A house of memories

A HOUSE

OF
MEMORIES

THE REV. ISAAC. HARTILL, D.D

First published in " The Westminster
Record '' and " The Marylebone Record
& West London News." -

PREFACE.

THE pages of this book, which deal with
Sir Isaac Newton's house and its dis-
tinguished tenants, have already appeared
as a series of weekly articles in " The West-
minster Record" and "The Ma>-ylebone
Record & West London News." and to the
Editor. Mr. J. H. Johnson, my grateful
acknowledgments are due. It is hoped that
the issue of the articles in book form will
introduce them to a still wider circle, extend
the appreciation with which they have already
been received, and constitute a permanent
memorial of the great and brilliant memories
of Newton House.

Newton House was one of the historic
landmarks of London, and visitors from other
lands, especially from America, were ac-
customed to include the inspection of the
House in their tour. Houses of much
less historic interest and importance have
been preserved, or purchased for the the
benefit of the nation, and I think that all
readers of this book will agree with me that
the demolition of Newton House was nothing
short of a national calamity. In seeking to
preserve the memories of the House, I am
endeavouring to atone for the loss, and to
render what I conceive to be a desirable, if
not indeed an essential service or contribution
to the literary and social history of the
Eighteenth Century.

On the site of Newton House, and the land
adjoining, the Westminster City Council, at
a cost of £55,000. is erecting a I'ublic Free
Library. This is very fortunate, as the
Library will serve not only to identify the
spot, but will be the most appropriate type of
building with which to perpetuate the
memories of a house so closely associated
with books and great book-lovers.

ISAAC HARTII.L.

9829?!

NEWTON HOUSE IN 1913.

A
HOUSE OF MEMORIES

— BY —

The Rev. ISAAC HART1LL, D.D.

London's geographical centre and
jf real converging point of traffic —
'' the hub of the universe " — cosmo-
politan in population and language —
Theatreland — " the lights of Lon-
don " more brilliant and densely-
massed than elsewhere — the greatest
pleasure-loving area probably of the
world, certainly of England — the ren-
dezvous of the gay, the fashionable,
the dissipated — the resort also of the
eminent in drama, music, art, and
" belles lettres " — such is the Leices-
ter-square of 192(».

Where Newton Lived.

On the south side of the square,
and leading out of it, is St. Martin 's-
street, a short and narrow street
which, crossing the narrow and elon-
gated Orange-street at right angles,
proceeds to the rear of the National
Gallery. It was in this street, on the
left side, and at the corner of Long';-
court, that there stood for upwards
of two centuries the house of which
Macaulay said :" Newton House is
well known, and will continue to be
well known as long as England re-
tains any trace of civilisation."

Although the inevitable demolition
of the house in November, 1913,
seemed to have falsified the great his-
torian's words, vet the words are true

in substance, for England, and indeed
the world, can never forget its in-
debtedness to Sir Isaac Newton and
his many researches and discoveries.
Neither can literature forget its asso-
ciation with Newton House. It may
be said with safety that no house in
London could boast of richer, greater
or more numerous scientific and
literary associations. So inextricably
interwoven was Newton House with
the history of science and literature
in this country that Macaulay's pro-
nouncement must vindicate itself as
true. That so famous a house should
have been permitted to disappear was
nothing short of a national loss. It
\\;is a calamity which the writer,
amongst others, was very anxious to
avert, but the ravages of time and
the requirements of municipal authori-
ties were inexorable, and another link
with the eighteenth century, perhaps
the greatest and most deeply interest-
ing link of all, was destroyed. But
even in their literal sense, Macaulay's
words are not yet entirely falsified,
for Newton House was purchased (by
Hugh Phillips, Esq., Manor House,
Hitchin) with the view to re-erection
elsewhere. Plans and measurements
were carefully taken, and the demo-
lition accomplished with great care
so as to permit of the material being
used again in reconstruction. Upon
new and firm foundations Newton
House would present the same appear-
.iin -f externally and internally as of
old, and would be a long-lasting
Rational memorial to England's
grratest natural philosopher.

.Orange Street Chapel.

Adjoining Xcwton House was the

historic Orange-street Chapel which,
built in 1685, was, for reasons of
public safety, demolished in Septem
her, 191-".. It was the writer's
honourable, but melancholy distinc-
tion, to conduct the last service in
the old building, the oldest Noncon-
formist sanctuary in Westminster,
and a sanctuary endeared to thou-
sands by its unique and interesting-
associations. Its walls had resounded
with the eloquence of great French
orators, and many distinguished En-
glish' preachers, including Augustus
M. Toplad.v, author of the immortal
hymn, ." Rock of Ages." The Chapel
was built in 1685 by the Huguenots
who had been driven from France by
the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
Here in England these Protestant
refugees found hospitality — hospi-
tality which in their quickening and
enriching influence on trade and
manufactures, art and religion, they
more than repaid — and freedom to
worship God in their own way ; and
in accordance with their deepest and
most sacred convictions. The Chapel
thus stood as an earnest protest
against ecclesiastical despotism, and a
plea for liberty of thought and wor-
ship. Its fascinating and romantic
story is as closely interwoven with the
history of religion in England as is
Newton House with our country's
scientific and literary history. Orange-
street Chapel was associated with, in
fact, it might be described as the

" home " of two great Revivals

— the Revi\ al of religion in France
in the seventeenth centurv. when thou-
sands of Catholics became Protes-
tants ; and the Revival of religion in

8

England in the latter part of the
L-ighteenth century, the great Evan-
gelical Revival led by Wesley and
Whitfield. The Chapel had thus in-
teresting and vital Jinks with two
nations. Its history is divided into
three periods : the Huguenot Period
from 1685 to 1776; the Anglican
Period from 1776 to 1787; the Con-
gregational Period from 1787 to the
present. Of the three Periods, the
Anglican, although short, was un-
doubtedly the most brilliant. Top-
lady, who was the outstanding figure
of this Period, drew around him a
great and fashionable congregation.
The worshippers included the Duke
of Kent and the Duke of Sussex.

Xewton House and Orange-street
Chapel stood side by side for upwards
of two centuries. There seemed to
be a peculiar sympathy between the
old house and the Chapel. Changes
of tenants in the one, changes of
denominations in the other. There
were distinct periods in the history
of the house, and there were, as we
have seen, distinct periods in the his-
tory of the Chapel. Vicissitude and
variegated romance were the charac-
teristics of both buildings. Newton
uas a deeply religious man, and not
without sympathy with the exiles
next door who were forced to sing
the songs of Zion in a strange land.
And his sympathy would be all the
greater from the fact that he himself
knew what persecution meant, for it
fell to him as to other pioneers of
sc icnce and discovery to be branded
as an enemy to religion.

