At times,
when I liave been fevered and ill, I have awoke from nightmare dreams about
these dreadful images."

Amidst these uncertainties produced by the war, the poefs rambles were brief
and irregular. lie returned to Hamburg, visiting Leipsic and a few other
towns in his course northward, and finally settled for the winter at Altona.
During his residence near the historic and picturesque banks of the Danube, he
had composed, or revised for the press, fourteen poetical productions, of which,
however, only four were ultimately published. His well-known delicacy, not
to say fastidiousness of taste, will sufficiently account for this reticence. Altona
was soon no safe residence, on account of Denmark's secret alliance with
France ; and the appearance of the British fleet off the Sound, gave sudden
warning to our traveller to provide for his safety. He therefore embarked in a
small trading vessel bound for Leith; but in consequence of a chace from a
Danish privateer, Campbell was landed at Yarmouth, to which the vessel fled
for shelter. A trip to London naturally followed ; and for the first time he
visited the mighty metropolis, little guessing, as he paced along its apparently
interminable streets, that he should afterwards see it expanded into twice its
present amount. After a short stay in the capital, where his *' Pleasures of
Hope " was a passport to the best of London society, he directed his course
homewaid. Even yet the inconveniences of his visit to the seat of war had
not ended. " Returning to Edinburgh by sea," he writes in his memoranda of
1801, " a lady, passenger by the same ship, who had read my poems, but was
personally unacquainted with me, told me, to my utter astonishment, that I had
been arrested in London for high treason, was confined to the Tower, and ex-
pected to be executed ! I was equally unconscious of having either deserved
or incurred such a sentence." He found, however, on reaching Edinburgh, that
this ridiculous report was no matter to be laughed at, for it was already
buzzed through the streets of the northern capital, and had reached the ears of
his anxious mother, who now resided in the cit}'. It was a wild period of ru-
mour and suspicion, and he found that the fact of his having messed with the
French officers at Ratisbon during the armistice, been introduced to the gal-
lant Moreau, and sailed as fellow-passenger with an Irishman of the name of
Donovan, had been amplified into a plot concerted between himself, Moreau,
and the Irish at Hamburg, to land a French army in Ireland. He waited
upon Mr. Clerk, the sheriff of Edinburgh, to refute this report, and testify his
loyalty at head-quarters ; but here he found, to his astonishment, that the
sheriff^ believed in his guilt, and that a warrant was issued for his apprehension.
This was intolerable, and Campbell could not help exclaiming, " Do I live to
hear a sensible man like you, talking about a boy like me conspiring against
the British empire?" lie offered himself for a strict examination previous to
being sent to prison, and the inquisition was held amidst an array of clerks
ready to note down his answers. A box of letters and papers which he had left
at Yarmouth to be forwarded to Edinburgh, but which had been seized at
Leith, was at the same time brought forward, opened, and carefully examined.
But the contents soon put all suspicion to the rout : nothing in the whole col-

S6 THOMAS CAMPBELL.

lection could be found more treasonable than " Ye Mariners of England," which
was already prepared for the press, with a few others of its ai'terwards dis-
tinguished brethren. " Tliis comes of trusting a Hamburg spy '." cried the
discomfited sheriff; for it seems that a rogue in Hamburg had been manufac-
turing for the credulity of his employers on this side of tlie water such treason
as he could not find ready-made, and had treasured up Campbell's movements
there as a fit groundwork for his ingenuity. The whole incjuest ended in a
hearty laugh and a bottle of wine.

On returning to Edinburgh, Campbell found that instant action was necessary.
His father had died during his absence in Germany; his widowed mother, now
old and frail, was in necessitous circumstances; and his three sisters were all
invalids under the maternal roof. It was also such a period of scarcity and
mercantile depression over the whole island, that the prices of the common ne-
cessaries of life were nearly doubled, so that famine-riots, popularly called meal-
mobs, became the order of the day among the lower classes. Urged by present
emergencies, he betook himself, in the first instance, to the precarious resources
of miscellaneous authorship, until something more permanent could be adoptedJ
This latter opportunity seemed to occur from an invitation he received from
Lord Minto to visit him in London ; and on Campbell's repairing thither in
1802, he was employed by his lordship as private secretary, and afterwards as
travelling companion to Scotland. During this temporary absence from Edin-
burgh, he had composed " Lochiel's Warning," and the " Battle of Hohenlin-
den." This, in the estimation of modern authorship, will appear to be very
slow progress ; but even in the most depressed period of his circumstances, his
aim was to write for immortality, so that every expression was carefully con-
sidered, aird every line touched and retouched, before it could satisfy that most
severe of all critics — himself. Even that striking line —

" Coming events cast their sliadows before,"
had cost him a whole week of study and anxiety. But who will say that the
price of such a stanza was too high ? Writing of the poet to a friend at this
time, Telford, the celebrated engineer, asks, " Have you seen his 'Lochiell' He
will surpass everything ancient or modern — your Pindars, your Drydens, and
your Grays." A similar feeling, but in a more poetical fashion, was expressed
of its merits by Mrs. Dugald Stewart, wife of the distinguished philosopher-
When the poet read it to her in manuscript, she listened in deep silence, and
when it was finished, she gravely rose, laid her hand upon his head, and said,
" This will bear another wreath of laurel yet," after which she retired to her
seat without uttering another word. " This," said Campbell, " made a stronger
in:ipression upon my mind than if she had spoken in a strain of the loftiest
panegyric. It Avas one of the principal incidents in my life that gave me con-
fidence in my own powers."

After having laboured for some time in fugitive articles for the newspapers,
and the compilation of history for the booksellers of Edinburgh, by which he
managed to secure a respectable temporary livelihood, Campbell once more re-
paired to London. A poet by choice, he was now a prose author from necessity,
and the Lritish metropolis he knew to be the best mart in which his literary
commodities could find a ready sale. Here, then, he was employed fagging, as
he informs us, for ten hours a-day, and purloining the opportunity for calls and
recreation from the hours of sleep. At this time, also, he published the seventh
edition of the " Pleasures of Hope," and several of his smaller pieces, in a quarto

THOMAS CAMPBELL. 87

volume, which brought him such a profitable return as to relieve him from all
his pecuniaiy embarrassments, as well as his anxieties about the future. This
happy deliverauce he forthwith proceeded to signalize in a fitting manner, by
selecting for himself a permanent home, and a partner to gladden it. He married
one who had been the object of his youthful admiration nine years before, and
had latterly become the ol)ject of his more matured afi^ections. This was Matilda
Sinclair, daughter of his mother's cousin, a gentleman who had formerly been
a wealthy merchant and provost in Greenock, and was now a trader in London.
The prudent father demurred at the thought of bestowing his daughter upon
one who, kinsman though he was, and now of high reputation, was still nothing
more than a poet. It was indeed a perilous venture ; but the ardour of the
young couple overpowered the old man's scruples, and wrung from him a reluc-
tant assent. They were married on the 10th September, 1S03. It was a poeti-
cal union, for Campbell's whole fortune at this time amounted to the sum of
fifty pounds; but he had fifty thousand pleasures of hope in perspective,
and was therefore rich in his own imagination. At length he became a father;
and here we cannot refrain from quoting his own account of feelings, so com-
mon to every father, at the arrival of his first-bom, but which Campbell, in a
letter announcing the event, has described with such beauty and tenderness :
" Our first interview was when he lay in his little crib, in the midst of white
muslin and dainty lace, prepared by Matilda's hands long before ',the stranger's
arrival. I verily believe, in spite of my partiality, that lovelier babe was never
smiled upon by the light of heaven. He was breathing sweetly in his first
sleep. I durst not waken him, but ventured to give him one kiss. He gave a

faint murmur, and opened his little azure lights Oh, that I

were sure he would live to the days when I could take him on m}»knee, and
feel the strong plumpness of childhood waxing into vigorous youth ! My poor
boy ! shall I have the ecstasy of teaching him thoughts, and knowledge, and i*e-
ciprocity of love to me ? It is bold to venture into futurity so far. At present,
his lovely little face is a comfort to me ; his lips breathe that fragrance which
it is one of the loveliest kindnesses of nature that she has given to infants— a
sweetness of smell more delightful than all the treasures of Arabia. What
adorable beauties of God and nature's bounty we live in without knowing !
How few have ever seemed to think an infant beautiful ! But to me there
seems to be a beauty in the earliest dawn of infancy, which is not inferior to
the attractions of childhood — especially when they sleep. Their looks excite a
more tender train of emotions. It is like the tremulous anxiety we feel for a
candle new lighted, which we dread going out." Such was an event, which,
though an important era in the life of every man, is especially so in that of a
poet ; and such is the description, which none but a poet, and that of the highest
order, could have so embodied. To our thinking, the above quotation may take
its place in the highest rank of Campbell's poetical productions. .

A happiness like this was not to be enjoyed without a due mixture of life's
cares and anxieties ; and at this period, tlie income of the poet for the support of
such a home and family', consisted of the proceeds of his daily literary toil,
which was so severe as seriously to injure his health, lie had not. indeed, that
slap-dash fiicillty of writing which characterizes most of those who follow lite-
rature as a profession ; nor could he, when the hours of study had been ended,
abandon the subject of his thoughts as lightly as the man of business can leave
his shop or counting-house, when he shuts it up for the evening, and repairs

88 THOMAS CAMPBELL.

to tlie enjoyments of his fireside. Instead of this, the fastidious taste that abode
with him through life, made him slow in the selection of ideas, as well as scru-
pulous in their expression ; and thus, when the price of his labour was to be
estimated by bulk, his toil was scarcely half-paid. One of his resources at this
time, in addition to periodical literature, was an engagement in the " Star " news-
paper, which produced him four guineas a- week. At this time, also, he was
willing to endure expatriation for the advantages of a permanent living ; so
that, when a regency in the university of Wilna had become vacant, he sent
his name to the Russian minister as a candidate. But here his sentiments in
favour of liberty, and his sympathy for Poland, which he had expressed in the
" Pleasures of Hope," intervened to damp the ardour of his application, which
might otherwise have been successful. After having established himself in
authorship as a profession, he removed from London to Sydenham, where he
resided for the next seventeen years of his life ; and it was here, during the
first summer after his removal, that amidst many articles written for the "Phi-
losophical Magazine" and the "Star," upon every uncongenial subject, agricul-
ture not excepted, he published " Lord UUin's Daughter," the " Soldier's
Dream," the " Turkish Lady," and the " Battle of the Baltic." But for one so
delicately organized both in mind and body as Campbell, the daily hard work
whicli he had to encounter was so exhausting that his health gave way ; and in
his letters at this period, we find him labouring under fits of gloomy despond-
ency, alternated by attacks of sickness. To add also to his cares, the sole sup-
port of his aged mother, and partially of his sisters, was still devolved upon him,
so that he had to maintain two household establishments, the one at Sydenham,
and the other at Edinburgh. But just at the time when it seemed inevitable
that he must break down under the double pressure, relief was at hand. Some
unknown but highly influential friend had interposed with royalty itself in his
behalf, and the result was a pension of £200 per annum conferred by his Ma-
jesty upon the Bard of Hope. His application of this munificent boon was
• truly honourable to the poet's heart and memory ; for, after reserving only a
portion to himself, he allotted the remainder to the support of his mother and
sisters.

Four years went onward at Sydenham under these improved circumstances,
but still the necessity for continued exertion was little abated ; for the pension,
comfortable as it looked in the abstract, underwent such mutilation, through
fees of office and taxation, that it reached him in the shape of £140, while out
of this he paid an annuity of £70 to his mother. The comfort to be derived
from it depended more upon its permanency than its specific bulk. He there-
fore continued his toil, amidst alternate fits of lassitude and sickness. His
contributions to the " Star," which consisted chiefly of translations from foreign
journals, occupied him four hours a-day, and the remainder of his time was
filled up by a " History of the Reign of George III." in three volumes, for
which he had contracted with an Edinburgh publisher before he left Scotland,
and with his " Specimens of the British Poets," a compilation in which the
selection of materials for extracts, as well as the composition of biographical
notices, cost him abundance of labour and anxiety. All this, however, was for
mere daily subsistence, not future fame ; and even to keep up the reputation
which his first work had procured him, it was necessary to follow it with one
of at least equal excellence. To this necessity he was far from being insensible;
and therefore, amidst his seasons of intermission, he had devoted himself with

THOMAS CAMPBELL. gg

all the ardour of a first and undiminished love to the production of " Gertrude
of Wyoming," which at length was published in London in 1809. It was
much that it should have fully sustained the fame that had been acquired by
ihe " Pleasures of Hope ;'" but it did more — it evinced equal poetical power,
with a more matured judgment and better taste. Jeffrey, that prince of critics,
who had seen the work while passing through the press, thus characterized its
excellencies : — " There is great beauty, and great tenderness and fancy in the
work, and I am sure it will be very popular. The latter part is exquisitely
pathetic, and the whole touched with those soft and skyish tints of purity and
truth, which fall like enchantment on all minds that can make anythin"- of
such matters. Many of your descriptions come nearer the tone of ' The Castio
of Indolence' than any succeeding poetry, and] the pathos is much more grace-
ful and delicate." After this commendation, which has been fully borne cut
by the admiration of the public for more than forty years, the talented critic
introduces the emphatic " cut,"' and proceeds to specify the faults which he
found in " Gertrude of Wyoming;"' and these, also, were such as the world has
continued to detect. It consisted too much of finished episodes rather than a
continuous poem. The language was still overlaboured, as if he had "ham-
mered the metal in some places till it had lost all its ductility." These were
faults, or blemishes, so inseparable from the mind of Campbell, that they were
part and parcel of liis intellectual existence, and he could only have abandoned
them by relinquishing his individual identity'. After this aflectionate chastise-
ment, Jeff'rej^ adds, " Believe me, my dear C, the world will never know how
truly you are a great and original poet, till you venture to cast before it some
of the rough pearls of your fancy. Write one or two things without thinking
of publication, or of what will be thought of them, and let me see them, at
least, if you will not venture them any further. I am more mistaken in
my prognostics than I ever was in my life, if they are not twice as tall as any
of your full-dressed children." In the same volume were published several
smaller poems, some of which had previously appeared before the public.
Among these were " Lochiel " and " Hohenlinden," the first characterized by
the "Edinburgh Review" as the most spirited and poetical denunciation of woe
since the days of Cassandra, and the second, as the only representation of a
modern battle which possesses either interest or sublimity; and "Ye Mariners
of England," and the " Battle of the Baltic," two songs that have justly ranked
their author as the naval Alcaeus of Britain. In a subsequent edition of " Ger-
trade," which appeared in the following year, the volume was enriched by tlio
addition of " O'Connor's Child," the best, perhaps, of all his minor poems. Its
origin was in the highest degree poetical. A little flower called " Love lies
bleeding," grew in his garden, and the sentiments which it inspired, as ho
looked at it in his morning walks, gathered and expanded into the most beau-
tiful of his ballads.

AVith a new task thus ended, relaxation was necessary; and with such an in-
crease to his poetical reputation, it was natural that the society of Campbell, on
re-entering the world, should be courted with renewed eagerness. Amidst the
many introductions to the most distinguished of the day, there were two that gave
him especial pleasure : the one was to Jlrs, Siddons, the " Queen of Tragedy ;"
the other, to Caroline, Queen of Great Britain. He was now also to appear in
Q new literary capacity. This was as a lecturer on poetry at the Royal Institu-
tion, a task for which, perhaps, no poet of this period, so prolific of distinguished

90 THOMAS CAMPBELL.

Lards, was so well qualified. He commenced this course on the 24th of Apri],
1812, and had the gratification not only of numbering among his audience some
of the most illustrious in the literary world, but of being crowned with their
approbation. There was, indeed, only one dissenting voice that made itself be
heard at the third lecture. " At the most interesting part," he sa^^s, " a storm
of thunder, lightning, and rain came on. The Avindow above me was open,
and the rain poured down on my paper as it did on Leander in the Hellespont.
The lightning had given me an electrical headache, and the thunder, aided b}^
the pattering rain, being my competitor in my endeavours to gain the public
attention, it required all my lungs to obtain a hearing." His lectures were so
popular in London, that he resolved to repeat them in Edinburgh, but this
purpose he could not at present find time to execute. The peace of 1814, that
threw Paris open to the world, enabled Campbell to accomplish' the design of
visiting that wonderful city, which he had entertained in 1802, but Avas pre-
vented from executing by the sudden renewal of war. He accordingly crossed
the channel, one of many thousands of visitors, and amidst all the marvels of
Paris, nothing seems to have delighted him so much as the Louvre. The
great master-pieces of ancient art seemed to burst upon him like the creations of
another world, and made him shed tears of mingled awe and delight. In
describing, immediately afterwards, the effect they produced on him, although
he tells us he was no judge in statuary, j-et we at once see he was more —
lie was a poet, feeling the inspiration of a kindred spirit manifested in a different
department of their common art. Of the Apollo Belvidere, he says, " Oh how
that immortal youth in all his splendour, majesty, divinity, flashed upon us
from the end of the gallery ! He seems as if he had just leapt from the sun."
His visits, which were made to the Louvre in company with Mrs. Siddons,
were of too transporting a character to be exclusively repeated, and therefore he
gladly had recourse to the theatres, concerts, and conversaziones, the promenades,
and public spectacles, with which the great metropolis of earth's pleasures is
pervaded as its living principle. " But still," he adds, " after the Louvre, I
know scarcely anything that is quite transcendant." After nearly two months
that were spent well and happily in Paris, Campbell returned fresh with new
sensations, that continued to animate him for years, and resumed his necessary
studies at Sydenham. In 1815, an event also happened to alleviate the neces-
sity of continual toil, and brighten the prospects of his future life. This was a
legacy bequeathed to him by his Highland cousin, M' Arthur Stevrart of Ascot,
which, though nominally not more than £500, was increased to nearly £5000,
through his share in the unappropriated residue bequeathed to the legatees by
the testator.

The practice of public lecturing had now become so congenial to the mind of
Campbell, and his course had been so popular, that he repeated it in Liverpool,
Birmingham, and Edinburgh, to numerous and delighted audiences. The
merits of these " Lectures on Poetry " are now familiar to the public, as they
were afterwards published, as well as his " Specimens of the British Poets," in
which the germs of his prelections were first displayed. In 1820 he was
enabled to revisit Germany with his family, and after a trip, in which the ro-
mantic scenery of the Rhine, and the distinguished literary societies of Germany,
were enjoyed with equal pleasure, he returned with fresh zest to England and
his literary engagements. The most important of these was the editorship of
the " New Monthly Magazine," which had been offered him on the most liberal

THOMAS CAMPBELL. 91

terms, and the duties of which he gladly undertook. It was a wholl}"- new
task, and therefore he was anxious to gather from his more experienced literary
friends such advice upon the subject as might direct him in his course. Some
of these admonitions could not have been very gratifying to a mind so sensitive
and enthusiastic as his. In a letter written to him by the Rev. Sydney Smith
upon the subject, that witty divine thus lectures him: "Remember that a
mag. is not supported by papers evincing wit and genius, but by the height of
the tide at London Bridge, by the price of oats, and by any sudden elevation
or depression in the price of boiling pease. If your mag. succeeds, it will do so
as much by the diligence and discretion you will impress upon your nature, as
by the talents with which you are born."' The " Magazine," however, acquired
a new impulse from his superintendence ; and among his own contributions, the
poem entitled " The Last ]\Ian," one of the happiest of his productions, was
universally applauded. While thus employed, " Theodric " appeared at the
end of 1824. The following year Campbell started the plan of the London
University, which he calls " the only important event in his life's little his-
tor}'," and pursued the object with a life-and-death earnestness; and, aided by
the practical minds of Brougham and Hume, the project, after much conflict,
was brought to a successful termination. So earnest, indeed , did he labour in the
whole affair, that, not contented with the experience he had already acquired of
German colleges as the model for that of London, he also travelled to Berlin, to
study whatever was excellent in the university of the Prussian capital, and
transplant it into London. And well did he evince his enthusiasm for the
improvement of our national education by undertaking such a journey, for,
although not more than forty-eight years of age, he was already a weakly old
man. His indeed had been a premature decay; all the more, perhaps, because
he had enjoyed a precocious intellectual manhood. But education rewarded
him in return with one of the highest distinctions, and the most grateful to the
mind of Campbell, which she had to bestow. In his own alma mater, the uni-
versity of Glasgow, a canvass had for some time been going on to elect him to
the honoured office of Lord Rector; and in the winter of 1826, the students, by
whom the election, is made, had been so unanimous in their choice, that he was
appointed to the office by unanimous vote of the " four nations." Nor did the
honour conferred upon him stop here ; for, in the following year, and also the one
after, his appointment was renewed by the suffrages of the students. lie was thus
three times successively Lord Rector of the university of Glasgow, a repetition
unusual among the holders of that high academic office. But, amidst all this
distinction, the mind of the poet had much to grieve and try him. Of his two
sons, the younger had died in childhood, while the elder, his first-born, who
had opened such a fountain of tenderness within his heart, had for years
been in a state of lunacy, and was obliged to be kept in confinement. He was
thus even worse than childless. In 1G2G, also, his affectionate wife, Matilda, in
whom he had found so congenial a partner, died, and he found himself alone in
the world. The " New Monthly Magazine," too, that had prospered so greatly
under his care, and been a comfortable source of emolument, passed from
under his management by one of those unlucky accidents to which periodical
literature is especially exposed. A paper was inserted by mistake in its pages,
without having been subjected to his editorial examination, and as the article
in question was offensive in the highest degree, Campbell in 1830 abandoned
the Magazine, and a salary of £G00 per annum which he derived from it. Soon

after this, an event of a public and political nature moved him still more liiglily
than any pecuniary loss could have done. This was the sanguinary capture
of Warsaw in 1831, and the national miseries with which Poland was after-
wards visited. lie had embraced the cause of that most injured and most
afflicted of the nations with a poet's enthusiasm ; and now he predicted the
final result of its wrongs with a poet's prophetic prescience. His words upon
the subject are well worth considering — for are they not, even at the present
day, after a lapse of twenty-one j'ears, undergoing their fulfilment? "All is
over now ; and a brave nation is thrust a second time, assassinated, into her
grave. Mysterious are the ways of heaven ! We must not question its justice
— but I am sick, and fevered with indignation at Germany, for suffering this
foolish Emperor of Austria ; he fears letting his people taste a little freedom,
more than resigning his own freedom to Russia, for he will soon be the very
vassal of the inhuman Sclaves, which will be worse for him than if he had a
free parliament under his nose — and so also will the King of Prussia be hence-
forth ! All continental Europe, I distinctly anticipate, will be enslaved by
Russia. France and Austria will worry each other till they are exhausted;
and then down will Russia come on all the south of Europe, with millions and
millions, and give law and the knout both to Germany and France." After
such vaticinations, who can fail to recognize the truth of the following lines
of Cowper : —

" So -when remote futurity is brought

Eeforc tlie keen inquiry of her tliought,

A terrible sagacity informs

The poet's heart ; ho looks to distant storms ;

lie hears the thunder ere the tempest lowers ;

And, arm'd with strength surpassing human powers,

Seizes events as yet unknown to man,

And darts his soul into the dawning plan."

It is gratifying to add that when Campbell's heart was thus occupied, he did
not, like too many, withdraw from the throng, that he might brood in solitude
over the luxury of sensibility. Instead of this, he spoke, wrote, declaimed
upon the miseries of Poland, pictured them in poetry and in prose, appealed
against them in companies of every political shade of belief, exerted himself to
make all feel that instead of being a mere party question, it was the common
cause of justice, honour, and humanity ; and, to evince his sincerity, bestowed
liberally, not only of his time and laboui', but also of his money, in behalf of the
Polish sufferers, at a season when money was the commodity which he least
could spare. And his labours were not in vain. He awoke a deep sympathy
in behalf of Poland wherever his influence extended, and succeeded in associat-
ing the Polish committee in London, which for years has been so successful in
relieving thousands of the expatriated.

While emploj'ed in these avocations, the literary duties of Campbell still
continued to be of a varied character. After his editorship of the " New
Monthly ]\Iagazine" had ceased, he was employed in the same capacity in the
"Metropolitan;" and subsequently his attentions were occupied with letters
and pamphlets in support of the London University, and upon the subject of
education in general ; with reviews on works of classical history and fiction ;
and with a wide and laborious correspondence in French, German, and Latin,
which employed him four hours every morning. To these, also, was added his
"Life of Mrs. Siddons," a work to which he devoted himself with all his

THOMAS CAMPBELL.

'chavactcristic enthusiasm, and finished in 1833. Thus, even when iiis name
was least before tiie public, he was toiling generally in behalf of some great
benevolent ol)ject with an earnestness under wliich liis health frequently sank,
and by which his final decay was raj^idly accelerated. Still, however, lie was
earnest to produce one poem more — a final work, by which the poetical reputa-
tion he had hitherto acquired should be confirmed, and, if possible, extended —
and as health was necessary for this purpose, he resolved to make the classical
tour of Ital}^ by which mind and body should be braced alike for the contem-
plated enterprise. He therefore passed over to Paris in 1834; and although the
Apollo Belvidere and Venus de Medicis were no longer there, he found the
same cheerful society, and more than the same cordial welcome that had glad-
dened his visit of 1814. After having remained several weeks in the French
capital, lie resumed his journey, but with a very different destination ; for,
instead of Rome, he now embarked for Algiers Ilis friends at home were as
much astonished at the tidings as if he had set off on a pilgrimage to Timbuc-
too. But he had been poring in the king's library at Paris over books and
maps of ancient geography, where the Roman city of Icosium, that had occupied
the site of Algiers, met his eye; and the late changes by which this Mauritanian
city of the waters had been converted into the capital of a French province,
fired his imagination with pictures of the future civilization of Africa. This
was enough to decide him on embarking at Toulon, on the 11th September,
1034, and in seven daj's after he was traversing the crooked streets of Algiers,
beneath the blaze of an African sun. But he was still among French society,
to whom his literary reputation was a welcome passport ; he even found one of
tlie French officers there employed in a translation of his poems with a view to
publication. New health, na}-, a new life itself, was the reward of this journey
and he describes the scenery and his own feelings in the following buoyant
style : " Oh, my old crony ! it would do your heart good to see your friend
prancing gloriously on an Arabian barb over the hills of the Avhite city (for
Algiers, with all its forts, battlements, mosques, and minarets, is as dazzling
white as snow), and enjoying the splendid scenery. I have no words to convey
the impression it has made on me. I felt, on my ride, as if I had dropt into a
new planet ! Some parts of the hills, it is true, are bare ; but wherever there is
verdure, it has a bold, gigantic richness, a brilliancy and odour, that mock even
the productions of our hot-houses. Never shall I forget my first ride I It was
early morning: the blue Mediterranean spread a hundred miles beneath — a line
of flamingoes shot over the wave — the white city blazed in the rising sun — the
Arabs, with their dromedaries loaded with fruits for the market, were coming
down the steeps. Around, in countless numbers, were the white, square, castle-
looking country-houses of the Moors, inclosed in gardens ; the romantic tombs
of the Marabouts, held sacred, and surrounded with trees and flowers, that are
watered with a perpetual spring from marble fountains, where you see the palm

towering with its feathery tufts as high as a minaret Then the

ravines that run down to the sea ! I alighted to explore one of them, and found
a burn that might have gurgled in a Scottish glen. A thousand sweet novel-
ties of wild flowers grew above its borders ; and a dear little bird sang among
its trees. The view terminated in the discharge of the stream among the rocks
and foam of the sea, —

' And where this valley winded out below, ■
The murmuring main was heard — and scarcely heard to uow.'

94 THOMAS CAMPBELL.

In short, my dear John, I feel as if my soul had grown an inch taller since I
came here. I have a thousand, and a thousand curious things to tell you ; but
I shall keep them all bottled up to tell you in Fludyer Street — unless the cholera
comes over me. If it should, I have at least had some happy days; and tho
little void that I leave in the world will be soon filled up."

These "happy days" were extended over the two following months, during
which the poet made short trips among the native tribes, and explored whatever
■was curious in the past and present history of these children of the desert, and
the localities the}'- occupied. And fortunately for him, the dreaded cholera did
not come, so that he revelled uninterrupted amidst the healthy and spirit-stir-
ring enjoyments of the new scenes into which he had entered. The consequence
was, that on his return to London, his friends congratulated him on being several
years 3^ounger than when he had set out on his travels. This healthy effect of
a glowing IMoorish atmosphere, was afterwards improved and made permanent
by a trip to his native north, that followed soon after— an alternation that re-
sembled the sudden plunge from a hot bath into a cold. But where was the
poem which was to be produced on his return ? Let no poet say to himself, " Go
to, I will sit down on such and such a day and write an epic." History and
antiquit}', past events and living realities, the rich landscapes around Algiers
and Oran, and their stirring throng of Moors and Frenchmen, had so wholly
occupied his thoughts, that la3dng aside his poetical purposes to an indefinite
period, he devoted himself to the preparation of " Letters from Algiers," which
were afterwards published in two volumes. His financial affairs, too, notwith-
standing his habitual disregard of monej', and thoughtless facility in parting
with it, were in a more prosperous condition than the}^ had been at any former
period. Such was the tranquil course of his life from 1035 to 1841, when a
return of his former ailments so stirred his impatience, that without any previ-
ous notice or preparation, he suddenly started for Weisbaden, expecting to find
a miraculous recovery among its Brunnen. Such, indeed, was his hurr^^, that he
forgot to provide himself with money, so that on arriving at the baths, he was
obliged to write to a friend in London, commissioning him to enter his house in
Victoria Square, take out all the money he found there, and after remitting him
a portion, to lodge the rest at his banker's. It was truly marvellous that such
a man should ever have had money to leave behind him! Fortified with this
authority, his friend, accompanied by a lawyer, went to Campbell's house,
opened the press-door in his bedroom, which did not seem to be even locked,
and commenced his exploration. But though every shelf, drawer, cranny, every
shirt-fold and coat-pocket of this poetical chaos was searched and rummaged, there
was nowhere a token of mone^^ The law^^er was grievously scandalized, and
talked professionally of careless custody, and burglary. At length, when closing
the press-door in despair, the process was interrupted by the point of a red
embroidered slipper, stuffed, as it appeared, with paper matches for lighting
candles, and on unrolling these, they found that the apparently worthless
papers consisted of bank-notes to the amount of more than £300 ! By an
inconsistency not unusual in human nature, Campbell at this very period wasj
grumbling at the rate of exchange in "Weisbaden, where not more than lOs. 6d.
was given for an Englisli sovereign. His stay Avas only for six weeks, and
during this period he composed the ballad of the " Child and Hind." He pub-
lished also " The Pilgrim of Glencoe, with other poems, " in which the " Child
and Hind," the " Song of the Colonists," and " Moonlight," appeared for the

ALEXANDER CHALMERS.

first time. Uiifortunatel}'', however, the *' Pilgrim," notwithstanding its ex-
cellencies, was felt to be inferior to his first productions, and was rated accord-
ingly. But he was no longer the same youthful spirit that had produced the
"Pleasures of Hope" and "Gertrude of Wyoming." Flashes, indeed, of his
former self would still break out from his poetry and conversation, but they
were the fitful irradiations of a once steady but now departing sunshine. He
had now reached the age of sixty-six, and perhaps he had drawn too fervently
and fast upon the resources of a naturally delicate constitution, to be otherwise
than a feeble broken-down man at such a period of life. To add also to his dis-
tresses, the sale of his poems, which for some years had produced him about
£500 per annum, could not now realize above £00 or £70. From the double
motive of health and econoni}^, he resolved to make his future residence in
Boulogne, to which he repaired in July, 1843. His friends — and few had more
attached friends than Campbell — felt as if this w-as a final departure, to be fol-
lowed by no happy return.

These mournful forebodings were too truly verified. His constitution was
already so old, and so completely exhausted, that no change of climate could en-
able it to rally ; and the winter of Boulogne, instead of alleviating his ailments,
only seemed to aggravate them beyond the power of removal. Spring came?
and summer succeeded ; but their bright sunshine only half lighted the curtained
sick-room, and finally flickered upon the death-bed of him who had so often
watched its changes, and delighted in its beauty. But in his last hours he was
not alone, for besides his affectionate niece, who attended him with a daughter's
solicitude, his bed-side was solaced by the presence of Dr. Beattie, his faithful
friend, physician, and biographer, who had crossed from London to Boulogne,
to soothe the departing hours of his aff'ectionate patient. Amidst such gentle
guardianship, by which every aid and alleviation was administered, Thomas
Campbell died without a struggle, and apparently without pain, solaced to the
last moment by the consoling portions of Scripture that were read to him, in
which he expressed his earnest faith and hope ; and by the prayers in which he
joined in look and attitude when the power of speech had departed. His death
occurred on the 15th of June, 1844, in the sixty-seventh year of his age. The
body was removed from Boulogne to London, and interred in Westminster
Abbey; a handful of earth from the tomb of Kosciusko, the Polish hero, that
had been treasured for the purpose, was thrown into the grave of the poet who
had written so eloquently and laboured so much in behalf of Poland ; and his
ashes now repose in the neighbourhood of the monuments erected to Addison,
Goldsmith, and Sheridan.

CHALMERS, Alexander, M.A., F.S.A.-— The life of this laborious literary
workman is more remarkable for untiring industry, and its immense amount
of produce, than for greatness or originality of genius. He was born at Aber-
deen, on the 29th of March, 1759, and was the youngest son of James Chalmers
printer in Aberdeen, an accomplished scholar, who established the first news-
paper that existed in that town. Alexander, after completing a classical educa«
tion, continued his studies for the medical profession ; and, on finallj' being
appointed to practice as surgeon in the West Indies, he left Aberdeen in 1777,
to join the ship which was to carry him to his destination. But on reaching
Portsmouth, instead of stepping on board, he suddenly flew off to London. He
had either lost heart at the thought of a residence in the West Indies, at that
time one of the v/orst of exiles, or had suddenly become enamoured with the

yo

ALEXANDER CIIALMEIi:?.

charms of a literary life in the metropolis. At all events, thither he went, and
although his line of existence was stretched out nearly sixty years beyond this
period, his native city saw him no more.

On entering London, Mr. Chalmers commenced as a contributor to the peri-
odical presSj and became editor of the "Public Ledger and London Packet."
It was a stirring and prolific period for journalists, in consequence of the Ameri-
can war, and so ably did he exert himself, that he soon became noted as a
vigorous political writer. Besides his own, he exercised his talents in other
established journals of the day, the chief of which was the " St. James's Chroni-
cle," where he wrote many essays, most of them under the signature of Senex.
He was also a valuable assistant for some years to his fellow-townsman, Mr.
James Perry, editor and proprietor of the " Morning Chi-onicle," who had come
to London at the same time as himself, and to whose newspaper Chalmers con-
tributed racy paragraphs, epigrams, and satirical poems. He was likewise a
contributor to the "Analytical Review," published by Mr. Jolinson, and to
the "Critical Review." As the last-named magazine was published by Mr.
George Robinson of Paternoster Row, a close connection was establislied
between Mr. Chalmers and that eminent publisher, which continued till the
death of the latter, and was of important service to both parties. Chaluiers,
who lived almost wholly with his friend, assisted him in the examination o\'
manuscripts offered for publication, and also revised, and occasionally alteied
and improved, those that were passed through the press. With most, indeed,
of the principal publishers and printers in London during fifty years Chalmers
maintained a friendly intercourse, and of many of them he has left interesting
l)iographies in the Obituary of the " Gentleman's Magazine," a favourite perio-
dical to which he fref[uently contributed. These literary exertions, however,
numerous though they were, and extended over a long course of years, were as
nothing compared with his permanent labours as editor of many of the most
important works of British authorship ; and it is by these, of which we can
only give a very brief notice, that his merits are chiefly to be estimated.

In 1703 he published a continuation of the " History of England in Letters."
two volumes. This work was so well appreciated, that four editions successive'y
appeared, the last being in 1821.

In 1797 he compiled a "Glossary to Shakspere" — a task peculiarly agreeable
to a Scotsman, who finds in the copious admixture of unpolluted Saxon exist-
ing in his own native dialect, a key to much that is now obsolete in the English
of the Elizabethan period.

In 1708 he published a "Sketch of the Isle of Wight;" and in the same
year an edition of '• The Rev. James Barclay's Complete and Universal English
Dictionary."

In 1803 he published a complete edition of the "British Essayists," begin-
ning with the " Tatler," and ending with the "Observer," in forty-five volumes.
The papers of this long series lie carefully compared with the originals,
and enriched the work with biographical and historical prefaces, and a general
index.

During the same year, he produced a new edition of Shakspere, in nine
volumes, with a life of the author, and abridgment of the notes of Stevens,
accompanied with illustrations from the pencil of Fuseli.

In 180.5 he wrote lives of Robert Burns, and Dr. Beattie, author of the "Min-
strel," whicli were prefixed to their respective works.

In 1806 he edited Fielding's works, in ten volumes octavo; Dr. Johnson's
works, in twelve volumes octavo; Warton's essays, the "Tatler," "Spectator,"
and "Guardian," in fourteen volumes octavo; and assisted the Rev. W. L.
Bowles in his edition of the Avorks of Alexander Pope.

In 1807 he edited " Gibbon's Decline and Fall," in twelve volumes octavo,
to which he prefixed a Life of the Author.

In 1808, and part of the following year, he selected and edited, in forty. five
volumes, the popular work known as " Walker's Classics,"

In 1809 he edited Bolingbroke's works, in eight volumes octavo. During
this year, and the intervals of several that followed, he contributed many of the
lives contained in that splendid work, the "British Gallery of Contemporary
Portraits."

In 1810 he revised an enlarged edition of " The Works of the English Poets
from Chaucer to Cowper," and prefixed to it several biographical notices
omitted in the first collection. During the same year, he published "A His-
tory of the Colleges, Halls, and Public Buildings attached to t-he University
of Oxford." This work he intended to continue, but did not complete it.

In 1811 he revised Bishop Ilurd's edition of Addison's works, in six
volumes octavo , and an edition of Pope's works, in eight volumes octavo.
During the same year he published, with many alterations, "The Projector,"
in three volumes octavo, a collection of original articles which he had contri-
buted to the " Gentleman's Magazine," from the year 1802 to 1809.

In 1812 he prefixed a "Life of Alexander Cruden '" to a new edition of
" Cruden's Concordance."

During the last-mentioned year, also, Chalmers commenced the largest and
most voluminous of all his literary labours, and the work upon which his repu-
tation chiefly rests. This was "The General Biographical Dictionary, con-
taining an Historical and Critical Account of the Lives and Writings of the
most Eminent Men in every Nation, particularly the British and Irish ; from
the Earliest Accounts to the Present Times." The original work, published
in 1798, had consisted of fifteen volumes. Large though it was, Chalmers
found it incomplete, and resolved to expand it into a full and perfect work.
He therefore commenced this gigantic labour in Ma}', 1812, and continued to
publish a volume every alternate month for four years and ten months, until
thirty-two volumes were successively laid before the public. The amount of
toil undergone during this period may be surmised from the fact, that of the
nine thousand and odd articles which the Dictionary contains, 3934 were en-
tirely his own production, 217G were re-written by him, and the rest revised and
corrected.

After these toils, it might have been supposed that the veteran editor and autlior
would have left the field to younger men. He had now reached the age of fift\'-
seven, and had crowded that period with an amount of literary exertion such as
might well indicatethefuUoccupationof every day,and every hourof theday. But
no sooner was the last volume of the Biographical Dictionary ended, than he was
again at work, as if he had entered freshly into action ; and from 181 G to 1823 a
series of publications was issued from the press that had passed under his editorial
pen, chiefly consisting of biographies. But at last the "pitcher was broken at
the fountain, and the wheel broken at the cistern." During the latter years of
his life, he had been employed by the booksellers to revise and enlarge his
"Biographical Dictionary,' and upon this he had continued to employ himself

V. N

TvEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

until about a third of the work was finished, when the breaking up of his con-
stitution obliged him to lay aside his well-worn pen. His last years were years
of suffering, arising chiefly from diseases incident to such a sedentary life, until
he sank under an attack of bronchial inflammation. His death occurred in
Tlirogmorton Street, London, on the 10th of December, 1834, in his seventy-
sixth 3'ear. His wife had died eighteen years previous, and his remains were
interred in the same vault with hers, in the church of St. Bartholomew, near
the Eoyal Exchange.

In the foregoing summary we have omitted the mention of not a few of
Chalmers' less essential literary performances, conceiving the list to be already
long enough to give an idea of his character and well-spent life. We can only
add, that his character was such as to endear him to the literary society with
whom he largely mingled, and by whom his acquaintance was eagerly sought.
He was what Dr. Johnson would have termed " a good clubbable man," and
was a member of many learned societies during half a century, as well as the
afi'ectionate biographer of many of his companions who had been wont to
assemble there. He was charitable almost to a fault — a rare excess with those
in whom a continued life of toil is too often accompanied with an undue love of
money, and unwillingness to part with it. lie was also in his private life an
illustration of that Christian faith and those Christian virtues which his literary
exertions had never failed to recommend.

CH ALGIERS, Rev. Tuomas, D D. — This eminent orator, philosopher, and
divine, by whom the highest interests of his country during the present century
have been so materially influenced, was born in the once important, but now un-
noticed town of Anstruther, on the south-east coast of Fife, on the 17th March, 1 780.
He was the son of ?.Ir. John Chalmers, a prosperous dyer, ship-owner, and general
merchant in Easter- Anstruther, and Elizabeth Hall, the daughter of a wine-mer-
chant of Crail, who, in the course of twenty-two years, were the parents of nine
sons and five daughters, of which numerous family, Thomas, the subject of this
memoir, was the sixth. After enduring the tyranny of a severe nurse, he passed
in his third year into tlie hands of an equally severe schoolmaster, a worn-out
parish teacher, whose only remaining capacity for the instruction of the young
consisted in an incessant application of the rod. Thus early was Thomas Chalmers
taught the evils of injustice and oppression; but who can tell the number of
young minds that may have been crushed under a process by which his was
only invigorated ! After having learned to read, and acquired as much Latin
as he could glean under such unpromising tuition, he was sent, at the age of
twelve, to the United College of St. Andrews. Even long before this period
he had studied with keen relish " Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress," and resolved
to be a minister. It appears that, like too many youths at their entrance
into our Scottish universities, he had scarcely any classical learning, and was
unable to write even his own language according to the rules of orthography and
grammar. All these obstacles, however, only called forth that indomitable per-
severance by which his whole career in life was distinguished; and in his third
year's course at college, when he had reached the age of fifteen, he devoted him-
self with such ardour to the study of mathematics, that he soon became dis-
tinguished by his proficiency in the science, even among such class-fellows as
Leslie, Ivory, and Duncan. These abstract studies required some relief, and
in the case of Clialmers, they were alternated with ethics, politics, and political
economy. After the usual curriculum of four years he enrolled as a student of

REV. TIIOiMAS CHALMERS, D.T). DO

theology, but with a heart so devoted to the abstractions of geometr}^ that
divinity occupied little of his thoughts ; even when it was afterwards admitted,
it was more in the form of sentimental musings, than of patient laborious in-
quiry for the purposes of public instruction. But he had so successfully studied
the principles of composition, and acquired such a mastery of language, that
even at the age of sixteen, many of his college productions exhibited that rich and
glowing eloquence which was to form his distinguished characteristic in after
years. He had also acquired that occasional dreaminess of look and absence of
manner which so often characterizes deep thinkers, and especially mathemati-
cians ; and of this he gave a curious illustralion, when he had finished his
seventh year at college, and was about to enter a family as private tutor. His
father's household had repaired to the door, to bid him farewell ; and after this
was ended, Thomas mounted, the horse that was to carry him to the Dundee
ferry. But in accomplishing this feat, he put his right foot (the wrong one on
this occasion) into the stirrup, and was in the saddle in a trice, with his face
to the horse's tail ! When ready to apply for license as a preacher, an obstacle
was in his way ; for as yet he had not completed his nineteenth year, while tlio
rules of the Church required that no student should be licensed before he had
reached the age of twenty-one. This difficulty, however, vras overruled by an
exceptional clause in favour of those possessing. "rare and singular qualities; "
and it having been represented by the member of presbytery who discovered
this qualifioation in the old statute, that Thomas Chalmers was a "lad o' preg-
nant pairts," the young applicant, after the usual trials, was licensed as a preacher
of the gospel, on the 31st of Jul3^, 1799.

On entering the sacred office, Chalmers was in no haste to preach ; on the
contrary, he refused the numerous demands that were made upon his clerical
services, took up his abode in Edinbui'gh during the winter of 1799-1800, for
the purpose of prosecuting his mathematical studies under Professor Play fair,
and deprecated the idea of even a church presentation itself, lest it should prove
an interruption to the progress of his beloved pursuits. The following winter
ho also spent in Edinburgh, almost exclusively occupied in the study of chemis-
try. As there was a prospect of the parish of Kilmany soon becoming vacant,
which was in the gift of the United College of St. Andrews, and to which his
nomination by the professors was certain, Chalmers might now have awaited
in tranquillity that happy destination for life to which his studies hitherto had
been ostensibly devoted. But science and scientific distinction were still the
great objects of his ambition, and the mathematical assistantship of St. Andrews
having become vacant, he presented himself as a candidate for the charge, in the
hope that such an appointment would ultimately lead to the professorship, with-
out obliging him to forego the ministerial charge of Kilman^^ — for St. Andrews
was the head-quarters of ecclesiastical pluralities. In both objects he was suc-
cessful; and having lectured and taught mathematics at college in the winter
of IG02-S, on 12th May, 1803, he was inducted into his expected parish.
The ardour with which he threw himself into his college prelections, and the
unwonted eloquence with which he imbued a science so usually delivered in the
form of dry detail and demonstration, constituted a novelty that astonishedj
while it delighted his pupils, and their earnest application and rapid proficiency
fully corresponded with the efforts of their youthful teacher. At the close of
the session, however, a bitter disappointment awaited him ; he v>'as told by his
employer that his services as assistant teaclier were no longer required, while

ji r» ^'"i

1/^

inefficiency for the office- was stated as the cause of his dismissal. This cliarge
was not only most unjust in itself, but would have operated most injuriously
against Mr. Chalmers, by closing the entrance to any scientific chair that might
afterwards become vacant in our universities. To refute this charge, tlierefore,
as well as to silence his maligners, he resolved to open on the following winter a
class of his own in the town of St. Andrews, and there show whether or not
he was fitted to be a professor of mathematics. lie accordingly did so, and was so
completely attended by the pupils of his former class, that he felt no change
except in the mere locality. In taking this bold independent step, also, he was
anxious to repudiate those resentful or malignant motives to which it might
have been attributed. " My appearance in this place," he said, "may be ascribed
to the worst of passions; some may be disposed to ascribe it to the violence of a
revengeful temper — some to stigmatize me as a firebrand of turbulence and
mischief. These motives I disclaim. I disclaim them with the pride of an in-
dignant heart which feels its integrity. My only motive is, to restore that aca-
demical reputation which I conceive to have been violated by the aspersions of
envy. It is this which has driven me from the peaceful silence of the country —
which has forced me to exchange my domestic retirement for the whirl of con-
tention." In spite of the determined hostility of the professors, whose influence
was all-prevalent in the town, the three classes of mathematics which Chalmers
opened were so fully attended, that he opened a class of chemistry also, and
in this science, his eloquent expositions and successful experiments were so
popular that the whole county was stirred in his favour. His labours at this
youthful commencement of his public career could only have been supported by
an enthusiasm like his own ; for, in addition to daily attendance on his classes,
and preparation of lectures, demonstrations, and experiments, he fulfilled the
duties of the pulpit, returning for that purpose to Kilmany on the Saturday
evenings, and setting out to St. Andrews on Slonday morning. Even his
enemies thought this labour too much, and resolved to lighten it, though witli
no benevolent feeling ; and the presbytery was moved, for the purpose of com-
pelling him to reside permanently at Kilmany, and attend exclusively to the
duties of the parish. It was not the evils of plurality and non-residence in the
abstract which they cared about, but that these should furnish an opportunity for
the lecturer to intrude into St. Andrews, and teach within the very shadow of
its university. Chalmers felt that this was their motive, and wrote to the pres-
bytery an eloquent defence of his conduct. On the following session, he con-
ceded so far as to discontinue his matheraatical classes, and only attend to that
of chemistry, which had become very popular in the county, and would require
his attendance only two or three days of eacli week. Even this did not satisfy
the presbytery, and one of its members requested it to be inserted in their
minutes, that, " in his opinion, Mr. Chalmers' giving lectures in chemistry is
improper, and ought to be discontinued." This was done ; upon whicli Chalmers,
as a member of the presbytery, begged that it should also be inserted in their
minutes, that "after the punctual discharge of his professional duties, his time
was his own; and he conceived that no man or no court had a right to control
him in the distribution of it."

An opportunity soon occurred for which Chalmers had ardently longed. It
was nothing less than a vacancy in the professorship of Natural Philosophy in
St. Andrews, and he became one of three candidates for the chair. But the
whole three were set aside in favour of jMr. Jackson, rector of Ayr Academy.

In the following year (1805) a similar vacancy occurred in the university of
Edinburgh, by the death of Dr. Robinson, and again Chalmers entered the
lists ; but here also he was disappointed, with the consolation, however, that the
successful candidate was no other than the celebrated Leslie. This competition
called forth his first effort in authorship, in tlie form of a pamphlet, in conse-
quence of the assertion, that a ministerial charge and scientific appointment
combined in one person were incompatible — a pamphlet which, in subsequent
years, he laboured to suppress, and gladly would have forgot. At present, how-
ever, his expressed opinion was, that "after the satisfactory discharge of his
parish duties, a minister may enjoy five days in the week of uninterrupted
leisure, for the prosecution of any science in which his taste may dispose him to
engage." This, alas! was too true, if that " satisfactory discharge " of parochial
duty involved nothing more than the usual routine of a parisli minister.
Chalmers, therefore, had to find some other outlet for his "uninterrupted
leisure;" and after having exhausted the field of St, Andrews, he resumed his
lectureship on chemistry in his little parish of Kilmany, and the county town of
Cupai'. But even yet, something additional was needed, besides the delivery of
lectures formerly repeated, and experiments that had been twice tried; and this
was soon furnished by Napoleon's menace of invasion. The hostile camp of the
modern Caesar at Boulogne, and the avowed purpose for which it had been col-
lected, roused the spirit of Britain, so that military associations were formed,
from the metropolis to the hamlet, in every part of our island. This was more
than enough for the ardent spirit of Chalmers, and he enrolled himself in the
St. Andrews corps of volunteers, not only as chaplain, but lieutenant. It is
well known how this threat of an invasion of Britain was exchanged for an at-
tack upon Austria, and how suddenly the breaking up of the hostile encampment
at Boulogne,dismissed a million of armed Britons to their homes and workshops.
On dofiing his military attire, the minister of Kilmany had other and more pro-
fessional occupation to attend to at the bed-side of a dying brother, who had
leturned to his father's home afflicted with consumption, under which he died
in a few months. During the last illness of the amiable sufferer, one of tlie
duties of Thomas Chalmers was to read to his brother portions of those religious
works which he had denounced from the pulpit as savouring of fanaticism, and
to hear the criticism pronounced upon them by the lips of the dying man, as he
fervently exclaimed, "I tliank thee, 0 Father, Lord of heaven and eaitl), that
thou hast hid tliese things from the wise and prudent, and revealed tliem unto
babes." After this departure from life, which Avas one of solemn and impressive
resignation, Chalmers gave relief to his thoughts, first by a journey to England,
in which he visited London, Cambridge, and Oxford, and afterwards by author-
ship. Independently of mathematics, chemistry, and botany, which his ardent
spirit of inquiry had successively mastered, he had studied the science of political
economy ; and now that Bonaparte had published his famous Berlin decree,
by which the mercantile and manufiicturing community of Britain was panic-
struck, Chalmers produced his "Inquiry into the Extent and Stability of
National Resources," to show that this apprehension was groundless. The
analysis of this work can be best given in his own account of it. In a letter to
his brother he says, " The great burden of my argument is, that the manufac-
turer who prepares an article for home consumption is the servant of the inland
consumer, labouring for his gratification, and supported by the price wliich he
pays for the iirticle ; that the manufacturer of an article for exportation is no

102 EEV. THOMAS CIIALD.IERS, D.D.

less the servant of the inland consumer, because, though he does not labour im-
mediately for his gratification, he labours for a return from foreign countries.
This return comes in articles of luxur}-, which fetch a price from our inland
consumers. Hence, it is ultimately from the inland consumer that the manufac-
turer of the exported article derives his maintenance. Suppose, then, that trade
and manufacture 'were destroyed, this does not affect the ability of the inland
consumer. The whole amount of the mischief is, that he loses the luxuries
which were before provided for him, but he still retains the ability to give
the same maintenance as before to the immense population who are now dis-
carded from their former employments. Suppose this ability to be transferred
to government in the form of a tax. Government takes the discarded popula-
tion into its service. They follow their subsistence wherever it can be found;
and thus, from the ruin of our trading and manufacturing interest, government
collects the means of adding to the naval and military establishments of the
country. I therefore anticipate that Bonaparte, after he has succeeded in shut-
ting up the markets of the Continent against us, will be astonished — and that
the mercantile politicians of our own country will be no less astonished— to -find
Britain as hale and vigorous as ever, and fitter than before for all the purposes
of defence, and security, and political independence." Such was the theory of
Chalmers, studied with much care, written with patriotic enthusiasm, and pub-
lished at Edinburgh in the spring of 1808. It was perhaps as well that no op-
portunity occurred of testing its soundness, owing to the remissness with which
the Berlin decree was executed, so that it gradually became a dead letter.
Chalmers, however, was so impressed with the urgency of the danger, and the
efficacy of his plan to remove it, that he was anxious to obtain a national pub-
licity for his volume ; and with this view he had resolved to repair to the capital,
and negotiate for bringing out a new edition by the London publishers. But
this event, which might have altered the whole current of his life, and changed
him into a Malthus or Adam Smith, was prevented by a trying family dispen-
sation, so that instead of embarking in a Dundee smack as he had purposed, he
was obliged to attend the death-bed of one of his sisters. It is to be observed,
however, that his studies in political economy were not to be without im-
portant results. In after years they were brought vigorously and successfully
to bear upon the management of towns and parishes, and the cure of pauperism;
and above all, in organizing the provision of a church, that threw aside, and
at once, the support and maintenance of the State, when conscience demanded
the sacrifice.

In this way, the first twenty-nine years in the life of the subject of this me-
moir had passed. But still, it gives little or no indication of that Dr. Chalmers
who was afterwards so widely renowned throughout the Christian world— of
that very Dr. Chalmers whom the present generation so fondl^^ loved, and still
so vividly- remembers. As yet, the record might serve for an amiable enthusi-
astic savant of England, France, or Ital^', rather than a Scottish country minis-
ter intrusted with the care of sou's, and preparing his accounts for the close of
such a solemn stewardship. But a series of events occurred at this time by
which the whole character of his mind and ministry was to be changed. The
first, and perhaps the most important of these, was the death of his sister, an
event to which we have already alluded. She had departed amidst feelings of hope
and joy that far transcended the mere passive resignation of philosopliy ; and
the affectionate heart that pined within the lonely manse of Kilmany, while re-

REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 103

membering her worth, and lamenting her departure, had a subject of anxious
inquiry bequeatlied to him, as to whence that hope and joy had arisen. The
first indication of this was given in a change that took place in the course of his
authorship. Previous to his sister's decease, and while the " Edinburgh Ency-
clopaadia" was in progress, he had been invited by Dr. Brewster, the distin-
guished editor, to contribute to the work ; and this Chalmers had resolved to do, by
writing the article " Trigonometry," for which purpose he had devoted himself
to the study of Cagnolis " Trigonometria Plana e Sferica," at that time the
standard work upon the subject. Bat after her death he changed his purpose,
and earnestly requested that the article " Christianity" should be committed to
his management,, offering, at the same time, to live three or four months in St.
Andrews, for the purpose of collecting the necessary materials in the college
library. After his sister's decease, the admonitory blow was repeated; this was
the death of Mr. Ballardie, a childless old officer of the navy, in whose affection
he had found a second father, and who was one evening discovered dead upon
his knees, having been called away into life eternal in the very midst of prayer.
These warnings Avere succeeded by a long and severe illness, that reduced him to
the helplessness of infancy, and threatened to be fatal ; and amidst the musings
of a sick chamber, and unquiet tossings upon what he believed to be a death-
bed, the anxious mind of Chalmers had full scope for those solemn investigations
which the previous calamities had awoke into action. But the trial ended ; and
after passing through such a furnace, he emerged into life, and the full vigour
of life, a purified and altered man. His own account of the change and its pro-
cess is truly characteristic, and it will be seen from the following extract, that a
congenial spirit from the dwellings of the dead had hovered, as it were, beside
his pillow, and spoken to him the words of counsel and encouragement. " My
confinement," he wrote to a friend, "has fixed on my heart a very strong
impression of the insignificance of time — an impression which, I trust, will not
abandon me though I again reach the hey-day of health and vigour. This
should be the first step to another impression still more salutary — the magni-
tude of eternity. Strip human life of its connection with a higher scene of
existence, and it is the illusion of an instant, an unmeaning farce, a series of
visions, and projects, and convulsive efforts, which terminate in nothing. I have
been reading Pascal's "Thoughts on Religion ;" you know his history — a man
of the richest endowments, and whose youth was signalized by his profound and
original speculations in mathematical science, but who could stop short in the
brilliant career of discovery, who could resign all the splendours of literary re-
putation, who could renounce without a sigh all the distinctions which are
conferred upon genius, and resolve to devote every talent and every hour to the
defence and illustration of the gospel. This, my dear sir, is superior to all
Greek, and to all Roman fame."

This change which had taken place in the man, was soon manifested in the
minister, and the pulpit of Kilmany no longer gave forth an uncertain sound.
Hitherto, Chalmers had advocated virtuous feeling and a virtuous life as the
head and front of Christianity, to which the righteousness and death of our
blessed Saviour were make-weights and nothing more. And yet, even how
that little was supplemented, and what was Its mode of agency, he could not
conjecture. " In what particular manner," he thus preached, "the death of
our Redeemer effected the remission of our sins, or rather, why that death was
made a condition of this remission, seems to be an unrevealed point in the Scrip- ^

tiircs. Perhaps the God of nature meant to illustrate the purity of his perfec-
tion to tlie children of men; perhaps it was efficacious in promoting tl:e
improvement, and confirming the virtue of other orders of being. The tencto
of those whose gloom}' and unenlarged minds are apt to imagine that the Au-
thor of nature required the death of Jesus merely for the reparation of violated
justice, are rejected by all free and rational inquirers." In this manner he
groped his way in utter uncertainty — a blind leader of the blind, upon a path
where to stumble may be to fall for ever. But a year had elapsed, a new sun
had arisen, and his eyes were opened. " I am now most thoroughly of opinion,"
he writes, " and it is an opinion founded on experience, that on the system of
' Do this and live,' no peace, and even no true and worthy obedience, can ever
be attained. It is, ' Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.'
When this belief enters the heart, joy and confidence enter along with it. The
righteousness which we try to work out for ourselves eludes our impotent
grasp, and never can a soul arrive at true or permanent rest in the pursuit of
this object. The righteousness which by f;iith we put on, secures our accept-
ance with God, and secures our interest in his promises, and gives us a part in
those sanctifying influences by which we are enabled to do with aid from on
high what we never can do without it. We look to God in a new light — we see
Ilim as a reconciled Father; that love to him which terror scares away, re-enters
the heart, and with a new principle and a new power, we become new creatures
in Jesus Christ our Lord." Not only the change in the spirit of his pulpit
ministrations was now remarkable, but the manner in which they were prepared.
Of this we have a striking proof in the following incident. Mr. John Bon-
thron, a near neighbour and intimate acquaintance, one day remarked to Mr.
Chalmers, before his illness had commenced: " I find you aye busy, sir, with
one thing or another, but come when I may, I never find you at your studies
for the Sabbath." " Oh, an hour or two on the Saturday evening is quite
enough for that," replied the minister. After the change, the visitor found that,
call when he might, he found IMr. Chalmers employed in the stud}' of the
Scriptures, and could not help expressing his wonderment : "I never come in
now, sir, but I find you aye at your Bible." " All too little, John, all too
little," was the altered minister's reply.

Two years had passed onward in this state, during which the changed condi-
tion of the church of Kilmany and its talented minister had been a subject of
speculation throughout the whole county. It was not that he had abandoned
scientific pursuits, for he still cultivated these as ardently as ever ; nor relin-
quished his devotedness to literature, for he was more eager for the labours
and enjoyments of authorship than before. But all these were kept in
subserviency to a more important principle of existence, and consecrated to a
higher aim. He had now reached the matured age of thirty-two, a period of
life at which the most active may well wish for a partner in tlieir labours, and
the most recluse and studious a companion of their thoughts. He had also been
the occupant of a lonely manse during nine long years, but was still as ignorant
of the management and details of housekeeping as when he first entered tliat
dwelling, and sat down to resume his college problems. His heart, too, had
been lately opened and expanded by the glorious truths of the gospel— and how
earnestly does it then seek a congenial heart into which it may utter its emotions,
a kindred soul with whom it may worship and adore ! And such a one was al-
ready provided ; one who through life was to soothe his cares, animate his labours,

I;EV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 105

console him in his disappointments, and finall}- to rejoin him in a happier world
than that he had left, after a brief separation. This was IMiss Grace Pratt, second
daughter of Captain Pratt, of the 1st Roj^al Veteran Battalion. IMr. Chalmers,
indeed, on account of the smallness of his stipend, had previously resolved never
to marry ; but when this amiable lady appeared for a short time in his neigh-
bourhood, the resolution was somehow lost sight of, and Avhen she was about to
remove to her own home, he felt that there was no further leisure for delaj\ He
was accepted, and they were married on the 4th August, 1812. The following
picture of the state of life into which he had entered, forms the hcau ideal of a
happy country manse, and its newly-married inmates. Writing to his sister,
he says, " I have got a small library for her ; and a public reading in the after-
noon, v.'lien we take our turns for an hour or so, is looked upon as one of the
most essential parts of our family management. It gives me the greatest
pleasure to inform you, that in my new connection, I have found a coadjutor
who holds up her face for all the proprieties of a clergyman's family, and even
pleads for their extension beyond what I had originally proposed. We have
now family worship twice a-day ; and though you are the only being on earth
to whom 1 would unveil the most secret arrangements of our family, I cannot
resist the pleasure of telling you, because I know that it will give you the truest
pleasure to understand, that in those still more private and united acts of devo-
tion which are so beautifully described in the 'Cottar's Saturday Night,' I feel
a comfort, an elevation, and a peace of mind of which I was never before con-
scious."

Allusion has already been made to the connection of Mr. Chalmers with the
'' Edinburgh Encyclopcedia," and the earnest desire he had expressed, so early as
the year 1809, to have the article ''Christianity" intrusted to his management.
This request was complied with, and early in 1813, his treatise under that title
appeared in the 6th volume of the work. It consisted, as is well known, of the
evidences of the divine origin of Christianity, based, not upon the internal
excellence of its character, or the proofs of its heaven-derived origin, as exhi-
bited in the divine nature of its teaching, but simply upon the historical proofs of
its authenticity. No fact in the Avhole range of history could be more certain than
that Christ and his apostles had lived at the period assigned to them, and that
they had acted and taught precisely according to the record which revelation
has handed down to us. This being satisfactorily ascertained, all cavil must be
silenced, and all hesitation abandoned : that teaching has been shown to be from
God, and nothing more remains for man but implicitly to receive, and humbly
to obey it. This was his line of argument, and it had been so early matured in
his niind, that he had developed the idea m one of his chemical lectures delivered
at St. Andrews. " The truth of Christianity," he said, " is neither more nor
less than the truth of certain facts that have been handed down to us by the
testimony of reporters." The originality of his arguments, the force of his con-
clusions, and the eloquent, clear, and vigorous style in which they were expressed,
arrested the public attention, and secured for the article such a favourable recep-
tion, that for the purpose of diffusing its benefits more widely, the proprietors
of the " Encyclopjedia" caused it to be published as a separate work. Still,
however, there were not a few who complained that the base of Christian evi-
dence had been unnecessarily lessened by such an exclusive mode of reasoning ;
and he was addressed on the subject, not only with private remonstrance, but
also with sharp criticisms through the press. The effect of all this was, gradu-

V. o

105 REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.T).

ally to enlarge his conceptions upon the subject, so that more than twenty years
after, when the work i-eappeared in his " Institutes of Theology," it was with
the internal evidences added to the external. In this way, he surrendered a
long-cherished and beloved theory to more matured convictions, and satisfied,
while he answered, the objections which the first appearance of liis treatise had
occasioned.

These were not the only literar}^ labours of Chalmers at this period. About
the same time that his article on Christian evidence appeared in the " Encj'^clo-
paedia," ho published a pamphlet, entitled, " The Influence of Bible Societies
upon the Temporal Necessities of the Poor." It had been alleged, that the
parochial associations formed in Scotland in aid of the Bible Society, would cur-
tail the voluntary parish funds that were raised for the relief of the poor. This
argument touched Chalmers very closely; for he was not only an enthusiastic
advocate for the relief of poverty by voluntary contribution instead of compul-
sovy poors'-rates, but also an active agent in the multiplication of Bible-Society
associations over the country. He therefore endeavoured to show, that these
different institutions, instead of being hostile, would be of mutual aid to each
other ; and that Bible Societies had a tendency not only to stimulate and en-
large Christian liberality, but to lessen the amount of poverty, by introducing
a more industrious and independent spirit among the poor. This was speedily
followed by a review of " Cuvier's Essay on the Theory of the Earth," which
was published in the " Christian Instructor," and in which Chalmers boldly
ventured to call in question the generally received chronology which theologians
have ventured to engraft upon the Mosaic account of the creation. They had
asserted hitherto that the world was not more than six thousand years old, and
adduced the sacred history as their warrant, while the new discoveries in geo-
logy incontestibly proved that it must have had a much earlier origin. Here,
then, revelation and the facts of science were supposed to be completely at
variance, and infidelity revelled in the contradiction. But Chalmers boldly cut
the knot, not by cjuestioning theveracity of Moses, but the correctness of his inter-
preters; and he asked, "Does Moses ever say that there was not an interval of
many ages betwixt the first act of creation, described in the first verse of the book
of Genesis, and said to have been performed at the beginning, and those more
detailed operations, the account of which commences at the second verse ? Or
does he ever make us to understand, that the genealogies of man went any fur-
ther than to fix the antiquity of the species, and, of consequence, that they left
the antiquity of the globe a free subject for the speculations of philosophers?"
These questions, and the explanations with which they were followed, were of
weight, as coming not only from a clergyman whose orthodoxy was now unimpeach-
able, but who had distinguished himself so lately in the illustration of Christian
evidence ; — and, perhaps, it is unnecessary to add, that the solution thus offered is
the one now generally adopted. The subject of " Missions" next occupied his
pen, in consequence of an article in the " Edinburgh Review," whicli, while
giving a notice of Lichtenstein's " Travels in Southern Africa," took occasion, by
lauding the IMoravian missionaries, to disparage other missions, as beginning their
instructions at the wrong end, while the Moravian brethren had hit upon the true
expedient of first civilizing savages, and afterwards teaching them the doctrines of
Christianity. Chalmers showed that, in point of fact, this statement was untrue ;
and proved, from the testimony of the brethren themselves, that the civilization
of their savage converts was the effect, and not the cause — the sequel rather than

KEY. TU03IAS CHALMERS, T).D. 107

the prelude oF Christian teaching-. They had first tried the civilizing process,
and most egregiously failed; they had afterwards, and at hap-hazard, read to
the obdurate savages the account of our Saviour's death fuom the Evangelists,
1)3' Avliich they were arrested and moved in an instant; and this process, which
tlie Moravians had afterwards adopted, was the secret of the wonderful success
of their missions. These were subjects into which his heart fully entered, as a
Christian divine and a lover of science, and therefore he brought to each of these
productions his usual careful research and persuasive eloquence. It is not,
liowever, to be thought that amidst such congenial occupations the intellectual
labour necessary for the duties of the pulpit was in any way remitted. On the
contrary, many of his sermons, prepared at this period for the simple rustics of
Kilmanj^, were afterwards preached before crowds of the most accomplished of
our island in Glasgow, Edinburgh, and London, and afterwards committed to
the press, almost without any alteration. The highest eloquence is the utter-
ance of a full heart that cannot be silent. And such was the eloquence of
Chalmers. During three years he had been intensely occupied with the most
important and soul-engrossing of all themes: they brought to his awakened
perceptions the charm of a new existence; and these sermons were but the
expressions of love, and wonder, and delight, which every fresh discovery of
that new existence evolved from him. And where, in such a state, was tlie need
of listening thousands, or the deep-muttered thunder of popular applause?
He must thus write though no eye should peruse the writing, and give it utter-
ance although it were only to the trees or the winds. And when such produc-
tions are spoken before living men, the orator, while his auditors appear before
him in glimpses and at intervals, does not pause to gauge their intellectuality,
their rank, or their numbers. He only feels that they are immortal beings, and
that he is commissioned to proclaim to them the tidings of eternity.

But the time had now arrived when this training, in the course of Providence,
was to be turned to its proper account, and such powers to find their proper
field of action. His renown as a preacher, by whicli all Fifeshire was stirred,
had gone abroad, Avhile his literary reputation and intellectual powers were
stamped by his published productions beyond the possibility of doubt or cavil.
In this case, too, as was most fitting, he did not seek, but was sought. Dr. Macgill,
minister of the Tron church, Glasgow, had been translated to the divinity
chair of the university^ of that city, and the task of finding a successor to the
vacant pulpit devolved upon the town-council. The name of the minister of
Kilmany was forthwith heard, and, after due consideration, the usual overtures
were made to him to accept the charge of the Tron church. But tempting
though such an offer might be, tlie rural minister demurred and held back,
lie could not persuade himself to abandon a people whom his lately-awakened
spirit had inspired with a kindred sympathy, and who were wont every Sab-
bath to throng their long-deserted pews with such eager solicitude, and listen to
his teaching with such solemn intei'est. But, above all, the secularities of a
great city charge, and the inroads which it would make upon his time and at-
tention, filled him with alarm. " I know of instances," he wrote in reply,
" where a clergyman has been called from the country to town for his talent at
preaching; and when he got there, they so belaboured him with the drudgery
of their institutions, that they smotliered and extinguished tiie very talent tor
which they had adopted him. The purity and independence of the clerical office
are not sufficiently respected in great towns. He comes among them a clergyman.

lOS REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

and they make a mere churchwarden of him." His objections were at lengtlt
overruled, and on beinq elected by a large majority of the town-council of Glas-
gow, he signified his acceptance, and was inducted into his important charge on
the 21st July, 1815, when he had reached the matured and vigorous age of
thirty-five. It was a day of impatient expectation in our meti'opolis of manu-
factures and commerce, as after his acceptance, and four months previous to his
admission, its citizens had enjoj'ed the opportunity of hearing with their own
ears a specimen of that eloquence which hitherto they had known only by
report. The occasion was the annual meeting- of the Society of the Sons of the
Clergy, held at Glasgow, before which Ciialaiers was appointed to preach; and
the feeling of the vast multitude that sat electrified beneath his wondrous power
might have been expressed in the language of the Queen of Sheba: They had
heard of it only, and could not believe; but now they found that half of the
truth had not been told them.

As soon as he had got fairly located in Glasgow, Chalmers found that, not-
withstanding all his previous stipulations to that effect, his time was no longer
to be his own. But still worse than this, he found that it was to be frittered
av.'ay in ten thousand frivolous occupations with whicl), he justly thought, his
sacred office had nothing to do. Three months had scarcely elapsed, when we
find him thus writing on the subject : " This, Sir, is a wonderful place; and I
am half-entertained, half-provoked by some of the peculiarities of its people. The
peculiarity which bears hardest upon me is, the incessant demand they have
upon all occasions for the personal attendance of the ministers. They must
have four to every funeral, or they do not think that it has been genteelly gone
through. They must have one or more to all the committees of all the societies.
They must fall in at every procession. They must attend examinations
innumerable, and eat of the dinners consequent upon these examinations.
They have a niche assigned them in almost every public doing, and that niche
must be filled up by them, or the doing loses all its solemnity in the eyes of the
public. There seems to be a superstitious charm in the very sight of them; and
such is the manifold officiality with which they are covered, that they must be
paraded among all the meetings and all the institutions." It was not without
cause that he thus complained; for in coming to details, we find him at one time
obliged to sit in judgment as to whether such a gutter should be bought up and
covered over, or left alone as it stood; and whether ox-hcad soup or pork
broth was the fittest diet for a poor's house; alternated, on going home, witli
the necessity of endorshig applications of persons wishing to follow the calling of
spirit-sellers and pedlars. This, indeed, was to have " greatness thrust upon him ! "
But the evil had originated in Glasgow so early as the days of the covenant, when
every movement was more or less connected with religion; and it was perpetu-
ated and confirmed by the mercantile bustle that succeeded in later periods,
when every merchant or shopkeeper was eager to devolve upon the minister
those occupations that would have interfered with his own professional pursuits.
These difficulties Chalmers was obliged to wrestle down as he best could, and
at the risk of being complained of as an innovator; but a persevering course of
sturdy' refusal at length reduced the grievance to a manageable compass. When
this was surmounted, there was still another trial to be got rid of, that originated
in his own daily increasing popularity. He Avas now the great mark of admi-
ration and esteem, so that all were not only eager to visit him, but to have their
visits reciprocated. When these demands were also comprised within tolerable

REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D, 109

limits, a tliird difficulty -vvas to be confronted, that could not so easily be over-
come, as it arose from his own parish, of which he had the oversight. That
our ministers might he able, like the apostles of old, to give themselves " con-
tinually to prayer and to the ministry of the Word," our church had wisely
appointed not only deacons to take charge of the temporalities of the congrega-
tion, but elders to assist tlic pastor in the visitation of the sick, and all the out-
door duties of his ecclesiastical charge. But while the work of the deaconship
had become of late little more than a dead letter, tlie duties of the eldership had
diminished almost entirely to the Sabbath collections in the church porch, and
their allocation to the poor of the parish. Most truly, therefore, did a certain
minister of Edinburgh, after a charity sermon, announce, in full simplicity of
heart, to those who might be disposed to contribute still farther, that in going
out, they would find standing at the door "the church plates, and their co?zco7«2-
tants the elders." Chalmers felt that this worn-out machinery must be renewed,
and restored to its former efficiency; for otherwise, in a parish containing nearly
twelve thousand souls, he could be little more than its Sabbath preacher. To this
important task he therefore addressed himself, and the result of his labours in
the ecclesiastical organization of his parish, which were followed by general
imitation, proved how justly he had appreciated the difficulties that beset a city
minister, and the most effectual remedies by which they are obviated.

While he was thus contending with this " mortal coil" of secular occupation,
and shuffling it off' as well as he might, the pulpit preparations of tlie new
minister evinced that it was not his own ease that he sought by this earnest
desire of silence and seclusion. For it was not by mere eloquence and original-
ity of style that his weeldy sermons not only retained, but increased his reputa-
tion and efficiency ; on the contrary, their depth of thought and originality of
sentiment were more wonderful than their language, powerful and startling
though it was. His preaching was in some measure the commencement of a
new era in the history of the Scottish Church. To understand this ariglit, we
must keep in mind the two parties into which the Church had been divided,
and the solicitude they had manifested for nearly a century, to avoid every
meeting except a hostile collision. On the one side was the Evangelical party,
with whom tlie sympathies of the people were enlisted, and on the other the
Moderates, wlio generally speaking, comprised the aristocrac}-, the philosophists,
and tlie politicians of the communit}', men Avho talked of the "march of mind,"
and the " progress of improvement," and who thought that religion, as well as
everything else, should accommodate itself to that progress. With such men
the theology of our fathers was distasteful, because it was old-fashioned, and
their aim was to dilute it so effectually with modern liberalism as to adapt it
to the tastes and exigencies of the day. Hence the cautiousness with which
they were wont, in their sermons, to avoid all such topics as election, regenera-
tion, and the atonement, and the decided preference which they showed for those
moral duties upon which man can decide and act for himself. In this way,
they too often confined their teaching to those virtues on which all creeds are
more or less agreed, so that sometimes it would have been difficult to divine,
from the tenor of such discourses, whether the speaker was Christian, Pagan,
or Infidel, With the evangelical party the case was wholly different. Enger
to preach the paramount importance of faith, they were too ready to lose sight
of its fruits as exemplified in action ; while every mention of human virtue was
apt to be condemned as legalism, self-seeking, and reliance on the covenant of

110 REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

works instead of the covenant of grace. That the heavenly and divine mii^ht be
everything, the human was reduced to nothing; and to exalt the all-in-all suf-
ficiency of redemption^ man was to sit still, not only under its present coming,
but also its future influences. And to impress upon their hearers more fully
the necessity of this redemption, an odious picture was generally drawn of
human nature, in which all that is helpless, and worthless, and villanous, was
heaped together indiscriminately, and made to constitute a picture of man in his
original condition. In this way, either party diverged from the other, the one
towards Socinianism, and the other to Antinomianism, so that it was sometimes
hard to tell which of these aberrations was the worst ; while of their flocks it
might too often be said —

" The hungrj- sheep look'd up, r.nd were Bot fed."
It would be insulting to ask which of these two parties Chalmers followed as
n public spiritual teacher. His was a mind not likely to be allured either by
the shrivelled pliilosophy of the one, or the caricatured Calvinism of the other.
He rejected both, and adopted for himself a course which was based upon the
fulness of revelation itself, instead of the exclusive one-sided nook of a body
of mere religionists; a course which i-econciled and harmonized the anomalies of
every-day reality with the unerring declarations of Scripture. Thus, he could
not see that every man at his birth was inevitably a liar, a murderer, and a
villain. Instead of this, there was such a thing as innate virtue ; and men might
be patriots, philanthropists, and martyrs, even without being Christians. And
here he drew such pictures of the natural man in his free unconstrained noble-
ness— such delineations of disinterestedness, humanity', integrity, and self denial
welling forth from hearts that were still unrenewed, as Plato might have heard
Vi'ith enthusiasm, and translated into his own richest Attic eloquence. And was
not all this true ? Was it not daily exhibited, not only in our empire at large, but
even in the mercantile communities of that city in which his lot had now been
cast ? But Avhile the self-complacent legalist was thus carried onward delighted,
and regaled with such descriptions of the innate nobleness of human character
as his own teachers had never furnished, he was suddenly brought to an awful
pause by the same resistless eloquence. The preacher proceeded to show that
still these words were an incontestable immutable verity, " There is none
righteous, no not one." For in spite of all this excellence, the unrenewed heart
was still at enmity with God, and in all its doings did nothing at his command or
for his sake. And therefore, however valuable this excellence might be for time
and the world, it was still worthless for etei'nity. It was of the earth, earthy,
and would pass away with the earth. It sought a requital short of heaven, and
even already had obtained its reward.

An event soon occurred after the arrival of Mr., now Dr., Chalmers in Glasgow,
by which his reputation as a preacher was no longer to be confined to Scotland,
but diffused over the world, wherever the English language is known. We allude
to his well known "Astronomical Discourses," Avhicli, of all his writings, will
perhaps be the most cherished by posterit}^ It was the custom of the city clergy-
men to i^reach every Thursday in rotation in the Tron church ; and as there were
only eight ministers, the turn of each arrived after an interval of two months.
Dr. Chalmei's took his shai-e in this duty, for the first time, on the 15th Novem-
ber, 1815, and commenced with the first lecture of the astronomical series, which
lie followed up during his turn in these week-day services, for the year
1816. To those who have only read these discourses, it would be enough

REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. Ill

to say, in the words of Jj^schines, "What would you have said if you had seen
him discharge all this thunder-storm of eloquence? ' They were published at
the commencemeut of 1817; and the avidity with wliicli they were read is
shown by the f;ict, that GOOO copies were disposed of in a month, and nearly
20,000 within the course of the year. Nothing like it had occurred in the
publication of sermons eitlier in England or Scotland; and while the most
illiterate were charmed with the production, the learned, the scientific, and the
critical, read, admired, and were convinced. London would not rest until it
had seen and heard the living man ; and Dr. Chalmers was invited to preach the
anniversary sermon for the London Missionary Society. Thither he accordingly
went, and delivered a discourse in Surrey chapel, on the 14th May. The ser-
vice was to commence at eleven, but so early as seven in the morning that vast
building of 8000 sittings was crowded, while thousands of disappointed comers
were obliged to go away. An account of what followed, written home by Mr.
Smith, one of his Iriends, who accompanied him from Glasgow, is thus expressed:
"I write under the nervousness of having heard and witnessed the most astonish-
ing display of human talent that perhaps ever commanded sight or hearing.
Dr. Chalmers has just finished the discourse before the Missionary Society. All
my expectations were overwhelmed in the triumph of it. Nothing from the
Tron pulpit ever exceeded it, nor did he ever more arrest and wonder-work his
auditors. I had a full view of the whole place. The carrying forward of
minds never was so visible to me: a constant assent of the head from the whole
people accompanied all his paragraphs, and the breathlessness of expectation
permitted not the beating of a heart to agitate the stillness." Other demands
for sermons followed ; for, in the words of "Wilberforce's Diary," "all the world
was wild about Dr. Chalmers." Even Canning, who was one of his hearers,
and who was melted into tears by his sermon for the Hibernian Society, declared
that, " notwithstanding the northern accent and unpolished manner of the
speaker, he had never been so arrested by any kind of oratory." " The tartan,'"
he added, " beats us all." But the best and most valuable testimony was that
of the Rev. Robert Hall, himself the Chalmers of England, whose generous heart
rejoiced in the eclipse which he had just sustained by the arrival of his northern
brother; and in writing to him, after his return to Glasgow, he says: '•' It
would be difficult not to congratulate j^ou on the unrivalled and unbounded

popularity which attended you in the metropolis Tlie attention

which your sermons have excited is probably unequalled in modern literature ;
and it must be a delightful reflection, that you are advancing the cause of religion
in innumerable multitudes of your fellow-creatures, whose faces you v.'ill never
behold till the last day."