Dr. Charles Burney, the most
famous of subsequent tenants, mar-
ried a wife of Huguenot descent, and

9

though, in his days, the Chapel had
passed from the Huguenots to the
Anglicans, his interest in it was con-
siderable, quite apart from propin-
quity, and he and his clever daughters
must often have noticed the stream
of worshippers issuing from the
Chapel. Age seemed to deepen the
sympathy between the Chapel and the
house as if their common vicissitudes
had drawn them together and led
them to lean upon each other for
sympathy and support. Ultimately,
in 1858, the two were wedded under
a common proprietorship, for the
" chapel " purchased its sympathetic
neighbour — the " house." The two
then became partners in a common
cause. Newton House was utilised
for a Sunday School, for temperance
meetings, and other meeting's con-
nected with the Church. In its last
days it became quite a centre of use-
ful agencies, all with a definite Chris-
tian aim, such as Mission for Cab-
men, etc.

Two Buildings Like David and
Jonathan.

True to the last, Newton House be-
came the temporary home of the
church itself, after the demolition of
the Chapel, and was utilised for all
its services and meetings in -the two
months which intervened before its
own disappearance. The sympathy
between the old house and the old
Chapel thus deepened with the years,
and culminated, as it were, in com-
plete identification. The house be-
came the church. May we not say
of these two historic buildings :
" They were lovely and pleasant in
their lives, and in death they were
not divided!"

10

It is believed that Sir Isaac Newton
designed and built the house expressly
for himself. The responsibility for
this belief rests with Fanny Burney,
who says : " The house is a large and
good one. It was built by Sir Isaac
Newton, and when he constructed it,
it stood in Leicester Fields, not
Square, that he might have his obser-
vatory unannoyed by neighbouring
houses; and his observatory is my
favourite sitting-place, where I can
retire to read or write any of my
private fancies or vagaries." In the
early part of the eighteenth century,
London spread little further west
than Leicester Fields, and no doubt
Newton's selection of this particular
spot was influenced by his desire to
have an unobstructed view of the
heavens. Even if Newton did not
design and build the house itself,
there is but little doubt that he planned

and constructed the observatory, which
was placed on the roof. High aloft
there, he told a friend, he had spent
some of the happiest moments of his
life. There his astronomical and
other research work was carried on.
The observatory, which "overlooked
all London and its, environs," was a
glazed turret, a mere framework of
small panes ; with a small fireplace
and chimney, and a cupboard. On the
little landing there was a cupboard
for coals. When, in the autumn of
1774, the famous Burney family had
settled in the house, Fanny Burney
wrote: " We came ten days ago to
this house, which we propose calling
Newton House, or The Observatory,
or something that sounds grand. By
the way, Sir Isaac Newton's observa-
tory is still subsisting, and we show
it ID all our visitors as our principal

11

lion." In the fearful hurricane of
1778, the glass sides of the observa-
tory were completely demolished, and
the leaden roof swept entirely away.
Ur. Burney, in his ardour for New-
ton's memory, rebuilt the observa-
tory. Ultimately, the observatory was
purchased by an American, who re-
moved it to his own country. When
Xewton went to Leicester Fields in
1710, he was already a famous man.
Many of the greatest discoveries as-
sociated with his name had already
been made; his immortal "Principia"
had been published, and he had
attained the Presidency of the Royal
Society. As Newton's career was
full of extraordinary interest, a few
biographical details are here given.
They will enable us the better to
understand the man himself.

Isaac Xewton was born at Wools-
thorpe, Lincolnshire, on December
25th, 1642. His father, Isaac New-
ton, who died a few months before
the birth of his distinguished son, was
a farmer, and proprietor of the Manor
of Woolsthorpe. The boy was sent at
an early age to the village school, and
when he had reached his twelfth year,
to a school at Grantham. Indications
of remarkable talent, especially for
mechanics, soon began to appear in
the boy. His favourite playthings
were little saws, hammers, chisels,
and hatchets, and with these instru-
ments he made many curious and in-
genious things. A windmill was in
course of erection near his home. He
watched the workmen with intense
interest, and then constructed a small
model of the mill, which, on the testi-
mony of one of his friends, was "as
clean and curious a piece of workman-
ship as the original." Isaac was dis-

satisfied with his mill because it
would not work when there was no
wind, and he therefore made an in-
genious addition to it by means of
which the mill could be kept in motion
by a mouse. He also made a water-
clock. The dropping of the water on
a wheel constituted the motive-power
Every morning, on getting out of bed,
the boy wound up his clock by supply-
ing it with the water requisite to keep
it running for twenty-four hours. His
ingenuity was further seen in the con-
struction of a four-wheeled carriage,
which was propelled by the person
sitting in it. With the view to amuse
his playmates, he made a number of
most ingenious kites, attaching to
their tails lanterns of crimpled paper,
which were lighted by a candle, and
being sent up in the evening, filled the
rustics of the village with consterna-
tion and alarm. For the girls, he was
unwearied in the manufacture of little
tables, chairs, cupboards, dolls and
trinkets. His powers of observation,
which afterwards proved so remark-
able, now began to exhibit themselves.
Closely watching the shadows of the
sun, he marked the hours and half-
hours by driving in pegs on the side
<-f the house, and ultimately con-
structed the sun-dial. His construc-
tive genius and powers of observation
were, happily, combined with skill in
mechanical drawing. Although he
never received the slightest instruc-
tion, he could draw so well that the
walls of his room were covered with
portraits of his schoolfellows and other
acquaintances, which he had not only
sketched to the life, but adorned with
elegant frames, all of which he ma do
himself.

Ambition is sometimes a\\akenrd in

13

a youth by a very trifling incident.
Newton's greatness is said to date
from a quarrel with a schoolboy.
Although Newton had conquered and
subdued the boy in the playground, he
had the mortification of seeing him at
the head of the class, while he himself
\vas at the bottom.

He began to reflect. \Yas he en-
titled to regard himself as victorious
oxer his enemy so long as his enemy
lorded it over him in the schoolroom?
Were the plaudits of the playground
to be compared to the plaudits of the
teacher? Were not the triumphs of
mind nobler than the triumphs of
sport? He decided, as the result of
his reflections, that he would conquer
his enemy again, which he ultimately
did, after an arduous struggle, by
taking his place at the top of the class.
When he had completed his thir-
teenth year, his mother withdrew
him from school to assist in the work
of the farm. But Nature never meant
him to be a farmer. It claimed him
for different work. His intellectual
tastes demanded an intellectual occu-
pation. His inaptitude for the work
of a farmer soon manifested itself.
Once a week his mother sent him with
an aged and faithful servant to the
market. No sooner were the horses
placed in the stable than he would
seclude himself in a garret with his
books, until the produce they had
brought to market was sold, and it
was time to return. In summer he
would select some shady nook on the
roadside, out of the market town,
and there await the return of the
wagon .

He was sent sometimes to the fields
to watch the sheep and cattle, but
within a verv short time he would be

14

found perched up in a tree, absorbed
in a book, or sitting on the bank of a
stream deeply interested in the work-
ing of a water-wheel, while the cattle
would be rioting in a cornfield and the
sheep wandering away down a lane.

It required no great prescience on
the part of the mother to see that
Isaac would never make a farmer.
His irresistible passion for study in-
duced her wisely to send him back to
the school at Grantham, from which
in his sixteenth year he was drafted,
on June 5th, 1660, to Trinity College,
Cambridge, where he was satisfied to
spend the next thirty-three years of
his life.

Trinity College was known even in
those days for its special preference
for mathematical work. Algebra and
geometry were part of the course, and
in these and related studies, especial-
ly in the higher branches, and in
their various practical applications,
Newton rapidly distinguished himself.
It was Carlyle's opinion that the best
indication in a youth of superior
understanding is a turn for mathe-
matics. If a boy, in addition to pro-
nounced mathematical gifts, posse>M -
mechanical skill, together with de-
cided powers of observation, there
are good reasons for believing that,
with proper direction and assistance,
he will develop into a first-class man
of science.

The soundness of Carlyle's view is
corroborated by experience. No four
men have done more to increase the
sum of human knowledge in their own
time than Copernicus, Galileo, Colum-
bus and Xewton, and they were all
born mathematicians. All their dis-
coveries were due directly or in-
directly, to mathematics. Combined

15

with mathematical gifts were, in each
case, unusual manual dexterity and
highly-developed powers of observa-
tion. There were other respects, too,
in which these four men resembled
each other. All of them possessed
what is so essential for scientific men
— an amazing degree of patience.
They were all men of child-like sim-
plicity of character, all of them good
citizens and, with the exception of
Columbus, sound practical men of
business, prudent and successful in
the management of their private
affairs. In order to prepare himself
for the lectures at Trinity College,
Newton studied the text-books in ad-
vance, and proceeded to read treatises
and works extraneous to and beyond
the ordinary curriculum. He appears
to have been particularly pleased with
what was then a celebrated treatise
by Wallis, entitled "Arithmetica Infi-
nitorum." The study of this work led
him, in 1663, when he had reached
the age of twenty-one, to discover the
famous formula known as the Binomial
Theorem, a formula which enables us
to find any power of a given binomial
a + b by means of the two terms a
and b, and of the exponent of the
power. It is upon this Theorem,
sometimes called the Newtonian
Theorem that the system of analysis
is principally founded. It seems that
the Binomial Theorem was known to
a number of mathematicians before
Xewton, but they only knew it par-
tially— as far as related to integral
positive exponents. Xewton 's dis-
covery was in the application of the
Theorem to fractional and negative
exponents. Great as were his subse-
quent discoveries, few of them were
greater or more important than this.

16

It was denned of sullicient importance
to be engraved on his memorial in
Westminster Abbev.

Before 1665, that is before Newton
had completed his twenty-third year,
he had established his celebrated
Doctrine of Fluxions, a doctrine asso-
ciated with that branch of mathe-
matical science known as the Cal-
culus. In the physico-mathematical
sciences and in the physical sciences
generally, the Calculus has been of
immense service. Newton did not
write his treatise on the subject until
1 (>()!», that is, four years after his dis-
covery, and unfortunately he post-
poned its publication until several
years later. In this long interval
between discovery and publication,
Leibnitz, the celebrated German philo-
sopher, had been at work upon the
same subject, and announced to the
world his discovery of the Differential
Calculus. He naturally received the
credit of the discovery, and, at the
time, no one questioned his claim to
be the first in the field. But in 1680,
in the October issue of a German
magazine known as " Acta Erudi-
torum," a writer, Fatio de Quillier,
contended that Newton was the dis-
coverer of this new and important
method of calculation. The article
was written in a somewhat offensive
tone, and Leibnitz replied to it in a
subsequent issue of the magazine.
His reply put an end for a time to
the dispute ; but five years later it
\\as re-opened through the publication
by N'ewton of a treatise on Optics.
To this work N'eu ton appended an
exposition of his method of Fluxions,
which he claimed to have invented
as early as 166(5. An extract from
Newton's book was published in the

17

" Acta Eruditorum," and Leibnitz
again asserted his claim to priority of
discovery. Keill, Professor of As-
tronomy at Oxford, declared in the
Philosophical Transactions for 1708
that not only was Newton the dis-
coverer of the new system, but that
Leibnitz had formed his own system,
which differed in a few respects from
Newton's, upon Newton's system.
Leibnitz had not even done indepen-
dent work, but had merely changed
a few expressions and signs in New-
ton's system, and was guilty of
deliberate plagiarism.

Upon this, Leibnitz at once wrote
to Hans Sloane, the secretary of the
Royal Society, charging Keill with
calumny, and asking the Society to
decide the dispute. The Royal So-
ciety appointed a committee which,
after due investigation, came to the
conclusion that there was no essen-
tial differece between the Differential
Calculus of Leibnitz and Newton's
Doctrine of Fluxions, but with regard
to priority of discovery it was beyond
dispute that Newton was in posses-
sion of the secret fifteen years before
Leibnitz. This decision of the So-
ciety only widened the /schism be-
tween the parties, and Leibnitz con-
tinued the quarrel by sending to the
Abbe Conti, who was then in En-
gland, a letter which was meant to
be shown to Newton, and which was
full of offensive expressions. Newton
himself was perfectly willing to ack-
\nowledge the independent work of
Leibnitz, and his claim to the dis-
covery, but he would not concede
priority of discovery. But this unfor-
tunate dispute would have been
avoided if Newton had not been so
modest and reserved. He was. as a

18

matter of fact, one of the shyest and
most modest men of the age, and
positively afraid of the notoriety
which his discoveries might bring
him. It was this dread of notoriety
which led him to keep secret for
years, not only the invention of the
Calculus, but the Binomial Theorem,
and its many important applications.
The great discovery with which his
name is for ever associated — the Law
of Gravitation — was made years be-
fore its publication to the world. It
is true that he communicated to a
friend his solution of the theory of
the moon's rotation round the earth,
but he prohibited him from inserting
his name in connection with it in the
" Philosophical Transactions." " It
would, perhaps," he said, " increase
my acquaintance — the thing which I
chiefly study to decline." Young
men, it is often said, do the greatest
things, and the world's progress is
mainly due to them. Certainly in the
case of Newton, the claim is just, for
some of his greatest discoveries were
made when he was quite a young
man. He was but 23 when he dis-
covered the Law of Gravitation. The
story of that discovery is well known ;
1665 was the year of the Great
Plague, and as it had become neces-
sary to close the L^niversity for a
time, Newton spent several weeks at
home. Seated in his mother's orchard
one autumn day and observing the
ripe fruit falling from the trees, he
fell into a profound meditation upon
the nature of the force that caused
the apple to fall. It occurred to him
that as the power of gravity is not
found sensibly to diminish at the
remotest distance to which we can
ascend from the centre of the earth —