It is now time to turn from Dr. Chalmers in his study and pulpit, to Dr.
Chalmers in his hard-working life of every-day usefulness. And here we shall
find no dreaming theorist, contented with fireside musing upon the best plans of
ameliorating the evils of society, or daunted midway by the difficulties of the
attempt. Considering what he had already done, there was none who could
more justly have claimed the full privileges of literary leisure and retirement.
But when he threw off the throng of extraneous occupation that surrounded
him, it ^^as only that he might have room for equally arduous employment, in
which the " full proof of his ministry " more especially consisted. It Avas not
enough that he should see and address his congregation; he must visit the
houses, examine the families, and become acquainted with the individuals of

112 LEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

which that congregation was composed. lie must also bring himself in contact
with those of his parish who belonged to no congregation — the vicious, the
reckless, the ignorant, and the poor — and endeavour, by his favourite process ot
"excavation," to bring them out from their murky concealments into the light
of day, and the elevating influence of gospel ordinances. Twelve thousand
souls to be visited! — but is not a soul worth looking after ? To work therefore
he went as soon as he became minister of the Tron church parish, undergoing
an amount of bodily labour such as few would have cared to encounter, but
resolute not to abandon the task until it was completed. A few weeks thus
emploj'ed enabled him to ascertain what evils existed, as well as what remedies
should be applied. It was necessary that the destitute and the outcast of his
parish should be frequently visited, and for the performance of this duty he
infused his own active spirit into the eldership by which he was surrounded.
Tlie fearful ignorance that was accumulating among the young of the lower
orders must be dispersed; and, for this purpose, he organized a society among
his congregation for the establishment of Sabbath-schools in the parish. These
schools became so numerous, and so well attended, that in two years they
numbered 1200 children, receiving regular religious instruction. A single close
furnished the necessary amount of pupils for a school; and the teacher who
visited its families for the purpose of bringing them out, was taught to watch
over that little locality as his own especial parisli.

This course of daily labour and visitation had its prospective, as well as
immediate benefits. Dr. Chalmers had hitherto witnessed poverty and its
results only upon a small scale. It was here a family, and there an individual,
over the extent of a country parish ; and for these cases, private benevolence
and the contributions at the church door had generally been found sufficient.
But now he was brought into close contact with poverty and destitution acting
upon society in thousands, and producing an aggravation of crime, as well as
misery, such as his rural experience had never witnessed. For all this, how-
ever, he was not wholly unprepared. He had already studied the subject in the
abstract, and he found that now Avas the time, and here the field, to bring his
tlieories on the subject into full operation. His idea, from all he witnessed,
was but the more strongly confirmed, that the simple parochial apparatus of
Scotland, so effectual for the relief of a village or country parish, would be
equally efficacious lor a populous city, and that recourse to poors-rates and
compulsory charity would only foster the evil which it aimed to cure. This
conviction he now endeavoured to impress, not only in conversation and by public
speeches, but also by his articles on " Pauperism" in the " Edinburgh Review,"
and a series of essays, which he afterwards published, on the " Civic and
Christian Economy of Large Towns." But to go to the very source of poverty,
and strike at once at the root, was his chief aim ; and this could only be accom-
l^lished by indoctrinating the masses of a crowded city with the principles of
Christian industry, independence, and morality. Even this, too, the parochial
sj-stem had contemplated, by an adequate provision of church accommodation
and instruction ; but, unfortunately, while the population of the country had
been nearly trebled, tlie church provision had remained stationary. The con-
sequence was, that even in his own parish of the Tron, there were not a third
who attended any church, notwithstanding the additional accommodation which
dissent had furnished. And such, or still worse, was the state of matters over
the whole of Glasgow. What he therefore wanted was "twenty more churches.

r.EV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 113

and twenty more ministers," for that city alone; and this desideratum lie
boldly announced in his sermon on the death of the Princess Charlotte in 1817.
Such a conclusion was but the unavoidable result of a train of premises to which
all were ready to assent, while the demand itself, instead of being extravagant
was considerably' short of the emergency. And yet it ^vas clamoured at, and
cried down in every form of argument and ridicule, as the wildest of all bene-
volent extravagancies, and even the addition of a single church, which the
magistrates had decided a few months previous, was thought too much. But
strong in the confidence of truth. Dr. Chalmers held fast to his much decried
doctrine, until he had the satisfaction of finding his churcli extension principle
generally adopted, and not twenty, but two hundred additional churches erected
in our towns and cities, to attest the soundness of his argument, and reward the
zeal with which he had urged it.

The one additional cliurch to which we have adverted, was that of St. John's,
of which he was elected to be minister, with a new parish attaclied to it of ten
thousand persons, almost entirely operatives. It redounds to the honour of the
magistrates and town council of Glasgow to state, that this erection of a new
parish and church, was for the purpose of giving Dr. Chalmers full opportunity
of testing the parochial principle as applied to large towns; and that for this
purpose they freed him from those restrictions which had gathered upon the
old city charges, and conceded to him and his kirk session a separate inde-
pendent parochial jurisdiction. The building, being finished, was opened on the
2Gth September, 181D, and crowded by its new parishioners, who had now their
own church and minister, while the latter met them with equal ardour, and
commenced at once the duties of his new sphere. He was ably seconded by
Ins elders, a numerous body of active, intelligent, devoted men, and by the
deacons, whose office was restored to its original efficiency under his superin-
tendence ; and as each had his own particular district to which his labours were
confined, every family and every individual in the new parish, containing a
population of ten thousand, had his own spiritual and temporal condition more
or less attended to. In addition to these aids, he was soon surrounded by
eighty Sabbath-school teachers, each superintending the religious education of
the children belonging to his own little locality. These labours w-ere not long
continued until another great parochial want called forth the attention of Dr.
Chalmers. It was the state of secular education, which, defective as it was
throughout Glasgow in general, was peculiarly so in the new parish, whose
population chiefly consisted of weavers, labourers, and factory-workers — persons
who were unable to obtain a good education for their children, notwithstanding
its cheapness as compared with that of England. On account of this, it was
soon found in the Sabbath-schools that many of the children could not read a
single verse of Scripture without such hammering as to make its meaning
irniutelligible. Something must be done, and that instantly, to counteract the
evil. But mere charity schools and gratis education were an abomination to the
doctor, who well knew that that which is got for nothing is generally reckoned
worth nothing, and treated accordingl}'. The best education at the cheapest
rate— the independence of the poor secured, while their children were efficiently
taught — this was the happy medium which he sought, and which he found
ready to his hand in the plan of Scottish parochial education. Let sucli a
salary be secured for the teacher, that an active and accomplished man will find
it worth his while to devote himself to the work; but, at the same time, let the

V. p

lli REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

small school-fees of the pupils be such as to secure the feeling of personal inde-
pendence, and make them value the instruction for which a price is exacted.
An "education committee" was therefore established for St. John's; subscrip-
tions were set on foot for the erection and endowment of schools; and when a
sufficient sum was procui'ed, a desirable site was found for the building- of the
first school. The ground was the property of the College, and Dr. Chalmers
repaired to its head, the venerable Principal Taj'lor, to obtain it upon such
cheap terms as the case justly demanded. "Ah 1" said the Principal, shaking
his head, " we have been talking about establishing parochial schools in Glasgow
for these twenty years." " Yes," replied Dr. Chalmers, " but now we are going
to do the thing, not to talk about it ; we are going to take the labour of talking
and planning completely off j'our hands." This good-humoured application
was successful ; and by the middle of 1820 the school was finished, and the
work of teaching commenced, under two efficient schoolmasters. Another
school was soon erected by the same prompt liberality that had supplied funds
for the first, and conducted also by two able masters. The four teachers had each
a fixed salary of £25 per annum, and a free house, in addition to the fees of 2s.
per quarter forreading, and 3s. for reading, writing, arithmetic, and book-keeping,
while the right of admission was limited to parishioners exclusively. There
was full need of this restriction, for so highly were the benefits of this system of
education appreciated, that the two schools had 419 pupils. Even when the doctor
left Glasgow, also, the work was still going on through fresh contributions and
erections, so that about 800 children belonging to the parish were furnished
with the means of a complete and liberal education at a small expense. Such a
heavy and complicated amoimt of toil as all this organization involved, would
have been impossible for any one man, however energetic, and even Dr. Chalmers
himself would have sunk beneath the load before his four years' experiment in
St. John's had expired, had it not been for the efficient aid which he received
from his assistant, the Rev. Edward Irving. Contemplating the vast amount
of work which he had proposed to himself in his trial of the parochial system
as applied to large towns, it had been considerately resolved that a regular
assistant should be allowed him in the task ; and by a train of fortuitous cir-
cumstances, that office was devolved upon a congenial spirit — one to the full
as wonderful in his own way as Dr. Chalmers, but whose career was afterwards
to be so erratic, and finally'' so mournful and disastrous. At present, however,
the mind of Irving, although swelling witli high aspirations, Avas regulated,
controlled, and directed by the higher intellect and gentler spirit of his
illustrious principal, so that his vast powers, both physical and mental, were
brought fully to bear upon their proper work. Nothing, indeed, could be a
more complete contrast than the genuine simplicity and rustic bearing of Dr.
Chalmers, compared with the colossal form, Salvator Rosa countenance, and
startling mode of address that distinguished his gifted assistant. But different
as they were in external appearance and manner, their purpose and work were
the same, and both were indefatigable in advancing the intellectual and spiritual
interests of the parish of St. John's. Little, indeed, could it have been augured
of these two remarkable men, that in a few years after they would be the
founders of two churches, and that these churches should be so different in their
doctrines, character, and bearings.

After having laboured four years in the ministerial charge of St. John's
parish, a new change was to take place in the life of Dr. Chalmers, by the ful-

EEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 115

filmont of one of his earliest aspirations. It will be remembered, that in the
period of his youth, when he was about to commence his ministry in tlie parish
of Kilmany, his earnest wishes were directed towards a chair in the university
of St. Andrews; and nnw, after the lapse of more than twenty years, his desires
were to be gratified. The professorship of ?tIoral Pliilosophy in that university
had become vacant, and it was felt by the professors that none was so well
fitted to occupy the charge, and increase the literary reputation of the college,
as Dr. Chalmers, their honoured ahimmis, whose reputation was now diffused
over Europe. The offer, also, which was neither of his own seeking nor expect-
ing, was tendered in the most respectful manner. Such an application from
his cdma mater, with which his earliest and most affectionate remembrances
were connected, did not solicit him in vain ; and after signifying his consent, he
was unanimoush' elected to the office on the 18tli January, 1823. Six different
applications had previously been made to him from various charges since his
arrival in Glasgow, but these he had steadfastly refused, for he felt that there he
liad a work to accomplish, to which everj^ temptation of ecclesiastical promo-
tion or literary ease must be postponed. But now the case was different. The
]nachinery which he had set in motion with such immense exertion, might nov/
be carried on by an ordinary amount of effort, and therefore could be intrusted
to a meaner hand. His own health had suffered by the labour, and needed both
repose and change. He felt, also, that a new career of usefulness in the cause
of religion might be opened up to him by the occupation of a university chair,
and the opportunities of literarj^ leisure which it would afford him. And no
change of self-seeking, so liberally applied in cases of clerical translation, could
be urged in the present instance ; as the transition was from a large to a smaller
income; and from a thronging city, where he stood in the full blaze of his repu-
tation, to a small and remote county town, where the highest merit would be
apt to sink into obscurity. IMuch grumbling, indeed, there was throughout
Glasgow at large, and not a little disappointment expressed by the kirk session
of St. John's, when the proposed movement was announced ; but the above-
mentioned reasons had at last their proper weight, and the final parting was
one of mutual tenderness and esteem. The effect of his eight years' labours in
that city is thus summed up by his eloquent biographer, the Rev. Dr. llanna : —
" When Dr. Chalmers came to Glasgow, by the great body of the upper classes
of society evangelical doctrines were nauseated and despised ; when he left it,
even by those who did not bow to their influence, these doctrines were acknow-
ledged to be indeed the very doctrines of the Bible. When Dr. Chalmers came
to Glasgow, in the ej'e of the multitude evangelism stood confounded with a
drivelling sanctimoniousness, or a sour-minded ascetism ; Avhen he left it, from
all such false associations the Christianity of the New Testament stood clearly
and nobly redeemed. When Dr. Chalmers came to Glasgow, for nearly a
century the magistrates and town council had exercised the city patronage in
a spirit determinately anti-evangelical ; when he left it, so complete was the
revolution which had been effected, that from that time forward none but
evangelical clergymen were appointed by the city patrons. When Di". Chalmers
came to Glasgow, there and elsewhere over Scotland, there were many most
devoted clergymen of the Establishment who had given tliemselves up wholly
to the ministry of the Word and to prayer, but there was not one in \vhose
faith and practice week-day ministrations had the place or power which he
assigned to them ; when he left it he had exhibited such a model of fidelity,

H3 REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

diligence, and activity in all departments of ministerial labour, as told finally
upon the spirit and practice of the whole ministry of Scotland. When Dr.
Chalmers came to Glasgow, unnoticed thousands of the city population were
sinking into ignorance, infidelity, and vice, and his eye was the first in this
country to foresee to what a fearful magnitude that evil, if suffered to grow on
unchecked, Avould rise; when he left it, his ministry in that city remained
behind him, a permanent warning to a nation Avhich has been but slow to learn
that the greatest of all questions, both for statesmen and for churchmen, is the
condition of those untaught and degraded thousands who swarm now around the
base of the social edifice, and whose brawny arms may j'et grasp its pillars to
shake or to destroy. When Dr. Chalmers came to Glasgow, in the literary
circles of the Scottish metropolis a thinly disguised infidelity sat on the seats
of greatest influence, and smiled or scoffed at a vital energetic ffiith in the great
and distinctive truths of revelation, while widely over his native land the spirit
of a frigid indifference to religion prevailed ; when he left it, the current of public
sentiment had begun to set in a contrary direction; and although it took many
years, and the labour of many other hands, to carry that healthful change onward to
maturity, yet 1 believe it is not over-estimating it to say, that it was mainly by Dr.
Chalmers' ministry in Glasgow — by his efforts at this period in the pulpit and
through the press — that the tide of national opinion and sentiment was turned."

Di". Chalmers delivered his farewell sermon on November 9 (1823), and on
this occasion such was the crowding, not only of his affectionate flock, but
admirers from every quarter, that the church, Avhich was built to accommodate
1700 hearers, on this occasion contained twice that number. On the 11th, a
farewell dinner was given to him by o-iO gentlemen; and at the close, when he
rose to retire, all the guests stood up at once to honour his departure. " Gentle-
men," said the doctor, overwhelmed by this last token, and turning repeatedly
to every quarter, " I cannot utter a hundredth part of what I feel — but I will
do better — I will bear it all awa3^" He was gone, and all felt as if the head of
wisdom, and heart of cordial affection and Christian love, and tongue of com-
manding and persuasive eloquence, that hitherto had been the life and soul of
Glasgow, had departed with him. If anything could have consoled him after
such a parting, it must have been the reception that welcomed his arrival in St.
Andrews, where he delivered his introductory lecture seven days after, the signal
that his new career of action had begun.

So closely had Dr. Chalmers adhered to his clerical duties in Glasgow to the
last, that on his arrival in St. Andrews, his whole stock for the commencement
of the course of Moral Philosophy consisted of only a few days' lectures. But
nothing can more gratify an energetic mind that has fully tested its own powers,
than the luxury of such a difficult}'. It is no wonder, therefore, to find him
thus writing in the latter partof the session: "I shall be lecturing for six weeks
yet, and am ver^- nearly from hand-to-mouth with my preparations. I have the
prospect of winning the course, though it will be by no more than the length of
half-a-neck; but I like the employment vastly." Most of these lectures were after-
wards published asthey were written, a sure indication of the deeply-concentrated
power and matchless diligence with which he must have occupied the winter
months. It was no mere student auditory, also, for which he had exclusively to
write during each day the lecture of the morrow; for the benches of the class-
room were crowded by the intellectual from every quarter, who had repaired to
St. Andrews to hear the doctor's eloquence upon a new theme. Even when tl.o

REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 117

session was over, it brought no such holiday season as might have been expected ;
for he was obliged to prepare for tlie great controversy upon tlie plurality ques-
tion, wliich, after having undergone its course in Presbytery and Synod, was
finally to be settled in the General Assemblj'-, the opening of which was now at
hand. The point at issue, upon which the merits of the case now rested, was,
whether in consistency with the laws of the Church, Dr. Macfarlan could hold
conjunctly the office of principal of the university of Glasgow, and minister of
the Inner High church in the same city? On this occasion, Dr. Chalmers and
Dr. Thomson spoke against the connection of offices with their Avonted elo-
quence ; but the case was so completely prejudged and settled, that no earthly
eloquence could have availed, and the question in favour of the double admis-
sion was carried by a majority of twenty-six. In much of the proceedings of
this Assembly Dr. Chalmers took a part, among which was the proposal of
erecting anew Gaelic church in Glasgow. This measure he ably and successfully
advocated, so that it passed by a large majority. Only a fortnight after the
Assembly had closed he was in Glasgow, and more busy there if possible than
ever, having engaged to preach for six consecutive Sabbaths in the chapel which,
at his instigation, had been erected as an auxiliary to the parish church of St.
John's. Here, however, he was not to rest ; for, while thus occupied with his
former flock, he received an urgent invitation to preach at Stockport, for the
benefit of the Sabbath-school established there — a very different school from
those of Scotland for the same purpose, being built at a great expense, and
capable of accommodating 4000 children, lie complied; but on reaching
England he was mortified, and even disgusted to find, that the whole service was
to be one of those half- religious half-theatrical exhibitions, so greatly in vogue in
our own day, in which the one-half of the service seems intended to mock the
other. He was to conduct the usual solemnities of prayer and preaching, and,
so far, the whole affair was to partake of the religious character ; but, in addition
to himself as principal performer, a hundred instrumental and vocal artistes
were engaged for the occasion, who were to rush in at the close of the pulpit
ministrations with all the secularities of a concert or oratorio. The doctor was
indignant, and remonstrated with the managers of the arrangement, but it
was too late. All he could obtain was, that these services should be kept apart
from each other, instead of being blended together, as had been originally in-
tended. Accordingly, he entered the pulpit, conducted the solemn services as
he was wont, and preached to a congregation of 3500 auditors, after which he
retired, and left the managers to their own devices'; and before he had fairly
escaped from the building, a tremendous volley of bassoons, flutes, violins, bass
viols, and serpents, burst upon his ear, and accelerated the speed of his depar-
ture. The collection upon this occasion amounted to £400, — but might it not
be said to have been won too dearly ?

The course of next winter at St. Andrews was commenced under the most
favourable auspices, and more than double the number of students attended the
Moral Philosophy class-room than had been wont in former sessions. Still
true, moreover, to his old intellectual predilections, he also opened a separate
class for Political Economy, which he found to be still more attractive to the
students than the science of Ethics. Nothing throughout could exceed the
enthusiasm of the pupils, and their affection for their amiable and distinguished
preceptor, who was frequently as ready to walk with them and talk Avith
them as to lecture to them. Thus the course of 1824-25 went onward to

118 REV. THOMAS CHALMEIIS, D.D.

its close, aftei" which he again commenced his duties as a member of the
General Assemblj^ and entered Avith ardour into the subject of church
plurality, upon Avhich he spoke sometimes during the course of discussion. It
was during this conflict that a frank generous avowal was made by Dr.
Chalmers that electrified the whole meeting. On the second day of the
debate, a member upon the opposite side quoted from an anonymous pamphlet
the declaration of its author's experience, that " after the satisfactory discharge
of his parish duties, a minister may enjoy five da^^s in the week of uninter-
rupted leisure for the prosecution of any science in which his taste may
dispose him to engage." When this was read, every eye was turned to
Dr. Chalmers; it was the pamphlet he had published twenty years ago, when
the duties of the ministerial office appeared to him in a very different light
tlian they now did. He considered its resurrection at such a period as a
solemn call to humiliation and confession, and from this unpalatable duty he
did not for a moment shrink. Rising in his place, he declared, tliat the pro-
duction was his own. " I now confess myself," he added, " to have been
guilty of a heinous crime, and I now stand a repentant culpiit before the bar
of this venerable assembly." After stating the time and the occasion in which
it originated, he went on in the following words: — " I was at that time, Sir,
more devoted to mathematics than to the literature of my profession; and,
feeling grieved and indignant at what I conceived an undue reflection on the
abilities and education of our clergy, I came forward with that pamphlet, to
rescue them from what I deemed an unmerited reproach, by maintaining that
a devoted and exclusive attention to the study of mathematics was not dis-
sonant to the proper habits of a clergyman. Alas ! Sir, so I tliought in my
ignorance and pride. I have now no reserve in saying, tliat the sentiment was
wrong, and that, in the utterance of it, I penned what was most outrageously
wrong. Strangely blinded that I Avas ! What, Sir, is the object of mathemati-
cal science? Magnitude and the proportions of magnitude. But then. Sir, I
had forgotten two inagnitudts — I thought not of the littleness of time — I
recklessly thought not of the greatness of eternity."

Hitherto the course of Dr. Chalmers at St. Andrews had been comfortable
and tranquil ; but this state was to continue no longer. It would have been
strange, indeed, if one Avho so exclusively^ enjoyed the popularity of the town
and its colleges, should have been permitted to enjoy it without annoj'-ance.
In the first instance, too, his grievances arose from that very evil of churcli
plurality of which he had at first been the tolerant advocate, and afterwards
the uncompromising antagonist. A vacancy having occurred in the city parisli
of St. Leonards, the charge was bestowed, not upon a free unencumbered man,
but upon one of the professors, whose college labours were enough for all his
time and talent ; and as he was unacceptable as a preacher, many of the
students, among whom an unwonted earnestness had of late been awakened
upon the important subject of religion, were desirous of enjoying a more efficient
ministry. But an old law of the college made it imperative that they should
give their Sabbath attendance at the church of St. Leonards ; and when they
petitioned for liberty to select their own place for worship and religious
instruction, their application was refused, although it was backed by that of
their parents. It was natural that Dr. Chalmers should become their advocate ;
and almost equally natural that in requital he should be visited by the
collective wrath of his brethren of the Scnatiis. They had decerned that the

RLV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D, 119

request of the students was unieasonaLIe and mutinous; and turning upon the
doctor himself, they represented liini as one given up to nevr-fangled ideas of
Christian liberty', and hostile to the interests of the Established Church. A
still more vexatious subject of discussion arose from the appropriation of the
college funds, the surplus of which, instead of being laid out to repair the
dilapidated buildings, as had been intended, was annualh'^ divided among the
professors after the current expenses of the classes had been defrayed. Dr.
Chalmers thought this proceeding not only an illegal stretch of authority on
the part of the professors, but also a perilous temptation ; and on finding that
they would not share in his scruples, he was obliged to adopt the only conscien-
tious step that remained — he refused his share of the spoil during the five years
of his continuance at St. Andrews. Thus the case continued until 1827, when
tlie ro^'al commission that had been appointed for the examination of the
Scottish universities arrived at St. Andrews, and commenced their searching
inquest. Dr. Chalmers, who hoped on this occasion that the evils of which
he complained would be redressed, underwent in his turn a long course of
examination, in Avhicli he fearlessly laid open the whole subject, and proposed
the obvious remedy. But in this complaint he stood alone ; the commissioners
listened to his suggestions, and left the case as they found it. Another depart-
ment of college reform, which had for some time been the object of his anxious
solicitude, was passed over in the same manner. It concerned the necessary
training of the pupils previous to their commencement of a college education.
At our Scottish universities the students were admitted at a mere school-b®y
age, when they knew scarcely any Latin, and not a word of Greek ; and thus
the classical education of our colleges was such as would have been fitter for a
mere whipping- school, in which these languages had to be commenced ah
initio, than seats of learning in which such attainments were to be matured
and perfected. To rectify this gross defect, the proposal of Dr. Chalmers
suggested the erection of gymnasia attached to the colleges, where these youths
should undergo a previous complete training in the mere mechanical parts of
classical learning, and thus be fitted, ou their entrance into college, for the
highest departments of Greek and Roman scholarship. But here, also, his
appeals were ineffectual ; and at the present day, and in the country of
Buchanan and Melville, the university classes of Latin and Greek admit such
pupils, and exhibit such defects, as would excite the contempt of an Eton or
Westminster school-boy.

It was well for Dr. Chalmers that amidst all this hostility and disappoint-
ment he had formed for himself a satisfactory source of consolation. At his
arrival in St. Andrews, and even amidst the toil of preparation for the duties
of his new office, he had longed for the relief that would be afforded by the
communication of religious instruction ; for in becoming a professor of science,
he had not ceased to be a minister of the gospel. As soon, therefore, as the
bustlo of the first session was ended, he threw himself with alacrity into the
lowly office of a Sabbath- school teacher. He went to work also in his own me-
thodical fashion, by selecting a district of the town to which his labours were
to be confined, visiting its families one by one, and inviting the children to join
the class which he was about to form for meeting at his own house on the Sab-
bath evenings. And there, in the midst of these poor children, sat one of the
most profound and eloquent of men ; one at whose feet the great, the wise, and
the accomplished had been proud to sit; while the striking picture is heightened

120 I^EV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

by the fact, that even for these humble prelections and examinations, his ques-
tions were written out, and his explanations prepared, as if he had been to con-
front the General Assembl}^, or the British Senate. In the hands of a talented
artist would not such a subject furnish a true Cliristian counterpart to that of
jMarius sitting among the ruins of Carthage? At tlie third session this duty
was exchanged for one equally congenial, and still more important, arising from
the request of some of the parents of his college pupils, that he would take
cliarge of the religious education of their sons, by receiving them into his house
on the evenings of the Sabbath. With a desire so closely connected with his
professional office through the week he gladly complied, after having intrusted
his Sabbath-school children to careful teachers, who laboured under his direc-
tion. These student meetings, at first, were assembled around his fireside, in
the character of a little family circle, and as such he wished it to continue ; but
so greatly was the privilege valued, and so numerous were the applications for
admission, that the circle gradually expanded into a class, which his ample
drawing-room could scarcely contain. These examples were not long in producing
their proper fruits. The students of St. Andrews, animated by such a pattern,
bestirred themselves in the division of the town into districts, and the formation
of Sabbath- schools; and in the course of their explorations for the purpose,
they discovered, even in that ancient seat of learning and city of colleges, an
amount of ignorance and religious indifference such as they had never suspected
to be lying around them till now. Another and an equally natural direction
into which the impulse was turned, was that of missionary exertion; and on
Dr. Chalmers having accepted the ofHce of president of a missionary' society,
the students caught new ardour from the addresses which he delivered, and the
reports he read to them at the meetings. The consequence was, that a mis-
sionary society was formed for the students themselves, in which a third of
those belonging to the united colleges were speedily enrolled. It was a wonder-
ful change in St. Andrews, so long the very Lethe of religious indifference and
unconcern, and among its pupils, so famed among the other colleges of Scotland
for riot, recklessness, and dissipation. And the result showed that this was no
fever-fit of passing emotion, but a permanent and substantial reality. For many
of those students who most distinguished themselves by their zeal for missions,
were also distinguished as diligent talented scholars, and attained the highest
honours of the university. Not a few of them now occupy our pulpits, and are
among the most noted in the church for zeal, eloquence, and ministerial dili-
gence and fidelity. And more than all, several of tiiem were already in train-
ing for that high missionary office whose claims they so earnestly advocated,
and are now to be found labouring in the good work in the four quarters of the
world. Speaking of Dr. Chalmers at this period, one of the most accomplished
of his pupils, and now the most distinguished of our missionaries, thus writes :
— "Perhaps the most noticeable peculiarity connected with the whole of this
transformative process, was the indirect, rather than the direct, mode in which
the effectuating influence was exerted. It did not result so much from any
direct and formal exhortation on the part of Dr. Chalmers, as from the general
awakening and suggestive power of his lectures, the naked force of his own per-
sonal piety, and the spreading contagiousness of his own personal example. He
carried about v.'ith liim a better than talismanic virtue, by which all who came
in contact with him were almost unconsciously influenced, moulded, and im-
pelled to imitate. He did not formally assemble his students, and in so many'

EEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 121

set terms formally exhort them to constitute themselves into missionar}' societies,
open Pabbath-schools, commence prayer-meetings, and sucli like. No; in the
course of his lectures, he communicated something of his own life and warmth,
and expounded principles of which olijectslike the preceding were some of the
natural exponents and developments. He then faithfully exemplified the prin-
ciples propounded in his own special actings and general conduct. lie was
known to be a man of prayer; he was acknowledged to be a man of active bs-
nevolence. He was observed to be going about from house to house, exhorting
adults on the concerns of their salvation, and devoting his energies to the hum-
ble task of gathering around liiur a Sabbath-school. He was seen to be the sole
reviver of an all but defunct missionary society. All these, and other such like
traits of character and conduct, being carefully noted, how could they who in-
tensely admired, revered, and loved the man, do less than endeavour, at how-
ever great a distance, to tread in his footsteps, and imitate so noble a pattern?"
Such was the tenor of his course in St. Andrews, until he was about to be
transferred into another and more important field. The first effort made for
this removal was an offer on the part of government of the charge of the pai'ish
of St. Cuthbert's, Edinburgh, which had now became vacant by the death of
the Rev. Sir Henry Moncrieff. To succeed such a man, and hold such a cleri-
cal appointment, which was one of the best in Scotland, were no ordinary
temptations; but Dr. Chalmers was now fully persuaded that the highest, most
sacred, and most efficient office in the Church, consisted in the training of a
learned and pious ministry, and therefore he refused the offer, notwithstanding
tlie very inferior emoluments of his present charge, and the annoj'ances with
which it was surrounded. Another vacancy shortly afterwards occurred that
was more in coincidence with his principles. This was the divinity chair of
the university of Edinburgh, that had become vacant by the resignation of Dr.
Ritchie, and to this charge he was unanimously elected by the magistrates
and town council of Edinburgh, on the 31st October, 1827. The appointment
on this occasion was cordially accepted, for it transferred him from tlie limited
sphere of a county town to the capital ; and from a professorship of ethics, the
mere handmaid of theology, to that of theology itself. As he had not to com-
mence his duties until the beginning of the next year's session, he had thus a
considerable interval for preparation, which he employed to the uttermost. The
subjects of lecturing, too, which comprised Natural Theology and the Evidences
of Christianity, had for years been his favourite study. His class-room,
as soon as the course commenced, was inundated, not merely with regular stu-
dents, but with clergymen of every church, and gentlemen of every literary or
scientific profession, all eager to hear systematic theology propounded by such
a teacher. All this was well ; but when a similar ton-ent attempted to burst
into his domestic retirement, and sweep away his opportunities of preparation,
he was obliged to repel it with unwonted bluntness. " I have now," he said,
" a written paper in my lobb}", shown by my servant to all and sundry who are
making mere calls of attention, which is just telling them, in a civil way, to go
about their business. If anything will check intrusion this at length must."
During this session, also. Dr. Chalmers was not only fully occupied with his
class, but also with the great question of Catholic emancipation, which was
now on the eve of a final decision. A public meeting was held in Edinburgh,
on the 14th of IMarch, to petition in favour of the measure; and it was there
that he advocated the bill in favour of emancipation, in one of the most elo-

V. Q

122 r>EV. THOMAS CHALMERS, Ti.D.

quent speeches he had ever uttered. The effect was tremendous, and at its
close the -whole assembly started to their feet, waved their hats, and rent the
air with deafening shouts of applause for several minutes. Even the masters
and judges of eloquence Avho were present were similarly moved, and Lord
Jeffrey declared it as his opinion, that never had eloquence produced a greater
effect upon a popular assembly, and that he could not believe more had ever
been done by the oratory of Demosthenes, Cicero, Burke, or Sheridan.

After the college session had ended. Dr. Chalmers was not allowed to retire
into his beloved seclusion. Indeed, his opinions were now of such weight with
the public mind, and his services so valuable, that he was considered as a pub-
lic property, and used accordingly. It was for this cause that our statesmen
vv'ho advocated Catholic emancipation were so earnest that he should give full
publicity to his sentiments on the subject. When this duty was discharged,
another awaited him: it was to repair to London, and unfold his views on
pauperism before a committee of the House of Commons, with reference to the
proposal of introducing the English system of poor-laws into Ireland. During
this visit to London, he had the honour of being appointed, without any solici-
tation on his part, one of the chaplains of his Majesty for Scotland. On return-
ing home another visit to London was necessary, as one of the members of a
deputation sent from the Church of Scotland to congratulate William IV. on his
accession to the throne. It is seldom that our Scottish presbyters are to be
found in kings" palaces, so that the ordeal of a royal presentation is generally
sufficient to puzzle their wisest. Thus felt Dr. Chalmers upon the occasion ;
and in the amusing letters which he wrote home to his children, he describes
with full glee the difficulty he experienced from his cocked hat, and the but-
tons of his court dress. The questions put to him at this presentation were of
solemn import, as issuing from kingly lips : " Do you reside constantly in
Edinburgh?" " How long do you remain in town?" He returned to the
labours of his class room, and the preparation of his elaborate work on "Political
Economy," which had employed his thoughts for years, and was' published
at the beginning of 1832. This care of authorship in behalf of principles which
he knew to be generally unpalatable, was further aggravated by the passing of
the Reform Bill, to which he was decidedly hostile. After his work on " Po-
litical Economy," which fared as he had foreseen, being roughly handled by the
principal critics of the day, against whose favourite doctrines it militated, he
published his well-known Bridgewater Treatise, "On the Adaptation of Ex-
ternal Nature to the Moral and Intellectual Constitution of Man." At the same
period the cholera, Avhich in its tremendous but erratic march had arrived in
the islandj and commenced its havoc in Newcastle and Sunderland, proceeded
northward, and entered like a destroying angel within the gates of Edinburgh,
which it filled with confusion and dismay. As its ravages went onward, the
people became so maddened as to raise riots round the cholera hospitals, and
treat the physicians, who attended on the patients at the risk of their own
lives, with insult and violence. This exhibition was so afflictive to Dr. Chal-
mers, that he expressed his feelings upon the subject in the most impressive
manner that a human being can possibly adopt — this was in public prayer,
upon the national fast in St. George's church, while he was earnestly beseech-
ing that the plague might be stayed, and the people spared, "We pra^^,
O Lord, in a more especial manner," he thus supplicated, " for those patriotic
men whose duty calls them to a personal encounter with this calamity, and

EEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 123

who, braving all the hazards of infection, may be said to stand between the
iiving and the dead. Save them from the attacks of disease; save them from
the obloquies of misconception and prejudice; and may they have the blessings
and acknowledgments of a grateful community to encourage them in their
labours." On the same evening, a lord of session requested that this portion
of the prayer should be committed to writing, and made more public, in the
hope of arresting that insane popular odium whicli had risen against the medical
board. The prayer was soon printed, and circulated through the city.

In the year 1832, Dr. Chalmers was raised to the highest honour which the
Church of Scotland can bestow, by being appointed moderator of the General
Assembly. In this office he had the courage to oppose, and the good fortune
to remove, an abuse that had grown upon the church until it had become a
confirmed practice. It was now the use and wont of every commissioner to
give public dinners, not only upon the week-days, but the Sabbaths of the
Assembly's sitting, while the moderator sanctioned this practice by giving
public breakfasts on the same day. In the eyes of the doctor this was a
desecration of the sacred day, and he stated his feelings to Lord Belhaven, the
commissioner, on the subject. The appeal was so effectual that the practice
was discontinued, and has never since been resumed. At this Assembly, also,
a fearful note was sounded, predictive of a coming contest. It was upon the
obnoxious subject of patronage, against which the popular voice of Scotland
had protested so long and loudly, but in vain. Overtures from eight Presby-
teries and three Synods were sent up to this Assembl^^ stating, " That whereas
the practice of church courts for many years had reduced the call to a mere
formality; and whereas this practice has a direct tendency to alienate the
affections of the people of Scotland from the Established Church ; it is over-
tured, that such measures as may be deemed necessary be adopted, in order to
restore the call to its constitutional efficiency." An animated debate was the
consequence, and at last the motion of Principal Macfarlan, " that the Assembly
judge it unnecessary and inexpedient to adopt the measures recommended in
the overtures now before them," was carried by a majority of forty-two. From
the office which he held. Dr. Chalmers could only be a presiding onlooker of the
debate; but in the Assembly of next year, when the subject was resumed, he
had an open arena before him, which he was not slow to occupy. On this
occasion, the eleven overtures of the preceding year had swelled into forty-
five, a growth that indicated the public feeling with unmistakable significance.
The two principal speakers in the discussion that followed were Dr. Chalmers
and Dr. Cook, and each tendered his motion before the Assembly. That of
Dr. Chalmers was to the effect, that efficiency sliould be given to the call, by
declaring the dissent of a majority of the male heads of families in a jjarish,
with or without the assignment of reasons, should be sufficient to set aside the
presentee, unless these reasons were founded in malicious combination, or mani-
festly incorrect as to his ministerial gifts and qualifications. The counter-
motion of Dr. Cook was, that while it is competent for the heads of families to
give in to the Presbytery objections of whatever nature against the presentee,
the Presbytery shall consider these objections, and if they find them unfounded,
shall proceed to the settlement. This was carried only by a majority of twelve,
and mainly, also, by the strength of the eldership, as a majority of twenty
ministers was in fiwour of the motion of Dr. Chalmers. It was easy to
see, however, in what direction the tide had set, and to what length and

124 REV. THOMAS CILVLMERS, D.D.

amount it would prevail. At the next Assembly' a full trial Avas to be made
that should be conclusive upon the point at issue. Dr. Chalmers on this
occasion was not a member, but his motion of the preceding year was again
brought before the Assembly by Lord MoncrieflF, in the form of an " Overture
and Interim Act on Calls," and expressed as follows : — " The General Assembly
declare, that it is a fundamental law of the Church, that no pastor shall be
intruded into any congregation contrary to the will of the people ; and, in order
that the principle may be carried into full effect, the General Assembly, with
the consent of a majority of the Presbyteries of this church, do declare, enact,
and ordain, that it shall be an instruction to Presbyteries that if, at the
moderating in a call to a vacant pastoral charge, the major part of the male
heads of familes, members of the vacant congregation, and in full communion
with the church, shall disapprove of the person in whose favour the call is
proposed to be moderated in, such disapproval shall be deemed sufficient ground
for tlie Presbytery rejecting such person, and that he shall be rejected accord-
ingly, and due notice thereof forthwith given to all concerned ; but that if the
major part of the said heads of families shall not disapprove of sucli person to
be their pastor, the Presbytery shall proceed with the settlement according to
the rules of the church : And farther declare, that no person shall be held to
be entitled to disapprove as aforesaid, who shall refuse, if required, solemnly
to declare, in presence of the Presbytery, that he is actuated by no factious or
malicious motive, but solely by a conscientious regard to the spiritual interests
of himself or the congregation." Such was the well-known measure called
the Veto, which, being carried by a majority of forty-six, became part of the
law of the Church of Scotland. Considering the previous domination of
patronage, it was regarded with much complacency, as a valuable boon to
public feeling, and a great step in advance towards a thorough reformation in
the church. But, unfortunatel}', it was only a compromise with an evil that
should have been utterly removed ; a mere religious half-measure, that in the
end was eertain to dwindle into a nullity ; and Dr. Chalmers lived long enough
to confess its insufficiency and witness its downfall.

In the case of those honoured individuals who have "greatness thrust upon
them," the imposition generally finds them at a season not only when they are
least expectant of such distinctions, but apparently the furthest removed from
all chance of obtaining them. Such all along had been the case with Chalmers.
Fame had found him in the obscure parish of Kilmany, and there proclaimed
him one of the foremost of pulpit orators. It had followed him into the murky
Avynds and narrow closes of the Trongate and Saltmarket of Glasgow ; and
there, while he was employed in devising means for the amelioration of poverty
through parochial agency, it had lauded him in the senate and among states-
men as an able financier and political economist. Instead of seeking, he had
been sought, by that high reputation which seems to have pursued him only
the more intently by how much he endeavoured to escape it. And now, after
he had lieen so earnestly employed in endeavouring to restore the old Scottish
ecclesiastical regime and Puritan spirit of the seventeentli century — so loathed
by the learned, the fashionable, and the free-thinking of the nineteenth — new
honours, and these from the most unlikely sources, were showered upon him
in full profusion. In 1834, he was elected a fellow of the Royal Society of
Edinburgh, and in the year following a vice-president. In the beginning of
1834, hewaselected a corresponding member of the Royal Institute of France; and

EEV, THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 125

in the year 1835, ■while upon a visit to Oxford for the recovery of his healtli,
impaired by the fatigues he had undergone in London in tlie discharge of his
public duties, the university of Oxford in full theatre invested him with the
degree of Doctor of Laws. The academy of Voltaire, and the university of
Laud, combining to do honour to a modern Scottish Covenanter!— never before
liad such extremes met ! Such a triumph, however, needed a slave behind the
chariot, and such a remembrancer was not wanting to the occasion. During his
stay in London, he had been negotiating for the establishment of a permanent
government salary to the chair of Theology in the university of Edinburgh, for
at his entrance in 1828, the revenues of its professorship, in consequence of the
abolition of pluralities, amounted to not more than £196 per annum. It was
impossible, upon such a pittance, to maintain the proper dignity of the office, and
rear a numerous family; and, although the town council endeavoured to sup-
plement the defect by the establishment of fees to be paid by the students, this
remedy was found so scanty and precarious, that Dr. Chalmers could not cal-
culate upon more than £300 a-year, while tlie necessary expenditure of such an
office could not be comprised within £800. But Government at the time was
labouring under one of those periodical fits of economy in which it generally
looks to the pennies, in the belief that the pounds can take care of themselves,
and therefore the earnest appeals of Dr. Chalmers upon the importance of such
a professorship, and the necessity of endowing it, were inetfectual. Little
salaries were to be cut down, and small applicants withheld, to convince the
sceptical public that its funds were managed with strict economy. To his office
of professor, indeed, that of one of the Scottish royal chaplaincies had been added ;
but this was little more than an honorary title, as its salary was only £50 per
annum. Thus, at the very height of his fame. Dr. Chalmers was obliged to
bethink himself of such humble subjects as weekly household bills, and the
ways and means of meeting them, and with the heavy pressure of duties that
had gathered upon hira to take refuge in the resources of authorship. A new
and cheap edition of iiis works, in quarterly volumes, was therefore commenced
in 1830. It was no mere republication of old matter, however, which he thus
presented to the public, and this he was anxious should be generally understood.
" It so happens," he thus writes to the Rev. Mr. Cunningham of Harrow,
"■ that the great majority of my five first volumes will be altogether new; and
that of the two first already published, and which finishes my views on Natural
Theology, the " Bridgewater Treatise," is merely a fragment of the whole. Now^,
my request is, that you will draw the attention of any of the London reviewers
to the new matter of my works." To such necessities the most distinguished
man iu Scotland, and the holder of its most important professorship, was reduced,
because our Government would not endow his office with a modicum of that libe-
rality which it extended to a sinecure forest-ranger, or evenacaptain of Beefeaters.
These, howevef, were not the greatest of Dr. Chalmers' difficulties and cares.
The important subject of church extension, that most clamant of our country's
wants, annihilated all those that were exclusively personal, and after years
of earnest advocacy, a bright prospect began to dawn that this want would be
fully satisfied. The King's speech in 1835 recommended the measure; the
parliamentary leaders of the Conservative party were earnest in supporting it;
while the Earl of Aberdeen in the House of Lords, and Sir Robert Peel in that
of the Commons, were the most urgent advocates for the extension of the Ciuirch
in Scotland. But very different was the mood of the Whig ministr}-, and the

123 REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

pi-emier, Lord Melbourne, who succeeded, and all that could be obtained from
them was a commission of inquiry. It was the vague " I'll see to it! " which
in common life promises nothing, and usually accomplishes as little. Thus at
least felt Dr. Chalmers, notwithstanding the assurances of Lord John Russell
that the commissioners should be obliged to report progress from time to time,
so that the House might apply the remedy to each evil successively as it was
detected. It was no vague fear; for although the first report of the commis-
sioners was to be returned in six months, thrice that period elapsed before the
duty was implemented. This report, however, established a momentous ftict;
it was, that nearly one-third of the whole population of Edinburgh, to which
their eighteen months' inquiry had been exclusively confined, were living in
utter neglect of religious ordinances. To atone for such delay, as well as to
remedy such an evil, it was now full time for the Parliament to be up and doing.
But I'arliament thought it was better to wait— to wait until they got farther
intelligence. This intelligence at last came in two subsequent reports, by which
it appeared that the deficiency of church accommodation and church attendance
was still worse in Glasgow than in Edinburgh. And now, at least, was the
time for action after four years of protracted inquiry; but the remedy which
Parliament proposed consisted of little more than a few unmeaning words.
The Highlands and the country parishes were to be aided from sources that
were not available for the purpose, while the large towns were to be left in
their former condition. In short, the Church of Scotland was to wait, and
wait, and still to wait, while everything was to be expected, but nothing
definite insured. A deputation from the Church Extension Committee was
unavoidable under such circumstances of sickening procrastination and heartless
disappointment; but the government that had anticipated such an advent, speci-
fied that Dr. Chalmers should not be one of the deputies. It was not convenient
that the rulers of the hour should encounter the master-spirit of the age. Ac-
cordingly, the deputation of the Church of Scotland, mimes Dr. Chalmers, waited
upon Lord Melbourne, and represented what a dereliction the Government had
committed in abandoning the religious provision of the large towns of Scotland,
by which the principle of religious establishment itself was virtually abandoned.
But they talked to a statesman whose only line of policy was to remember nothing
about the past, and fear nothing for the future. Britain would last during his
own day at least, and let all be^'ond encounter the life-and-death scramble as it
best could. When he was told, therefore, that this abandonment of the Scottish
cities was an abandonment of church establishment, and would inflict a fatal
wound upon the Ciiurch of Scotland, this free-and-easy premier replied to the
members of the deputation : " That, gentlemen, is your inference : j'-ou may
not be the better for our plan ; but, hang it! you surely cannot be worse ; " and
with this elegant sentence they were bowed off from the ministerial audience.
It was well, however, that Dr. Chalmers, and those whom he influenced, had
not entirely leaned, in such a vital question, upon the reed of court favour and
government support. He had already learned, although with some reluctance,
that most necessary scriptural caveat for a minister of the Church of Scotland,
" Put not your trust in princes," so that from the commencement of this treaty
between the Church and the State, he had turned his attention to the public at
large as the source from which his expectations were to be realized. He there-
fore obtained the sanction of the General Assembly, in 1836, to form a sub-
committee on church extension, for the purpose of organizing a plan of

EEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 127

meetings over the whole country for the erection of new churches. It was tlius
applying to the fountain-head, let the conduits be closed as they might, and the
result more than answered his expectations. In the year 1838, he was enabled
to state to the General Assembly, that these two years of organized labour, com-
bined with the two years of desultory effort that had preceded — four years in
all — had produced nearly £200,000, out of which nearly 200 churches had been
erected. Well might he call this, in announcing the fact, "an amount and con-
tinuance of pecuniary support altogether without a precedent in the history of
Christian beneficence in this part of the British empire." To this he added a
hope — but how differently fulfilled from the way he expected ! " At the
glorious era of the Church's reformation," he said, " it was the unwearied sup-
port of the people which, under God, finally brought her efforts to a triumphant
issue. In this era of her extension — an era as broadl}^ marked and as emphati-
cally presented to the notice of the ecclesiastical historian as any which the
Church is wont to consider as instances of signal revival and divine interposition —
the support of the people will not be wanting, but by their devoted exertions, and
willing sacrifices, and ardent prayers, they will testify how much they love the
house where their fathers worshipped ; how much they reverence their Saviour's
command, that the very poorest of their brethren shall have the gospel preached
to them."

While the indifference of Government upon the subject of church extension
was thus felt in Scotland, a calamity of a different character was equally
impending over the churches both of Scotland and England — a calamity that
threatened nothing less than to disestablish them, and throw them upon the
voluntary support of the public at large. Such was a part of the effects of the
Reform Bill. It brought forward the Dissenters into place and power, and gave
tliem a vantage ground for their hostility to all ecelesiastical establishments;
and so well did they use this opportunity, that the separation of Church and
State promised to be an event of no distant occurrence. Even Wellington him-
self, whose practised eye saw the gathering for the campaign, and whose stout
heart was not apt to be alarmed at bugbears, thus expressed his sentiments on
the occasion : " People talk of the war in Spain, and the Canada question, but
all that is of little moment. The real question is, Church or no Church ; and
the majority of the House of Commons — a small majority, it is true, but still a
majority — arc practically against it." This majorit3^, too, had alreadj^ com-
menced its operations with the Church of Ireland, the number of whose bishops
was reduced, and a large amount of whose endowments it was proposed to
alienate to other purposes than the support of religion. Thus was that war
begun which has continued from year to year, growing at each step in violence
and pertinacity, and threatening the final eversion of the two religious estab-
lishments of Great Britain. The friends of the Establishment principle were
equally alert in its defence; and among other institutions, a Christian Influence
Society was formed, to vindicate the necessity and duty of State support to the
national religion as embodied in the church of the majority of the people. It
occurred to this society that their cause could be best supported by popular
appeal on tlie part of a bold, zealous, eloquent advocate — one who had already?
procured the right to speak upon such a subject, and to whom all might gladly
and confidently listen. And where could they find such an advocate? All
were at one in the answer, and Dr. Chalmers was in consequence requested to.
give a course of public lectures in London upon the subject of Church Estab-

lishments, to which he assented. Thus mysteriously was he led by a way
wliich he knew not to a termination which he had not anticipated, lie was to
raise his eloquent voice for the last time in behalf of a cause which he was soon
after to leave for ever — ^and to leave only because a higiier, holier, and more
imperative duty commanded his departure.

This visit of Dr. Chalmers to London was made in the spring of IO08. lie
took with him a course of lectures on which he had bestowed the utmost pains ;
and the first, which he delivered on the 25th of April, was attended by the most
distinguislied in rank and talent, who admired the lecturer, as well as sj'mpa-
tliized in his subject. The other discourses followed successively, and seldom
has great London been stirred frona its mighty depths as upon these occasions.
Peers, prelates, statesmen, literati, the powerful, the noble, the rich, the learned,
all hurried pell-mell into the passages, or were crowded in one living heap in
tiie ample hall; and all eyes were turned upon the homely-looking elderly
man who sat at the head, before a little table, at times looking as if buried in a
dream, and at others, lifting up his eyes at the gathering and advancing tide,
composed of England's noblest and best, as if he wondered what this unwonted
stir could mean. How had such a man collected such a concourse? That was
soon shown, when, after havuig uttered a few sentences, with a pronunciation
which even his own countrymen deemed uncouth, he warmed with his subject,
until his thoughts seemed to be clothed with thunder, and starting to his feet,
the whole assembly rose with him as one man, passed into all his feelings, and
moved with his every impulse, as if for the time they had implicitly resigned
their identity into his hands, and were content to be but parts of that wondrous
individual in whose utterance they were so absorbed and swallowed up. " The
concluding lecture," sa^'s one writer, " was graced by the presence of nine pre-
lates of the Church of England. The tide that had been rising and swelling
eacli succeeding day, now burst all bounds. Carried away by the impassioned
utterance of the speaker, long ere the close of some of his finest passages was
reached, the voice of the lecturer was drowned in the applause, the audience
rising from their seats, waving their hats above their heads, and breaking out
into tumultuous approbation." " Nothing was more striking, however," writes
another, "amidst all this excitement, than thechild-like humility of the great man
himself. All the flattery seemed to produce no effect whatever on him ; his mind
was entirely absorbed in his great object; and the same kind, playful, and truly
Christian spirit, that so endeared him to us all, was everywhere apparent in his
conduct. ... I had heard Dr. Chalmers on many great occasions, but
probably his London lectures afforded the most remarkable illustrations of his
extraordinary power, and must be ranked amongst the most signal triumphs of
oratory in any age.''

Having thus delivered such a solemn and public testimony in behalf of
Church Establishments, Dr. Chalmers now resolved to visit France, a duty
which he conceived he owed to the country, as he had been elected a member of
its far-famed Royal Institute. He accordingly went from England to Paris in
the earlier part of June, 1838, accompanied by his wife and two daughters.
From the journal which he kept on the occasion, much interesting information
may be gleaned of his views on the state of France and French society, while
throughout, it is evident that he canied with him what our English tourists too
seldom transport into that country — the willingness to recognize and readiness
to acknowledge whatever superiority it possesses over our own. He thus

REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 120

found that Paris was sometliing better than a city of profligates, and France
than a land of infidels. In that gay metropolis his exclamation is, " How much
more still and leisurely everything moves here than in London! .... It
is more a city of loungers; and life moves on at a more rational pace." On
another occasion he declared Paris " better than London, in not being a place of
extreme and high-pressnre work in all the departments of industry. IMore
favourable to intellect, to man in his loftier capacities, to all the better and
higher purposes of our nature.'' It was not wonderful, therefore, that with
such frankness and warmth of heart he was soon at one with the choicest of
that literary and intellectual society with which the city at all times abounds,
and delighted with its buildings, its public walks, and museums of science and
art. Dr. Chalmers made no pretension to taste in the fine arts, and its critical
phraseology he detested as cant and jargon ; but it was well knov.-n by his friends
that he had a love of fine statues and jjictures, and an innate natural percep-
tion of their beauties, that might well have put those who prate learnedly about
RafFaele and Titian to the blush. This will at once be apparent in his notices
of the Louvre, where his remarks are full of life and truthfulness: "Struck
with the picture of one of Bonaparte's battles in his retreat from Moscow. Tiie
expression of Napoleon very striking — as if solemnized by the greatness of the
coming disaster, yet with an air of full intelligence, and serenity, and majestv,
and a deep mournful expression withal. The long gallery of the Louvre superb;
impressed at once with the superiority of its pictures. Very much interested
in the Flemish pictures, of which there were some very admirable ones by David
Teniers. I am fond of Rembrandt's portraits; and was much pleased in recog-
nizing the characteristics of Rubens, Poussin, and Claude Lorrain. I also
remarked that in most of the Italian schools, with the exception of the Vene-
tian, there was a total want of shading off; j'et the separate figures, though not
harmonized with the back-ground, very striking in themselves. The statuary
of painting perhaps expresses the style of the Roman and other such schools.
There is a quadrangle recently attached to the east end of the gallery, filled with
tlie models of towns, ships, and machinery; the towns very instructive. But
the most interesting part of this department is the Spanish pictures, in all of
wliich the strong emotions are most powerfully expressed. There is quite a
stamp of national peculiarity in these works. The walls which contain them
seem all alive with the passions and thoughts of living men." Thus far Dr.
Chalmers in a new character, as a critic in painting — not of the schools, how-
ever, but of nature's own teaching. After a short residence of three weeks in
Paris, during which he noticed everything with a benevolent and observant
eye, and read before the Institute a lecture of initiation, having for its title, the
" Distinction, both in Principle and Effect, between a Legal Charity for the
Relief of Indigence, and a Legal Charity for the Relief of Disease," Dr.
Chalmers set off on a short tour through some of the inland provinces, which
he was induced to make by the persuasion of his English friends. On finishing
it, he characterized it as a most interesting journey, in which his hopes for the
futurity of France had been materially improved. He then returned to Edin-
burgh, where sterner events awaited his arrival.

The first task of Di-. Chalmers, on returning liome, was the augmentation of
the Church Extension Fund. Ko hope was now to be derived from Govern-
ment grants, and therefore, while old age was stealing upon him, and the weari-
ness of a life of toil demanding cessation and repose, he felt as if the struggle

V. XI

130 KEY. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

liad commenced ano^v, and must be encountered over again. The Extension
Scheme v.-as his favourite enterprise, in which all his energies for years had been
embarked ; and could he leave it now in its hour of need, more especially after such
a hopeful commencement? He therefore began an arduous tour for the purpose
on the 18Lh of August, 1839. He commenced with the south-w^estern districts
of Scotland, in the course of which he visited and addressed ten presbyteries
successively. And, be it observed, too, that this prince of orators had a difficulty
ia his task to encounter which only an orator can fully appreciate. Hitherto
his addresses to public meetings had been carefully studied and ccmposed, so
that to extemporaneous haranguing on such occr.sions he had been an utter
stranger. But now tliat he must move rapidly from place to place, and
adapt himself to every kind of meeting, and be ready for every sudden emer-
gency of opposition or cavil, he felt that the aids of the study must be aban-
doned— that he must be ready on every point, and at every moment — that, in
short, all his former habits of oratory must be abandoned, and a new power
acquired, and that too, at the age of sixty, when old habits are confirmed, and
tlie mind has lost its flexibility. But even this difficulty he met and sur-
mounted; his ardour in the work beat down every obstacle, and bore him
irresistibly onward. " It is true," he said, '" that it were better if we lived in
times when a calm and sustained argumentation from the press would have
carried tlie influential minds of the community; but, as it is, one must accom-
modate his doings to the circumstances of the age." After the south-western
districts had been visited, he made another tour, in which he visited Dundee,
Perth, Stirling, and Dunfermline ; and a third, that comprised the towns of
Brechin, Montrose, Arbroath, and Aberdeen. A fourtli, which he called his
great northern tour, led him through a considerable part of the Highlands,
where he addressed many meetings, and endeavoured everywhere to stir up the
people to a due sense of the importance of religious ordinances. But it is
melancholy to find that labours so great ended, upon tho whole, in disappoint-
ment. At the commencement Dr. Chalmers had confidently expected to raise
£100,000 for tlie erection of a hundred new churches, and in this expectation
he was full}'- justified by the success of his previous efforts. But £40,000 was
the utmost that was realized by all this extraordinary toil and travel. Still,
however, much had been done during his seven years of labour in the cause of
church extension; for in 18il, when he demitted his office as convener of the
committee, 220 churches, at a cost of more than £o00,000, had been added to the
Establishment. He had thus made an extensive trial of Voluntaryism, and
obtained full experience of its capabilities and defects, of which the following
was his recorded opinion : — " While he rejoices in the experimental confirma-
tion wdiicli the history of these few years has afforded him of the resources and
the capabilities of the Voluntary system, to which, as hitherto unfostered by the
paternal care of Government, the scheme of church extension is indebted for all
its progress, it still remains his unshaken conviction of that system notwith-
standing, that it should only be resorted to as a supplement, and never but in
times when the powers of infidelity and intolerance are linked together in hostile
combination against the sacred prerogatives of the church, should it once be
thought of as a substitute for a national establishment of Christianity. In days
OL darkness and disquietude it may open a temporary resource, whether for a
virtuous secession or an ejected church to fall back upon; but a fiirmore glorious
consummation is, when tlie State puts forth its hand to sustain but not to sub-

EEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 131

jugate the Churcli, and the two, bent on moral conquests alone, walk together
as fellow-helpers towards the achievement of that great pacific triumph — the
Christian education of the people."

The indifferent success with which the latter part of the labours of Br.
Chalmers in behalf of church extension was followed, could be but too easily
explained. The Church of Scotland had now entered the depths of her trial ;
and while the issue was uncertain, the public mind was in that state of suspense
under which time seems to stand still, and all action is at a pause. The urgent
demand that was pressed upon society was for money to erect more places of
worship — but what the while did the State mean to do in this important mat-
ter? Would it take the whole responsibility upon itself, or merely supplement
the liberality of the people? And if the latter, then, to what amount would ifc
give aid, and upon what terms ? When a cautious benevolence is thus posed,
it too often ruminates, until the hour of action has knelled its departure. Such
was the condition to which Scotland was now reduced. In tracing its causes,
we must revert to the last five years of our narrative, and those important eccle-
siastical movements with which Dr. Chalmers was so closely implicated.

In obtaining the veto law. Dr. Chalmers was far from regarding it either as
a satisfactory or a final measure. Instead of being an ecclesiastical reform, it
was but a half-way concession, in which Church and State would be liable to
much unpleasant collision. This result must sooner or later be the case, and in
such a shock the weaker would.be driven to the wall. This Dr. Chalmers
foresaw, and it required no extraordinary sagacity to foretell which of these
causes would prove the weaker. And yet the veto, like most great changes
however defective, worked well at the commencement. So remarkably had
the evangelistic spirit been revived by it, that in 1839 the revenue collected for
Christian enterprise was fourteen times greater than it had been five years
previous. Another significant fact of its usefulness was, that notwithstanding
the new power it conferred upon the people, that power had been enjoyed
with such moderation, that during these five years it had been exercised
only in ten cases out of one hundred and fifty clerical settlements. All this,
however, was of no avail to save it from ruin, and even the beginning of its
short-lived existence gave promise how soon and how fatally it would terminate.

The first act of hostility to the veto law occurred only a few months after ifc
had passed. The parish church of Auchterarder had become vacant, and the
Earl of Kinnoul, who was patron, made a presentation of the living in favour
of Mr. Robert Young, a licentiate. But the assent of the people was also
necessary, and after ^Ir. Young had preached two successive Sabbaths in the
pulpit of Auchterarder, that the parishioners might test his qualifications, a day
was appointed for their coming forward to moderate in the call, by signing their
acceptance. Not more, however, than two heads of families, and his lordship's
fiictor, a non-resident, out of a parish of three thousand souls, gave their sub-
scription. As this was no call at all, it was necessary to obtain a positive dissent,
and on the opportunity being given for the heads of families, being communi-
cants, to sign their rejection, two hundred and eighty-seven, out of three hundred
members, subscribed their refusal to have the presentee for their minister. Tlius,
Mr. Young was clearly and most expressly vetoed, and his presentation should,
according to the law, have been instantly cancelled; but, instead of submitting,
he appealed against the refusal of the parish, in the first instance to the Presby-
tery, and afterwards to tlie Synod; and on his appeal being rejected successively

132 REV. TIIOJIAS CHALMERS, D.B.

by both courts, he finally carried it, not to the General Assembly, for ultimate
adjudication, as he was bound to do, but to the Court of Session, where it was
to be reduced to a civil question, and nothing more. In this way, admission to
tiie holy office of the ministry and the cure of souls was to be as secular a ques-
tion as the granting of a publican's license or the establishment of a highway
toll, and to be settled by the same tribunal! After much fluctuation and delay
tiiat occurred daring the trial of this singular case, a final decision was pro-
nounced by the Court of Session in February, 1888, by which the Presbytery
of Auchterarder was declared to have acted illegally, and in violation of their
duty, in rejecting Mr. Young solely on account of the dissent of the parish,
without any reasons assigned for it. But what should the Presbytery do or
suffer in consequence? This was not declared ; for the Court, having' advanced
so far as to find the veto law illegal, did not dare to issue a positive command
to the Church to throw it aside, and admit the presentee to the ministerial
office. The utmost they could do v.as to adjudge the temporalities of the
benefice to JMr. Young, while the Church might appoint to its spiritual duties
whatever preacher was found fittest for the purpose. Still, however, if not un-
churched, she vras disestablished by such a decision ; and, for the purpose of
averting this disastrous termination, the case was appealed from the Court of
Session to the House of Lords. But there the sentence of the Scottish tribunal,
instead of being repealed, was confirmed and established into law. Thus patron-
age was replaced in all its authority, and the veto made a dead letter. This
judgment, so important to the future history of the Church of Scotland, was
delivered by the House of Lords on May 3, 1839. On the IGth the General
Assembly met, and Dr. Chalmers, who had hitherto seldom taken a part in the
proceedings of church courts, now made anxious preparation for the important
crisis. The veto, he saw, existed no longer; but was the choice of the people
to perish also? The important discussion commenced by Dr. Cook presenting
a motion, to the effect that the Assembly should hold the veto law as abro-
gated, and proceed as if it never had passed. To this Dr. Chalmers presented a
counter-motion, consisting of three parts. The first acknowledged the right of
the civil authority over the temporalities of the living of Auchterarder, and
acquiesced in their loss ; the second expressed the resolution not to abandon the
principle of non-intrusion ; and the third proposed the formation of a commit-
tee to confer with Government, for the prevention of any further collision
between the ecclesiastical and civil authorities. A heart-stirring speech of
three hours followed, in which he advocated each point of his motion with such
irresistible eloquence, that it was carried by a majority of forty-nine. In this
speech, the following comparison between the two national churches was not
only fitted to send a patriotic thrill through every Scottish heart, but to en-
lighten those English understandings that could not comprehend the causes of
a national commotion, in which they, nevertheless, found themselves somehow
most deeply implicated :— «

" Let me now, instead of looking forward into consequences, give some idea
to the Assembly of the extent of that degradation and helplessness which, if we
do submit to this decision of the House of Lords, have been actually and already
inflicted upon us— a degradation to which the Church of England, professing
the king to be their head, never would submit ; and to which the Church of
Scotland, professing the Lord Jesus Christ to be their head, never can. You
know that, by the practice of our church, the induction and the ordination g-)

LEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 133

together. We regavil both as spiritual acts ; but, by the practice of the Church
of England, the two are separated in point of time from each other ; and as they
look onl^'- upon the ordination as spiritual, this lays them open to such civil
mandates and civil interdicts as we have never been accustomed to receive in
the questions which arise on the subject of induction into parishes. But ask
any English ecclesiastic whether the bishop Avould receive an ordei*, from any civil
court whatever, on the matter of ordination ; and the instant, the universal reply
is, that he would not. In other words, we should be degraded far beneath the
level of the sister church if wo remain in connection with the State, and submit
to this new ordinance, or, if you will, to this new interpretation of their old
ordinances." After quoting a case in point, in which a presentee in the Church
of England had appealed, but in vain, to the royal authority against the prelate
v.'ho refused to ordain him. Dr. Chalmers continued : — " To what position, then,
are we brought if we give ia to the opposite motion, and proceed in consequence
to tlie ordination of Mr. Young ? To such a position as the bishops of England,
Avith all the Erastianism which has been charged, and to a great degree, I think,
lalsely charged, upon that establishment, never, never would consent to occupy.
Many of them would go to the prison and the death rather than submit to such
an invasion on the functions of the sacred office. We read of an old imprison-
ment of bishops, which led to the greatest and most glorious political emanci-
pation that ever took place in the history of England. Let us not be mistaken.
Should the -emancipation of our church require it, there is the same strength of
high and holy determination in this our land. There are materials here, too,
for upholding the contest between principle and power, and enough of the blood
and spirit of the olden time for sustaining that holy warfare, where, as in former
days, the inflictions of the one party were met with a patience and determina-
tion invincible in the sufferings of the other."

In consequence of the recommendation embodied in his motion, a com-
mittee was appointed for conferring with Government, of which Dr. Chalmers
was convener. It was now resolved that they should repair to London upon their
important mission, and thither he accompanied them in the beginning of July.
After much negotiation with the leaders of the different parties, the members
of committee returned to Edinburgh ; and in the report which Dr. Chalmers
gave of their proceedings, he expressed his opinion that matters looked more
hopeful than ever. Important concessions were to be made to the church on
the part of Government, and a measure was to be devised and drawn up to that
effect. "With such helps and encouragements on our side," the report con-
cluded, '-let but the adherents of this cause remain firm and united in principle
among themselves, and with the favour of an approving God, any further con-
test will be given up as unavailing ; when, let us fondly hope, all the feelings
of party, whether of triumph on one side, because of victory, or of humiliation
on the other side, because of defeat, shall be merged and forgotten in the desires of
;v common patriotism, to the reassurance of all who are the friends of our Estab-
lishment, to the utter confusion of those enemies who watch for our halting,
and would rejoice in our overthrow."

It was indeed full time that such a hope should dawn upon those who loved
the real interests of our church. For the case of Auchterarder did not stand
alone; on the contrary, it was only the first signal of a systematic warfare
which patronage was about to wage against the rights of the people ; and the
example of appeal to the civil authority was but too readily followed in those

13 i r>EV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

cases tliat succeeded. And first came that of Lethendy, and afterwards of
Marnocli, in wliicli the civil authority was invoked by vetoed presentees; while
in the last of these conflicts the Presbytery of Strathbogie, to which Marnocli
belonged, complicated the difficulties of the question by adopting the cause of
the rejected licentiate, and setting the autliority of the church at defiance. The
rebellious ministers were suspended from office; and they, in turn, relying upon
the protection of the civil power, served an interdict upon those clergymen who,
at the appointment of the General Assembly, sliould attempt to officiate in their
pulpits, or even in their parishes. The Court of Session complied so far as to
exclude the Assembly's ministers from preaching in the churches, church-yards,
and school-rooms of the suspended, so that they were obliged to preach in barns
or in the open air ; but at last, when even this liberty was complained of by the
silenced recusants, the civil court agreed to the wiiole amount of their petition.
It was such a sentence, issuing from mere jurisconsults and Edinburgh lawyers,
as was sometimes hazarded in the most tyrannical seasons of the dark ages,
when a ghostly conclave of pope, cardinals, and prince-prelates, laid a whole
district under the ban of an interdict for the offence of its ruler, and deprived
its people of the rites of the church until full atonement had been paid. Such
was the state of matters when the Assembly's commission met on the 4th of
March, and resolved to resist this monstrous usurpation. On this occasion. Dr.
Chalmers spoke with his wonted energy; and after representing the enormity
of the oiFence, and the necessity of resisting it, he thus concluded : — " Be it
known, then, unto all men, that we shall not retract one single footstep — we
shall make no submission to the Court of Session— and that, not because of tlie
disgrace, but because of the gross and grievous dereliction of principle that we
should thereby incur. They may force the ejection of us from our places: they
shall never, never force us to the surrender of our principles; and if that
honourable court shall again so far mistake their functions as to repeat or rene\v
the inroads they have already made, we trust they will ever meet with tire same
reception they have already gotten — to whom we shall give place by subjection,
no, not for an hour ; no, not by an hair-breadtli."

The only earthly hope of the Church of Scotland was now invested in the
Parliament. The former had di3tinctl3'^ announced the terms on which it would
maintain its connection with the State, while the leading men of the latter had
held out such expectations of redress as filled the hearts of Dr. Chalmers and
his friends with confidence. It was now full time to make the trial. A depu-
tation was accordingly sent to London ; but, after mountains of promises and
months of delay, by whicli expectation was alternately elevated and crushed,
nothing better was produced than Lord Aberdeen's bill. By this, a reclaiming
parish were not only to state their objections, but the grounds and reasons on
which they were founded ; while the Presbytery, in taking cognizance of these
objections, were to admit them only when personal to the presentee, established
on sufficient grounds, and adequate for his rejection. Thus, a country parish —
a rustic congregation — were to analyze their religious impressions, embody them
in distinct form, and table them before a learned and formidable tribunal in re-
jecting the minister imposed upon them; while, in weighing these nice objec-
tions, and ascertaining their specific gravity, every country minister was to be
a Duns Scotus or Thomas Aquinas, if not a very Daniel come to judgment.
We suspect that the members of the learned House of Lords, and even of the
Commons to boot, would have been sorely puzzled had such a case been their

EEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 135

own, whether iu tlie character of judges or api)ellants. It was in vain tliat Dr.
Cliahners remonstrated by letter with the originator of this strange measure:
the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill, was now the uUimattim; and,
as might be expected, it was rejected in the General Assembly by a majority
of nearly two to one. The unfortunate bill was in consequence withdrawn,
while its disappointed author characterized Dr. Chalmers, in the House of Lords,
as "a reverend gentleman, a great leader in the Assembly, who, having brought
the church into a state of jeopardy and peril, had left it to find its way out of
the difficulty as well as it could." This was not the only instance in which the
doctor and his coadjutors were thus calumniated from the same quarter, so that
he was obliged to publish a pamphlet on the principles of the church question,
and a reply to the charges with which its advocates had been vilified. 'It is
as a blow strack," he wrote, "at the corner-stone, when the moral integrity of
clergymen is assailed ; and when not in any secret or obscure whispering-place,
but on the very house-tops of the nation, we behold, and without a single ex-
pression of remonstrance or regret from the assembled peerage of the emph-e, one
nobleman sending forth his wrathful fulmination against the honesty and truth
of ministers of religion, and another laughing it off in his own characteristic
way with a good-natured jeer as a thing of nought — we cannot but lament the
accident by which a question of so grave a nature, and of sucli portentous con-
sequences to society as the character of its most sacred functionaries, should
have come even for a moment under the treatment of such hands."

Events had now ripened for decisive action. The Church could not, and tlie
State would not yield, and those deeds successively and rapidly occurred that
terminated in the disruption. As these, however, were so open, and are so well
known, a brief recapitulation of the leading ones is all that is necessary. The
seven suspended ministers of Strathbogie, regardless of the sentence of the
Assembly, by which thej'- were rendered incapable of officiating in their minis-
terial character, resolved to ordaia and admit Mr. Edwards, the rejected pre-
sentee, to the pastoral charge of Marnoch, at the command and by the authority
of the Court of Session alone, which had by its sentence commissioned them to
that effect. Tliis portentous deed was done on the 21st of January, 18^1, and
Scotland looked on v.-ith as much astonishment as if the Stuarts had risen from
the dead. "'May Heaven at length open the eyes of those infatuated men," ex-
claimed Dr. Chalmers, " who are now doing so much to hasten on a crisis whicli
they will be the first to deplore!" For an act of daring rebellion, so unpa
ralleled in the histor}'- of the Church, it was necessary that its perpetrators
should be deposed ; and for this Dr. Chalmers boldly moved at the next meet-
ing of Assembly. The question was no longer whether these men were ani-
mated by pure and conscientious though mistaken motives, to act as they had
done: of this fact Dr. Chalmers declared that he knew nothing. "But I do
know," he added, " that when forbidden by their ecclesiastical superiors to
proceed any further with Mr. Edwards, they took him upon trials; and when
suspended from the functions of the sacred ministry by a commission of the
General Assembly, they continued to preach and to dispense the sacraments ;
that they called in the aid of the civil power to back them in the exclusion
from their respective parishes of clergymen appointed by the only competent
court to fulfil the office which they were no longer competent to discharge; and
lastly, as if to crown and consummate this whole disobedience — as if to place
the topstone on the Babel of their proud and rebellious defiance, I know that.

to tlie scandal and astonishment of all Scotland, and with a dnring which I
believe themselves would have shrunk from at the outset of their headlong
career, tliey put forth their unlicensed hands on the dread work of ordination •,
and as if in solemn mockery of the Church's most veneraLle forms, asked of the
unhappy man who knelt before them, if he promised *to submit himself
humbly and willingly, in the spirit of meekness, unto the admonitions of the
brethren of the Presbytery, and to be subject to them and all other Presbyte-
ries and superior judicatories of this Church ;' and got back from him an affirma-
tive response, along with the declaration that 'zeal for the honour of God, lovo
to Jesus Christ, and desire of saving souls, were his great motives and chief
inducements to enter into the functions of the holy ministry, and not worldly de-
signs and interests.' " The proposal for their deposition was carried by a majo-
rity of ninety-seven out of three liundred and fortj'-seven members, notwith-
standing the opposition of the moderate party, and the sentence was pronounced
accordingly. But only the day after the Assembly was astounded by being
served with an interdict, charging them to desist from carrying tlieir sentence
into effect! After this deed of hardihood, the deposed ministers retired to their
parishes, and continued their public duties in defiance of the Assembly's award,
while they were encouraged in their contumacy by several of their moderate
brethern, who assisted them in the celebration of the Lord's Supper. A resolu-
tion was passed that these abettors of the deposed ministers should be censured ;
but Dr. Cook and his party opposed the measure, on the plea that it would
perpetuate the divisions now prevalent in the Church. It was thus made a ques-
tion, not of the Church against the State for the aggressions of the latter against
the former, but merely of the evangelical party against tlie moderates; and
upon this footing the moderates were resolved to place it before the legislature,
and ascertain to which of the parties the countenance and support of the State
was to be given. In this form the result would be certain, for the State would
love its own. A disruption was inevitable, and it was equally certain that the
evangelical portion of the Church would not be recognized by the State as the
established Church of Scotland. This was so distinctly foreseen, that meetings
had already been held to deliberate in what manner the Church was to be sup-
ported after it should be disestablished. Upon this difficult question Dr. Chal-
mers had already bestowed profound attention, and been rewarded with the
most animating hopes; so that in a letter to Sir George Sinclair he thus writes:
"I have been studying a good deal the economy of our non-Erastian church
when severed from the State and its endowments— an event which I would do
much to avert, but which, if inevitable, we ought to be prepared for. I do not
participate in your fears of an extinction even for our most remote parishes.
And the noble resolution of the town ministers, to share cqiiaUy with their
country brethren, from a common fund raised for the general behoof of the
ejected ministers, has greatly brightened my anticipations of a great and
glorious result, should the Government cast us off."

This casting-oflf became every day more certain. The Court of Session was
now the umpire in every case of ecclesiastical rule; so that vetoed preachers and
suspended ministers could carry their case before the civil tribunal, with the
almost certain hope that the sentence of the church court would be reversed. Thus
it was in the case of Culsalmond, in the Presbytery of Garioch. A preacher was
presented whom the parishioners refused to receive as their minister ; but the
Presbytery, animated by the example of their brethren of Strathbogie, forthwith

TEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 137

ordained him without waiting, as they were bound, for the adjudication ol' tlie
General Assembly; and when its meeting of commission interposed, and arrested
these proceedings, it was served by the civil court with a suspension and inter-
dict. Another case was, if possible, still more flagrant. The minister of a
parish had been convicted of four separate acts of theft. The cases were of such
a contemptible kind of petty larceny, compared with the position of the culprit
and the consequences they involved, that it may be charitably hoped they arose
from that magpie monomania from which even lords and high-titled ladies are
not always exempt, under which they will sometimes secrete a few inches of
paltry lace, or pocket a silver spoon. But though the cause of such perversity
might be suited for a consultation of doctors and a course of hellebore, the deeds
themselves showed the unfitness of the actor to be a minister. Yet he too
applied for and obtained an interdict against the sentence of deposition; so that
he was enabled to purloin eggs, handkerchiefs, and pieces of earthenware for a
few years longer. A third minister was accused of fraudulent dealings, and was
about to be tried by his Presbytery; but here, also, the civil court was success-
fully invoked to the rescue, and an interdict was obtained to stop the trial. A
fourth case was that of a presentee who, in consequence of repeated acts of
drunkenness, was about to be deprived of his license; but this offender was
likewise saved by an interdict. And still the State looked on, and would do
nothing! The only alternative was for that party to act by whom such pro-
ceedings could be conscientiously endured no longer. They must dis-establish
themselves bj' their own voluntary deed, whether they constituted the majority
of the church or otherwise. But how many of their number were prepared to
make the sacrifice? and in what nianner was it to be made? This could only
be ascertained by a convocation of the ministers from every part of Scotland;
and the meeting accordingly was appointed to be held in Edinburgh on the
17th of November, 1842. It was an awful crisis, and as such Dr. Chalmers
felt it ; so that, having done all that man could do in the Avay of preparation,
he threw himself wholly upon Divine strength and counsel. Ilis solemn peti-
tions on this occasion were : "Do thou guide, O Lord, the deliberations and
measures of that convocation of ministers now on the eve of assembling ; and
save me, in particular, from all that is rash and unwarrantable when engaged
with the counsels or propositions that come before it. Let me not, 0 God, be
an instrument in any wa3r of disappointing or misleading my brethren. Let me
not, in this crisis of our Church's history, urge a sacrifice upon others which I
would not most cheerfully share with them." The convocation assembled, and
450 ministers were present on the occasion. The deliberations, which ex-
tended over several days, were conducted with a harmony and unanimity sel-
dom to be found in church courts; one common principle, and that, too,
of the highest and most sacred import, seemed to animate every member;
while in each movement a voice was heard to which they were all ready to listen.
The pra\'er of Dr. Chalmers Avas indeed answered! It was resolved, that no
measure could be submitted to, unless it exempted them in all time to come
from such a supremacy as the civil courts had lately exercised. Should this
not be obtained and guaranteed, the next resolution was, that they should with
draw from a Church in which they could no longer conscientiousl3'' remain and
act under such secular restrictions. It was probable, then, that they must witli-
draw, but what was to follow? Even to the wisest of their number it seemed
inevitable that they must assume the character of mere individual missionaries,

V. s

138 EEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D,

each labouring by liiraself in whatever sphere of usefuhiess he could find, and
trusting to the precarious good-will of Christian society for his support. They
could be an organized and united Cliurch no longer; for had not such a conse-
quence followed the Bartholomew Act in England, and the Black Act in Scot-
land, of whose victims they were about to become the willing followers and
successors. It was at this trying moment that Dr. Chalmers stepped forward
with an announcement that electrified the whole Assembly, He had long con-
templated, in common with his brethren, the probability of an exodus such as
was now resolved. But that which formed their ultimatum was only his start-
ing-point. In that very ejectment there was the beginning of a new ecclesi-
astical history of Scotland ; and out of these fragments a Church was to be
constituted with a more complete and perfect organization than before. Such
had been his hopes ; and for their realization he had been employed during
twelve months in drawing out a plan, by which this disestablished Cliurch was
to be supported as systematically and effectually by a willing public, as it had
been in its highest ascendancy, when the State was its nursing-mother. Here,
then, was the remote mysterious end of all those laborious studies of former
years in legislation, political econom}^ and finance, at which the wisest of his
brethren had marvelled, and with which the more rigid had been offended! He
now unfolded the schedule of his carefully constructed and admirable scheme ;
and the hearers were astonished to find that General Assemblies, Synods, and
Presbyteries, — that their institutions of missionary and benevolent enterprise,
with settled homes and a fitting provision for all in their ministerial capacity,
were still at hand, and ready for their occupation, as before. In this way tlie
dreaded disruption v.-as to be nothing more than a momentary shock. And
now the ministers might return to their manses, and gladden with these tidings
their anxious families who were preparing for a mournful departure. Even yet,
however, they trembled — it was a plan so new, so vast, so utterly beyond their
sphere ! But they were still unshaken in their resolution, which they sub-
scribed with unfaltering hands ; and when Dr. Chalmers heard that more than
300 names had been signed, he exclaimed, " Then we are more than Gideon's
army — a most hopeful omen I" Their proposals were duly transmitted to
Sir Robert Peel, now at the head of Government, and the members, after
six days of solemn conference, retired to their homes.