19

for instance, at the top of the high-
est mountains — it was not unreason-
able to suppose that it extended
much farther than was usually
thought. Why not (he said to him-
self) as high as the moon? And
suppose an apple should fall from the
moon — what would be the inference?
It seemed to Newton that the same
force that drew the apple to the
ground might have some influence
upon the moon itself — might, indeed,
keep the moon in its orbit. If this
power or force of gravity retained
the moon in its orbit, Newton conjec-
tured that if might also keep the
planets m the r orbits The gmml
mystery he desired to elucidate was :
Why does not the moon fly off into
space? And why not the planets? If
the planets and the moon are kept in
their respective spheres, what is the
force that retains them? By availing
himself of the astronomical informa-
tion already in existence, Newton was
able to test the accuracy or otherwise
of his mighty conjecture. Through the
labours of Copernicus and Galileo,
the magnitude of the moon, its dis-
tance from the earth, and the force of
the earth's attraction had all been
ascertained, although not with com-
plete accuracy. How indebted is one
man to another, and one generation
to another !

But for the labours of the intel-
lectual giants who had preceded him,
Newton's conjecture might have re-
mained a conjecture. With his noble
modesty and generous appreciation of
the labours of others, Newton ack-
nowledged this. " If," he said, " I
have seen farther than Descartes, it is
by standing on the shoulders of
giants."

20

Newton, by calculating from Kep-
ler's law, and supposing the orbits of
the planets to be circles round the
sun in the centre, had already proved
that the force of the sun acting upon
the different planets must vary as the
inverse squares of the distances of
the planets from the sun. He there-
fore was led to enquire whether, if
the earth's attraction extended to the
moon, the force at that distance
would be of the exact magnitude
necessary to retain the moon in her
orbit. He found that the moon, by
her motion in her orbit, was deflected
from the tangent in every minute of
time through a space of thirteen feet.
But by observing the distance
through which a body would fall in
one second of time at the earth's sur-
face, and by calculating from that on
the supposition of the force diminish-
ing in the ratio of the inverse square
of the distance, he found that the
earth's attraction at the distance of
the moon would draw a body through
fifteen feet in one minute. Newton
regarded the discrepancy between the
results as a proof of the inaccuracy of
his conjecture, and "laid aside at
that time any further thoughts of
rhis matter." He then busied hiniM-lf
with other inventions and discoveries.
Nineteen years afterwards, he found
that, in common with all the English
astronomers, he had been in error as
to the moon's distance from the
rarth. With this error corrected, he
repeated his calculations, and, as he
u;is working them out, he felt sure
that the agreement in results he had
previously failed to find would now be
achieved, and the truth of his mightv
theory would be fully established.
He was so overcome bv emotion that

21

lie was compelled to ask a friend to
complete the figures. When the cal-
culations were finished, Xewton had
the profound satisfaction of perceiv-
ing- that his conjecture was a sub-
lime, demonstrated truth. The whole
material uni verse was now opened
out before him ; the sun with all his
attending planets ; the planets with all
their satellites; the comets wheeling
in every direction in their eccentric
orbits ; and the system of the fixed
stars stretching to the remotest limits
of space.

All the varied and complicated
movements of the heavens must have
been at once presented to his mind as
the necessary result of that law which
he had established in reference to the
earth and the moon.

And so, so simple a thing as the
falling of an apple from a tree had
led to the discovery of the great law
of gravitation as a universal law of
Nature, the most brilliant and valu-
able discovery ever achieved by a
human mind, a discovery by which
scientists have been enabled to solve
some of the most striking of natural
phenomena. Thus it is that genius
proceeds, step by step, from the sim-
plest principles to the most sublime
conclusions.

The Plague of 166'f> being over,
Newton returned from that enforced
vacation, made so memorable by his
great discovery, to the University,
and in the course of two years had
taken his degree, and been elected
Fellow of his college. It was shortly
after his return to the University that
his attention was accidentally drawn
to the phenomena of the retraction of
light through prisms. His experi-
ments led him to conclude that light.

22

as it emanates from the radiating
bodies, is not simple and homogene-
ous, but composite in character.
Nearly three years elapsed before he
returned to his researches on this
subject; but in 1669, being appointed
Lucasian Professor of Mathematics,
and preparing to lecture on Optics,
he proceeded to mature his first re-
sults, and composed a complete treat-
ise in which the fundamental proper-
ties of light were unfolded, estab-
lished, and arranged by means of ex-
periments alone, without any mix-
ture of mere hypothesis. So much
of the science of those days was mere
conjecture, that Newton's method of
submitting everything to experimen-
tal tests constituted quite a novelty.
These optical researches culminated
in Newton's invention of the reflect-
ing telescope. On January llth,
1671, it was announced to the Royal
Society that his reflecting telescope
had been shown to the King, and had
been examined by Sir Robert Murray,
President of the Royal Society, Sir
Paul Neale, and Sir Christopher
Wren. In 1672, Newton was elected
a Fellow of the Royal Society, a
Society to which he was devotedly
attached, and of which he ultimately
became President. He at once com-
municated to the Society the result
of the various optical researches in
which for several years he had been
engaged. No sooner were these. dis-
coveries given to the world than they
were opposed with a degree of viru-
lence and ignorance, probably unsur-
passed in scientific controversy. The
ground of opposition was that most
futile of all grounds, viz., that New-
ton's discoveries were in Conflict with
the theories of light already in exist-

ft

ence, and accepted by scientific men.
But by many masterly and convincing
experiments, Newton was able to re-
fute all objectors.

Pope's well-known couplet, while
it applies to Xewton's discoveries as
a whole, has a special application to
his optical discoveries : —

"Nature and Nature's law lay
hid in night ;

God said, ' Let Newton be,' and
all was Light."

Between 1686 and 1687, appeared
the three books of Newton's great
work, known as the " Principia. "
The first and second books are en-
titled, " On the Motions of Bodies,"
and the third, " On the System of
the World." In this work he em-
bodied the results of his many inves-
tigations, and traced, with wonderful
sagacity, the consequences of the law
of gravitation. He shewed how the
tides were caused by the moon, and
that the effect of the moon's action
upon the earth is to draw its fluid
parts into the form of an oblate
spheroid, the axis of which passes
through the moon. He also applied
the law of gravitation to explain
irregularities in the lunar months, the
precession of the equinoxes, and the
orbits of comets. Very few of New-
ton's contemporaries were capable of
understanding the " Principia," and
it took more than half a century be-
fore the great physical truths which
the work contained were thoroughly
grasped and understood by scientific
men generally. After the publication
of the " Principia," Newton, who had
always taken a great interest in
chemistry, devoted almost his whole
time to that science, and made in-
valuable contributions to the scienti-

24

tic knowledge of the day, particu-
larly with regard to tire, flame,
vapour, heat, and electrical attrac-
tions. In 1687, Newton was one of
the delegates sent by the University
of Cambridge to maintain its rights
before the High Commission Court,
those rights having been attacked by
James II. The following year, New-
ton was elected to the Convention
Parliament. In 1701, he was again
returned to Parliament, but he did
not distinguish himself as a politician.
In 1695 Newton was appointed
Warden of the Mint, and as a recoin-
age of the Mint had been decided upon
Newton's mathematical and chemical
knowledge proved of eminent service.
Great men of science do not neces-
sarily prove efficient men of business,
but in many instances they have done
so. Speculative ability and practical
ability are two different things, and
it is not often that they are combined
in the same individual, and even where
they are combined it is often in un-
equal proportions. The speculative
man is apt to be undecided. He sees
all the sides of a question, and is
so occupied in balancing the pros
and cons that he postpones definite
action. Too exclusive a devotion to
imaginative and speculative pursuits
would seem to incapacitate a man for
success in a business sphere. To suc-
ceed in business a man must be
prompt, quick to arrive at a definite
decision, and then art vigorously upon
it. " The understanding," says an
able writer, " that is accustomed to
pursue a regular and connected train
of ideas becomes in some measure in-
capacitated for those quick and ver-
satile movements which are learnt in
the commerce of the world, and ate

26

indispensable to those who act a part
in it. Deep thinking and practical
talents require habits of mind »o
essentially dissimilar, that while a
man is striving after the one he will
be unavoidably in danger of losing the
other."

44 Thence," he adds," do we so
often find men who are 4 giants in
the closet,' prove but 4 children in the
world.' That witness is true, but
in Newton's case 44 the giant in the
closet " was also great and efficient
in business. So ably did he fulfil his
duties that, after four years, he was
promoted to be Master of the Mint,
and held the position throughout the
remainder of his life. It was a posi-
tion which necessarily brought him
under the notice of Royalty, and in
1705 he received the honour of
Knighthood from Queen Anne.

In 1710 Newton came to Leicester
Fields, and. as we have seen, was at
the zenith of his fame. Although
some of his greatest discoveries had
already been made, the researches he
carried on during his occupancy of
Newton House were of the most ex-
tensive and invaluable character, and
fraught with great results to the
scientific world, and to the commer-
cial world as well, for many of his
discoveries and inventions were
capable of being utilised in the manu-
facturing arts, and had a direct bear-
ing on commercial life. It was in
Newton House that the second and
third editions of the 44 Principia "
were published. Newton appears to
have kept up considerable style in
the house in Leicester Fields, and had
three men-servants and three maid-
servants. His high position and the
exalted position of so many of his

26

visitors rendered it necessary that he
should maintain a good style.

Queen Anne died in 1714, four
years after Newton had come to
Leicester Fields, and with the acces-
sion of the new monarch, George I.,
Newton became an object of consider-
able interest at Court. His immense
reputation, his spotless character, his
eminent services to the nation and to
the world, together with his official
Government position as Master of the
Mint, easily accounted for this closer
introduction to Royalty. But there
was another reason. The Princess of
Wales, afterwards Queen Cons-, rt to
George II., felt a peculiar and special
interest in Newton. The Princess,
who had intellectual tastes, delighted
to converse with him, and found him
able to supply her with information
on many matters which she had been
unable to obtain elsewhere. On one
occasion Newton explained to her a
system of Chronology which he had
prepared for his own amusement. She
was so pleased with it that she re-
quested a copy for her own use. The
Princess frequently declared that she
considered herself fortunate in living
at a time which enabled her to enjoy
the society of so great a genius. The
Princess was not alone in her eager
desire for conversation with the great
philosopher. Nearly all the most
eminent men of the day wended their
way to the house in Leicester Fields
to confer with Newton upon some sub-
ject or other in which they were
specially interested. Amongst his
most frequent visitors were Abraham
De Moivre and William Whiston,
the two most celebrated mathematic-
ians of the eighteenth century. De
Moivre, who was born at Yitry, in

27

Champagne, in 1667, belonged to a
French Protestant family, and at the
Revocation of the Edict of Nantes,
1685, took refuge in England, where
he remained the rest of his life. The
foundation of his mathematical studies
had already been laid in France, but
in London he pursued his studies
much further and received much as-
sistance from Sir Isaac Newton. He
soon became one of Newton's most
intimate and personal friends, and in
recognition of his eminence and abili-
ties was elected F.R.S. in 1697, and
later was admitted into the Acade-
mies of Paris and Berlin. In the
famous contest between Newton and
Leibnitz as to priority in discovery of
the Calculus, the Royal Society had
sufficient confidence in De Moivre's
ability and fairness to appoint him to
be the judge in the matter. De
Moivre contributed a large number of
papers to the " Philosophical Trans-
actions," in many of which he sug-
gested valuable improvements on the
mathematical methods of the time. In
1718 he published the book by which
he is best known, and which is dedi-
cated to Newton, " The Doctrine of
Chances, or Method of Calculating
the Probabilities of Events at Play."
This book, which for a long time was
a classic, was reprinted in 1738, with
many alterations and improvements,
and a further edition, considerably
enlarged, was issued in 1756. Dt
Moivre also published a " Treatise on
Annuities," which passed through
several editions. His great reputa-
tion for mathematical skill and accu-
racy as a calculator is referred to in
Pope's line: " Sure as De Moivre,
without rule or line." De Moivre's
life was quiet and uneventful. He

23

gained a livelihood by teaching mathe-
matics and reading- public lectures on
natural philosophy. His last years
were spent in obscure poverty, nearly
all his friends and associates having
passed away before him. He died in
London on the 27th November, 1754,
at the age of 87.

Whiston had many points of affinity
with Xewton, with whom his associa-
tion was very close. Born in K>o7, at
Norton, Leicestershire, of which his
father was rector, he was educated at
Clare College, Cambridge, where he
applied himself to mathematical study,
and obtained a Fellowship. Entering
into Holy Orders, he was appointed,
in 1694, Chaplain to Dr. Moore, the
learned Bishop of Norwich, from
whom he received the living of Lowes-
toft.