The terms of the Church, and the reasons on which these were founded, had
thus been stated to Government in the most unequivocal sentences, words,
and syllables, so that there could be no perversion of their construction, or mis-
take of their meaning. The answer of the State was equally express, as em-
bodied in the words of Sir Robert Peel. And thus he uttered it in his place in
the House of Commons : — " If a church chooses to participate in the advan-
tages appertaining to an Establishment, that church, whether it be the Church
ofEngland, the Church of Rome, or the Church of Scotland — that church must
conform itself to the law. It would be an anomaly, it would be an absurdity^
thatachurch should possess the privilege, and enjoy the advantages of connection
with the State, and, nevertheless, claim exemption from the obligations which,
wherever there is an authority, must of necessity exist ; and this House and the
country never could lay it down, that if a dispute should arise in respect of the
statute law of the land, such dispute should be referred to a tribunal not subject
to an appeal to the House of Lords." These were the conditions, and therefore
the Church of Scotland must succumb. Such treatment of land tenures and

EEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 139

offices, as that with which the Articles of Union insuring the independence of the
Scottish Kirii: were thus treated, would have sufficed to dispossess no small por-
tion of the English nobilit}', and dry up hundreds of title deeds into blank
parchment. But on this occasion the dint of the argument fell not upon
knights and nobles, whom it would have been dangerous to disturb, but upon
Scottish presbyters, of whom sufferance had been the distinctive badge since the
day that James VI. entered England. The aggressors and the aggrieved were
equally aware that the da^-s of Drumclog and Bothwell Bridge had passed away
witli the buif-coats and partisans of the seventeenth century-, and therefore,
while the one party assailed, the other were prepared to defend themselves,
according to peaceful modern usage. The war of argument and remonstrance
had ended, and the overpowered but not vanquished Church must rally and
intrench itself according to the plan laid down at the beginning of the cam-
paign. It was now, therefore, that Dr. Chalmers was doubly busy. When he
announced his financial plan at the convocation, by which the retiring Church
was to be supported in all its former integrity, his brethren had demurred about
the possibility of its accomplishment, and now held back from the attempt.
Tliat plan was the organization of local associations, b\' which not only every
district, but every family should be accessible, so that his vision, as they were
ready to deem it, of £100,000 per annum for the support of the ministry alone,
might be accumulated in shillings and pence. It was the trunk of tlie elephant
handling erevy leaf, twig, and branch of the tree which it was commissioned to
uproot. Finding himself, in the first instance, unable to convince by argument,
he had recourse to example, and for this purpose he immediately instituted an
association of his own in the parish of Morningside, the place of his residence.
His example was followed by others; and at last a provisional committee was
formed, having for its object the whole plan which he had originally proposed.
It consisted of three sections, the financial, the architectural, and the statistical,
of which the first was properly intrusted to himself, and the result of this
threefold action by infinitesimal application quickly justified his theory. Local
associations over the whole extent of Scotland were formed by the hundred, and
contributions of money accumulated by the thousand, so that, let the disrup-
tion occur as it might, the most despondent hearts were chsered and prepared
for the emergency.

The important period at length arrived that was to set the seal upon all this
preparation and promise. The interval that had occurred was that awful pause
of hope and fear, with which friend and enemy await a deed of such moment,
that they cannot believe in its reality until it is accomplished. Would then a
disruption occur in very truth, and the CJiurch of Scotland be rent asunder?
Or would Government interpose at tlie last hour and moment to avert so fatal
a necessity? Or might it not be, that when it came to the trial, the hearts of
the men who had spoken so bravely would fail them, so that they would be
ready to embrace any terms of accommodation, or even surrender at discretion ?
But the da^'S of martyrdom — the chivalry of the Church — it was asserted had
gone for ever; and therefore there were thousands who proclaimed their convic-
tion to the very last that not a hundred would go out — not forty — perhaps not
even one. On Thursday, the 18th of May, 1843, the General Assembly was to
be opened, and the question laid to rest, while every district and nook of Scot-
land had poured its representatives into Edinburgh to look on and judge. Nor
was that dav commenced without a startlin": omen. The ministers of the

KO REV. TH05IAS CHALMERS, D.D.

Assembly had repaired to the ancient palace of Holy rood, to pay dutiful
homage to their Sovereign, in the person of Lord Bute, her commissioner; and
there also v/cre the protesting clergy, eager to show at that trying crisis, that
let the issue be what it might, they were, and still would continue to be, the
leal and loyal subjects of her Majesty. But as the crowded levee approached
his lordship, the picture of King William that hung upon the wall — he who
had restored that Presbyterian Church whose rights were now to be vindicated —
fell to the ground with a sullen clang, while a voice from the crowd exclaimed,
"There goes the revolution settlement?" The levee was over in Holyrood;
the devotional exercises had been finished in the Cathedral of St. Giles; and tho
General Assembly were seated in St. Andrew's church, ready to commence tho
business of the day — but not the wonted business. Dr. Welch, who, as moderator
of the last Assembly, occupied the chair of oflice, and opened the proceedings with
prayer, had another solemn duty to perform: it was, to announce the signal of de-
parture to those who must remain in the Church no longer; it was like the "Let
us go hence!" which was heard at midnight in the temple of Jerusalem, when
that glorious structure was about to pass away. Rising from his chair, and ad-
dressing one of the densest crowds that ever filled a place of worship, but all
hushed in the death-like silence of expectation, he announced that he could
proceed with the Assembly no^urther. Their privileges had been violated and
their liberties subverted, so that they could no longer act as a supreme court of
the Church of Scotland ; and these reasons, set forth at full length in the docu-
ment which he held in his hand, he, with their permission, would now read to them.
Pie then read to them the well-known protest of the Free Cluircli of Scotland;
and having ended, he bowed respectfully to the commissioner, left his chair of
office, and slowly passed to the door. Dr. Chalmers, who stood beside him, like
one absorbed in some recollection of the past, or dream of the future, started,
seized his hat, and hurried after the retiring moderator, as if eager to be gone.
A long stream followed; and as bench after bench was emptied of those who thus
sacrificed home, and living, and station in society at the call of conscience, the
onlookers gazed as if all was an unreal phantasmagoria, or at least an incom-
prehensible anomaly. But the hollow echoes of tlie building soon told tliem
that it was a stern reality which they had witnessed. More than four hundred
ministers, and a still greater number of elders, who but a fcAV moments ago
occupied these places, had now departed, never to return.

In the meantime George Street, one 'of the widest streets of Edinburgh, in
which St. Andrew's church is situated, was filled— nay, wedged— not witli
thousands, but myriads of spectators, who waited impatiently for tlie result.
Every eye was fixed upon the building, and every tongue was impatient witli
the question, *' Will they come out?" — "When will they come out?' At
length the foremost of the retiring ministers appeared at the church porch, and
onward came the long procession, the multitudes dividing with difficulty before
their advance, and hardly giving them room to pass three abreast. Well, then,
they had indeed come out ! and it was difficult to tell whether the applauding
shouts or sympathizing tears of that heaving sea of people predominated. On-
ward slowly Avent that procession, extending nearly a quarter of a mile in length,
down towards Tanfield, where a place of meeting had been prepared for them
in anticipation of the event. It was a building constructed on the model of a
Moorish Hambra, such as might have loomed over an orange-grove in Grenada
during the days of the Zegris and Abencerrages ; but which now, strangely

REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 141

enough, was to receive a Land of Scottish ministers, and witness the work of
constituting a Presbyterian churcli. The hall, which could contain "000 sitters,
had been crowded from an early hour with those who, in the faith that the
ministers would redeem their promises, had come to witness what would follow.
This new General Assembly Dr. Welch opened with prayer, even as he had,
little more than an hour previous, opened the old ; after which, it was his office
to propose the moderator who should succeed him. And this he did by naming
Dr. Chalmers, amidst a tempest of approving acclamation. '' Surely it is a good
omen," he added, " or, I should say, a token for good from the Great Disposer
of all events, that I can propose to hold this office an individual who, by the
efforts of his genius and his virtues, is destined to hold so conspicuous a place
in the eyes of all posterit3\ But this, I feel, is taking but a low view of the
sul)ject. His genius has been devoted to the service of his Heavenly Master,
and his is the high honour promised to those who, having laboured successfully
in their Master's cause, and turned many to righteousness, are to ' shine as the
stars for ever and ever.' " Dr. Chalmers took the chair accordingly ; and who
can guess the feelings that may have animated him, or the thoughts that
may have passed through his mind, at such a moment 1 He had lived, he had
wrought, and this was the result ! A man of peace, he had been thrown into
ecclesiastical controversy ; a humble-minded minister, he had been borne on-
ward to the front of a great national movement, and been recognized as its
suggester and leader. And while he had toiled from year to year in doubt and
despondency, events had been so strangely overruled, that his aims for the
purification of the old Church had ended in the creation of a new. And of that
new Church the General Assembly was now met, while he was to preside in it
as moderator. That this, too, was really a national Church, and not a mere
sectarian offshoot, was attested by the fact of 470 ministers standing before him
as its representatives ; while the public sympathy in its behalf was also repre-
sented by the crowded auditory who looked on, and followed each successive
movement with a solicitude far deeper than mere transient excitement. All
this was a mighty achievement — a glorious victor}', which posterity would be
proud to chronicle. But in his opening address he reminded them of the example
given by the apostles of our Lord ; and by what followed, he showed the current
into which his mind had now subsided. " Let us not forget,' he said, " in the
midst of this rejoicing, the deep humility that pervaded their songs of exultation ;
the trembling whicli these holy men mixed with their mirth— trembling arising
from a sense of their own weakness ; and then courage inspired by the thought cf
that aid and strength which was to be obtained out of His fulness who formed
all their boasting and all their defence. Never in the history of our Church
were such feelings and such acknowledgments more called for than now ; and
in the transition we are making, it becomes us to reflect on such sentiments as
these—' Not I, but the grace of God in me ;' and, ' Let him that thinketh he
standeth take heed lest he fall.' "

Such was the formation and such the commencement of the Free Church of
Scotland. And now it might have seemed that Dr. Chalmers should be per-
mitted to retire to that peaceful life of study and meditation in which he so
longed that the evening of his day should close. But the formation of the new
Church, instead of finishing his labours, was only to open up a new sphere of
trial and difficulty that imperiously demanded the uttermost of his exertions,
and which only promised to terminate when his own life had ended. To him

143 r.EV. TIIOMA-S CHALMERS, D.D.

there was to be no repose, save in that place where the "wear^y arc at rest."
But great thougli the sacrifice was, he did not shrink from the obligation. The
financial affairs of the church which he had originated, and which wore still in
their new-born infancy, required his fostering care ; and therefore he undertook
the charge of the Sustentation Fund out of which the dispossessed ministers
were to be supported; and not only maintained a wide correspondence, but
performed a laborious tour in its behalf. And, truly, it was a difficult and
trying office, where money was to be raised on the one hand entirely from
voluntary benevolence, and distributed on the other among those who outnum-
bered its amount, and whose share had to be apportioned accordingly. All this,
however, he endured till 1845, when, from very exhaustion, he v/as obliged to
let the burden fall from his shoulders, and be taken up by younger hands, with
the declaration — " It is not a matter of choice, but of physical necessity. I have
neither the vigour nor the alertness of former days ; and the strength no longer
remains with me, either for the debates of the Assembly, or for the details of
committees and their correspondence." This, too, was not the onl}', or perhaps
even the most important task which the necessities of the disruption had de-
volved upon him. A college must be established, and that forthwith, for the
training of an accomplished and efficient ministry ; and here also Dr. Chalmers
was in requisition. His office of theological professor in the university of
Edinburgh was resigned as soon as his connection with the Established Church
had ceased ; but this was followed by his appointment to the offices of principal
and primarius professor of divinity in the new institution which the Free
Church contemplated. Here, then, was a college to create, as well as its duties
to discharge ; and how well theso duties were discharged till the last hour of
his life, the present generation of preachers and ministers who were his pupils
can well and warmly attest. To his capacious and active mind, the mere gin-
horso routine into which such professorial employments had too often degene-
rated, would have been not only an absolute mockery, but a downright torture;
and therefore he was " in season out of season " in the subjects he taught,
as well as his modes of educational training, esteeming no labour too much that
could either impart new ideas or fresh enthusiasm to those whom he was rearing
for the most important of all occupations. And even independently of this
impulse which his labours thus communicated to the main-spring of action in
the mechanism of the Free Church, the fixct of his merely holding office there
v>as of the highest importance to the college. No literary institution, however
lowly in aspect or poor in endowments, could be insignificant, or even of a
second-rate character, that had a man of such world-wide reputation at its head.
The college is now a stately edifice, while the staff of theological professors with
which it is supplied is the fullest and most complete of all our similar British
institutions.

But amidst all this accumulated pressure of labour, under which even Dr.
Chalmers had well nigh sunk, and the fresh blaze of reputation that fell upon
his decline of life, making it brighter than his fullest noon-day— both alike the
consequences of that new position which he occupied — there was one favourite
duty of which he had never lost sight. It was the elevation of the ground-story
of human society from the mud in which it was imbedded — the regeneration of
our town parialis into intelligent, virtuous, and useful citizens, by the agency
of intellectual and religions education. This he had attempted iu Glasgow,
both in the Tron and St. John's parish ; he had continued it, though with more

REV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 14;:

limited means, and upon a smaller scale, in St. Andrews ; and but for his more
onerous avocations in Edinburgh, Avhich had engrossed him without intermis-
sion since his arrival in the northern capital, he would have made the attempt
there also. But still he felt as if he could not enjoy the brief term of life that
yet remained for him, or finally forego it with comfort, unless he made one
other attempt in behalf of an experiment from which he had never ceased to
hope for the most satisfactory results. Since the time that he had commenced
these labours in Glasgow, he had seen much of society in its various phases, and
largely amplified his experience of its character and requirements ; but all had
only the more convinced him that the lower orders, hitherto neglected, must
be sought in their dens and hovels— that they must be solicited into the light
of day and the usages of civilization — and that there the schoolmaster and the
minister should be ready to meet them more than half-way. Without this
"aggressive system," this " excavating process," by which the deep recesses of
a crowded city were to be quarried, and its dark corners penetrated and per-
vaded, these destitute localities might be studded with churches and schools to
no purpose. And the manner in which such a population were to be sought
and won, he had also fully and practically demonstrated by his former experi-
ments as a minister. Let but a district, however benighted, be divided into sec-
tions, where each tenement or close could have its own zealous, benevolent super-
intendent, and dull and obdurate indeed must the inhabitants of that territory
be, if they could long continue to resist such solicitations. His first wish was,
that the Free Church should have embarked in such a hopeful enterprise; but
its experience was as yet so limited, and its difficulties so many, that it was not
likely, during his own life-time at least, that it could carry on a home mission
upon so extensive a scale. He therefore resolved to try the good work him-
self, and leave the result as a sacred legacy, for the imitation of the Church and
posterity at large. " I have determined," he wrote to a friend in 1844, " to
assume a poor district of 2000 people, and superintend it myself, though it be a
work greatly too much for my declining strength and means. Yet such do I
hold to be the efficiency of the method, with the Divine blessing, that, perhaps?
as the concluding act of my public life, I shall make the effort to exemplify
what as yet I have only expounded." Only expounded? This truly was
humble language from one who had already done so much !

The place selected for this benevolent trial was the most unhopeful that could
be found in Edinburgh. It was the West Port, a district too well known informer
years by the murders of Burke and Hare, and to which such an infamy still
attached, that many of its inhabitants lived as if a good character were unattain-
able, and therefore not worth striving for. Its population consisted of about
two thousand souls, the very sediment of the Edinburgh lower orders, who seem
to have sunk into this loathesome locality because they could sink no farther. To
cleanse, nay, even to enter this Augean stable, required no ordinary firmness of senses
as well as nerve, where sight, touch, smell, and hearing were successively assailed
to the uttermost. Dr. Chalmers, undaunted by the result of a survey, mapped
this Alsatia into twenty districts, of about twenty families a-piece, over which
were appointed as many visitors#-men animated with his spirit, and imbued
with his views, whose task was to visit every family once a-week, engage with
them in kindly conversation, present them with useful tracts, and persuade them
to join with them in the reading of Scripture and in prayer. A school was
also opened for the young in the very close of the Burke and Hare murders,

141 EEV. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.

but not a cliaiity school ; on the contrary, the feeling of independence, and the
value of education, were to be impressed upon this miserable population, by
exacting a fee of 2d. per week from each pupil — for Dr. Chalmers well knew,
that even wiser people than those of the West Port are apt to feel that what
costs them nothing i? worth nothing. All this he explained to them at a full
meeting in the old deserted tannery, where the school was to be opened; and
so touched were the people with his kindness, as well as persuaded by his homely
forcible arguments, that on the 11th of November, 18i4, the day on which the
school was opened, sixty-four day scholars and fifty-seven evening scholars were
entered, who in the course of a year increased to 250. And soon was the excellence
of this educational sj'stem evinced by the dirty becoming tidy, and the unruly
orderly; and children who seemed to have neither home nor parent, and who,
when gi'own up, would have been without a country and without a God, were
rescued from the prostitution, ruffianism, and beggary which seemed to be their
natural inheritance, and trained into the full promise of becoming useful and
virtuous members of society. Thus the cleansing commenced at the bottom of
the sink, where all the mephytic vapours were engendered. But still this was
not enough, as long as the confirming power of religion was wanting, and there-
fore the church followed close upon its able pioneer, the school. On the 22d
of December, the tan-loft was opened by Dr. Chalmers for public worship, at
which no more than a dozen of grown people, chiefly old women, at first attended.
But this handful gradually grew into a congregation under the labours of Dr.
Chalmers and his staff of district visitors, so that a minister and regular edifice
for worship were at last in demand. And never in the stateliest metropolitan
pulpit — no, not even when he lectured in London, while prelate and prince held
their breath to listen — had the heart of Dr. Chalmers been more cordially or
enthusiastically in his work, than when he addressed his squalid auditoi-y in
that most sorry of upper rooms in the West Port. And this, his prayers which
he penned on tlie Sabbath evening in his study at Morningside fully confirmed :
" It is yet but the day of small things with lis; and I in all likelihood shall be
taken off ere that much greater progress is made in the advancement of the
blessed gospel throughout our land. But give me the foretaste and the confi-
dent foresight of this great Christian and moral triumph ere I die. Let me at
least, if it be by Thy blessed will, see— though it be only in one or in a small
number of specimens — a people living in some district of aliens, as the West
Port, reclaimed at least into willing and obedient hearers, afterwards in Thine
own good time to become the doers of Thy word. Give me, O Lord, a token for
the larger accomplishment of this good ere I die!" Such were his heavenward
breathings and aspirations upon the great trial that was at issue in the most
liopeless of civic districts, upon the overwhelming question of our day. Would
it yet be shown in the example of the West Port, that the means of regenerating
tlie mass of society are so simple, and withal so efficacious ? The trial is still in
progress, but under the most hopeful auspices. Yet his many earnest prayers
were answered. Money was soon collected for the building of a commodious
school-room, and model-houses for workmen, and also for a territorial church.
The last of these buildings Avas finished, and opened by Dr. Chalmers for public
worship on the 19th of February, 18i7; and on the 25th of April he presided
at its first celebration of the Lord's Supper. When this was ended, he said to
the minister of the West Port church : " I have got now the desire of my
heart : — the church is finished, the schools are flourishing, our ecclesiastical

SIR ALEXANDER FORRESTER INGLIS COCHRANE, G.C.B. ]4y

machinery is about complete, and all in good working order. God has indeed
heard my prayer, and I could now lay down my head in peace and die."

As will be surmised from the foregoing account, Dr. Chalmers, from almost
the commencement of his West Port operations, had a prophetic foreboding
that this would prove the last of his public labours. Such, indeed, was the re-
sult, only a few weeks after this sacrament at the West Port, when, in full
health, and with a strength that promised an extreme old age, he passed away
in silence, and at midnight, and so instantaneously, that there seemed to have
been not a moment of interval between his ending of life in time, and begin-
ning of life in eternity. And this was at a season of triumph, when all
was bright and gladdening around him ; for the Free Church, with which he
was so completely identified, had now 720 ministers, for whose congregations
churches had been erected, with nearly half a milliori of money voluntarily
contributed, besides a large amount fcr the building of manses; it had GOO
schools, a college of nine professors, educating 340 students for the ministry,
and two extensive normal seminaries for the training of teachers; while its
missionaries were actively engaged in every quarter of the earth. He had just
visited London upon the important subject of a national education; and after
unfolding his views to some of our principal statesmen, he returned l)y the way
of Gloucestershire, where he had many friends, with whom he enjo^^ed much
delightful intercourse. He arrived at his home in Morningside on Friday, the
20th of May, while the General Assembly of the Free Church was sitting ; and
as he had a report to prepare for it, he employed himself in the task in tlie
forenoon of Saturdaj'. On the following day his conversation was animated
with all its former eloquence, and more than its wonted cheerfulness ; and in
the evening, as he slowly paced through his garden, at the back of the house,
the ejaculations of " 0 Father, my heavenly Father!" were overheard issuing
from his lips, like the spontaneous utterances of an overflowing heart. He
retired to rest at his wonted hour, intending to rise early on the following
morning to finish his report : but when the hour of rising elapsed he did not
appear; and on knocking at the bed-room door, no answer was returned. The
apartment was entered, and Dr. Chalmers lay in bed as if in tranquil repose,
but it was that repose which only tiie last trump caa dispel. He had died, or
rather he had passed away, about the hour of midnight; but every feature was
so tranquil, and every muscle so composed, that it was evident he had died in
an instant, without pain, and even without consciousness.

Such vvas the end of Dr. Chalmers on the night of the 30th of May, 1847, at
the age of sixty-seven. His character it would be superfluous to sketch: that
is impressed too indelibly and too plainly upon our country at large to require
an interpreter. Thus Scotland felt, when such multitudes followed his remains
to the grave as few kingly funerals have ever mustered. Nor will posterity be at
a loss to know what a man Dr. Chalmers was. He now constitutes to all future
time so essential a portion of Scottish history, that his name will be forgot
only when Scotland itself will cease to be remembered.

COCHRANE, Sir Alexander Forrester Inglis, G.C.B. —This admiral
belonged to a family of which the naval service is justly proud, being the ninth
son of Thomas, eighth Earl of Dundonald, and consequently uncle to the present
earl, better known by the name of Lord Cochrane. Alexander Cochrane was
born on the 23d of April, 1758. Being destined for the sea service, he embarked
at an early age; and, after the usual intermediate steps, was appointed lieutenant

]4G SIR ALEXANDER EORRESTER INGLIS COCHRANE, G.C.B.

ia 1770. In this capacity he acted as signal-officer to Lord Rodney, in tlie
action with de Guichen and the French fleet on the I7th April, 1780, off Mar-
tinique; and it is evident, from the complicated manoeuvres which the Britisli
commander was obliged to adopt in bringing the enemy to action, that Lieu-
tenant Cochrane's office on this occasion was one of great trust. After the
action his name was returned among the list of the wounded. His next
step of promotion was the command of the St. Lucia, sloop of war, and
afterwards of the Pachahunter, which last command he subsequently ex-
changed with Sir Isaac Coffin for that of the Avenger, an armed sloop employed
in the North River in America. At the end of 1782 he was appointed, witli
the rank of post-captain, to the command of the Kangaroo, and afterwards to
the Caroline, of 24 guns, employed on the American station.

After peace was established with our North American colonies, by which
the latter were confirmed as an independent government, Captain Cochrane's
occupation for the time was ended ; and he spent several years in retirement,
until he was called again to service in 1790, in the prospect of a rupture
wdth Spain. On this occasion he was appointed to tlie command of a small
frigate, the Hind, when, on the renewal of hostilities with France, he was re-
moved to the Thetis, of 42 guns and 281 men. With such means at his dis-
posal he soon showed himself an active, bold, and successful cruiser, so that,
during the spring and summer of 17!);3, he captured eight French privateers,
mounting in all above eighty guns. In 1795 he also signalized himself by a
bold attack upon five French sail off Chesapeake, being aided by the Hussar, a
British frigate of 34 guns, and succeeded in capturing one of the largest vessels,
the rest having made their escape after they had struck. Several years of service
on tlie coast of America succeeded, in which Captain Cochrane made important
captures of not a few French privateers, and established his character as an able
naval commander ; so tliat, in February, 1799, he was appointed to the Ajax,
of 80 guns, and sent in the following year upon the expedition against Quibe-
ron, Belleisle, and Ferrol. This expedition, as is well known, was all but useless,
as the French royalists, whom it was sent to aid, were too helpless to co-operate
with the invaders. The Ajax, having subsequently joined the fleet on the
Mediterranean station, under the command of Lord Keith, proceeded to Egypt
as part of the convoy of Abercromby's expedition for the expulsion of the Frencli
from that countr3r ; and on this occasion the professional talents of Captain
Cochrane were brought into full play. He was commissioned by Lord Keith
to superintend the landing of the British troops ; and this disembarkation,
performed so successfully in the face of so many difficulties, will ever constitute
a more important episode in history than a victory won in a pitched field. With
such admirable skill were the naval and military details of this process conducted,
and so harmoniously did the two services combine on the occasion, that a landing,
which on ordinary occasions might have been attended with utter defeat, or the
loss of half an army, was effected with only 20 sailors and 102 soldiers killed.
At the capture of Alexandria, by which the war in Egypt was successfully
terminated, Captain Cochrane, with a detachment of armed vessels, was stationed
on the lake IMoerotis, to protect the advance of the British troops upon the city, a
duty which he performed with his wonted ability. So valuable, indeed, had his
services been during the six months of the Egyptian campaign, that at the end
of it they Avere most honourably mentioned in the despatches of Lord Keith, as
well as those of General Hutchinson, by wliom Abercromby was succeeded.

SIR ALEXANDER FORRESTER INGLIS COCHRANE, G.C.B. I47

The peace of Amiens occasioned the x-et urn of the Ajax to England in Feln-u-
aiy, 1802, and Cochrane, with tlie true restlessness of a landed eailor, as well
as the true patriotism of a good British suliject, still wished to do some-
thing for his country. He accordingly turned his attention to Parliament, and
became a candidate for the representation of the united boroughs of Stirling,
Dunfermline, &c., at the general election that had now occuri-ed. As the votes
for Sir John Henderson, his antagonist, and himself were equal, a contest
ensued that was followed by petition, and the result was that in 1804, after a
long investigation, Cochrane"s election was confirmed. Two years after the
wind completely changed, for at the election of 180G Henderson was elected.
The quarter-deck, and not the hustings, was the proper arena for Cochrane. For-
tunately for him that arena he continued to occupy even during this period of
political altercation; for the peace, or rather hollow truce of Amiens was at an
end while the ink was scarcely dry upon the paper, and in 1803 he was ap-
pointed to the command of the Northumberland, 74; and in the following year
he was sent out, with the rank of rear-admiral, to watch the port of Ferrol,
in anticipation of a war with Spain. In 1805 he was commissioned to pursue
a French squadron that had stolen out of the blockaded port of Rochefort. Its
destination was unknown, but the most serious consequences were apprehended,
as it consisted of five ships-of-the-line, three frigates, two brigs, and a schooner,
and had 4000 troops on board. Cochrane went off with six ships-of-the-line in
pursuit of these dangerous fugitives, and after a long cruise, in which the coasts
of France and Spain, and the West India Islands, were successively visited and
explored, he found it impossible to come in sight of his nimble fear-stricken
adversaries : all that he could learn of their whereabouts was in the instances
of a few paltry captures they had made of British merchantmen, and their
throwing a supply of troops into the town of St. Domingo, The timidity of
this flying squadron was rewarded by a safe return to Rochefort, which they
effected in spite of the British cruisers that were sent in all directions to inter-
cept them. Admiral Cochrane then assumed the command of the Leeward
Islands station, and joined Lord Nelson in his active pursuit after the combined
fleets of France and Spain. In the following year (1806) he formed a junction
with Vice-Admiral Sir John G. Duckworth, for the pursuit of a French
squadron that had sailed from Brest to relieve the town of St. Domingo. On
this occasion the French were overtaken, and in the action that followed, and
which lasted nearly two hours, they were so utterly defeated, that of their five
ships-of-the-line two were burnt, and the other three captured : nothing escaped
but two frigates and a corvette. On this occasion Cochrane's ship, the North-
umberland, which had been in the Iiottest of the fire, had by far the greatest
number of killed and wounded, while himself had a narrow escape, liis hat
being kaocked off his head b^' a grape-shot. So important were his services on
this occasion, that he received the thanks of both Houses of Parliament, and of
the corporation of London; while the latter, not confining itself to verbal ac-
knowledgments, presented him with the honour of the city, and a sword of the
value of a hundred guineas. This was not all; for the underwriters at Bar-
badoes presented him with a piece of plate valued at £500 ; and the committee
of the Patriotic Fund at Lloyd's Avith a vase worth X300. The honour of
knighthood crowned these rewards of his highly-valued achievements, and on
the 29th of March, 180G, he was created Knight of the Bath. Nothing could
more highly attest the estimation in which his exploit at St. Domingo was held,

148 AKDREW COMBE, M.D.

than that so many acknowledgments should have rewarded it, at a season, too,
when gallant actions at sea were events of every-day occurrence.

Soon after, war was declared against Denmark ; and on hearing of this, Sir A.
Cochrane concerted measures with General Bowyer for the reduction of St.
Thomas, St. John's, and St. Croix, islands belonging to the Danish crown.
In a few months the whole were captured, along with a valuable fleet of Danish
merchantmen. His next service was in the reduction of Martinique, where he
co-operated with General Beckwith ; and for this acquisition, he and his gallant
land partner received the thanks of both Houses of Parliament. The reduction
of Guadaloupe followed, in which both commanders joined, and were equally
successful; and in 1810 Cochrane, in reward of his services, was appointed
governor and commander in chief of Guadaloupe and its dependencies. In this
situation he continued till 1813, when a war with the United States called hiiu
once more into action. He was appointed to the command of the fleet on the
coast of North America, and on assuming office, he shut up and watched the
ports of the United States with a most vigilant and effectual blockade. Soon
after this the universal peace ensued, which has only of late been terminated,
and in 1815 Sir Alexander Cochrane returned to England. He was raised to
the rank of full admiral in 1819, and held the office of commander-in-chief
at Plymouth from 1821 to 1824.

Tlie brave old admiral, like the rest of his cotemporaries of the land and sea
service, was now obliged to change a life of action for one of repose, and find
enjoyment in the tranquillity of home, and the pleasures of social intercourse.
In this manner he passed the rest of his days, honoured and beloved by all who
knew him. His death, which occurred at Paris, was fearfully sudden. Ac-
companied by his brother he went, on the morning of the 2Gth of January, 1832,
to visit his daughter, Lady Trowbridge, for the purpose of inviting his young
grand-children to an evening entertainment ; but while he was affectionately
caressing them he suddenly started, placed his hand on his left side, and ex-
claiming to Mr. Cochrane, " 0 brother, what a dreadful pain !" he fell back into
his arms, and instantly expired.

COMBE, Andrew, M.D. — This excellent physician and physiologist was th.e
fifteenth child, and seventh son of Mr. George Combe, brewer, at Livingston's
Yards, in the suburbs of Edinburgh, and Marion Newton, his wife, and was
born on the 27th of October, 1797. After being educated in the initiatory
branches at a private seminary, he was sent at the age of eight to the High
School of Edinburgh, and having continued there at the study of Latin and
Greek for five years, he went to the university, where, in the course of
two seasons, he contrived to forget what Latin he had learned at school, and
become a respectable Grecian, But with all this teaching of dead languages,
his own was allowed to shift as it might, so that, although he could read Home;-,
he was unable to pen a tolerable ordinary epistle. Like many others under a
similar process of teaching, and who have risen to distinction in the world cf
authorship in spite of such a perverted education, Andrew Combe, by the
diligent self-cultivation of after years, acquired that mastery of the English
language and excellence in composition, which his works so fully attest. After
he had passed a sickly taciturn boyhood, and entered his fifteenth year, it
was fitting that he should announce the future profession he meant to follow;
but to every question on this head from his parents, his invariable answer was,
" I'll no be naething." They understood these two negatives in the Scottish

ANDREW COMBE, M.D. 149

acceptation, of course, and reckoning such a choice inexpedient in one of a family
of seventeen children, his father chose for him the medical profession, into which
tlie apatlietic youtli was to be inducted without further delay. Accordingly,
in spite of all his struggles, Andrew was forced into a new suit of clothes, carried
out of the house, and trotted along, by dint of pulling and pushing, to tho
dwelling of his future master, where he was bound and left — to an apprentice-
ship which he had no subsequent cause to regret.

After finishing his apprenticeship, during wliich he attended the usual
medical course at the university and the public hospital, Andrew Combe, when
he had entered upon his twentieth year, took the diploma of surgeon. Previous
to this event his intellectual habits had received not only a fresh impulse, but
also a new direction from the study of phrenology, which was inti'oduced into
Edinburgh through the arrival and lectures of Dr. Spurzheini. Of this science
Mr. George Combe, afterwards its distinguished advocate, became an earnest
student, and his younger brother Andrew was not long in following the example.
The latter, however, when he had little more than commenced his inquiries in
earnest upon the subject, went to Paris in 1817 to perfect himself in his profes-
sional studies. The Continent was now opened to Britain by the general peace,
and our medical students were eager to avail themselves of the opportunity by
completing their education in the French capital. Among the Parisian lecturers
on the various departments of science whom Andrew Combe attended for this
purpose, he was so fortunate as to be a pupil of Professor Dupuytren, to whose
lesson^ so many of our most eminent physicians have been so deeply indebted.
He also frequently associated in Paris with Dr. Spurzheim, by whom he was
completely converted to a belief in that science by whose rules all his future
habits of investigation were more or less directed. As this was a most important
event in his life, it may be proper to give his own account of it: — "My attention
was first seriously turned to the examination of these doctrines during my resi-
dence at Paris, in the autumn of 1818, when Dr. Spurzheim's 'Observations
sur la Phrenologie,' then just published, were happily put into my hands at a
time when, from there being no lectures in any of the Parisian schools, I had
ample leisure to peruse that work deliberately. I had not proceeded far before
I became impressed with the acuteness and profundity of many of the author's
remarks on the varied phenomena of human nature, and with the simplicity of
the principles by which he explained what had previously seemed contradictory
and unintelligible ; and in proportion as I advanced, the scrupulousness of
statement, sobriety of judgment, and moral earnestness with which he advocated
his views and inculcated their importance, made me begin to apprehend that to
condemn without inquiry was not the way to ascertain the truth of phrenology,
or to become qualified to decide in a matter of medicine or of philosophy. 1
therefore resolved to pause, in order to make myself acquainted with tlie prin-
ciples of the new physiology, and to resort, as he [Dr. Spurzheim] recommended,
to observation and experience for Hie means of verifying or disproving their
accuracy, before again hazarding an opinion on the subject." Thus prepared
for examination and conviction, he examined and was convinced. After two
years of such study the following conclusion was the result :— "Actuated by
the natural feeling of improbability that so much should have been discovered
in so short time by only two individuals, however eminent their talents and
felicitous their opportunities, I still expected to meet with some important
errors of detail ; and, so far from being disposed to adopt implicit!}' all the pro-

150

ANDREW COMBE, M.D.

positions of Drs. Gall and Spurzheim, I ratlier looked for, and expected to find,
some hasty conclusions or unsupported assumptions ; and my surprise was
extreme, to discover that, in the whole extent of their inquiry, they had pro-
ceeded with so much caution and accuracy as, in all their essential facts and
inferences, to have rendered themselves apparently invulnerable." At the early
age of twenty-one he thus became a firm believer in phrenology, artd, unlike
many others of his cotemporaries, he continued to believe in its principles and
apply its rules to the last.

After a course of diligent study at Paris continued for nearly two years, and
a tour through Switzerland, he returned to Edinburgh at the close of 1819. He
was now ready, as far as professional knowledge and the encouragement of
friends went, for the commencement of business as a medical practitioner; but,
unfortunately, he needed for himself the aid which he should have imparted to
others. In his rambles in Switzerland he had over-tasked his strength, and on
returning to Edinburgh, a cold room and damp bed confirmed the evil. A
voj'age to Italy was judged necessary for his recovery, and he embarked at
Greenock for Leghorn at the end of the following year. The cure was effectual,
for he returned to Edinburgh in May, 1822, and soon after commenced practice
as a surgeon, while his extensive family connection, and the reputation he had
already acquired, soon procured him an extensive circle of occupation. At this
time, also, he first appeared before the world as an author, in an essay "On the
Effects of Injuries of the Brain upon the Dilanifestations of the Mind," which
was first read before the Phrenological Society, and afterwards published
in its " Transactions." In this way, he brought his beloved science into full
play at the commencement of his public life, not only in a literary but also a
professional capacity, notwithstanding the obloquy and derision with which it
was generally treated at this period. And this integrity was not without its
reward. " My advocacy of phrenology," he stated, in a lecture before the
Andersonian Institution of Glasgow, "did not prove any impediment in my
professional career ; on the contrary, it in many respects extended my field of
usefulness, and greatly contributed to my happiness, by giving a more definite
and consistent direction to the faculties which I possess. No doubt, some who
might otherwise have employed me, were at first deterred by their prejudices
from doing so ; but their place was more than supplied by others, who, in their
turn, would not have sought m}^ advice except for phrenology; and ere long
many even of the prejudiced ventured to return, and ultimately took place

among my warmest friends In the private relations of life, also, I

have derived the utmost advantage from the lights of phrenology, and have
gained a firmer hold on the confidence of my patients, by pointing out to them
its great practical value in conducting the intellectual and moral training of the
young, in promoting mutual forbearance and general kindness of intercourse,
and thereby adding to their general means of happiness." In 1823, while the
phrenological controversy was at its height, fir. Combe again entered the field
in its defence, by an essay entitled, " Observations on Dr. Barclay's Objections
to Phrenology," which was also published in the " Transactions" of the Society.
In the same year he, in conjunction with four others, established the " Phre-
nological Journal," to which he was an active contributor till his death. In
inSG, he collected the most important of these articles, and published them in a
separate volume. Eager to extend the knowledge of a science to which he was
so devoted, and justify its claims to universal attention, he also hazarded their

ANDREW COMBE, M.D. 151

introduction into a quarter ^Yhere they were little likely to appear without a
severe examination. This was in the Roj'al Medical Society of Edinburgh, ot
which he was a member, and before which he was obliged in his turn to write
a dissertation upon a subject selected by a committee of the society. The
question proposed in 1823 was, " Does Phrenology afford a satisfactory expla-
nation of the Ivloral and Intellectual Faculties of Man? " and ]Mr. Combe was
appropriately selected to write the dissertation. He set to work upon the ques-
tion coil amore, and produced a digest of all he had learned, thought, and
observed, to bear upon the affirmative, Avhile the discussions that followed upon
the subject occupied two nights of earnest debate before crowded audiences.
This able article, which was first published in the " Phrenological Journal,"
was also included in the volume of selections to which we have already alluded.
In 1825, he graduated as Doctor of Medicine, and on that occasion chose for
the subject of his thesis, " The Seat and Nature of Hypochondriasis," which
was also published in an enlarged form in the " Phrenological Journal," and
the " Selections."

In commencing the medical art, first as surgeon and afterwards as doctor.
Combe was made aware of two faults which, in his course of practice, he care-
fully laboured to avoid. The first was the practice of never interposing until
the crisis of danger had arrived. No rules were prescribed, either to avoid a
disease or escape the repetition of an attack after the first had been conquered.
As long as the patient was upon his legs he might use what diet or exercise he
pleased: upon all this the man of healing was silent; he thought it enough to
come in at the moment of danger, and treat the sufferer secundum artem until
the danger was over, without troubling himself about the morrow; and if fresh
excesses produced a deadlier renewal of the malady, he was ready to double the
dose, and proportion the penance to the evil. The homely proverb, that " pre-
vention is better than cure," was too vulgar a rule for scientific notice ; and it
was only when the disease fairly showed face that a doctor girded himself for
the onset. This was anything but satisfactory to Dr. Combe ; and, in his treat-
ment of every malady, he was more solicitous to prevent its occurrence than
to show his professional prowess by overcoming it at its height; and if the
constitution of the patient made the disease a natural tendency, his medical
skill was exerted in showing how the coming of the evil might be retarded, or
its inflictions softened. Hence his carefulness in inculcating the rules of diet
and exercise, of ablution and ventilation, which, homelj' and common-place as
they are, and therefore deemed unsuited to a learned physician, are yet the true
essentials of the healing art. Another fault which he was also careful to avoid,
was that of dictating to the patient the medical regulations tliat were to be
strictly followed, without assigning a cause, or enlisting his reason in their
behalf. A blind, implicit faith was exclusively demanded by too many of our
medical practitioners, and the remedy was to be used without question or
scruple. Dr. Combe saw that, however this pope-like assumption of infallibility
might gratify the vanity of the physician, it was little likely to benefit the
patient, more especially if his faith Avas of that unruly kind that requires argu-
ment and proof. He therefore tried to enlist the reason of the patient in behalf
of the rules prescribed for his cure, and showed so much of the nature, origin,
and tendencies of the disease as would enable him to co-operate in its removal.
" The consequences of this mode of proceeding," says his biographer, " were
equally beneficial to his patients and to himself. They became convinced that

152 ANDREW COMBE, M.D.

it was nature that was dealing with them, and that, althoiigli they might
' cheat the doctor,' they could not arrest the progress of her evolutions, or escape
from aggi'avated evils, if they obstructed the course of her sanative action.
Under these convictions, they obej'ed his injunctions with earnestness and
attention. By being premonished of approaching symptoms, whicli were fre-
quently steps in the progress of the cure, but which, if not explained, might
have been regarded as aggravations of the malady, tliey were saved from much
alarm, and he from many unnecessary calls and attendances. His present bio-
grapher had ample opportunities of remarking how few messages, even during
the busiest seasons of his practice, came to him from patients under treatment,
and how very rarely he was called upon to visit them during the night. He
ascribed this comparative immunity from nocturnal calls to the explanations
and pre arrangements now adverted to."

It was not till 1831 that Dr. Combe appeared as the author of a separate
work, as his productions had hitherto been articles and essays, which were
afterwards published in the form of pamphlets. Among the subjects he had
studied in connection with phrenology, was that of insanity ; and from its im-
portance, as well as the general interest which several cases of mental disease
had lately excited, he resolved to give at full length the fruits of his study on
this painful malady, with a view to its prevention, amelioration, and cure. The
title of the work he published was, " Observations on Mental Derangement ;
being an application of the Principles of Phrenology to the elucidation of ths
Causes, Symptoms, Nature, and Treatment of Insanity." After this his close
application to professional duties, in which he embarked with his whole heart,
and the physiological studies that occupied every moment of his leisure time,
so exhausted his delicate constitution, that intermission and change of climate
were again found necessary ; and accordingly he spent the winter of 1831-32 in
Italy, and the following year in Edinburgh, London, and Paris. In 1834,
though his health was still infirm, he published in Edinburgh " The Principles
of Physiology applied to the Preservation of Health, and to the Improvement of
Physical and Mental Education." This work was so favourably received, and
continued to be so highly valued, that at the period of his death 28,000 copies
of it had been sold, exclusive of the numerous editions that had been published
in the United States of North America. So highly was Dr. Combe's professional
reputation now established, that in 183G he was honoured with the appointment
of Physician to the King of the Belgians. This occasioned two visits to Brus-
sels during the same year. At the same time he published his " Physiology of
Digestion, considered with relation to the Principles of Dietetics," which went
through nine editions. In 1838 Dr. Combe was appointed one of the Physi-
cians Extraordinary to the Queen in Scotland, an office of professional honour
merely, as no salary is attached to it. In 1840 he published " A Treatise on
the Physiological and Moral Management of Infancy; being a practical expo-
sition of the Principles of Infant Training, for the use of Parents." Tiiis work,
which was highly esteemed, and obtained an extensive circulation, he continued
to improve till his death. His last effort in authorship was an article on phre-
nology, which was published in the " British and Foreign Medical Review " for
January, 1840.

Enough has been said in the foregoing narrative to show that Dr. Combe, al-
though so able a physician, was himself often in need of the benefits of the heal-
ing art. Originally of a delicate and consumptive constitution, through which

tlie activity and application of his early youth had been frequently checked,
his maladies had increased from year to year, so that in 1834 he was obhged to
renounce the more active part of his profession, and confine himself to consult-
ing- practice. Ilis constitution rallied in consequence of this relief, and from
1037 to 1841 he enjoyed a better state of health than he had hitherto expe-
rienced. At a later period, however, his ailments returned, and v,-ith so per-
manent a hold, as convinced him that, iiowcver lingering his last illness might
be, it had now commenced in good earnest. Stili, however, his wonted tran-
quillit}', and even cheerfulness, were unabated ; and to the last he continued to
correspond with his friends upon those important subjects which had formed the
great study of his life. At length, by the recommendation of his medical advisers,
he tried the effect of the climate of Madeira, to which island he repaired in Novem-
ber 1042. After having dwelt a few months there and returned home, he was
obliged to make a second visit to Madeira, where he wintered during 1843-4i. As
voyaging was found beneficial in protracting at least the inevitable termination
of his disease, he tried the effect of a trip to New York in the spring of 1847.
But this, the last, was the most unfortunate of all his voyages, for the vessel in
which he sailed carried 8G0 steerage passengers, chiefly Irish emigrants ; and as
tiie steerage extended from stem to stern of the vessel, the cabin overhead was per-
vaded during the whole passage with a sickening atmosphere, the effect of which
accelerated his dissolution. Having made a three weeks' sojourn in New York,
he returned to Scotland ; and only six weeks subsequently he died, after a short
illness, on the 9th of August, 1847. He had thus only reached the age of fifty,
but the chief subject of wonder is, that he had lived so long and done so much.
He could never have held out so well but for his close and conscientious" atten-
tion to those rules of health which he recommended to others ; and thus, al-
though he might be considered a dying man at the age of confirmed manhood, he
was permitted to enjoy that which, above every other earthly blessing, he most
valued— a life of thorough and benevolent usefulness. Even to the last he v^-as
thus occupied ; and when the pen dropped from his fingers, it was in the act of
writing to a friend for information about the regulations of emigrant vessels, as
he was at that time employed, during the brief intervals of his last illness, in
preparing a communication upon the ship-fever, which in that year was so
fiital in the statistics of British emigration. " Dr. Combe belonged," as is well
observed by one wlio intimately knew and deeply loved him, "to that rare
class of physicians who present professional knowledge in connection with the
powers of a philosophical intellect; and yet, in practical matters, appear con-
stantly under the guidance of a rich natural sagacity. All his works are marked
by a peculiar earnestness, lucidit}-, and simplicity, characteristic of the author;
they present hygienic principles, with a clearness for which we know no parallel
in medical literature. To this must be ascribed much of the extraordinarx-
success they have met with; and on this quality, undoubtedly rests no small
portion of their universally acknowledged utility. . , . The personal cha-
racter and private life of Dr. Combe formed a beautiful and harmonious com-
mentary upon his writings. In the bosom of his family, and the limited social
circle to which his weakly health confined him, he was the same benig-
nant and gentle being whom the world finds addressing it in these compo-
sitions Kindly and cordial to all, he did not seem to feel as if he

could have an enemy; and therefore, we believe, he never had one. It might
almost have been said that he was too gentle and unobtrusive ; and so his frieilds,

V. u

15i EEV. GEORGE COOK, D.D.

l^erhaps, would have thought him, had it not, on the other hand, appeared as
the most befitting character of one who, they all knew, was not to be long
spared to them, and on whom the hues of a brighter and more angelic being
seemed already to be shed."

COOK, Rev. George, D.D. — This learned divine and ecclesiastical historian
was born at St. Andrews in 1773. His education was conducted at the schools
and colleges of his native city, at that time distinguished for its high literary
character and the eminent men it produced, while his subsequent career fully
showed how well he had availed himself of such opportunities of mental im-
provement. From the early period of boyhood, the studies of George Cook
had been directed towards the church, in which his family had considerable
influence; and at the age of twenty-two he was ordained minister of Laurence-
kirk, Kincardineshire. On settling down into such a tranquil residence, the
young divine did 'not resign himself either to rural indolence or literary epi-
curism; on the contrary, his studies were of the most laborious, indefatigable
character, as well as directed to the highest interests of his sacred profession;
and it was while minister of Laurencekirk that he produced most of those
works by which his fame was extended over the world of ecclesiastical litera-
ture. As an author, his first work, .published in 1808, was " Illustrations of
the general Evidence establishing Christ's Resurrection." His next, in 1811,
was the " History of the Reformation," the most popular of all his works, until
it was eclipsed by the more attractive productions upon the same subject at a
later period, and by writers possessing more ample opportunities of information,
of whom we need scarcely mention the name of D'Aubigne. After this work
in general ecclesiastical history. Dr. Cook turned his attention to that part of it
which concerned his own church and country, and published, in 1815, the
" History of the Church of Scotland, from the Reformation to the Revolution,"
a work in which the research was of the most trying character, so many of the
materials being at that time in obscure, moth-eaten manuscript, which have
since been printed mainly through the public spirit of our antiquarian societies.
In 1820 appeared his "Life of Principal Hill," and in 1822 his "View of
Christianity."

The learning and talent displayed in these Avorks, as well as the important
subjects which they illustrated, and the high interests which they were designed
to advance, naturally brouglit Dr. Cook into the front rank of the most talented
of his clerical brethren, and in church courts his opinions obtained that as-
cendancy to which they were so justly entitled. To these also were added the
highest honorary distinctions which our primitive national church, so jealous
of the doctrine of Presbyterian parity, reluctantly accords to the most favoured
of her children. Thus, in 1825, he was moderator of the General Assembly, and
in the following year he was appointed a member of the royal commission for
examining into the state of our Scottish universities. He was also appointed
dean of the order of the Thistle, and one of his Majesty's chaplains.

On the death of Dr. Inglis, which occurred in 1834, the leadership of his
party in the church, which that eminent divine had so ably conducted, was by
imiversal choice conceded to Dr. Cook. Always a situation of difficulty and
trouble, even in the most quiescent periods of our church's history, it was pecu-
liarly so at the present crisis; for the Moderate party, which Dr. Cook headed,
and that for so long a period had been in the ascendency, had now lost its pres-
tige; and the evangelical portion of the church, already increased from a handful

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 155

into an armj^ and backed by the popular suffrage, which had alwaj's inclined
to it since the days of the Solemn League and Covenant, was advancing with all
the energy of a newly resuscitated cause, and giving certain promise that at no
distant day it would recover the superiority which it had formerly enjoyed.
Against such an onward tide it was not wonderful if Dr. Cook and his brethren
were unable to make head, although they struggled bravely and to the last.
Consistently with the principles which he had adopted from the beginning, and
advocated on every occasion, both as an author and a divine, Dr. Cook could
not be expected to sympathize with the opposite party in their claims for the
abolition of patronage, and the entire exemption of the Church from State
control, and accordingly he contested every step of ground with a zeal and
honesty equal to their own. At length the result took him as completely by
surprise as it did the wisest politicians and profoundest calculators of the day.
The memorable 18th of May, 1843, occurred, on which the disruption of the Kirk
of Scotland took place ; and when, after it had been confidently asserted that
not even twenty ministers would abandon their livings, nearly five hundred
rose from their places in the General Assembly, bade a final farewell to the
Established Church, with which they could no longer conscientiously agree, and
departed to form, at whatever sacrifice or risk, a church more consistent with
their principles. It was a melancholy spectacle, a stunning blow to the upright
affectionate heart of the leader of the Moderates. The labours of his past public
life were thus destroyed by a single stroke, and while history recorded the cala-
mitous event, he must have guessed that it would reproach hiai as one of the
chief causes of the evil. And besides, inthat departing train, whose self sacrificing
devotedness he was well disposed to acknowledge, how many were there whom he
had revered for their commanding talents, and loved for their piety and worth,
but who were now lost for ever to the church with which he was identified, and
whom he must henceforth meet or pass by as the ministers of a rival and hostile
cause! Such to Dr. Cook was the disruption; and, although his own party
exonerated him from blame, while his church still continued as before to be
directed by his counsels, the rest of his life was clouded by the recollection of
an event which the best men, whether of the Free or Established Cliurcli, will
never cease to regret.

The latter years of Dr. Cook's life were spent at St. Andrews, as he had been
appointed to the chair of Moral Philosophy in its university, in the room of
Dr. Chalmers, when the latter was called to Edinburgh. Here his end was
sudden, his death having been instantaneous, and occasioned by the rupture of
a blood-vessel, while he was walking in the Kirk Wynd, on his way to the
college library. This melancholy event occurred on the forenoon of the 13th
of May, 1845. It is much to be regretted that a man of such talent and worth
should as yet have found no biographer among the many who, while he lived,
availed themselves of his counsels, and were proud to be numbered among his
friends. It is not yet too late.

CUNNINGHAM, Allan.— This distinguished poet entered the world under
those lowly circumstances, and was educated under those disadvantages, which
have so signally characterized the history of the best of our Scottish bards. He
was born at Blackwood, in Dumfriesshire, in 1785, and was the fourth son of
his parents, who v»-ere persons in the humblest ranks of life. One circumstance,
however, connected with his ancestry, must have gratified the Tory and feudal
predilections of Allan Cunningham; for his family had been of wealth and

15G ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

worsiiip, until one of his forefathers lost the patrimonial estate, by sluing with
i\Iontrose during the wars of the Common wealtli. A more useful ch'cumstance for
his future career was his father's love of Scottish antiquaiianism, which induced
iiimto hoard up every tale, ballad, and legend connected with his native country —
a love which Allan quickly acquired and successfully prosecuted. Like the
children of tlie Scottish peasantry, he was sent to school at a very early age ;
but he does not seem to have been particularly fortunate in the two teachers
tinder whom he was successively trained, for they were stern Cameronians; and
it was probably under their scrupulous and over-strict discipline that he acquired
tliat tendency to laugh at religious ascetism which so often breaks out in his
v.-ritings. He was removed from this undesirable tuition at the tender age of
eleven, and bound apprentice to a stone-mason; but he still could enjoy the
benefit of his father's instructions, whom he describes as possessing " a warm
heart, lively fancy, benevolent humour, and pleasant happy wit." Another
source of training which the young apprentice enjoyed, was tlie " trystes " and
'• rockings " so prevalent in his day — rural meetings, in which the mind of
Burns himself was prepared for the high office of being the national poet of
Scotland. The shadows of these delightful " ploys" still linger in Nithsdale,
and some of the more remote districts of Ayrshire; and it is pleasing to recal
them to memory, for the sake of those great minds they nursed, before they
have passed away for ever. They were complete trials of festivity and wit;,
where to sing a good song, tell a good story, or devise a happy impromptu, was
the great aim of the lads and lasses, assembled from miles around to the peat fire
of a kitchen hearth; and where the corypheus of the joyful meeting was the
"long-remembered beggar" of the district; one who possessed more songs and
tales than all the rest of the country besides, and who, on account of tlie treasures
of this nature, which he freely imparted, was honoured as a public benetactoi-,
and preferred to the best seat in the circle, instead of being regarded as a j)ublic
burden. But the schoolmaster and the magistrate are now abroad; and while
the rockings are fast disappearing, the Edie Ochiltree who inspired them is
dying in the alms-house. May they be succeeded in this age of improving
change by better schools and more rational amusements I

Wliile the youth of Allan Cunningham was trained under this tuition, he
appears also to have been a careful reader of every book that came within his
reach. This is evident from the multifarious knowledge which his earliest jiro-
ductions betokened. He had also commenced the writing of poetry at a very
early period, having been inspired by the numerous songs and ballads with
which the poetical district of Nithsdale is stored. When about the age of
eighteen, he seems to have been seized with an earnest desire to visit the
Ettrick Shepherd, at that time famed as a poet, but whose early chances of such
distinction had scarcely equalled his own ; and forth accordingly he set off in
this his first pilgrimage of hero-worship, accompanied by an elder brother. The
meeting Hogg has fully described in his "Reminiscences of Former Days;"
and he particularizes Allan as " a dark ungainly youth of about eiglitcen, with
a boardly frame for his age, and strongly marked manly features — the very
model of Burns, and exactly such a man." The stripling poet, who stood at a
bashful distance, was introduced to the Shepherd by his brother, who added,
" Yon will be so kind as excuse this intrusion of ours on your solitude, for, in
truth, I could get no peace either night or day with Allan till I consented to
come and see you." " I then stepped down the liill," continues Hogg, *' to

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 157

where Allan Cunningham still stood, with his weather-beaten cheek toward
nic, and seizing his hard brawny hand, I gave it a hearty shake, saying some-
tliing as kind as I was able, and, at the same time, I am sure, as stupid as it
possibly could be. From that moment wc were friends; for Allan has none of
the proverbial Scottish caution about him; he is all heart together, without
]esei've either of expression or manner : you at once see the unaffected bene-
volence, warmth of feeling, and firm independence of a man conscious of his
own rectitude and mental energies. Young as he was, I had heard of his name,
although slightly, and I think seen two or three of his juvenile pieces." , .
, . " I had a small bothy upon the hill, in which I took my breakfast and
dinner on wet days, and rested mj'self. It was so small that we had to walk
in on all-fours ; and when we were in we could not get up our heads any way
but in a sitting posture. It was exactly my own length, and, on the one side,
I had a bed of rushes, which served likewise as a seat ; on this we all three s;it
dovv'n, and there we spent the whole afternoon ; and, I am sure, a happier group
of three never met on the hill of Quecnsberry. Allan brightened up prodigiously
after he got into the dark bothy, repeating all his early pieces of poetry, and
part of his brother's to me." .... " From that day forward I failed not
to improve my acquaintance Avith the Cunninghams. I visited them several
times at Dalswinton, and never missed an opportunity of meeting v.ith Allan,
when it was in my power to do so. I was astonished at the luxuriousness of his
fancy. It was boundless; but it was the luxury of a rich garden overrun with
rampant weeds. lie was likewise then a great mannerist in expression, and no
man could mistake his verses for those of any other man. I remember seeing
some imitations of Ossian by him, Nvhich I thought exceedingly good; and it
struck me that that stylo of composition was peculiarly fitted for his vast and
fervent imagination."

Such is the interesting sketch which Hogg has given us of the early life and
character of a brother poet and congenial spirit. The full season at length arrived
when Allan Cunningham was to burst from his obscurity as a mere rural bard,
and emerge into a more public sphere. Cromek, to the full as enthusiastic an
admirer of Scottish poetry as himself, was collecting his well-known relics; and
in the course of his quest, young Cunningham was pointed out as one who could
efficiently aid him in the w-ork. Allan gladly assented to the task of gathering
and preserving these old national treasures, and in due time presented to the
zealous antiquary a choice colltction of apparently old songs and ballads, which
were inserted in the " Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song," published in
1010. But the best of these, and especially the " Mermaid of Galloway," v>-ere
the production of Cunningham's own pen. This Hogg at once discovered as
soon as the collection appeared, and he did not scruple in proclaiming to all his
literary friends that " Allan Cunningham was the author of all that was beauti-
ful in the work." He communicated his convictions also to Sir Walter Scott,
who was of the same opinion, and expressed his fervent wish that such a valu-
able and original young man were fairly out of Cromek's hands. Resolved that
the world should know to whom it was really indebted for so much fine poetry,
Hogg next wrote a critique upon Cromek'spublication, which he sent to the "Edin-
burgh Review ;" but although Jeffrey was aware of the ritsG wdiich Cunningham
lad practised, he did not think it worthy of exposure. In this strange literary
escapade, the poet scarcely appears to merit the title of "honest Allan," which
Sir Walter Scott subsequently bestowed upon him, and rather to deserve the

15S . ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

doubtful place held by sucli writers as Chatterton, Ireland, and Macplierson.
It niust, however, be observed in extenuation, that Cunningham, by passing off
his own productions as remains of ancient Scottish song, compromised no vene-
rated names, as the others had done. He gave them only as anonymous verses,
to which neitlier date nor author could be assigned. '

In the same year that Cromek's "Remains" were published (1810), Allan
Cunningliam abandoned his humble and unhealthy occupation, and repaired to
the great arena of his aspiring young countrymen. London was thenceforth to
be his home. lie had reached the age of twenty-five, was devoted heart and
soul to intellectual labour, and felt within himself the capacity of achieving
something higher than scparing stones and erecting country cottages. Oa
settling in London, he addressed himself to the duties of a literary adventurer
with energy and success, so that his pen was seldom idle ; and among the journals
to which he was a contributor, may be mentioned the " Literary Gazette," the
" London Magazine," and the " Athenffium," Even this, at the best, was pre-
carious, and will often desert the most devoted industry ; but Cunningham,
fortunately, had learned a craft upon which he was not too proud to fall back
should higher resources forsake him. Chantrey, the eminent statuary, was in
want of a foreman, who combined artistic imagination and taste with mechanicrJ
skill and experience ; and what man could be better fitted for the office than
the mason, poet, and journalist, who had now established for himself a consider-
able literary reputation among the most distinguished writers in London ? A
union was formed betv.'een the pair that continued till death ; and the appearance
of these inseparables, as they continued from j^ear-to year to grow in celebrity,
the one as a sculptor and the other as an author, seldom failed to arrest the
attention of the good folks of Pimlico, as they took their daily walk from
the studio in Ecclestone Street to the foundry in the Mews. Although the
distance was considerable, as well as a public thoroughfare, they usually walked
bareheaded; wliile the short figure, small round face, and bald head of the artist
v.-ere strikingly contrasted with the tall stalwart form, dark bright eyes, and
large sentimental countenance of the poet. The duties of Cunningham, in the
capacity of " friend and assistant," as Chantrey was wont to term him, were
sufficiently multifarious ; and of these, the superintendence of the artist's exten-
sive workshop was not the least. The latter, although so distinguished as a
statuary, had obtuse feelings and a limited imagination, while those of Cunning-
ham were of the highest order : the artist's reading had been very limited, but
that of the poet was extensive and in every department. Cunningham was,
therefore, as able in suggesting graceful attitudes in figures, picturesque folds in
draperies, and new proportions for pedestals, as Chantrey was in executing them,
and in this way the former was a very Mentor and muse to the latter. Besides
all this, Cunningham recommended his employer's productions through the
medium of tlie press, illustrated their excellencies, and defended them against
maligners ; fought his battles against rival committees, and established his
claims wlien they would have been sacrificed in favour of some inferior artist.
Among the other methods by which Chantrey's artistic reputation was thus
established and diffused abroad, may be mentioned a sketch of his life and an
account of his works, published in "Blackwood's Magazine" for April, 1820,
and a critique in the "Quarterly" for 102G ; both of these articles being
from the pen of Allan Cunningham. The poet Avas also the life of the artist's
studio, by his rich enlivening conversation, and his power of illustrating the

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 159

various busts and statues which the building containeJ, so that it was sometimes
difficult to tell whether the living man or tlie high delineations of art possessed
most attraction for many among its thousands of visitors. In this way also the
highest in rank and the most distinguished in talent were brought into daily
intercourse with him, from among whom he could select the characters he
most preferred for friendship and acquaintance.

Among the illustrious personages with whom his connection with Chantrey
brought him into contact, the most gratifying of all to the mind of Cunningham
must have been the acquaintance to which it introduced him with Sir Walter
Scott. We have already seen how devout a hero-worshipper he was, by the
visit he paid to the Ettrick Shepherd. Under the same inspiration, while still
working as a stone-mason in Nithsdale, he once walked to Edinburgh, for the
privilege of catching a glimpse of the author of " Marmion "' as he passed along
the public street. In 1820, when Cunningham had himself become' a distin-
guished poet and miscellaneous writer, he came in personal contact with the
great object of his veneration, in consequence of being the bearer of a request
from Chantrey, that he would allow a bust to be taken of him. The meeting-
was highly characteristic of both parties. Sir Walter met his visitor with both
hands extended, for the purpose of a cordial double shake, and gave a hearty
"Allan Cunningham, I am glad to see you." The other stammered out tome-
thing about the pleasure he felt in touching the hand that had charmed him so
much. " Ay," said Scott moving the member, witli one of his pawky smiles,
" and a big brown hand it is." He then complimented the bard of Nithsdale
upon his ballads, and entreated him to try something of still higher consequence
" for dear auld Scotland's sake," quoting these words of Burns. The result of
Cunningham's immediate mission was the celebrated bust of Sir Walter Scott
by Chantrey; a bust which not only gives the external semblance, but expresses
the very character and soul of the mighty magician, and that will continue
through late generations to present his likeness as distinctly as if he still moved
among them.

The acquaintanceship thus auspiciously commenced, was not allowed to lie
idle; and while it materially benefited the family of Cunningham, it also served
at once to elicit and gratify the warm-hearted benevolence of Sir Walter. The
event is best given in the words of Locldiart, Sir Walter Scott's son-in-law and
biographer. " Breakfasting one morning (this was in the summer of 1820)
with Allan Cunningham, and commending one of his publications, he looked
round the table, and said, ' What are you going to make of all these boys,
Allan? ' ' I ask that question often at my own heart,' said Allan, 'and I can-
not answer it.' ' What does the eldest point tol ' ' The callant would fain be
a soldier. Sir Walter— and I have half a promise of a commission in tlie King's
army for him ; but I wish rather he would go to India, for there the pay is a
maintenance, and one does not need interest at every step to get on.' Scott
dropped the subject, but went an hour afterwards to Lord Melville (who was
now president of the Board of Control), and begged a cadetship for young Cun-
nigham. Lord Melville promised to inquire if he had one at his disposal, in
which case he would gladly serve the son of honest Allan ; but the point being
thus left doubtful, Scott, meeting Mr. John Loch, one of the East India directors,
at dinner the same evening, at Lord Stafford's, applied to him, and received an
immediate assent. On reaching home at night, he found a note from Lord
Melville, intimating that he had inquired, and was happy in complying with

]G0 ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

his request. Next morning Siv "Walter appeared at Sir F. Chantroy's break-
fast-table, and greeted the sculptor (who is a brother of the angle) with 'I sup-
pose it has sometimes happened to you to catch one trout (which was all you
thought of) witli tlie fly, and another with the bobber. I have done so, and 1
think I shall land them both. Don't you think Cunningham would like very
well to have cadetships for two of those fine lads?' 'To be sure he would, '
said Chantre\', 'and if you'll secure the commissions, I'll make the outfit easy. *
Great was the joy in Allan's household on tliis double good news; but I should
add, that before the thing was done he had to thank another benefactor. Lord
Iilelville, after all, went out of the Board of Control before he had been able to
fulfil his promise ; but his successor. Lord Ellenborough, on hearing the cir-
cumstances of the case, desired Cunningham to set liis mind at rest; and both
his 3'oung men ai'c now prospering in the India service."

By being thus established in Chantrey's employ, and having a salary sufficient
for his v.-ants, Allan Cunningham was released from the necessity of an entire depen -
dence on authorship, as well as from the extreme precariousness with which it is
gcnerallyaccompanied, especially in London. He did not, however, on that account
relapse into the free and easy life of a mere dilettanti writer. On the contrary,
these advantages seem only to have stimulated him to further exertion, so that, to
the very end of his days, he was not onl}' a diligent, laborious student, but a cor-
tiuually improving author. Mention has already been made of the wild exu-
berance that characterized his earliest efforts in poetr3\ Hogg, whose sentiments
on this head we have already seen, with equal justice characterizes its after
progress. "Mr. Cunningham's st^'le of poetry is greatly changed of late for
the better. I have never seen any style improved so much. It is free of all
that crudencss and mannerism that once marked it so decidedly. lie is now
uniformly lively, serious, descriptive, or pathetic, as he changes his subject ;
but formerly he jumbled all these together, as in a boiling caldron, and when
once he began, it was impossible to calculate Avhere or when he was going to
end." Scott, who will be reckoned a higher authority, is still louder in praise
of Cunningham, and declared that some of his songs, especially that of " It's
hame, and it's hame," were equal to Burns. But although his fame commenced
with his poetry, and will ultimately rest mainly upon it, he was a still more
voluminous prose writer, and in a variety of departments, as the following list of
his chief works will sufficiently show : —

" Sir Marmaduke Maxwell,' ' a drama. This production Cunningham designed
for the stage, and sent it in M.S., in 1B20, to Sir Walter Scott for his perusal
and approbation. But the judgment formed of it was, that it was a beautiful
dramatic poem rather than a play, and therefore better fitted for the closet than
the stage. In this opinion every reader of "Sir Marmaduke ]\Iaxwell" will
coincide, more especially when he takes into account the complexity of the plot,
and the capricious manner in which the interest is shifted.

"Paul Jones," a novel; "Sir IMichael Scott," a novel. Although Cunning-
ham had repressed the wildness of his imagination in poetry, it still worked
madly within him, and evidently required a safety-valve after being denied ita
legitimate outlet. No one can be doubtful of the fact who peruses these novels ;
for not only do they drive truth into utter fiction, but fiction itself into the all
but unimaginable. This is especially the case with the last of these works, in
which the extravagant dreams of the Pythagorean or the Bramin are utterly
oat heroded. Hence, notwithstanding the beautiful ideas and profusion

DAVID DALE. IGl

of stirring events with which they are stored— enough, indeeJ, to have furnished
a wliole stock of novels and romances — tliey never became favourites with tlie
pubhc, and have now ceased to be remembei-ed.

"Songs of Scotland, ancient and modern, with Introduction and Notes,
Historical and Critical, and Characters of the Lyric Poets." Four Vols. Cvo.
1825. Some of the best poems in this collection are by Cunningham himself ;
not introduced surreptitiously, however, as in the case of Cromek, but as his
own productions ; and of these, " De Bruce " contains such a stirring account
of the battle of Bannockburn as Scott's " Lord of the Isk'S " has not surpassed.

" Lives of the most eminent British Painters, Sculptors, and Architects,"
published in Murray's "Family Library." Six Vols. 12mo. 1829-S3. This
work, although defective in philosophical and critical analysis, and chargeable,
in many instances, with partiality, continues to be highly popular, in conse-
fjuence of the poetical spirit with which it is pervaded, and the vivacious, attrac-
tive style in which it is written. This was what the author probably aimed at,
instead of producing a work that might serve as a standard for artists and con-
noisseurs ; and in this he has fully succeeded.

"Literary Illustrations to Major's ' Cabinet Gallery of Pictures."" 1383,
1834.

" The Maid of Elvar," a poem.

" Lord Roldan," a romance.

" Life of Burns."

" Life of Sir David Wilkie." Three Vols. Cvo. 18.13. Cunningham, who
knew the painter well, and loved him dearly as a congenial Scottish spirit, found
in this production the last of his literary efforts, as he finished its final corrections
only two days before he died. At the same time, he had made considerable pro-
gress in an extended edition of Johnson's "Lives of the Poets," and a "Life of
Chantrey" was also expected from his pen ; but before these could be accomplished
both poet and sculptor, after a close union of twenty-nine years, had ended
their labours, and bequeathed their memorial to other hands. The last days of
Chantrey were spent in drawing the tomb in which he wished to be buried in
the church-yard of Norton, in Derbyshire, the place of his nativity : and while
showing the plans to his assistant^ he observed, with a look of anxiety, "But
there will be no room for you." " Room for me !" cried Allan Cunningham,
" I would not lie like a toad in a stone, or in a place strong enough for another
to covet. 0, no ! let me lie where the green grass and the daisies grow, waving
under the winds of the blue heaven." The wish of both was satisfied ; for
Chantrey reposes under his mausoleum of granite, and Cunningham in the
picturesque cemetery of Harrow. The artist by his will left the poet a legacy
of £2000, but the constitution of the latter was so prematurely exhausted that
he lived only a year after his employer. His death, which was occasioned by
j)aralysis, occurred at Lower Belgrave Place, Pimiico, on the 20th October,
1842, in the fifty- seventh year of his age.

D

DALE, David. — This eminent philanthropist was born in Stewarton, Ayr-
Bhire, on the 6th of January, 1739. His ancestors are said to have been farmers

V. X

162 DAVID DALE.

iu that district for several hundred years ; hut his father, Mr. William Dale,*
was a grocer and general dealer in the to\Yn. David received the education
which was usually given at that period in the small towns of Scotland. His
first employment was the herding of cattle. He was afterwards apprenticed in
Paisley to the weaving business, at this time the most lucrative trade in the
country ; but it appears that he disliked the sedentary occupation, and on one
occasion left his employment abruptly. He afterwards, however, wrought at
the weaving trade in Hamilton and the neighbourhood of Cambuslang. He
subsequently removed to Glasgow, and became clerk to a silk-mercer. With
the assistance of friends he commenced business on his own account in the
linen yarn trade, which he carried on for many years, importing large quanti-
ties of French yarns from Flanders, which brought him large profits, and laid
tlie foundation of his fortune.t JMr. Dale had been about twenty years in
business in Glasgow, when Sir Richard Arkwright's patent inventions for the
improvement of cotton-spinning were introduced into England. Sir Richard
visited Glasgow in 1783, and was entertained by the bankers, merchants,
and manufacturers, at a public dinner, and next day started with Mr. Dale for
the purpose of inspecting the waterfalls on the Clyde, with a view to erect
works adapted to his improvements. A site was fixed on, and the buildings of
the New Lanark cotton-mills were immediately commenced. Arrangements
were at the same time made betwixt Sir Richard and Mr. Dale for the use of
the patent of the former. Mechanics were sent to England to be instructed in the
nature of the machinery and the process of the manufactures; but, in the mean-
while, Arkwright's patent having been challenged, and the courts of law having
decided against its validity, Mr. Dale was thus relieved of all claim for patent
right, and the connection betwixt him and Arkwright was consequently dis-
solved, the business being now entirely his own. Considerable opposition to
the erection of these works was offered by the landed proprietors in the neigh-
bourhood, from an unfounded apprehension that the privacy of their demesnes
would be invaded by the introduction of a multitude of work-people into that
rural district ; and, more especially, that fresh burdens would be entailed upon
them for the support of the poor. Their forebodings, however, were not realized
when the mills were put in operation. The works gave employment to great
numbers of peaceable and industrious operatives, who, instead of burdening the
land, contributed to enhance its value by consuming its produce. Finding,
likewise, that the mills were yielding large returns to the proprietor, many
landlords soon evinced a desire to have similar establishments on their own
estates. The capabilities of the steam-engine for impelling cotton machinery
were not yet known ; spinning-mills, therefore, could only be erected profitably
Avhere there were powerful waterfalls. Many of the landed proprietors in Scotland
availed themselves of Mr. Dale's practical knowledge and advice as to establishing

* Mr. ■William Dale was twice married ; by his first marriage he had two sons, David,
and Hugh; and by his second, one son, the late James Dale, Esq., whose son is now an
eminent merchant in Glasgow.

f Mr. Dale's shop was then in the High Street, five doors north of the corner at the
Cross. He paid £5 of rent, but thinking this an extravagant rent, ho sub-let the one-
half of it to a watchmaker for fifty shillings. But in 17S3, when he was appointed agent
for the Royal Bank of Scotland, the watchmaker's part was turned into the bank office,
where the business of that establishment was conducted till about 1700, when it was re-
moved to largo premises, south-east corner of St. Andi'e'w's Square.

mills on properties where such facilities existed. He was instrumental in this
way in the erection, amongst others, of the extensive mills at Catrine, on the banks
of the river Ayr, and at Spinningdale,on the Firth of Dornoch, in Sutherlandshire.
In several of the new works he had a pecuniary interest as co-partner. Besides
the spinning of cotton-yarn at New Lanark, jMr. Dale was largely concerned in
the manufacture of cotton-cloth in Glaf^gow.* In connection with Mr. George
M'Intosh, and Monsieur Papillon, a Frenchman, he established, in 1783, the
first works in Scotland for the dyeing of cotton turkey-red. lie was a partner
in an inkle factory ; also in the Blantyre cotton-mills, and at a later period of
his life held a large share in the Stanley cotton-mills.

He continued, meanwhile, his original business of importing Flanders yarn;
and, in addition to all these sources of income, when the Roj^al Bank of Scotland
established a branch of its business in Glasgow in 1783, he was appointed its
sole agent, an office which he held till within a few years of his death, when,
upon its business becoming much extended, an additional agent was named to
act jointly with him. The individual who, some thirty or forty yeavs before was
a little herd-boy at Stewarton, was now sole proprietor of, or connected as a
managing partner with, several of the most extensive mercantile, manufacturing,
and banking concerns of the country, the proper conducting of any one of
which would have absorbed the entire powers of most other men. Not so,
however, with the subject of our memoir; for we find him successfully con-
ducting, with strict commercial integrity, all the important enterprises inwhicli
he was embarked, together with others not included in this enumeration; besides
devoting time and money to various benevolent schemes, and discharging the
onerous duties of a magistrate of the city of Glasgow, to which he was elected,
first in 1791, and again in 1794: moreover, every Lords-day, and sometimes on
other days, preaching the gospel to a Congregational church, of which he was one
of the elders. t Mr. Dale was eminently qualified to sustain the numerous and
varied offices which he had thus undertaken; every duty being attended to in
its own place and at the proper time, he was never overburdened with work,
nor did he ever appear to be in a hurry.

The first erected, and at that time the only mill at New Lanark, was acci-
dentally burned to the ground a few weeks after it had begun to produce spun
yarn, for which there was a great demand. When intelligence of this event
reached Glasgow, many thought that a stop would be put to all further opera-
tions in that quarter. Sir. Dale heard the intelligence with calmness, formed
his resolutions, proceeded to the ground to inspect the ruins, and instantly issued
orders to re-erect the premises which had been consumed. The new mill was
speedily reconstructed, and the manufacture proceeded with fresh energy.

Although comfortable dwellings were erected at the village of New Lanark
for the workers, and good wages and constant employment insured, great diffi-
culty was felt in getting the spinning-mill filled with operatives. There was,

* Under the firm of Dale, Campbell, Reid, and Dale, viz., Mv. Dale himself, Mr.
Campbell, bis brother-in-law, Jlr. Andrew Rcid, and Mr. David Dale, jun., his nephew.

t The Congregational church here referred to, and the other churches in Scotland
and England in connection with it, give the Scripture name of "elder" to that office
which most; other denominations designate by the title of " minister" or " pastor." In
every such church, where circumstances are favourable, there is a plurality of elders,
most of whom continue to follow the occupations in which they were engaged previously
to being called to office.

indeed, no AVfint of unempIo3'ed work-people; for the change of commercial
relations caused by the first American war, tlieu raging', very much limited
the labour demand, and many, especially from tlie Highland districts, were in
consequence emigrating. It arose from prejudice on tlie part of the people,
more particularly in the Lowlands, against all factory labour. Parents would
neither work themselves nor allow their children to enter tlie mills. In this
dilemma Mr. Dale offered employment to a number of Highland families who
were emigrating from the Hebrides to America, but had been driven by stress of
v,eather into Greenock, and most of them availed themselves of the opening
for securing a comfortable livelihood in their native land. The Celts, appearing
to have less repugnance to factory labour than their countr^'men in the south,
agents were sent to the Highlands, who engaged many other families to become
workers at New Lanark; but as the mills were at last increased to four, there
Avas still a deficient supply of labour, especially in the department best served
by youths, and recourse was had to the poor-houses of Glasgow and Edinburgh,
from which orphan and other pauper children were obtained, and whose moral
and religious education was combined with their industrial training. From
these sources were the workers in the mill and the villagers of New Lanark
chiefly drawn, forming a population which, at all periods of its history, has
commended itself for decent and orderly behaviour.

After Mr. Dale had been in business several years, but before he had engaged
in any of the large' concerns now described, he, in September 1777, married
Miss Ann Caroline Campbell, daughter of John Campbell, Esq., W.S., Edin-
burgh. It is not known whether this lady brought him any fortune, but there
is reason to suppose that her father's connection with the Royal BanK of Scot-
land as a director, led to ]Mr. Dale's appointment as agent of that establishment
in Glasgow, and thus increased his commercial credit and command of capital,
jMiss Campbell, who had been brought up in the same religious connection with
her husband, was also of one heart and mind with him in all his schemes of bene-
volence. She was the mother of seven children, whom she trained up in the icar
01 the Lord. Mrs. Dale died in January, 1791. Mr. Dale did not again marry.
It was, of course, not to be expected that all the undertakings in which
Jlr. Dale was embarked should prove equally successful. One at least was a
total failure. It was generally understood that he lost about £20,000 in sink-
ing a coal-pit in the lands of Barrowfield, the coal never having been reached,
owing to the soil being a running quick-sand, which could not be overcome,
although the shaft was laid with iron cylinders. Messrs. liobert Tennant and
David Tod were his copartners in this unfortunate project ; but they together
held a comparatively small share, Mr. Dale was, however, eminently successful
on the whole, and had acquired a large fortune. In 1799, being then in his
sixty-first year, and nearly his fortieth in business, he resolved on freeing him-
self of at least a portion of liis commercial responsibilities. The mills at Lanark
had been uniformly prosperous, yielding returns larger perhaps than any other
of his concerns ; yet, possibly from his being sole proprietor, and in circum-
stances to relinquish them without delay, he at once disposed of these extensive
and valuable works. Mr. Robert Owen, then a young man, residing in Lan-
cashire, was in Glasgow on a visit, and being previously known to Mr. Dale as
having, by his talent and persevering industry, raised himself from humble cir-
cumstances to be manager of an extensive spinning-mill at Choriton, he con-
sulted witli him as to the propriety of selling the works. The information thus

DAVID DALE. 165

obtained by Mr. Owen convinced him of the profitable nature of the trade, and
led him to form a company of English capitalists, who purchased the property
at £GG,000, and carried on the business for several years, under the firm of the
Chorlton Spinning Company, of which Mr. Owen was appointed manager.
This situation he held from 17S9 to 1827, but not all the time in the same
partnership. During the twenty-eight years the mills were under Mr. Owen's
management, they cleared of nett profit about £000,000, after having laid aside
a sum nearly equal to 5 per cent, on the paid-up capital. Mr, Owen, sometime
after his settlement at New Lanark, married i\Ir. Dale's eldest daugliter, with
whom he received a large portion.