Two years previously, he had pub-
lished his " New Theory of the
Earth," a theory based on the princi-
ples of the Newtonian philosophy.
The work received the praise both of
Newton and Locke, the latter of whom
correctly described the author as one
who, if he had failed to add anything
to existing knowledge, had "at least
brought some new things to our
thoughts." In 1701, Whiston re-
signed his living to become deputy-
professor of mathematics at Cam-
bridge to Sir Isaac Newton.

Three years later, Newton resigned
the professorship in Whiston 's fav-
our. Like Newton, Whiston was
interested in Prophecy.

On his appointment as Boyle Lec-
turer in 1707, he selected as his sub-
ject, "The Accomplishment of Scrip-
ture Prophecies." For several years
he continued to write extensively and
with considerable success, both on

29

mathematical and theological sub-
jects. Doubts concerning the doctrine
of the Trinity, and the definite adop-
tion of Arian opinions, led to his ex-
pulsion from the University, and the
consequent loss of his Fellowship.
The remainder of his life was spent in
incessant controversy — theological,
mathematical, chronological and mis-
cellaneous. On leaving Cambridge,
Whiston settled in London, and gave
lectures on Astronomy ; but the pub-
lication of his " Primitive Christian-
ity Revived," a work in five volumes,
in which he vindicated his Arian views,
brought him under the notice of Con-
vocation, and he was prosecuted as a
heretic, though the proceedings were
ultimately terminated by an act of
grace. Although heretical on many
points, Whiston was a firm believer
in supernatural Christianity, and both
wrote and spoke in defence of miracle
and prophecy. Refused admission
to the Sacrament at his parish church,
he opened his own house for public
worship, and used a liturgy of his
own composition. In 1747, the year
in which he issued his " Primitive
New Testament," he finally left the
Anglican Communion for the Baptist,
leaving the Church literally as well as
figuratively by walking out of the
Church as the clergyman began to
read the Athanasian Creed, a Creed
which Whiston had opposed with
much virulence.

Newton's chronological system,
which had so greatly pleased the
Princess of Wales, did not satisfy
Whiston, who attacked it with vig-
our, and with a certain amount of
success. Whiston further distin-
guished himself by a scheme for cal-
culating longitude, and by his opin-

30

ions relative to the Millenium, ami
the Restoration of the Jews. In all
his opinions, Whiston was very pro-
nounced. He did not seem to realist
that there might be some truth on the
other side, and his intellectual intoler-
ance largely spoilt his career. Whis-
ton is a striking example of the asso-
ciation of a paradoxical bent of mind
with proficiency in the exact sciences.
Although in theological matters he
reached rationalistic conclusions, he
himself was devoid of the rationalistic
temper. It was only in controversy
that he seemed to lose his mental
balance ; with regard to men and to
things generally, he saw them much
as others did, and was quite normal.
He died in London, at the house of
his son-in-law, on August 22nd.
1752. His " Memoirs of My Own
Life," issued in three volumes, de-
serves more attention than it has re-
ceived. It is marked with Whiston's
strong individuality, and is a perfect
storehouse of curious anecdotes and
illustrations of the religious and
moral tendencies of the age.

Another very frequent visitor to
Newton House was the celebrated
Dr. Edmund Halley, mathematician
and astronomer, and whose name is
associated with the great Comet of
1682, the return of which he predicted
would take place in 17.W, a prediction
which was strikingly verified1, and led
everybody to speak of " Halley 's
Comet." Before he was nineteen, he
published a Direct and Geometrical
Method of finding the Aphelia and
Eccentricity of Planets, which sup-
plied a defect in the Keplerian theory
of planetary motion.

By some observations on a spot
which appeared on the sun's disc in

31

July and August, 1676, he established
the certainty of the motion of the sun
round its o\vn axis. His detection of
considerable errors in the astronomi-
cal tables then in use, led him to the
conclusion that until the positions of
the fixed stars were more correctly
ascertained, progress in astronomical
matters was impossible. Finding that
Flamsteed and Hevelius had already
undertaken to catalogue the stars in
the northern longitudes, he undertook
the task of doing similar work in the
southern hemisphere, and in Novem-
ber, 1676, sailed for St. Helena,
which was regarded, although errone-
ously so, as the best station for taking
observations. On the voyage, he
noticed the retardation of the pendu-
lum in approaching the equator; and
during his stay on the island, he ob-
served, on the 7th of November,
1677, a transit, of Mercury, which
suggested to him the important idea
of employing similar phenomena for
determining the sun's distance.

He returned to England in Novem-
ber, 1678, after having registered 341
stars, an achievement which led him to
be designated the "Southern Tycho,"
and secured for him, by express com-
mand of the King, an Oxford degree,
as aiso election to the Royal Society.
Six months later, Halley started for
Danzig, to settle a dispute between
the English philosopher, Hooke, and
the famous Hevelius, relative to the
use of optical instruments in astrono-
mical researches, deciding in favour
of the latter. In 1680, he set off on
a Continental tour, and at Paris made
the acquaintance of Cassini, and, with
Cassini, observed the great Comet of
that year after its perihelion passage.
On his return to England, he married,

32

and fixed his residence at Islington,
where he fitted up an observatory for
astronomical researches. In 1684,
he made the acquaintance of Newton,
and discussed with him the question
of gravitation. Halley himself had
for some time pursued investigations
into this subject, quite independently
of Newton. The astronomer at once
realised the great importance of New-
ton's work, and took a leading part in
the publication of the Principia. In
the following years, Halley carried
out a series of important investiga-
tions on trade-winds and on the mag-
netism of the earth. His ideas on the
latter \vere so greatly in advance of
his time, that it was not until 1811
that they were properly appreciated.
In 170o, he published the results of
his investigations into the movement
of Comets. Appointed astronomer
royal at Greenwich, in succession to
Flamsteed, he made a study of the
motion of the moon, advocated the
method of calculating the distance of
the sun by measurements of the tran-
sit of Venus, and detected inequali-
ties in the motions of Saturn and
Jupiter. Halley died at Greemvish, on
the 14th of January, 1742. His tomb
is in the old graveyard of St. Mar-
garet's Church, Lee, Kent.