The above-named company continued to work with profit the Lanark mills
from 1799 to 1813, when the property again changed ownership. During the
copartnery, most of the English partners sold their interest to Glasgow mer-
chants, who consequently held the largest share at the close of the contract.
It appears that by this time (1814) the partners and the manager had each
resolved to get rid of the other; and both parties were bent on retaining, if
possible, possession of the mills. j\Ir. Owen had now begun to promulgate some
of his peculiar theories ; and, for the purpose of carrying them into practice,
had constructed the spacious and substantial building at New Lanark, still
existing, without, it is said, receiving the formal consent of the partners, some
of whom disapproved of his schemes. It was resolved to dispose of the pro-
perty by public roup; and Mr. Owen, meanwhile, suceteded in forming a new
company, which, when the day of sale arrived, became the purchasers, after con-
siderable competition, at the cost of £112,000. When security was required for
this large sum, the names of William Allen, Joseph Fox, Robert Owen, Jeremy
Bentham, John Walker, and Michael Gibbs, Esquires, were handed in as the
partners of the New Lanark Cotton-Mill Compan}-.

The education of the common people was at this period occupying much at-
tention. Joseph Lancaster had introduced his method of instructing large num-
bers at little expense. His Quaker brethren warmly espoused the cause, which
speedily excited universal interest, from the highest to the humblest. Mr. Owen
entered heartily into the movement, which he advocated on the platform in Glas-
gow, and towards which he contributed a thousand pounds to the Glasgow sub-
scription alone out of his private funds. His zeal in the cause no doubt re-
commended him to the benevolent individuals who became his partners; and
it is also to be observed, that he had not 3-et avowed the infidel principles which
were destined to give him such unenviable notoriety in future years. The
new copartnery laid down, as the basis of its union, an article rarely to be found
in commercial contracts, namely, " That all profits made in the concern be-
yond five per cent, per annum on the capital invested, shall be laid aside for
the religious, educational, and moral improvement of the workers, and of the
community at large." And, as appears from the "Memoir of William Allen,"
provision was made "for the religious education of all the children of the
labourers employed in the works, and that nothing should be introduced tend-
ing to disparage the Christian religion, or undervalue tlie authority of the
Holy Scriptures; that no books should be introduced into the library until they
had first been approved of at a general meeting of the partners; that schools
should be established on the best models of the British, or other approved
systems, to which the partners might agree ; but no religious instruction, or
lessons on religion, should be used except the Scriptures, according to the

1G6 DAVID DALE.

authorized version, or extracts therefrom, without note or comment ; and that
tlie children should not be employed in the mills belonging to the partnership
until they were of such an age as not to he prejudicial to their health." The pious
and benevolent founder of the establishment had, in like manner, provided
schools and schoolmasters for the education of the workers and their childre)i,
and had maintained these throughout the successive changes in the copartnery.
Mr. Owen, being thus vested with great powers and ample means for the
most enlarged benevolence, started, under the auspices of the newly-formed
company, on an extensive educational plan, embracing, in addition to the ordi-
nary school instruction, the higher branches of science. He gave lessons in
military tactics, and caused the workmen to march in order to and from school
and workshop in rank and file to the sound of drum and fife— a sort of training
rather alien to the anti-warlike predilections of his Quaker copartners. He
attempted also to introduce Socialist principles, and became himself a promi-
nent leader of that party, which had hitherto been scarcely heard of in the
country. He contributed largely in money for the purchase of an estate in the
neighbouring parish of Motherwell, and to erect on it a huge building, distin-
guished b^f the name of New Harnion3% In this institution, which soon went to
pieces, society was to be reconstituted on Socialist principles, with a commu-
nity of goods. The partners of Owen were grieved at his folly, and the public
shared in their disappointment and regret. William Allen, the Quaker, a
man of science and a philanthropist, and who was induced to enter into the co-
partnery solely in the hope of doing good to the factory population by his
influence, and to the millowners by his example, writes, in 1817 — "Robert
Owen is in town, and I am much distressed about him. He has blazoned abroad
liis infidel principles in all the public newspapers, and he wishes to identify me
with his plans, which I have resisted in the most positive manner. I am
resolved not to remain in the concern of New Lanark, unless it be most nar-
rowly and constantly watched by some one on whom we can thoroughly rely."
Mr. Allen had been in correspondence with Lord Sidmoutli, Secretary of State
for the Home Department, about the education of the people on the basis of
Christianity, and had referred, in that correspondence, to what he and his part-
ners had resolved on doing at New Lanark. The newly-avowed views of
Robert Owen having, as he feared, deranged all their plans, he, in these altered
circumstances, considered it necessary to apprise the Home Secretary that
Owen's opinions were not those of his partners; that " they not only disavowed,
but held them in abhorrence." Three of the partners, namely, W. Allen,
Joseph Fox,and Michael Gibbs, visited the works in April, 1818, their "principal
object being to discover whether any attempt is making there to weaken the
faith of the people in Divine revelation." They made inquiry at the general
superintendent of the works, who was reported to them as a steady, religious
man ; they inquired, also, as opportunity oifered, amongst the people, at the
parish minister, and at the Dissenting minister in Old Lanark, from one and all
of whom they learned that Owen's infidel sentiments had hitherto made but
little progress, and that the morals of the villagers were good. An address from
the villagers was presented to the deputation, at a public meeting called for the
purpose. In this address the people expressed their gratitude "for the gratuitous
education of the children, and the humane treatment which the workers them-
selves experienced," but no mention is made in it of any "religious instruction,
or lessons on religion, from Scripture," having been given. William Allen

DAVID DALE. 1G7

acknowledged this address in a lengthened speech, in which he says, "Although
Josejih Foster and himself are members of the Society of Friends, and Michael
Gibbs is a member of the Established Cliurch of England, that while neither
were desirous of jirosely tizing to this or that form of religion, the}- all were most
desirous for the spiritual and temporal good of all the workers, and specially
that their children be brought up in the fear of God." He, in name of all the
London proprietors, avowed their firm belief in Divine revelation, appealing to
the moral change which faith in Christ had produced in all ages, and pressing
the blessings of religion upon the acceptance of all who heard him. The visit
of this deputation was made avowedly to counteiact the baneful effects of
Owen's principles. He was informed of the object of the visit, was present at
all the meetings, heard all that was said in opposition to the pernicious doc-
trines he was covertly promulgating at New Lanark — but maintained a cautious
silence. He, nevertheless, pursued his own course, and the consequence was
the retirement from the company of those members who had joined it from
philanthropic motives, and the abandonment of their admirably-conceived
plan of raising up an intelligent, right-principled, and well-conditioned factory
population at New Lanark. Mr. Owen continued in connection witii the mills
till 1827 ; but during the greater part of his latter years he was occupied in
propagating his visionary schemes of infidelity in England and America, in
which he spent a princely fortune, derived from the profits of the business. Mr.
Owen of late years has resided chiefly in London, and his children in the
United States of America. Mrs. Owen did not adopt the infidel principles of
her husband; on the contrary, soon after she had ascertained the nature of his
sentiments, she openly avowed her faith in the Lord Jesus, connected herself
with the church of which her father had been an elder, and adorned her Chris-
tian profession till her death in 1832.

But to return to the subject of our memoir, Mr. Dale, in 1782, built for his
family residence the spacious mansion at the south-west corner of Charlotte
Street, Glasgow, at a cost of £6000, which greatly exceeded his calculations.
This tenement, after repeatedly changing owners of late years, and having been
occupied as a Roman Catholic nunnery, is now the property of the incorpora-
tion of the Eye Infirmary, and is devoted to the purposes of that institution. As
a retreat from the bustle of a city life, about the year 1800, when his advancing
years required repose, he purchased Rosebank, a small landed property and
dwelling-house on the banks of Clyde, about four miles east of Glasgow. He
was in his sixty-first year when his connection with the Lanark mills ceased.
Having acquired a handsome competency, he resolved on winding up his other
business affairs ; but the nature of his contracts and copartneries rendered it
impossible to free his estate from responsibility till some years after his death.
But whilst gradually withdrawing from other business engagements, he most
unaccountably, through the influence of Mr. Owen, became a partner in the
Stanley Cotton Mill Company, a connection which caused him much uneasiness
during the latter years of his life, and is said to have involved him in a loss of
£G0,000. Hitherto his career as a merchant only has been described. It re-
mains to delineate those features of his character upon which his reputation as
a Christian philanthropist chiefly rests. Mr. Dale in early life appears to have
been of a pious turn of mind, and a regular attendant at church. He sought the
company of religious people, and became a member of a fellowship prayer-meet-
ing at Paisley during his apprenticeship. He attached himself to the evange-

168 DAVID DALE.

Ileal party in the Established Clnirch. The fellowship-meetings were held in
the evenings, and generally in a private house, the exercises consisting of praise,
prayer, reading the Word, and Christian conversation. We have no account
under what minister of the Church of Scotland Mi'. Dale placed himself while
at Paisley, Cambuslang, and Hamilton ; hut we may readily suppose that his
residence in the two last-named places, if not selected for that purpose, woiild at
least give him an opportunity of attending on the many evangelical ministers
who flocked to that quarter for many years after the revivals of religion which
had occurred at Cambuslang shortly before. It was about 1763 when Mr.
Dale took up his residence in Glasgow, being then in his twenty-fourth j'ear.
He attached himself at one time to the College Church congr.^.gation, under
the ministry of Dr. Gillies, son-in-law to the well-known Maclaurin, author of
the inimitable sermons on "Glorying in the Cross of Christ."

The causes which led Mr. Dale and a few others to secede from the national
Church, and unite, as a separate community, under the Congregational order,
will now be traced from an old manuscript, and from a pamphlet printed in
1814, entitled, "A Short Account of the Rise and Establishment of the Churches
commonly called the Old Scotch Independents." This secession, like every
other which has happened during the last 120 years, arose out of the question
of church patronage. In general, the contending parties have been the members
of the church against the crown or an individual lay-patron ; but in this
instance the contention lay betwixt the general session of Glasgow and the
magistrates and town council of the city. The general session, composed of
the ministers and elders of the eight parishes into which the city was then
divided, had, prior to ITGi-GG, held and exercised the right of patronage to all
the town churches as vacancies occurred. At this date, however, the right of
the general session was challenged by the magistrates and council, and decided
by the civil courts in favour of the latter, who have consequently been patrons
of all the city churches ever since. The authorities being then, as for many
years after, of the moderate party, filled up the first vacancy which occurred —
that of the AVynd church — with a minister most obnoxious to the orthodox party.
The appointment gave greatofFence, not onlytothe parishioners, but to the citizens
generally, who valued their religious privileges. Great dissatisfaction was evinced
by the orthodox party in the Wynd congregation, which resulted in their erecting
anew place of worship in North Albion Street, which was first called "The Chapel
of the Scotch Presbyterian Society," but afterwards "The Chapel of Ease." To
tlie erection of this building Jlr. Dale was an original subscriber, and voted for
Mr. Cruden, the minister who first occupied its pulpit. The building continued
to be used as a place of worship in connection with the Church of Scotland, the
minister being chosen by the people, till about 1850, when it was sold, and is now
occupied as a leather warehouse. In the year 1768, Mr. John Barclay (after-
wards known as the leader of a sect which took the name of Bereans), a licentiate
of the Church of Scotland, and assistant minister of the parish of Fettercairn,
being impressed with the evils of patronage, and lamenting the unscrlptural
doctrines then taught in many of the pulpits of the parish churches, heard witii
sympathy of the movement in Glasgow, and visited that city for the purpose of
being introduced to Mr. Dale, with whom he had many interviews. His visits
were repeated, when Mr. Archibald Paterson, Mr. Matthew Alexander, and
others who afterwards became associated with Mr. Dale in the Congregational
Church, were present. They were satisfied with the doctrines taught by Mr.

DAVID DALE. ](

Barclay, and were astonished at tiie boldness with which he denounced all liuman
writings on divine things, and his advocacy of tlie Word of God as the alone
standard of faith. His preaching had the effect of leading these individuals to
a more thorough searching of Scripture for light and guidance, which ended in
their gradually embracing Congregational principles in church government,
and their abandoning the Church of Scotland and the Relief Presbytery, Mr.
Dale and others like-minded, to the number of seven, having mutually professed
their faith to each other, assembled for some time on the Lord's-day in a private
house for praj'er, praise, reading the Word, and mutual exhortation. Their
number very soon increased to twenty-five, and many others expressed a desire
to attend as hearers; but the place of meeting not being capable of accommo-
dating them all, Mr. Archibald Paterson, one of the original seven, erected, out
of his own means, a meeting-house in Greyfriars' Wynd, seated for about 500 per-
sons. In this place the church assembled till 1836, when, on its getting out of
repair, a larger and more commodious building was erected in Oswald Street,
where the church continues its meetings.

About the time that Mr. Dale and his friends seceded, Mr. Smith, minister
of the parish of Newburn, and Mr. Ferrier, minister of the adjoining parish of
Largo, in Fifeshire, also left the Established Churcli on Congregational princi-
ples. There was no concert betwixt the two parties ; the movement in Fife-
shire seems to have been made known to the party in Glasgow only by the
publications of the parties in Fife, giving their i-easons of dissent after the
secession had taken place ; but the statements and doctrines in these publica-
tions being in accordance with the views of the Glasgow seceders, l^d to the
opening of a correspondence between them, which resulted in their union.
The brethren in Fife had a meeting-house erected at Balchristie. In a short time
a congregation was formed, which soon became very numerous, and l\Ir. Smith
and Mr, Ferrier were called to preside over it as elders. The church at Balchristie
was prevailed upon to part with Mr. Ferrier, that he might become one of the
elders in the church at Glasgow, which also unanimously elected Mr. Dale to be
conjoined in office with IMr. Ferrier. He accepted the office with great reluc
tance, the very thought of its responsibilities having for some time affected his
health. In 17C9, Mr. Dale entered on the duties of a Christian pastor, which he
csntinued to discharge till his death, thirty-seven years afterwtirds.

Mr. Dale and his friends discarded, as unscriptural, church government by
sessions, presbyteries, and s^mods, maintaining that all who possessed the quali-
fications for the ministry, as laid down in the apostolic writings, and who were
called by their brethren to the exercise of these gifts, were not only at liberty,
but were bound to exercise them for the good of their fellow-creatures, although
they had never entered the portals of a college or of a divinity hall. The new
vievi's, especially when acted upon by the appointment of Mr. Dale to tlio
ministry, raised a shout of derision ; he was hooted and jostled in the streets,
and many times forced to take shelter under some friendly roof. The same prac-
tices were followed when he and his colleague, Mr. Ferrier, were seen together on
the streets; but the latter having been a clergyman in the Established Church,
more personal respect was shown to him than to Mr. Dale. Even the meeting-
house in which they assembled did not escape the popular dislike ; stones and
other missiles were hurled against it, till the windows, roof, and other parts of
the building were much injured. Nor were these practices discontinued till an
action at law for damage was threatened. The ill disposed being thus dstcrre 1

y. y

170 DAVID DALE.

from doing injury to persons or property, next proceeded to pack the meeting-
house with a rabble, that a "row" might be created, especiall3Mn the dark
evenings of the Lord's da^'S. On one occasion their annoyance took a some-
what humorous turn. Mr. Smith, one of the pastors of the church at Balchris-
tie, about tliis time came on a visit to his friends, Messrs. Dale and Ferrier.
It became known that these three individuals would officiate respectively at
one or other of the three services on the following Lord's-day . In the interim, a
punning placard, in imitation of a country blacksmith's sign-boai'd, was posted
on the large entrance door, having the following inscription: " Preaclimg here,
h!/ David Dale, Smith and Ferrier:' It may be readily supposed that such a
ludicrous advertisement would not fail to bring together a rabble for mischief
or merriment. Mr. Dale and his friends outlived all this, and it may be hero
noticed, as an evidence of the fugitive nature of popular censure as well as of
popular applause, that he who, in 1709-70, was mobbed in the streets for daring
to preach without a presbyterial license, was, little more than twenty years
thereafter, conducted to and from the same place of worship by the officers of
the city corporation, with all the paraphernalia and pomp of a magisterial
procession. In 1791, when Pilr. Dale was elected a city magistrate, his brethren
on the bench were all staunch churchmen. It was then, and for long afterwards,
the practice of the magistrates and other civic functionaries to walk in proces-
sion to the parish church, escorted by city officers in uniform, with halberts,
and other tokens of authority. Mr. Dale could not, of course, accompany the
procession to the parish church, but rather than allow a magistrate to go unes-
corted to any place of worship, it was arranged that a portion of the city officers
should, in*livery and with halberts, attend him to and from his ovrn place of
worship, and wait on him while there. This it appears he submitted to, though
rather inconsistent like with his religious principles.

The church over which Mr. Dale presided, though relieved of hostility from
without, was, at no very distant period, tried by the withdrawal from its com-
munion of one after another of its elders, and of many of its most respected mem-
bers, JMr. Ferrier seceded on Glassite, and soon afterwards, Mr. Robert Moncrieff
followed, on Baptist principles. It appears that Baptist principles had agitated
the body from a very early period of its histor3\ A pamphlet, the joint produc-
tion of several of the members, in favour of infant baptism, was published in
1776. In the course of the following year it produced a reply from the pen of
Mr. Archibald M'Lean, one of the pastors of the Baptist Church in Edinburgh,
entitled, " Believers' Baptism in opposition to Infant Sprinkling." This reply
stao-gered the faith of many of Mr. Dale's friends, for one of their own number
of that day writes that "many of them left the church and were baptized, and
amongst these was the chief compiler of the pamphlet in defence of infant bap-
tism, which he had boasted of as being sufficient to confound all the Baptists in
the world." Soon after this, Mr. Robert MoncriefF's secession from the church
took place. This individual, brother of the late Kev, Sir Harry Moncrieff, Bart.,
who had been educated for the medical profession, which he practised in one
of its branches for some time, is described by the writer quoted above as " a
young man of considerable knowledge of the Scripture, and has a talent for
communicating what he believes in a plain, easy, and agreeable manner, having
a great command of language, and fluency of words." With Mr. Moncrieff, many
of the members of the church seceded, and joined the Baptists; amongst these
was Mrs. Dale, who continued in that communion to the end of her days. Mr.

DAVID DALE. 171

MonciiefF being a popular preacher, nearly all the hearers followed him; the
place in which Mr. Dale officiated was in consequence very much deserted, and
continued to he so for some time. Although the church thus lost many of its
members, with very few exceptions, none appear either to have left, or to have
been excluded on account of error in the fundamental doctrines of the gospel ; and
the church itself has never swerved from the principles Avhich it first professed.

Mr. Dale never appeared in print as an author. He was opposed to the
publication of the above-named pamphlet on infant baptism, and succeeded in
preventing the appearance of a second, which was written in reply. Although
hi did not publish his own views to the world, and discouraged others from
doing so, he freely availed himself of the pulpit for expounding and vindicating
the distinctive principles of his communion. A statement of these principles
ma}' here be introduced.

In 1813 a correspondence took place betwixt the churches in Scotland
with which Mr. Dale stood connected (which, by this time, had assumed the
name of the Old Independent Churches, to distinguish them from the more
modern, raised by Messrs. Haldane, Ewing, and others), and the Inghamite
churches* in England, which, in 1814, produced a union of these two bodies,
which still exists. This correspondence was printed ; from one of the letters
of which, written by the late ]\Ir. James BI'Gavin, one of the elders of the
church at Paisley, we shall transcribe, what it professes to contain, " a concise
abstract of the faith, hope, and practice of these churches."

First, " We receive the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament as the
Word of God; and that these two Testaments (not singly, but as united) are
the only rule of faith and practice."

Second, " As taught in these oracles, we profess to believe, that by the first
man's disobedience all are become guilty before God, and are so constituted by
the imputation of his one offence, as well as by our own actual transgression
against the royal law of God, which requires a perfection of godliness and
humanity — hence are naturally under its curse; and that 'by the deeds of the
law no flesh can be justified ' in his sight."

Third, " That the Lord Jesus Christ, who is God equal with the Father, was
' born of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them who are under the
curse of the law' — that 'he was made a curse in bearing our sins in his own
body ' — that ' sin was imputed to him, who was holy, harmless, undefiled, and
separate from sinners' — that in the work the Father gave him to do as his
righteous servant, he 'obeyed the law as our surety, and made atonement
for sin in his ov.-n divine blood ' — that in his obedience unto death, ' he mag-
nified the law, and made it honourable, and brought in an everlasting righteous-
ness'— and our assurance of the truth of this rests in the Father's raising him

* The Inghamite churches date their origin from Mr. Benjamin Ingham, who, in 1735,
was ordained to the ministry hy Dr. Potter, bishop of Oxford. He at first attached him-
self to John Wesley, and at his request went on a preaching tour to America. On his
return, in 1711, he married Lady Margaret Hastings, sister to the Earl of Huntingdon.
He founded religious bodies, about sixty in number, chiefly in the midland and northern
counties of England, modelled on tho plan of the Wesleyan and Moravian societies.
They, however, very soon resiled from the peculiarities of Methodism, and adopted prin-
ciples and practices almost the same as were afterwards adopted hy the churches in
Scotland. On the two parties discovering this, in 1812, a formal union of Christian
Lrotherhood betwixt the two was formed in 1314,

172 DAVID DALE.

from the dead, and giving him glory and honour at his own light hand; thus
testifying that he is well pleased, and ref|uires no more offering for sin."

Fourtli, " That hy the work of the Lord Jesus, all who believe are justified
from all things; that we are not justified on account of crediting God's testi-
mony concerning his Son, hut by his righteousness alone; and that it is given on
the behalf of Christ to believe ; so that faith is truly the channel through which
tlie Divine righteousness is imputed to the ungodly just as they are — guilty
criminals — and that on the footing of sovereign mercy, and according to the
election of grace, viz., that God will have mercy on whom he will liave mercy,
and whom he will he passeth by."

Fifth, " That the Holy Spirit, who is equal with the Father and the Son, is
the grand agent in teaching of sin and of righteousness ; that his operations,
both in conversion and in leading to a life of holiness, are only by the means of
the written Word. Almighty power keeps through the faith unto salvation;
the perseverance of the saints is thus secured; for whom the Lord loves, he loves
unto the end."

Sixth, " Such being our faith, we profess to have our hope for eternal life
resting on the one thing needful alone, the sole requisite for justification ; and
although called to a life of conformity to the image of God's dear Son, without
which no man shall see the Lord, yet this does not in any respect form part of
our acceptance before him; it justifies our faith, as being of the operation of
God to the praise of his glory."

Seventh, " Our hopes reach forth to the second coming of the Lord from
heaven, to change our vile bodies, and fashion them like to his glorious body
and so to be ever with the Lord."

Eighth, " We profess to hold our Lord's good confession, that his kingdom is
not of this world (though in part in the world), that a church of Christ is sub-
ject to no jurisdiction under heaven, not under law even to those who are mem-
bers one of another (although by love they are to serve one another), but under
law to him who is the head of the bod}^ and sole lawgiver in his own kingdom;
and with respect to the subjects of his kingdom, we view infants iis compre-
hended, so we receive such Ijy baptism." And —

Ninth, "We profess to keep the ordinances as they are delivered to us, by
(every Lord's- day) continuing steadfastly in the apostles' doctrine {i.e., in read-
ing, preaching, or exhorting, either by the elders or other male members) in
fellowship, in breaking of bread, and in prayers — the prayers also both by
the elders and other brethren."

When we turn from the survey of Mr. Dale's multifarious duties as the
pastor of a pretty numerous church, to his active charities as a philanthropist,
we are left to wonder how he could find time and strength to go through with
the many duties he took in hand. We find him, at an early period, regularly
visiting Bridewell, for the purpose of preaching the gospel to the convicts; and
his example in this respect was long followed by his colleagues in the church.
He every year made excursions to distant parts of the country, visiting and
comforting the churches with which he stood connected.

Although Mr. Dale shunned the ostentatious display of benevolence, yet his
liberality could not always be hid. The present generation have, at times, had to
pay very high prices for the necessaries of life, yet no dread of famine, or even
partial scarcity, at least in Scotland, has been entertained for at least half a cen-
tury. Not so, however, during Mr. Dale's time ; for at that period the poor had

DAVID DALE. 173

occasionally to pay ransom prices for fooil, and even at these prices it sometiineg
could not be obtained. In the dearth of 1782, 1791-93, and in 1799, Mr. Dale
imported, at his own risk, large quantities of food from Ireland, America, and
the continent of Europe. To effect tliis, he chartered ships for the speci.il
purpose. The food thus brought in he retailed to the poor at prime cost,
thereby in groat measure averting the threatened famine, and preventing a still
greater advance in prices.

In addition to the benefits, spiritual and temporal, conferred on his country-
men at home, he engaged with the same ardoiir in most of the schemes then in
operation for extending a knowledge of the gospel of peace in foreign countries,
especially those which had for their object the translation and circulation of the
Word of God. The proposal to translate the Scriptures into the various languages
of our eastern empire, as projected and accomplished by the Baptist Missionary
Society, had his hearty support from the outset. Mr. Andrew Fuller, of Ket-
tering, who travelled for the purpose of collecting funds for this object, was
kindly received by Mr. Dale, and from him received large contributions for the
cause. In Mr. Fuller's sermon on covetousness, preached sometime after Mr.
Dale's death, and printed in the fourth volume of his works, when enjoining on
his hearers toJio have, to give of their abundance, and to do so liberally, he says,
" The poor people of Glasgow used to say of a late great and good man of that
city — 'David Dale gives his money by slio'elsful, but God Almighty sho'els it
back again.'" This is nothing more than was predicted by Solomon Avhen he
said, " There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth ; and there is that with-
holdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to penury." The printing and
circulating of the Word of God without note or comment, proposed as the
fundamental law of the British and Foreign Bible Society at its formation in
1004, also met with his cordial approbation; indeed, so much was he pleased
with the objects of this noble institution, as to use his influence in the forma-
tion of an auxiliary to the parent institution, which was accomplished in July,
1805, being the first auxiliary to the Bible Society. The society then formed
continued in operation till 1012, when it merged into the Glasgow Auxiliary,
which still exists. On this subject we find, in the first report of that society,
the following testimony, page 19: — "Immediately upon the arrival of the
tidings that a society had been formed in London, of which the exclusive object
Avas the circulation throughout the whole world of the pure Word of God with-
out note or comment, the late David Dale, Esq., delighted with the grandeur
and simplicity of the idea, entered into it, as all who knew him might have
expected, with his whole heart. He immediately remitted a subscription
worthy of his usual benevolence; he spoke of the institution to others, wlo
instantly caught the same ardour, and expressed it in the same way; and thus,
under his auspices, a society was at length formed (a meeting of the friends of
the British and Foreign Bible Society having been called for this purpose by
public advertisement), which appointed a treasurer, a secretary, and a com-
mittee of management, kept regular books, and continued to hold its stated and
occasional meetings for several years. In this way Mr. Dale naturally came to
be recognized, by the British and Foreign Bible Society, as their treasurer and
general agent for Glasgow and the west of Scotland, in which capacity he con-
tinued to act till his lamented death,"

After the sale of the Lanark mills, till his death six years thereafter, "Slv. Dale
in great measure retired from business pursuits. During this time he gave an

174 DAVID DALE.

hour or t\YO ciaily to attendance at the bank, and the winding up of his own
private concerns occupied an equal shaa-e of his attention ; but at no period of
his life were his public and private acts of benevolence, or his duties in the
pastoral office, more attended to than at this time. For some months before
February, 180G, it was seen tliat his health and strength were failing. About
the 1st of March of that year he was confined to bed, and died in peace on the
I7th day of the same month, in the sixty-eighth year of his age, in his house,
Charlotte Street, Glasgow. In his last illness, he frequently expressed his con-
fidence as resting on the fulness, freeness, and simplicity of the gospel truth
which he had for so long a period preached to otliers. His remains were interred
in St. David's church burying-ground. No sculptured marble marks the
place Avhere all that is mortal of this good man reposes. The spot is indicated
by a hewn stone built into the east boundary-wall, inclosed by an iron railing,
about midway betwixt the south and north corner of the ground, having on it
the following plain inscription : — "The burying-ground of David Dale, mer-
chant, Glasgow, 1780." The funeral was attended by the magistrates, clergy,
and chief officials of the city, and by a numerous assemblage of private friends,
amounting to several hundreds. Mr. Dale was the father of one son, named
William, after his grandfather, who died in 1789, when in his seventh year, and
five daughters, all of whom survived him. Two of these are now dead ; of the
remaining three, two are married to clergymen of the Episcopal Church. In
person, Mr. Dale was sliort and corpulent. A small portrait of him, of no great
artistical merit, was etched, which, however, is said to be a fair likeness. His
name was not given, but the portrait was entitled, " The Benevolent Magistrate."
It was copied into " Kay's Edinburgh Portraits," and also into " Stewart's Views
of Glasgow in Former Times." He was of a cheerful temperament, of easy
access, lively and communicative ; and, when in the company of friends, he freely
relaxed all formal restraints. He had a good musical taste, and in the com-
pany of his private friends sung some of the old Scotch songs with great effect,
particularly the " Flowers of the Forest,'' with such intense feelings as to draw
tears from his auditory. Without giving offence, he could make a pithy and
facetious remark ; and without taking any, he could bear a joke by a friend,
although the subject of it might be some peculiarity or oddity about himself.
lie once told a friend that he had slipped on the ice, and "fallen all his length."
" Be thankful, sir, it was not all your breadth," was the apt reply.

He never took a prominent part in the keen disputes of the party-politics of
his day ; but, when it was necessary, he avowed himself to be of the aristocratic
party then in power. At this period he had a nephew of his own name whom
he put into business in Glasgow\ This young man was a democrat, and some-
times attended the meetings of the " Friends of the People." Old Mr. Dale
was grievously offended on such occasions at seeing it announced in the news-
papers that such meetings were honoured by the presence of David Dale, Esq.
The establishment of the branch of the Royal Bank in Glasgow, in 1783,
proved to be of great service in promoting the trade of the city, especially in
the manufacture of cotton goods, whicli made rapid progress from that date.
Mr. Dale's management of the bank business was never objected to; he was
discriminating and liberal in granting loans to the industrious prudent trader,
while he had the firmness to resist the advances of the mere speculator. An
anecdote has been preserved illustrative of his feelings and humanity towards
an unfortunate individual who had committed forgery. A young man pre-

DAVID DALE. 175

sented a draft for discount, which Mr. Dale considered to he a forged document ;
he sent for the young man, and in private informed him of his suspicions ; tha
fact was acknowledged : Mr. Dale then pointed out to him the risk he put his
life in by such an act, destro_yed the bill, that no proof of his guilt should re-
main, and finding that he had been led to it by pecuniary difficulties, gave him
some money, and dismissed liim with a suitable admonition. In regard to his
usefulness as a preacher of the gospel, the late Dr. Wardlaw used to say of Mr.
Dale, that he was a most scriptural and instructive teacher of a Christian church .
He had not accpjired in early life a knowledge of the languages in which the
Scriptures were originally written, but this lack was amply supplied I)y appli-
cation in after life. He could read with understanding the Hebrew and Greek ;
tie Old and New Testaments were frequently, perhaps daily, studied by him in
these languages. His public discourses were sententious. For several years
before his death his pulpit services were listened to by many who came on pur-
pose to hear his preaching.

Various estimates of the fortune which BIr. Dale had realized were made about
the period of his death ; the probability is that one and all v/ere far wide of the
truth. A vast amount of his effects consisted in mill buildings and machinery,
which are of a very fluctuating value. A considerable part too was locked up
in business concerns in operation, of which he was copartner, some of which
were not closed for many years, and some of these proved to be very unprofita-
ble. The exact, or even estimated amount, was never made known to the pub-
lic, but it must, at the period referred to, have been very considerable. From
the losses sustained in winding up, however, it is generally understood that a
large portion was swept away, and that but a comparatively small part came
ultimately to his family.

It was a general rule in the last century, in all large concerns, to engage
assistants for a lengthened period, generally for ten or twelve years. The salary
which, in these days, was small in comparison to what is now given, was fixed
at the commencement of the term of servitude, and before the capabilities of the
person were known. Mr. Dale followed this plan very generally, and from time
to time elevated to higher places of trust those who evinced an aptitude for more
onerous duties ; but it was remarked at the time that he seldom, if ever, in-
creased the salary in proportion to the greater responsibilities, nor in genera]
would he allow the individual to leave till the end of the engagement, even
when his doing so would have improved his circumstances. No doubt in
this he acted in strict justice, but not with that generosity which his great
benevolence would have led us to expect. His actings in these matters were
considered by his best friends as rather sharp dealing ; but he was invulnerable
when remonstrated with on the subject, and would refer in justification to the
usages of trade of that day. Notwithstanding, he never lost the confidence and
favour of his old servants, who always spoke of him with the greatest respect.
And it has been remarked, that he must have been fortunate in the selection of
his confidential servants, as most of them afterwards rose to commercial emi-
nence. It must be confessed that Mr. Dale's engaging in so many concerns, and
pursuing with eagerness such a variety of large business speculations, was
scarcely consistent with that moderation in all things which is enjoined on the
Christian. It is true he had great business talent, forethought, sagacity, and
strict integrity, which gave success to his schemes, and secured to him at an
early period great commercial credit — that credit at times serving him in place

176 DAVID DALE.

of capital. The very success which followed his earliest enterprises would lead
him on to tlie adoption of others, some of which, as lias been shown, proved
total failures, causing great loss. Whether from tliis or from other causes is
not now known, but at various periods of his business life he was much reduced
in circumstance). He used to tell his friends that three times in his life he was
thrown back on the world, and on each occasion could scarcely call himself
worth anything. This surely was trading on too narrow a margin, too near the
verge of bankruptcy, which, liad it taken place, would have involved others in
injury and suffering, and brouglit discredit on his Christian character. But
with all his shortcomings, David Dale was a great and a good man. He did
essential service to the commerce of his country, at a period vAien it required the
impetus of such a mind. He was the friend of the working-classes, whom he
])rovided with remunerative occupation, whilst he took delight in educating
their children, and training them at liis own expense, to habits of intelligence and
industry. His unbounded benevolence endeared him to all classes of the people
and his Christian character to the church of which he was an ornament. The
following tribute to the memory of David Dale, from the pen of Dr. Wardlaw,
appeared as an obituary notice in the "Glasgow Herald," of March 180G: —
" The character of this good man comprehends in it so many points of distin-
guished excellence, that nothing more than an imperfect outline can here be
inserted. He had not in the outset of life enjoyed the advantage of a polished
or liberal education, but the want of it was greatly compensated b3^a large share
of natural sagacity and good sense, and extensive and discriminating knowledge
of human character, and by a modest, gentle, dignified simplicity of manner,
peculiar to himself, and which secured to him the respect and attention of every
company, and of men of every rank of life. A zealous promoter of the general
industry and manufactures of his country, his schemes of business were exten-
sive and liberal, conducted with singular prudence and perseverance, and, by
the blessing of God, were crowned with such abundant success as served to
advance his rank in society, and to furnish him with the means of that diffusive
benevolence which rendered his life a public blessing, and shed a lustre on his
character, rarely exemplified in any age of the world. Impelled by the all-
powerful influence of that truth which he firmly believed and publicly taught,
constrained by the love and animated by the example of his beloved Master,
liis ear was never shut to the cry of distress ; his private charities were bound-
less; and every public institution which had for its object the alleviation or
prevention of human misery in this world, or in the world to come, received
from him the most liberal support and encouragement. For while the leading
object of his heaven-born soul was the diffusion of the light of truth in the
eartli, he gladly embraced every opportunity of becoming, like the patriarch of
old, 'eyes to the blind,' 'feet to the lame,' and to 'cause the widow's heart
to sing for joy.' In private life his conduct, actuated by the same principles,
was equally exemplary, for he was a kind parent, a generous friend, a wise and
faithful counsellor, 'a lover of hospitality,' 'a lover of good men,' 'sober,
just, holy, temperate;' and now, having ' thus occupied with his talents,' 'lie
liath emered into the joy of his Lord.' "

In " The Evening Star,'' a London paper, of March 22, 1806, ajjpeared a similar
eulogium, written by the editor, Dr. Alexander Tilloch, a native of Glasgov.-,
and author of various publications — literary, scientific, and religious. " His life
(said this writer) was a life of benevolence and extensive charity, without

SIR JOHN GRAHAM DALYELU 177

ostentation, without pride. Indeed, his constant aim was to hide from tlie e^'e
oi man his numberless acts of mercy ; even tlie individuals who were saved
from wretchedness and want by his liberality, were often ignorant of the instru-
ment which Providence had raised up for their deliverance. Agreeably to the
injunction of the Master whom lie served, his alms were done in secret, but
iliey could not be entirely hid. Mr. Dale was the first who erected colton-
mills in Scotland on the plan of Sir Richard Arkwright. His motive for doing
so was highly praiseworthy; it was to extend the means of emplo3'ment for the
labouring poor, to introduce habits of industry among the lower orders, and
render them useful to their families and the community. Kor was his attention
merely confined to the object of finding them bread; he erected and maintained
schools, at his own expense, for the education of all the young people employed,
and every means which he could devise was used to have them instructed in
religious knowledge.

" Mr. Dale was a Dissenter, and for many years one of the pastors of an Inde-
pendent congregation in Glasgow. In this character he possessed the esteem,
the love, and aftection of not only the flock over which he presided, but of the
clergy and people of every other denomination. In his conversation and
uniform practice, he gave a meritorious example of tlie powerful influence of
the Christian precepts, when men live under their influence, in leading them
not only to attend with diligence to all the relative duties, making them good
husbands, fathers, and neighbours, but loyal and dutiful subjects. Jlodest and
lanassuming in his manners, he endeavoured to hide himself from public notice;
but 'a city set on a hill cannot be hid.' His fellow-citizens, hailing him as a
father, and anxious to extend his sphere of useful action, showed their higli
esteem of this charitable Dissenter — charitable in the true sense of the word — by
calling him into the council of the city, and making him one of its magistrates,
an office which he discharged with singular diligence and paternal solicitude.

" During many years of the latter periol of his life, he was consulted on all
important measures, not only in matters relating to the public welfare of the city,
but the private concerns of its citizens ; nor did he ever refuse his services, for
he considered not his life as his own, but as devoted to the welfare of Iug
fellow-creatures." *

DALYELL, Sir Joiix Graham, Bart. — This accomplished student and
expositor of Scottish antiquarianism, like many who are devoted to that science,
was the descendant of an ancient family of historical note, being the second sou
of Sir Robert, the fourth baronet of Binns, Linlithgowshire, while his mother,
Elizabeth Graham, was of the family of Gartmore, and consequently a descen-
dant of the "great marquis." lie was born in 1777. Being devoted to more
peaceful pursuits than his renowned ancestors, he studied for the Scottish bar,
and was admitted a member of the Faculty of Advocates in 1707. His favourite
occupation, however, instead of inclining to that of a barrister on the boards of
the Parliament House, was to keep aloof from the din of wordy war, and take
refuge among the crypts of the Advocate's Library, absorbed in the study of that
valuable collection of MSS. connected with Scottish history and antiquities,
for which the library is so distinguished. The fruit of this was soon apparent ;
for two years had not elapsed after his enrolment as an advocate, when he pio-

* For this sketch of the life of David Dale, the puhiishers arc indebted to a gentlc-ni;in
of kindred spirit — Andrew LiddcU Esq,
V, z

178 SIR JOHN GRAHAM DALYELL.

duced his first Avork in quarto, entitled, "Fragments of Scottisli History',"
containing, among other valuable matter, tlie " Diary of Robert Birrell, burgess
of Edinburgh, from lo32 to 1G08." Little more than two years afterwards (in
1801), he published, in two volumes octavo, a " Collection of Scottish Poems of
the Sixteenth Century." Of the labour he underwent in the task, and the
diligence with -which he discharged it, an estimate may be formed from the
fact, that in preparing tliis collection he had examined about seven hundred
volumes of manuscripts. None, however, but tliose who are conversant with
this kind of literature, can befully aware of its difficulties, owing to the loose man-
ner in which the Scottish poems of this period were transcribed, and the variety
of readings, as well as amount of interpolated nonsense, with which they are dis-
figured. For these two works he found a fitting publisher in ]Mr. Archibald
Constable, at that time an antiquarian, and the friend of antiquarians, whose
old-book shop at the Cross was the favourite haunt of those distinguished men,
by whose publications lie afterwards became a prince in the realms of literature.

The next work of Mr. Graham Dalyell, was a " Tract chiefly relative to
IMonastic Antiquities, with some account of a recent search for the Remains of
the Scottisli Kings interred in the Abbey of Dunfermline." This work, which
appeared in 1809, was the first of a series of four or five thin octavos, illustra
tive of our Scottisli ecclesiastical records, which he issued at various intervals ;
and the chartularies which he severally illustrated were those of the bishoprics
of Aberdeen and Murray, the Abbey of Cambuskenneth, the Chapel Royal of
Stirling, and the Preceptory of St. Anthony at Leitli — the series having been
carried on till 1828. But this was not his only occupation, as during the long
interval he published an edition of the " Journal of Richard Bannatyne," the
secretary and amanuensis of John Knox; and another, of the " Scottish
Chronicle of Lindsay of Pitscottie." By way of literary divertisement amidst
these labours in our national antiquities, Mr Dalyell also published, in 1811,
" Some Account of an Ancient Manuscript of Martial's Epigrams, " which was
illustrated b3" an engraving, and anecdotes explanatory of the manners and cus-
toms of the Romans. Of these only thirty copies were printed, six of them
being on vellum.

A more important work than any of the preceding, and requiring a larger
amount of original thought as well as wider research, was published by Mr,
Dalyell in 1834, under the title of "An Essay on the Darker Superstitions of
Scotland." Such a title sufficiently intimates not only the extent of I'eading it
required among books the most trying to the patience of a diligent investigator,
but also those depths of time into which he was compelled to grope, in the
midst of darkness and doubt, while he traced our national superstitions to their
primitive homes in the forests of Germany, upon the shores of Norway, or even
the more dismal and unknown wilds of Scythia. The last work which he
published was the "Musical Memoirs of Scotland." This appeared in 1850,
when he was now in his seventy -third 3'ear; but the vivacity of style in which
it is written, and the sprightly character of the anecdotes with which the sub-
ject is illustrated, give no indications either of the feebleness or the apathy of
old age. The work possesses also the additional recommendation of a splendid
quarto form and many excellent engi-avings, for he was not only an ardent
lover of music, but a thorough judge of it as a science, and through life he had
always affectionately turned to it as a relief from his more severe occupations.

Besides those literary productions we have mentioned, comprising an author-

ARCHIBALD DOUGLAS (Bell-the-Cat). 179

ship of fifty years' duration, Mr. Graham Dalyell published "Observations on
some Interesting- Phenomena in Animal Physiology, exhibited by several
Species of Planarlte," 8vo, 1014. Another \York, which he published in 1847,
in two splendid quartos, enriched with more than a hundred coloured plates,
drawn from the living subjects, was entitled, " Rare and Remarkable Animals
of Scotland, represented from Living Subjects, with Practical Observations on
their Nature." He was also the author of several articles in the "Encyclopedia
Britaunica."

From the foregoing brief notice, some estimate may be formed of the literary
character of ilr. Dalyell. An antiquary at a time when Scottish antiqua-
rianism was little cultivated, his labours as well as his example gave a powerful
impulse to that study, which soon became so widely diffused, and has been pro-
ductive of such happy results. It is owing, indeed, to this spirit of inquiry,
that few histories of nations have been more effectually cleared from darkness,
and purified from error, than that of Scotland, although few have undergone
such a cruel process as that which Avas devised to annihilate it. But Mi*.
Dalyell was something more than an antiquary, although he stood in the front
rank of the order; he was also an accomplished classical scholar, and well
acquainted with mechanical science and natural history, of Avhich his writings
are an abundant proof. Although as an author he was so prolific, his diligence
and perseverance are the more to be admired, when we remember that such was
his fastidiousness in composition, that he would seldom commit his manuscript
to the press until it had been re- written four or five times over.

Sir John Graham Dalyell received the honour of knighthood by patent in
IQoG, and succeeded to the baronetcy of Binns, by the death of his elder brother,
in 1041. His own death occurred on the 7th of June, 1051. As he was never
married, he was succeeded in his title and estates by his brother. Sir William
Cunningham Cavendish Dalyell, commander in the royal navy.

DOUGLAS, AxiciiiBALD, surnamed Bell tiie-Cat, was the son of George,
fifth Earl of Angus. The elder branch of the noble house of Douglas, that was
represented by the holders of the earldom of that name, and the dukedom of
Touraine in France, had become so powerful, and so dangerous to the roj'al
fiimily, that the Stuarts had tried by evcr^^ plan, both of violence and polic}^, to
lessen its influence and circumscribe its power. One method which they
adopted was, to exalt the house of Angus, a younger branch of the family. But
this only superseded one evil by another, and the Earls of Angus soon threatened
to become as formidable to royal authority as the Earls of Douglas had formerly
been. Archibald, Avho succeeded to the earldom of Angus when only six or
seven years old, was born to an inheritance which his father had greatly
enlarged, so that when the young minor attained to manhood, he was by far
the most powerful nobleman in Scotland, and he was commonly called the
" Great Earl of Angus." He married, in 14G8, Elizabeth Boyd, daughter of
Robert, Lord Boj'd, the all-powerful and afterwards disgraced minister of James
III., by whom he had four sons and three daughters.

During the earlier part of the reign of James III., little of Angus is known,
except that he was distinguished for stature, strength, and courage, like most
of his race, as well as for great possessions and political influence. It was pro-
bably during this reign that an event occurred, characteristic of the man and
the times. One daj', at table, as the king was conversing with his courtiers, of
the men of Scotland who were pre-eminent in corporeal endowments, all pre-

ISO ARCHIBALD DOUGLAS (Bell-the-Cat).

sent, except Spence of Kilspindie, gave the preference to the Earl of Angup.
This man, in a hickless hour for hunsclf, began to speak disparagingly of the
earl, in the true Scottish fasliion of doubt, saying, " It is true, if all be good that
is up-come," insinuating that the earFs valour and courage might not be quite
corresponding to his appearance. Douglas heard of the taunt, and vowed a
deadly revenge. One day after this, while riding from Douglas to Tantallan,
having sent his train another way, the earl continued his journey, attended by
a single follower, each having a hawk on his wrist; and in the neighbourhood
of the town of Fala, they lighted at a brook, for the purpose of bathing their
birds. While thus emplo3^ed, the laird of Kilspindie approached them, travel-
ling from the opposite direction. "Is not this Spence 1 " the earl asked of Iila
retainer ; " the man who made question of my manhood ? I will go and give
him a trial of it, that we may know which of us is the better man." The
servant would have dissuaded him from encountering one his inferior in rank,
and offered to go in his stead; but to this Angus answered, " I see he hath one
with him ; do thou grapple with the attendant, whilst I deal with the master."
Having fastened their hawks, that they might not fly away, and mounted their
horses, the pair rode forward to achieve this double duel. " Wherefore did you
speak of me so contemptuously, and doubt whether my courage was equal to
my appearance? " cried Angus, in a loud tone of challenge. Spence, thus con-
fronted, and brought to bay, would fiiin have excused himself, but the otiier
would not be so satisfied. " We are both tall fellows, and one of us must pay
for it," he exclaimed ; while the otlier, warming in anger, replied, " If better
may not be, there is never an earl in Scotland but I will defend myself against
him, and kill him if I can, rather than that he should kill me." They alighted
from their horses, and commenced a desperate combat with their two-handed
swords. But the affair was of brief continuance ; for Angus, with one tremendous
blow, cut asunder the other's leg by the thigh-bone, so that the limb was lopped
off like a branch beneath the gardener's pruning-hook, and Spence died a few
moments after. When tlie conflict between the principals was thus ended,
Angus put a stop to that which had commenced between the two retainers, and
said to Spence's follower, " Go thy way, and tell my gossip the king that there
was nothing but fair play here. I know my gossip will be offended; but I
will get me into Liddesdale, and remain in the Hermitage till his anger is over.'
This he did ; and the only penalty he underwent for the deed was an exchange
of the lands of Liddesda'e for those of Bothwell, as the king declared that no
order could be kept vv'ith the Earls of Angus as long as they held the forme; .
In the liistory of Scotland, nothing can be more revolting than the feuds and
factions of the nobles, by which the country was rent asunder, unless it be the
readinCiS with which they joined the cause of England when their avarice or
ambition was solicited by a tempting bribe. Such had ever been the ctise since
the war of Scottish independence commenced. An excuse, perhaps, might bo
found for the earliest defaulters, in the fact that they were Anglo-Normans, who
had but recently become Scotsmen ; that they held estates in England sometimes
more valuable than those they possessed in Scotland ; and that their homage
was due to the sovereign of either kingdom indifferently, as their lord para-
mount. But no such excuse can be offered for their unworthy successors, who
continued the same course of treachery and double-dealing, after a descent of
jnore than two centuries had made them natives of the soil. Hence it was that
the reign of James III. was so full of trouble, and finally so disastrous. In conse-

ARCHIBALD DOUGLAS (Bell-tiie-Cat). 101

quence of his un warlike habits, and devotedness to mean favourites, the Scotti&h
nobles preferred his brother, the Duke of Albany, whose stirring spirit and
martial disposition were more to their taste; and when the latter intrigued
with the king of England to supplant his royal brother, and reign in his stead,
a powerful band of the Scottish nobility were ready to support him, although
the price of English aid was to be nothing less than the independence of Scot-
land. Albany was to be king ; but he was to reign as vassal of Edward IV.,
and do homage to the latter for his crown. In this infamous coalition, wc
regret to find the Earl of Angus a leading member; and from his possessing the
wardensliip of the eastern marches, by which the ke3's of Scotland were at hi?
belt, he seems to have been the firmest dependence of the unscrupulous Albany.
On one occasion, however, in the midst of these intrigues, we find Angus acting
with a more patriotic spirit. After a peaceful season of unwonted duration
between the two countries, James III., at the instigation of France, resolved in
1480 to make war on England ; upon which Edward IV. prepared for resistance,
by appointing his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, afterwards Ricliard III.,
lieutenant-general of the north, to conduct an invasion into Scotland. But
before this able leader could assemble his forces, the Earl of Angus, at the head
of a small army, made a furious irruption across the marches into England, and
for three days ravaged the rich districts of Northumberland, and then retired
unmolested, laden with plunder. After this bold deed, however, he retired
again to his intrigues ; and when Albany consented to hold the Scottish crown
from Edward IV. as his vassal, Angus was one of the commissioners appointed
by the duke to draw up the articles of negotiation, and complete the treaty.

In the meantime, the conduct of the weak infatuated king of Scotland seemed
too much to justify these treasonable proceedings. In addition to the few
scholars and lovers of the fine arts whom he had taken into his confidence, his
chief associates were astrologers, quacks, and low mechanics, whose society' he
preferred to that of his high-born nobles and experienced statesmen. It was
not wonderful, therefore, that not only the aristocracy, but also the commons
preferred, to such a sovereign, the statel}'- bearing, popular demeanour, and
chivalrous accomplishments of his brother, Albany. But of all the favourites
of James, the most valued, and consequently the most obnoxious, was Cochrane,
a man of low birth, and an architect by profession, but indignantly termed in
our old chronicles a stone-mason, whom the king had raised to the earldom of
Mar. Such a man was well fitted, as a royal favourite, for the ruin of a weak,
confiding master; for he not only outshone the nobles by the splendour of his
style of living, but even excelled most of them in personal comeliriess, strength,
and dexterity in warlike exercises, so that he could confront the frowning
courtiers with a fearlessness equal to their own. But his crowning offence, and
one for which he merited full punishment, was the advice which lie gave to his
sovereign during a season of great dearth, to debase the current coin, by which,
while he increased his own wealth, and enriched the royal ti'easury, the price
of provisions was raised, and the bitterness of famine aggravated. It seemed to
the nobles a convenient season to wreak their resentment, by sweeping the
royal favourites from their path. It is also alleged, that in this crisis the Earl
of Angus and his associates entertained the further design of detlu'oniiig James,
and exalting Albany in his room.

All being in readiness for the accomplishment of their purposes, the Duke or
Gloucester, who was privy to their design, put his forces in motion, and laid

132 ARCHIBALD DOUGLAS (Bell-tiie-Cat).

siege to the town of Berwick. A muster of the Scottish troops was the conse-
quence ; and an army of fifty thousand, that was assembled at the Borough-
muir marched first to Soutra, and then to Lauder, liaving the king at their
head, accompanied by his unworthy minions. ]\Iost conspicuous among these
was Cochrane, to whom tlie command of tlie artillery was intrusted, and who,
on this occasion, appeared with a splendour which few Scottish kings had
hitherto equalled. Ins pavilion was of silken drapery, the fastening chains of
which were richly gilt; his camp-furniture shone with gold and silver; and his
body-guard consisted of three hundred tall retainers, dressed in rich liveries,
and armed with battle-axes. It was the last glitter of a falling star before it
disappeared for ever ! On encamping at Lauder, the nobles assembled in the
church, and proceeded to deliberate upon the best means of removing tlie
favourites from the royal person. Cochrane, as the most obnoxious, was the
chief object at which their discussion pointed ; but to punish him was a task
of danger, not only on account of his master's protection, but his own coura;;<?,
and the military retainers by whom he was surrounded. All this was expressed
by Lord Gray, who repeated on the occasion a homely apologue. " The mice,"
he said, " having been continuall}' annoyed by the inroads of the cat, met in coun-
cil to devise the best mode of delivering themselves from her tyramiy. At length,
after various measures had been proposed, it was agreed that the best j^lan was
■0 hang a bell round her neck, that thus they might receive due notice of the
destroyer's approach. This pleased the whole meeting ; but just when they
were about to break up, the question occurred, ' What mouse will adventure to
hang the bell about the cat's neck? ' " Here the speaker paused ; upon which
Angus, raising his stalwart form in the midst of the council, briefly and boldly
exclaimed, " I will bell the cat ! " From this answer he derived the singular
cognomen by which he is known in Scottish history.

No sooner had this decision been announced than a knocking was heard at
the church door; upon which Douglas of Lochleven, who kept guard there,
demanded to know who it was that sought admittance. " It is I, the Earl of
Mar," cried the person without. He thought that a council of war had been
assembled, and was desirous to be present at tlieir deliberations. The door was
gladly opened to the victim, who entered, unsuspicious of danger. " It does
not become thee to wear this collar," cried Angus, stepping up to him, and
rudely snatching from his neck the gold chain which he wore ; " a rope would
suit thee better!" " Nor yet this horn," said Douglas of Lochleven, plucking
away the jewelled hunting-horn that dangled by his side ; " tliou hast already
hunted after mischief too lor.g!" Cochrane, as fearless as any man present,
imagined that nothing more than some rude pleasantry was intended, and
asked, "My lords, is this jest or earnest? " The only answer given was his
instant seizure; his hands were pinioned, and a guard was placed over him.
Having thus secured the principal culprit, the conspirators strode onward to
the royal tent ; and, before an alarm could be raised in the king's behalf, not
only his f;ivourites, but liiniself also were prisoners in their hands. No trial fol-
lowed of the men who were already prejudged and doomed. They were dragged
to Lauder bridge; and there Torpbichen the dancing-master, Hummil the
tailor, Rogers the musician, Leonard, Preston, and the other royal favourites,
were hanged over the parapet. Cochrane, who felt his " ruling passion strong
in death," only requested to be hanged with one of the silken cords from his
tent, and not strangled with a hempen rope, like a sorry cur; but, instead oF

Ar.CIIIBALT) DOUGLAS (Bell-tiie-Cai). 183

acceding to liis dying -wisli, they hanged him over the bridge in a halter of
horse hair. After this the nobles disbanded their feudal array, being onl}'
anxious to secure the person of the king, while the Duke of Gloucester was
enabled to take Berwick without resistance, and advance unopposed to the
capital. It ^Yas now deemed a fitting time by Angus and his associates to hint
at their plan, which they had kept in reserve, of dethroning the king, and
placing Albany in his room, under English protection ; but the Scottish nobles
were not only astonished, but indignant at the idea. They had caballed against
the king, and executed summar^^ justice upon his favourites ; but to sacrifice
tlie liberties of their country had never entered into their calculations. Bell-
the-Cat, therefore, with all his audacitj', was obliged to unite with them, not
only in opposing the English invasion, but effecting a reconciliation between
the royal brothers. After this last measure was accomplished, Angus returned
to his disloyal and unnational intrigues, as the principal negotiator of the Duke
of Albany with the English government ; until, at last, the duke himself was
impeached by the Estates as a traitor, and obliged to flee, first to England and
afterwards to France, where, a few years after, he was killed, not in actual
battle, but in the chance-medley of an idle tournament.

After the departure of the Duke of Albany from the kingdom, the Earl of
Angus scarcely appears in Scottish history ; or, if his name occurs, it is only
incidentally. It is scarcely to be supposed, however, that he remained idle
during the plots that were afterwards formed against James III. ; and it is
certain, that when the rebellion broke out, he was one of the insurgent lords
who fought against tlie royal army at the battle of Sauchie Burn, at which the
king was assassinated while he fled from the field. On the accession of James
IV., still a minor, the earl was allowed to take his full share in the government;
but when the young king had arrived at manhood, his vigorous intellect soon
perceived that the lords, who had arrayed him in arms against his father, and
procured his advancement to the throne, had only used him as a tool for their
own selfish purposes. He therefore regarded them with displeasure; and among
the foremost of these was the Earl of Angus, who, in consequence, went to Eng-
land full of resentment, and there entered into a secret treaty with Henry VII.,
the particulars of which are unknown. It appears, however, to have been so
suspicious, that on his return to Scotland, he was met by an order from the king
to confine himself in ward in his castle of Tantallan ; and soon after, the lands
and lordship of Liddesdale, and the castle of Hermitage, were taken from him,
and given to the Earl of Bothwell.

The reign of James IV. was popular and energetic — one of those reigns,
indeed, in which neither royal favourite nor royal antagonist can have much
hope of success. For years, tlierefore, extending from 1491 to 1513, we hear
nothing in our national annals of the bold ambitious Earl of Angus; and
it is probable that during this long interval he quietly took his place as a
Scottish councillor in the Estates, and a feudal chief among his retainers, neither
suspected nor giving cause of suspicion. It is also not unlikely, that seeing his
country in peace, and every year becoming more prosperous, his better feelings
may have taught him that those turbulent schemes in which he had been
formerly engaged were not, b3'- any means, the best for ultimately accomplish-
ing the liappiness and independence of Scotland. That such was the effect of
his retrospections, as years advanced upon him, may be charitably" concluded
from the closing scene of his career.

184 ARCHIBALD DOUGLAS (Dell-tiioCat).

That scene was connected with one of tlie saddest events in Scottish history.
Ileni-y VII., the leading feature of whose politics was to keep peace with Scot-
land, and whose endeavours to that effect had been eminently successful, died ;
and his son and successsr, Henry VIII., v/as to the full as quarrelsome as his
father had been prudent and conciliatory. Between two such fiery spirits,
therefore^ as himself and James IV., brothers-in-law though they were, the
unwonted tranquillity that had prevailed so long between the two kingdoms
could scarcely be expected to last much longer; and, in 1513, James invaded
England, at the head of an army one hundred thousand strong. Not only the
whole military force, but all the noble houses of Scotland, had been mustered
for the occasion ; and among the latter was Angus, still, in spite of his former
failures, the most powerful peer of the realm. But his experienced eye seems
to have soon detected the blunders and anticipated the disastrous close of this
expedition, which James commenced with a mere chivalrous freak. He was
advancing, forsooth, three steps into English ground to vindicate the beauty
and fair name of the Queen of France, as her chosen knight-errant and cham-
pion! The king's whole conduct was commensurate with this beginning. He
squandered his vast resources in the capture of a few paltry castles ; allowed
himself to be besotted with the charms of an English lady whom he had taken
prisoner, and who deliberately betrayed him to her countr3?men ; and loitered
away his opportunities in her company, until more than half his army had
deserted, while the English had assembled in full force. All this Angus wit-
nessed, and witnessed, perhaps, with tlie bitter consciousness tliat his past
dealings had deprived him of the moral influence by which he might have
effectually interposed and arrested the coming ruin. At length, to crown his
career of utter madness, James took up his position, and appointed his time for
the approaching action, exactly according to the wishes of Surrey, t];e English
general, who piqued the knight-errantry of the former to that effect. It was
now time for the Scottish nobles to interpose; and Angus, whose experience,
years, and rank entitled him to this privilege, earnestly advised the king either
to make an instant attack, or commence a retreat while it was still in his power.
But to these wise suggestions the king — across whose mind, perhaps, the scene
of Lauder bridge at that moment flitted — replied, '"' Angus, if you are afraid,
you may go home." The earl burst into tears at this degrading taunt, and
replied, that his former life might well have spared him such a reproach from
his sovereign^ " As for myself," he added, " my age renders my body of no
service, and my counsel is despised ; but I leave my two sons and my vassals
in the field. May the end be happy, and my forebodings unfounded!" With
these words he rode away from the encampment, accompanied by a few
attendants.

Ilis forebodings, alas, were but too well-founded ! The battle of Flodden was
fought, in which the flower of Scottish manhood and nobleness was " a' wcde
awa}^ ; " and the old disconsolate man could scarcely have reached his home,
and rested beneath its roof, when the stunning intelligence reached him. But
besides this great national calamity, by which Scotland was threatened with a
subjugation more complete than any she had yet experienced, Angus himself,
both as a father and a feudal chief, was heavily visited by the event; for his
two sons, George the Master of Angus, and Sir William Douglas of Glenbervie,
were both slain, along Avith two hundred gentlemen of the name of Douglas.
In consequence of tliese tidings, the earl retired to St. Mains in Galloway,

DAVID DOUGLAS. 185

where lie led a life of austere mortification and devotion, which, however, was
soon terminated ; for he died there about a year after, and his body was burled
in the church of St. Mains, while his heart was carried to Douglas, to the rest-
ing-place of many of his ancestry. His death occurred about the sixt^'^-first or
sixty-second year of his age.

DOUGLAS, David. — It seldom happens in the present day, when the path
of knowledge is accompanied with the comforts and facilities of a railway, that
the pursuit of science is closed with the honours of martyrdom. In tliis case,
however, the subject of the present memoir forms a rare and mournful excep-
tion.

David Douglas was born at Scone, in Perthshire, in the year 1703, and was
the son of a working mason. After having received a common education at the
parish school of Kinnoul, he was, at an early period, placed as an apprentice in
the garden of the Earl of Mansfield, at Scone Palace. In this occupation his
favourite pursuit had full scope and development, so that l;o soon became
remarkable in the neighbourhood for his love of reading during the winter, and
his researches in quest of wild plants during the months of summer. Thus he
continued till his twentieth year, when a still more favourable opportunit}'- of
improvement presented itself at Valleyfield, the seat of Sir Robert Preston, in
whose garden, famous for its store of rich exotics, he became a workman ; and the
head gardener of the establishment, Mr. Stewart, having observed the ardour of
his young assistant in the study of botany as a science, procured him access to
Sir Robert Preston's rich botanical library. From Valleyfield, David Douglas
removed to Glasgow, where he was employed as gardener in the Botanic Garden
of the university; and here the valuable knowledge he had acquired was so
highly estimated by Dr., afterwards Sir William Hooker, the professor of
Botany at Glasgow, that he made him the companion of his professional explor-
ations while collecting materials for his " Flora Scotica." In tliis way Douglas
had ample opportunity of improving his knowledge of plants in the Western
Highlands, over which these scientific tours extended, as well as recommending
himself to the favourable notice of one who could well appreciate his acquire-
ments. The result was, that Professor Hooker recommended his talented
assistant as a botanical collector to the Horticultural Society of London, by
whom he was sent in 1823 to the United States, for the purpose of enriching
our home collection in botany with choice transatlantic specimens; and this he
successfully accomplished, by bringing home before the close of the year many
fine plants, as well as a valuable collection of fruit trees, by which the store of
the society in the latter important production was materially augmented.

The zeal and ability which Douglas had shown on this occasion soon procured
his employment in a wider field of enterprise. This was to explore the botanical
resources of the country adjoining the Columbia River, and southwards towards
California, and ascertain its multifarious productions. He left England for
this purpose in July 182-1, and as soon as the vessel touclied the shore he com-
menced his operations. This was at Rio-de- Janeiro, where a large collection of
rare orchidaceous plants and bulbs rewarded his labours. Among these bulbs
was a new species of gesneria, hitherto unknown to the botanists of England,
and which Mr. Sabine, the secretary of the Horticultural Society, named the
G. Doiiglassii, in honour of its discoverei'. So rich was the soil, and so plenti-
ful the productions of this part of South America, that Douglas, who could here
have increased his scientific treasures to an indefinite extent, was obliged to

V. 2 A

18G DAVID DOUGLAS.

leave it with regret. In doubling Cape Horn, he shot several curious birds,
only to be found in these latitudes, and carefully prepared them for being
brought home. The vessel touched at the island of Juan Fernandez, that
romantic residence of Alexander Selkirk ; and Douglas, who Avas delighted
with its wooded scenery and soil, sowed here a plentiful collection of garden
seeds, in the hope that some future Hobinson Crusoe would be comforted by
the produce, should such a person again become its tenant. On the 7th of
April, 1825, he arrived at Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia, where his proper
mission was to commence ; and here his fitness for it was well attested, by the
immense collection of seeds and dried specimens which he transmitted to the
Horticultural Society at home. Among his discoveries were several species of
3, pine of enormous size, one of these, belonging to the class which he called the
Pinus Lamhertiana, in honour of Mr. Lambert, vice-president of the Linntean
Society, measuring 215 feet in height, and 57 feet 9 inches in circumference.
The cones of this forest Titan, of which he sent home specimens, were sixteen inches
long, and eleven in circumference. But they had something else than mere bulk
to recommend them ; for their kernel, which is pleasant to the taste, and nutri-
tious, is roasted or pounded into cakes by the Indians, and used as an important
article of food; while the resin of the tree, on being subjected to the action of
fire, acquires a sweet taste, and is used by the natives as sugar. After having
spent two years in the country adjoining the Columbia, and e.xploring it in
every direction, Douglas, in the spring of 1027, left Fort Vancouver, and crossed
the Rocky Mountains to Hudson's Bay, where he met Sir John Franklin, Dr.
Richardson, and Captain Back, on their way homeward from their second
overland Arctic expedition, with whom he returned to England. His success-
ful labours in botanical science, and the important additions he had made to it,
insured him a hearty v/elcome among the most distinguished of the scientific
scholars in London ; so that, without solicitation, and free of all expense, he was
elected a fellow of the Geological, Zoological, and Linnsan Societies, He Avas
also requested to publish his travels, and a liberal offer to this effect was made
to him by Mr. Murray, the publisher; but though he commenced the under-
taking, he did not live to complete it, so that his authorship was confined to
several papers which he contributed to the "Transactions" of the three societies
of which he was elected a fellow ; and extracts from his letters to Dr. Hooker,
which were published in "Brewster's Edinburgh Journal" for January*-, 1828,

After remaining in London for two ^^ears, Mr, Douglas resumed his duties, and
set off upon that last scientific tour which was destined to a melancholy termi-
nation. He I'eturned to the Columbia River in 1029, and after some time spent
in exploration among his former fields of research, which he prosecuted Avith his
wonted ardour and success, he went to the Sandwich Islands. The inhabitants
of these islands being in the practice of trapping wild bulls in pits dug for the
purpose, Mr. Douglas, one evening, after a few months' residence, fell into one
of these excavations, in which an animal had been previously snared ; and the
fierce creature, already maddened by its captivity, fell upon him, so that next
morning he was found dead, and his body dreadfully mangled. This tragical
event occurred on the 12th of July, 1834.

Thus prematurely, in the thirty- sixth year of his age, was the life of this
enterprising traveller and skilful botanist cut short. The value of his dis-
coveries, even in so brief a career, it would be difficult fully to appreciate. He
introduced into our country almost all the new hardy plants that enrich our

JxlMES DOUGLAS (Eael of Douglas). 187

gardens. To these may be added many ornamental shrubs, as well as valuable
timber trees that adorn our sylvan plantations, and give promise of extensive
future advantage to Britain. Of the plants alone, which are too numerous to
specify in this work, he introduced fifty-three of the woody, and 145 of the
herbaceous genus, while his dried collection of Californian plants alone consists of
about 800 different kinds. He was thus no mere curiosity hunter, but a bene-
factor to society at large; and it may be, that while new productions are
implanted in our soil, and naturalized in our climate, the name of the humble
but sagacious and enterprising individual who thus benetited our country for
ages to come, will pass into utter forgetfulness. But if he has been unable to
command immortality, he has done more — he has deserved it.

DOUGLAS, James, Earl of Douglas. — This distinguished warrior, the
close of whose life was so brilliant and romantic, was the second who bore the
title of the earldom. From his earliest years he had been trained to warfare, hi
wliich his deeds were so remarkable that he was intrusted with high command,
while the utmost confidence was reposed in his valour and leadership. This
was especially the case in his final expedition, which was crowned by the victory
of Otterburn.

At this period, Robert II., High Steward of Scotland, and son-in-law of
Robert Bruce, was seated upon the throne of Scotland. Ilis youth had been
spent in war, in which he showed great activity and courage ; but after his
accession to the crown, he relapsed into a peaceful state, that was supposed b_y
liis impatient nobles to be merely the result of indolence. With this cliaracter
he had already ruled eighteen years, while the war of independence against
England still continued to rage ; but notwithstanding his inertness, the valour
of the Scottish nobility, and especially the Douglases, had succeeded in repelling
every English inroad. At length, in 1388, a favourable opportunity seemed to
have arrived of carrying an invasion into England. The Black Prince, the
great terror of France and prop of the English crown, was dead. Richard II.,
the King of England, now only twenty-one years old, was ruling with all the
folly and arrogance of boyhood ; his council was rent with divisions and feuds,
the nobility were arrayed against liim, while the commons, lately awakened
into a sense of their rights by the Wat Tyler insurrection, were equally hostile
to the king who misruled, and to the chiefs who impoverished and oppressed
them. This state of things presented an opportunity for retaliation and plunder
which the Scots could not resist, and they resolved to change their defensive
into an aggressive warfare. A council was held for this purpose at Edinburgh ;
and although Robert II. was opposed to the dangerous measure, his wishes
were disregarded. A military muster of the kingdom was ordered to meet at
Yetholm, and on the day appointed an army Avas assembled, composed of the
chief force of Scotland. Forty thousand spearmen, including a band of Scottish
archers, and twelve hundred men-at arms, were mustered upon the field of
meeting— a greater force than that which had sufficed to achieve the victory of
Bannockburn. The Earl of Fife, the king's second son, to whom the leading
of this expedition had been committed, was neither a brave soldier nor a skilful
general, but he had craft and policy enough to pass for both, while his chief
captains were men inured to war, and well acquainted with the nortliern borders
of England. The great question now at issue was the manner in which the
invasion should be conducted, and the part of the English border that could be
best assailed ; and this was soon settled by a fortunate incident. The English

188 JAMES DOUGLAS (Earl of Douglas).

wardens, alarmed at this formidable muster, had sent a squire, disguised as a
Scottish man-at-arms, to ascertain its nature and purposes, in which he v/as
fully successful ; but, on returning, he found that his horse, which lie had tied
to a tree in a neighbouring forest, had been stolen by some border freebooter.
Encumbered by his armour, and suspected to be other than he seemed, froni
jlius travelling on foot in such an array, he was soon pounced upon by the light-
iieeled outposts, and brought before the Scottish lords, to whom he made a full
confession of all the plans and preparations of his masters. Judging it unsafe
to hazard a pitched battle against so large an army, they had resolved to remain
quiet until the Scots had crossed the marches, after which they would break in
upon Scotland at some undefended point, and work their will in a counter-
invasion, This intelligence decided the Scottish lords upon a plan that should
at once have the invasion of England and the defence of their own country for
its object. Their army was to be divided, and England invaded both by the
eastern and vrestern marches, so that the enemy should find sufficient occupa
lion in their own country. In pursuance of this plan, the Earl of Fife, with
the bulk of the army, marched through Liddesdale and Galloway, intending to
advance upon Carlisle, while the other inroad was to break into Northumber-
land. As this last was designed for the lightest part of the campaign, not more
than three hundred knights and men-at-arms, and about two thousand foot, wtre
allotted to the service; but they were placed under the command of James, Earl
of Douglas, who, though young, was already accounted one of the most practised
and skilful leaders of the country. He was acconipanied by George and John
Dunbar, Earls of Slarch and Moray, and several of the most distinguished Scot-
tish knights, who were proud to serve under such a commander.

All being in readiness, the Earl of Douglas commenced the campaign by
entering Northumberland. He crossed the Tyne, and by swift and secret
marches approached Durham, having given orders to his army not to commence
plundering until they had passed that city. It was then only that the English
were aware of an enemy in the midst of them, by conflagration and havoc among
their richest districts, while the course of the Scots, as they shifted hither and
thither by rapid marches, could only be traced by burning villages and a dun
atmosphere of smoke. The English, in the meantime, kept within their walls,
imagining that this small body was the advanced guard of the main army,
instead of an unsupported band of daring assailants. This vras especially the
case in Newcastle, where Henry Percy, son of the Earl of Northumberland,
famed in English history under the name of Hotspur; Sir Ralph, his brother,
whose valour was scarcely inferior to his own, v>'ith many gallant knights and
border barons, and a numerous host of military retainers, instead of sallying out,
held themselves in readiness for a siege. At length, having wasted the country
for miles, and enriched themselves with plunder, the Scots prepared to retreat
as rapidly as they had advanced, and had marched as far as Newcastle on their
return, when Douglas and his brave companions in arms resolved to halt two
days before its ramparts, and dare tlie defenders to come forth and do their worst.
This defiance, which breathed the full spirit of chivalry, was not likely to reacli
the Hotspur's ears in vain ; the gates and sally-ports of Newcastle were thrown
open, and numerous bands of the English rushed out, headed by tlieir far famed
leader, while the skirmishes that extended over the two daj's were both frequent
and desperate. At length, in one of these encounters, Douglas and Hotspur niet
front to front, and between these two, each reckoned the bravest of his country,

JAMES DOUGLAS (Eaut. of Douglas). 189

<i liand-to-hand combat ensued, such as the wars of Scotland and England had
seldom Avitncssed. In the furious close of the joust, Hotspur was unhorsed,
and but for the rescue that interposed, would have been taken prisoner; while
Douglas, seizing the lance of his fallen antagonist, with its silken embroidered
pennon attaclied to it, waved it aloft in triumph, and exclaimed in the hearing
of both armies, " I will bear this token of your prowess into Scotland, and set
it on high on my castle of Dalkeith ! " " That shalt thou never do," cried
Percy in return ; "you may be sure you shall not pass the bounds of this coun-
try till you be met with in such wise, that j'ou shall make no vaunting thereof."
'■ Well, sir," replied the Douglas, "come then this night to my encampment,
and there seek for your pennon," Thus ended their ominous conference.

After a challenge so given and received, a conflict was inevitable, and Douglas,
in continuing his retreat, marched in order of battle, and ready for any sudden
onslaught of the enemy. At length the Scots reached the castle and village of
Otterburn, about twenty-eight miles from Newcastle, on the second day of their
march, and would have continued their progress into Scotland unmolested, but
for the earnest entreaties of Earl Douglas, who besought them to stay a few days
there, to give Hotspur an opportunity of redeeming his pennon. To this they
consented, and chose their ground with considerable militar}^ skill, having their
encampment defended in front and on one side by a marsh, and on the other by
a hill. They had not long to wait. Burning with eagerness to recover his lost
pennon and retrieve his tarnished honour, and learning at length that the small
lorce under the Earl of Douglas was unsupported by the army. Hotspur left
Nevrcastle after dinner, and commenced a rapid march in pursuit of the Scots.
By waiting a little longer for the Bishop of Durham, who was hastening to his
assistance, his army might have been doubled, and his success insured ; but as
it was, he greatly outnumbered his opponents, as he was followed by eight
thousand foot and six hundred lances. In tlie evening ho reached the encamp-
ment of the Scots, wdio, after a day of weary seige against the castle of Otter-
burn, had betaken themselves to rest, but were roused by the cry of " A Percy !
a Percy!" that announced the coming foe. They instantly sprung to their
feet, and betook themselves to their weapons. But without giving further time,
the English commenced with an impetuous onset upon the front of the Scottish
army, drawn up behind the marsh ; through which, wearied with a hasty pursuit,
ilicy were obliged to flounder as they best could. And now it was that the ad-
mirable generalship of Douglas, in selecting and fortifying his encampment, was
iLiUy apparent. The front ranks thus assailed, and who bore the first brunt of the
battle, were not regular soldiers, but suttlers and camp followers, placed in charge
of the plundered horses and cattle, and whose position was strongly fortified
with the carriages and waggons that were laden with English spoil. Although
only armed with knives and clubs, these men, sheltered by their strong defences,
made such a stubborn resistance as kept the enemy for a time at bay, and stil!
farther confirmed them in the delusion that the whole Scottish force was novv-
in action.

Not a moment of the precious interval thus afforded was lost by the Eail of
Douglas. At the first alarm he started from supper, where he and his knights
sat in their gowns and doublets, and armed in such haste that his armour was
unclasped in many places. The regular troops were encamped upon firm ground
behind the marsh; and these he suddenly drew up, and silently marched round
the small wooded hill that flanked their position, so that when the English had

ICO JAMES DOUGLAS (Eabl of Douglas).

forced the barrier of waggons, and believed that all was now their own, they
were astounded at the apparition of the whole Scottish army advancing upon
theui from an unexpected quarter, with tlie honoured Douglas banner of the
crowned heart floating over its head. They had thus been wasting their
valour upon the scum of the invaders, and the real battle was still to be fought
and won ! Furious with disappointment. Hotspur drew up his men in new
order for the coming onset. Even yet he might be the victor, for his soldiers
not only outnumbered the enemy by three to one, but were equal in discipline,
and superior in military equipments. It seemed inevitable that the banner of
the crowned heart must be thrown down and trodden in the dust, unless the
skilful head and mighty arm of its lord could maintain its honours against such
a fearful disparity. The combatants closed by the light of an autumnal moon,
that shone with an uncertain glimmer upon their mail, and half revealed their
movements, as they shifted to and fro in the struggle of life and death. Thus
they continued hour after hour, while neither party thought of yieldiu"-,
although the ground was slippery with blood, and covered with the dead and
dying— each closed in deadly grapple with his antagonist, that he might make
his stroke more sure in the dim changeful moonlight. At length there appeared
a wavering among the Scots ; they reeled, and began to give back before the
weight of superior numbers, when Douglas, finding that he must set his life
upon a cast, prepared himself for a final personal effort. He ordered his banner
to be advanced, and brandishing in both hands a heavy battle-axe, such as few
men could wield, he shouted his war-cry of " A Douglas ! " and rushed into the
thickest of the press. At every stroke an enemy w'ent down, and a lane was
cleared before his onset; but his ardour carried him so far in advance, that he
soon found himself unsupported, and three spears bore him to the earth, each
inflicting a mortal wound. Some time elapsed before his gallant companions
could overtake his onward career. At length the Earl of March, with his
brother of Moray, who had entered battle with such haste that he had fought
all night without his helmet, and Sir James Lindsay, one of the most stalwart
of Scottish knights, cleared their AViiy to the spot, where they found their
brave commander dying, while none was beside him but William Lundie, his
chaplain, a soldier priest, who had followed his steps through the whole conflict,
and now stood ready, lance in hand, beside his master, to defend him in his
last moments. Lindsay was the first who recognized the dying Douglas, and
stooping down, he asked him how he fared. " But indifFerentlj^," replied the
earl ; " but blessed be God, most of my ancestors have died on fields of battle,
and not on beds of down. There is a prophecy in our house, that a dead
Douglas shall win a field, and I think that this night it will be accomplished.
Conceal my death, raise my banner, shout my war-cry, and revenge my fall."
With these Avords he expired.

In obedience to the dying injunctions of Douglas, his companions concealed
the body among the tall fern that grew beside it, raised aloft his standard that
was reeling amidst the conflict, and shouted the Douglas war-cry, as if he was
still at their head ; while the English, who knew that some mighty champion
had lately fallen, but were ignorant that it was the Scottish leader, gave back
in turn at the sound of his dreaded name. The Scots, who also believed that
he was still alive, seconded the fresh onset of their leaders, and advanced with
such renewed courage, that the English were at last routed, driven from the
field, and dispersed, after their bravest had fallen, or been taken prisoners.

vriLLIAM DOUGLAS (Knigut of Liddesdale). IGl

Among the last was Hotspur liimself, who had fought through tlie whole affray
with his wonted prowess ; Sir Ralph, his brother, who was grievously wounded;
tlie seneschal of York, the captain of Berwick, and several English knights and
gentlemen, who were esteemed the choice of their border chivalry.

Such was the battle of Otterburn, fought in the month of August, and in the
year 1388. The loss of the English attests the pertinacity of the engagement, for
they had eighteen hundred killed, about a thousand wounded, and as many taken
prisoners. Such a victory also evinces, more than the most laboured eulogium,
the high military skill of the Earl of Douglas, so that, had he lived, his renown
might have worthily taken a place by the side of the hero of Bannockburn.
But he difid while still young, and achieved the victory even v/hen dead by the
terror of his name — a different fate from that of his gallant rival, Henry Percy,
who was first a traitor to Richard 11., his natural sovereign, and afterwards to
Henry IV., a usurper, whom he had mainly contributed to elevate to the throne,
and who finally died a proclaimed rebel on the field of Shrewsbury, amidst
disaster and defeat. On the day after the engagement, the bishop of Durham,
whose movements had been anticipated by the impetuosity of Hotspur, arrived
upon the field, at the head of ten thousand horse, and a large arra,y of foot— an
army sufficient, as it seemed, to trample down the victors at a single charge.
But the spirit of Douglas was still among his followers, so that under the com-
mand of Moray, the}"- drew^ up in their former position, and showed themselves
as ready for a second combat as they had been for the first ; and the bishop,
daunted by their bold appearance, drew off his forces, and retired without a
blow. The Scots then resumed their route homeward unmolested ; but instead
of a joyful triumphal march, as it might well have been after such a victory, it
was rather a sad and slow funeral procession, in the centre of which was a car
that convej^ed the body of their hei'oto the burial-place of his illustrious ances-
tors. It is not often thus that a soldier's love and sj'mpathy so overwhelm
a soldier's pride, in the full flush of his success. The funeral was performed
with pompous military honours in the Abbey of Melrose, while the epitaph
of the departed was indelibly engraven in the hearts of his countrymen and the
page of Scottish history.

DOUGLAS, William. — William Douglas, knight of Liddesdale, otherwise
Avell kno.vn in Scottish historj' by the title of the Flower of Chivalry, has been
reckoned, on the authority of John de Fordun, to have been a natural son of
Sir James Douglas, the companion in arms of Robert Bruce, and as such he is
generally mentioned by our Scottish historians. Others, however, make him
out to have been lawful son of Sir James Douglas of Loudon. It is in vain to
inquire into the date of birth, or early life of the distinguished personages of this
period, as the first notice we generally receive of them is in some historic action,
when they had attained the age of manhood. Sir William became possessor of
the lauds of Liddesdale, through marriage .with Margaret Graham, daughter of
Sir John Graham, lord of Abercorn. His first military exploit was the sur-
prise and discomfiture of John Baliol at Annan, after the battle of Dupplin.
On this occasion, the knight of Liddesdale marched under the banner of An-
drew Murray, Earl of Bothwell; and so successful was the small band of Scot-
tish patriots, that the adherents of the usurper were completely routed by a
sudden night attack, Baliol himself escaping with difficulty, and more than
half-naked, upon an unsaddled and unbridled horse, into England. In the fol-
lowing year (1333) Sir William was not so fortunate. Having been appointed

102 WILLIAM DOUGLAS (Knight of Liddesdalf).

warden of the west marches, in consequence of his able conduct in the surprise
at Annan, his district was soon invaded by tlie English, under Sir Anthony do
Lucy ; and in a battle which ensued near Lochmaben, towards the end ol'
March, Douglas was taken prisoner, and carried to Edward III., by whose com-
mand he was put in irons, and imprisoned for two years. During this interval
the battle of Ilalidon liill occurred, in which tlie Scots were defeated with
great slaughter, and their country again subdued. But in 1835, the knight of
Liddesdale was set free, on pa3'ment of a heavy ransom ; and on returning to
Scotland, he was one of the nobles who sat in the parliament held at Dairsie,
near Cupar-Fife, in the same year. He had not long been at liberty when a
full opportunity occurred of vindicating the liberties of his country, and tlie
rightful sovereignty of his young king, now a minor, and living in France.
Count Guy of Namur having crossed the sea to aid the English, invaded Scot-
land with a considerable body of his foreign men-at-arms, and advanced as far
as Edinburgli, the castle of which was at that time dismantled. A furious con-
flict commenced between these new invaders and the Scots on the Borough-
muir, in which the latter were on the point of being worsted, when the knight
of Liddesdale opportunely came down from the Pentlands with a reinforcement,
and defeated the enemy, who retired for shelter to the ruins of the castle, where
they slew their horses, and made a rampart of their dead bodies. But hunger
and thirst at last compelled these brave foreigners to capitulate, and they were
generously allowed to return to England unmolested, on condition of serving no
longer in a Scottish invasion.

This successful skirmish was followed by several others, in which the knight
of Liddesdale took an important share. lie then passed over into Fife, and took
in succession tlie castles of St. Andrews, Falkland, and Leuchars, that held out
for the English. After this he returned to Lothian, and betook himself to his
favourite haunts of the Pentlands, thence to sally out against the English as oc-
casion offered. The chief object of his solicitude was Edinburgh Castle, which
he was eager to wrest from the enemy. On one of these occasions, learning
that the English soldiers in the town had become confident and careless, he at
night suddenly rushed down upon them from his fastnesses, and slew 400 of
their number while they were stupified with sleep and drunkenness. It was to a
warfare in detail of this description that the Scots invariably betook themselves
when the enemy were in too great force to be encountered in a general action ;
and it was by sucli skirmishes that they generally recovered their national free-
dom, even when their cause seemed to be at the worst. After this, by a series of
daring enterprises, Y/illiam Douglas recovered Teviotdale, Annandale, Kiths-
dale, and Clydesdale from the English. These successes so raised his reputation,
that Henry, earl of Derby, who was appointed to the command of the English
troops in Scotland, was eager to try his valour in single combat with the bold
insurgent. They accordingly encountered on horseback at Berwick, but at tlie
first career, Douglas was so severely wounded in the hand by accident with his
own lance, that the combat had to be stayed. Soon after, the knight of Liddes-
dale, in an encounter with Sir Thomas Barclay, was worsted, with the loss of all
his followers except three, himself escaping with difficulty through the darkness
of the night. But this mischance he soon retrieved by a series of skirmishes, in
which, with greatly inferior numbers, he routed the English, and shook their
possession of Scotland. But his most remarkable exploit of this nature was a
desperate encounter, or rather series of encounters, which he had in the course

WILLIAM DOUGLAS (Kmght of LIDDESD:^LE). 19^

of one day with Sir Laurence Abcrnetliy, a leader of the party of Baliol. On this
occasion Sir William Douglas was four times defeated ; but with unconquerable
pertinacity he still returned to the charge, and in the fifth was completely victo-
rious. It was by these exploits, and especially the last, that he worthily won the
title of the '' Flower of Chivalry." After this he was sent by the High Steward,
now governor of Scotland, to France, to communicate the state of aifairs to his
young sovereign, David, and obtain assistance from the French king. In this
mission he was so successful, that he soon returned with a squadron of five
French sliips of war, that sailed up the Tay to aid the Steward, at this time em-
ployed in the siege of Perth, which was held by the English. Sir William
joined the besiegers, but was wounded in the leg by a javelin discharged from
a springald, and unfitted for a time for further action. So opportune, how-
ever, was his arrival with the reinforcement, that the Scots, who were about to
abandon the siege, resumed it with fresh vigour, and Perth was soon after taken.

The cause of Baliol was now at so low an ebb, and the country so cleared of
the enemy, that little remained in their possession except the castle of Edin-
burgh, from which the knight of Liddesdale was eager to expel them. But the
garrison were so numerous, and the defences so strong, that an open siege was
hopeless, and he therefore had recourse to stratagem. lie prevailed upon a mer-
chant sea-captain of Dundee, named Walter Curr^^, to bring his ship round to
the Forth, and pretend to be an Englishman pursued by the Scots, and desirouy
of the protection of the castle, offering at the same time to supply the garrison
v.'ith provisions. The stratagem succeeded. The commander of the castle be-
spoke a cargo of victuals on the following morning, and Douglas, who was lurk-
ing in the neighbourhood, at the head of 200 followers, at this intelligence dis-
guised himself and twelve of his men with the gray frocks of the mariners
thrown over their armour, and joined the convoy of Curry. The gates were
opened, and the draw-bridge lowered to give entrance to the waggons and their
pretended drivers; but as soon as they came under the gateway, tliey stabbed
the warder, and blew a horn to summon the rest of their party to the spot. Be-
fore these could arrive, the cry of treason rang through the castle, and brought
the governor and his soldiers upon the daring assailants, who would soon have
been overpowered, but for their gallant defence in the narrow gateway, while
they had taken the precaution so to arrange the waggons that the portcullis
could not be lowered. In the meantime, the followers of Douglas rushed up
the castle hill, and entered the conflict, which they maintained with such
vigour, that the whole garrison were put to the sword, except Limosin, tlie go-
vernor, and six squires, who escaped. After this important acquisition, the
knight of Liddesdale placed the castle under the command of Archibald Douglas,
one of his relatives.

Scotland was thus completely freed from the enemy, and the people vrere
impatient for the return of their king from France, to which country he had
been sent in boyhood, during the ascendancy of the Baliol faction. Accordingly,
David II., now in his eighteenth year, landed at Innerbervie on the 4th of June,
1341, and was received with rapture by his subjects, who recognized in him the
pledge of their national freedom, as well as the son of their " good king Robert."
But this feeling was soon damped by the difficulties of the young sovereign's
position, as well as the indiscretions of his government. As for the knight of
Liddesdale, he, like his compatriots, had so long been accustomed to indepen-
dent military command during the interregnum, that he was unwilling to sub-

V. 2 b

191 \VILLIAM DOUGLAS (Knight of LiDDEsnALE).

Tiiit to royal authority when it opposed liis own personal interests; and of this
he soon gave a fatal proof, in the foul murder of Sir Alexander Ramsay of Dal-
■wolsie, as brave a leader and a better man tlian himself, because the latter was
appointed keeper of Roxburgh Castle, and sheriff of Teviotdale, offices Avhich
Douglas thought should have been conferred upon himself, as he had recovered
tliese places from the enemy with much toil and hazard. The particulars of
this revolting atrocity are too well known, both from history and popular tra-
dition, to require a further account. It is enough to state tliat after such a
deed — as cowardly as it was cruel, even according to the principles of chivalry
itself — the knight of Liddesdale continued to be entitled, as well as esteemed,
the " Flower of Chivalry ;" and that David II., so far from being able to punish
the murderer, was obliged to invest him with the office for the sake of which
the crime had been committed.

After this action, and during the short interval of peace that continued be-
tween England and Scotland, the character of Sir William Douglas, liitherto so
distinguished for patriotism, appears to have become very questionable. This
has been ascertained from the fact, that Edward III. was already tampering with
him to forsake the Scottish, and join the English interests, and for this pur-
pose had appointed Henry de Percy, Maurice de Berkeley, and Thomas de Lacy
" his commissioners," as their missive fully expressed it, " with i'uU powers to
treat of, and conclude a treaty with William Douglas, to receive him into our
faith, peace, and amity, and to secure him in a reward." Such a negotiation
could scarcely have been thought of, unless Douglas, even already had been ex-
hibiting symptoms of most unpatriotic wavering. He held several meetings, not
only with these commissioners, but also with Baliol himself, and appears to
have fully accorded to their proposals, and agreed to accept the Avages of the
English king. But whether the promised advantages were too uncertain, or
the risk of such a change of principle too great, the treaty was abruptly broken
off; and Douglas, as if to quell all suspicion, made a furious inroad, at the head
of a large force, across the English border, although the truce between the two
countries still continued; burnt Carlisle and Penrith; and after a skirmish with
tlie English, in which the bishop of Carlisle was unhorsed, he retreated hastily
into Scotland. By this act the truce was at an end, and David II., believing
the opportunity to be favourable for a great English invasion, as Edward III,
Vi'ith the flower of his arm}' was now in France, assembled a numerous army,
with which he advanced to the English border, and took the castle of Liddcl
after a six days' siege. It was now that the knight of Liddesdale counselled a
retreat. His experience had taught him the strength of the English northern
counties, and the warlike character of their barons, and perhaps he had seen
enough of the military character of David to question his fitness for such a diffi-
cult enterprise. But his advice was received both by king and nobles with in-
dignation and scorn. " Must we only fight for your gain?" they fiercely replied ;
*' you have filled your own coft'ers with English gold, and secured your own lands
by our valour, and now you would restrain us from our share in the plun-
der?" They added, that England was now emptied of its best defenders, so that
nothing stood between them and a march even to London itself, but cowardly
priests and base hinds and mechanics. Thus, even already, the moral influence
of William Douglas was gone, the patriotic character of his past achievementn
Avent for nothing, and he was obliged to follow in a career where he had no lead-
ing voice, and for which he could anticipate nothing but defeat and disaster.

"WILLIAM DOUGLAS (Knigkt os Liddesdal;). 195

The Scottish armj'' continued its inroad of merciless desolation and plnndei
until it came near Durham, wlien it encamped at a place whicii Fordnn calls
Beau repair, but is now well known by the name of Bear Parle. It was as
ill -chosen as anj^ locality could have been for such a purpose ; for the Scottish
troops, that depended so much upon unity of action for success, were divided into
irregular unconnected masses by the liedges and ditches with which the ground
was intersected, so that they resembled sheep inclosed within hurdles, ready
for selection and slaughter ; Avliile the gi'ound surrounding their encampment
was so undulating that an enemy could approach them before the3'- were aware.
And that enemy, without their knowing it, was now within six miles of their
encampment. The English barons had bestirred themselves so effectually that
they were at the head of a numerous force, and ready to meet the invaders on
er^ual terms. On tlie morning of the day on which the battle occurred, tlie
kniglit ofLiddesdale, still fearing the worst, rode out at the head of a strong
body of cavalry, to ascertain the whereabouts of the English, and procure forage
and provisions ; but he had not rode far when he unexpectedly found himself
in front of their wliole army. He was instantl^^ assailed by overwhehning
multitudes, and, after a fierce resistance, compelled to flee, after losing oOO men-
at arms ; while the first intelligence which the Scots received of the enemy'a
approach was from the return of Douglas on the spur, with the few survivors,
who leaped the inclosures, and their pursuers, who drew bridle, and waited the
coming of their main body. Into the particulars of the fatal conflict that fol-
lowed, commonly called the battle of Durham, which was fought on the 17th of
October, 1S4G, it is not our purpose at present to enter : it was to the Scots a
mournful but fitting conclusion to an attempt rashly undertaken, and wise
counsels scornfully rejected. Fifteen thousand of their soldiers fell ; their king,
and the chief of their knights and nobles, were taken prisoners ; and among the
latter was Sir William Douglas, who, along with the Earl of Moray, had com-
manded the right wing. He was again to become the inmate of an English
prison ! The capture of such an enemy, also, was reckoned so important, that
Robert de Bertram, the soldier who took him prisoner, obtained a pension of 200
merks to him and his heirs, until the king, now absent in France, should pro-
vide him in lands of equal value.

The history of a prisoner is commonly a blank ; but to this the captivity of
Douglas forms an exception. He was still able to nurse his feuds and wreak
Ills resentments, and of this Sir David Berkeley soon had fatal experience.
This man, who had assassinated Sir John Douglas, brother of the knight ofLid-
desdale, was himself assassinated by Sir John St. Michael, purchased, as was
alleged, to commit this deed by Sir William himself. This occurred in 1350,
after the latter had been in prison nearly four years. In the meantime, Edward
III. being in want of money for the prosecution of his French wars, endeavoured
to recruit his emptj- coffers by the ransom of the prisoners taken at the battle
of Durham, so that many of the Scottish nobles were enabled to return to their
homes ; but from this favour the knight of Liddesdale was excepted. The king
of England knew his high military renown and influence in Scotland ; and it
is probable that upon these qualities, combined with the knight's unscrupulous
moral character, ho depended greatly for the furtherance of a scheme which he
liad now at heart. This was the possession of Scotland, not, however, by con.
quest, which had been already tried in vain, or through the vice-royalty of Baliol,
who was nov,' throvrn aside as a worthless instrument, but through tlie voluu-

lOG \Y1LLIAM DOUGLAS (Knight of Liddesdalk).

tary consent and cession of king David himself. David was a childless man ; he
was weary of his captivity, and ready to purchase liberty on any terms ; and
the High Steward of Scotland, who had been appointed his successor by tha
Scottish Parliament, failing heirs of his own body, had shown little anxiety for
the liberation of his captive sovereign. On these several accounts David was
er.sil}^ induced to enter into the purposes of the English king. The knight of
Liddesdale was also persuaded to purchase his liberty upon similar terms ; and
thus Scotland had for its betrayers its own king and the bravest of its champions.
The conditions into which Douglas entered with Edward III. in this singular
treaty were the following : — He bound himself and his heirs to serve the king
of England in all wars whatever, except against his own nation ; with the pro-
viso annexed, that he might renounce, if he pleased, the benefit of this excep-
tion : That lie should furnish ten men-at-arms and ten light horsemen, for
three months, at his own charges : That, should the French or other foreigners
join the Scots, or the Scots join the French or other foreigners in invading
England, he should do his utmost to annoy all the invaders "except the Scots:"
That he should not openly, or in secret, give counsel or aid against the king of
England or his heirs, in behalf of his own nation or of any others : That the
English should do no hurt to his lands or his people, and his people do no hurt
to the English, except in self-defence : That he should permit the English at all
times to pass through his lands without molestation : That he should renounce
all claim to the castle of Liddel : and that should the English, or the men of the
estates of the knight of Liddesdale, injure each other, by firing houses or stack-
yards, plundering, or committing any such offences, the treaty should not thereby
be annulled ; but that the parties now contracting should forthwith cause the
damage to be mutually liquidated and repaired. To these strange terms Douglas
was to subscribe by oath for their exact fulfilment, on pain of being held a dis-
loyal and perjured man and a false liar (what else did such a treaty make him?);
and that he should give his daughter and his nearest male heir as hostages, to
remain in the custody of the king of England for two years. In return for all
this he was to be released from captivity, and to have a grant of the territory of
Liddesdale, Hermitage Castle, and certain lands in the interior of Annandale.

Sir William, having obtained his liberty at such a shameful price, returned to
Scotland, and attempted to put his treasonable designs in execution. But dur-
ing his absence another William Douglas had taken his place in influence and
estimation. This was the nephew of the good Sir James, also his ov/n god-son,
who, having been bred to arms in the wars in France, had returned to Scotland,
and assumed his place as the head of the Douglases, a position which his valour
was well fitted to maintain, for he quickly drove the English from Douglas-
dale, Ettrick Forest, and Teviotdale. To him the knight of Liddesdale applied,
in the hope of winning him over to the cause of Edward ; but this nobleman
not only rejected tlie base proposal, but, being made thus aware of the treachery
on foot, assembled his vassals, broke into Galloway, and compelled the barons
of that wild district to renounce the cause of England, and return to their
.rightful allegiance. Soon after, Annandale, which the treacherous knight had
designed to make the head-quarters of his perfidious movements, was overrun
and occupied by the High Steward and his son. Thus Sir William was foiled
at every point, and that chiefly through the agency of his own god-son, whom
he therefore hated with a deadly hatred. These failures were soon closed by a
deadly termination. One day, while the knight of Liddesdale was hunting in

SIR, WILLIAM DOUGLAS.

107

tlie depths of Ettrick Forest, he was set upon and slain at a place called Gal-
ford, by a band of armed men employed for that purpose by Lord William him-
self. The causes of such a deed — which in the estimation of the church was
nothing less than spiritual parricide, on account of the religious relationship of
tlie parties — can scarcely be found in the contending interests of the rivals, and
the mutual injuries that had passed between them ; and therefore it was al-
leged that the " Flower of Chivalry," whose morals were these of too many
knights of the period, had seduced the affections of Lord William's wife, and was
thus requited for his crime. Such was the report of the time, and Fordun has
quoted the following veise from an ancient ballad upon the subject: —

" The Countess of Douglas out of her bower she came.

And loudly there did she call,
' It is for the lord of Liddcsdale
That I let the tears down fall.' "

Tlie body, on being found, was carried to Linden Kirk, a chapel in Ettrick
Forest, and afterwards interred in Melrose Abbey. But by his murder of Ram-
say, as well as his subsequent treason, Sir William Douglas had obliterated the
recollection of his great and gallant deeds, so that he died unregretted, and was
soon forgot.

DOUGLAS, Sir William, was the illegitimate son of Sir Archibald, lord
of Galloway, commonly called the Black Douglas ; but in those days the bend
sinister upon the shield of one who was otherwise a good knight and true, was
not attended with the opprobrium that branded it in earlier or later periods.
Of all the heroes of the illustrious house from which he sprung. Sir William
appears to have been the most amiable ; while in deeds of arms, altliough his
career was cut short at an early period, he equalled the greatest of his name
His personal advantages, in an age when these were of highest account, cor-
responded with his reputation ; for he was not only of a beautiful counte
nance, but a tall, commanding form ; while his strength was such that few could
cope with him on equal terms. Ilis manners also were so gentle and engaging,
that he was as much the delight of his friends as he was the terror of his ene-
mies.* He was a young warrior, in short, whom Homer would have selected
as his hero, or early Greece have exalted into a demigod. As his career was to
be so brief, it was early commenced ; for we find, that while still very young,
he was distinguished not only by his personal feats of valour, but his abilities
as a leader, so that in his many skirmishes with the English he was generally
successful, even when the latter were greatly superior in numbers. Nor were
the charms of romance wanting to complete his history. Robert II., his so-
vereign, had a beautiful daughter, called Egidia, who was sought in marriage
not only by the noblest of her father's court, but by the king of France, who, in
the true fashion of chlvaliy, had fallen in love with her from the descriptions of
his knights that had visited Scotland as auxiliaries, and who privately sent a
painter thither, that he might obtain her picture. But to the highest nobility,
and even to royalty itself, Egidia preferred the landless and illegitimate, but

* John de Fordun thus sums up his qualities, both corporeal and mental: — " Ilic homo
luger colore; non multum carnosus, sedossosus; forma gigantcus, erectus et procerus,
stronuus et affabilis, dulcis et amabilis, liberalis et la^tus, fidus et facetus." The fidelity
of this description may be relied upon, from the fact that de Fordun speaks of Sir Wil^
liam as one of his contemporaries:.

198

SIR WILLIAM DOUGLAS.

brave, good, and attractive Sir William Douglas, Avho had no inheritance but
his sword. It was wonderful that in such a case the course of true love should
have run smooth t but so it did. Robert II. approved of her affection, and gave
her hand to the young knight, with the fair lordship of Nithsdale for her
dowr}^.

Sir William was not permitted to rest long in peace with a beautiful prin-
cess for his bride; for the piracies of the Irish upon the coast of Galloway, in
the neighbourhood of his new possession, summoned him to arms. Resolved to
chastise the pirates upon their own territory, and in their own strongholds, he
mustered a force of five hundred lances and their military attendants, crossed
the Irish sea, and made a descent upon the coast in the neighbourhood of tlie
town of Carlingford. Being unable to procure boats for the landing of his small
army simultaneously, he advanced with a part of it, and made a bold assault
upon the outworks of the town. Struck with terror, the inhabitants, even
though their ramparts were still unsealed, made proposals for a treaty of sur-
render ; and to obtain sufficient time to draw up the terms, they promised a
large sum of money. Sir William Douglas received their envoi's with courtesy
and trusting to their good fiiith in keeping the armistice, he sent out 200 of his
soldiers, under the command of Robert Stuart, laird of Durriesdeer, to bring
provisions to his ships. But it was a hollow truce on the part of the men
of Carlingford, for they sent by night a messenger to Dundalk, where the Eng-
lish were in greatest force, representing the small number of the Scots, and the
ease with which they might be overpowered. Five hundred English horoo
rode out of Dundalk at the welcome tidings, and came down unexpectedly upon
the Scots, while the men of Carlingford sallied from their gates in great num-
bei's, to aid in trampling down their enemies, who in the faith of the truce
were employed in lading their vessels. But Douglas instantly drew up his
small band into an impenetrable phalanx ; their long spears threw off the at-
tacks of the cavalry ; and notwithstanding their immense superiority, the enemy
were completely routed, and driven off the field. For this breach of treaty the
town of Carlingford was burnt to the ground, and fifteen merchant ships, laden
with goods, that lay at anchor in the harbour, were seized by the Scots. On
returning homeward, Douglas landed on the Isle of IMan, which he ravaged, and
after this his little armament, enriched with spoil, anchored safely in Loch
Ilyan, in Galloway.

As soon as he had stepped on shore, Sir William heard, for the first time, of the
extensive inroad that had commenced upon the English border in 1383, which
ended in the victory of Otterburn; and eager for fresh honour, instead of return-
ing home, he rode to the Scottish encampment, accompanied by a band of his
bravest followers. In the division of the army that was made for the purpose of
a double invasion. Sir William was retained with that part of it which was
destined for the invasion of England by the way of Carlisle, and thus he had
not the good fortune to accompany James, Earl of Douglas, in his daring inroad
upon Durham. After the battle of Otterburn, an interval of peace between
England and Scotland succeeded, of which Sir William was soon weary ; and,
impatient for military action, he turned his attention to the continent, where he
found a congenial sphere of occupation. Of late years, the mingled heroism and
devotion of the crusading spirit, which had lost its footing in Syria, endeavoured
to find occupation in the extirpation or conversion of the idolaters of Europe ;
and the Teutonic knights, the successors of the gallant Templars, had already

THOMAS DRUMMOND. ]99

become renowned and powerful by their victories in Prussia and Lithuania,
wliose inhabitants were still benighted pagans. Sir William resolved to be-
come a soldier in what he doubtless considered a holy war, and enlist under
the banner of the Teutonic order. lie accordingly set sail, and landed at
Dantzic, which was now the head quarters and capital of these military monks.
It appears, from the history of the period, that the order at present was filled
with bold adventurers from every quarter of Europe; but, among these, the
deeds of the j^oung lord of Nithsdale were soon so pre-eminent, that he was
appointed to the important charge of admiral of tlie fleet — an office that placed
him in rank and importance nearest to the grand-master of the order. Two
hundred and forty ships, such as war-ships then were, sailed under his com-
mand— an important fact, which Fordun is careful to specify. But even already
the career of Sir William was about to terminate, and that too by an event
which made it matter of regret that ho had not fallen in his own country upon
some well-fought field. Among the adventurers from England who had come
to the aid of the Teutonic knights, was a certain Lord Cliflbrd, whose national
jealousy had taken such umbrage at the honours conferred upon the illustrious
Scot, that he first insulted, and then challenged him to single combat. The day
and place v\'ere appointed with the usual formalities; and as such a conflict
must be at ontrance, Sir William repaired to France to procure good armour
against the approaching trial. His adversary then took advantage of this
absence to caluminate him as a coward who had deserted the appointment; but
hearing this rumour, Sir William hastily returned to Dantzic, and presented
himself before the set day. It was now^ Clifford's turn to tremble. He dreaded
an encounter with such a redoubted antagonist ; and to avoid it, he hired a band
of assassins, by whom Sir William was basely murdered. This event must have
happened somewhere about the year 1890-1. In this wa}^ Sir William Douglas,
like a gigantic shadow, appears, passes, and vanishes, and fills but a brief page
of that history which he might have so greatly amplified and so brightly adorned.
At his death he left but one child, a daugliter, by the Princess Egidia, who, on
attaining maturity, was married to William, Earl of Orkney.

DRUMMOND, CArTAix Thomas. — Among the many distinguished engineers
of whom Scotland has been so prolific in the present age, the subject of this notice
v>'ill always hold a conspicuous place. He was born at Edinbui'gh, in October,
1797, and was the second of three sons ; and being deprived of his father while
still in infanc3% the care of his education devolved uj^on his mother, who dis-
charged her duty in that respect so effectually that the Captain ever afterwards
spoke of her v.-itli affectionate gratitude, and attributed much of his professional
success to her careful and efficient training. After having undergone the usual
course of a classical education at the High School of Edinburgh, he was entered
at AVoolwich as a cadet in 1813 ; and such was the persevering energy and dili-
gence with which his home-training had inspired him, that he soon distanced
his school-fellows, and passed through the successive steps of the military col-
lege with a rapidity altogether unusual in that institution. It was not in
mathematics alone, also, that he excelled, but in every other department of
science to which he turned his attention ; for such was his intellectual tenacity
and power of application, that he never relinquished a subject until he had com-
pletely mastered it. Of this he once afforded a striking proof while still in one
of the junior academies of the college. Not being satisfied with a difficult
demonstration in conic sections contained in Ilutton's '• Course of Mathematics,"

200 THOMAS DRITMMOND.

■which formed the'text-book of the class, j'oung Drummond sought and discovered
a solution of a more simple character, and on a wholly original principle. Siicli
■was the merit of this hold innovation, that it replaced the solution of Huttou
among the professors of Woolwich College, ■who were proud of their young
pupil, and entertained the highest hopes of his future success as a military engi-
neer. The same reflective independent spirit characterized his studies after he
had left Woolwich to follow out the practical instruction of his pi'ofession. On
one occasion his attention was directed to the various inventions by which the
use of the old pontoon was to be superseded ; and lie contrived a model, wliich
•was reckoned a master-piece of ingenuity. It was, says his friend Captain Daw-
son, who describes it, "like a man-of-war's gig or galley, sharp at both ends,
and cut ti'ansverely into sections, for facility of transport, as well as to prevent
it from sinking if injured in any one part; each section was perfect in itself, and
they admitted of being bolted together, the partitions felling under the thwarts
or seats. The dockyard men, to whom he showed it, said it would row better
tlian any boat except a gig; and it was light, and capable of being transported
from place to place on horseback."

' After having spent some time in training, both at Plymouth and Chatham,
during which he embraced every opportunity of improving his professional
knowledge, not only by books and the conversation of intelligent officers and
scientific scholars, but also by a visit to France, to study its army of occupation
and witness a great military review, Drummond was stationed at Edinburgh,
where his charge consisted in the superintendence and repair of public works.
But this sphere was too limited for his active spirit ; and, finding little prospect
of advancement in his profession, he had serious thoughts of abandoning it foi'
the bar, and had actually enrolled his name as a student at Lincoln's Inn, when
fortunately, in the autumn of 1819, he met in Edinburgh with Colonel Colby,
at that time engaged in the trigonometrical survey of the Highlands. Delighted
to have such an associate in his labours, the colonel soon induced the disappointed
engineer to abandon all further thoughts of the study of law, and join him in
the survey. As these new duties required Drummond to reside in London
during the winter, he availed himself of the opportunity not onl}' to improve
himself in the higher departments of mathematics, but also to study the science
of chemistry, which he did with his wonted energy and success. While attending,
for this purpose, the lectures of Professors Faraday and Brande, his attention
was called to the subject of the incandescence of lime; and conceiving that this
might be made available for his own profession, he purchased, on his return
from tlie lecture-room, a blow-pipe, charcoal, and other necessary apparatus, and
commenced his course of experiments. These were prosecuted evening after
evening, until he had attained the desired result. He found that the light de-
rived from the prepared lime ■was more brilliant than that of the Argand lamp ;
and that it concentrated the rays more closely towards the focal point of the
parabolic mirror, by which they were reflected in close parallel rays, instead of
a few near the focus, as was the case with the Argands.

An opportunity was soon given to test this important discovery. In 1824,
Colonel Colby was appointed to make a survey of Ireland, and took with him
Lieutenant Drummond as his principal assistant. The misty atmosphere of
Ireland made this survey a work of peculiar difiicult}', as distant objects would
often be imperceptibly seen under the old system of lighting; but the Colonel
was also aware of the improved lamp which Drummond had invented, and

EEV. HENRY DUNCAN, D.D. 201

sanguine as to its results. His hopes were justified by a striking experiment.
A station called Slieve Snauglit, in Donegal, had long been looked for in vain
from Davis' Mountain, near Belfast, about sixty-six miles distant, witli the haze
of Lougli Neagh lying between. To overcome this difficulty, Drummond
repaired to Slieve Snaught, accompanied by a small party, and taking with him
one of his lamps. The night on Avhich the experiment was made was dark but
cloudless, and the mountain covered with snow, when the sliivering surve3'0rs
left their cold encampment to make the decisive trial. The hour had been
fixed, and an Argand lamp had been placed on an intermediate church tower,
to telegraph the appearance of the light on Slieve Snaught to those on Davis'
Jlountain. The hour had past, and the sentry was about to leave his post,
when the light suddenly burst out like a brilliant star from the top of the
hitherto invisible peak, to the delight of the astonished spectators, who were
watching with intense anxiety from the other station of survey. Another
invention of almost equal importance with the Drummond's light was his helio-
stat, by which the difficulty arising from the rapid motion of the earth in its
orbit round the sun, was obviated by the most simple means, and the work of
survey made no longer dependent upon a complicated apparatus that required
frequent shifting and removal; so that, v»hile it could take observations at the
distance of a hundred miles, a single soldier was sufficient to carry and plant the
instrument upon the requisite spot.

The high scientific knowledge which Drummond possessed, and the valuable
services he had rendered to the Irish survey, were not lost sight of, and demands
soon occurred to call him into a higher sphere of duty. These were, the pre-
parations necessary before the passing of the Reform Bill, by laying down the
boundaries to the old and the new boroughs. This very difficult task he dis-
charged so ably, and so much to the satisfaction of the public, as to silence the
murmurs of cavillers, who complained because a young lieutenant of engineers
had been appointed to so important a charge. After it was finished, he returned
to his work of surveying ; but in the midst of it was appointed private secretary
to Lord Spencer, in which office he continued till the dissolution of the govern-
ment, when he was rev/arded with a pension of £-300 per annum, obtained for
him through the interest of Lord Brougham. In 1835, he was appointed under-
secretary for Ireland, where he was placed at the head of the commission on
railways; but his incessant labour in this department, along Avith his other
duties of a political nature, are supposed to have accelerated his death, which
occurred April 15, 1840. His memory will continue to be affectionately
cherished, not only by the distinguished statesmen with whom he acted, but
by society at large ; while the scientific will regret that public duties should
have latterly engrossed a mind so admirably fitted for the silent walks of inven-
tion and discovery.

DUNCAN, Rev. Henry, D.D. — This excellent divine, whoso life v/as so
distinguished by active practical usefulness, was born at Lochrutton manse, on
the 8th of October, 1774. His father, the Rev. George Duncan, was minister
of the parish of Lochrutton, in the stewartry of Kirkcudbright, and his gi-and-
father had also held the same parochial charge. Indeed, both by father and
mother, Henry Duncan traced his descent from a line of ministers that almost
reached to the days of the Covenant, so that he was wont to compare his family
to the tribe of Levi. It was not wonderful, therefore, that not only himself, but
his j-ounger brother, Thomas, should direct their choice and their studies to tha

V. 2 c

202 REV. HENRY DUNCAN, D.D.

ministry. After a careful home education at the manse of Lochruttonj and
subsequently a public one at tlie academy of Dumfries, Henry Duncan went to
the university of St. Andrews in 1778. Two years after, a temporary interrup-
tion in his college studies occurred, in consequence of his near relation, Dr. Cur-
rie, the biographer of Burns, inviting him to enter a banking establishment in
Liverpool, witli a view to becoming a merchant. Henry, whose purposes were
not as yet very definite, complied, and in 1790 exchanged the occupations of a
student for those of a banker's clerk. It was a happy interruption, however,
when we take into account the knowledge of the world, financial experience,
and practical habits by which he was afterwai'ds so distinguished among his
classical brethren, and so useful to the church — and especially in the establish-
ment of savings banks, by which he was so great a benefactor to society at
large.

During the three years which Henry Duncan thus spent in Liverpool, his
time was not wholly employed in the details of business and banking calcula-
tions. From his natural bias, talents, and previous education, he could not be
happy without the enjoyments of literary exercise, and therefore he not only
sought every opportunity of frequenting intellectual society, but renewed liis
old studies, and wrote poetry ; he even went so far as to publish a theological
tract, which he wrote against Unitarianism, at that time the prevalent heresy
of Liverpool. It was a new feature in religious controversy for a boy of six-
teen to publish his lucubrations upon such a subject, and more surprising still
that the pamphlet sliould liave been generally admired ; but our wonder ceases
when we are told that its principal arguments were derived from his father's
letters, with whom he had corresponded on the subject. All these were signi-
ficant tokens that he would not voluntarily become a banker: his choice was to
be a parish minister ratlier than a millionaire ; and this, too, not at the time
from religious considerations, but the opportunities which he would enjoy for
those literary pursuits which, in his eyes, formed the best occupation of life.
After much reluctance his wishes were complied witli, and he returned to Scot-
land in 179.3, and continued his studies for five years, partly at the university
of Edinburgh, and partly at that of Glasgow. Having completed the required
courses, he was taken upon trial by the presbytery of Dumfries, and licensed as
a preacher of the gospel in 1798, after which, like many other licentiates, he
betook himself to the occupation of a family tutor, until a presentation should
induct him into a settled charge. The place of his sojourn on this occasion was
the Highlands ; and as the wliole heather was in a blaze of patriotic ardour at
this period, from the threat of a French invasion, the young enthusiastic
preacher caught the genial spirit, and carried it so far, that besides girding him-
self with the usual weapons of military exercise, he assumed the Highland
garb, to the great astonishment and mirth of its legitimate wearers, who had
never seen theology so habited. It was as well that all this should speedily
terminate, and accordingly, in 1799, not less than two presentations and one
popular call offered themselves at the same period to his acceptance : these were
to the parishes of Lochmaben and Ruth well, and to a congregation of Presbyte-
rians in Ireland. Mr. Duncan made his election in favour of Ruthwell, al-
though it was the least tempting of the two parishes. It presented, however,
what he considered of chief account — the best opportunity of a life of clerical
usefulness. His standard of such a life at this period must be taken into ac-
count, and it is thus announced by his biographer : — " If the eternal welfare of

KEV. HENRY DUNCAN, D.D. 203

Ills flock occupied an_y considerable share in his thoughts, I fear it must be con-
fessed that the hope of advancing these interests rested chiefly on the influence
he might possess in cultivating their kind and benevolent affections, in promot-
ing a social and friendly spirit among their families, harmonizing their differ-
ences, rousing their patriotism, and becoming their example in all that is
amiable, Avorth}^, and honourable. Such seems to have been his beau-ideal of
a country minister's life ; and if he could live to promote tliese purposes, he
does not seem to have questioned that he should amply fulfil all the purposes of
a CJiristian ministry."

The first act of Mr. Duncan after receiving the presentation was well fitted
to endear him to the affections of his future parishioners. By law he was en-
titled to the crop upon the glebe, should his settlement take place before its
removal, by merely paying the expenses for seed and labour. This right, how-
ever, he waived in favour of the widow and daughter of the late incumbent,
allowing her in the meantime to put into the ground what crop she pleased ;
and, in order that she might reap it undisturbed by legal technicalities, he de-
layed his settlement till the 19th of September, when he was solemnly inducted
into his parish at the age of twenty-five, with a pastoral charge delivered to him
by the aged minister who presided, from the text, "Let no man despise thy
youth." On being settled, he entered into his clerical duties, so far as he un-
derstood them, Avith all the warmth of his affectionate heart, and all the energy
of his active spirit, visiting and catechising from house to house, in addition to
his public labours on the Sabbath. But the deep ignorance, and somewhat
lawless border character of his flock — for the parish lies on the shores of the
Sol way, and within the border district— were not the only difficulties with which
he had to contend ; for to these impediments were added the extreme poverty of
the people, occasioned by a course of scanty harvests, while the landlords were
at their wits' end, and knew not what remedy to devise. Finding that some-
thing must be done, and that speedily, Mr. Duncan, at his own risk, and through
his two brothers settled in Liverpool, procured a cargo of Indian corn, which
was retailed by his orders at prime cost, and in several cases, where no money
could be forthcoming, upon credit. But while comfort Avas thus introduced
into the cottages of Ruihwell, and himself the only loser, and that, also, to a
considerable amount, he rejoiced in the expense and trouble he had undergone,
as his plan was adopted by many, not only on that but subsequent occasions, in
several famine-visited districts over the extent of Scotland. Another public
case equally urgent, although of a less clerical character, in which Mr. Duncan at
this time was involved, arose from the threats of an invasion of Britain, wliich
the French government still continued to hold out. Justly conceiving it to be
his duty to set an example of Christian patriotism on this occasion, and still
animated with youthful ardour, he roused his parishioners to resistance, and in
consequence of this, a corps called the Rnthwell Volunteers, was soon embodied,
with the minister for their captain. This office, indeed, whether willing or not,
it was necessary that he should accept, otherwise his parishioners would scarcely
have cared to come forward. Mr. Duncan, although perhaps the first clerical
captain of this period, did not long stand alone, as many of the other parishes
of Scotland followed the instance of Ruthwell, so that the same voice which
uttered the military commands of to-day, Avas often employed in the public re-
ligious ministrations of to morrow. It Avas the old spirit of Drumclog and

201: IlEV. HENRY DUNCAN, D.D.

Botliwell Bridge come back again, and no Protestant country but Scotland could
perliaps have given sucli an exam^ile.

Thus far Mr. Duncan had gone on, beloved by his people, to whom he was a
fair example of all that is dignified and amiable in the natural man, as well as
zealous in the discharge of all those general duties witli which his office was
connected. Sometliing more, however, was still necessary to bring him into
vital contact with the spiritual life of his saci'ed calling, and show how much as
yet was wanting in his endeavours to promote the eternal welfare of those com-
mitted to his charge. His example and his efforts, excellent though they were,
had still fallen short of the mark. But in 180i the time had come when those
spiritual perceptions were to be vouchsafed to him, under which lie Avould con-
tinue his ministerial career with new ardour and redoubled efficac}'. This new
light, too, under whicli such a happy change was to be accomplished, was neither
to arise from the study of the works of the great masters of theology, nor yet
from the reasonings or example of his learned co-presbyters ; but from a despised
people, as yet almost new in Scotland, and whose names were seldom mentioned
except for purposes of ridicule and merriment. One man and two women oL'
the society called Friends, or Quakers, had arrived at Annan, and announced
their intention of holding a meeting in the evening for worship. Induced by
curiosity, Mr. Duncan, who was in the town, attended the meeting, and was
struck by the warmth and simplicity with which these strange preachers enun-
ciated those Christian doctrines that had long been fomiliar to his mind, but to
which the new style, whereby they were now embodied, imparted the charm
and power of novelty. An interview with the Quakers followed, and the
impression was deepened ; the minister gradually began to perceive that he had
something still to learn before he could become an effective Christian teacher.
The lesson abode with him until, through a course of years, its fruits were ripened
and matured ; and ever after he was wont to revert with pleasure to this visit
of the "Friends,"' and the benefits he had derived from them. On the same
year which so powerfully influenced him for the future, he married Miss Agnes
Craig, the only surviving daughter of his predecessor, in whose energy of cha-
racter, refined taste, and active practical disposition, he found a mind congenial
to his own in the work of life that still lay before him, and a counsellor to
whom he could refer in every difficulty.

And now that the stirring enterprising mind of the minister of Ruthwell had
received a new impulse, as well as a fit companion and assistant, his career was
to be traced in a series of benevolent parochial plans, from which he never desisted
until they were realized. Ruthwell was not only a very poor parish, but sub-
ject to periodical visits of extreme destitution ; and for such a population,
amounting to HOO souls, the fund for the poor, which was collected at the
cliurch door, amounted annually to only about £25. As this constitutional
poverty threatened to grow with the changes of modern livincr, and as Mr.
Duncan dreaded the establishment of that artificial and compulsory charity
called a poor's-rate, by which idleness would be encouraged and the honourable
independent spirit of the poor broken down, he had set in earnest from the be-
ginning to make them a self-supporting people. A friendly society, indeed, had
been established among them so early as 17'JG ; but from the imperfection of its
plan, and the inexperience of its supporters, it had come to nothing. Undis-
mayed by the evil omen of such a failure, and the despondency it had occasioned.

ItEV. IlENllY DUNCAN, D.D. 20o

"Mv. Duncan brought the whole strength and experience of his mind to a revival
of the plan under better arrangements ; and the result was, that several friendly-
societies were originated in Ruthwell, having 300 members independent of t\\3
"parish box," and happy with each other in their public meetings and tempe-
rate soirees. Coincident with this was Mr. Duncan's concern for the intellectual
as well as physical and moral elevation of his people ; and therefore he endea-
voured, by conversational lectures which he held on the Sunday evenings, to
illustrate the Divine attributes, as manifested in the sciences of astronomy, pliy-
sics, and history. This, however, unfortunately staggered the people, who as vet
were neither prepared for such Sabbath ministrations, nor to believe that tlie earth
turns round, and that the stars are of such prodigious magnitude. "With the
same purpose of elevating the lower orders, and inspiring them with the capacities
as well as right feelings of industrious manly independence, he next commenced,
in 1 808, a serial work, of great efficacy in its day, under the title of the " Scotch
Cheap Repository." This periodical, consisting of short tracts and stories, was
formed upon the plan of Mrs. Hannah More's " Cheap jMagazine ;" and both
were the precursors of penny magazines. Chambers' journals, and the other
economical popular literature of the present day. In supplying the materials
for his " Repository," Mr. Duncan was assisted by five of his clerical brethren,
and by ]\Iiss Hamilton, the justl^^-famed authoress of the " Cottagers of Glen-
burnie;" while his own principal contribution, entitled " The Cottage Fireside,
or Parish Schoolmaster," afterwards published in a separate form, was thus
eulogized by that Aristarchus of modern criticism, the " Quarterly Review : " — •
" In point of genuine humour and pathos, we are inclined to think that it fairly
merits a place by the side of the ' Cottagers of Glenburnie,' while the know-
ledge it displays of Scottish manners and character is more correct and more
profound." Without going out of his way to seek it, Mr. Duncan's talents as
an author were now so highly appreciated, that his pen was in demand both
from the " Edinburgh EncycloptEdia" and the "Christian Instructor" — to tho
former of which he supplied the articles "Blair" and " Blacklock," and to the
latter several valuable contributions extending over many years. Ills next
principal object was the establishment of a provincial newspaper, the "Weekly
Journal'' of Dumfries being but a poor production, while the important events
of the day, and the growing wants of the public mind, if not supplied with ade-
quate sustenance, would have only opened the way for the pi'oductions of poli-
tical discontent, false philosoi^hy, and infidelity. Aware of this danger, and
eager to avail himself of the opportunities of such a season for indoctrinating the
public with substantial, healthy, and purified intelligence, Mr. Duncan had
recourse to his brothers in Liverpool for the pecuniary means of action, and
with their aid was enabled, at the close of 1809, to start the "Dumfries and
Galloway Courier," a weekly newspaper, to which, without announcing the
fact, he officiated as editor for the first seven years. In this way he origi-
nated the best and most influential of all our Scottish provincial journals, and
happily its reputation did not deteriorate under the able management of Mr.
M'Diarmid, who, in 1817, succeeded Mr. Duncan in the editorship. All this
while, the wonderful activity which the minister of Ruthwell displayed, and
the amount of versatile intelligence he brought to a great variety of action, can-
not be too widely known. While he was careful in all his pulpit preparations,
and enriching the columns of his journal with powerful and original articles, lio
was conducting, as secretary, the business of the " Dumfries Auxiliary Bible

:06 EEV. HENRY DUNCAN, D.D.

Societ}'," wliicli he had formed in 1810; and as president, that of the "Dum-
fries Missionary Society." But tliis was not all. He was surrounding the
manse of Uuthwell with a rich picturesque garden, and so effectually cultivat-
ing his fifty acre glebe, that while a new scenery at length rose beneath his
hand out of a bleak waste, his labours were the most instructive models that
could have been presented to his own people and neiglibourhood of what might
be achieved in horticulture and agriculture, by one's own taste and industry,
independent of a plentiful capital. Within the manse, too, there was no elbow-
chair repose after such out-door occupation ; on the contrai-y, it was a fit bee-
hive for such a scenery, and resounded from morning till night with the hum of
happ3', active industry — for a domestic school was there, composed of a few
boarders whom Mr. Duncan taught in addition to his own family, and in
whose training he was the most careful, as well as most affectionate of fathers
and teachers. Even if we were to combine Pope's "Man of Ross" and Gold-
smith's "Country Clergyman" into one, we would still have to search for a
third person, learned and able in authorship, to couiplete a parallel picture.

But the greatest and most important ot Mr. Duncan's public labours remains
still to be mentioned : this was the establishment of savings banks, by which
his name will be best remembered by posterit}'. Mention has already been
made of his desire to foster a spirit of independence among the lower orders, by
cherishing the principles of provident economy through the establishment of
friendl}^ societies. In his researches, to which this attempt led, he found a
paper, written bj^ ]\Ir. John Bone, of London, containing a plan for the abolition
of poor's-rates in England; and among its complicated devices, which, for the
most part, were too ingenious to be practical, the idea Avas thrown out of the
erection of an economical bank for the savings of the Avorking-classes. Upon
this suggestion Mr. Duncan fastened; although occurring as a pendicle, it con-
tained the real pith and marrow of the whole sul)ject, and might be easily reduced
to working operation. He drew up a plan for the establishment of savings
banks throughout the country, which he published in his Dumfries journal ;
and, knowing that this would be regarded as a mere theory until it was verified
by at least one substantial illustrative fact, he proceeded to the establishment of
one of these banks in his own parish. Its working was soon sufficient to con-
vince tlie most sceptical. The RuthwcU Savings Bank commenced its existence
in May, 1810 ; and although the poverty of tliis parish was beyond that of most
in Scotland, the deposits during a course of four j-ears were £151, £176, £241,
and £922. This success was announced, and the plan of action he had drawn
up in the " Dumfries Courier" was republished in several of the leading journals
of Scotland ; and the natural consequence was, that savings banks, established
upon the model of that of Ruthwell, were opened not only in Edinburgh, but
the principal towns throughout the kingdom. It was well for such a provident
scheme that it had found Scotland for its birthplace and first field of action.
From Scotland the example passed into England, and afterwards into Ireland ;
and with vrhat happy results, the superior economy of the industrious poor
throughout the three kingdoms, and the immense amount of capital that has
now accumulated, can bear full testimony. During this course of operation the
lionoured founder of the scheme was not forgot, chief!}', however, that he might
lend his gratuitous labours to the furtherance of the good work ; and for this
purpose applications for counsel and suggestion poured in upon him from every
quarter, the answers to which would have tasked a state-secretary and whole

REV. HENRY DUNCAN, D.D. 207

staff of assistants, instead of an already overladen country minister. But, clieered
with this evidence of the success of his benevolent mission, JMr. Duncan con-
fronted the epistolary torrent, and had an answer for every inquirer. " Happily
for himself and his cause," thus writes his amiable biographer, " his readiness
as a letter-writer was one of his most remarkable characteristics. Whole days,
indeed, were frequently consumed in this laborious occupation ; but the amount
of work accomplished, while thus engaged, was indeed astonishing. This may
1)6 understood when it is remembered that, among his correspondents in a scheme
so entirely new, there must have been, as tliere were, many desirous of minute
information and special explanations ; many suggesting difficulties, and demand-
ing their solution ; many persevering and insatiable letter- writers, making small
allowance for the overburdened and weaiy individual on whom had thus at once
devolved the care of a thousand infant institutions. Add to this, that the
soundness of some of the principles on which he was most decided was disputed
by a few of the warmest friends of the measure, and that he had to maintain on
these topics a tedious controversy, not the less necessary because those with
whom it was carried on were among his best friends and coadjutors." While
thus engaged he also published, at the beginning of 1815, an essay ''On the
Nature and Advantages of Parish Banks ; together with a Corrected Copy of
the Rules and Regulations of the Parent Institution in Ruth well," for which
production a new and enlarged edition was in demand in the following year.
Thus it will be seen that Mr. Duncan was no mere benevolent dreamer, even as
a savings bank was no mere " devout imagination." He was a man of fearless
daring and incessant labour, and therefore, in his hands, the theory became a
great, substantial, and national reality. And well was his benevolent disinte-
rested heart revi'arded in its own best fiishion. To few of those who would
teach truths " to save a sinking land " is the happj' lot accorded to witness these
truths in full operation, and producing their happiest results.

After the general adoption of the principle of savings banks throughout the
three kingdoms, from which it gradually diffused itself throughout the different
countries of Europe, where it Avas adopted as the true "cheap defence of nations,"
it would have been contrary to all past experience, since the days of Tripto-
lemus, if jMr. Duncan had been allowed to sit down as a public benefactor, and
no angry wind had blown to shake the laurels that grew around him. Carping
questions rose as to the fitness of his scheme either in whole or in part ; and
when these were satisfactorily answered, attempts were made to bereave him of
the honour of its paternity. A more difficult as well as more important step
was to obtain for it the advantages of legislative protection, and for this pur-
pose he repaired to London in the spring of 1819. After much negotiation with
some of the leading financiers and statesmen, whom he converted to his views,
the measure was introduced, and successfully carried through parliament. " You
may carry with you," said a friend to him on that occasion, " the satisfaction of
knowing that the Savings Bank Bill would not have been carried except by
your visit to London." During the same year, and while the political discon-
tent of the lower orders was daily threatening to merge into French infide-
lity and republicanism, Mr. Duncan published his "Young South Countr^^
Weaver," a tale admirably suited to the times, as well as the classes for which
it was especially written, being full of Scottish humour, and vigorous descrip-
tions of such popular meetings and noisy demagogues as were in vogue among
the rabble during this stormy period. In 1823, the degree of D.D. was con-

203 BEV, HENRY DUNCAN, D.D.

ferred upon him by the university of St. Andrews. In 182G, stimulated by
the example of Sir Walter Scott's novels, as well as offended with the tone of
the tale of " Old jMortality," in which our Presbyterian ancestors are held up
to ridicule, Dr. Duncan attempted a work in the same style, but of an opposite
tendency, in which he resolved to place the characters of the Covenanters in
their proper light. For this purpose he wrote " William Douglas, or the Scot-
tish Exiles," a three-volume tale, which, liowever excellent in its way, was by
no means a matcli for the powerful antagonist which it attempted to confront.
Bat J1071 omnia possumus 07ii7ies; and perhaps it was not altogether fitting or
desirable that the minister of lluthwell and founder of savings banks should be
as able and popular a novelist as the " author of Waverly."

In a life so active and so full of incidents as that of Di-. Duncan, it would
be impossible, within our narrow limits, to give even a brief detail of his
many occupations and their results. We are therefore obliged to dismiss the
labours of years, filled as they were with his plans for the better instruction of
the lower classes — with his attempts to avert, or at least retard, the imposition
of a poor's-rate in Ruthwell, and over the country at large — and the active
exertions he made in favour of the Roman Catholic Relief Bill, and afterwards
in behalf of negro emancipation. We must even pass over his researches among
the footprints of animals, which he was the first to detect in the strata of old
red sandstone ; by which, according to Dr. Bucklaml, his discovery was '■' one
of the most curious and most important that has been ever made in geology.''
In all these there was abundance of literary correspondence and authorship, in
which he bestirred himself with his wonted activity and success. But events
were now occurring in the church of sufficient import to absorl) the attention
and task the utmost energies of every zealous minister, let him be of what
party he might ; and, under the influence of these, Dr. Duncan was sum-
moned to abandon his favourite pursuits, and throw his whole heart into a
conflict in which the very existence of the national church itself appeared to
be at stake.

This controversy, which ended with the Disruption, commenced with the
popular hostility towards patronage. In a mere political point of view, indeed,
patronage had fully lasted its day. The people of Scotland had now become so
divested of their old feudal veneration for rank and place, and withalso intelli-
gent and inquiring, that they were no longer in the mood of implicitly submit-
ting their spiritual guidance to any earthly patron whatever. This palpable
fact, however, it was not the interest of the aristocracy to recognize, and there-
fore they could not see it ; so that, instead of gracefully conceding a privilege
which in a few years more would have been worn-out and worthless, they pre-
ferred to cling to it until it should be torn from their grasp. On the subject of
patronage Dr. Duncan had meditated long and anxiously; and, being convinced
that it was an evil, he joined in the great popular movement that sought its
suppression. Fi-om the head-f|uarters of the state, also, applications were made
to him for information upon the merits of the question ; and this he fully trans-
mitted successively to Lords Brougham, IMelbourne, and Lansdowne. It was
not, however, the entire suppression, but the modification of patronage Avhich
he sought; and, therefore, when the Veto-law was passed by the General
Assembly in 1834, he hoped, in common with many of our best and wisest,
that the golden mean was now attained, and a happy compromise efl'ected
between the political rights of patrons and the spiritual interests of the people.

EEV. HENRY DUNCAN, T).D. 209

Bat, like many other such flattering comhiimtions, the Veto satisfied neither
party, and a few yeai-s of trial sufficed to show that this balancing of two an-
tagonistic claims could only aggravate as well as protract the conllict. But,
\Yhatever may have been tlie diversity of opinions among the evangelical portion
of the Church of Scotland upon the subject of patronage, the case became very
different when the civil courts interposed their authority, and thrust obnoxious
presentees into the cure of souls, in defiance not only of the deprecations of tlie
parishes thus encumbered, but the autliority of ecclesiastical tribunals, to whom
alone the sacred right of induction belonged. It was no longer the rights of
patronage, but the existence of the Church itself that was at stake, in which
every question about the fitness or unfitness of the Veto utterly disappeared.
Here was a result upon which there could be no divided opinion, a common
ground upon which all could take their stand ; and the sentiments of Dr. Dun-
can upon the subject, as well as the energy of his character in sucli a crisis, were
so well understood, that at one of the most trying periods of the controversy
(the year 1839) he was elected to the important office of moderator of the
General Assembly. It was there that the cases of Auchterarder and Strath-
bogie were brought forward, while that of Lethendy was impending, in which
a presbytery, for its obedience to the highest ecclesiastical court in a case of
ordination, was threatened by the civil authorities with an interdict. His duties
of moderator during this trying period were discharged with that dignity, firm-
ness, and discretion which the occasion so urgently demanded. In the follow-
ing year he was subjected to a still more critical test, in consequence of his being
sent, at the head of a deputation, to London, by the commission of the General
Assembly, to congratulate the Queen on the occasion of her Majesty's marriage.
It was thus that the Church of Scotland had been wont on former occasions to
express its loyalty, and as the representatives of a national church, its deputations
had always been hitherto received with royal courtesy and regard. But late
events had made it be regarded in the high places of tlie state with dislike,
and it was now suspected as tending to radicalism at least, if not to downright
rebellion. To punish, therefore, if not to reclaim the offending church, it was
announced to the deputation b^' the minister of the crown, that their address
could not be received on the throne, as had hitherto been the custom, but at a
private audience. To have yielded to this would have been to degrade the
church which they represented ; and Dr. Duncan therefore frankly stated to
the crown minister, that the address could not be presented unless it was
received with the usual tokens of respect. This firm resolution, which he
expressed botli in personal interviews and by written statement, prevailed, and
the deputation was at last received according to the wonted ceremonial.

The proceedings of Dr. Duncan in the subsequent measures of tlie church,
which ended in the disruption, may be easily surmised. In the most important
of these he bore an active part ; and v,-hen the convocation was assembled in
Edinburgh, in 18-i2, he attended as one of the fatiiers of the church, and gave
the benefit of his experience to its deliberations. Up to this period, when so
important a change was at hand, his position was a happy one, beyond the lot
of most country ministers. "His manifold blessings," his biographer writes,
" had been alloyed with few painful ingredients, and his sorrows had all been
singularly mingled witli merciful alleviations. His family had grown up without
accident or serious evil of any kind, and without a breacli. His two sons had
voluntarily embraced his own profession, and were settled tranquilly, with their

V. 2 u

210 REV. HENRY DUNCAN, D.D.

families, in parishes to wliicli they had not only been presented by the lawful
patrons, but been called by the unanimous voice of their people ; and his only
daughter had just been united to a minister of the Church of Scotland, long and
intiniF-tely known to him, and whose views entirely corresponded with his own.
And though thus his children were withdrawn from under his roof, to spheres
in every respect so eligible, his home still exhibited its former aspect of affec-
tion and of enjoyment; while comforts and blessings seemed destined to follow
him to the latest period of old age." In such a state of things, who that could
avoid it would seek for a change ? And what a motive must that be which
could persuade a wise and good man, in the decline of life, and when a happy
home is best enjoyed, to sacrifice all and begin life anew? But to this he
steadily addressed himself, and accordingly, after the convocation, he began to
look out for a new home, as well as a new sphere of ministerial duty. At
length the season for action arrived. On the 18th of May, 1813, the General
Assembly met, and on that occasion 474 ministers abandoned their livings, and
departed, that they might constitute a church in conformity with those prin-
ciples for which they had made the sacrifice. Dr. Duncan, who had been present
on the occasion, and joined the solemn exodus, returned to Euthwell, to gather
together that portion of his flock which still adhered to him. They constituted
nearly the half, though the least wealthy part of the church-going population of
the parish ; but their exertions, as well as their sacrifices, in behalf of the cause
which they had embraced, even already consoled him for the loss both of church
and manse, A new place of worship was soon erected, and as for a place of
residence, this also was found in one end of a cottage, which the tenant re-
signed, for the occupation of himself and family. It was, indeed, a different
habitation from that beautiful manse which he had so amplified, and the gardens
of which he had so tastefully laid out and planted, during a residence of forty
years, but the change was made in the name of Him who " had not where io
lay his head."

The remainder of Dr. Duncan's career, after he left the Established Church,
may be briefly tokL It was that long-confirmed spirit of activity, which had
become the chief element of his being, struggling as bravely as ever against new
obstacles, and surmounting them, but struggling under the growing frailties of
years, through which the trial must be all the more quickly ended. To such
a man there could be but one resting-place, and to this his failing footsteps
were rapidly hastening. It was also in harmony with his charactei", that the
summons calling him to enter into his rest should find him in the midst of
active duty, with his loins girt, and his lamp burning. After a journey into
England, chiefly connected with the interests of the church and his own flock,
he resumed, at his return home, the work of clerical visitation, and for this pur-
pose had repaired to Cockpooi, about two miles from Ruthwell, to preside at an
evening prayer-meeting. In the course of the religious services on this occa-
sion he read a text of Scripture, and was employed in illustrating it, when he
was suddenly struck with paralysis, and after a short illness, died on the even-
ing of the 11th of February, 184G, in the seventy-second year of his age.

Dr. Duncan was twice married ; Iiis second wife, who still survives him, having
been the widow of the Rev. Mr. Lundie, of Kelso, to whom he was united in
1836. In mentioning the varied authorship of Dr. Duncan, we omitted the
work on which his literary reputation will chiefly depend. This was " The
Sacred Philosophy of the Seasons," in four volumes, written upon the plan of

JOHN DUNCAN. 211

the well-known work of Sturm, and furnishing a paper for every clay in tlie
year. Of this work several editions have already been published, and it is still in
extensive demand. But the savings banks will constitute Dr. Duncan's most
abiding monument, and will continue, throughout the world at large, to be con-
nected with his name as their founder, when the best literar^^ productions of
the present day have ceased to be remembered.

DUNCAN, John. — Of all the enterprises of travel, none perhaps are so dan-
gerous or difficult as the exploration of that vast and mysterious terra incog-
nita, the interior of Africa, and none have been more tempting to Scottish per-
severance and intrepidity. The names of Bruce, Park, Clapperton, and others
who either perished in the journey, or returned home only to die, after their
expectations had been crashed and their constitutions broken, will here occur
to the memory of the reader. One of this intrepid, self-devoted forlorn hope,
was Mr. John Duncan.

This African traveller was born in humble circumstances, being the son of a
small farmer in Wigtonshire; but the precise date of his birth we have been
unable to ascertain. At an early period he enlisted in the 1st regiment of Life
Guards, where he served eighteen years with an excellent character, and was
discharged about the year 1040, with the highest testimonials of good conduct.
After having left the army, he was attached as armourer to the unfortunate
expedition sent out to explore the Niger in 1842. His office on this occasion
was one peculiarly trying under a vertical African sun ; for in all the treaties
made with the native chiefs, he marched at the head of the English party, en-
cumbered with the heavy uniform of a Life-Guardsman, and burning Avithin
the polished plates of a tii^htly-buckled cuirass. He was thus made an imposing
pageant, to strike the eyes of the astonished Africans, and impress them Avith
a full sense of the grandeur and m'ilitary power of Britain. But it was a delu-
sive show ; for in such a climate .all this glittering harness was an intolerable
burden, and the wearer would in reality have been more formidable in the linen-
quilted armour of the soldiers of Cortez, or even in a tanned sheepskin. He sur-
vived to return to England with such of his companions as remained, but with
a shattered constitution, and a frightful wound in his leg, under which he was
long a sufferer.

After John Duncan had recovered from the effects of such a journey, instead
of being daunted by the toils and dangers he had so narrowly escaped, he only
felt a keener desire than ever to attempt new discoveries in the African interior.
The excitement of peril had become his chief pleasure, while the do-or-die de-
termination to resume his half-finished adventure, and prosecute it to the close,
must be gratified at whatever price. It is of such stuff that tlie hearts of our
African travellers are composed, and how seldom therefore are they satisfied
with one expedition, however dangerous it may have been? Duncan announced
his desire to Mr. Sliillinglaw, then librarian to the Geographical Society, and
the latter, delighted to find one so well qualified for such a journey, introduced
him to the council. The arrangements were soon made, and in the summer of
1844, Duncan set off upon his pilgrimage, under the auspices of the Society,
and liberally furnished with everything that could minister to his comfort or
facilitate his means of exploration. On reaching Africa, his first attempt was
to explore the kingdom of Dahomey, the wealthiest and most civilized — or,
perhaps, we should say, the least savage— of all those marvellous African realms
Avhich Europeans have as yet reached ; and of this country he traversed a large

212 TIICMAS DUNCAN.

portion, laying open sources of information concerning it whicli had hitherto
been inaccessible to our travellers. But the sufferings he underwent in this
journey were excruciating, chiefly owing to the old wound in his leg, that
broke out afresh under the burning climate that had first occasioned it; and so
serious at one time were his appreliensions of a mortification supervening,
that in the absence of all medical aid, he had actually made preparations for
cutting off the limb with iiis own hand. Happily, a favourable turn made such
a desperate resource unnecessary; but the mere resolution shows of Avliat sacri-
fices he was capable in the prosecution of his purpose. On returning to Cape
Coast, much impaired in constitution, he resolved to start afresh on a new
journey to Timbuctoo, but continuing ill health obliged him to forego liis pur-
pose, and return to England.

Our admiration of Duncan's persevering intrepidity is heightened by the fact,
tliat he was neither a man of science, nor even a tolerable scholar, his early edu-
cation having been both brief and defective ; and thus he was deprived of those
sources of entliusiasm which cheered onward such travellers as Bruce and Park to
the source of the Nile or the parent streams of the Niger. But he had keen ob-
servation and solid sound sense, by which he was enabled materially to enricli
our African geography, without the parade of learning ; and as such, his com-
munications were so justly appreciated, that after his return to England, her
Majesty's Government appointed him to the office of British vice-consul at
Wliydah, in the kingdom of Dahome^'. Notliing could be more grateful to
his feelings, for besides being an honourable attestation to his services in behalf
of science and humanity, the appointment furnished him witli ample means for
a third African expedition, in which all his previous attempts as a traveller
might be perfected. He set sail accordingly, in II. M.S. Kingfisher, but was
not destined to reach the expected port ; for lie sickened during the voyage, and
died when the vessel had reached the Bight of Benin, on the 3d of November,
1849.

DUNCAN, Thomas, R.S.A., A.R.A. — This distinguished member of a class
in which Scotland lias of late been so prolific, was born at Kinclaven, Perth-
shire, on tlie 24t]i of May, 1807. In early-life his parents removed to Perth, and
there the education of the future artist was chiefly conducted. As the tendency
towards painting, like that of poetry or music, is natural, not acquired, Thomas
Duncan at an early age gave distinct indications of liis future walk in life, by
drawing likenesses of his young companions, or such objects as struck his fanc^' ;
and on one occasion, wlien himself and his school-fellows had resolved to per-
form the plaj' of "Rob Roy" in a stable loft, he painted the whole of the
scenery that was needed for the occasion. As it is not always that these juve-
nile predilections find favour in the eyes of prudent parents and guardians, the
father of Thomas took the alarm, and hastened to remove his idle boy, as he
reckoned him, to an occupation that would ultimately be more profitable ; and,
^Yith this view, bound him as apprentice to a provincial writer; but such
uncongenial drudgery only fostered the tendency which it was meant to cure,
so that when Thomas Duncan had finislied his time of servitude, there was less
chance than ever of his becoming a country lawyer. A painter he would be,
and his father was obliged to consent to his choice by allowing him to remove
to Edinburgh, that he might cultivate the profession for which nature had de-
signed him. He was so fortunate as to obtain entrance into the Scottish Aca-
demy as a pupil, and still more fortunate to have its president. Sir William

THOMAS DUNCAN. 213

Allan, for his preceptor. His progress was commensurate with his talents and
his opportunities, for he not only rapidly mastered the rules of art, and acquired
artistic skill in delineation, but soon outstripped his class-fellows in that most
difficult and delicate of all departments, the drawing of the human frame. At
the age of twenty he had entered the academy as a pupil, and as if even already
conscious that his life was to be a brief one, he had considerably abbreviated by
his diligence the usual term of probation, and become a full-grown artist. This
was perceptible even in the first paintings which he produced to public notice ;
and the " Milkmaid," " Old JMortality," and the " Jiraw Wooer," which he
successively produced, were so highly appreciated by the best judges of picto-
rial excellence, that although under the usual age of those who had hitherto
held such incportant offices, he was first appointed to the professorship of colour-
ing, and soon afterwards to that of drawing, in the Edinburgh Academy.

Having thus won for himself such high distinction, Mr. Duncan was resolved
that it should not be merely local or temporary : he loved art for its own sake
not its emoluments, and longed to paint for immortality, rather than the easilv-
won celebrity of the passing day. For this purpose he turned his attention "to
the Royal Academy, and sent thither, in 1840, his elaborate and well-known
painting of " Prince Charles Edward and the Highlanders entering Edinburgh
after the battle of Prestonpans," a truly national production, the value of which
was enhanced to the present generation of Scotchmen by the portraits of several
eminent living characters whom he has introduced into the scene. In this great
European exhibition of artistic merit and contention, he had a more formidable
ordeal to pass than the limited one of Edinburgh ; but he triumphantly went
through it, and the historical painting of the young Scottish artist was spoken
of in terms of the highest commendation. This he successfully followed, in 1841,
by his picture of the " Waefu' Heart," a scene from the 'beautiful ballad of
" Auld Robin Gray,'' in which it is enough to say, that the conception of the
painter does not fall short of that of the poet ; in 1842, by the picture of " Deer-
Stalking; " and in 1843, by " Charles Edward asleep after the battle of Culloden,
protected by Flora Macdonald." By this time his reputation was so well
established that, in the same year, he was elected an associate of the Royal
Academy. In 1844 IMr. Duncan sent to the Exhibition his ideal painting of
" Cupid," and his historical one of " The ]\Iartyrdom of John Brown, of Priest-
hill, in 1()85." These were his principal productions, which are now widely
known to t!ie world through the medium of admirable engravings ; and to the
list might be added his admirable portraits of several eminent Scottish contem-
poraries, whose features he has perpetuated with a felicity that has been univer-
sally acknowledged.

Such was the artistic career of Thomas Duncan, that was now brought to a
premature close. His constitution had always appeared a sound one, giving
promise of a long and healthy life ; but an internal tumour had gradually been
forming in liis head, near the optic nerves, which at last nearly reduced him to
a state of blindness. By skilful medical treatment the malady was almost
entirely removed, when it fixed itself upon the brain, producing all the appear-
ances of brain fever, under which he sank, notwithstanding the efforts of the
best medical practitioners of Edinburgh, to whom he was justly endeared by his
amiable character, as well as high talents and reputation. His death occurred
on the 80th of April, 1845, at the age of thirty-eight ; and he was survived by
a widow and six children, who were not left unprovided; for Duncan, by his

214 COLONEL FORDYCE.

industrious, sober, and frugal habits, was enabled to bequeath to them property
to the value of between £2000 and £3000, Avhich doubtless would have been
considerably increased had his life been spared a few years longer. A short time
before his last illness he had received an order from the ]\larquis of Breadall)anc
for a picture, for which he was to be paid XIOOO. To this brief sketch, we can
only add the following summary of his character, as given by a brother-artist
and friend of Thomas Duncan : — " Had his life been prolonged, there is no
question he would have achieved a lofty position in historical painting ; nor
must we omit to mention his portraits, which were faithfully and skilfully
rendered. As a colourist, indeed, he had few superiors. As an instructor of
his art he was kind, conciliatory, and anxious for the improvement of his pupils ;
and in every relation of domestic life he contrived to secure the esteem and
affection of all around him."

F

FORDYCE, Colonel John. — A brave and pious officer, who fell in tlic
CafFre war in 1851, was the eldest son of Thomas J. Fordyce, Esq., of Ayton,
Berwickshire, an extensive landed proprietor, of great worth and intelligence.
Under the parental roof he was trained from his earliest years in the best
lessons of a religious education. His accomplished and truly Christian mother,
who "had no greater joy than to see her children walking in the truth," was
her son's faithful instructress in that knowledge which maketh wise unto sal-
vation. A portion of the Sacred Volume was committed each morning to me-
mory, and around the family altar prayer was offered daily to the Lord. At
the age of twelve, the subject of this memoir had mastered several of the higher
Latin classics, and acquired a tolerable knowledge of Greek. For the acquisi-
tion of languages he discovered peculiar aptitude, anal^'zing with much focility
the passages of his favourite authors. It was manifest, from the enthusiasm witir
which he followed Caesar and Hannibal, and other heroes of antiquity, through
their respective fields of conflict, that he was destined, with Providence as his
director, for a military life. The writer of these observations has a vivid recol-
lection of the graphic skill with which, after rising from the pages of Livy
or Tacitus, he described the successes or discomfitures of the combatants, and
pronounced on the equity or injustice of the causes of warfare. Before leaving
home for a private seminary in England, he was thoroughly conversant with the
works of our best modern historians, travellers, and poets. After his return, he
completed his literary curriculum in Edinburgh, and was resident for some time
with Doctor (now Bishop) Terrot, enjoying under his able superintendence ad-
vantages equivalent to those of an English university.

His first commission as an ensign in the o4th regiment was dated in 1828.
He served with that corps (then in Nova Scotia) until 1832, when he obtained
an unattached lieutenancy. The same year, however, he returned to full pa3^,
first in the 94th, and soon after in the 21st. He served with the 21st Nortli
British Fusiliers until 1836, when he obtained his company in the S5th regi-
ment, from which he exchanged into the lltli Foot in 1839. Having in 1844
obtained his step as major in the latter regiment, he exchanged the same ye.ir
into the 74th Highlanders. In 1846 he became lieutenant-colonel and com-

COLONEL FORDYCE. 215

manding officer of this regiment, in which important position he gained the
esteem of the military authorities and the affection of all who served under liim.
Though possessed of a good private fortune, so strong was the esprit de corps of
this noble officer, that in March, 1851, he embarked with his regiment for the
Cape of Good Hope, where, after months of severe and harassing warfare, he fell
at the head of his gallant and beloved Highlanders, in the prime of manhood,
and with a name already one of renown.

Endowed with a masculine understanding, a capacious and retentive me-
mory, an indomitable perscverence, ample promise was afforded of literaiy dis-
tinction. Highly gifted as was his intellect, Avhich, as if by intuition, separated
the accessories from the essentials of any subject, his moral qualities commanded
still higher admiration. His bosom was the very soul of honour and generosity.
" Truth in the inward parts," manly independence in forming his opinions, and
unflinching courage in expressing them, were united with the meekness of wis-
dom, and an unaffected modesty of demeanour which shrank with sensitive aver-
sion from all ostentatious display. In personal appearance Colonel Fordyce was
considerably above the ordinary height, with a high massive forehead, and a
countenance which revealed profound thought, calm decision of purpose, and
delicate sensibility. There was frequently also a look of pensive reflection,
which indicated that he had been no stranger to the afflictions and sorrows of
life. By a stranger, indeed, he might sometimes appear chargeable with a de-
gree of reserve, bordering even on hauteur; but those who knew him thoroughly
could best appreciate the depth and constancy of his friendships, and his warm-
hearted sympathy with his fellow-men both "of high and of low degree."

Deprived in youth of his excellent parents, to whom he was ever a dutiful
and loving son, he fulfilled with unwearied fidelity and tenderness the part of
an elder brother towards all the other members of the family.

In no feature of character was Colonel Fordyce more remarkable than in his
strict conscientiousness. Every transaction, private or public, was conducted
with a sacred regard to the authority and the glory of God. This profound
sense of responsibility for his stewardship distinguished him not only in the
more prominent departments of duty, but in the most minute details of every-
da3'- life. As an officer who had been called to occupy a high position in the
British arm}'-, he was ardently and indefatigably devoted to his professional
avocations ; cheerfully expending time and strength and pecuniary resources
in promoting the temporal and spiritual welfare of the regiment which he com-
manded. Whilst stationed in Glasgow, a few years ago, opportunities were
incidentally afforded for marking the solicitude which he evinced in regard to
the intellectual and moral improvement of soldiers' children; using all practi-
cable means, by week-day and Sabbath-schools, that they might be taught tlie
good ways of the Lord.

The 74th, with their gallant Colonel, were ordered from Glasgow to Clonmel,
Ireland. The following notice from the Uev. Mr. Dill testifies to the estima-
tion in which he was held in that place : —

" Sir, — The death of Lieutenant- Colonel Fordyce, 74th Highlanders, has been
felt as a personal bereavement by all who knew him. Clonmel was the last
home-station of the 74th, where, after eight months' residence, they received
orders for foreign service in November, 1850. To those even slightly acquainted
with the army, it will not sound strange to hear, in the published accounts
from the Cape, ' that the whole colony deplores the loss of this noble officer.

216 COLONEL FORDYCE.

Both men and officers feel his loss severely, and at this juncture the loss the
service has sustained is incalculable.' But those who knew Colonel Fordyce,
not only as a soldier, but as a man and a Cliristian, can truly estimate his loss
to his regiment and his country. As chaplain to the 74th Highlanders, I had
frequent opportunity of meeting and observing him. I can truly say that,
under God, he devoted himself to his regiment and the service. Though not a
member of the Presbyterian Church, he was never absent from his pew on the
Lord's-day. I continually found him superintending the regimental Sabbath
and week-day schools, and could trace his kind advice and charity everywhere
among the sick in hospital, the families and recruits of his regiment. On the
evening before the T^th Highlanders left Clonmel for the Cape of Good Hope,
he called and handed me £10 for charitable purposes, requesting that I should
not give his name as the donor. Besides this, he had given, through my name,
within the three preceding months, £15 to other charities. What his other
donations were I know not. From what I have heard, they must have been
numerous, as I am sure they were unostentatious. The lamentable death of Co-
lonel Fordyce affords me the sad pleasure of acknowledging the benevolence and
worth which he would not permit to be made known while he was alive. I
feel his death as if it were a personal bereavement, and I pray that our army
may be blessed by many such officers. — I remain, yours truly,

" Manse, Clonmel, 10th January, 1852. " John Dill."

As evincing the Christian and philanthropic spirit by which Colonel Fordyce
was animated, one or two extracts irom letters to the writer of these lines may
be given. The following was received after a domestic bereavement : —

" My Dear , — My having been sent from Dublin with a flying column

in pursuit of Smith O'Brien and other rebels, must be my apology for not having
written to acknowledge the receipt of the announcement of the deprivation you
have sustained, and to assure you of my unfeigned sympathy. I may express
ray hope that, sustained by the same consolations which you have been so long
the honoured instrument of imparting to others, your own bodily health and
ability for active exertion may remain unimpaired.

" I need not trespass upon you at this time with any notice of the treasonable
proceedings here. The newspapers have given a full account of everything that
has occurred; and so far as we (the column of troops) are concerned, we have
seen no enemy excepting the continual rain, which is, of course, a very dis-
agreeable one, as we have been marching about and encamped since the 28th
July. O'Brien is, as you know, captured, and quietly lodged in jail, and I
have no doubt that all thought of open armed rebellion is at an end for the
present.

" However it may fare with this unfortunate country, any one of common
observation must see that the whole European world is in an unprecedented
state ; and that whatever may be our exact place in the series of predicted
events, some great overwhelming change in the whole structure of human so-
ciety is impending. My reading of " Elliot's Horse Apocalypticte" has been in-
terrupted by my present occupations, before I could get beyond the first volume,
or form any opinion as to his system of interpretation of unfulfilled pro-
phecy. Amidst all the changes, present and coming, upon this world, we have
individually many warnings to place our hopes on a world where change and
cares are alike unknown, — considerations which it is superfluous in me to sug-
gest to your matured and practised mind, but which rise naturally as the great

COLONEL FORDYCE. 217

subjects of the day and hour. A tent does not afford a good writing-table, and
damp paper renders my writing more than usually illegible. I trust that Mrs.

is well ; and again assuring you of my good wishes, beg you to believe me,

ever faithfully and sincerely yours,

" Tipperary, Uth August, 1848. " J. Fordyce."

The next extract is from a communication sent after the death of General Sir
John Buchan, Colonel Fordyce's uncle, and brother of the venerable I^Ir. Bu-
chan of Kelloc : —

" Although I take a Glasgow newspaper, ' The Scottish Guardian,' in which
there is a full account of the debates in your General Assembly, I have been too
much occupied with other matters to look at them since my return, but I
glanced at one speech of Dr. Duff's regarding the Indian missions, which ap-
peared to be one of remarkable eloquence and power. He must be indeed gifted
with no common energy of character, in addition to genius, eloquence, and many
acquirements, to be able to resist the depressing lassitude of an Oriental clhnate
for so many years, — and now to electrify and command a critical audience,
as he appears to have done for hours during the late meeting of the As-
sembly."

A subsequent letter, of date Nov. 8, 1850, inclosing a generous donation for
tlie benefit of certain Free Church students, who were scantily provided with
this world's goods, contains the following remarks : — " I have read Dr. Bucha-
nan's book (the ' Ten Years' Conflict ') with great interest; and although I may
confess to you that, as to my personal taste, I prefer the Liturgy and forms of the
Church of England, and cannot quite see that principle required such a sacrifice
as the disruption of the Church of Scotland, I sincerely believe now that the
cause of the Free Church is in Scotland the cause of Christianity, and that even
persons who have not the strong personal motives which I have to look favour-
ably upon its exertions, should, with a cardinal at Westminster, sink all minor
differences in their support of Protestant Christianity."