It was in the small room upstairs,
the room where he studied and < \-
perimented, that Newton received his
distinguished contemporaries, and
held high converse with them. What
memorable conversations, what im-
portant interviews, they must have
been ! What "a feast of reason, and
a flow of soul" ! Oh, that those walls
had language ! To that room came
Joseph Addison, the great Kssayi.st,
of whose simple, lucid, delicately pre-

33

cise and polished style, Dr. Johnson
said, "Whoever wishes to attain an
English style, familiar but not coarse,
and elegant but not ostentatious,
must give his days and nights to the
volumes of Addison." In the devel-
opment of the essay, the novel, and
of English prose generally, the "Spec-
tator," to which Addison was so
great a contributor, played a most
important part. Addison also had
great conversational powers, and his
intimates speak in the strongest
terms of the pleasure derived from his
society, although it is admitted that
he was extremely reserved before
strangers. To that room also came
Dean Swift who, on his visits to
London, took lodgings within walk-
ing distance of Newton House.
Swift, famous for his "Gulliver's
Travels" and his "Tale of a Tub,"
was one of the most creative and
masculine intellects of his age, and.
despite his wit and satire, a deep and
earnest thinker. Unlike most satir-
ists and wits, Swift is not satisfied in
simply making his readers laugh. To
excite the emotion of the ludicrous
was, with Swift, only a subordinate
purpose, a means employed for quite
another end. He makes the thing
look ridiculous because he hates it,
and wishes his readers to hate it.
Dean Swift was not the only ecclesias-
tic to wend his way to Newton House.
Thither went the famous Gilbert Bur-
net, Bishop of Salisbury, and author
of "History of My Own Times."
Burnet had seen much of the inner
wheels and springs of politics, and
was fond of talking of himself and of
his part in great affairs. His very
conceit, and his almost incredible
want of tact, makes this "Scotch

34

dog," as Swift loves to call him, a
most entertaining gossip. Although
no one would claim that Burnet was a
great writer, he was certainly a very
industrious and useful author. His
"History of the Reformation" is a
voluminous and candid work, while
his exposition of the Thirty-nine Arti-
cles reveals an intimate knowledge of
the lines which separated the con-
tending theological systems from one
another. From his "History of My
Own Times," it is easy to catch
glimpses of his genial temper, of his
loquaciousness, of his good church-
manship, of his love of affairs, of his
bustling self-importance, and of his
large-hearted charity.

Another Bishop who delighted to
converse with Newton was George
Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, whose
writings were among the most re-
markable metaphysical and specula-
tive works which had appeared in
England since Locke's Essay on the
Human Understanding. His "Theory
of Vision," published in 1709, attrac-
ted wide attention, as also did his
"Principles of Human Knowledge,"
issued in the following year. This
was the work in which, as an idealis-
tic philosopher, Berkeley announced
his argument which so annoyed Dr.
Johnson. "I tell you matter does
exist," he said, and banging his hand
heavily on the table, and speaking of
Berkeley's argument, added, "I re-
fute it thus." But the best and most
delightful of Berkeley's works is the
Dialogue, "Alciphron, or the Minute
Philosopher," directed against the
numerous sceptics and deistical
writers of the eighteenth century.
Berkeley's character was not less ad-
mirable than his works.

35

Richard Bentley (1502-1742), the
celebrated classical scholar, and whose
vigorous polemical writing had some
effect upon style, was frequently to be
seen at Newton House.

Bentley was a clergyman, and Mas-
ter of Trinity College, Cambridge,
which was Newton's own College.
In 1726, Bentley published an edition
of Terence and Phaedrus, and his
notes on the comedies of the former
involved him in a dispute with Bishop
Hare on the metres of Terence,
which provoked the sarcastic remark
of Sir Isaac Newton that "two digni-
fied clergymen, instead of minding
their duty, had fallen out about a
play-book." Other notable visitors
to Newton House were Bishop But-
ler, author of "The Analogy of Re-
ligion Natural and Revealed, to the
Constitution and Course of Nature" ;
Dr. Samuel Clarke, famous for his
Sermons on the Evidences of Natural
and Revealed Religion, in which he
expounded his famous a priori argu-
ment for the existence of God ; Sir
Christopher Wren, who was as inter-
ested in mathematics and astronomy
as he was in ecclesiastical architec-
ture ; Matthew Prior, the friend of
Pope and Swift ; John Gay, author of
the "Beggar's Opera" ; William Con-
gre\ e, the Dramatist ; Sir Hans
Sloane, Dr. John Arbuthnot, and Dr.
Mead, the three celebrated physicians
of the eighteenth century ; the Earls
of Halifax, Hurley, Bathurst and
Chesterfield ; Lady Betty Germaine,
and the Duchess of Qucensbury.

It seems that Newton was not the
only attraction. He had a very charm-
ing niece, Catherine Barton, who kept
house for him for sixteen years. She
was such a delightful personality

36

that she was quite a social centre.
"Most of the wits of the day flocked
thither, not to see the philosopher,
and to learn science, but to see the
philosopher's charming niece." Miss
Barton was the daughter of Robert
Barton, Esq., of Brigstock, North-
amptonshire, and Hannah Smith,
Newton's half-sister. After a bril-
liant reign as hostess, she married
Mr. Conduitt, who, in course of time,
succeeded Newton as Master of the
Mint. Mr. and Mrs. Conduitt had a
daughter, who married Lord Lyming-
ton, who inherited his father's title,
Earl of Portsmouth. The Ports-
mouth family are in possession of
many valuable relics and documents
of Newton.

It is said to have been in the small
room upstairs, the room in which
Newton held converse with his dis-
tinguished visitors, and the ir.om also
in which he studied and experimented,
that he lost, by fire, the manuscript
of his work, "New Theory of Light
and Colours." The papers, which re-
presented the work of years, were
ignited through the upsetting, by his
dog, Diamond, of a lighted taper on
his desk. Newton is reported to have
merely exclaimed, "O, Diamond,
Diamond, little dost thou know the
mischief thou hast done!" This inci-
dent is often cited as an illustration
of Newton's calm and unperturbed
manner, but as a matter of fact, his
grief at the loss of such valuable
material was so great that his mind
was for a considerable time very
seriously affected.

Newton never married, but he had
his love affairs, one associated with
his early life, and the other with his
later life. When a boy at school, he

37

conceived a passionate fondness for
the beautiful daughter of a local
physician. He made dolls and doll
furniture for her, and paid court lo
her in many boyish ways. The girl
returned his affection, but Newton's
poverty stood in the way of definite
engagement. When, in course of
time, Newton was in better circum-
stances, the young lady was already
married. Newton quietly accepted
the position, and henceforth regarded
himself as exclusively wedded to
science. But he never visited the
home of his childhood without calling
to see the object of his youthful love,
and when they had both reached four-
score years, he had the pleasure of re-
lieving the necessities of her old age.
His second love affair, in which he
was again doomed to disappointment,
did not occur until he was sixty. Rich
and famous as he then was, he made a
proposal of marriage to Lady Norris,
the widow of an ex-fellow of Trinity,
Sir William Norris, Bart. Sir William
had been Minister at the Porte, and
Ambassador to the Great Mogul at
Delhi. We know nothing of Lady
Xorris, except that she had been twice
married before she became Lady
Xorris. It was a quaint and curious
love-letter Newton wrote to her, and
the proposal of marriage is somewhat
indirect. The letter is interesting as
being Sir Isaac's solitary love-letter.
It began by remonstrating with her
upon her excessive grief for the loss
of her husband. "To be always
thinking of the dead," he wrote, "is
to live a melanchofy life among
sepulchres." He asks her if she can
resolve to spend the rest of her days
in grief and sickness, and wear for
ever a widow's weeds, a costume "less