" No one," writes his excellent brother. Major Fordyce, who had shared along
with him the toils and the perils of the disastrous struggle, " knew my brother's
state of mind better than I did ; for I had for a long time been constantly with
him, and I knew that he was a faithful follower of Christ, and he is now where
there is no more sorrow — no more pain. What a great thing it is to have such
consolation ! How much more dreadful would have been tlie sad bereavement
if we could not have felt the confidence we do that he died a Christian, and that
his removal from this world was the end of all trial to him, and tlie commence-
ment of an eternity of joy I"

The following particulars of the death of this brave officer, who fell whilst
fighting against the Kaffirs at the Cape, are gleaned from letters which appear
in the " Graham's Town Journal " of loth November : —

" FouT Beaufort, Tuesday. — After the publication of our extra, the follow-
ing came to hand, and contains an account of the melancholy fate of the gallant
Colonel Ford^'co : —

" November G. — This being the promised day, all eyes were directed to the
hills, which we knew to have been planted with the instruments of thunder.
The clouds, however, lay piled in heaps long after sunrise ; but no sooner had
the rays of his refulgence escaped from the clouds which intercepted them, than
the curtain gradually rose, and by seven o'clock the frequent report announced
that another act of the dull tragedy had commenced. Peal after peal continued

V. 2 E

2 IS SIR ARCHIBALD GALLOWAY.

to reverberate among the steep acclivities of the rocky eminences which rise
above the dark busli that conceals the enemy. Towards mid-day the wind
changed to the south-east, which wafted the sounds from this direction. All
were anxiously awaiting the arrival of intelligence from tlie scene of strife, as
we had reason to believe that, from the rapid reports, the conflict was maintained
with obstinacy and resolution. Hour succeeded hour, until long after, when in
broken accents it was revealed that Colonel Fordyce had fallen. But as this
report rested upon the authority of a private letter, brought in by two mounted
Fingoes, hopes were entertained tliat, in the heat and bustle of tlie moment,
some mistake might have occurred. About nine at night, however, the event
w'as confirmed by an eye-witness to the melancholy fact, from whom it appears
that the Colonel was leading his men into Waterkloof in column, when suddenly
his march was ari-ested by a rocky precipice, which flanked him in the form of
a semicircle ; here he found the rebels in considerable force, wdio knew too well
the rules of military tactics to let so favourable an opportunity escape for inflicting
a penalty. The ba3^onets of our brave countrymen in such a position were
powerless ; tliey had therefore to contend against an enemy concealed among
inaccessible rocks, whom they could not assail ; and thus fell, while showing to
his men, by example, the first duties of a soldier, the good and the gallant
Ford^^ce. Thus fell the father of his distinguished regiment, to the honour of
which all his impulses were directed. The soldier, the women, and children,
to whose comforts he devoted himself with parental solicitude, will long cherisli
his remembrance, It is to be regretted that so valuable a life should have been
sacrificed in so ignoble a strife."

Extract from tlie leading article of the " Naval and Military Gazette," Feb-
ruary, 1852. — ■ ..." And here we may observe that there must have been
something singularly attractive in the noble soldier who fell at the head of the
74th Highlanders, which, in the short time (six months) he had been in tlie
colony, and in Graham's Town in particular^ sliould have so impressed and so
endeared him to the inhabitants that the journals of that town announcing his
death should be mai-gined with black, and tlie bell of their distant church lias
tolled his funeral knell ; while the colours, half-mast high, floated languidly in
the air, iu token of a hero's fall !"

GALLOWAY, Sir Akchibald, K.C.B.— An approved soldier and excel-
lent writer, was born at Perth in 1780, and was the son of ."^Ir. James Gallowciy
of that city. Having chosen arms for his profession, and India for his destina-
tion, Archibald Galloway was nominated a cadet in 1799, and appointed to tlio
68th native infantry, of which he finally became colonel in 1836. During this
long period of military service in India, extending over thirty-five years, he was
present in several engagements, as well as six sieges and seven storms, in four of
which he took a very active share. When Delhi, defended by a handful of
British troops, maintained itself against a besieging army of 70,000 men and 130
pieces of cannon, Galloway was one of the brave defenders, and fully shared in
the honours of that remarkable resistance. He was also present at the siege of
Bliurtpore, conducted by Lord Lake. Captain Galloway's post on that occa-

JOHN GALT. 219

sion was especially the post of danger, for it was that of tlie Sappers, a corps sd
constantly under the enemy's fire, and so frequently emplo3'ed in the most pe-
rilous opferations during the siege, that all its officers, and most of its men, were
either killed or wounded. On two occasions he headed it in the attack as part
of the forlorn hope, and on the last he was dangerously wounded. Besides active
services, which are too numerous to specify, and in which his share was tliat
of a fearless, indefatigable, and skilful inferior officer, he was employed on im-
portant commissions on the staff, and for several years held high charges in
India, in the military engineer department, the last of which was that of mem-
ber of the Military Board under its new constitution, to which he was ap-
pointed by the governor-general. Lord William Bentinck. In this responsil)le
office he so ably acquitted himself, as to be honoured, at his departure from India,
with the highest approval of the governor-general in council. General Gallo-
way's various services, during his military career, were also publicly acknow-
ledged by several of our Indian commanders-in-chief upon nine different occa-
sions—by the supreme government of India on twenty-one, and by the Court of
Directors and superior authorities in England on eleven — making an amount of
distinction sufficient to show that he only required a separate command, and an
opportunity, to raise his name to the highest rank in the annals of our Anglo-
Indian warfare.

In authorship. General Galloway also obtained a distinction which will, per-
haps, outlast the remembrance of his soldiership. At a time when such know-
ledge was most needed b^' our military governors and civilians in the East, he
wrote a commentary on the " Mahometan Law," and another on the " Law,
Constitution, and Government of India." He also wrote a work on " Indian
Sieges," which was so highly esteemed, that it was reprinted by the Court of
Directors, and used as a text-book in their military college, as well as distri-
buted for general use throughout our Indian army. In addition to these, he
was author of several military treatises. He was nominated a companion of the
Bath in 1838, and a knight commander in 1848; and besides these public
honours, he was elected a director of the East India Company in 1848, and offi-
ciated as its chairman in 1819. His death, which was sudden, being after a few
hours' illness, occurred at his house, 18, Upper Harley Street, on the 6th of
April, 1850.

GALT, John. — This popular novelist and multifarious writer was born at
Irvine, in Ayrshire, on the 2d of May, 1779, and was the son of a sea-captain,
who was employed in the West India trade. The stay of young Gait in a
district with which he afterwards made the world so well acquainted, was not
long-continued, as his parents removed to Greenock when he was eleven years
old. In this town of commercial bustle and enterprise, his education was soon
finished, as he was destined to follow tlie occupation of a merchant ; and by way
of acquiring a proper knowledge of his future profession, he was, in the first
instance, employed as a clerk in the custom-house of Greenock, and afterwards
in a counting-house in the same town. This was unfav9urable training for that
life of authorship which he followed with such ardour in after periods ; but his
diligence and perseverance in self-education during the hours of leisure, not only
formed the groundwork, but the incitement of his future literary undertakings.
His first attempts, as is usual with young aspirants, were in poetrj'- ; and one
of these, a tragedy, founded on the history of Mary Queen of Scots, he sent
to Constable for publication, but had the MS. returned unread. He was con-

220 JO^l^"^ GALT.

soled, however, for this disappointment by having his smaller lucubrations oc-
casionally published in the " Greenock Advertiser," and one or two of the
Scottish magazines. lie thus saw himself in print, and the consequences it is
easy to divine — his enthusiasm would expand into fall-grown authorship. Un-
dismayed by the rejection of his tragedy, Gait next attempted an epic, the title
of wliich, was " The Battle of Largs." It was written in octosyllabic rliyme,
and he prided himself not a little on the fact, that in this matter at least he
had preceded Sir Walter Scott. This poem, written in five cantos, was enabled
partly to struggle into light in consequence of detached portions of it having
been published in the '• Scots Magazine" for 1803 and 1804. It is as well that
the world was not troubled with it in toto, as the following invocation to Lok,
■\vliich is in " Ercles' vein," will sufficiently testify : —

" The liidcous fctorm that dozing hay.
Thick blanketed in clouds all day,
Behind sulphureous llecla, wo
Roused to this wrecking wrath for thee.
And sent him raging round the world,
High in a thund'ring chariot hurl'd;
AYhose steeds, exulting with their load.
As the grim fiend they drag abroad,
Whisk with their tails the turrets down
Of many a ieniplc, tower, and town."

Or fake the following description of Erie, one of tlie Xovse Eumenides, in
wliich the sudden alternations of rising and sinking can scarcely be paralleled
even by Sir Richard Blackmore: —

" Her looks sulphureous glow—
Her furnace-eyes, that burn'd below
A dismal forehead, glaring wide,
Like caves by night in Hecla's side,
And what her fangs for staff did grasp,
'Iwas fired iron — Hell's hatchway's hasp.
* * .-? * * *

At length she stood,
And scowling o'er the weltering flood.
That louder rag'd, she stretch'd her hand.
Clutching the red Tartarean brand
Aloft, and, as the black clouds sunder'd,
Dared the high heavens till they thunder'd."

It was in London that this poetical attempt was made. He had gone to tlio
metropolis in 1803 or 1804, and there, a few months of leisure at his first en-
trance, had encouraged those desperate conceptions in Runic m3'thology, which
he extended through five mortal cantos. It was not, however, by writing epics
that he could support himself in London. He therefore commenced business
in good earnest, and entered into partnership with a young countryman of his
own : but they soon disagreed ; their affairs were unsuccessful, and in about
three years the concern became bankrupt. This combination of poetry and
business was not sufficient for the versatile mind of Gait ; other subjects of
study occupied his attention, among which were astrology, alchemy, history,
and political economy. Was it wonderful then that his name, before it figured
in authorship, should have found a place in the bankrupt list?

After this mercantile disaster Gait tried to re-establish himself in business

JOHN GALT. 22.1

along -with a brother ; but this attempt also proved abortive. Sick of merchan-
dise, and impatient to try something else, he resolved to devote himself to the
profession of law ; and for this purpose entered himself at Lincoln's Inn. lie
was soon overtaken by a nervous indisposition, that unfitted him for the dry
studies of " Coke upon Littleton ;" and, by way of solace, until the malady
should pass away, he sat down to write a book. The subject was ready to his
hand ; for, in a walk with some friends through the colleges of Oxford in 1805,
lie had felt indignant that Cardinal Wolsey, the founder of Christ Church Col-
lege, should have been allowed to bequeath such a boon without a fitting com-
memoration from its learned disciples ; and since better might not be, he had
resolved, alien though he was, at some time or other to repair the deficienc3\
That season had now arrived ; and accordingly, about the beginning of ICOt),
he commenced a life of Cardinal Wolsey, and finished it in a very few months.
The short time that he took for the necessary reading and research, as well as
writing, which such a subject required, will give an adequate conception of the
natural impetuosity of his intellect. But with this haste and hurry there was
curiously combined the grave methodical arrangement of the counting-house :
he transcribed upon one part of his writing-paper the historical focts extracted
from Cavendish, Fiddes, and Hume, and wove round them, upon the margin and
between the interstices, his own remarks and deductions, until a gay party-
coloured web was the result ; after which he s^'stematized the whole into a
continuous narrative, " 1 was desirous," he says of it, " to produce a work that
would deserve some attention." This work, which he afterwards improved and
extended, was not published till three years afterwards. As his healtli did not
Improve, he now resolved to try tlie efi^ects of travel before being called to the
English bar ; and in 1C09 he left England for a tour, which extended over three
3'ears. The result of this long journey was two separate works at his return.
The first was entitled, " Voyages and Travels in the years 1809, 1310, and 1811
containing Statistical, Commercial, and Miscellaneous Observations on Gibraltar
Sardinia, Sicily, Malta, and Turkey ;" and the second, " Letters from the Le-
vant, containing Views of the State of Society, Manners, Opinions, and Commerce
in Greece and several of the principal Islands of the Archipelago."

These were not the only works which Gait published on his return to Eng-
land. Ills poetical inspiration still haunted him, but so much sobered down,
that during his tour he had been employing himself in writing dramas on the
plan of Alfieri, where the simplicity of the plot and fewness of the characters
were to be compensated by the full force of nature and poetic excellence. This
was certainly a great sacrifice in one whose imagination so revelled in plot, and
was so fertile in incident. The volume, which was published in 1812, contained
the tragedies of JMaddalen, Agamemnon, Lady Macbeth, Antonia, and Clytem-
nestra ; and as only 250 copies were printed, the work being published on his
own account, it had little chance of undergoing the test of public opinion. Even
as it was, however, it was roughly handled in the Quarterly Review, by an
ironical criticism, in which Gait was elevated to the rank of a second Shaks-
peare. Soon after his return, he married Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. Tilloch,
editor of the " Philosophical Magazine," and proprietor of the " Star," a news-
paper on which Gait had been for some time employed. In the same year, also
(1812), so prolific in his publishing adventures, he sent through the press his
'• Reflections on Political and Commercial Subjects."

Having now abandoned all thoughts of devoting himself to the bar, Gait was

222 JOHN GALT.

compelled to have recourse to authorship, until something more stable should
occur. He therefore wrote in the " Monthly Magazine," and other periodicals
of the day. He also projected, with Mr. Colburn the publisher, a periodical
which, under the title of the " New British Theatre," should publish the best
of those dramatic productions which the managers of the great play-houses had
rejected. It was hoped that in this way deserving talent would be rescued from
oblivion ; and " many a gem of purest ray serene" be made to glitter in the eye
of a delighted world, instead of being trampled among the dust of the green-
room. It was a most benevolent and hopeful speculation, of v.-hich Gait, the
jn-oposer, was appointed editor. But little did he anticipate the flood-gates of
mud which such a pro])osal opened. There was an instant jail-delivery of
manuscript plays, enough to have converted the country into a literary Botany
Bay or Alsatia ; and Gait, amidst the heap of dramatic matter, under which he
was well-nigh smothered, was obliged to confess at last that the managers of
theatres were not such reckless or unjust rejectors as they had been called.
The work at its commencement was successful, but soon afterwards fell off,
although the plan was improved by the admission of plays that had been
written but not presented. Before it expired, Gait possessed and availed him-
self of the opportunity of inserting some of his own dramatic productions,
among which was the tragedy of " The Witness," afterwards performed in
several towns with altered titles. After this, his career for some years was one
of active business, combined with authorship. During his travels he had con-
ceived the idea of importing British goods through Turke}^, in spite of the con-
tinental blockade by which Napoleon endeavoured to exclude our commerce ;
and upon this plan he employed himself diligently for some time both in
England and Scotland. But the conception appeared too bold and hazardous
to those traders who were invited to the risk ; and his efforts ended in disap-
pointment. Another occupation with which he was commissioned, was to
superintend a bill through the House of Commons, intrusted to him hy the
Union Canal Company. As enough of leisure was afforded him in London
during the suspense of this bill, he wrote the " Life and Studies of Benjamin
West." He also wrote a romance, of which the hero was the Wandering Jew.
Of this work two considerable editions were sold, although it had never been
reviewed. This neglect the author, who affectionately clung to the remem-
brance of his Wandering Jew to the last, regarded with some surprise. " How
the Avo]-k," he says, " should have been so long unnoticed, while others which
treat of the same subject have attracted considerable attention, I cannot say ;
but this I know, that many of my own far inferior productions, in originality
and beauty, have been much applauded, and yet I doubt if they have sold so
well." We suspect that few of our readers have been among the purchasers
of this wonderful myth, or have even heard its name till now.

Amidst all the toil and struggle of these literary attempts, John Gait had
not yet discovered where his strength lay. History, biography, travels, epic
and dramatic poetr^', romance — he had tried them all, but attained success in
none. His over-boiling imagination and erratic fancy were too much even for
fiction, whether in prose or verse ; and when he attempted sober narrative, his
love of originality was ever leading him into some startling paradox, which the
facts of history were unable to make good. The eccentricity of his political
opinions had also given not a little offence to the still predominant party ; for
although a Tory in theory, he seemed a very Radical in practice, and had more

JOHN GALT. 223

than once run a muck against the powers that be, when he found them stopping
up his way. On this account he had also brought down upon his head tlie ire
of the Quarterl}' Review, whose censure was enough to bliglit the popuhirity
of an author among Tory readers, and throw liim out upon neutral ground.
Thus, up to 1820, his attempts were a series of literary blunders, and his pro-
duction of that year, " The Earthquake," a stern, sombre novel, in three
volumes, which has shared the fate of his other productions written before this
period, should, in ordinary circumstances, have been his last attempt in author-
ship. But in his long searcli in the dark he liad hit upon the right vein at last.
It was not in the wild and wonderful that he was to excel, but in the homely,
the humorous, and the caustic. " The hero's harp, the lover's lute," with
which he had tried to enchant the world, but to no purpose, were to be ex-
changed for the vulgar bagpipe and stock-and-horn. His first attempt in this
way was the " Ayrshire Legatees" — a work which originated in mere accident.
One of his enjoyments was to "show the lions" to such strangers as were
introduced to him in London; and of these, as might be expected, were many
original characters from the fiir north, whose sensations among the wonders of
the great metropolis were a rich feast to his keen observant eye and quick sense
of the ludicrous. It soon occurred to him that these peculiarities might be
embodied in particular personages, and illustrated by correspondent adventures,
the whole materials were before him like those of a rich landscape, and only
needed artistic selection and combination tb form a very choice picture. Upon
this idea he set to work, and without any formal plot for his story, scene after
scene grew upon his hand as it was needed, until the " Ayrshire Legatees" was
the result. It was in this way that " Humphrey Clinker" was produced — the
best of all Smollett's productions. As fast as the chapters of Gait's new attempt
were written, they were published in Blackwood's Magazine of 1820 and
1821, and their appearance excited universal attention, while they continued to
rise in popularity to the last; so that, when finished, they were published
separate]}^, and eagerly devoured by the novel-reading public. It was a style
of writing which had been so long disused, as to have all the charms of origi-
nality, while the truthfulness of the different characters was such as to impart
to fiction all the charms of reality. Gait found that he had succeeded at last,
and followed up his success with the " Annals of the Parish," which was pub-
lished in 1821. This work, however, although so late in its appearance, was,
properly speaking, the first of Gait's Scottish novels, as it had been written in
1813, but laid aside, until the success of the "Ayrshire Legatees" encouraged
him to commit it to the press. In this work, also, he had not troubled himself
about the construction of a regular plot, and, like its predecessor, it was all the
better for the omission. Long before he commenced the "Annals," his ambi-
tion had been to " write a book that would be for Scotland what the ' Vicar
of Wakefield' is for England ;" and this was the result. lie certainly could
not have adopted a better model.

No one can imagine that the pen of Gait, so indefatigable when success was
against it, would now relapse into idleness. In the " Annals of the Parish " he
had exhibited the progress of improvement in a rural district of the west of
Scotland ; he was now desirous of describing the same progress in a town. Such
was the origin of the " Provost," which was published in 1822. He had now
learned the true secret of novel- writing, as is evident from the following state-
ment : — " In the composition of the ' Provost ' I foUov/ed the same rule of art

i JOHN GALT.

^Yllicll seemed to me so proper iu the ' Annals of the Parish,' namely, to brins;
impressions on the memory harmoniously together ; indeed, I have adliered to
the principle in all my subsequent compositions, and sometimes I fancy that
the propriety of doing so may be justified by nature. I think no ingenuity can
make an entirel}' new thing. Man can only imagine the old together ; join
legs, and arms, and wings as he may, only the forms of previously-created things
can be imitated. The whole figure may be outre, and unlike anything in the
heavens, or the earth, or the waters under the earth ; but the imitations of tlie
human hand in the details will ever be evident. ... In my youth I wrote
a poem called the ' Legend of St. Anthony,' which I undertook witii the inten-
tion of depicting comical phantasms ; but I had not proceeded far till I was
induced to change my mind, by observing that my most extravagant fancies
were only things of curious patchwork, and that the same defect might be dis-
cerned in all those things iu which the ' creative ' power of genius was said to
be more indisputable. ... I therefore give up all pretension to belonging to
that class who deal in the wild and wonderful ; my wish is, to be estimated by
the truth of whatever I try to represent."

The next work of Gait was the " Steam-boat," a novel, published originally in
Blackwood, in which he wished to give such an account of the coronation of
George IV. as an " abortive bailie "' from Scotland might be likely to do. This
was followed by " Sir Andrew Wyllie," in which he wished to exhibit the rise
and progress of an humble Scotchman in London. In this tale, however, he gave
way to his literary besetting sin, a iault of which he was afterwards fully con-
scious ; and he says of it very justl^'^, " The incidents are by far too romantic
and uncommon to my own taste, and are only redeemed from their extravagance
by the natural portraiture of the characters."

But, indeed, either accurate conception or finished execution could scarcely
be expected from Gait in his writings at this period, wlien we remember that
the three last-mentioned works, viz., the " Provost," the " Steam-boat," and
" Sir Andrew Wyllie," were all published in 1822. In the following year ho
produced his '■ Gatliering of the West," which was also published in the first
instance in Blackwood's IVIagazine. The subject was the visit of George IV.
to Scotland — an event that ajipeared in so man}' ludicrous aspects to the mirth-
ful satirical mind of Gait, that he could not repress his profane chuckling at
this great avatar, even when he endeavoured to look the most composed. He
therefore says of the " Gathering," and its kindred work, the " Steam-boat" —
" Notwithstanding the deference for magnates and magnificence nnder which
these works were written, the original sin may be detected here and there
peeping out, insomuch that those who consider Toryism as consisting of the
enjoyment of at least pensions, must be dreadfully shocked to think even a
moderate politician of any sort could be so far left to himself as to speak so
irreverently' of things which concerned the aff'airs of empires and burgh towns."

We have already alluded to Gait's exuberance in the productions of 1822;
but that of the following j-ear was still more excessive, so that it might well be
said of him, vires acquirit cundo. Thus the "Entail," "llingan Gilhaize,"
and the " Spaewife" — each a three-volumed novel — were published during
this year of portentous abundance. The first of these novels was founded
upon an incident related by the Lord Provost of Glasgow to Gait. It was in
this way that he was accustomed to make the most of everything that he had
heard or witnessed, by either laying it down as the groundwork of a tale, or

JOHN GALT. 225

introducing it as an amusing episode; and in this faculty of adaptation lay
much of the excellence of his popular works. Thus his vis^orous and picturesque
description of the northern coast of Scotland, in the "Entail," was expanded
from an interesting account of the locality given to him by a daughter of Sir
John Sinclair; while many of the grotesf^ue events and humorous jokes with
which his other tales abound, had long previously enlivened the firesides of the
peasantry. In him, however, it was no small merit that he should have intro-
duced them so happily, and told them so well. As a proof of the acceptability
of his last-mentioned work. Gait tells us, in his " Literary Life and Miscellanies,"
that Sir Walter Scott had read it thrice, and Lord Byron as often. Of " Ringan
Gilhaize," he also tells us that it received the unique and distinguished honour
of being recommended from the pulpit by one of the ministers of Aberdeen.
This tale, in which the narrator, a persecuted Covenanter, relates the history of
his grandfather, gives a sketch of the rise and progress of the Reformation in
Scotland, from the days of Knox and ]\Iurray to the close of the reign of the
Stuarts ; and for the purpose of collecting materials, and preserving the accuracy
of the narrative. Gait went to Rinsory-house to gather traditions, and collected
several relics of the battle of Killiecrankie. The cause which incited him to
write such a work was indignation at the popularity of "Old Mortality," in
which the Covenanters were held up to ridicule ; and he was animated with a
chivalrous zeal to vindicate the character of these heroic but much-vilified
sufferers in the cause of conscience and religion. But unfortunately Ringan
Gilhaize was no match for Balfour of Burley. In this tale Gait very rashly
abandoned his own field of broad reality and plain every-day life, for one where
nothing but history and imagination could aid him ; and therefore it exhibited
a marked deficiency both in execution and popular interest. It was still worse,
however, with the "Spaewife," where he went back from the Covenanting
periods, with which the Scottish public can still sympathize, to the fifteenth
century of Scottish history, about which they know little and care still less;
and with all his attempts at the sublime, which often swelled into the turgid,
he could not interest his readers one jot in the Duke of Albany and his worth-
less brood, or even in James I., our heroic ministrel king. It was certainly an
over-ambitious attempt, and as such it failed. At this period the empire of
historical romance belonged to Sir Walter Scott, and to him alone, without peer
or rival. But that such an attempt was the opening of a safety-valve, and that
the work would have exploded in some fashion or other, is manifest, from the
following statement of the author : — " The fate of James I. of Scotland early
seemed to me possessed of many dramatic capabilities; and in the dream of my
youth, to illustrate by tales, ballads, and dramas, the ancient history of m}--
country, it obtained such a portion of my attention, that I have actually made
a play on the subject. In riper life, many years after, I wrote the novel ; and
my knowledge of the age in wliich the transactions lie, enabled me to complete
the story in such a manner that, merely as an antiquarian essay, it merits con-
sideration." To the "Spaewife" succeeded " Rothelan." This also is a his-
torical novel or romance ; and not content with going back so far as to the
reign of Edward III., Gait transferred the scene to England, where his great
forte as a Scottish novelist had to be utterly laid aside ; and " Rothelan" was a
failure. Among the manifold aims of the author's ambition, that of being a
good musical composer happened to be one; and in "Rothelan," Gait had not
only written two songs, but also set them to music. But it uni'ortunately liap-
V. 2 F

226 JOHN GALT.

pened that the printer was smitten with the same amLition, and not liking the
tunes, he substituted two of liis own, which were printed in tlie work. " At
tlie time," says Gait, " I was staying with a friend, and a copy of the book was
left for me in the morning. On going down stairs I found it in the librar}^,
where we usually breakfasted ; and as pleased at the sight as a hen with her egg,
of which she cannot keckle enough to the world about, I lifted the volumes,
and turned to the tunes. Courteous reader, sympathize 1 Instead of my fine
airs, with an original inflection, that had been much admired by a competent
jiidge, 1 beheld two that surely had been purchased at the easy charge of a half-
penny a-piece from a street piper I I looked aghast, and almost fainted. There
was a grand piano in the drawing-room. I rushed, book in hand, upstairs in a
whirlwind. It was of no use — the piano too was a particeps criminis, and
Avould only pronounce the Higliland coronachs which stand in the publication
even to this day ; and the worst of it was, my friend, instead of taking out his
handkerchief and condoling becomingly, only gave vent to ' unextinguishable
laughter,' and paid no attention to my pathetic appeals at the figure I must cut,
being really no deacon among musicians, at the thought of having two such
horrid frights affiliated to me."

A change once more occurred in the life of Gait, in which the active labo-
rious author was to be transformed into the equally active and enterprising man
of business. Besides being reckoned only inferior to Sir Walter Scott as a
delineator of Scottish character and manners, his reputation stood high as one
well acquainted with the principles and practice of commerce ; and on this
account the inhabitants of Canada commissioned him as their agent to prosecute
their claims on the home government for the losses they had sustained during
the occupation of the province by the army of the United States. During the
neo-otiations which occurred in consequence, a proposal to sell Crown lands in
Upper Canada for the indemnification of the sufferers was made by Mr. Gait,
and adopted by government, and a Canada Company was incorporated in 1826,
to purchase land and colonize it. During the previous year he had been em-
ployed in valuing the lands that were to be exposed to sale, after which he had
returned to Enghmd ; but in the autumn of 1S26 he went back to Canada,
where he v/as employed by the company as their superintendent. His able and
active management soon secured the confidence of his constituents ; new settle-
ments were founded, a village was called by his name, and the township of
Guelph was his entire creation. But unfortunately Gait's activity was not
balanced by an equal amount of prudence, and in the ardour of his proceedings
he managed to involve himself in quarrels with the colonial government, and
with Sir Peregrine Maitland, who was at its head. Such is too often the folly
and the fate of those who go forth as the reformers of our colonics ; they enter
their new sphere of action with their heads filled with Magna Charta and the
rights of British citizenship, forgetful all the while of the distance of these
colonies from the parent seat of government, and the necessity of a more strin-
gent rule than would be tolerated in London or Edinburgh. This seems to have
been the error of Gait ; and in consequence of the complaints that were sent
home against him, he was superseded by the directors of the company. But,
whether in the bustle of action or the chagrin of disappointment, his pen could
not lie idle ; and during this period he produced the " Omen," a tale that was
favourably reviewed in Blackwood's Magazine by Sir Walter Scott, and the
" Last of the Lairds," a novel which he meant to be the continuation of a

JOHN GALT. 227

class that has the " Annals of the Parish " for its commencement. For the
encouragement of tlie drama in Quebec he also wrote a farce, entitled "Visitors ;
or, a Trip to Quebec," which was acted with great success ^by an amateur com-
pany. Another, which he wrote for New York, to propitiate the Americans,
who had taken offence at his " Visitors," was entitled " An Aunt in Virginia,"
and was afterwards published in Blackwood's Slagazine, with the scene trans-
ferred from New York to London. He intended to write a third for his own
town of Guelph, where his dwelling-house was to be converted into a theatre, and
the drama introduced into this infant settlement ; but his design was suspended
by more urgent demands, and the necessity of his speedy return to England.

This event occurred in 1829, after he had been two years and a half in Ame-
rica. On his return, without a situation, and almost penniless, Gait's creditors
became urgent, and he was obliged, in consequence, to avail himself of the
Insolvent Debtors' Act. The world was now to be commenced anew ; but the
elasticity of youth and the ardour of hope were exhausted, and Gait, now at the
age of fifty, had already done more than most men have achieved at that period.
And A^et he must continue an author, no longer, however, from choice, but
necessity ; for of all that he had possessed, nothing but his pen reniained. And
bravely he girded himself for the task, and published in succession " Lawrie
Todd," '•' Southennan," and the "Life of Lord Byron." They were written
with his wonted rapidity, being produced in 1829 and 1830 ; but the spirit that
formerly animated him had become languid, so that these works, excellent though
they are, will not stand comparison with his former novels that so highly inte-
rested the Scottish public. While he was occupied with the " Life of Lord
B^'ron," a caustic production, in which his lordship meets with somewhat rough
entertainment. Gait accepted the editorship of the " Courier," a newspaper of
high Tory principles. But however well-adapted in many ways for such an
office, it is easy to guess that he could not continue long to hold it, and that the
same independence of spirit v.'hich wrecked him in Canada, would mar him as
the Corvpheus of any political party whatever in the journalism of London.
"The only kind of scruple that I felt," he says, "if such it may be called, was
in thinking the politics of the journal a little too ardent for the spirit of the
times ; and in consequence, my first object was to render them more suitable to
what I apprehended was the wholesome state of opinion, preparatory to intro-
ducing occasionally more of disquisition into the articles. . . . Accordingly^
W'ithout manifesting particular solicitude to make myself remarkable, I began by
attempting gradually to alleviate the ultra-toryisni of the paper, by explanations
of more liberality than the sentiments of any party." By such an honest pro-
cedure either the newspaper or the editor must go down ; and Gait thus continues
his narrative : " I had not been long installed as editor till I perceived that the
business would not suit me. In point of emolument it was convenient ; but,
as I have elsewhere shown, money matters have ever been perhaps too slightly
regarded by me, and my resignation, though it partook of that promptitude of
enunciation which all my decisions have uniformly manifested, was, however,
the result of very solemn reflection. To men who have j aster notions of the
value of money than I have ever entertained — not from persuasion, but from
habit, if not constitutional carelessness — my resignation in such a crisis of fortuns
will not be easily comprehensible ; but to those who think, as the old song
sings, that there are things ' which gold can never buy,' no further explanation
can be necessary."

228 GEORGE GARDNER.

About the same period Gait, while thus busied with literature, attempted to
form a new American Land Company, but was unsuccessful ; and to aggravate
liis misfortunes, two attacks of paralysis warned him that his day of enterprise
had ended— that he was now chained to the oar. He retired to his native
country, there to await his time, so doubly uncertain ; and to close his eyes,
when his hour came, amidst the scenery and society which he had loved so well.
Yet he still continued to linger on from year to year, although repeated shocks
of the malady inflicted at each visitation the " bitterness of death ;" and
while his memory was impaired and his mind enfeebled, he was still obliged
to toil for the support of a life that seemed scarcely worth having. And yet he
could still be happy, for his was that healthful state of feeling that looked habi-
tually upon the bright side of things, and could find itself occupation as long as
a single faculty remained in exercise. With an amanuensis, or a chance friend
to transcribe from his dictation, he continued to pour forth volume after volume,
" to wrench life from famine," as he mournfully expressed it ; and although
these productions could scarcely bear comparison with those of his liappier
years, they still retained the impress of his former vivacity and inventiveness,
0.8 well as much of his vigorous talent and reach of thought. In this way he
produced, among other publications, the *' Autobiography of John Gait," in
two volumes 8vo, and the "Literary Life and Miscellanies of John Gait," in
three volumes 12mo, from which the materials of the foregoing sketch have
been mainly derived. At length, after the fourteenth stroke of paralysis, he
died at Greenock, on the 11th of April, 1889.

The works of Gait were very numerous, comprising about fifty volumes of
novels, and more than a score of dramas, independently of his biographical and
miscellaneous works. Of tliese, however, only a tithe of his tales will continue
to be read and valued, not only for their intrinsic excellence, but as the tran-
scripts of a state of society that is rapidly passing away. In this department
the name of John Gait will be perpetuated as a national remembrance, and his
descriptions be prized when the living reality has departed.

GARDNER, George, an eminent botanist, was born, in 1810, at Arden-
tinny, where his father, a native of Aberdeen, acted as gardener to the Earl of
Dunmore. He was the second son. In 18IG his father became gardener to
the Earl of Eglinton at Ardrossan, and there the subject of our sketch attended
the parish school till 1822, when his parents removed to Glasgow. Here he
was placed at the grammar-school, and, in the course of his studies, acquired
a good knowledge of the Latin language. He had early imbibed, probably
from his father's occupation, a taste for botany; but it was perhaps as much
by accident as design that he subsequently devoted his life to the science.

He commenced the study of medicine in the Andersonian university of
Glasgow, and continued, during the winter and summer sessions of 1829,
'SO, '81, and 'S2, to pursue his studies with a degree of zeal and persevering
industry which won for him high distinction in college honours. He also,
in 1829, '30, and '31, attended the classes of anatomy, surgery, chemistry,
materia medica, &c., in the university, where he likewise distinguished himself
in the prize list. In 1830 he joined the Glasgow Medical Society, and during
that year, and 1831 and '32, his attendance at the Royal Infirmary was unre-
mitting. Still, amidst these severer studies, he found leisure to indulge his
early bias for botany. His first rudiments of the science were obtained from
Dr. Rattray, and he continued to improve himself by botanizing rambles iu

the couiitr^^, and frequent visits to tlie Botanical Garden, with the curator of
wliich, Mr. Stewart Murray, he formed a friendship which continued to the
day of his deatli. Through Mr. Alurray, and from his having discovered, in
one of his rambles, the rare Nuphar minima or pidima, growing in Mugdock
Loci), he became known to Sir William J. Hooker, the eminent professor of
botany in the university of Glasgow. He now attended Sir William's bo-
tanical lectures, and that truly amiable gentleman, soon formed a high esti-
mate of his character and talents. As a student, he made several botanical
excursions to the Highlands with the Professor and his class; and to the
intimacy thus produced may be attributed the important change in his future
career.

From the Faculty of Phj'^sicians and Surgeons of Glasgow, Gardner obtained
his diploma as surgeon, with high marks of distinction. Meanwhile he had
made himself acquainted with the flowering plants of Scotland, and studied
cryptogamic botany so successfully that, in 183G, he brought out a work,
entitled " Musci Britannici, or Pocket Herbarium of British Mosses," arranged
and named according to Hooker's " British Flora." Tiiis work was flatteringly
received, and has been of great value to muscologists. The specimens are
beautifully dried, and neatly attached; whilst its general accuracy can be
depended upon, as he had not only free access to the splendid library of Sir
William Hooker, but tlie benefit of his personal assistance.

A copy of the "Musci Britannici" having reached the late Duke of Bedford
— well known for the interest which he took in botanical science — his grace
became a liberal patron, and warmly encouraged his ambition to proceed upon
a foreign exploratory mission. After the death of the lamented Drummond,
whose labours in Texas and parts of Central America had greatly enriched the
Royal Botanic Garden, the directors of that institution were solicitous still
further to promote its scientific character; and arrangements v/ere made for his
proceeding to North Brazil, to explore the botany of that country. As in the
case of Drummond, Sir William Hooker undertook to procure a number of
subscribers for the dried specimens, and to be at the trouble of subdividing and
forwarding them to tlie respective parties; the curator, at the same time,
agreeing to take a similar charge of the seeds and living plants sent home. Many
of the public botanic gardens, as well as a number of amateur noblemen and
gentlemen, were subscribers, and by this means, for a moderate sum, had their
collections largely and richly increased. Amongst others the Duke of Bedford
was a munificent contributor; and all preliminaries having been arranged for
Gardner's departure, his grace not only interested his son, Lord Edward
Russell, R.N., commanding on the American station, in his behalf, but secured
for him a free passage out in one of H.M. ships. This, however, he politely
declined, preferring the greater privacy of a merchant ship, that he might have
leisure to study, and especially to improve himself in his knowledge of the
Spanish and Portuguese languages. So far from being off'ended, the duke
magnanimously sent a draft for £50 in lieu of the free passage.

In the summer of 183G Gardner sailed from Liverpool, and, after a favourable
passage, arrived at Rio de Janeiro, with the appearance of which, and the sur-
rounding scenery, he was perfectly captivated, and wrote home in glowing
terms, descriptive of his first impressions. Amidst scenes so tempting to a
naturalist, Gardner did not long remain inactive. He made frequent excur-
sions in the vicinity of Rio, and particularly to the Organ mountains. In these

230 GEORGE GARDNER.

rambles he was often accompanied by Mr. Miers, a gentleman resident in tlia
country, of whose kindness he ever spoke in the highest terms. His first col-
lection of plants, seeds, and specimens for the herbarium, were drawn chiefly
from this quarter, These came home in excellent condition, and proved highly
interesting. They contained many new orchids, liliaese, palms, &c. He
subsequently penetrated into the interior, and spent a considerable time in
exploring the diamond regions. He was indefatigable in his mission, and his
long and toilsome journej^s were often attended with no small adventure, and
even peril. Five years — from 1836 till 1841 — were passed in Brazil. Before
returning home, which he did in the latter year, he paid a parting visit to the
Organ mountains, his object in doing so being, as he himself says, in one of his
letters, to "make a collection of some of the fine shrubs and herbaceous plants
which are to be found principally on the higher levels" of that range, to take
home with him in the living state. After penetrating into the interior, he
found the difficulty of sending home living plants almost insurmountable; yet
he continued to preserve large collections for the herbarium, whicli, with seeds
and such living plants as could endure the inland journey, prior to their long
voyage, were sent home as opportunity offered. Some of the Melastomaceas, as
Pleroma Benthamianum and Mult'iflora may be mentioned among the number
as now ornamenting every good collection of hot-house plants ; also, manj'-
beautiful Franciscas, &c.

Although botany was, of course, his chief pursuit, Gardner had ahvays an eye
to what might be of interest in other departments of natural history — hence his
collections were swelled v/ith minerals, recent and fossil shells, preserved skins
of birds, fishes, &c. He, at the same time, did not neglect his medical acquire-
ments. Throughout his extended joui'neyings, he carried his surgical instru-
ments along with him, and performed several important operations with entire suc-
cess, which not only improved his finances, but gained him many friends — thus
securing a degree of respect, comfort, and, in some cases, safety, among the
native tribes, which onlj^ a medical man might expect to enjoy. Amidst his
multifarious labours, he kept up his home correspondence with surprising
regularity, writing often to Sir William Hooker and Mr. Murray, and occa-
sionally communicating with the more distinguished foreign botanists of the
day. Several of his papers and letters were inserted by Sir William in the
"Journal of Botany." In one of these, dated Province of Minas, September 3,
1840, he refers to the death of his "generous patron, the Duke of Bedford,'
in terms which bespeak the deep gratitude by which he was actuated. Nor
did he overlook the claims of his own relations to a share in his epistolary
attention; and even his juvenile friends, such as Dr. Joseph Hooker, and Mr.
Murray's family, were not forgotten.

In 1842, not long after his return, Gardner was elected professor of botany
in the Andersonian university, and had prepared a course of lectures ; but he
did not retain that appointment, seeing, at the time, little prospect of the class
being well attended. Meanwhile he occupied himself in arranging the mate-
rials of his Brazilian journal, with a view to publication. The work, hovrever,
was still incomplete, when, in 1843, he was appointed to Ceylon, as island bo-
tanist and superintendent of the botanic garden there, by the colonial govern-
ment. This feituation lie owed to the influence of his never-failing friend. Sir
William Hooker, who had himself been, some time previously, promoted to
the office of director-general of the Royal Gardens at Kew. While in London,

GEORGE GARDNER. 231

receiving instructions before embarkation, he experienced much kindness from
Lord Stanley, now the Earl of Derby.

On arriving in Ceylon, his first consideration vs^as bestowed on the botanic
garden, which he repaired, re-arranged, and greatly improved. He then began
to make botanical excursions over the island, thus enriching the garden with the
fruits of his journeys. He also transmitted to the botanic gardens in Britain,
especially Kew, such plants and seeds as were likely to prove acceptable, ob-
taining in return the productions of other climes — South America, the West
Indies, &c., for the Ceylon garden. During his rambles he discovered the
upas tree, which was not previously known to exist in Ceylon. A writer in
one of the Ceylon papers, whose article was copied into " Chambers's Journal,"
says : — " When returning to Kornegalle, we were most fortunate in the plea-
sure of having for a companion Dr. Gardner, the eminent botanist, in whose
company the most insignificant plant or flower has an interest, in relation to
which, he has always something instructive to tell. On our journey back to
Kandy, he discovered the upas tree, growing within a few miles of Kornegalle.
It was not known before that it grows in Ceylon."

Gardner's position and eminence, as a botanist, led him into an extensive
correspondence, notwithstanding which, and his multifarious official duties,
he so regulated his labours as to be able, not long after his arrival in Ceylon,
to finish the arrangement of his Brazilian papers, which were published in
London, by Reeves Brothers, in 1846. The work, 5G2 pp. Svo, is entitled,
"Travels in the Interior of Brazil, principally through the Northern Provinces
and the Gold Districts, during the years 1836-41." It was very favourably
received, being sufficiently popular in its style to interest the general reader,
whilst it did not disappoint the expectations of the man of science.

Lord Torrington, governor of Ceylon, proved a kind friend and patron to
Gardner, thereby enabling him greatly to extend his botanical labours ; so also
did Sir James Emmerson Tennent, the secretary. Both of these honoured
names are often mentioned with grateful feelings in his letters. It was at
Ileuria Ellia Rest-house, the residence of Lord Torrington, that his demise
took place. He arrived there on the 10th of March, 1849, about 3 o'clock p.m.,
and, after luncheon with Lord and Lady Torrington, retired to rest in his room,
his lordship and Dr. Fleming riding out meanwhile. Next day the party was
to have gone on an excureion to the Horton Plains. Lord Torrington and the
doctor had not proceeded far when they were recalled by express, Gardner
having been attacked by a severe fit of apoplexy. Everything was done
which medical science could suggest, but all to no purpose; he died at 11 o'clock
at night, surrounded by a circle of deeply grieved friends. He was in the
prime of life, and, as remarked at luncheon by Lady Torrington, never seemed
in better health and spirits. He had been remarkable throughout life for
abstinence. Even during three years of constant travelling, irregularity, and
fatigue, while exploring the interior of Brazil, he drank nothing stronger than
tea, of which he had secured a good supply before leaving Pernambuco.

Lord Torrington, in communicating the afflicting intelligence to Sir William
Hooker, thus warmly eulogizes the character of the deceased : '•' I can honestly
say that the colony, and the public in general, have experienced a severe loss
in this talented and excellent man— one who was loved by all— never did I
see so amiable a person, one who possessed more benevolence, or was more
ready to impart information to those who asked for it."

232 WALTER GEIKIE.

Thus the science of botany was deprived of an enthusiastic student, and able
expositor, in the prime of life and the vigour of intellect. It is believed, by
those who best knew him, that his end was hastened by excessive mental
labour. Amongst his numerous MSS. is one in a finished state, which he was
about to send to press, designed as an elementary work on the botany of
India; and, as stated by Sir W. Hooker, in noticing his death in the "Joui-nal
of Botan}'," he had made extensive collections towards a complete "Flora Zey-
lanica." As a matter of general interest, it is not unworthy of notice that Gard-
ner had taken out a patent for preparing coffee leaf, so as to afford a beverage,
by infusion, "forming an agreeable, refreshing, and nutritive article of diet."

According to Gardner's will, his books and herbarium were to be offered to
the Ceylon government, to form part of the establishment at Peradinia, at a
certain valuation; and, if not accepted, to be forwarded to his executor in
Britain, Sir W. Hooker. The government having declined the offer, they were
accordingly placed at the disposal of Sir William, by whose disinterested efforts
the herbarium realized prices much beyond what could have been expected.

GEIKIE, Walter. — It has often been observed, that the Scottish national
character abounds in contradictions. Poetical though it be, it has never produceil
a Milton ; and in spite of all its wisdom and sagacity, it has not as yet exhibited
a first-rate statesman. The same inconsistency is perceptible in the fine arts ;
so that, in spite of the imaginative and the humorous, by which that character
is distinguished, Scotland has been barren of caricaturists. From the time of
Hogarth to that of H. B., England has so plentifully abounded with such artists
as to be eminently the land of caricature delineation ; but Scotland, with all its
shrewd observation, its perception of the ludicrous, and quiet love of fun, which
constitute the chief elements in this dejjartment of pictorial art, haS as yet pi*o-
duced no specimens of it except those of poor Walter Geikie — the very man, too,
be it observed, from whom, on account of his physical disqualifications, produc-
tions of this kind were least to be expected.

Walter Geikie, whose droll and homel}'- sketches are to be found upon the
table of every Edinburgh drawing-room, was the son of Mr. Archibald Geikie,
perfumer, and was born in Charles Street, George Square, Edinburgh, on the
9th November, 1795. Before he had completed his second year, he was at-
tacked by a dangerous ear disease; and although he recovered, it was at the
expense of being deaf and dumb for life. It was too much the fashion at this
time in Scotland to consider dmnbics as incapable of education, so that they
Avere generally allowed to go at large, and vegetate as they best might ; but
happily, Walter was the son of a pious and intelligent father, who had a better
sense of his paternal responsibility : he taught his bereaved boy the alphabet,
so that the latter not only learned to read, but to understand what he read.
Writing and arithmetic followed, in which Walter showed himself an apt
scholar. When he had thus acquired the rudiments of education, it happened,
fortunately for him, that Mr. Braidwood, the successful teacher of the deaf and
dumb, was invited to Edinburgh, to open an institution there, and Geikie became
one of his earliest pupils. In this new school the boy's proficiency was so rapid
that he was soon emjjloyed as a monitor. He showed also that he was no mere
common-place learner, for he was in the practice of writing down extracts of
the passages that best pleased him in the authors whose works he perused.
While he was thus storing his mind with knowledge, and qualifying himself,
notwithstanding his defects, for a life of usefulness, his path was determined.

"WALTER GEIKIE. 233

While yet a child, he had been in the practice of cutting ont representations of
tlie ol)jects tliat struck him on paper; afterwards he had attempted to portray
them with chalk on floors and walls; and rising higher still in picfcorial art, he
at length betook himself to the use of the pencil. He did not, however, satisfy
himself, like other young sketchers, with merely copying the pictures of othei'S :
instead of this, he would be satisfied with nothing short of the original object ;
and therefore he often roamed about the suburbs of Edinburgh, or among the
fields, transferring into his note-book whatever most pleased his fancy. This
was the form of language in which he found he could best express himself, and
therefore it is not to be wondered at that lie should cultivate it so carefully.
At the age of fourteen he was sent to learn drawing by regular rule, under l\Ir.
Patiick Gibson, and such was his progress, that in 1812 he was admitted a
pupil of the Academy of Drawing, established for the encouragement of Scot-
tish manufactures, where he had for his preceptor Mr. Graham, the teacher of
Allan and Wilkie.

By this course of training the future profession of Walter Geikie was con-
firmed. He was to be an artist; and it remained to be seen in what depart-
ment his excellence was to consist. It was not certainly in painting, for he
soon discovered that his attempts in oil were decidedly inferior to those of others
in warmth and harmony of colouring ; and although his " Itinerant Fiddlers,"
"All Hallow Fair," and the " Grassmarket," now in the collection at Hope-
toun House, were the best specimens of his painting in oil, thej' scarcely exceed
the efforts of a mere fourth-rate artist. It was in sketching that he best suc-
ceeded, while the subjects of his preference were not the beautiful or the sub-
lime, but the homely and the ludicrous. He would rather sketch a pig- sty than
a palace, and an odd face had more attraction in his e^^es than all the ideal
beauty of the Venus de Medicis. It was upon this predilection that he acted.
He hunted about in quest of singular visages, at which, with his ready pencil,
he would take a flying shot as he passed along the street ; and as such commo-
dities are by no means scarce in Edinburgh, his collection was soon both rich
and various. This kind of sportsmanship, however, was not without its dangers,
for those who were best fitted for the artist's purposes were generally the least
disposed to have their effigies perpetuated. One amusing incident of this kind
i5 related by his biographer. Geikie had become desperately enamoured of the
turned-up nose, rhinoceros upper lip, and pot-belly of a porter of tlie Grass-
market, and longed to appropriate them in such a way as not to impoverish
their lawful owner. But the porter, who had seen his hungry look, and sus-
pected his purpose, had continued to dodge him, until one day he found himself
all but fixed upon the artist's paper. Enraged at the discovery, he stormed, swore,
and threatened ; but Geikie, who was in ecstasy with his rich attitudes, and
could not hear the threats, continued the drawing, until he saw his model rush-
ing upon him like a maddened bull in the arena. He took to his heels, but
was so hotly pursued that he had to take refuge in a common stair ; and the
porter, thinking that his tormentor was housed, resolved to await his comino-
forth. Geikie, in the meantime, who was watching every movement through
a dingy window in the stair, contrived to finish his sketch, and crown it with
the last touch. But how to get out when his work was finished ! This seemed
beyond the power of strategy, for there stood his merciless enemy on the watch ;
and there he remained for hours. Some lucky chance at Inst called away the
bearer of burdens, and Geikie stole from his concealment when he found the

V. 2o

234 EGBERT GILFILLAN,

coast clear. He had caught the porter, and saved his own bones. The fastidi-
ous object of his sketch forms a conspicuous figure in the group of the " Street
Auctioneer."

The mirthful spirit of the artist, which drew him so powerfully to congenial
subjects, was not confined to drawing ; it found vent also in buoyant mimicry,
in which he could act the droll characters of his daily search, as well as draw
them. In this way, though deprived of the power of utterance, he could deliver
jokes that set the company in a roar. It is gratifying also to add, that with all
this mirthfulness there was a soundness of moral principle and depth of religious
feeling within him that aimed at nobler ends than the harmless amusement of
society. From infancy he had received a religious education, and it was all the
more endeared to him, perhaps, from the difficulty which he must have found
in acquiring those spiritual ideas of which he saw so few visible symbols. Sacred
and sincere, indeed, must be the devotion of the deaf and dumb ! He was also
eager to impart what he had learned, and therefore, with two friends under the
same bereavement as himself, he established a religious meeting of the deaf and
dumb, to whom, on the Sabbaths, he preached and expounded by signs. After
Geikie's death this interesting congregation was kept up by a worthy successor,
who, we believe, still continues the good work which the artist so laudably
commenced. After an uninterrupted course of good health, a short illness of a
few days occurred, under which Geikie died, on the 1st of August, 1837. He
was buried in the Grey friars' church-yard. Of his productions it is unnecessary
to enter into farther analysis, as these, ninety-four in number, illustrative of
Scottish character and scenery, have been published in one volume, and are
familiarly known to almost every class. They are also accompanied with
explanations, and a biographical introduction by Sir Thomas Dick Lauder,
from which the foregoing facts have been chiefly derived.

GILFILLAN, llOBERT.— This amiable poet of domestic life, and popular
song-writer, was born in Dunfermline, Fifeshire, on the 7th of July, 1798, and
was the second of three sons. His father was a man of respectable condition,
according to the reckoning of the times in provincial towns, for he was a master
weaver, and kept several looms in full employment. His mother, who died in
1841, was justly characterized as "a woman of high intellectual powers, and
one who, belonging to the middle classes of society, was distinguished by high
literary acquirements, united to a modesty that rather fostered the talents of
others than exhibited her own." Can we easily imagine a poet of good, current,
lasting songs, born in a loftier position, or independent of such a maternity?
Like most bards, and especially of this particular class, Robert Gilfillan's natu-
ral tendency was called forth in early life, under the pressure of a stirring public
impulse. While still a boy, he had joined a group of urchins like himself, to
make merry during the Christmas holidays with the sport of guising, or giiis-
ardi)ig~an old Saxon revel, scarcely yet disused in Scotland, but which is now
generally supplanted by the drawing-room amusement of charades ; and while
employed in this merry street masquerade, instead of confining himself to the
hundred-year-old hackneyed stanzas about Alexander the Great and Galatian,
he chanted a song of his own composition on the death of Sir Ralph Aber-
cromby, at that time a recent event, and by which the sympathies of every cot-
tage in Scotland had been roused into full native vigour. Young GilfiUan on
this occasion received more than the usual poet's meed of pence and praise from
the good wives of Dunfermline, who listened at their doors in silent admiration.

IIOBERT GILFILLAN. 235

After this sudden outburst of rhyme, a long interval succeeded : school -boy
trials, and the succeeding cares and difficulties of apprenticeship, are generally
sufficient to banish the muses for years, if not for life ; and Robert Gilfillan, who
at the age of thirteen removed with his parents to Leitli, was employed during
a seven years' service in the unpoetical occupation of hammering tubs and barrels,
having been bound apprentice for that period to a cooper. Although he manfully
endured this probation, he abandoned the trade of a cooper as soon as his term
of indenture had expired ; and returning to Dunfermline in 1818, he was em-
ployed for nearly three years in the superintendence of a grocery establishment.
Here his first love returned upon him in full vigour, and his attempts in song-
writjng were accompanied with the work of self-improvement, which he pro-
secuted not only by general reading, but associating with the young men of his
neighbourhood who were like-minded witli himself. In this way, not only his
acquired knowledge, but his conversational power in the use of it, made him
distinguished in Dunfermline society, and caused him to be regarded as one
whose future career would surpass that of his companions. After this he again
settled in Leith, where he was first employed in the warehouse of a firm of oil
and colour merchants, and subsequently in that of a wine merchant, as confi-
dential clerk, until 1837, when he was appointed collector of the police rates at
Leith, which situation he held till the close of his life.

In this way Mr. Gilfillan held onward in his course, and fulfilled his mission
as a useful member of society ; but as a poet he had continued during his several
changes of store-keeper, clerk, and tax-gatherer, to labour for a wider sphere and
a more permanent memorial. The first earnest of this he enjoyed in the popu-
larity of his songs, which, although still unpublished, were circulated over the
whole of Scotland, and sung not only at public festivals, but also at social and
domestic meetings. How was it possible, under such circumstances, to resist the
temptations of the press? It speaks much, however, for his self-denial, that he
did not yield until he had attained the matured reflective age of thirty-three,
and when his songs had stood the test of years. In 1831, he became an authoi',
by publishing a small volume of about 150 pages, under the title of "Original
Songs," which he dedicated to Allan Cunningham, himself, next to Burns,
the prince of Scottish song-poets. So successful Avas this appeal to public
approbation, that in 1835 he brought out a new edition, increased by fifty
additional pieces; and soon after its appearance, a piiblic dinner was given to
him in the Royal Exchange, Edinburgh, and a massive silver cup pi-esented to
him on the occasion, thus inscribed: — "Presented to Mr. Robert Gilfillan, by
the admirers of native genius, in token of their high estimation of his poetical
talents and private worth. Edinburgh, 1835." In 1839 he published a third
and still larger edition of his original volume, sixty new songs being added to
the collection ; and by this completed work he will continue to hold an honoured
place in the third rank of Scottish song- writers — Burns being of the first and
standing alone, and Hogg and Cunningham being taken as the representatives
of the second. In addition to those warm, but simple and narrowed home
affections, which formed the chief themes of his lyrics, and in the delineation
of which he has not often been surpassed, there is a moral purity in the songs
of Gilfillan in which he has verj^ seldom been equalled. But how, indeed, could
it be otherwise, when we take into account the ordeal to which he submitted
them? " It was his practice," says his biographer, " to read to his mother and
sister his songs as he wrote them ; and he was entirely guided by their judgment

23G

EEV. THOMAS GILLESPIE, D.D.

regarding them." This was better still than the housekeeper of Moliere! One
circumstance connected with this gentle home tribunal of criticism first gave him
the hope that fome was within his reach. He was reading his " Fare tliee well,
for I must leave thee," when his sister, and a young lady, a cousin of his own,
who was present, were so deeply affected, that they burst into tears. After
such an incident, some of our readers might wish to know the song: it is as
follows: —

'•' Fare tkco well, for I must leave thee,
But, O ! let not our parting grieve thee;
Ilappier days may yet bo mine,
At least I wish them thine — believe mo I ^

" We part — but, by those dew-drops clear,
My love for thee will last for ever ;
I leave thee — but thy image dear,
Thy tender smiles, will leave me never.

" 0 ! dry those pearly tears that flow —
One farewell smile before we sever;
The only balm for parting woe
Is — fondly hope 'tis not for ever.

- Though dark and dreary lowers the" night.
Calm and serene may be the morrow;
The cup of pleasure ne'er shone bright,
AVithout some mingling drops of sorrow!

" Fare thee well, for I must leave thee.
But, O ! let not our parting grieve thee ;
Ilappier days may yet be mine.
At least I wish them thine— believe me 1"

The rest of the incidents in P.Ir. Gilfillan's tranquil life scarcely require com-
memoration. Independently of his devotion to poetry, which was his master
affection, he took pleasure in the various departments of light and every-day
literature, and was a frequent contributor to the " Edinburgh Journal," and
the " Dublin University Magazine," Although he continued to the end of his
days a bachelor, he was not the less subject to painful bereavements, and these,
too, at that period of life when the affections are most confirmed; for his mother
died in 1844, and his sister in 1849, and thus the voices tliat had hitherto
cheered him onward were no longer heard. His own death occurred on the 4th
of December, 1850, and was occasioned by a stroke of apoplexy. His remains
were buried in the church-yard of South Leith, where a monument, by the sub-
scription of his admirers, has been erected to his memory.

GILLESPIE, Rev. Thomas, D.D. — Was born in the parish of Clossburn,
Dumfries-shire, l)ut in what year we have been unable to ascertain. He received
the rudiments of education at the celebrated seminary of Wallacehall, in his own
native parish, and afterwards went through the curriculum of the Dumfries
Academy, a place noted for its excellence among the educational establishments
of Scotland. Having been designed for the church, Mr. Gillespie enrolled as a
student in the University of Edinburgh ; and after having been distinguished in
the Divinity-hall b^r liis talents and scholarsliip, was licensed as a preacher, and
a few years aftervk-ards was presented by the United College, St. Andrews, to
the parish of Cults, in the presbytery of Cupar-Fife. In this ministerial charge
he was the immediate successor of the Rev. David Wilkie, father of the cele-

JOHN GILLIES, LL.D. 237

bi-ated painter ; and on taking possession of his manse, he was grieved to find
that, in the process of cleaning and white-washing, the sketches Avith which Sir
David Wilkie, when a little boy, had covered the walls of his nursery, were
remorselessly swept awa}'. To a man of Gillespie's taste and enthusiasm, ife
seemed as if his entrance into a peaceful home had been preceded by an onslauglifc
of the Vandals ; but after settling in Cults, he made many inquiries into the
earl}^ history of Sir David, which he communicated to Allan Cunningham, the
artist's eloquent biographer. Over the portal of the manse, also, in imitation of
Gil Bias, he afterwards carved that couplet of the Latin poet —

" Invoni pcrtum, spos efc lortuna valcte ;
Sat me lusistis, ludite nunc alios."

This final good-bye to hope and fortune, however, was somewhat premature ;
for having been appointed assistant and successor to Dr. John Hunter, professor
of Humanity in St. Andrews, whose daughter Mr. Gillespie had married, he
relinquished the ministerial charge of Cults, and became a resident in the ancient
town of St. Andrews.

In his capacity of a country divine, and afterwards as a professor, Mr. Gilles-
pie was distinguished by superior talent, both as an able writer, and ready elo-
quent speaker. His chief work was a volume of sermons on the "Seasons;"
but his contributions to some of our best newspapers and journals, both in prosa
and verse, showed how high a rank he might have attained as an author had ho
devoted his labours to this deijartment. But his productions through the press
were the light buoyant sallies of an occasional hour of leisure, as a relief from
more important occupations, rather than serious and continued efforts ; and as
such they were read, admired, and forgot, amidst the gay sparkling literature
of the hour to which they were contributed. It was in the pulpit, as an eloquent,
persuasive divine, and in his university chair, as an effective teacher of classical
literature, that his whole energies were thrown forth ; and when he died, a blank
was left both in presbytery and college, which his learned and reverend brethren
felt would not soon be filled up. Dr. Gillespie's death, which was sudden,
occurred at Dunino, on the II th of September, 1844. He was twice married,
and his second wife was daughter of the Rev. Dr. Campbell, formerly minister
of Cupar, and sister of the Right Hon. Lord John Campbell.

GILLIES, John, LL.D., F.R.S., F.A.S., member of many foreign societies,
and historiographer to his Majesty for Scotland. The many literary titles of
this erudite and once popular historian, evince the high estimation in which lie
was held by the learned men of his day. lie was born at Brechin, in the count/
of Forfar, on tlie 18th of January, 1747. Although of a family belonging to the
middling classes, he was not its only distinguished member, as one of his younger
brothers became an eminent law^'er at the Scottish bar, and finally attained
the rank of Lord of Session. John Gillies was educated at the University of
Glasgow, and there he so highly distinguished himself by his classical attain-
ments, that, before he was of age, he was appointed to teach the classes of tlio
Greek professor, who had been laid aside by old age and infirmity. Instead ot"
waiting, hov>'ever, for those turns of fortune that might have elevated him to
the chair which he had filled as deputy, he repaired to London, for the purpose
of devoting himself to authorship. Before he settled down in the metropolis,
he resolved still further to qualify himself for his future occupation by tho
study of the livhig languages; and for this purpose he took up his residence for

238 JOHN GILLIES, LL.P.

some time on the Continent. Upon his return he was engaged by the Earl of
Hopetoun to accompany his second son as travelling tutor ; and as it was neces-
sary that he should relinquish certain profitable literary engagements into which
Jie had already entered, before he set out with his pupil, he was remunerated for
the sacrifice by the Earl in 1777, who settled upon him a pension for life. But
in the year previous his young charge died abroad ; and a few years afterwards
he was induced to undertake the charge of two other sons of the Earl, who were
about to travel on the Continent— one of them being John, afterwards Sir John
Hope, and finally Earl of Hopetoun, distinguished by his military achievements
— the other, Alexander, afterwards Sir Alexander Hope, lieutenant-governor
of Chelsea Hospital. During the interval that elapsed between his first and
second tutorship, and v.-hen no such interruption was anticipated, he liad com-
menced the purposed business of his life in earnest, by publishing his first
work. This was the "Orations cf Lysias and Socrates, translated from the
Greek, with some account of tlieir Lives; and a Discourse on the Histor^^,
Manners, and Character of the Greeks, from the conclusion of the Peloponnes-
sian War to the Battle of Chseronea," 1778, 4to. About the same time he
received the diploma of LL.D., the first of his literary distinctions.

On returning from the Continent, when his office of travelling-tutor had
ended, which it did in 1784, Dr. Gillies resumed those labours which were so
congenial to his tastes and habits, and w^hich were now continued to the end of
a verj' long life. His previous duties had not only furnished him with such a
competence as to make him independent of the many painful contingencies to
which authorship as a profession is subject, but had closely connected him with
the Hopetoun family, to whose early patronage and continuing kindness he was
wont to attribute much of the happiness by which his tranquil course was
enlivened. Two years after his return to England, he published the first por-
tion of the work by which he is best knov.-n, entitled the " History of Ancient
Greece, its Colonies and Conquests, from the earliest accounts till the Division
of the Macedonian Empire in the East; including the History of Literature
Philosophy, and the Fine Arts," 2 vols. 4to, 1786. This work, which was
continued in a second part, was so acceptable to the scholars of Germany, that
a translation of it into German was publislied at Vienna in 1825, while at
home it was so popular that it went through several editions. Time, however,
which has so much diminished the lustre that invested the literature and science
of the last century, has not spared his history any more than it has done the
more distinguished productions of Hume and Gibbon ; and Gillies, the once
distinguished historian of Greece, is now subjected to an ordeal through which
few of his contemporaries have passed unscathed. Newer and juster views, the
fruit of a more ample experience and sounder philosophy ; a more extensive
knowledge of Grecian history and antiquity, and a more rigid and severe taste
in historical writing, by which the present day is in the habit of judging the
labours of the past, will no longer be satisfied with any history of ancient
Greece that has as yet been produced. But, notwithstanding the faults that
have been objected to the work of Gillies under this new and improved school
of criticism, it vras certainly a most useful production in its day, and well
worthy of the approval Avith v/hich it was welcomed by the learned ; so that,
notwithstanding the complaints that have been made of the dulness of his dis-
sertations, the pomposity of his style, and the occasional unfaithfulness of his
translations, we have still to wait for a better history of Greece. By a curious

REV. ROBERT GORDON, D.D. 239

coincidence, the first part of the work, and the first volume of " Mitford's His-
tory of Greece" — two rival publications upon a common subject — v/ere pub-
lished during the same year.

The rest of the life of Dr, Gillies presents few incidents for tlie biographer.
In 1793 he succeeded Dr. Robertson as historiographer royal for Scotland, a
sinecure office, to which a salary of £200 per annum is attached. He was also
elected a member of several societies in our own country, as also a corresponding-
member of the French Institute and of the Roj'al Society of Gottingen. In
179-1 he married. His various publications continued to appear at distant
intervals, until the debility of old age compelled him to lay aside his pen ; and,
having done enough for fame and fortune, he retired in 1830 to Clapham, near
London, where the rest of his life was passed in tranquil enjoyment, until he
died, at the age of ninety, without disease and without pain. This event oc-
curred on the 15th of February, 1838.

Besides his writings which we have already specified, Dr, Gillies published:—

1. " View of the Reign of Frederic II. of Prussia, with a Parallel between
that Prince and Philip II. of Macedon," 1789, 8vo.

2. " Aristotle's Ethics and Politics, comprising his Practical Philosophy,
translated from the Greek ; illustrated by Introductions and Notes, the Critical
History of his Life, and a New Analysis of his Speculative Works," 1797,
2 vols. 4to.

3. " Supplement to the Analysis of Aristotle's Speculative Works, con-
taining an account of the Interpreters and Corrupters of Aristotle's Philo-
sophy, in connection with the times in which they respectively flourished,"
1804, 4to.

4. " The History of the Ancient World, from the Dominion of Alexander to
that of Augustus, with a Preliminary Survey of Preceding Periods," 1807-10,
2 vols. 4to. This was afterwards reprinted in 4 vols. 8vo, as the " History of
Ancient Greece, its Colonies and Conquests, Part II.," 1820.

5. " A New Translation of Aristotle's Rhetoric, wath an Introduction and
Appendix, explaining its relation to his Exact Philosophy, and vindicating that
Philosophy by proofs that all departures from it have been deviations into
Error," 1823, 8vo.

GORDON, Rev. Robert, D.D. — This acute original thinker and eloquent
preacher was born in Glencairn, Dumfriesshire, on the 5th of May, 1786. His
early opportunities for obtaining a superior education appeared certain, as his
father, a man of considerable natural endowments, as Avell as high religious worth,
was parochial schoolmaster at Kirkland of Glencairn. This prospect, however,
was apparently extinguished when Robert was about sis years old, by the death
of his father ; but it often happens that such a bereavement, instead of discou-
raging, only braces a mind of native energy, and fits it for future excellence by
a stern apprenticeship of effort and self-reliance. Besides this, he still possessed
an able guide, so far as his school-boy studies and the bias of his mind were con-
cerned, in his surviving parent, of whom he was the only son ; a woman cha-
racterized in her limited circle by strong intellect, as well as pious principles.
How Robert availed himself of these advantages was well attested by the fact,
that when he had scarcely reached his sixteenth year he was appointed by the
heritors of Kirkland to the office of parish teacher, which his father had occu-
pied. Not only the excellence of his scholarship, but also the steadiness and
energy of his character, must have been well established, when they were allowed

210 EEV. EGBERT GORDON, D.D.

to outweigh such an immaturity in point of years. The choice was justified ;
for though so young, he conducted himself in such a trying position with the
steadiness and gravity/ of matured manhood ; and liis pupils, several of whom
were older than himself, regarded him not only with affection, but deep, dutiful
respect.

As it was to the office of the ministry that the wishes of Robert Gordon had
been directed, he did not long remain in that of a schoolmaster. Attendance at
the university was neces3ar3% and he repaired to Edinburgh, wliere, like many
of those who have become the most talented divines of tiie day, he supported
liimself during his course of study at the university by the scanty resources of
tutorship ; and thus fought his way onward, step by step, until he reached the
Divinity-hall. In this rough fashion not a few of the ablest linguists, as well
as profoundest thinkers, of our chui'ch are formed for active service. A situa-
tion as tutor in Perthshire occasioned his removal from Edinburgh, and the
prosecution of his theological studies at Marischal College, Aberdeen, where he
enrolled as a student in divinity in 1809, and at the age of twenty-three. At
this period, also, he was a member of the Theological Society, composed of
theological students of the college, and there formed acquaintancesiiips with
several who afterwards became distinguished ornaments in the church, and with
whom his intercourse continued till the close of life. His appearances as a stu-
dent at this period are thus described by one of the members. He "soon
attracted much attention by his power of reasoning and of expressing bis
thoughts in nervous language. In fact, there was a general reluctance to en-
counter him in argument, or to take the opposite side of a question to that
which he supported. He manifested both a great facility in dealing with prin-
ciples, and a great acuteness in detecting the fallacies of an opponent. Still, his
example unquestionably exercised a very salutary influence in stimulating the
ether members to prepare themselves on questions to be discussed, so as not to
treat them in a superficial manner, as they were aware that their reasonings and
averments would have to undergo a sifting process. His manner of debating,
too, characterized by great fairness, tended much to correct a habit into which
3'oung controversialists are apt to fall, viz., that of triumphing in small advan-
tages, and of substituting empty declamation for argument." While such was
his intellectual character, his moral deportment was in admirable coincidence
and harmony. The same commemorator of his early days thus continues : —
" Modesty was a quality by which he was eminently characterized at the time
of which we speak. He could bear his part well in general society, but he
ahvaj^s showed much deference to his elders, especially if the^^ had other claims
to respect. His early friends will remember that he used to manifest the deepest
abhorrence of anything in the shape of falsehood, mean selfishness, and hypo-
crisy, and a most withering contempt of all false and hollow pretensions." In
what strong relief all these qualities of his youth were brought out when Dr.
Gordon entered into public life, can be well remembered by those who enjoyed
his society, and now deplore his recent departure.

The attendance of Mr. Gordon at the Divinity-hall extended over five ses-
sions, partly at the University of Edinburgh, but more especiall3'^ at Aberdeen ;
and with the study of theology, tlrat of the exact sciences occupied much of his
attention. It was to these, indeed, that his original bias tended, and their study
influenced his intellectual chai'acter both as a scholar and theologian. He cared
little for the produce of imagination, and would at any time have preferred a

EEV. ROBERT GORDON, D.D. 241

problem to n poem : instead of being contented to see an idea looming in the
distance and through the mist, and taking it upon sucli doubtful securit}', ho
must needs gauge it in all its length, breadth, and thickness, before he could be
satisfied. It was no wonder, therefore, tliat lie was so impassive to transcenden-
talism, and that in after years lie characterized one of Coleridge's marvellous mo-
nologues, to which he had listened with a countenance of mathematical severity,
as "all buff." This intellectual tendency had made him a close and accurate
meteorological observer; had enabled him to discharge successfully the duties
of a factor as well as tutor to one of his employers, and had pointed him out as
the fittest person to write the articles, " Geography," "Euclid," and " Meteor-
olog\^,'' in the Edinburgli Encyclopedia. It was also these powers of calcu-
lation, combined with capacity for the multifarious details of business, that
procured for him the tempting offer of an important situation in tlie East India
House. But all these capacities he devoted exclusively to the service of the
church, and they were manifested not only in his mode of teaching as an in-
vestigator and expounder of the lessons of Divine truth, but the efficiency with
which he managed those financial operations connected witli the churcirs wel-
fore that were committed to his care.

The first public situation which Robert Gordon held was tliat of master
in the Academy of Perth ; but not long after, he was appointed minister to
the parish of Kinfauns, Perthshire. In this rural charge he remained only
four years, having been called in 1820 to the old chapel of ease in Buccleuch
Street, Edinburgh ; and soon after to the quoad sacra church of Hope Park,
which was built for him. His arrival in Edinburgh produced an unwonted
stir, and he was soon one of the most popular and highly-valued preachers
of the day. At this no one was so astonished as himself: his innate modesty
could not perceive wherefore he was so followed after; and while he shrunk
from such popularity as a misplaced and uncertain Hieing, it only clung to him
the more pertinaciously on that account. His preaching, indeed, was in a style
that was all his own — it was religious truth in its own native simplicity and
distinctness, enforced with all the impassioned earnestness of one pleading upon
a life-and-death question — theological speculation without its coldness and
abstraction, and oratory without its meretricious ornaments. Few could refuse
to listen, or listening, foil to comprehend such preaching, although it so
much transcended, both in expansiveness and depth, the usual standard of pul-
pit ministrations. A volume of these sermons, which he published, attested
its true character, so that the work went through several editions, and is still
prized as a standard production, Avhile the most intellectual of the inhabitants
of Edinburgh became part of his regular congregation. As might be expected,
also, the diploma of doctor in divinity was speedily conferred upon him. In
1825 he was translated from Hope Park to the new North Church, and in 1830,
to the High Church of Edinburgh.

During the whole course of Dr. Gordon's ministry, he was seldom to be found
engaged in the controversies of church courts ; but when it was necessary in
any important question to express his sentiments, they bore the stamp of his
reflective conscientious character, and were received with respect. Such was
the case in 1829, when the great question of Catholic emancipation would not
permit him to be silent, and when ho also found himself compelled to dissent
from most of his brethren. In spite of all the warnings of history to the con-
trary, the majority had persuaded themselves into the fond belief that Popery,

2-13 EEV. EOBEET GORDON, D.D.

which must be all or nothing, woukl be contented with only a part; and that
when its present demands were conceded, the question would be settled to all
future time, and a vexatious controversy for ever laid to rest. Ills prophetic
declarations upon this occasion, while they have been but too well justified by
succeeding events, were very different from that uncharitable sweeping con-
demnation with which it is so much the fashion to condemn every item of
Popery, and every individual holder of its tenets. Addressing the Presbytery
of Edinburgh, who had for the most part become enamoured of the soothing
system, he said : — " I know nothing in the liistory of Popery, and I have been
able to discover nothing in the manifestations of its spirit, that will warrant me
to hope that the removal of Catholic disabilities will induce the priesthood of
the Romish Church to remove the seal which they have dared to put on the
Word of God, and to permit us to carry the Bible, without let or hinderance,
among the multitudes from whom they have hitherto excluded it. I give them
credit for a deeper and a stronger attachment to their faith, than to suppose that
any political boon, or, as they think it, any act of political justice on our part,
will have any weight with them in rendering them more willing to see their
flocks transferred to the guardianship of Protestant pastors ; nor can I conceive
that they will do otherwise than smile at our simplicity when we avow a hope,
that by conceding to them the privileges vtdiich they nov/ demand, we shall
have disarmed their hostility to our tenets, and drawn them over to what they
think our heresies and our delusions. I should be disposed to draw the very
opposite conclusion. It is by their fidelity to their common cause — their deter-
mined, persevering, united efforts— such efforts as a religious union alone could
make — that they have compelled Government to adopt the measures now iu
progress for conceding to them certain privileges. I say, compelled; for, after
all the attempts to explain it away, this is in reality the acknowledgment of the
highest political authority in the empire. And are they so unskilful either in
spiritual or political tactics — so little able to avail themselves of the vantage
ground on which this measure, if successful, will place them — as to be less care-
ful of the union which has secured so important a step towards the attainment
of what must be the wish and ultimate object of every consistent Catholic — the
supremacy of their system?" Such were his sentiments upon the question of
Catholic emancipation ia 1829, and the events of the present day but too well
attest their soundness.

After this decided stand, which Dr. Gordon made in opposition to the most
esteemed and talented of his brethren, events succeeded of still more imperious
urgency, which dragged him from his peaceful seclusion, and sent him into the
arena. These were, the preludes to the disruption of the Church of Scotland,
and finally the disruption itself. Still, however, his gentle spirit predominated,
and throughout the storm of controversy that raged for years, his words were
like oil upon the troubled waters when their commotion is at the fiercest. So
high, however, was his intellectual standing, and so well understood the uncom-
promising conscientiousness of his principles, that this very gentleness which, in
an inferior or doubtful person, might have gone for nothing, only seemed, in the
case of Dr. Gordon, to give his opinions greater weight and ascendanc3% The
public, that looked on in doubt and uncertainty, were compelled to respect a
cause which had such a man for its advocate, and even the wavering of his own
party were confirmed, when they saw his hearty zeal in its behalf, and re-
membered his well-established character for wisdom, circumspection, and for-

EEV. IIOBERT GORDON, D.D. 243

bearaiice. Such was especially the case wlien they behehi liim accompanying the
Presbytery of Dunkeld to the bar of the Court of Session in 1G39, to be cen-
sured for ordaining a minister to the parish of Letliendy in opposition to a civil
interdict. In 1841 he presided as moderator of the General Assembly, and in
this capacity it was his painful duty — from which he did not shrink — to depose
the seven ministers of Strathbogie. In the same year, Dr. Gordon presided at
the great meeting which was held on the 25th of August in the West Church,
Edinburgh — a meeting limited expressly to those office-beareis of the church
who approved of its late resistance to the civil power, and were willing to per-
severe at every hazard ; and his address on that solemn occasion, to about
twelve hundred ministers and elders assembled from every part of Scotland,
while he announced the principles for which they were now called to contend,
and his own settled resolution to maintain them at whatever cost or hazard,
sunk deep into every heart. His next public appearance was at tlie convocation
held at Edinburgh in November, 18-i2, in consequence of the judgment pro-
nounced by the House of Lords on what was called the second Auchterarder
case, in which it was declared, that the refusal of a people to a patron's pre-
sentee was not only no bar to his enjojdng the temporalities of his parochial
charge, but none also to his being ordained as minister of the parish. It was
evident that the contest had come to such a height that a separation between
church and state was inevitable, if each party still continued to hold by its re-
spective principles, and accordingly the convocation was called for the purpose
of considering whether, and in v/hat manner, the separation should take place.
These meetings extended over several evenings, and were held in Roxburgl)
church, where between four and five hundred ministers gave their attendance.
It was at one of those meetings that a speech of Dr. Gordon'made a solemn im.
pression upon the hearts of his auditory ; and in the course of it he so clearlj
defined and so distinctly announced the duties of a church thus circumstanced,
that his statements form the best apology for the disruption that afterwards en-
sued. "I set out," he said, "with the principle, that the state, the supreme
power in the state, has an absolute, uncontrolled, uncontrollable dominion over
civil things. Civil rulers may exercise their power in a bad way — they may do
what is clearly wrong; but theirs is the power, as an ordinance of God : to God
they are responsible; but I, as a sulject of the realm, am bound to obey them.
In the next place, I hold that we have a certain connection with the state, in
which connection a certain temporal thing is concerned. They were entitled to
offer us these temporalities on any conditions they chose at first. In the same
way they may come forward at ajiy future period and say, ' We have changed
our mind:' they may propound new conditions to us; and if we cannot agree
to these conditions, they may take back the temporalities they gave us. But
then it may be said, 'We are not come to that ; the state does not insist yet on
the conditions to which we object.' It must be admitted, however, that the
judgment of the supreme civil court is a pr?»2« fade ground for the belief that
the state regards these conditions as binding, and that these decisions, unless re-
pudiated by the state, must be so interpreted. We don't need them to pass a
new statute declaring what the conditions are. The statute, as interpreted by
the supreme court, is virtually a new statute. It is thought by some parties
that the ecclesiastical courts will succumb to the decisions of the civil, and
therefore that the interference of the state will not be required ; it is therefore
our duty to go to the state, and say that we cannot and Avill not succumb. I

2-11 REV. ROBERT GORDON, D.D.

cannot understand how I, as an honest man, could retain my temporalities on
other conditions than those on which tliey are offered me. A reverend gentle-
man ill the house spoke cf voluntarily abandoning the temporalities, and said
that to do so would be to act at a disadvantage. Now, I do not go out of ths
Establishment voluntarily ; I am forced to it by what is iniinitel}^ more terrible
to me than the soldier's sword or the constable's baton — my own conscience. I
am persecuted into it. You may talk of maintaining the people's privileges ;
I cannot maintain them at the expense of honesty. Some may think that the
attachment of the people to our cause would be much stronger if they saw our
ministers thrust out by violence, but that is not tlie sort of attachment we desire.
We wish the attachment of men conscientiously holding our views, for that is
the only kind of attachment which will stand the test to which our people may
be exposed. Any feeling towards a minister arising from indignation at per-
sonal violence offered to him would be of very short duration."

Day by day events went onward until the moment of trial arrived. And
would a disruption in very deed take place at last, and five hundred clergymen
be found so true to their promise, and so self-denying, as to lay down their
comfortable state endowments at the demand of what so many considered a mere
abstract principle? No, it is impossible : martyrdom is only for a rough cheer-
less period of society, and not for the sleek comfortable days of this middle term
of the nineteenth century in which our happy lot has been cast ! So said
statesmen ; so said the well-endowed dignitaries of the Church of England ; so
said the moderate party of the Church of Scotland, whose violence had pre-
cipitated matters to this dangerous point. But it was not among them alone
that there was either scornful scepticism or sympathetic doubt ; for even among
tlie most confirmed of the out goers there was a painful apprehension that, even
at the last moment, there might be a wavering among their ranks, and a falling
away of many. Upon this point even Dr. Gordon too had experienced moments
of gloomy anticipation, in which he feared that the promised disruption would
finally dwindle down into a trivial dissent, whose testimony would be unheard
or unnoticed. But still, the fact that he did not flinch for an instant in his pur-
pose, whether he might be accompanied by many or by few, only places his liigli
conscientious disinterestedness in a stronger and fairer light. To him, also, the
sacrifice was accompanied with peculiar aggravations. The clerical charge he
held, besides being one of the highest in Scotland, enabled him, from its being a
collegiate one, to devote a considerable portion of time to his favourite studies ;
and he held also the lucrative office of collector of the Widows' Fund, to which
lie liad been appointed in 18GG. But high office, leisure, and emolument, were
to be foregone for the labour and precariousness of a missionary life, burdened
in his case by the growing infirmities of age, and the maintenance of a
very large family of young children, who looked wliolly to him for support, and
whose interests would be deeply compromised by the sacrifice. But he rendered
it cheerfully, and went forth with the rest ; and perhaps, as his eye glanced
backward at the long array of his brethren on their march to the new place of
meeting at Tanfield, and contrasted their numbers with his previous doubts and
misgivings, the devout joy of the triumph swallowed up all remembrance of the
sacrifice. His speech at the new General Assembly of the Free Church gave
full testimony to that effect; where, among other declarations, to which the
assembled multitudes listened with breathless interest, he uttered these words:—

"Thank God, I breathe in a better atmosphere than I have done for years

THOMAS GRAHAM (Lord Lynedoco). 2'J5

back. I was not insensible to the taunts with which we were everywhere met —
the taunt tl)at, as honest men, we should leave the Establisliment. It was very
wearisonie and fatiguing — very exhausting, even for the ablest of our men, to
be day after day defending us and themselves from that charge. It was still
more painful, perhaps, for many like me, who had not the power nor the quali-
fications to make that defence, to be remaining in silence, and hearing ourselves
treated as men rebellious against the powers that be. We were all conscious of
the injustice of this charge; we had the mens conscia recti, and that was our
consolation. Still these trials were severe. But I feel now that / am a free
man. Nay, Sir, I am not only a free man, but I am entitled to say to my ad.
versaries, who have twitted me so often with dishonesty — and whatever they
may think of the bearing with whicli I say it, I say it with a very humble
heart, and full of gratitude to Almighty God — I can say to tliem, / am cm
honest man. I have given Avhat ought to satisfy ^ozf at least that I am an honest
man ; I have sacrificed my all, except the promise of my heavenly Father, who
will bring me support for myself and my children, through tlie beneficence of
his own people who have been turned from darkness to light."

This trust was not disappointed, and the remaining years of the life of Dr.
Gordon were spent in domestic comfort, as well as public honour and usefulness.
He threw himself into his new sphere of increased duties with all the ardour of .
his matured manhood, and the energy with which these were discharged showed
little or no abatement of his former power. If any change indeed was precepti-
ble, it Avas that his style of preaching betokened the purifying furnace of trial
through v.-hich his mind had passed, for his sermons had an increase of apostolic
simplicity and unction, which made his pulpit ministrations even more effective
than before. His studies also were more exclusively confined to his pulpit
ministrations ; and although he might have lightened these labours by accepting
a colleague, he conscientiously persisted in encountering the same amount that
fell to the lot of his younger brethren. Ills death, which occurred in Northum-
berland Street, Edinburgh, on the 21st of October, 1853, in the sixty-eighth year
of his age, and thirty-eighth of his ministry, was occasioned by a stroke of paralysis.

Dr. Gordon was a member of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and of the
Royal Scottish Society of Arts; he was also one of her Majesty's master
printers for Scotland. Besides the volume of sermons, and the articles in the
"Encyclopedia Britannica" which we have mentioned, he published nothing;
but from the care with v.hich his discourses were Avritten, a series of them
have been deemed fit for the press, and are accordingly in course of publication,
under the title of "Christ as made known to the Ancient Church," and will be
comprised in four octavo volumes.

GRAHAM, Thomas, Lord Lynedocu. — This venerable warrior was descended
from a common ancestor with the Dukes of Montrose. He was the tliird son of
Thomas Graham of Balgowan, in Perthshire, by Lady Christian Hope, fourth
daughter of Charles, first Earl of llopetoun, and was born a.d. 1750. He had
thus reached his ninety-fourth year when he died, a period of life Avhich few
wlio have undergone the hardships and privations of trying campaigns are
privileged to attain.

Nothing in the early course of Thomas Graham indicated that he would be-
come not only a soldier, but a skilful and successful one. By the death of his
two elder brothers he became the heir and representative of the family; and by
his marriage witli Mary Cathcart, daughter of the ninth Lord Cathcart, his

240 THOMAS GEAIIAM (Lord Lynedocii).

affections -were so completely occupied and his home endeared, that he had
reached his forty-second year, with the character of an amiable country gentle-
man, whose highest object was the welfare of his tenants and the happiness of
all around him. But all at once this tranquil happiness was brought to a close
by the death of Mrs. Graham in 1792, after she had been married eighteen years ;
and her husband, who loved her with a surpassing affection, was inconsolable at
her death. The bereavement was also still farther imbittered by the circum-
stance of their marriage having been witliout offspring, so that no child was left
behind to cheer the solitude of his dwelling, and restore to him the look and
accents of the departed. He felt as if he had sustained a loss for which nothing
could compensate ; but instead of having recourse to the miserable remedy of
the suicide, he resolved at the age of forty-three to devote himself to a military
life, where he niiglit find, not a soldier's glory, for which at this time he cared
not, but a soldier's early grave, the refuge best fitted for a weary and broken
heart. Who would have thought that a feeling so tender and domestic v.-as to
produce the victor of Barossal It is to this commencement of his military life
that Sir Walter Scott so touchingly alludes, wdiile describing the chief heroes of
the peninsular war, in his " Vision of Don Roderick " : —

" Xor be his praise o'erpast who strove to liido .

Beneath the warrior's vest affection's wounJ,
AYhose wish, Ileavcn for his country's weal denied ;

Danger and fate he sought, but glory found.
From clime to clime, where'er war's trumpets scurid,

The wanderer went ; yet, Caledonia ! still
Thine was his thought in march and tented ground ;

He dreamed 'mid alpine cliffs of Athole's hill,
And heard in Ebro's roar his Lyncdoch's lovely rill."

This choice of a military life was made after the consolations of travel had
been tried and found ineffectual. The bereaved man had wandered through
France ; but neither its beautiful scenery, nor gay society, nor even the v.-ild
events of its Revolution, could abstract his mind from its own sorrows. He
then became a pilgrim on the shores of the Mediterranean, and passed over to
Gibraltar; and it was in the society of the officers there that his choice appears
to have been first adopted. He offered himself as a volunteer to Lord Hood,
then about to sail to the south of France, and b}^ the latter he was received with
welcome. At the commencement of the revolutionary war in 1793, Graham
landed with the British troops at Toulon, and officiated there as extra aide-de-
camp to Lord Mulgrave, the general in command. In the numerous encounters
with the enemy that distinguished this memorable siege, the new volunteer threw
himself among the foremost; and on one occasion, when a British soldier fell at
the head of the attacking column, ]Mr. Graham snatched up the musket of the
dead man, and took his place. When Toulon was evacuated by the British
and Spanish troops, Graham, now a pledged soldier, returned to Scotland, and
raised the first battalion of the 90th regiment, in which he was appointed lieu-
tenant-colonel. With this corps he passed the summer of 1795, and was after-
ward transferred to Gibraltar, where he received the rank of full colonel in the
army. The dulness of garrison dutj', however, within a sphere so limited as the
rock of Gibraltar, was only fitted to aggravate the disease for which Graham was
seeking relief, and therefore he sought and easily obtained permission to join the
Austrian army, at that time employed against the French on the Rhine. Here

THOMAS GRAHAM (Loed Lynedocii). 247

he bore a part in the disastrous canipaiga of the summer of 1796, and was after-
wards shut up with the troops of ilie brave old Wurmser in Mantua, which was
invested by the Man of Destiny, at that time known by the simple title of
General Bonaparte. The siege was so tedious, that here Colonel Graham fell
into the same malady that had compelled him to abandon Gibraltar ; and he re-
solved to leave the garrison in which he served as a volunteer, for more stirring
occupation. For this purpose he silently left Mantua on the night of the 24th of
December, 1796, amidst a torrent of rain, and accompanied by only one attend-
ant. It was a truly perilous exit ; for all the water communications with the
lake formed by the Mincio, on which Mantua is situated, were in possession of the
FrenchjSO that the lake itself was to be crossed in a boat, which stranded repeatedly
upon the little islands, and was every moment in danger of swamping. After grop-
ing through the midnight darkness and storm, the landing-place was at last
reached ; and here a new series of dangers commenced. The country round was
trodden into mire and studded with swamps, among which the travellers floundered
at hap-hazard ; and when morning dawned, Colonel Graham, who wore his
British uniform, was in danger of being arrested or shot by the enemy's pickets.
He concealed himself during the day, and travelled only at night, until he
reached a river, for the crossing of Avhich he hired a boat, intending to risk a
landing, where he would probably have been shot by the French sentinels, had
they not been previously driven from their posts by a heavy rain. lie thus crossed
the river in safety, and finally reached the army of the Archduke Charles, where
he continued till the pacification of 1797 by the treaty of Campo Formio, in
which France dictated to Austria the terms of a conqueror and master. This
termination of the war in Germany released Graham from his temporary volun-
teer service, and accordingly he returned to his old quarters in Gibraltar.

The rapid current of events quickly called Colonel Graham once more into
the field. His first employment was in the reduction of Minorca, under the
command of Sir Charles Stuart, who bore honourable testimony to the valuable
services of his brave assistant. After this island had been won, Graham repaired
to Sicily, and was of such use in retarding the falling fortunes of the king and
queen of Naples, that they testified their sense of his merits by repeated acknow-
ledgments. He was afterwards employed in an event of the highest import-
ance to the naval supremacy of our country : this was the reduction of Malta,
which had been basely surrendered to Napoleon by the Maltese knights, on the
10th of June, 1793, while he was on his way to the conquest of Egypt, and
which he had garrisoned as a key to the future conquest of India. The strength
of fort and rampart was such, that had the gates been merely kept shut, even
Napoleon himself, at the head of his victorious legions, could never have entered,
so that he only became master of the j)lace because there were traitors within to
open them. An assault upon this mighty ocean fortress was hopeless, garrisoned
as it was by such troops ; and nothing could be done except by a blockade from
the land, while our ships of war intercepted every aid that could arrive to it by
sea. In consequence of this decision, Graham, now holding the local rank of
brigadier-general, invested the approaches to Malta with a small army, sufiicient
for skirmish and observation. This slow process was successful, for after a
blockade of two years, JMalta surrendered to the British in September, 1800. It
is true, indeed, that this cession was made to Major-General Pigot, who had
previously arrived with reinforcements, and by whom the account of the sur-
render was sent home ; but the despatch bore full testimony to the able and

248 THOMAS GRAHAM (Lord Lynedocii).

successful arrangements of Graham during the protracted siege. No sooner had
the latter arrived in England at the termination, than he found tlie \Yhole land
ringing with the Egyptian campaign, and the successful struggles by which
the military glory of Britain, so long held in abeyance, had been recalled to its
standards. But what chiefly concerned Graham personally, was the gallant
deeds of his own regiment, the 90th, which, in conjunction with the 92d, had
formed the advanced guard of the British army on their landing at Abouldr.
Eager to join his brave fellows, and partake of their glory and danger, he bade
a hurried adieu to England ; but on arriving in Egypt he found his presence
unnecessary, as the whole French army had capitulated. lie therefore left the
country for a tour through Turkey, during which he stayed for some time at
Constantinople, and afterwards, in consequence of the peace of 1801, he visited
France and its capital. The next movement of Graham was to Ireland with his
regiment, where he continued from 1803 to 1805, at the end of which, his place
of military service was transferred to the West Indies. Here he remained
three years, but without that active employment which still continued to be
the breath of his nostrils. At last a prospect of occupation occurred in 1808,
in consequence of Sir John Moore being appointed to the command of the arma-
ment sent to the coast of Sweden ; and having obtained permission to accompany
Sir John as aide-de-camp, Graham joined the expedition. It endod, as is well
known, in nothing, owing to the Quixotic freak of the Swedish king, who, in-
stead of acting on the defensive, and fighting for life itself in his own territories
thought of nothing less than rushing full tilt against the whole power of Napo-
leon ; and on the refusal of Moore to co-operate with him, by taking the Russian
empire as his share of the universal meJce, he attempted to throw the Britisii
general into prison, so that the latter was obliged to hasten home with his rein-
forcements, without the opportunity of striking a single stroke. In this way
Graham, after all his hopes, had only obtained a short trip to the Baltic, which
was anything but a pleasant one. On the return of Sir John to England, he
was forthwith commissioned upon his eventful expedition to Spain, and to that
land of stirring adventure and change Colonel Graham accompanied him, still
acting as aide de-camp. He therefore participated in all the disastrous incidents
of that most unfortunate campaign, without the opportunity of obtaining a
commander's full share ia the glory with which its termination was crowned.
But all that could be won by an aide-de-camp he merited and secured. He
was affectionately remembered by Moore in his dying moments at Corunna, and
one of the last questions of the expiring hero was, "Are Colonel Graham and
all my aides-de-camp well 1" The services indeed which the colonel rendered to
the army during its retreat were such, that Sheridan thus described them in his
place in Parliament: "In the hour of peril, Graham was their best adviser; in
the hour of disaster, Graham was their surest consolation." After a long and
laborious run before the French columns in hot pursuit, Graham embarked with
the army at Corunna, after it had dealt such a parting blow at the pursuers as
sent them reeling backwards. But he was soon to return to Spain under better
auspices, and there achieve a victory that should be wholly his own.

This change, so gratifying to the heart of Colonel Graham, did not occur
until nearly three years afterwards. During the interval, however, he was
again to be connected with those unlucky expeditions of which, it might be
thought, he had already obtained somewhat more than his proper quota. This
was the Walcheren expedition, in which he held the command of a division.

having been previously raised to tlie rank of major-general. It was a useless
and hopeless campaign against malaria and pestilence ; so that, during the siege
of Flushing, he was attacked by the prevalent fever that so fearfully thinned
the British ranks, and obliged to return home. On his recovery he was sent,
with the brevet rank of lieutenant-general, to Spain, to take the command of
the British and Portuguese troops in Cadiz. The situation of this important
city was extremely precarious. Being one of the few remaining bulwarks of
Spanish independence, its possession was keenly contested by the French ; and
a large army under Soult had so closely invested it, that its capture was daily
anticipated. One of those rapid transitions, however, with which that war so
largely abounded, averted the downfall of the city. This was the invasion of
Estremadura, conducted by Soult in person at the head of 20,000 of the besieg-
ing force, leaving Victor, with the rest of the French arm}', to continue the
siege. Soult's brief campaign was one of the most brilliant episodes of the
Spanish war : he captured Olivenza, routed Mendizabal at Badajoz, and obtained
that powerful fortress by surrender ; after which successes he prepared to return
in all haste, and resume the siege of Cadiz. But during his brief absence
Graham had been as alert and ready for action as himself; and, judging the
opportunity best fitted for the purpose, he resolved to raise the siege by an
attack upon Victor. With the French and Portuguese under his command, he
embarked on the 21st of February, 1811, and landed at Tarifa on the day fol-
lowing. Tiiey then pushed forward on their route for Algesiras ; but as they
had no better road than a mule path, the artillery had to be transported by sea ;
and, owing to contrary winds, which delayed its arrival, the attack, which was
intended to be made on the 28th, was delayed for a week longer. And even
this was the least of Graham's difiiculties in advancing to action. On the 29th
he was joined by La Pena, with 10,000 Spaniards, wlio forthwith took the
command, as if for the sole purpose of showing his utter incapacity to hold it.
Graham too soon discovered the impracticability of such a colleague, who some-
times unreasonably hung back, and at other times drove on, as if the French
were already defeated and in full flight. So inexplicable, indeed, were his
movements, that the British officers suspected that treachery had been ingrafted
upon his natural stupidity and obstinacJ^ At length the combined but ill-
assorted army reached the memorable heights of Barossa, upon Avhich Victor
sallied from his lines to give them battle. Even at that critical moment La
Pena must needs blunder, by requiring Graham to alter his excellent position
from the heights to the wood of Bermeya, towards the sea-coast ; and when the
latter, in compliance, commenced the movement. La Pena immediately followed,
thus leaving the ridge of Barossa, the key of the army's position, undefended,
Victor, who saw this change witli astonishment, instantl}^ moved his force of
9000 French veterans and fourteen guns to take possession of the heights. They
advanced to the onsets and meeting with some of the Spanish troops who had
not yet left the hill, they attacked and routed them in an instant. The fugi-
tives directed their headlong flight to the British division, already in motion
among the difficulties of the wood, and reported that the heights were won, and
the enemy at their heels. Justly might Graham at this moment have left his
worse than useless allies to their fate, and thought only of a retreat. But this
neither suited his daring spirit nor warm-hearted generosity. With his own
forces, upon Avhich he could fully rely, he resolved to give battle to the enemy,
notwithstanding the advantages of their new position, and the suddenness of
V. 2 I

250 THOMAS GRAHAM (LonD Lynedoch),

the emergency. His artillery, consisting of ten guns, was instantly wheeled
round, and opened upon the enemy, alread^^ descending from the hill ; while
his infantry, hastily formed into two columns, was led to the charge. Under
these untoward circumstances was commenced the battle of Barossa.

It is not our purpose to enter into the minute particulars of this conflict,
forming, as it did, only an episode of the war. The double onset of the British
lines was made with the utmost bravery, and met by the French with equal
courage, so that for some time the hot and heady charges that were given
and received on either side kept the battle in suspense over the whole field.
At length a gallant charge of one of these lines, composed of the 87th and
28th regiments, broke the division of General Laval, that was opposed to it,
and drove it back so successfully that they were unable to rally ; while the
capture of two guns and an eagle attested the success of the victors. The other
British column, under General Dilkes, was equally brave and equally fortunate.
This division, composed of the Guards and two regiments, mounted the brow
of the hill, and was met half-way by the columns of General Ruffin. A des-
perate struggle ensued, that ended in the French being driven up to the height,
and afterwards down the slope on the opposite side, with great slaughter. It
was in vain that they rallied with their wonted promptitude, and united
their two discomfited divisions into a single compact body, for the purpose of
abiding a new conflict : as fast as they formed, the v/ell-served British artillery
tore their ranks, the 200 German horse in the British service followed the can-
nonade with a decisive charge, and at last the enemy yielded, with the loss of
six guns and more than 2000 killed and wounded. And now Cadiz might have
been saved had La Pena been true to his country. But this miserable imbecile,
or traitor, or both, with his army of fully 13,000 Spaniards, looked on and did
nothing ; while Graham, with his small force of 4000 infantry and 200 cavalry,
bore the whole brunt of the battle, and achieved a glorious victory. Even when
the French were put to flight, had La Pena let loose upon them his 800 dragoons
and powerful horse artillery, he might have completed the defeat of the enemy
without their chance of rallying. But as it was, Victor fell back upon his old
position undisturbed, and the return of Soult, which occurred soon afterwards,
made the battle of Barossa useless, except as a stirring incentive to the British
during the rest of the campaign. Thus had the Spaniards served Moore, and
Wellington himself, as well as Graham ; let their generous allies fight as bravely
as they pleased, they still in every case refused to co-operate, or even did their
best to make the services of their defenders useless. Was it Spanish pride, that
could endure no glory but its own ; or Spanish bigotry, that would not suff'er
a heretic general to be victorious 1 In the meantime. General Graham, unable
to follow up his success, or even to maintain his ground single-handed, was
obliged to return to the Isle of St. Leon. But this retrograde movement, which
he made after victory, as well as his advance before it, were equally commended
by Wellington, who was too well able, from his own experience in Spain, to
judge of the necessity of such seemingl}^ inconsistent changes. The affair of
Barossa was also justly appreciated by Parliament, so that the thanks of both
houses were voted to the general and his gallant companions in arms. In the
reply of the veteran on this occasion, after stating his high estimation of the
honour conferred on him, he added : " I have formerly often heard you. Sir,
eloquently and impressively deliver the thanks of the house to officers present,
and never without an anxious wish that I might one day receive this most

THOMAS GRAHAM (Lokd Lynedocii). 251

enviable mark of my country's regard. This honest ambition is now fully
gratified, and I am more than ever bound to try to merit the good opinion of
the house."

Having been relieved from his military duties at Cadiz in the summer of
181], General Graliam joined the army under the Duke of Wellington, where
he was appointed second in command. But a complaint in his eyes, by the use
of a telescope in the glaring atmosphere of Spain, and frequent writing by
candle-light, obliged him to quit the army while it was employed in the siege
of Ciudad Rodrigo. He returned to England, where he obtained a cure, after
which he rejoined the British forces in the Peninsula, and commanded the left
wing at the battle of Vittoria. His able services during this conflict were
honourably mentioned in the despatch of Wellington on the occasion. After
this he continued to share in the subsequent movements of the campaign, and
commanded at the siege of St. Sebastian, where he obtained possession both of
the town and castle — the former by capitulation, and the latter by storm. He
also commanded the left wing of the British army when it crossed the Bidassoa
into the territor}^ of France, upon which he succeeded in obtaining a footing
after a desperate resistance. In the following j-.ear (1814) he v/as appointed
commander of the British forces in Holland, where he made an unsuccessful
siege of Bergen- op-Zoom. It was no wonder that he should have failed against
a fortress so strong, and so bravely and skilfully defended. Sir Thomas Graham
had already shov^n that he was a brave, prompt, and effective soldier, fitted for
all the emergencies of an open field, and able to win a decisive victory, even
under untoward circumstances. But he had not learned war as a science ; and
to conduct such a siege would have required a thorough acquaintanceship with
the whole mathematics of military service. It was only by such men as Bona-
parte or Wellington that Mantua could have been reduced to a surrender, or
Badajoz taken by storm. His failure at Bergen-op-Zoom, however, neither
detracted from the estimation in which he was held, nor the public honours
that awaited him ; and in May, 1814, after having received the thanks of Par-
liament, he was raised to the peerage by the title of Baron L3aiedoch, of Bal-
gowan, in. Perthshire, with a pension of £2000. He had previously'', during his
course of service, been created a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath?
and afterwards a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of St. J*! ichael and St. George.
He was also a Knight of the Tower and Sword in Portugal. But the return of
peace also brought with it an honour of an exclusively peaceful character ; this
was the Lord Rectorship of the University of Glasgow, which was conferred
in full senate, by the votes of the enthusiastic students, upon the chivalrous
victor of Barossa.

The course of Lord Lynedoch's life was now one of unobtrusive tranquillity'.
He had sought nothing more than forgetfulness amidst the din of war, and
found in it rank and fame. In 1821, he received the full rank of general; in
1826, he was removed to the colonelcy of the 14th Foot; and in 1829, he was
appointed governor of Dumbarton Castle, an office with a salary of only £170
attached to it, but still it has always heen accounted of high honour in our
country. " Sir William Wallace," said the valet of the Duke of A-rgyle, "was
governor of it in the old wars of the English, and his grace is governor just
now. It is alwaj^s intrusted to the best man in Scotland."

The latter part of the life of Lord Lynedoch, as the infirmities of old age grew
upon him, was spent chiefly in Italy ; but the visit of her Majesty Queen

252 ^JRS. GRANT OJ^^ LAGGAN.

Victoria to his native country so roused tlie ardour of the loyal old hero, that
lie hastened from Switzerland to pay his respects to her in person, in the ancient
capital of her Scottish ancestors. This was the last public event of his life. He
died at his residence in Stratton Street, London, on the 18th of December, ISi-?,
in the ninety-fourth year of his age. As he -was childless, his titles became ex-
tinct with his death, and his estates were inherited by his nephew.

GRANT, Mrs., of Laggan. — This amiable and talented authoress, in whom
a manly intellect was so happily blended with woman's gentleness and delicate
feeling, was born at Glasgow, on the 21st of February, 1755. Her father, Duncan
M'Vicar, was an officer in the British army ; her mother was a descendant of
the ancient family of Stewart of Invernahyle, in Argyleshire. A short time
after she was born, her father accompanied his regiment to America, with the
intention of settling there ; and soon after this was effected, he was joined by
his wife and infant daughter, the latter being scarcely three years old. As New
York, the place of her residence, was at this time thinly peopled, especially in
the rural districts, where the settlers dwelt miles apart from each other, the
early opportunities of education which JMrs. Grant possessed were such as to
furnish little hope of future literary excellence. But, happily for her, she had
a careful instructor in her mother, besides whom she had no other; and she so
profited by domestic tuition, that she quickly learned to read, and before her
sixth year was finished had perused the whole of the Old Testament, and w\a3
Avell acquainted with its contents. It was the home teaching of Scotland at this
period, transplanted into the back settlements of America. She also acquired
about the same time a knowledge of the Dutch language, in consequence of re-
siding for some months with a family of Dutch colonists. Not long after, she
learned to write, solely from chance lessons which she received in penmanship
from the sergeant of a Scottish regiment. Observing also the eagerness of his
pupil for knowledge, he presented her with an appropriate Scottish soldier's
gift — even the poem of "■ Wallace," by Blind Harry, the patriotic Homer of
Scotland. The quaint and almost forgotten language in which this work is
written, as well as its obsolete orthography, would have made it a sealed book
to the half-Scottish half-American little maiden, had it not been for the kind-
ness of the sergeant, who taught her to decipher the words, and understand the
meaning of the old heroic minstrel. From this source she mainly derived that
enthusiastic love of her native country which, ever afterwards, was a distinguish-
ing feature in her character. Another epic, which had a still higher influence
in the formation of her mind, followed. This was Milton's " Paradise Lost,"
which she received from an officer in her father's regiment, who marked her love
of reading ; and this sublime production, which has daunted so many youthful
readers at the outset, she studied with eagerness and pleasure. The expansion
of intellect and improvement of taste which the careful perusal of the great
English bard imparted to her conversation were so conspicuous, that the most
distinguished of the New York society, young though she was, were proud to
cultivate her acquaintance. The chief of these was Madame Schuyler, a lady
with whose excellence and worth she afterwards made the British public sym-
pathize, in her "Memoirs of an American Lady."

We have already mentioned that Mr. M' Vicar, the ftither of Mrs. Grant, Iiad
repaired to America chiefly for the purpose of becoming a settler in one of its
colonies. This he effected in the state of Vermont, where he received a grant
of land, to which he made large additions by purchase, while his worth and

MRS. GRANT OF LAGGAN.

ingratiating manners secured him the esteem not only of the settlers, but the
native Indian tribes. But this career of prosperity was interrupted Ijy ill health,
so that he -vvas obliged to return to his native country in 17C8, bringing with
him his wife and daughter, the latter having now reached the age of thirteen.
A few years after, Mr. M'Vicar was appointed barrack-master of Fort Augustus.
Unfortunately for him, he had been obliged to leave America in such haste as
to have no opportunity to dispose of his property ; and on the breaking out of
the American war, the whole was confiscated by the new republican government,
so tliat he was reduced to his limited pay of barrack master. At the same
station of Fort Augustus ^vas the Rev. James Grant, the military chaplain, an
accomplished scholar of amiable manners, and connected with some of the most
respectable families of the district, between Avhom and Miss M'Vicar an
accjuaintanceship, of kindred disposition, ripened into permanent affection.
Soon afterwards they were married, in consequence of the appointment of Mv.
Grant, in 1779, to the parish of Laggan, in Inverness shire, a union from which
the subject of our memoir received her literary name and designation.

On becoming the wife of a Highland minister, IMrs. Grant addressed herself in
good earnest to become useful among the people of the parish. But a difficulty
opposed her progi'ess at the outset. Although a Mac, she was not a Iliglilander ;
and she was ignorant of Gaelic, that most essential of passports to a High-
land heart. Undeterred, however, by an obstacle whicli few Lowlanders have
ever surmounted, she commenced the study of that most difficult of all languages,
and made such progress, that she was soon able to converse readily with the
people in their own beloved tongue. In tlie woods of America she had been
early trained to the labour of such a necessary task, by mastering the old Saxon
Scotch of Blind Harry's " Wallace." Along with the Celtic language she
studied the manners and feelings of the Highlanders, and was soon able to
identify herself with the people among whom her lot had been cast. They, on
their part, appreciated these kind labours of a stranger with true Highland en-
thusiasm, and felt that slie was their own countrywoman iti heart and soul, as
Avell as in tongue and lineage. In this way tranquil years passed on in Laggan,
and I\Irs. Grant, the mother of twelve children, seemed little likely to commence
a new life as an authoresS;, and obtain distinction in the literary world. But
such was her loeird, and stern misfortune and necessity were to be the in-
struments of its accomplishment. After four successive deaths in her family,
her husband died, and she was left a helpless widow, v.ith eight children de-
pendent upon her exertions, while the manse, so long her happy home, must be
left to the successor of her husband. In taking account also of her worldly
affairs, she found that she was worth less than nothing ; for the scale of High-
land and clerical hospitality by which her household had hitherto been regulated,
rather exceeded than equalled the amount of stipend, so that she found herself
somewhat, though not greatly, in debt. But strong in her trust on tliat Pro-
vidence which had been with her from earliest infancy, she confronted her new
necessities, and her first step vras to take charge of a small farm in the neigh-
bourhood of Laggan. This expedient soon failed, and in 1803 she removed to
the neighbourhood of Stirling. Something was ne^ssary to be done, and that
speedily ; but the great difficulty lay in the choice. At last the friends of Mrs.
Grant suggested the idea of authorship. Slie had written many verses which
tliey had greatly admired in manuscript, and these, collected into a printed
volume, might be equally acceptable to the public at lavge. Her poems, indeed,

254: MRS. GRiNT OF LAGGAN.

had been hasty productions, of which she had hitherto made little account, and
it was v>'ith no little urgency that she Avas persuaded to try. the experiment of
publisliing. She had not even a collection of these poems in her possession,
as she generally sent them to her numerous correspondents, without retaining a
copy for herself. The work was announced to be published by subscription,
and so well did her friends exert themselves, that three thousand subscribers
were soon procured. This publication, which appeared in 1803, although
favourably received by the public, was scarcely calculated to make any lasting-
impression, or stamp the character of Mrs. Grant as a genuine poetess, and ac-
cordingly, it has loug ago disappeared from among tliose works of the period
which the present generation cares to read. Its profits, however, enabled her
to discharge those debts wliich had been contracted at Laggan, and which had
continued to weigh heavily upon her mind. But fresh domestic difficulties
occurred. Her eldest daughter had been sent to Bristol for the cure of a con-
sumptive complaint, which was attended with heavy expense; and one of her
sons, who had got an appointment to India, through the kindness of her friend,
Mr. Charles Grant, chairman of the India House, required the necessary outfit.
The success that attended the former attempt suggested a fresh trial of author-
ship, and Sirs. Grant was advised by her friends to collect and publish her let-
ters. These had been written in the manse of Laggan to her correspondents
over a course of years, and were so full of Highland scenery, character, and
legends, expressed in the happiest style of epistolary composition, that, even with
the omission of whatever was private or confidential, it was thought they
would form an acceptable work to the reading public. She allowed herself
to be persuaded, and the result was her best and most popular j)roduction,
the " Letters from the Mountains," which was published in 1806. This work
went through many editions, and was so justly appreciated among the talented
and influential men of the day, as to procure for her many distinguished
friends, among whom may be enumerated Sir William Grant, Master of the
Rolls, Sir William Farquhar, and Bishop Porteous. The only other works
which she subsequently published, were " Memoirs of an American Lady," and
"Essays on the Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland ;" and it is enough
to say, that they did not detract from the reputation she had already won. Her
productions are thus characterized by Sir Walter Scott, a judge well fitted to
estimate them: — " Her literary works, although composed amidst misfortune
and privation, are written at once with simplicity and force; and uniformly
bear the stamp of a virtuous and courageous mind, recommending to the reader
that patience and fortitude which the writer herself practised in such an emi-
nent degree. Her writings, deservedly popular in her own country, derive their
success from the happy manner in which, addressing tliemselves to the national
pride of the Scottish people, they breathe a spirit at once of patriotism, and
of that candour which renders patriotism unselfish and liberal. We have no
hesitation in attesting our belief that Mrs. Grant's writings have produced a
strong and salutary effect upon her countr^'men, who not only found recorded
in them much of national history and antiquities, which would otherwise have
been forgotten, but found t^m combined with the soundest and the best les-
sons of virtue and morality."

In 1810, Mrs. Grant removed from Stirling to Edinburgh, where she resided
during the rest of her life. But still domestic calamities pursued her, and all
her children died successively, except her youngest son, who survived her. In

SIR WILLIAM GRANT.

the midst of these afflictions, so trying to the affectionate heart of a widowed
mother, it is gratifying to add that she was not wholly unaided in the struggle.
Her talents and her worth had surrounded her with a circle of affectionate
friends who, in the worst hour, were ready not only with sympathy but aid.
In 1825 an application was made in her behalf for a pension from government,
subscribed by Sir Waiter Scott, Francis Jeffrey, jMackenzie (the IMan of Feel-
ing), Sir William Arbuthnot, Sir Robert Liston, and Principal Baird, which
was cordially granted by George IV. At first it amounted to only £50, but was
afterwards increased to £100 per annum ; and this, with several legacies from
deceased friends, enabled her to spend the last years of her life not only in com-
fort, but comparative affluence. But those for whose sake she most wished to
have obtained it, had one by one been snatched away ! She was also, at this
period, an invalid ; for, nearly seven years before the pension was obtained, she
had a fall in descending a stair, from the effects of which she was confined
almost wholly to her house during the rest of her life. But still she was re-
signed and even happy, and her frequent study of the Bible during her hours
of leisure, as well as her conversation with intimate friends, betokened the sure
foundation upon which her comfort was established. Thus she lived, honoured
and beloved, till the eighty-fourth year of her age, when a cold, that increased
into influenza, ended her days on the 7th of November, 1888, and her remains
were interred in the new cemetery of the parish church of St. Cuthbert's. Her
chief talent lay in conversation, in which she was unrivalled, and hence the
high fame she acquired among the literary circles of the day. That voice has
passed away of which her works were but an echo, and thus the works themselves
are now rated beneath their merits. Still, however, the " Letters from the
Mountains" will continue to attest the high talent of their writer, and be
perused with pleasure and profit.

GRANT, Sir William. — This able lawyer was a descendant of the Grants
of Beldornie, a sept of the parent clan. His father, originally'- a farmer, was
afterwards appointed collector of customs in the Isle of Man, an office which
he held till his death. His son William, the subject of this notice, was born at
Elchies, in Morayshire, in 1754, and was educated at the grammar-school of
Elgin, along with his younger brother, who afterwards became collector at
IMartinico. William did not forget, when he had attained distinction, the
place in which he had been trained, so that, thirty years afterwards, when the
school was to be rebuilt, he was one of its earliest contributors. His education
was completed at the old college of Aberdeen, In the choice of a profession,
which was that of law, he was directed by the advice of his uncle, a merchant,
who had been so successful in England, that he was enabled to purchase the
estate of Elchies, on which he had been born. After the usual course of study
at Aberdeen had been finished, William Grant went to London, and was entered
at Lincoln's Inn. At the age of twenty-five, although he had not yet been
called to the English bar, he was considered competent for colonial practice,
and was appointed attorney-general of Canada. In this new office his pro-
fessional talents soon brought him into universal esteem. He also showed that
he understood the adage of tarn Marti qiiam Mercurio; for on Quebec being-
besieged by the American army under Montgomery, the attorney-general became
a bold and active captain of volunteers, and continued to perform military duty
until the siege was ended. After this he continued to discharge his civil duties
for several years ; but finding the position of Canada too critical, as well as

2oG SIR ^YILLIAM Gl'iANT.

colonial practice too limited for his aspirations, he resigned his office of attor-
ney-general ; and on returning to London, he entered witli full ardour upon a
more favourable arena in the courts of Westminster, after having been commis-
sioned in 1787 to practise as an English barrister. His commencement, however,
was so unpropitious as to bring all his energy and resolution into full exercise,
and nerve them with double vigour; for however eminent he had been at the
bar of Quebec, he found himself an utter stranger in London, while his shy
retiring habits gave little promise that such a difficulty would be easily obviated.
Fortunately, one of those incidents occurred by which the reserve of modest
merit is often broken througli, and the possessor dragged out to the sphere
Avhich he ought to occupy. Mr. Grant, after having gone the circuit year after
year without obtaining a single brief, happened at length to be retained in some
appeals from the Court of Session in Scotland to the House of Lords. He dis-
charged liis duty so ably on this occasion, and evinced such legal talent and
force of reasoning, as to extort the highest approbation from the stern Lord
Chancellor Thurlow, a man by no means profuse in compliments. He eagerly
asked the name of the speaker; and having learned it, he said to a friend, ''Be
not surprised if that young man should one day occupy tliis seat." It is thought
that Grant might ultimately have fulfilled this prediction had he been willing
to encounter the responsible duties of the chancellorship. Thurlow's approba-
tion did not end in empty compliment ; he interested himself in the fortunes of
the talented but unbefriended stranger, and in consequence of his advice. Grant
left the practice of common law for that of equity, as being better fitted for
his studies and habits.

From this period his career was one of honour and success, and his first step
was a seat in parliament, having been returned for Shaftesbury at the general
election in 17130, On entering the House he made no attempt to attract notice
as a political orator; his forte rather lay in private consultations and commit-
tees, where his sagacity, good sense, and extensive knowledge, were seen and
appreciated by the most eminent of his colleagues. Of tliese especially was Mr.
Pitt, of whom he was a firm and effective supporter. On one occasion, in the
year 1791, his colonial ex[)erience was of great service to tlie premier. The
subject before the House for discussion was a new code of laws for the province
of Canada, and on this question he enforced the proposal of Pitt with such
incontrovertible arguments, drawn from his own knowledge and practice as
attorney-general of the colony, that even Fox was gratified, and all but con-
vinced. Another occasion on which Grant signalized himself in the House of
Commons occurred in the following year, when he defended the measures of tlio
ministry upon the subject of the Russian armament. At the beginning of 170-1
he was returned to parliament by the borough of Westminster, and at the same
time appointed solicitor-general to the Queen, and in 1796 he was chosen
knight in parliament for the county of Banff. In 1798 he was appointed
chief-justice of Chester, and in the year following he was made solicitor- general,
on which occasion he received the usual honour of knighthood. In 1801 he
was honoured with his last and highest promotion of master of the rolls. This
steady rise was owing, not to his support of the predominant party in the state,
but the high character which he established for himself as lawyer and judge, in
which all parties coincided. He continued to represent the county of Banff
until 1812, when the Parliament was dissolved, and to fill the office of master of
the rolls till 1817, at wliich period he was anxious to retire from public life

JAMES ALEXANDER HALDANE. 257

before age had unfitted him for its duties, or impaired his intellectual vigour.
On the 24th December, therefore, he fulfilled this resolution of self denial by
tendering his resignation of the mastership, on ^N'hich occasion he received,
among other well-deserved eulogiums, the following from the bar of the court,
through Sir Arthur Pigott, the speaker appointed for the occasion : — " The
promptitude and wisdom of your decisions have been as highly conducive to the
benefit of tlie suitors, as they have been eminently promotive of the general
administration of equity. In the performance of your important and arduous
duties, you have exhibited an uninterrupted equanimity, and displa^'ed a temper
never disturbed, and a patience never wearied ; you have evinced an uniform and
impartial attention to those engaged in the discharge of their professional duties
here, and who have had tlie opportunity, and enjoyed the advantage of observ-
ing that conduct in the dispensation of justice, which has been conspicuously
calculated to excite emulation, and to form an illustrious example for imitation."
During the sixteen years of life that were still continued to him, Sir William
Grant abstained from public affairs, devoting himself wholly to intellectual
recreations, and the society of congenial company, in the neighbourhood of
Walthamstow, and during the two last years of his life at Barton House, Daw-
lish, the residence of his sister, the widow of Admiral Schanck. He was never
married. His death occurred on the 25th of May, 1832, when he had reached
the age of seventy-eight years.

H.

HALDANE, James Alexander — It seldom happens that when a great
work is to be accomplished, in which co-operated effort is required, the same
family which produced the originator should also furnish the effectual seconder
of the movement. From this general rule the family of Haldane of Airthrey
is an honoured exception ; for while Robert was building churches over the
whole extent of Scotland, his younger brother, James, was ably preparing tlie
way by preaching in its most destitute localities, and reviving that religious
spirit which had sunk for years into cold apathy and indifference.

James Alexander Haldane was born at Dundee, on the 14th of July, 17G8,
within a fortnight after the death of his father. He also lost his mother when
he had only reached his sixth year. After attending the High School of Edin-
burgh with his brother, and distinguishing himself not only by holding a high
place in the class, but being foremost in every school-boy frolic and adventure,
he went to the university, which he attended for three years, until he had com-
pleted his studies in Latin and Greek, and gone through the curriculum of logic,
metaphysics, mathematics, and natural philosophy. Having thus established a
sufficient groundwork for future self-improvement, and made a tour tlirough
the north of England, he joined, at the age of seventeen, the service for whiclx
he had been early destined, by entering as midshipman the Duke of Montrose,
East Indiamau, bound to Bombay and China. This department of naval life
ranked high at a period when the monopoly of the East India Company, and
the risks of war, made their ships be manned and armed on a scale approaching
that of the royal navy. By a family compact it had also been agreed, that as
soon as he was qualified by age and service, he should succeed to the command

v. 2 K

258 JAMES ALEXANDER HALDANE.

of the Melville Castle, which had been provided with an interim captain, under
the prospect of this succession. This was a most unhopeful commencement of
the course that afterwards awaited him, but the alternatives that were proposed
against his going to sea were equally so. Ilis female relatives wished that he
should complete his studies, and take orders in the Churcli of England, in the
hope of attaining a bishopric ; while the great Cro2Sus of the day, Mr. Coutts,
the warm friend of Haldane's father, to wliom he had been greatly indebted,
offered to take the youth into his own counting-house as a partner, and make
him a thriving banker. Who would have thouglit that a youth with so many
tempting offers at the outset of life, would finally prefer to them all the lowly
office of an itinerant preacher !

On embarking upon his new profession, James Haldane devoted himself
earnestly to his duties, ambitious to become an active seaman and skilful navi-
gator. Besides tliis, his love of general literature, which his previous educa-
tion had imparted, made him spend all his leisure time in the study of the best
authors, of which he carried with him a vrell-stored sea-cliest, and in this way
he was unconsciously training himself to become an able theological writer and
eloquent preachei". He made in all four voyages to India and Cliiua; and
during the long period over which these extended, he saw much of the variety
of life, as well as experienced the usual amount of hair's-breadth escapes so
incidental to his profession. During his third voyage, in which he was third
officer of tlie Hillsborough, and v.-hile returning from India, he encountered
one of tliose dangers so frequently attendant upon the naval and military ser-
vice, and so unreasonable and contemptible in services so full of perils of their
own, because so utterly gratuitous. One of the passengers, a cavalry officer,
notorious as a quarrelsome bully and a good shot, picked a quarrel with James
Haldane, and at the mess-table threw a glass of wine in his face, which the
other retorted by throwing a decanter at the captain's head. A challenge was
inevitable, and Haldane was the more ready to receive it, as, from his antago-
nist's reputation as a duellist, a refusal might have looked like cowardice.
Such was that law of honour, now so generally abjured, which in a few years
more will evaporate amidst the general derision. No opportunity occurred
of a hostile meeting until the ship arrived at St. Helena, where the parties
went ashore early in the morning, to settle their quarrel by mortal arbitra-
ment. James Haldane who, the night before, had made his will, and written
a farewell letter to his brother, to be delivered in the event of his death, raised
his pistol at the signal, and inwardly ejaculating, with fearful inconsistency,
the solemn prayer, " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit," he drew
the trigger. The pistol burst, and one of the splinters wounded him in the
face, while his opponent, whose weapon at the same instant missed fire, declared
himself fully satisfied. Thus terminated the first and last affair of the kind in
which he ever was engaged. His amiable disposition, as well as his acknow-
ledged courage and spirit, alike prevented him afterwards from giving or receiv-
ing injury.

After his fourth voyage was completed, James Haldane, now at the age of
twenty-five, was found fully competent to assume the command of the Mel-
ville Castle ; and on passing his examinations he was promoted to that office in
1793. After his appointment, he married Miss Joass, only child of Major
Joass, fort-major of Stirling Castle, and niece of Sir Ralph Abercromby. As
his fortune was still to seek, while his bride was a young lady of great attrac-

JAMES ALEXANDER HALDANE. 250

tions aiid high prospects, some demur was made by her relatives to her mar-
riage with a younger brother; but the mutual affection of the pair at last recon-
ciled all parties to the measure. At the end of the year, the Melville Castle
was at Portsmouth ready for an Indian voyage, in company with a large fleet
of Indiamen lying at the same port, and Haldane, having parted with his wife
at London, had already joined his vessel, when delays occurred that prevented
its sailing till some months afterwards. While the fleet was thus lying at
anchor, a mutiny broke out in the Button, which grew to such a height that
the chief officers were obliged in terror to abandon the ship ; and the crew,
arming themselves with what weapons came to hand, tlireatened to sink every
boat that came alongside to board them, or at the worst to blow up the ship,
or carry it into a French port. In this state of wild uproar, Captain Haldane
threw himself into one of the boats of the Melville Castle, and approached the
Button, amidst the cries of " Keep off, or we'll sink you !" Undeterred by these
threats, he boarded the hostile deck, cutlass in hand, relieved the remaining
officers, who were about to be overpowered on the quarter-deck, and by his
prompt decided measures so appalled the mutineers, that they were soon brought
to a surrender. But while this was going on upon deck, a noise was heard
below, and on learning the cause, he rushed to the powder magazine, which
two men were about to enter, with a shovel-full of live coals, after having
wrenched off the doors, swearing that they would blow the ship to heaven or
hell, no matter which. He clapped a pistol to the breast of the most forward,
and compelled him to stand ; and ordered the crew to put the two offenders
instantly in irons, which was done almost as rapidly as it had been commanded.
The daring demeanour and prompt decision of the young captain of the Mel-
ville Castle so completely quelled the ship's company, and recalled their habits
of obedience, that the chief mutineers submitted, and order was restored.

By this time Haldane had acquired a high character in his profession. His
skill as a sailor, and his excellent qualities as an officer, had endeared him to
seamen and passengers alike; his courage in trying emergencies had been well
proved; while the political influence by which he was supported, not only
through his friends at home, but in India, where his wife's uncle, Sir Ralph
Abercromby, was commander-in-chief of the British army, insured him the
speedy attainment both of rank and fortune. Such a consummation was also ex-
pected of him as a duty, botii on the part of his wife's relatives and his own,
who saw no reason why he should sink, with all his prospects and attainments,
into the rank of an obscure bonnet laird, or idle country gentlen}an. And yet
he had even already resolved to abandon the sea, and all its alluring advantages !
The cause of this is to be traced to his early religious education, which had more
or less clung to him in his after-career, so that in all he had undergone and en-
joyed, as well as all that he hoped or feared, he had felt the contention of two
hostile elements within him — he had been a man divided against himself.
With an earnest longing that the spiritual should prevail, so that he might be
renewed and sanctified, he felt withal as if such an end could not be attained
in his present pursuits and occupations. But as this constituted the great
turning point of his life, it is right that we should hear his own account, which
he has given in his manuscript memoranda in the follov.-ing words: — "Some
circumstances which took place tended, before I left the sea, to render me more
circumspect ; yet was my heart still unchanged. I lived on board ship nearly
four months at Portsmouth, and having much spare time, and being always

2G0 JAMES ALEXANDER HALDANE.

fond of reading, I was employed in this way, and began, more from a conviction
of its propriety than any real concern about eternity, to read the Bible and
religious books, not only on tlie Sabbatli, but a portion of Sciipture every day.
I also began to pray to God, although almost entirely about the concerns of a
present world. During all this time I did not go on shore to public worship
above once or twice, tliough I could have done so, and heard the gospel with
the same form of worship (at Dr. Bogue's) as in Scotland. At length some
impressions seemed to be made on my mind that all was not right ; and knowing
that the Lord's supper Avas to be dispensed, I was desirous of being admitted,
and went and spoke with Dr. Bogue on the subject. He put some books into
my hand on the nature of the ordinance, which I read, and was more regular
in prayer and attending public worship. An idea of quitting tlie sea at this
time was suggested, apparently bj' accident, and literally so, except in so far as
ordered of God. The thought sunk into my mind, and although there were
manj^ olsstacles, my inclination rather increased than abated. Being now in
the habit of prayer, I asked of God to order matters so that it might be brought
about, and formed resolutions of amendment, in case my prayer should be
heard. Several circumstances occurred which seemed to cut off every hope of
my being able to get away before the fleet sailed ; yet the Lord overruled all to
farther the business about two days before it left England. A concern about
my soul had very little influence in this step ; j-et 1 was now determined to
begin to make religion a matter of serious consideration. I was sure I was not
right. I had never joined at the Lord's supper, being formerly restrained jiartly
by conscience, while living in open sin, and partly by want of convenient
opportunities, and I had been prevented by my engagements in the week of
quitting the sea from joining at Gosport, as I had proposed. However dark my
mind still was, I have no doubt but that God began a work of grace on my
soul while living on board the Melville Castle. His voice was indeed still and
small, but I would not despise the day of small things, nor undervalue the least
of His gracious dealings towards me. There is no doubt that I had sinned
against more light than many of my companions who have been cut off in their
iniquities, and that I might justly have been made a monument of his wrath.''
The result of these reasons may be easily surmised, enforced as they were by
the earnest entreaties of his brother Robert, who had also quitted the navy, and
was about to devote himself to that career of religious usefulness by which his
whole life was afterwards distinguished. James Haldane accordingly sold his
interest in the ]\Ielville Castle for a sum that insured him a decent independence
for life, bade adieu to the sea for ever, and, on rejoining his wife in Scotland,
and establishing a peaceful home in Edinburgh, he became a diligent student
in theology in the best sense of the terzn. It was in this way that both the
brothers qualified themselves for their appointed work. In their case it was
I'lom no sudden fit of enthusiasm that they devoted themselves to a career which
excited the wonderment of society, and that had to be persevered in through
much scorn and opposition for years; on the contrary, they were led to the
faith upon which they acted through a long course of inquiry ; and this being
attained, they were able deliberately to count the cost, and prepare themselves
for the sacrifice. In this spirit, while Robert was earnestly straining every nerve
to obtain the privilege of deportation and exile as a missionary, James was
qualifying himself for the equally humble and self-denying duties of an itine-
rant preacher. Had such instances occurred in the Romish Church, they would

JAMES ALEXANDER HALDANE. 261

have been emblazoned as choice episodes in the Acta Sanctoncm, if not exalted
into full claims for canonization. The steps by which James Haldane was con-
ducted to the " highways and hedges," he has thus detailed in language of
straight-forward simplicity :— "For some time after I knew the truth I had no
thoughts towards the ministry. My attention was directed to the study of the
Scriptures and other religious books, for my own improvement, and because I
found much pleasure in them. When I first lived in my own house, I began
femily worship on Sabbath evenings. I was unwilling to have it more frequently,
lest I should meet with ridicule from my acquaintance. A conviction of duty
at length determined me to begin to have it every morning ; but I assembled
the family in a back room for some time, lest any one should come in. 1
gradually got over this fear of man ; and being desirous to instruct those who
lived in my family, I began to expound the Scriptures. I found this pleasant
and edifying to myself, and it has been one chief means by which the Lord
prepared me for speaking in public. About this time some of my friends
remarked that I would by and by become a preacher. A person asked me
whether I did not regret that I had not been a minister ? which made a consi-
derable impression on my mind. I began secretly to desire to be allowed to
preach the gospel, which I considered as the most important, as well as honour-
able employment. I began to ask of God to send me into his vineyard, and to
qualify me for the work." — While these wishes were thus forming and growing
within his heart, events were occurring to draw them into action. He first
confined himself to the silent distribution of tracts, and afterwards advanced to
the visitation and establishment of Sabbath schools, where a "word of exhorta-
tion " Avas expected as a matter of course ; and, finally, having accompanied
John Campbell (his brother's friend) and another preacher to the large collier
village of Gilmerton, where a preaching station had been established, he found
himself drawn, in the course of necessit}', to take his turn in that apostolic
labour which he had already thus far countenanced and commended. He
preached his first sermon on the 6th of May, 1797, and by that decisive act
committed himself to the vocation in which he persevered to the end of his
long- extended life.

After having continued to preach for a short time at Gilmerton, James Hal-
dane"s views extended over Scotland at large, so that he resolved to commence
the work of an itinerant preacher in good earnest. But an ambulatory ministry
and lay preaching — these are irregularities which only a very urgent emergency
can justify; and yet, perhaps, Scotland at this time needed them as much as
England did the labours of her Wesleys and Whitefield. James Haldane also went
forth, not as a minister, to dispense the higher ordinances of religion, but simply as
an evangelist, to call men to repentance. This his first tour, in 1797, extended
through the northern counties of Scotland and the Orkney Islands, and was
made in company with Mr. Aikman, originally settled in a prosperous business
in Jamaica, but now a student in theology, with the view of becoming a minis-
ter. They preached wherever they could find a place to assemble men together
— in school-rooms and hospitals, at market- crosses, and in church-yards, and
upon stair-heads — and assembled their auditories by announcing their purpose
through the town- drummer or bellman. In this way they itinerated through
Perth, Scone, Cupar, Glammis, Kcrrymuir, Montrose, and Aberdeen. At the
last-mentioned place Haldane had hearers in thousands, who were attracted by
the novelty of a captain of an East Indiaman turning preacher. The tourists

?62 JAMES ALEXANDER IIALDANE.

then proceeded to Banff, Elgin, Forres, Nairn, and Inverness ; and having
learned that a great fair was soon to be held at Kirkwall, to which people were
wont to assemble from every island of the Orkney's, they resolved to comprise
this Ultima Thule of the modern as well as the ancient world — this remote nook,
which even steam has as yet failed wholly to conquer — within the sphere of
their operations. And miserable indeed was the spiritual state of the Orkneys
at this time, where the ministers were so for removed be^'ond the ken of the
General Assembly, that they might live as they listed ; while the difficulties of
navigation in the performance of their duties were so numerous, that they might
leave as much undone as they pleased. Here, then, Avas the field for a devoted
Christian, earnest in his sacred work, and fearless of wind and weather ; and
from Kirkwall, as his head-quarters, the bold sailor was ready to scud before the
wind in an open boat, to preach the gospel at whatever island might most require
his services. In some of these desolate places there had been no religious ordi-
nances for several years ; while in Kirkwall, where he and his fellow-traveller
preached daily during the foir, they had congregations by the thousand. It
was the old Scottish spirit of the days of Knox and the Covenant revived among
a people who had long and most unjustly been neglected. After having thus
visited the twenty-nine inhabited islands of Orkney', and sometimes preached
three times a-day in their several places of labour, the tourists, in their return,
crossed over to Caithness, and began to preach in its principal town of Thurso
On this occasion Mr. Haldane laboured alone, his companion having been dis
abled by an accident during six weeks of their stay in Caithness, and there his
usual auditory numbered from 800 to 8000 persons. The next scene of his
labours was the town of Wick, and here his auditories were equally large, and
his labours as abundant. A note from his journal of proceedings in this place
is applicable to many others which he visited in the course of his tour, and
shows the necessity that was laid upon him to labour as he did. It is as follows : —

" Lord's-day, October 1. — Preached in the morning to about 2500 people.
Heard the minister, in the forenoon, preach from Matt. xxii. 5 : ' And they
made light of it.' He represented that men, in becoming Christians, first began
to work out their own salvation, and that when God wrought in them, &c.
He spoke much of the criminality of such as found fault with ministers, ' who
were,' he said, ' the successors of the apostles— the ambassadors appointed to
carry on the treaty of peace between God and man !' In the afternoon preached
to about 4000 people, and took notice of what appeared contrary' to the gospel
in the minister's sermon, himself being present."

On the 11th of October, 1797, Mr. James Haldane left Wick, the very day
on which his uncle. Admiral Duncan, gained the celebrated naval victory off
Camperdown, and the firing of the guns was heard upon the coast of Caithness,
while the nephew of the conqueror was preaching his farewell discourse in the
market town. On his return from this evangelistic tour, Mr. Haldane preached
at the different towns of his long route until he reached Airthrey, on the 7th
November, having been employed nearly four months in this important mis-
sion, and undergone an amount of labour which only an iron constitution, ani-
mated by the highest sense of duty, could have endured. Although he preached
almost daily two, and sometimes three times, he was no mere rhapsodist or
declairaer, but a studious, painstaking preacher, anxious to instruct as well as
persuade, and careful that the style of his message should correspond with its
dignity and importance. " I and several other ministers," thus writes the Rev,

JAMES ALEXANDER HALDANE. 2G3

Mr. Cowie, of Huntly, the Whitefield of the north, " heard Mi*. Haldane on his
late tour; and I confess, though I have been little short of thirty years a minister,
have heard many excellent preachers, and laid my hand on many heads, I have
very seldom heard anj^thing so much to my satisfaction, and nothing that could
exceed Mr. Haldane's discourses. I could even say more, but I forbear. He
carries his credentials ivitli him, and needs not recommendatory letters."

Tliis was but the first of a series of tours of a similar character, which v/ere
continued at intervals for years, not only in the north, south, and west of Scot-
land, but in England and Ireland, and which only ceased when tlie increase of
a faithful ministry, and the general revival of a religious spirit, superseded the
necessity of such itinerancy. They also abounded in striking incident, not only
of bold adventure and fierce hostility, but of wonderful conversions from darkness
and guilt to the light and holiness of a renewed life — cases by which the heart
of Haldane was animated in a career otherwise so thankless and profitless. But
these were only incidental advantages, compared with the influence of his labours
upon the general change that was now at hand. The public attention was
awakened to those great principles of religion which had been rapidly passing
away, and the progress of that apathetic Socinianism arrested, which, in course
of time, would have converted Scotland into a wholesale Geneva of religious
doubt and indifference. Hume was already taking the place of Knox, while
the theology of the pulpit was little more than the morality of Seneca without
its depth, or the vague aspirations of Plato without their earnest, heart-stirring
eloquence. And was it a small matter that Haldane should have been so influ-
ential in checking that downward progress which would have terminated in
national degradation and destruction, and bringing back the spirit of the land
to that Rock of strength from which it had so mournfully wandered ?

While Mr, James Haldane was thus pursuing his course as an itinerating
and lay preacher, events soon occurred by which the office of an ordained
minister, and the superintendence of a regular congregation, were added to his
employments. His brother Robert, after having failed in his attempt to esta-
blish a great Indian mission, was now employed in the opening of tabernacles
and the extension of evangelical religion at home. It was natural that in
such a work he should seek the able co-operation of his brother, and that, too,
at Edinburgh, the metropolis and head-quarters of the new movement. The
circus or tabernacle, a large place of worship capable of holding 2500 hearers,
had been opened for this purpose, and on the 3d of February, 1799, Mr. James
Haldane was ordained as its minister. It was opened upon those eclectic prin-
ciples which Independency has constantly advocated ; and the following extract
from the account of Mr. J. Haldane's ordination will fully explain his views
and purposes on entering into the solemn office. He " expressed his intention
of endeavouring to procure a regular rotation of ministers to assist h!ra in sup-
plying the tabernacle. He declared his willingness to open his pulpit for the
occasional labours of every faithful preacher of the gospel, of whatever denomi-
nation or country he might be. He signified his approbation of the plan of the
church which had chosen him for their pastor, as being simple and scriptural,
hut disavowed any confidence in it as a perfect model of a church of Christ,
to the exclusion of all others. He wished to remember himself, and ever
to remind his heavers, that the kingdom of heaven was not meat and drink,
but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. Finally, he declared
that he meant not to confine his exertions to that church, but to devote a por-

264 JAMES ALEXANDER IIALDANE.

tion of his time every year to the labours of itinerancy, to which he conceived
himself, in the providence of God, to be especially called." lie thus became the
jfirst minister of the first church formed among the new Congregationalist
churches of Scotland — which, however needed at the time of their appoint-
ment, are now passing, and will soon pass away. A firmer Presbyterianism
than before seems the inevitable result of every Scottish religious revival.

According to the promise made at his ordination, ]\Ir. J. Haldane devoted a
large portion of every summer to an extensive missionary tour. This continued
till 1805, when the increase of his congregation in Edinburgh, as well as the
renewed spirit of the public mind over the country, made such arduous exer-
tions the less imperative. He still continued afterwards, however, to make
short trips to those portions of the Highlands, and the north and west of Scot-
land, that were as yet the least accessible to the change ; and wherever he came,
liis stirring eloquence was calculated to rouse the attention and win the hearts
of those who listened. Few, indeed, were so well qualified to redeem the office
of an itinerant preacher from the obloquy and contempt into which it had
fallen ; for, independently of his stalwart figure, and bold, dignified, gentlemanly
bearing, that commanded the respect of every class, his station in society gave
him weight among a people where the old feudal feelings were still a part of
the national characteristics. What but love for their souls could induce such a
one to undergo labours and hardships which even the love of gain could scarcely
inspire among the poorest, and from which the stoutest would have recoiled ?
And was this worthy descendant of the good old barons of Scotland to bo treated
like a gaberlunzie preaching for pence, and looking to his hat or plate more
carefully than to his text? " Captain Haldane is to preach" — "the son of the
Laird of Airthrey is to give a sermon" — and the stair-head or hillock upon
which the sermon was delivered, instead of lowering, only aggrandized the dis-
course. But who in Scotland so circumstanced, except himself and his brother,
would have submitted to such a trying experiment?

The rest of the life of James Haldane, as an Edinburgh Dissenting minister,
although it passed over such a course of years, may be briefly summed up. It
was an occupation with which, however important in its bearing upon national
character and events, the trumpet of fame or the pen of the historian is seldom
troubled. When the whole world rings with some heroic and virtuous achieve-
ment, by which a Christian nation creates an important epoch, how seldom is
it traced to that lowly and silent ministry in which it truly originated!

The first important event that occurred in Mr. Haldane's life as the minister
of a settled charge, arose from the divisions in that party of which he was so
important a member. While a religious body is small,with the whole world
arrayed against it, there is neither time for discord nor motive for division,
and in this very feebleness its strength mainly consists. But with its expansion
grows security', which promotes dissension, until it falls asunder by its own
weight. This dissension had now commenced among the Independent congre-
gations of Scotland, and it was based upon the trying questions of ecclesiastical
polity and discipline. It was agreed on all hands that the apostolic model was
the only authoritative rule : but what was that model? Here every one had his
own theory or interpretation. The frequency with which the Lord's supper
should be administered, the mode of conducting their weekly fellowship meet-
ings for social worship, and the amount of pastoral duty that might be conceded
to gifted la^' members in exhorting the church and conducting the public devo-

JAMES ALEXANDER IIALDANE. 265

tions, were all severally and keenly contested as matters oF religious, and there-
fore of infinite importance. To these, also, was added the question of Pado-
Laptisni, in which Mr. James Haldane himself was personally and deeply
interested. He had been anxiously studying the subject for several j^ears, and
after some time he announced to his flock, that " although his mind was not
made up to become himself a Baptist, yet that at present he could not con-
scientiously baptize children." His mind was made up at last : he was bap-
tized ; but still his wish was that the difference of opinion should be no ground
of disunion between Baptists and Paedobaptists. This, however, was too much
to expect from any sect or class of Christians in the present state of human
nature, and accordingly a disruption ensued in his congregation, of whom
nearly two-thirds went away, some to the ^Establishment, and others to the two
tabernacles in College Street and Niddry Street. By this change, also, the two
Haldanes ceased to be the leaders of a sect which their labours had originated
in Scotland, and their resources hitherto supported. As for James, he now
ministered to a very limited congregation, and with diminished popularity, but
his elevated generous heart could endure the change as far as it only affected
himself. He saw that the good which he had sought to accomplish Avas in
progress under other agencies ; and he was content to be nothing, and less than
nothing, if the gospel itself should become all in all.

In this way the days and years of James Haldane's life went onward. He
regularly officiated to his own Edinburgh congregation, preached occasionally
in the open air in its neighbourhood, and diversified his duties by journeys of
similar usefulness to greater distances. He published several tracts upon the
most important religious doctrines, which were widely circulated, and attended,
it is believed, with much usefulness. He was also engaged as a controversialist,
in which capacity he published a "Refutation of the Heretical Doctrine promul-
gated by the Rev. Edward Irving, respecting the Person and Atonement of the
Lord Jesus Chi-ist ;" and when Mr. 11. Drummond came to the rescue of his
pastor, with his " Candid Examination of the Controversy between Messrs.
Irving, Andrew Thomson, and James Ilaldane," the last replied with a volume
of 277 pages. But controversy was not his congenial element, and Dr. Johnson
would have rejected him because he was not a good hater. " I see many evils,"
he thus writes in a letter, "both at home and abroad, which I hope the Lord
will correct ; but I do not see anything which I can do, unless it be to live near
to God, and to preach his gospel where I am placed in the course of his provi-
dence." In 1831 he published " Observations on Universal Pardon, the Ex-
tent of the Atonement, and Personal Assurance of Salvation." The next ini-
portant event that occurred in his course was the decease of his brother Robert,
whose death-bed he attended, and whose triumphant end he witnessed ; and it
was during the closing hours of his life that the dying man spoke affectionately
to his wife of the great benefit he had derived from the sermons and publica-
tions of his brother James, from which, he said, he had derived more solid edifi-
cation than from any others. He also spoke with fond affection of the complete
harmony of mind and purpose that had subsisted between them from the
beginning. It seemed as if!, in the course of nature, the death of James Haldane
must speedily follow, for he was now seventy-four years old, and had already
outlived many of his early associates. But his term was extended eight j-ears
longer, and they were 3^ears not of inert senility, but active diligent exertion.
In 1842 he published a treatise entitled " jMau's Responsibility : the Nature

26G ROBERT IIALDANE.

and Extent of the Atonement, and the work of the Holy Spirit ; in reply to
Mr. Howai-d Hinton and the Baptist Midland Association." In 1848 he re-
appeared as an author, by publishing an " Exposition of the Epistle to the
Galatians." Between these he also published two tracts on the important
subject of the Atonement. Until he had nearly reached the age of fourscores
he was wont also, in addition to these labours, to conduct three public services
every Sabbath. In 1849, having completed the fiftieth year of his ministry,
his flock and the Congregationalists of Edinburgh agreed to celebrate the event
by a jubilee, which they did on the 12th of April; and the meeting was attended
by ministers of all denominations, who were thus eager to testify their love for
such a venerable father in Israel. After this his life and labours were con-
tinued till 1851, when both were terminated on the 8th of February, in the
eighty-third year of his age. His last illness was gentle and brief, and his death
the death of the righteous.

HALDANE, Robert. — The family'- of Haldane had, for many centuries, been
possessors of the barony of Gleneagles, in Perthshire, and were connected with
some of the noblest houses of Scotland. As their name implies, they were of
a Norse rather than Anglo-Saxon origin, and had probably emigrated from the
Danelagh of England at, or soon after, the period of Alfred. Of the representa-
tives of this family (Captain James Haldane of Airthrey, and Katherine Duncan,
his wife and first cousin) were born two sons, Robert and James, the subjects oi
this and the previous notice, and a daughter, who died in childhood. Robert
Haldane, the eldest of the family, was born, not in Scotland, but in London, on
the 28th of Februar}"-, 17G4 ; but while still an infant, he became a resident in
his ancestral country of Scotland, where his father died, in 17G8. His widowed
mother, the daughter of Alexander Duncan of Lundie, and sister of the illus-
trious hero of Camperdown, was eminent not only for gentleness and maternal
affection, but ardent piety; and her religious instructions to her fatherless
children, as well as fervent prayers in their behalf, were long after remembered
by the objects of her pious cares. Never, indeed, is religious instruction so im-
pressive, or perhaps so effectual, as when it issues from the lips of an affection-
ate mother to the child who is listening at her knee, and avIio will remember
her words, let him wander where he ma}', or strive against them as he will.
But brief was the period of her widowed life, for she died in 1774, when Robert
had only reached his tenth, and James his fifth year, and the orphans were con-
signed to the guardianship of their relatives, by whom their education was
carefully superintended. And that they were willing to learn was attested
by the following incident. Having been instructed by their tutor in the myste-
ries of the ancient battering-ram, they resolved to try a practical experiment of
its effects, by dragging the carriage of their uncle, Admiral Duncan, to the
edge of a slope, down which it would rush by its own weight against a garden
wall at the bottom. The carriage was accordingly Vidieeled up, and let loose;
and the astonished admiral, who had been alarmed by the noise, came out only
in time to find the vehicle fairly lodged in the garden, and the wall as effectu-
ally breached as if one of his own broadsides had been discharged against it.

Having thus made some progress in Latin and Roman antiquities, the two
boys were sent to the High School of Edinburgh, where they were boarded
with Dr. Adam, its rector, and had for fellow-pupils, John Campbell and
Greville Ewing, the former the African traveller, and the latter the minister of
the Independent congregation in Glasgow, men with whose labours the Hal-

ROBERT HALDANE. 267

danes were, in after-life, to be intimately connected. When the time arrived
that they should choose a profession, the sea naturally presented itself, not only
from the high naval reputation of their uncle, but the circumstance of their
father having been captain of the Duke of Albany, East Indiaman, and on the
eve of being elected an East India director when his unexpected death oc-
curred. Besides this, their high family influence insured a rapid promotion,
whether in the royal service or that of the East India Company. Robert ac-
cordingly was destined to the former, and James to the latter ; and in 1780 the
family separation commenced, by Robert's joining the Monarch at Portsmouth
during that year. From this period we follow their respective careers.

On entering the naval service under such a commander as the future hero of
Camperdown, Robert Haldane, now at the age of seventeen, was not likely to
remain idle. After being a year in the Monarch, he was transferred to the
Foudroyant, eighty guns, commanded by Captain Jervis, afterwards Earl St.
Vincent, and was present at the memorable night engagement with the Pegase,
a French ship of fully greater force than the Foudroyant. In this battle,
which was hotly maintained for three-quarters of an hour, Robert Haldane
served his guns with the skill and coolness of a veteran, and in pointing them
in the dark he persevered in using a lantern, although he thereby served as a
mark for the enemy's rifles. His gallantry on this occasion obtained the ap-
probation of his brave commander, who sent him on board the Pegase to re-
ceive its surrender ; and on writing to Duncan, he congratulated him on the
conduct of his nephew, and predicted that he would become an ornament to
his country. On the return of the Foudroyant to Spithead, Robert Haldane
pent much of his time at Gosport ; and being there attracted by the ministry
of the Rev. Dr. Bogue, originally a Scottish Presbyterian, but afterwards the
pastor of an Independent congregation at Gosport, Robert Haldane not only had
those religious impressions revived which had been implanted by his mother,
but his bias directed in favour of Independency. At this time he also witnessed
the loss of the Royal George. He -vas looking at this noble ship through a
telescope, and watching with much interest the process of its heeling, when sud-
denly it overset and went down with 1200 men on board, of whom only 300
were saved. This terrible event was fitted to impress his heart both as a British
sailor and a Christian. The noblest vessel of our navy, with one of our best
admirals, had thus disappeared in one instant, when their services were most
needed. It had gone down in its own port, and amidst calm and sunshine,
bearing 900 souls into eternity without note or warning. It was a knell whose
echoes were heard for years after — and who can sum up the numbers who
are thus admonished to repenr, or warned to be in readiness? He who had
thus gazed upon the event, was not one by whom its solemn lessons were likely
to be disregarded.

The design of relieving Gibraltar, for which an expedition was sent out in
1782, under the command of Lord Howe, summoned Robert Haldane once more
into action. The garrison was relieved, and at the entrance of the British fleet
into Gibraltar the Foudroyant was the leading ship. On the return from the
Straits an indecisive engagement with the enemy took place, after which the
fleet reached Spithead unmolested. An incident occurred on the way that
showed Haldane's courage and self-devotedness in his profession. A Spanish
CO gun ship occasioned a chase among some of the British vessels, in which the
fast-sailing Foudroyant was foremost, as usual, with all her canvas spread, while

268 EGBERT HALDANE.

Haldane was ordered to the fore-top-gallant mast, to remain on the look-out
until he was recalled. In the meantime, in consequence of an order from Lord
Howe, the chase was abandoned, but Haldane was forgotten in the movement ;
the overstrained mast had sprung with the press of canvas, and he expected
every moment to be swept into the sea ; but still, faithful to tlie letter of his
orders, he would not abandon his post : his only chance of safety, which an old
seaman who was stationed beside him suggested, was to keep hold of the lower
part of the ropes, so that when carried into the sea they might still retain their
hold of the mast, with their heads above water. While their moments were
thus numbered, a sudden cry of " A man overboard ! " occasioned a rapid
shortening of sail ; the critical situation of Haldane and the sailor was then dis-
covered, and an instant order to descend relieved them from their peril. It was
an act of obedience such as Rome would have gladly enrolled in her- history.
On the Foudroyant being paid off at Spithead, Haldane was removed into the
Salisbury, of 50 guns, on which the broad pennant of his commander. Sir John
Jervis, was hoisted, as commodore of a squadron intended for the double purpose
of a voyage of discovery round the world, and an attack on the Spanish settle-
ments of South America. But the peace between Great Britain, France, and
Spain, in 1783, altered the destination of the Salisbury, so that she only made
a short voyage to Newfoundland. On her return to England, Robert Haldane,
finding no prospect either of active service or immediate promotion, resolved to
spend the rest of his days on shore. He accordingly resigned his commission •
and being as yet only twenty years old, he determined to complete the educa-
tion which had been interrupted three years before, when he went to sea. For
this purpose he once more became a student at the University of Edinburgh, of
which he had formerly been an alumnus ; and, after attending two seasons lie
made the grand tour, comprising the principal countries of Europe. After his
return he married, in 178G, Katherine Cochrane Oswald, daughter of Georp-e
Oswald, of Scotston, and settled down upon his patrimonial estate of Airthre^-,
resolving to devote himself to the life and occupations of a country gentleman.
Into this he now threw all his energies, and his taste in agricultural improve-
ments soon made him conspicuous among his compeers. Airthrey was possessed
of great natural capabilities, and these he so highly improved that his example
was speedily followed, and the surrounding country began to assume a new
aspect.

Thus passed the course of Robert Ilaldane's life for eight years, an even tenor
such as poets delight to picture and moralists to recommend. But higher and
holier duties awaited him than the transplanting of trees and improvement of
lawns and gardens ; and he was suddenly awoke from his innocent dream by an
event that shook the very pillars of the world, and roused the dullest to alarm
and inquiry. Who could sleep, or even muse, amidst the sudden and universal
reel of the French revolution? The laird of Airthrey saw in this event tho
annihilation of feudal rights, and the destruction of heritable charters ; but his
generous heart did not the less sympathize in the sufferings of a great nation,
and its Titan-like throes for deliverance, while he hoped that all this was but
the beginning of a happy political millennium, of which France was destined to
be the first-fruits. He did not at the time take into account tlie infidel princi-
ples upon which that revolution was based, and the utter insufficiency of such
principles to produce the results he anticipated. But teachers were at hand to
correct his views, and give a proper direction to his enthusiasm. In his own

ROBERT HALDANE. 2C9

account of this period of his life, he tells us : — " At this time I was in habits of
intimacy with some very worthy clergymen, residing at and in the neighbour-
hood of Stirling. They were acquainted with a principle I did not then admit,
and which, although a fundamental part of the creeds of tiie Established Churches,
both of England and Scotland, is not generally admitted — I mean the total cor-
ruption of human nature. Reasoning from their firm persuasion of this truth,
they assured me that such effects as I expected, unquestionably so desirable
in themselves, could not flow from any change of government, and that the
cruelties in France, then beginning to be exercised, were the natural effect of
certain circumstances in which the people of the country stood, and would, in
a greater or less degree, take place in any country in a similar situation." The
ultimate benefit of such discussions is given in the following summary of his
condition at this period : — " Before the French revolution, having nothing to
rouse my mind, I lived in the country, almost wholly engaged by country pur-
suits, little concerned about the general interests or happiness of mankind ; but
selfishly enjoying the blessings which God, in his providence, had so bounti-
fully poured upon me. As to religion, I contented myself with that general
profession which is so common and so worthless, and that form of godliness
which completely denies its power. I endeavoured to be decent, and what is
called moral ; but was ignorant of my lost state by nature, as well as of tha
strictness, purity, and extent of the Divine law. While I spoke of a Saviour, I
was little acquainted with his character, the value of his sufferings and death,
the need I stood in of the atoning efficacy of his pardoning blood, or of tha
imputation of his perfect obedience and meritorious righteousness, and of the
sanctifying influences of the Eternal Spirit, to apply his salvation to my soul.
When politics began to be talked of, I was led to consider everything anew. I
eagerly catched at them as a pleasing speculation. As a fleeting phantom, they
eluded my grasp ; but, missing the shadow, I caught the substance ; and while
obliged to abandon these confessedly empty and unsatisfactory pursuits, I obtained
in some measure the solid consolations of the gospel ; so that I may say, as Paul
concerning the Gentiles of old, ' lie was found of me who sought him not.'"

Having thus attained a vital knowledge of Divine truth, and prosecuted his
first perceptions by careful reading and inquiry, Robert Haldane was eager to
impart to others the knowledge he had learned and the blessings he had expe-
rienced. Such is the effect of the Christian life, especially when ingrafted upon
a naturally heroic temperament. It will neither sit down amidst the silence of
private life, nor withdraw itself to the solitude of the hermit's cell; not content
with its own salvation alone, it is impatient for the salvation of others also, so
that, while the patriot is ready to die for his country, the Christian is ready for
even more than this— like St. Paul, he could wish himself "accursed from
Christ for his brethren." Thus animated, he looked for a field of Christian
enterprise, and soon found it in India— that empire of a hundred realms, which
Britain has conquered, but still failed to christianize. The Baptist mission had
just previously been established there, and the account of its proceedings been
published; and Haldane, who read the first number of its periodical statements,
was impatient to enter such a field, and co-operate with the efforts of Carey and
his brethren. lie, too, like the poor English shoemaker, would become a mis-
sionary, and devote himself to a life of danger and toil in India. It was a
strange plan, but neither rashly adopted nor unwisely prosecuted. It was upon
a grand and comprehensive scale. With himself, Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Innes,

minister at Stirling, Mr. Bogue of Gosport, and Greville Ewing, at that time a
licentiate of tlie Church of Scotland, were to go out as missionaries. These
were to be accompanied by an efficient staff of catechists, cit^"- missionaries, and
schoolmasters ; and a printing-press, with its necessary establishment of printers
and bookbinders. The vrhole mission, thus completely equipped, was to be
conve3'ed to India, and, when there, to be salaried and supported entirely at the
expense of Mr. Haldane ; and, to provide a fund for the purpose, he was pre-
pared to bring to the hammer his rich and beautiful estate of Airthrey, for
which he had already done so much. Well might such a man say, as he did,
" Christianity is everything or nothing. If it be true, it warrants and com-
mands every sacrifice to promote its influence. If it be not, then let us lay
aside the hypocrisy of professing to believe it."

All being thus in readiness, it appeared as if nothing more was necessary than
that the mission should hoist sail and be gone. It was a great national under-
taking, of which our government should reap the fruits, and that, too, with
the unwonted advantage of having to pay nothing in return. Still, however,
permission had to be obtained from the directors of the East India Company
and the Board of Control, without which the mission would have been treated
as an unauthorized intrusion. It was not forgotten, also, that Carey had been
obliged to commence his labours, not in British India, from which he would
have been excluded, but in the Danish settlement of Serampore. But it Avas
thought that a better spirit, the result of a more matured experience, had
descended upon our Indian legislators; and that so extensive and liberal an
enterprise, superintended by one of Ilaldane's rank, character, and high con-
nections, would Ecarcel}^ be met by a refusal. Thus also hoped Robert Haldane,
and he applied accordingly, but was rejected. Politicians, who had not yet
recovered from their astonishment at the facilit}^ with which our Indian empire
of twenty millions of subjects had been won by a few British bayonets, and
who feared that such a sovereignty might be lost as rapidly as it had been
gained, could at present see no better mode of retaining their conquest than by
keeping the natives in profound ignorance. If Christianity was introduced,
the Hindoos would become as knowing as ourselves, and where, then, would be
our superiority 1 It was alleged, also, that an attack upon Brahminism, like that
which a Christian mission implied, would kindle such resentment through-
out the whole of Hindoostan, that instant revolt would ensue, and end in the
expulsion of the British from the country. To these political motives in behalf
of such a selfish forbearance, religious ones were also added. It was asserted
that Brahminism was a religion the best of all fitted for India; that it was a
mild, innocent, and virtuous system ; and that, by disturbing the faith of its
worshippers, we could at best only translate them from good, pious Hindoos,
into very questionable Christians. These motives prevailed, notwithstanding
the powerful influence with which Haldane's application was supported, and
the persevering urgency with which it was reiterated.

In this way was quenched one of the noblest and most comprehensive
schemes of Christian philanthropy that distinguished the religious history of
the eighteenth century. Of the proceedings of its originator, in consequence of
this heavy disappointment, he has himself given the following account : — " For
some time after this (1797) I did not lay aside my endeavours to go out to
Bengal; and, in the meanwhile, was busied in selling my estate, that there
might be no delay on my part, if obstructions from without should be removed.

ROBERT HALDANE. 271

I, accordingly, at length found a purchaser, and with great satisfaction left a
place, in the beautifying and improving of which my mind had once been much
engrossed. In that transaction I sincerely rejoice to this hour, although disap-
pointed in getting out to India. I gave up a place and a situation which con-
tinually presented objects calculated to excite and gratify ' the lust of the eye
and the pride of life.' Instead of being engaged in such poor matters, my time
is now more at my command ; and I find my power of applying property use-
fully very considerably increased," A man thus resolved and disencumbered
was not likely to remain long inactive ; and his new course of enterprise em-
braced such a variety of religious benevolence, that we can only bestow a glance
upon the objects ill which the men of the present generation found him toiling,
with unabated hopes and undiminished energy.

One of the first of these was the plan of christianizing Africa, through the
agency of its own children. That dark continent, hitherto so impervious to
Europeans, and its climate so noxious to all but its natives, presented insuper-
able obstacles to the zealous missionary as well as the enterprising explorer; so
that, to repair thither, was considered as a journey to that country

" From whose xuicliscovered bourao

No traveller returns."

In this difficulty, the idea had occurred to Mr. John Campbell, himself after-
wards a successful explorer of Africa, that native children brought to Bri-
tain, there educated in Christianity and the arts of civilization, and afterwards
returned to their homes, would prove the fittest missionaries and teachers of
their countrymen. It was a simple expedient, the soundness of which all our
subsequent experience has verified. But, with all its excellence, Campbell, at
that time nothing more than a poor tradesman in Edinburgh, could only pro-
pose it, for funds were wanting for its accomplishment. In 1798 he met with
Robert Haldane, to whom he mentioned his scheme; and the latter, struck wiili
its promising character, at once offered to defray the expense, which was calcu-
lated at from £6000 to £7000. Accordingl}^, twenty-four African children,
belonging to the families of different chiefs, were shipped at Sierra Leone, and
brought safely to London. Nothing now remained than that they should be
sent to Edinburgh, and placed under Mr. Haldane's care, who, in the anticipa-
tion of such an arrival, had leased the large old tenement in King's Park,
well known to tourists as the house of the Laird of Durabiedykes. But here,
unfortunately, a ground of refusal had occurred. Mr. Haldane, while he de-
frayed the whole expense of the experiment, was not to be intrusted with the
management and education of the children, which, on the contrary, was to be
l^laced under a London committee. He could not accede to proposals so unex-
pected, and made at the last hour, and he found himself constrained to withdraw
from the enterprise. It is gratifying to add, however, that the main purpose
was not abandoned, or the children neglected. After having received a religious
education, and been taught several handicraft professions, these youthful mis-
sionaries were, in due time, restored to their homes.

While this unpleasant affair was pending, and after it had terminated so
unsatisfactorily, Mr. Haldane was by no means idle in the work of Christian
benevolence ; and the disappointments he experienced, both in his Indian and
African efforts, seemed only to recal him with redoubled vigour into the field.
Among his labours may be mentioned his zealous dissemination of religious

272 ROBERT HALDANE.

tracts. In the present da}^ when publications of this kind descend like snow-
showers, and too often melt away as rapidly, such a mode of doing good has
come to be held in little account. But very different was the state of things at
the close of the last centur3% As yet the Tract Society had no existence, and
many can well recollect the "perilous stuff" which, under the name of "ballants,''
was plentiful in every cottage of Scotland, and constituted the principal reading
of the people, both young and old. And what kind of training did the youthful
mind receive from the " Exploits of John Cheap tlie Chapman," "Leper the
Tailor," and " Lothian Tom ?" It was much, indeed, that one man sliould
have set himself to stem such a tide, and this Mr. Haldane did. At his own
expense he caused useful religious tracts to be printed, and these he distributed
over the country in m^-riads. In this manner slim broadsheets insinuated their
way through every opening, and the attention of all classes was awakened to
doctrines which they were too seldom accustomed to hear from the pulpit. While
he thus anticipated the work of the Tract Society, he also forestalled that of the
British and Foreign Bible Societ}^ by a copious dissemination of the Scriptures
at his own expense. He formed, and aided in forming, Sabbath-schools, at that
time sorely needed in Scotland, in consequence of the new mercantile character
impressed upon it, through which children became sons and daughters of the
loom and the spinning-jenny, instead of the legitimate offspring of Christian
men and women. And wherever missionary work was to be undertaken,
whether at home or abroad, there his counsel and his purse were equall}-- open ;
and the Serampore translations of the Scriptures, for the use of India, were
benefited by his aid, at the same time that he was labouring for the circulation
of the gospel among the huts and cottages of his own native country.

But of all the attempts of Robert Haldane, that of the establishment of a new
church in Scotland was certainly the most remarkable. It was a daring, and at
first sight a superfluous attempt, in the land of John Knox and of Solemn
Leagues and Covenants. For was not Scotland already famed over Europe as
the most religious and most spiritually enlightened of all countries ? But this
was the reputation of a past age, upon which a spendthrift generation had now
entered, and which they were squandering away in handful?. At the close of
the last century Moderatism had attained its height, and alongside of philosophy
and metaphysics, these sciences so congenial to the Scottish national character,
infidelity and scepticism had kept equal pace ; so that, both in college and
church, the doubts of Hume and the doctrines of Socinus had well-nigh eradi-
cated all the visible landmarks of the national faith. Happily, however, for
Scotland, its creed, thus driven from both school and pulpit, found a shelter
among the homely dwellings of our peasantry ; and through the writings of such
men as Guthrie, Boston, and Willison, of our own country, and Bunyan, Flavel,
and Hervey, of England — all equally prized and carefully studied— the people
were in many cases wiser than all their teachers. Still, without further aid
these defences must have gone down, and the whole land been inundated with
the prevalent tide. Then, however, a few ministers were raised up, by whom
that aggressive warfare against the general evil was waged, whicli was finally
attended with such beneficial results ; and then also was Robert Haldane, a lay-
man, a man of rank, and therefore a disinterested witness, brought forward to
corroborate these clerical efforts, and give effectual aid in the coming revival.

The necessity of a faithfully-preached gospel was at that time peculiarly
urgent in Scotland, and here, therefore, it was that Haldane directed his chief

EGBERT IIALDANE. 273

eiuleavours. While the population had increased twofold, cluu'ch accommoda-
tion had in a great measure remained stationary; and even if additional churches
sliould be built, the diffitulty of supplying tliem with a proper ministry still
remained. There was as little hope at the time that Government would sup-
ply the former as the Church the latter deficienc}-, and thus the affair was
allowed to drift onward, let it finall}'- strand where it might. To build or hire
tliurclies was Mr, Haldane's first aim, and these were speedily set up in Edin-
burgh, Glasgow, Dundee, Perth, Thurso, Wick, and Elgin ; and to iurnis'i
them with an efficient ministry, eighty students were soon enrolled, under the
pastoral instruction of Dr. Bogue, Mr. Ewing, and Mr. Innes. His chapels,
or Tabernacles, as they were usually called, continued to multiply, so that by
the year 1805 nearly 200 preachers from Mr. Haldane's seminaries were labour-
ing as ministers and missionaries in Scotland, besides those who had gone to
America. When the result of all this devotedness is reduced to pounds, shil-
lings, and pence, it assumes the most tangible form to the eye and understanding:
we shall therefore simply state that, from 1798 to 1810, Mr. Haldane had
expended about £70,000 in his labours to propagate the gospel at home. And
be it remembered, too, that he was no mere philanthropic epicure, acting upon
random impulses, or imjiatient, through sheer laziness, to be rid of his money
as an incumbrance. Instead of this, he was as much alive to the enjoyments ot'
fortune as others — as conscious of the value of money, and as provident in
securing and expending it as the shrewdest trafficker could well be. But all
this he deliberately did at the solemn call of duty; toiling, calculating, and fore-
seeing at every step ; and bestowing these princely sums, that were never to
return to him, as considerately as if he had been speculating in the stocks, or
investing funds in some hopeful mercantile entei-prise. Never, perhaps, were
Christian liberality and Scottish cannicncss so admirably' combined, or so nobly
illustrated ; and it is upon this principle that we a to estimate the true worth
and the disinterested sacrifices of Robert Haldane.

The effects produced by these tabernacles were very soon apparent throughout
Scotland. Tiiey roused a spirit of inquiry ; and even when the feeling was
nothing more than that of alarm, it led to inquiry, of all feelings the one most
needful at such a crisis. The most neglected districts, the most secluded nooks
of our land, were soon pervaded with an itinerant or settled mission ; and com-
munities that had slumbered in hundreds of parishes under the drowsy influence
of Moderatism were shaken from their torpor, and raised into full activity. And
was Presbyterian Scotland in very deed to become Independent ? Happily for
the national character and its established habits, so great a violence was not to
be sustained ; and the public mind, once awakened, had its own beloved Presby-
rianism at hand, instead of that system of tabernacle church-government, which
it could not well comprehend. In this way Independency fulfilled its mission
in Scotland, and having accomplished this it silently retrograded, and left what
' remained for accomplishment to a more efficient, or at least a more popular and
congenial agency. At first, indeed, Haldane, in the establishment of these
chapels, had no idea of a dissent from the church— they were only intended as
auxiliaries ; and both ministers and members were in the practice of going to
the sacrament in the Established churches. But it was impossible that this
harmony could long continue ; and, as was the case of Methodism in England,
the alliance was soon broken, and the new congregations were organized into a
body of Dissenterism. And then followed a spirit of division, by which the
v. 2 m

!74 ROBERT HALDANE.

body was rent in twain. The question of Paedobaptisra was the subject of con-
troversy ; and while Ilaldane and his brother adopted the sentiments of the
Baptists, and were followed by a large portion of the Congregationalists, the
rest took a more decided stand upon those principles of Independency which
had long been recognized in England. Such was the history of a religious
cause which, be its intrinsic merits what the}^ niay, has never been congenial
to the spirit of the Scottish nation.

In this manner the days of Robert Haldane were indefatigably occupied for
a course of years, and to these general labours we must add his own individual
exertions as a lay-preacher and missionary ; for he was of opinion that the office
of an evangelist neither needed the regular preparation of a college, nor the
authoritative sanction of a presbyter^-. At length, finding that repose to be
necessary which results from change of action, he once more turned to the occu-
pations of a country gentleman, by purchasing, in 1009, the estate of Auchin-
gray, in Lanarkshire — a desolate moor of 2000 acres, on which grew only a
single tree ; but which his exertions adorned with forests of larch, firs, bircli,
ash, and coppice. This, however, was not his chief occupation, for a large por-
tion of his time was spent in the stud}'-, where his preparations for the pulpit
equalled those of the most ambitious or pains-taking minister. Another impor-
tant purpose to which he addressed himself was the preparation of a literary
work on the Evidences of Christianity. He was dissatisfied with the established
writings upon this important subject, where the authors, however learned and
talented, seemed to be more solicitous about the outworks of Christianity than
its inner life and spirit ; and he justly thought that a more correct and more
endearing view of the faith itself should be given, in addition to the arguments
by which its heaven-descended authority was authenticated. The result of this
wish was his " Evidence and Authority of Divine Revelation," of which the
first edition was published in 1816. The work, which, at a later period of his
life, was considerably extended and improved, was not only favourably received
by the Christian public, but highly commended by the most influential judges.

After this publication, an important epoch in the life of Mr. Haldane fol-
lowed. This was his memorable journey to Geneva and Montauban. After
twenty j^ears of toil and sacrifice, he had witnessed such a religious revival in
Scotland as left him little cause to regret that Congregationalism should at last
be found unnecessary. Still as earnest upon the great work of his life, and as
buojant for missionary enterprise as when he commenced his career, he now
resolved to make once more a tour of the Continent, which the peace had but
lately opened to the visits of British travellers. Accompanied by Mrs. Haldane,
he left Edinburgh on the 9th of October, 1810. His first halt was at Paris;
but finding no opening there for missionary labour, and hearing of the be-
nighted state of Geneva, he went to that city, and there took up his residence.
That home of Calvin and refuge of John Knox, and therefore so endeared to
the affections of every leal-hearted Scotsman — alas! how it had fallen from its
ancient supremacy! Those doctrines, of which it was once the nursing-mother
and propagandist, had been so utterly forgotten, that, when the new visitor
announced them, he was met with the Athenian cry, " Thou bringest certain
strange things to our ears! " Not merely the Calvinistic form of Christianity,
but even Christianity itself, had dwindled down into Arianism, Socinianism,
Neology, Deism — anything, in short, but what it originally was, while each
man was allowed to modify it according to his own pleasure, provided he did

KOBERT llALDANE. 275

not disturb society, either with warnings of its apostasy or a summons to
repentance. Such was especially the state of the pastors of the canton, the
theological schools, and the students in training for the ministry; and although
a very few suspected occasionally that they v/ere in the wrong, and that there
v/as some better way which they had missed, there was neither friend to encou-
rage nor teacher to direct them in their inrjuiries. But, on the entrance of
Robert Haldane, a change commenced in Geneva. He received a few of the
students at his hotel, to whom he expounded the Scriptures ; the numbers of
inquirers grew and multiplied, and light increased among those who diligently
sought it. " In a very short time," writes the biographn- of one of this band,
" a striking revival, effected by his means, was manifested in the school of
theology. Around the venerable Haldane, their true professor, there gathered
habitually more than twenty pupils of that auditory, converted by the instruc-
tions of that blessed Word, which they began immediately to distribute at
Geneva, or, at a later period, to carry to neighbouring countries; and amongst
the latter may be named Henri Py t, Jean Guillaume Gonthier, and Charles Rieu,
who died pastor at Frederica, in Denmark. It was on Thursday, the Gth of
February, 1817, that Mr. Haldane undertook to read and explain to them the
Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans. ' He knew the Scriptures,' says Pyt, 'like
a Christian who has had for his Master the same Holy Spirit by whom they
were dictated.' He spoke in English; first, M. Rieu, then M. Fred. Monod, of
Paris, or M. James, of Breda, interpreted. Never, we venture to say, since the
days of Francis Turreiine and Benedict Pictet, of holy and happy memory —
never had any doctor expounded the whole counsel of God with such purity,
force, and fulness ; never had so bright a luminary shone in the city of Calvin."
These students, however, mimerous as the}' ultimately became, did not consti-
tute the whole of his audience. " Besides those who attended regularly,"
Haldane himself writes, "some, who did not wish to appear with the students,
came at different hours; and in conversing with them at those times, or after
finishing the public course at eight o'clock, I was often engaged till near mid-
night. Others of the inhabitants of Geneva, unconnected with the schools of
learning, and of both sexes, occasionally visited me in the afternoon respecting
the gospel.'' No such movement has ever occurred without opposition ; and
the Genevese pastors, after vainly attempting to refute the new preacher,
endeavoured to procure his banishment from the canton ; and, on the refusal of
their free republican government, they proposed to cite hiiu before their spiri-
tual court, as a teacher of error and perverter of their students. But all that
they could do was to frame new acts, which ever}^ student was required to sign
before being licensed to preach ; acts particularly framed against the doctrines
of the Godhead of the Saviour, original sin, grace and effectual calling, and pre-
destination. It was the blundering policy of persecutors, who endeavour to
silence, without having power and authority' to destroy. The sword, wielded
by such feeble hands, was but the touch of a spur to accelerate the movement.
Having finished the good work at Geneva, and kindled a flame that was not
to be extinguished, Mr. Haldane wisely resolved to retire, and transfer his
labours to some other quarter. Montauban was selected as his next field,
which he reached in July, 1817. Here he published, in French, his prelections
to the students of Geneva, in two volumes, under the title of a " Commentary
on the Romans." Although the centre of education for the Protestants of the
Reformed Church in France, Montauban was too like the parent city of Ge-

276 KOBERT HALDANE.

neva; it liad lapsed from the faith, and was overrun with Arianism and infi-
delit3\ Here lie resided more than two years, and proceeded in the same
manner as he had done at Geneva. And, happily, it was with similar results.
Several niinistei-s and many young students, who had been trained in Rational-
ism, were awoke from their security, and converted to the faith under his apos-
tolic ministry. At length, the near prospect of the death of his father-in-law,
in Scotland, occasioned his return, but with the purpose of revisiting Montau-
ban, which, however, he was not destined to accomplish. It would be difficult
to estimate the effects of this singular tour ; D'Aubigne, no mean judge of great
religious movements, has characterized it as "one of the most beautiful episodes
in the history of the church." Its history, we doubt not, will long continue to Le
read in the future religious progress of France and Switzerland. Besides the
distinguished leading men in the continental churches who were reclaimed from
the prevalent darkness, among whom may be mentioned Caesar Malan, of Geneva,
and Merle D'Aubigne, the eloquent historian of the Reformation, it is calcu-
lated, on the authority of M. Mejanel, that in France and Switzerland more
than sixty ministers had been converted by the instrumentality of JMr. Haldano.
Twenty-four years afterwards the following attestation of his labours was written
by the president of the French Protestant Consistory to Mr. Haldane's nephew: — •
" We have borne him in our heart ever since the moment when the Lord blessed
us by bringing him into the midst of us ; and the good which he has done to us,
and which is extending more and more in our church, renders, and will render,
his name and memory for ever dear. When he first appeared in our town
[Montauban]the gospel of salvation was in little honour, and its vital doctrines en-
tirely unknown, except by a very few, who, encouraged by our venerable brother,
frankly announced them, in spite of the opposition of unbelief. But, thanks be
to God, now in this church, as in a great number of others in our France, the
truth of God is preached with power, and without ostensible contradiction.
The great majority of pastors are approaching nearer and nearer to the orthodoxy
of our fathers, and many among them are truly examples of zeal for the house
of God. I am often touched, even to tears, in seeing pastors, at whose ordina-
tion I did not wish to take part, preach Christ and Christ crucified with liberty
of heart, full of force and blessing. I tell you these things, dear Sir, because it
is most certainly the fruit of the good seed sown here and elsewhere by your
venerable uncle."

On his return to Scotland Mr. Haldane, always indefatigable In the good work
to which he had devoted himself, was employed with the state of religion at
home and upon the Continent, intermingled with occasional preaching and a
missionary visit to Ireland. In this way he occupied himself till 1821, when a
painful event called him forth as a controversialist, and that too, not with tlie
enemies, but the professed friends and disseminators of vital uncontaminated
Christianity. This conflict in which he was engaged, still remembered as the
Apocryphal Controversy, originated in the following circumstances: — On the
establishment of the British and Foreign Bible Society, it was agreed that
the Scriptures should be circulated without note and comment, and that the
Apocrypha should be excluded. This condition it was easy to observe at home,
and in Protestant countries abroad where the canon of Scripture has been esta-
blished, and its own inspired language received as the only authority. But it
was very different in Popish countries, where the prevalent erroi's are mainly
established upon passages from the Apocryphal writings, and where, conse-

ROBERT IIALDANE. 277

qiiently, the books of Tobifc, the Maccabees, or Bel and the Dragon, are of eqiinl
authority with those of the apostles and prophets. They would not receive the
Bible, therefore, unless it included the Apocrypha, and in an evil hour the
Society yielded to their demand. They not only gave money in aid of foreign
societies that published these adulterated Scriptures, but actually printed Bibles
with the Apocrypha intermingled or appended, to further the circulation of the
Word among Romanist, Greek, and semi- Protestant communities. This was a
bold step, which the British public Avould not have tolerated ; it was, besides, a
breach of faith against those principles on which the Society had been founded.
Concealment, therefore, was added to fraud, and impunity only increased the
evil. At length it became so great, that the translation of Scripture w^as in-
trusted to men who vitiated the text by neological versions of the original, in
compliance with Western scepticism, or disfigured it with bombast to suit the
taste of the East. It was thought enough to disseminate the Word of God, and
that if this were but done, it mattered little with what extraneous or corrupt ad-
ditions it might be accompanied. " I would distribute the Bible," said one advo-
cate of this perversity, " though the writings of Tom Paine were bound up in
it." "And I, too," said another, improving upon the idea, " though the history
of Tom Thumb should be inclosed in it."

In this way a pious fraud was commenced, that went onward step by step,
until it attained the maturity of full-grown Jesuitism. And still the unsus-
pecting public increased their liberality from year to year, and satisfied them-
selves that all was right. At length it fell to Robert Haldane, by the merest
accident, to detect this monstrous evil while it was as yet in its infancy. In
1821, being in London, he had occasion to visit the offices of the Bible Society,
where he left his umbrella, and called next day to recover it. While he thus
"looked in,' he was requested to join a sub-committee which was then sitting.
He complied; but as the business went onward, he was astonished to discover
how much tlie Apocrypha had been already circulated among the foreign
translations of the Bible. His appeals on the occasion were loud and earnest,
and the society agreed to discontinue the practice. Thus matters continued
quiet till 1824, when it was found that the practice was still going on — and all
that good miglit come out of it. Finding his remonstrances ineffectual, Islr.
Haldane now appealed to the Edinburgh Society, which had hitherto acted in
connection with t'.ie British and Foreign Bible Society ; and as none of those
Apocryphal sympathies were harboured in the north that still lingered in
England, the Edinburgh branch withdrew from the coalition, and formed an
establishment of its own for the circulation of an unmixed, unadulterated
gospel. Such a secession could not be accomplished without a controversy ;
for the parent society, that felt itself rebuked by the movement, endeavoured to
justify itself to the Christian public ; and thus the two parties entered into a
conflict that lasted for years, and was waged with all the earnestness not only
of a religious, but a national warfare. It was England and Scotland once
more in the field, while the canon of Scripture itself was at issue. In behalf of
the British and Foreign Bible Society, not only the mere advocates of expe-
diency were enlisted, but men of the highest reputation for learning, orthodoxy,
and piet}', and the chief religious periodicals of the day. On the otiier side.
Dr. Andrew Thomson, the most formidable of controversialists, and Robert
Haldane, by whom the evil had been detected and the resistance commenced,
were the principal champions.

278 EGBERT HALDANE.

Nothing can be more unjust and ungenerous at this time of daj', than to look
back upon such a conflict either with contempt or indifference. Revelation
itself was at stake. Driven from all their weak defences of necessity and
expediency, the Apoer3'phal pai-ty in desperation endeavoured to justify them-
selves by calling in question the canon of Scripture itself, as if it were a mere
matter on which every one might think as he pleased ; and to make good their
mischievous position, they explored the works of the old heretical writers, to
show how much of the Bible was interpolated or uninspired, and how much
might safely be called in question. Never indeed was such violence done to
the faith of a Protestant community, or the belief of men in such danger of
being unsettled. Onward went the conflict till 1830, when Dr. Thomson,
exhausted by his almost super-human effoi-ts, fell dead at his post with the
banner in his hand, which was immediately caught and raised aloft by Mr.
Haldane. It was much indeed that he had been able hitherto to keep pace with
the onward stride of such a leader. But after many a change and trial, truth in
the end prevailed ; the canon of inspiration was more securely' settled than ever,
and the Bible Society recovei'ed from its errors and restored to healthfulness
and efficiency. During this long controversy, Mr. Haldane's exertions, both on
the platform and in the press, were so numerous, that we can only particularize
his chief publications upon the subject. In 1825 appeared his " Review of the
Conduct of the British and Foreign Bilde Society relative to the Apocrypha,
and to their Administration on the Continent; with an Answer to the Rev.
C. Simeon, and Observations on the Cambridge Remarks." Tliis was after-
wards followed by a " Second Review," in a pamphlet of more than 200 pages, in
consequence of a " Letter addressed to Robert Haldane Esq.," by Dr. Steinkopff,
impugning the statements of the first. A third work which he published was
entitled "Authenticity and Inspiration of the Scriptures." A fourth was a
"Review of Dr. Pye Smith's Defence of Dr. Haffner's Preface, and of his
Denial of the Divine Authority of Part of the Canon, and of the full Inspiration
of the Holy Scriptures, by Alexander Carson." This work, written by a friend,
served as a sequel to his own on the " Authenticity and Inspiration of the
Scriptures." Several other works by the same Dr. Carson, on the canon of
Scripture, were published by Mr. Haldane during the course of the controversy,
at his own expense. After these, a series of pamphlets appeared from the pen
of Mr. Haldane, in which he answered separately the Rev. John Scott of Hull,
Mr. Gurney of Norwich, the Rev. Samuel Wilks^ and other defenders of the
British and Foreign Bible Societ\%

We must now hasten over the latter days of Haldane, although they were
characterized by the same high sense of duty and devoted activity that had dis-
tinguished his whole career. Before the Apocryphal controversy had ended, he
published a " Refutatation of the Heretical Doctrine promulgated by the Rev.
Edward Irving respecting the Person and Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ ;"
a work, the title of which will sufficiently explain the purport. In 1834 he
published a new edition of his " Evidences of Christianity," to which many
valuable chapters were added that had not appeared in the original work of
1816. After this he addressed himself to the revision of his greatest work,
" The Exposition of the Epistle to the Romans," upon which he had been more
or less employed for thirty years, and published it, greatly improved and en-
larged, in 1835. The fact of a lengthened exposition upon such a subject having
reached a fifth edition Avithin seven years, was a full attestation of its theological

CAPTAIN BASIL HALL. 279

merits. It might have been hoped that his controversial warfare had now
ended, and that his life would have been left undisturbed to those important
theological investigations which he so greatly delighted to prosecute. But, in
1838, a generous love of fair play, and sympathy for the oppressed, obliged him
once more to buckle on his armour. The clergy of the Established Church in
Edinburgh were paid, as they had long been, by an annuitj'-tax levied upon
every householder within the royalty of the city. But at this the Dissenters
and Seceders had demurred, and were now in open opposition ; while many,
from mistaken conscientiousness, or allured b^' the eclat of martyrdom divested
of its more serious pains and penalties, were willing to incur the risk of fine or
even of imprisonment rather than support any longer what they called " the
State Churcli." Thus the Established clergy of Edinburgh were surrounded bj--
a blockade, and tlireatened to be reduced by famine. It was then that Ilaldane,
himself a Dissenter, hastened to the rescue, lie boldly assailed the coalition
that had been formed for the non-payment of the annuity-tax; grounding his
argument upon tlie first seven verses of the thirteenth chapter of St. Paul's
Epistle to the Romans, and startled the recusants by proving from this authority
tliat they were guilty of rebellion against Christ himself. His appeal was
addressed through one of the Edinburgh newspapers, and eleven letters followed,
in which he pursued the same line of argument. So successful were these
addresses that the tide of popular feeling was turned, the coalition broken, and
its leader silenced. It would be well for the Established clergy of Edinburgh, if
again, when the hostile feeling has been renewed, they could find such another
advocate.

Old age and its decay were now doing their appointed work, and by 18-10
Mr. Haldane was obliged to desist from his wonted duties as preacher in the
chapel which he had erected at Auchingray. But to the last he continued to
interest himself in religious and missionary movements, and to revise and im-
prove his Exposition of the Ilomans, which he justly regarded as the most
important of all his writings. Thus he continued to the close of his life, on the
12th of December, 1842, when he died, rejoicing in the faith he had preached,
and the love and Christian charity which his whole life had so beautifully
exemplified. His remains lie interred in one of the aisles of the venerable
cathedral of Glasgow, awaiting the joyful resurrection of the just. Only six
months after his widow also died, and her body was buried in the same vault
with her husband. Their only child, Margaret, left one son and three daughters,
the grandchildren of Robert Haldane, who still survive as his lineal repre-
sentatives.

HALL, Captain Basil, R.N.— Sir James Hall, Bart., of Dunglass, in the
county of Haddington, and M.P. for the borough of St. Michael's, Cornwall,
who was father of the subject of the present biographical notice, obtained a dis-
tinguished name in the scientific world by his successful researches, as well as
his writings. A part of his education was acquired at a university, where he
had for one of his fellow- students no less a personage than Napoleon Bonaparte
himself. Of this the fallen emperor, who never forgot anything, whether for
good or evil, had a most distinct recollection ; and when his son was introduced
to him, more than thirty years afterwards, at St. Helena, he exclaimed, on
hearing his name, "Ah! Hall; I knew your father when I was at the military
college of Brienne— I remember him perfectly — he was fond of mathematics-
he did not associate much with the younger part of the scholars, but rather

2S0 CAPTAIN BASIL HALL.

Vt'ith the priests and professors, in another part of the town from that in which
we lived." In 1813 Sir James published a learned and elaborate " Essay on the
Origin, Principles, and History of Gothic Architecture;" and was author of
several justly-admired papers in the "Transactions of the Royal Society of Edin-
burgh," of which he was president. He tried experiments on the fusion of
stony substances, and thereby established the fact of the identity of the com-
position of whinstone and lava. He also ascertained that carbonate of lime (as
common marble) might be fused without decomposition, if subjected to a degree
of pressure equal to that which would be caused by the sea at the depth of
about a mile and a half from its surface. The result of these inquiries tended
to establish the truth of the Plutonian or Igneous theory of the origin of
minerals, and to vindicate the authority of Hutton against that of Werner and
his followers. Such was the father of Captain Basil Hall, whom, in some im-
portant points of intellectual character, the son closely resembled; his mother
was a daughter of the fourth Earl of Douglas. Basil was born at Edinburgh,
in 1788. His education, which was chiefly conducted at the High School of
his native city, appears to have given little promise of future literary distinction;
its monotony he felt to be a very weariness ; and, instead of seeking a high place
among his fellows, he preferred the middle of the class, because it was nearest
to the comfortable fire. Still, however, his character was marked by consider-
able originality and independence ; a startling proof of which he once gave to
the master, by desiring to have the hours for study and recreation left to his
own disposal, instead of his being tied down to the regulations of the school.
As might be expected, this disregard of the laws of the Medes and Persians
fared as it deserved, and he continued to doze by the fireside. Happily, how-
ever, his aim of life had been early chosen, so that he could think of something
else than Latin conjugations. He had resolved to be a sailor, and every holiday
that released him from the class-room was spent by the sea-shore, and in fre-
quent cruises with the fishermen of the coast on which his father's estate was
situated.

This early predilection of Basil Hall was soon gratified ; for in 1802, when he
had onl}' reached his fourteenth year, he was entered into the royal navy. On
leaving home, " Now," said his father, putting a blank book into one hand
of the stripling, and a pen into the other, "you are fairly afloat in the world;
you must begin to write a journal." Little did Sir James know how zealously
this judicious advice would be followed out, and what fruits would germinate
from such a small beginning. The education that was fitted for such a mind as
his had now fairly commenced. As his biographer has justly observed, "The
opportunities which the naval profession affords, both for scientific pursuits and
the study of men and manners in various climes, happened, in Captain Hall's
case, to lead him into scenes of more than usual interest ; or perhaps it would
be more correct to state, that his eager and indefatigable pursuit of knowledge
induced him to seek every means of extending the sphere of his observations."
After having been six years at sea, during which long period he had been only
twelve days at home, he received a lieutenant's commission in 1808; and being
desirous of active service, he procured his transference from a ship of the line
to the frigate Endymion, employed at that time in transporting troops for Si:'
John Moore's army in Spain. There Lieutenant Hall witnessed many heart-
stirring events, not the least of which was that of the heroic Moore borne dying
from the battle of Corunna. Of the whole of this conflict, in which he was a

CAPTAIN BASIL HALL. 281

spectator, he has given an interesting account in his "Fragments of Voyages
and Travels."

'J he rest of Basil ITall's naval career is so well known from liis numerous works,
that nothing more is necessary than merely to advert to its leading points. In 1814
lie was promoted to the rank of commander, and in 1817 to that of post-captain.
Pending the period of advance from a lieutenancy, he was acting commander of
the Theban on the East India station, in 1813, when he accompanied its admi-
ral, Sir Samuel Hood, in a journey over the greater part of the island of Java.
On his return home he was appointed to the command of the Lyra, a small gun
brig that, in 181G, formed part of the armament in the embassy of Lord Amherst
to Cliiua. On the landing of the suite, and while his lordship was prosecuting his
inland journe}' to Pekin, Captain Hall used the opportunity by exploring those
wonders of the adjacent seas, which as yet were little, if at all, known to the
'•barbarians" of the " outer circle.' During this cruise his visit to the Great
Loo-Choo island will continue to be memorable, from the Eden-like scenery and
primitive innocent race which it presented to the eyes of its astonished visitors.
Even Napoleon himself was justified in doubting whether such a community
existed, when he was informed by Captain Hall that tliey not only used no
money, but possessed also no lethal weapon, not even a j^oniard or an arrow.
The ex-emperor indeed was in the right, for subsequent accounts have shown
tliat the Loo-Chooans must have cunningly imposed both upon Ilall and Captain
Maxwell, by whom the Alceste was commanded in the expedition, and that
these gentle islanders used not only weapons and money, but were among the
most merciless pirates in the Yellow Sea. On his return to England in 1817,
Captain Ilall published " A Voyage of Discovery to the Western Coast of Corea
and the Great Loo-Choo Island in the Japan Sea," a work so novel and inte-
resting in its materials, as well as so attractive in style, that it rapidly secured
a wide popularity. In this first edition there was an appendix containing charts
and various hydrographical and scientific notices, which were omitted in the
second, published in 1820. In 1827 the work appeared in a still more popular
form, being the first volume of ''Constable's Miscellany," while it was enriched
with the highly interesting account of his interview with Napoleon at St. Helena,
when the Lyra was on its return from the Chinese Sea.

In 1820 Captain Hall, in the ship Conway, under his command, proceeded to
Valparaiso, being charged to that effect by the British government. It was a
period of intense interest to the Spanish colonies of South America, engaged as
they were in that eventful warfiu'e with the mother country, by which their
independence was secured, and in such a contest Britain could not look on as
an unconcerned spectator. After having touched at TenerifFe, Rio-de-Janeiro,
and the River Plate, and remained at anchor in the principal seaport of the
Chilian coast, according to orders, he was next sent, in 1821, from Valparaiso
towards Lima, being commanded to call by the way at the intermediate ports
on the coast of Chili and Peru. The object of this cruise was to inquire into
the British interests at these places; to assist and protect any of his Britannic
i\Iajesty's trading subjects ; and, in a general way, to ascei'tain the commercial
resources of the district. Having discharged these pacific but important duties
to the full satisfaction of government, he returned to England early in 1823, and
published the result of his observations under the title of "Extracts from a
Journal written on the Coasts of Chili, Peru, and Mexico, in the years 1820,
1821, and 1822." This work, which afterwards constituted the second and third

V. 2 N

282 CAPTAIN BASIL HALL.

volumes of " Constable's Miscellany," contained not only a Iiiglily interesting
account of the people of these countries, and the events of the war of South
American independence, but a memoir on the navigation of the South American
station, a valuable collection of scientific observations, and an article " On the
Duties of Naval Commanders-in-chief on the South American Station, before
the appointment of Consuls."

Captain Hall had now established for himself a higher reputation than that
of a brave sailor, skilful navigator, and rising man in his profession ; his scien-
tific acquirements, which he made by close stud}' and careful observation during
tlie course of his professional service in every quarter of the world, had insured
him the favourable notice of the most eminent in the several departments of
physics, while the literary excellence of the works he had already published had
given him an honoured place among the most popular writers of the day. On
this account, while he was on shore, it was as an author, and in the society of
authors ; and in this respect his journal affords such a mass of information that
we wonder how a sailor could have written it. But every phase of intellec-
tual society, every movement, every utterance, was as carefully noted by
him AS if he had been on the look-out upon the mast-head amidst a new ocean
studded with rocks, shoals, and sunny islands. In this way, amongst other
information, he has given us one of the most minute, and at the same time most
graphic and interesting, accounts wliich we possess of the domestic life of Sir
Walter Scott. As he was living on shore at the time, he spent the Christmas
of 1824 at Abbotsford, with the " Great Unknown," while the mansion itself,
which was newly finished and now to be inaugurated, had a greater concourse
of distinguished guests than it could well contain. " Had I a hundred pens,"
exclaims Hall on this occasion, " each of which at the same time should sepa-
rately write down an anecdote, I could not hope to record one-half of those
which our host, to use Spenser's expression, ' welled out alway.' " But wliat
man could do he did on this occasion; and during these ten or twelve happy
days, every hour found him on the alert, and every evening occupied in bring-
ing up his log. In this way his " Abbotsford Journal " alone would form a
delightful volume. " Certainly Sir Walter Scott," observes his son-in-law and
biographer, "was never subjected to sharper observation than that of his ingeni-
ous friend, Captain Basil Hall." But while thus observant. Hall could also be
as frolicsome a Jack-ashore as ever landed after a two years' cruise, and this he
showed when Hogmany-night came; that night often so destructive of merri-
ment, because people are then, as it were, enjoined by proclamation, like those
of Cyprus, to "put themselves in triumph." "It is true enough," says Hall,
when philosophizing upon this perverse tendency, " that it is to moralize too
deeply to take tilings in this way, and to conjure up, with an ingenuity of self-
annoyance, these blighting images. So it is, and so I acted ; and as mjf heart
was light and unloaded with any care, I exerted myself to carry tiirougli the
ponderous evening; ponderous only because it was one set apart to be light and
gay. I danced reels like a wild man, snapped my fingers, and hallooed with
the best of them; flirted with the young ladies at all hazards; and with the elder
ones — of which there was a store — I talked and laughed finely." One part of
this journal, and not the least interesting part of it, is a solution of one of the
great literary problems of the day; viz., how Sir Walter Scott could write so
much, and yet be apparently so little in his study. Did he labour while all the
world was asleep, that he might mingle in its daily intercourse ? Captain Hall's

solution gives us an insight into his own literary character, and shows us how
he was himself able to write so many volumes : — '' I have taken the trouble," he
says, "to make a computation, whicli I think fair to give, whichever way it may
be thought to make in the argument. In each page of ' Kenihvorth ' there are,
upon an average, 8G-i letters; in each page of this journal 777 letters. Now I
fmd tliat in ten days I have written 120 pages, which would make about 108 pages
of ' Kenihvorth ;' and as there are 320 pages in a volume, it would, at my rate
of writing this jouinal, cost about 29^ days for each volume, or say three montlis
for the composition of the whole of that work. No mortal in Abbotsford House
ever learned that I kept a journal. I was in company all day, and all the even-
ing till a late hour, apparently the least occupied of the party ; and, I will
venture to say, not absent from the drawing-room one-quarter of the time that
the Unknown was. I was always down to breakfast before any one else, and
often three-quarters of an hour before the author of ' Kenihvorth ;' always
among the very last to go to bed ; in short, I would have set the acutest observer
at defiance to have discovered when I wrote this journal; and yet it is written,
honestly and foiily, day by day. I don't say it has cost me much labour, but
it is surely not too much to suppose that its composition has cost me, an un-
practised writer, as much study as ' Kenilworth ' has cost the glorious Un-
known. I have not had tlie motive of £5500 to spur me on for my set of
volumes ; but If I had had such a bribe, in addition to the feelings of good-wilj
for those at home, for whose sole perusal 1 write this, and if I had had in viev.',
over and above, the literary glory of contributing to the happiness of two thirds
of the globe, do you think I would not have written ten times as much, and yel
no one should have been able to discover when it was that I had put pen to
paperT' All this is well; but alas for the man, however talented and however
active, who tasks his mind like a machine or a steam-engine, and calculates
tliat, according to the ratio of a few days or weeks, it may be made to go onward,
witliout interval, for months, for years, for a whole lifetime ! Both Scott and
Hall tried the experiment, and we know how mournfully it ended. While men-
tioning these two in connection, it may be as well to state that the acquaintance-
ship which they enjoyed during these bright but brief festal meetings at Abbots-
ford, was not interrupted, but rather drawn more closely, by the distressing
events that clouded the latter years of Sir Walter. Such was the case especially
in 1826, when, after making a visit to Scott's now humble residence in North St.
David Street (Edinburgh), with the veneration of a pilgrim. Hall thus prefaced
his account of the interview in his journal upon his returning home : — " A hun-
dred and fifty years hence, when his works have become old classical authorities,
it may interest some fervent lover of his writings to know what this great
genius was about on Saturday, the 10th of June, 1826, five months after the total
ruin of his pecuniary fortunes, and twenty-six days after the death of his wife."
When Scott's health was so utterly broken down that a voyage to Naples, and
a winter's residence there, were prescribed as a last resource. Captain Hall, un-
known to his friend, and prompted by his own kind heart, applied on this
occasion to Sir James Graham, first Lord of the A-dmiralty, and suggested how
fit and graceful an act it would be on the part of government to place a frigate
at Scott's disposal for his voyage to the Mediterranean. The application was
successful ; and Sir Walter, amidst the pleasure he felt at such a distinction,
could not help exclaiming of Hall, " That curious fellow, who takes charge of
every one's business without neglecting his own, has done a great deal for me in

this matter." Here Captain Hall's good offices did not terminate, for he pre-
ceded Sir Walter to Portsmouth, to make preparations for his arrival and com-
fortable embarkation. Of the few days which Sir Walter Scott spent at
Portsmouth on this occasion, the captain has given a full account in the third
volume of his " Third Series of Voyages and Travels."

In the interview wliich Hall was privileged to enjoy with Napoleon Bona-
parte at St. Helena, and amidst the abrupt transitions that occurred in the mani-
fold dialogue, where he was catechized more closely than ever he had been before,
he records the following part of it, so closely connected with his own personal
history:— " Bonaparte then said, ' Are you married?' and upon my replying
in the negative, continued, ' Why noti What is the reason you don't m;u-ry V
I was somewhat at a loss for a good answer, and remained silent, lie repeated
Jiis question, however, in such a way that I was forced to say something, and
told him I had been too busy all my life ; besides which, I was not in circum-
stances to marry. He did not seem to understand me, and again wished to know
why I was a bachelor. I told him I was too poor a man to marry. ' Aha !' he
cried, ' I now see— want of money — no money — yes, yes !' and laughed heartily,
in Avhich I joined, of course, tliough, to say the truth, I did not altogether see
the humorous point of the joke." We do not wonder at Hall's blindness, for it
was no joke at all to have been compelled to remain so long in celibacy (he was
now in his thirtieth year), Avithout a definite prospect of emancipation. Thus
matters continued for eight years longer, when, in 1825, he married Margaret,
youngest daughter of the late Sir John Hunter, consul-general for Spain.

Hitherto the career of Captain Hall had been a mixed one, being spent partly
on sea and partly on shore, -while the duties of his profession were alternated
with the study of the sciences and the acquirement of languages ; and what-
ever land he visited in the course of his many voyages, called forth from him a
descriptive work, such as few literary landsmen could have written. And yet,
with all this incessant mental action, and overflow of intellectual labour, the
details of his profession had been so carefully studied, and its manifold require-
ments so well attended to, that he had attained a naval rank and reputation
only accorded to those who have devoted themselves exclusively to the sea
service. Now, however, we must briefly trace the rest of his life on shore,
when, as a married man, he had settled down, and, in the words of Bacon, given
hostages to fortune. B}^ settling down, however, we are to understand nothing
else than his abandonment of the sea, for his active inquiring spirit would have
carried him into every corner of the earth, had time and opportunity permitted.
In 1827, he repaired with his wife and child to the United States, in which
they spent above a year, and where he travelled during that time nearly nine
thousand miles by land and water. The fruits of his observations were given
soon after his return, in his " Travels in North America," in three vols. 8vo,
which he published in 1829. His next work was "Fragments of Voyages and
Travels," which formed three serial publications, each consisting of 3 vols.
12mo. la 1834, he was travelling in Italy, and at Rome he formed the
acquaintanceship of the distinguished Countess of Purgstall, who had been an
early friend of his father. This lady, originally Miss Cranstoun, a native of
Scotland, and sister of George Cranstoun, advocate, afterwards Lord Corehouse,
was so famed for her eccentric liveliness, beauty, wit, and accomplishments, as
to have been supposed by many to have been the original Diana Vernon, who
so fascinated the novel-reading world in the pages of Rob Roy. Although this

CAPTAIN BASIL HALL. 2jJ

identity is denied by the biographer of Sir Walter Scott, it is certain that she
was the early friend of the great novelist, and bore a strong family resemblance
to the subsequent heroine of his creation. In 1797 she was married to Godfrey
Wenceslaus, count of Purgstall, an Austrian nobleman, possessing large estab-
lishments in Styria. But although surrounded with almost regal splendour,
tlie latter part of the life of this once happy creature was a mournful one ; for
first her husband died in 1811, and finally, a few years afterwards, her only son,
n j'outh of high promise and attainments, at the early age of nineteen, by
which death the illustrious race of Purgstall was extinct ; and the forlorn
wife and mother, who had vowed to her son upon his death-bed that her dust
should finally be mingled with his, resisted every solicitation of her early friends
to return to her native Scotland, and preferred a residence for the rest of her
days in her now lonely and deserted Styria. Captain Hall gladly accepted an
invitation to visit her, at her scJiJoss or castle of Heinfe]d,near Gratz; and from
the journal which he kept there, he afterwards published his work of "Schloss
Ileinfeld, or a Winter in Lower Styria." The lady had now reached the
advanced age of seventy-eight, but her recollections of early days were still so
fresh and vivid, that they formed the chief theme of her conversation, while
she found in Captain Hall a delighted listener. " The Countess's anecdotes, '
he sa^'s, "relating to this period (of her intimacy with Sir Walter Scott), wc;e
\vithout number ; and I bitterly regretted, when it was too late, that I had not
commenced at once making memoranda of what she told us. It was, indeed,
quite clear to us, that this accomplished and highly gifted lady was the first
person who not merely encouraged him to persevere, but actually directed and
chastised those incipient efforts which, when duly matured, and rendered con-
fident by independent exercise, and repeated though cautious trials, burst forth
at last from all control, and gave undisputed law to the whole world of letters."
It was at this huge Styrian castle, also, that Captain Hall spent his forty sixtli
birth-day, upon which occasion he gives us the following retrospect of his past
existence : — " I have enjoyed to the full each successive period of my life, as it
has rolled over me ; and just as I began to feel that I had had nearly enough
of any one period, new circumstances, more or less fortunate and agreeable,
began to start up, and to give me fresher, and, generally speaking, more lively
interest in the coming period than in that which had just elapsed. As a middy,
I was happy — as a lieutenant, happier — as a captain, happiest ! I remember
thinking that the period from 1815 to 1823, during which I commanded differ-
ent ships of wai", could not by any possibility be exceeded in enjoyment; and
yet I have found the dozen years which succeeded greatly happier, though in a
very different way. It is upon this that the whole matter turns. Different
seasons of life, like different seasons of the year, require different dresses; and
if these be misplaced, there is no comfort. Were I asked to review my happy
life, and to say what stage of it I enjoyed most, I think I should pitch upon
that during which I passed my days in the scientific, literary, and political
society of Loiidon, and my nights in dancing and flirting till sunrise, in the
delicious paradise of Almacks, or the still more bewitching ball-rooms of Edin-
burgh ! Perhaps next best was the quiet half-year spent in the Schloss Hein-
feld. What the future is to produce is a secret in the keeping of that clos3
fellow. Time; but I await the decision with cheerfulness and humble confi-
dence, sure that whatever is sent will be for the best, be it what it may." — How
blessed a boon is our ignorance of futurity ! Througli this ignorance, years of

286 THOMAS HENDERSON.

happiness were yet in store for Captain Hall, and at their close, "sufficient for
the day weve the evils tliereof."

Hitherto we have noticed the carefulness with which he had been accustomed,
Avhercver he went, to keep a daily journal. Tiie advantage of this plan is
obvious in all his writings. Every object he describes as if he had just left it,
and every event as if its last echo had not j-et died away. Thus, his " Schloss
Heinfeld," which is such a lively fascinating work, was but an episode in one
of three trips to the Continent, and out of these visits he purposed to make a
whole series of similar writings from tlie copious memorials he had taken of his
every-day movements. This, however, he did not accomplish, and his last pro-
duction, entitled "Patchwork," in three volumes, was published in 1841. It
is a light sketcliy collection of tales, recollections of his travel in foreign
countries, and essay's, and evinces that his intellect was still as vigorous and
his heart as buoyant as ever. But here the memoir of Captain Kail must be
abruptly closed. Mental aberration, perhaps the result of so much activity
and toil, supervened, after which his existence was but a blank ; and being
necessarily placed in confinement, he died in the Royal Hospital, Haslar,
Portsmouth, on the 11th of Septembei", 1344, at the age of fifty-six.

In the preceding notice, instead of enumerating the whole of Basil Hall's
numerous writings, we have confined ourselves to those that were connected
with his personal history. Allusion has already been made to his scientific
researches, which he commenced as a young midshipman, and continued to
the end of his career. Besides the interspersion of these researches among his
popular works, he produced several detached papers, of which the following
list has been given : —

"An Account of the Geology of the Table Mountain.''

"Details of Experiments made witli an Invariable Pendulum in South
America and other places, for determining the Figure of the Earth."

"Observations made on a Comet at Valparaiso."

Besides these three papers, which were published in the Transactions of the
Royal Society, Captain Hall produced —

" A Sketch of the Professional and Scientific Objects which might be aimed
at in a Voyage of Research."

" A Letter on the Trade- Winds, in tlie Appendix to Daniell's Meteorology.''

Several scientific papers in Brewster's Journal, Jamieson's Journal, and
the Encyclopedia Britannica.

It is only necessary to add to this account, that Captain Hall was a fellow
of the Royal Societies of London and Edinburgli, and a member of the Astro-
nomical Society of London.

HENDERSON, Thomas, Professor of Practical Astronomy, Edinburgli —
This distinguished astronomer was born at Dundee, on the 28th of December,
1708. His father, who was a respectable tradesman, after giving him the best
education which his native town could furnish, apprenticed Thomas, at the age
of fifteen, to Mr. Small, a writer or attorney, in whose office his elder brother
was then a partner. Here he served a term of six years with great diligence ;
and on the expiration of this period he removed to Edinburgh, to perfect Iiim-
self in the study of law, as his future profession. Having obtained a situation
in the office of a writer to the signet, his abilities and diligence attracted the
notice of Sir James Gibson Craig, bj^ whose recommendation he was appointed
secretary or advocate's clerk to the talented and eccentric John Clerk, after-

TIIQMxVS IIEXDERSON. 28/

wards raised to the bench under the title of Lord Eldin. On the retirement of
the latter into private life, Mr. L'enderson obtained the situation of private
secretary'- to the Earl of Lauderdale, Avliich he afterwards quitted for the more
lucrative appointment of secretary to Francis Jeffrey, then Lord Advocate, in
vliich office he continued till 1881.

All this Avas nothing more than the successful career of a diligent young
lawyer, devoted to his profession, and making it the means of advancement in
life ; and as such, his biography would not have been worth mentioning. But
simultaneous with his application to the law, another course of study had been
going on, from which he was to derive his future distinction. It often enough
—too often — happens, that dry legal studies send the young mind with a
violent recoil into the opposite extreir.e; and thus many a young Hopeful of a

family is

" Foredoom'd his father's soul to cross,

"\Ylio pens a stanza when he should engross."

Henderson, however, chose more wisely, for his favourite by-study was that
of astronomy, which he commenced so early as during the period of his appren-
ticeship— which he prosecuted so as not to retard his professional pursuits —
and to which he did not wholly resign himself, until he found that he could do
it with safety and advantage. In Dundee he applied to astronomical investi-
gations during the leisure hours of his apprenticeship, and continued in like
manner to prosecute them after his arrival in Edinburgh, where his proficiency
in the science gradually introduced him to the acquaintanceship of Professors
Leslie and Wallace, Captain Basil Hall, and other distinguished scientific men
of the northern capital. At this time it was fortunate for him that an observa-
tory had been erected upon the Calton Hill, whicli, though poorly furnished
with the necessary apparatus, had yet enough to satisfy the wants of ordinary
inquirers. Of this establishment Professor Wallace had charge ; and finding
that he could intrust Mr. Henderson, though a stranger, with free access and
full use of the instruments, the latter gladly availed himself of the opportunity,
by which he improved himself largely in the practical departments of astrono-
mical science, in addition to the theoretical and historical knowledge of it
which he had already acquired. These studies upon the Calton Hill were the
more commendable, when we take into account his weak health, his tendency
to a disorder in his eyes, and his diligence in the duties of his laborious profes-
sion, which he had too much wisdom and self-denial to neglect.

It was not till 1824 that Mi'. Henderson presented himself to notice as an
astronomer, which he did by communicating with Dr. Thomas Young, at that
time superintending the " Nautical Almanac." To him he imparted his method
of computing an observed occultation of a fixed star by the moon, which Young
published as an improvement upon his own, in the "Nautical Almanac" for
1827, and the four following years, to which Henderson added a recent method
and several calculations. These methods were also announced to the scientific
world by being published in the " London Quarterly Journal of Science," while
Mr. Henderson received for them the thanks of the Board of Longitude. In
1827 he communicated a paper to the Royal Society of London, " On the Dif-
ference of Meridians of the Royal Observatories of London and Paris," which
the society published in its " Transactions." IMr. Henderson's reputation, as a
'Scientific and practical asti'onomer, was now established, while his communica-
tions to Dr. Young were about to change his public career in life for one more

288 THOJIAS HENDERSOX.

congenial to his favourite pursuits. The latter, who held the important office
of secretary to the Board of Longitude, died, and after this event a memorau-
dum was found in his hand-writing, whicli he had deposited with Professor
Rigaud, desiring that, on the event of his death, the Admiralty should be
informed that no one was so competent, in his opinion, to succeed him as iMr.
Henderson. The Admiralty were pleased to tiiink otherwise, and appointed Mr.
Pond, the Astronomer-Royal, to the charge. Soon after another important
vacancy occurred by the death of Mr. Fallows, who had charge of the observa-
tory at the Cape of Good Hope; and on tlie Admiralty offering it to Mr. Hen-
derson, he closed with the proposal, and repaired to the Cape in 1832, althou<>li
it was to sojourn among strangers, and with a disease of tiie heart, whicli, he
knew, might at any time prove fatal. His scientific exertions during his short
residence at tlie Cape of Good Hope, attested his self-devoted zeal in behalf of
astronomy; for, independently of his official duties, the mass of observations
and calculations which he had stored up, would have sufficed for the lifetime of
a less earnest astronomer. Such incessant labour proved too much for his con-
stitution, and in little more than a year he was obliged to return home, wliere,
fixing his residence in Edinburgh, he devoted himself to the task of arranging
the large mass of valuable materials which he had collected at the Cape, wliile
he was thus employed, an agreement was entered into, in 1034, between the
government and the Astronomical Institution of Edinburgh, by which the
Institution agreed to give up the use of their observatory on the Calton Hill to
the University, while the government engaged to convert it into a public insti-
tution, furnish it with suitable instruments, and provide for an observer and
assistant. This movement made it necessary to fill up the professorsiiip of
practical astronomy, which had been vacant sixteen years ; and on Lord Mel-
bourne applying to the Astronomical Society of London for advice upon the
subject, Mr. Henderson was recommended to the chair, to which he was ap-
pointed, with the honorary office of Astronomer-Royal for Scotland, bein'>' the
first that had held it. Having thus obtained a situation that realized the bean
ideal of his ambition for scientific distinction, opportunities of stud}^, and means
of comfort, he, in 183G, married Miss Adic, eldest daughter of Mr. Adie, the
talented inventor of the sympiesometer.

Hitlierto we have scarcely alluded to Professor Henderson's astronomical
writings, upon wliich his fame depends. A list of these, however, amounting
to upwards of seventy communications, has been published in the "Annual
Report of the Astronomical Society for 1845." To these also must be added
his five volumes of observations from the Calton Hill, which were made between
the years 183-4 and 1839, as well as the selections from them whicli were given
to the world after his death. Tc all this labour, the exactness, and, in many
cases, the originality of which is more wonderful than the amount, great as it
was for so short a life, he brought that methodical diligence and application
which he had acquired in youth at the desk of a writer, and through whicli he
became a prosperous lawyer. It was not merely in astronomical calculation
that he excelled ; the different departments of natural science also had occupied
his studies, so that at diffei'ent periods he was enabled to supply the places of
the professors of mathematics and natural philosophy in the University of
Edinburgh. His death, which was sudden, and occasioned by that disease
of the lieart under which he had laboured for years, occurred on the 23d of
November, 1814.

JAM£S IIEPBURNE (Eaul of Botuweli). 2SD

IIEPBURNE, Jajies, Earl of Bothwell.— Little is known of the early-
career of this man, who hokls so unenviable a place in the annals of Scotland. A
considerable portion of his youth appears to have been spent in France, where he
not only acquired the acconiplishments, but learned those profligate habits by
which the French court was distinguislied. Fatally, indeed, was tlie nature of
this training afterwards illustrated ! His first return from that country to Scot-
land was in 15C0, at which time he is thus characterized by Throckmorton in a
letter to Queen Elizabeth : " lie is a glorious, rash, and hazardous young man, ar.d
therefore it were meet his adversaries sliould both have an eye to him, and also
keep him short."' Six years afterwards, when he stood more distinctly out to
public notice, Cecil wrote of him : " I assure you Bothwell is as naughty a man
as liveth, and much given to the detestable vices,"' After events showed but
too well that this was neither the language of prejudice nor malignity. It is
probable that he was now about the age of thirty. He does not appear to have
been distinguished for personal beauty, having, on the contrary^, rather an ill-
favoured countenance ; but his ingratiating arts and showy manners were more
than enough to counterbalance any defects of personal appearance. The out-
break that ended in the Chace-about-raid, which was so unfortunate to the Earl of
Murray and his party, was of the utmost benefit to his enemy, the Earl of
Bothwell ; he was called to court, restored to his hereditary office of Lord High
Admiral of Scotland, and appointed Lieutenant of the West and Middle Marches.
He was not long idle, for we find him in the field with the queen about three
weeks after, when I\Iurray"s dispirited troops fled before her and took refuge in
England. When the assassination of David Rizzio occurred, Bothwell, who
was in the Palace of Holyrood at the commencement of the uproar, and heard
the distant outcries that accompanied the deed, put himself, with the Earl of
Huntiv, at the head of the menials, who had snatched up whatever kitchen
weapons came first to hand, and hurried to the rescue; but this motley band
was easily dispersed by the armed retainers of the Earl of Morton, who were
stationed at the inner court. On this occasion Bothwell and Huntly, finding
themselves prisoners in tlie palace, and fearing that their own death was to
follow the assassination of Rizzio, descended from the back windows by a cord,
and made their escape through the fields. After this event it soon appeared that
Bothwell was to enter into the place, and enjoy the envied favour, wh'ch the un-
fortunate Italian had held, let the termination be what it might. He was called
to the queen's counsels, and every day he rose in her esteem, while her contempt
of Darnley increased. It was easy, indeed, for a woman's eye— and such a
woman as Mary — to distinguish between the shallow-minded poltroon whom
she had placed by her side on the throne, and the bold, gay, chivalrous courtier,
who added to the graces of his continental manners and education the unscru-
pulous ambition of the Frenchman and the daring courage of the Scot. Unfor-
tunate it was for ftlary that her education, and the examples by which her
youth had been surrounded, had little qualified her either to regulate such feel-
ings or check them at the commencement, and her admiration was soon followed
by a culpable affection, which at last she was unable to conceal, even from the
most unsuspecting of her subjects. At the beginning of October (15GG) she
had resolved to make a justiciary progress to Jedburgh, in consequence of the
rebellious conduct of the border chieftains on the south eastern frontier; and,
as a preparative, she sent Bothwell thither, two days previous, with the title
and authority of Lord-Lieutenant of the Border. But on reaching his destina-
Y. 2 o

290 JAMES HEPBURNE (Eakl of Botkweli).

tion he was so severely- wounded by a desperate freebooter, whom lie endea-
voured to apprehend with his own hand, that he was obliged to be carried to
the neighbouring Castle of Hermitage. Mary, who was then at the Castle of
Borthwick, no sooner heard of his disaster than, notwithstanding the inclemency
of the season, the danger of such a journey, and the sniallness of her train, she
hurried with all speed to Jedburgh, and from thence to Hermitage, to visit him.
A dangerous fever was the consequence of this violent exertion, under which
she was insensible for several days at Jedburgh; and on recovering her con-
sciousness, she was so impressed with the thought that death was at hand, that
she requested the nobles who were present to pray for her, commended her son
to the guardianship of Queen Elizabeth, and sent for her neglected husband,
who arrived two da\'s after the crisis had passed. But now that the danger was
over, she received him with her wonted aversion, and treated him with such dis-
courtesy as made him glad, on tlie following day, to set off to Stirling. But
very different was the reception of Bothwell, whom she caused to be brought
to her own temporary residence until he was fully recovered. The same
marked difference in the conduct of the queen towards her husband and
her paramour, was equally apparent in the baptism of her son, afterwards
James VI. of Scotland and I. of England. On such an important occasion
the father of the child, whatever might have been his faults, should have
been a prominent personage in the ceremonial. But no. Bothwell was
placed in his room as master of the arrangements, while poor Darnley, though
living under the same roof (the Castle of Stirling), was required to confine him-
self to his apartments, on the plea that his apparel was not good enough to appear
among the lordly throng at the baptismal font. And this was not all, for the
ambassadors assembled there were forbid to hold conference with him, and the
nobility to wait on him or escort him. Even James Melvil, who had com-
passionated the poor fallen consort-king, and presented him with a spaniel,
was rated by the queen for so doing, declaring that she could no longer trust
him, as he had made a present to one for whom she entertained no affection,

Bothwell was not a man to bear these honours meekly, or content himself
with the love of the queen without sharing in her power. Already, also, he
knew too well her wishes on the subject. She would have divorced Darnley to
make room for his rival, but besides the difficulty of procuring a divorce, tho
legitimacy of her son would thereby have been called in question. No remedy
remained but the death of Darnley, let it occur as it might. Upon this hint
Bothwell vv'as now in action. He sounded the principal nobles upon the expe-
diency of removing him, alleging the queen's consent to that effect, and besought
their co-operation. He spoke to those whose minds were already familiar with
the idea of assassination, and whose power, when banded together, could brave dis-
covery when it ensued, while so many concurred in his design that he thought he
might now prosecute it without scruple. As for the poor victim of these machina-
tions, he had left Stirling ; the queen, at his departure, causing his silver plate
to be taken away, and paltry tin vessels to be substituted in their stead. He
had fallen sick when he was scarcely a mile on his journey, and on reaching
Glasgow eruptions resembling the small-pox broke out over his whole body, and
confined him to a sick-bed. But, in the meantime, the plot against his life
was so fully matured that nothing more remained than to bring him within
reach of his murderer. Mary repaired to Glasgow to persuade him to return
with her, and take up his abode in the Castle of Craigmillar, in the neighbour-

JAMES HEPBURXE (Earl of BoTHV.-iai). 291

hood of Ediiibiirgli, wliere his recovery would be more speedy, and Darnley,
allured by her kind words and relenting endearments, assented to all her wishes.
He had received, mdeed, some obscure intimations of a conspiracy formed
against his life, and been warned that the queen had spoken harshly of him
previous to her journe}'- ; but while she sat beside his bed, and addressed him
so tenderly, all his first love returned, so that he treated these reports as idle
tales. As for Mary, on retiring from his company she wrote a full account
of the whole interview to Both well ; and so completely was the after-tragedy
settled between them, that she alluded to his contemplated divorce from Lady
Jane Gordon and marriage with herself, and besought him neither to be moved
from his purpose by his wife's tears nor her brother's threats. Soon after
Darnle^', not yet recovered, was removed in a litter from Glasgow to Edin-
burgh, not, however, to be accommodated in the princely castle of Craigraillar,
but an obscure habitation called Kirk of Field, belonging to one of Botli well's
creatures ; a place sufficiently within reach of Edinburgh, but lonely enough
for the perpetration of a deed of murder.

So fully was the plan already matured, that Bothwell had false keys made
of the house, and sent to Dunbar for a barrel of gunpowder, that was to bo
placed under Darnley's apartment. Matters now began to look so mysterious,
that some of the king's servants, under that vague inexplicable terror which
often precedes some terrible tragic deed, withdrew their attendance. Not so,
however, the queen, who continued to lavisli upon him every assurance of
endearment, and spent two nights in an apartment adjoining his own. On
Sunday night Darnley was to be no more; and while she was spending the
evening with him in his room upstairs, the preparations were silently going
on in the apartment below ; and at ten o'clock the gunpowder was strewed in
heaps upon the floor, and all put in readiness for the explosion, after which
Bothweli's servant, Paris, a chief actor in the deed, entered the room above,
where the pair were conversing. Mary, only the night before, had caused a bed
of new velvet to be removed from the room, and also a rich coverlet of fur ;
and it was now full time that she should remove herself also. She then called
to mind thai she had promised to be at a masquerade in Holyroodhouse, that
was to be given in honour of the marriage of her servant Bastian, with Margaret
Garwood, a favourite female attendant, and passed onward to Holyrood with
torch-light. When she was gone, an hour intervened before Darnley retired
to bed, during which he entertained his servants, in the full overflow of his
gladness, with an account of the queen's gracious speeches before they parted,
and the hopes of his return to favour and influence. But one part of the inter-
view still strangely haunted him, and marred his triumph. Why had the
queen reminded him that, just at the same time a twelvemonth back, David
Rizzio had been assassinated — that deed of which his conscience told him he
had been the chief promoter 1 111 at ease with the past, and having a gloomy
anticipation about the future, he turned to the Bible for consolation, and read
the 55th Psalm, after which he went to bed, and v/as soon overtaken by his
last sleep.

In the meantime, the return of Mary to Holyrood was a signal to Bothwell
that all was in readiness. After lingering in the hall until about midnight,
when the most wakeful in Edinburgh were usually asleep, he exchanged hia
rich gala dress for a common suit, in which he could not easily be recognized,
stole out of the back of the palace through the garden, and accompanied l^y four

of his servants, went through the gate of the Nether Bow, giving to the sentinel's
question of " Who goes there?" the answer of "Friends of Lord Bothwell."
Between the hours of two and three, a terrible explosion shook the houses
nearest tlie Kirk of Field, and roused the townsmen from their slumbers, while
the assassins ran back to the city, and re entered Holyrood as stealthily as they
had left it. A crowd of citizens, wliom the din had alarmed, repaired to the
spot, and found the house a heap of ruin, and the bodies of tlie king and the
page of his chamber lying dead in a neighbouring orchard. But it was remarked
that neither the corpses nor their night-clothes were scorched with powder, and
that they were too far from the house to have been thrown there by the explo-
sion ; it was evident that other and surer agencies had been at work, and that
gunpowder had been resorted to, merely to mislead inquiry, or make the deed
appear the work of accident. The full particulars that afterwards came out on
trial justified these surmises. Darnley had been strangled, and, as it was asserted,
by the hands of Bothwell himself ; the page had undergone tlie same fate ; and
the bodies being afterwards removed into the orchard, the match had been
lighted that communicated witli the gunpowder. While the crowd were still
gazing upon the ruins, and bewildering themselves in speculation, Bothwell
himself arrived among tliem at the head of a party of soldiers. On returning
to Holyrood, he had gone to bed, that he might receive the expected tidings like
an innocent man ; and when, half-an-hour afterwards, a hasty messenger knocked
at his door, and told him what had happened, he shouted, " Treason!" repaired
with the Earl of Huntly to tlie queen to advertise her of tlie misfortune, and
afterwards passed on to the spot, as if anxious to hoU inquest upon the fact,
and discover the authors of the deed. But he only dispersed the crowd, whose
sharp curiosity he must have felt unpleasant, and caused the bodies to bo
removed to a neighbouring house, where no one was permitted to see them.
That of Darnley v>'as soon after carried to tlie palace; and, instead of an honour-
able funeral, such as was befitting a king-consort, it was carried at night by
pioneers, and interred without solemnity beside the grave of David Rizzio.

As soon as tidings of the murder had readied her, Mary shut lierself up
in her apartment, where she would admit no one to see her but Bothwell, or
hold intercourse witli any of her servants but through himself. According to
the custom of the country, forty days should liave been spent in seclusion and
mourning, with closed doors and windows ; but on the fourth day the windows
were unshaded, and before tlie twelfth she repaired with Bothwell to Seton
Castle, where they mingled in the gay amusements of the place, shot at the
butts, in trials of archery Avith Huntly and Seton, and crowned their victory
with tlie forfeit of the losers, wliich was a dinner at Tranent. In the mean-
time, was any diligence, or even show of diligence, given to apprehend the mur-
derers? Strange to tell, it was not until three days after the deed that such a
step was taken ; and on Wednesday, the 12th of February, a proclamation was
made, offering a reward of two thousand pounds (Scotch?) for the detection of
the criminals. No sooner was this done than every tongue was ready to name
the name of Bothwell. But the bold bad man was too powerful to be accused,
as well as too unscruplous to be provoked, and no one was found so hardy as to
step forth to criminate him. Still it was impossible for the general suspicion
to remain \\ holly silent, and while voices were heard in the darkness of
midnight through the streets proclaiming Bothwell to be the king's murderer,
placards and pictures were affixed on the public places to the same effect. It

JAMES IIEPBURNB (Earl of Dothwell). 2"J3

was tlien only that judicial activity, wliich had hitherto slumbered, was roused
to detect the libellers ; and such of the citizens as could write a fair hand, or
limn a sketcli, were submitted to a sharp examination, while an edict was jDub-
lished denouncing the punishment of death, not onl3' to the writers, but the
readers of these libels. Bothwell, also, alarmed at these indications of public
feeling, rode into Edinburgh with fifty armed men at his back, warning publicly
that he would wash his hands in the blood of these traducers, and clutching the
hilt of his dagger in guilty suspicion when he spoke to any one of whose good
will he was not certain. At length a movement was made to convict him, and
from the proper quarter, by the Earl of Lennox, father of the murdered king.
On the 20th of February he wrote to the queen, entreating that a public assize
should immediately be held on the subject of his son's assassination ; but to this
most reasonable request, Mar^' sent for answer that the Parliament had already
iieen invoked, and that its first business on meeting should be an inquiry into
the deed. Now, be it observed, that this meeting of Parliament was not to
take place till Easter ; and during the interval that elapsed, most of the persons
implicated in the charge were quietly allowed to depart, some to France, and
otlieis to the English border. And all this Mary did, notwithstanding the sus-
picions of her subjects, who had no scruple to charge her as an accomplice in
Jicr husband's murder ; notwithstanding the astonishment of foreign courts, that
could not comprehend her wonderful remissness ; and notwithstanding the
urgent solicitations of Queen Elizabeth, who adjured her to act on this occasion
'• like a noble princess and a loyal wife." In the meantime, she seemed to have
no thought but for Bothwell, and, notwithstanding the general odium, she con-
ferred upon him the command of the Castle of Edinburgh, and soon after that
of the castles of Blackness and the Inch, and the superiority of Leith, as if
eager to arm him against every accuser, and make him too powerful to be pun-
ished.

As the cry still waxed louder for a public trial, it was thought that this
might now be safely granted ; and so late as the 12th of April, the Earl of
Lennox was ordered to compear in Edinburgh, and adduce his charges against
Bothwell. But the accomplices in the crime had been suffered to escape ; the
other evidences had been destroyed ; even the smith who had made the false
keys by which the murderers obtained access to the king's lodging, and who had
anonymously offered to come forward and reveal the name of his employer, if his
safety should be guaranteed for so doing, had obtained no such promise, and
therefore could not make his appearance. Under such circumstances, and after
so long a dela}', the invitation to the Earl of Lennox was the nrost cruel of mock-
erics. The trial was arranged by Bothwell himself; the tribunal was occupied
by one of his friends, and fenced with 200 of his hacbutters; 4000 armed men,
devoted to Bothwell, occupied the streets of Edinburgh, and the castle was under
his command. Thus prepared, the accusing party was wholly'' at his mercy, for
Lennox was required to enter the city with not more than six in his company.
To come under such circumstances would have been to enter into the shambles,
where all was in readiness for the slaughter, and Lennox refused to appear.
But Bothwell himself rode to trial, mounted on the late king's horse, and sur-
rounded by a guard, and fearlessly advanced before a tribunal where he had
taken order that none should accuse him. The trial that foUow^ed was a farce,
in which the criminal had nothing to do but to plead " not guilty," and the
judges to absolve him, which was done unanimously. To wind up the whole

294: JAMES HEPBURNE (Eabl of Bothwf.t.i).

proceeding in the fashion of the age, Bothwell then offered the trial of combat
to any one of his degree who sliould charge him with the late king's murder,
but the challenge was nothing more than the idle blast of a trumpet, for he was
not likely to find an opponent where he had met with no accuser.

After this mock trial, new honours were heaped upon Bothwell by the queen ;
the lordship and Castle of Dunbar were conferred upon him, his powers as high
admiral were extended, and on the assembling of Parliament, two days after the
assize, he carried " the honours," that is, the crown and sceptre before her in
procession at the opening of the House. lie was now the most powerful
nobleman in Scotland, and only one step more remained to which all this
aggrandizement had been but a preparative. He must be king-consort in the
room of Darnley, wliom he had murdered. True, he had been but lately
married to Lady Jane Gordon, and her brother, tlie Earl of Huntly, Avas not
a man to be lightly offended ; but even these difficulties had been already cal-
culated, and tlie plan of their removal devised. The marriage tie was to be
loosed by a divorce, and the brother appeased by the restitution of the Huntly
estates, which had been forfeited to the crown. But to win the consent of tho
nobility at large, whose united opposition could have checked him at any
moment, or crushed him even when the eminence was attained, was the prin-
cipal difficulty ; and this Bothwell resolved to surmount by the same unscrupu-
lous daring that had hitherto borne him onward. Accordingly, on the 19th
of April, the day on which tlie sittings of Parliament terminated, he invited the
chief nobles to supper in a tavern ; tliey assembled accordingly, and when their
hearts were warmed with wine, Bothwell presented to them a bond for signa-
ture, in w^hich they recommended him as a suitable husband for the queen, and
engaged to maintain his pretensions to her hand against all who should oppose
them. Confusion and remonstrance followed, but the house was surrounded
by 200 hacbutters, so that escape was hopeless, and remonstrance unavailing.
The revellers therefore complied with the demand, and the signatures of eight
carls, three lords, and seven bishops were adhibited to tlie bond.

And now nothing but the master-stroke remained. The marriage must be
accomplished without delay, before a recoil of public feeling occurred. But
Mary had been little more tlian two months a widow; and if she should thus
liastily throw aside her weeds, and enter into a new union, the whole world
would cry "shame" upon such indecency ! Even this difficulty had been already
provided for, and that, too, seven days before Bothwell's trial occurred. Cer-
tain beforehand of his acquittal, he had devised, and Mary consented, that he
should carry her off by force, and thus save her the odium of a free deliberate
choice. Even the time and place of abduction were also contrived between
them. Accordingly, on the 21st of April the queen repaired to Stirling Castle
to visit her infant son, then under the guardianship of the Earl of Mar; but the
earl, who seems to have had strange misgivings, would only admit her with two
of her ladies, while the armed train were obliged to remain without. Three
days afterwards she returned, and had reached Almond Bridge, near Edinburgh,
when she and her escort were suddenly beset by Bothwell and 600 armed liorse-
mcn, who conducted her to the Castle of Dunbar. And now events went on witli
accelerated speed. Tlie earl's divorce from liis wife was hurried tlirough the courts
with scandalous haste, the lady being obliged to accuse him of adultery and in-
cest for the purpose. And on the same day Bothwell and the queen returned to
Edinburgh at the head of a numerous cavalcade, the earl leading her horse by

JAMES HEPBURNE (Eael of Botiiweil). 295

the bridle, and his followers throwing away their spears, to show that she was
unconstrained ; and in this fashion they rode up to tlie Castle of Edinburgh.
As soon as tidings of her seizure had arrived, her friends offered to arm for
her rescue ; but to this she answered, that though taken against her will, and
compelled to spend several days in the Castle of Dunbar with Bothwell, she had
found no cause of complaint. This was not all ; for she now presented herself
before the nobles, expressed her satisfaction with Bothwell's conduct, and
declared that, high as she had raised him, she meant to promote him higher
sLill. Accordingly, on the 12th of May, seven days after her return to Edin-
burgh, she created him Duke of Orkney, and placed the coronet on his head
with her own hands ; two days afterwards she signed the contract of marriage,
and on the succeeding day the marriage ceremony was performed in Ilolyrood,
at four o'clock in the morning. And this after three short months of widow-
hood I Well might the people shudder, especially when they remembered the
disgusting mixture of tragedy and farce with which it had been preceded.
And still the nobles were silent under a deed that soiled, nay, besmeared the
escutcheons of Scottish knighthood and nobleness with a universal reproach,
which all the rivers of their land could not wash away. Only one man, and he,
too, a minister of peace, had courage to speak out. This was John Craig,
pastor of the High Church of Edinburgh, and colleague of John Knox, who was
now absent. On being commanded to proclaim the banns between the queen
and Bothwell, he steadfastly refused until he had been allowed to confront
the parties in presence of the Privy Council; and when this was granted, he
there charged the Duke of Orkney' with the crimes of rape, adultery, and
murder. This being done, he proclaimed the banns, as he was bound to do,
but not without a stern remonstrance. *' I take heaven and earth to wit-
ness," he exclaimed before the congregation in the High Church, "that I
abhor and detest this marriage as odious and slanderous to the world; and I
would exhort the faithful to pray earnestly that a union against all reason
and good conscience may yet be overruled by God, to the comfort of tliis
unhappy realm.''

Bothwell had now attained an elevation at which himself might well have
been astounded. Sprung from no higher origin than that of the house of Hailes,
and but the fourth of his line who had worn the title of earl, he was now the
highest of Scotland's nobles, and, what was more, the sovereign of its sovereign.
She to Avhom he was united had been Queen of France, the most powerful of
kingdoms, and was the unquestioned heir to England, the richest of sove-
reignties. She who had been sought in vain by the proudest princes of Europe
had come at his call, and co-operated in humble compliance to his exaltation,
and submitted to be his leman before she became his bride. And yet even this
did not satisfy him ; for on the very day after their marriage she was heard to
scream in her closet, while he was beside her, and threaten to stab or drown
herself, lie persisted from day to day in arrogant conduct, more befitting a
sated voluptuary or merciless taskmaster than a newly-mated bridegroom ; and
Mary, otherwise so proud and impatient, submitted with spaniel-like docility,
Avhile her affection seemed only to increase in proportion to the growth of his
brutality. Strange love of woman's heart ! and strange requital of a love so
misplaced ! She was all the while writing to France, to Rome, and England
announcing her marriage, describing her happiness in having such a husband,
and craving the favour of these courts in his behalf. She even declared before

29G JAMES IlEPBURNE (Earl of BoxinvKii).

several persons that " she cared not to lose France, England, and her own country
for hiin, and would go with him to the world's end in a white petticoat before
she would leave him."

This Fata Morgana had now reached its brightest, and it was time that it
should melt away. The nobles of Scotland awoke as from a dream, and pre-
pared themselves for instant action. It was indeed not more than necessary;
for, independently of the foul dishonour that had accumulated upon the nation
and themselves through the late transactions, Bothwell was now aiming at
obtaining the guardiansliip of the young prince; and under such a custody the
royal infant would soon Jiave been laid beside his murdered father, that a
new dynasty might be planted upon the Scottish throne. In the meantime,
the qtieen and Bothwell were at Borthwick Castle, unconscious of the
gathering storm, until the associated lords, at the head of 2000 men, ad-
vanced and invested the sti'onghold. As resistance was hopeless, Bothwell,
at the first tidings of their coming, stole awa^^, and soon after was joined by
Mary, booted and spurred, and in the disguise of a page. The3'' rode througli
the night at full speed to Dunbar, and there exerted themselves with sucli
activity, that in two days they were at the head of 2500 armed followers, with
whom thoy returned to the encounter. The lords, whose forces now amounted
to SOOO men, advanced to meet them mid-way, and the two armies soon con-
fronted each other at Carberry Hill, six miles from Edinburgli. But very
diflt'ereut was the spirit that animated them, for while tlie insurgent army wa?
eager to revenge the death of the late king, and preserve his son from the
murderer, the troops of Bothwell wavered, and talked of negotiation and com
promise. It was necessary to restore their courage bj' an example of jiersonal
daring, and accordingly he sent a herald to the opposite host, offering the trial
of single combat in proof of his innocence. Instantly, James Murray of TuUi-
bardin started forward as an opponent, but was rejected by Bothwell as being
not his equal in rank. Murriiy's elder brother, William, the laird of TuUibardin,
then offered himself, alleging that he was of an older house than that of his
adversary; but him also Bothwell refused, claimed an earl for his opponent,
and specified in particular the Earl of Morton, the leader of the insurgents.
^Morton, as fearless a Douglas as any of his ancestors, accepted the challenge, and
prepared for a combat at outrance on foot, and with two-handed swords. But
before he could step forth to the affray, Lord Lindsay, the Ajax of the Scottisli
Reformation interposed, with the entreaty that he should be allowed to meet
the challenger, as being the kinsman of the unfortunate Darnley. Morton
assented, and armed him with the two handed sword of that Douglas who was
called Bell-the-Cat. But here Mary interfered : she had no wish to expose her
husband to a meeting with such a redoubted champion, and Bothwell yielded
to her entreaties. His repeated hesitations, when he should at once have drawn
his weapon and marched to tlie encounter, had so confirmed the timidity of
his followers, that already most of them had disbanded, leaving none with him
but sixty gentlemen and a band of hacbutters, while the opposite army were
surrounding the hill, and cutting off the means of retreat. In this emergency,
nothing remained for Bothwell but flight, which the queen earnestly counselled:
she would surrender to the lords, and win them back to their allegiance ; after
which his recal would be easy, and their future course a happy one. After
assuring him of her fidelity, which she would keep to the last, and giving her
hand upon the promise, Bothwell rode from the field, accompanied by a few

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