38

acceptable to company," and a con-
stant reminder of her loss. "The
proper remedy for all these griefs and
mischiefs," he says, "is a new hus-
band," whose estate, added to her
own, would enable her to live more at
ease. He concluded by saying, "I
doubt not but in a little time to have
notice of your ladyship's intention to
marry ; at least, that you will give me
leave to discourse with you about it."
If Lady Norris replied to the letter,
which no doubt she did, her reply has
not been preserved ; but, as the mar-
riage did not take place, we may infer
that the great Sir Isaac had again to
figure in the character of a rejected
lover.

Towards the end of his life Newton,
who was ever a humble religious man,
began to devote special attention to
theological questions. It was perhaps
hardly to be expected that he would
achieve the same eminence in theo-
logical work as he had done in
scientific work. Still, his theo-
logical writings, although not particu-
larly impressive, are characterised by
the same great learning and acumen
which distinguished his scientific work.
His first religious publication was en-
titled "Observations upon the Pro-
phecies of Daniel and the Apocalypse
of St. John." This work is supposed
to have been written before 1693, but
it was not published until 1732. It is
a learned and elaborate attempt to
show the fulfilment of the Prophecies.
Voltaire, who was greatly interested
in Xewton, considered that in this
work Xewton had only said what had
been already said by other authors,
but that was an under-estimate. New-
ton filled in many gaps in our know-
ledge, and all subsequent commenta-

39

tors have been largely indebted to his
labours. Xewton says, "If I have
done anything which may be useful to
following writers, I have my design.
The folly of interpreters has been to
foretell times and things by this Pro-
phecy, as if God designed to make
them prophets. By this rashness they
have not only exposed themselves, but
have brought the Prophecy aJso into
contempt. The design of God when
He gave them this and other prophe-
cies of the Old Testament was not to
gratify men's curiosity by enabling
them to foreknow things, but to the
end that after they were fulfilled they
might be interpreted by the event, and
His Own Providence, not the wisdom
and skill of the interpreters, be thus
manifested to the world."

"The Chronology of Ancient King-
doms," although not free from mis-
takes, was one of Newton's most suc-
cessful efforts. He told Bishop Pearce
that he had spent thirty years at inter-
vals in reading over all the authors,
or parts of authors, which could fur-
nish him with materials for his
"Chronology," and that he had writ-
ten the work sixteen times with his
own hand. Xewton also published
two ether works, "Lexicon Propheti-
cum," and "Historical Account of
two notable Corruptions of Scrip-
ture." Apart from the merits of
these productions, is there not some-
thing grand in the spectacle of a great
and distinguished man of science
applying to religious questions the
same intellectual strength which he
had applied, and successfully applied*
to so many of the problems of the
natural universe? All too often
genius has been allied with scepticism,
find the union of philosophy with reli-

40

gion, as we have it in Xewton, is a
refreshing and stimulating example of
a combination which was never meant
to be dissolved. From a youth,
New ton had been a Christian, and the
capture and permanent retention of
such a mind represents one of the
proudest triumphs of the Christian
faith. Not only was Newton a hum-
ble and firm believer in the great doc-
trines of Christianity, but he possess-
ed, in larger measure than most, the
Christian spirit. Bishop Burnet, who
was never lavish in praise, declared
him to be "the whitest soul" he ever
knew. His Christian spirit was also
seen in his large and tolerant views.
He was absolutely free from prejudice,
and allowed others the same liberty of
view which he claimed for himself.
However widely their opinions differed
from his own, he never judged them
harshly or uncharitably. The perse-
cution of people on the ground of their
religious opinions was abhorent to
him. But although tolerant, he was
not lax, and any irreverent or impious
remark would be immediately rebuked.
In his undergraduate days, he had
broken off a valuable friendship be-
cause his friend had told him an
indecent story. He would have no
fellowship with works of darkness,
and always reproved them. The
astronomer, Dr. Halley, once ven-
tured to speak disrespectfully of re-
ligion, but Newton at once checked
him with the remark, "I have studied
these things; you have not." His
Christian spirit found expression also
in his benevolence. There seemed
scarcely any limit to his generosity.
He placed little value on money, ex-
cept as it enabled him to help the poor,
assist his friends, and encourage

41

various branches of learning. And
all his gifts were bestowed without
the least ostentation or display.

One of Newton's most marked
characteristics and excellencies was
his humility. It was sincere and pro-
found. He never boasted of his dis-
coveries, and it was only under great
pressure from his friends that he con-
sented to make them public. His ex-
cessive modesty, as shown by per-
mitting long intervals to elapse
between his discoveries and their
publication, was responsible for many
protracted controversies and disputes
in some cases as to priority of dis-
covery. Xo better illustration of his
humility can be given than the famous
words he uttered before his decease :
"I do not know how I may appear to
the world, but to myself, I seem to
have been only like a boy playing on
the sea-shore, now and then finding
a smoother pebble or a prettier shell
than before, while the great ocean of
Truth lay all undiscovered before me."
Xewton was pre-eminently fitted for
investigations demanding severe con-
centration and sustained application.
He was a born scientist. He had the
scientific temperament and the scien-
tific temper. Calm and philosophic
in manner, abounding in industry and
patience, free from all bias, eager
only for the truth, he possessed all
the qualities which go to the making
of the scientist. Buff on, who placed
Xewton above all philosophers, and
so intensely admired him that he
always had his portrait before him
while he sat at work, said "Genius is
patience." Xewton's patience was
extraordinary. He ascribed his suc-
cess in interpreting Xature almost
entirely to his patience. Asked one

42

day how he had discovered the law of
gravitation, he replied, "By inces-
santly thinking- about it." His great
powers of abstraction were responsi-
ble for many diverting instances of
"absence of mind." it was no un-
common thing for him on getting out
of bed in the morning to sit on the
bedside for hours, without dressing
himself, utterly absorbed in thought.
Sometimes he would go into the street
half-dressed, and on discovering his
condition, run back in great haste,
much abashed. Often while strolling
in his garden, he would suddenly stop
and then rush rapidly to his room,
and begin to write on the first piece
of paper that presented itself.

He once dismounted from his horse
to lead him up a hill. The horse man-
aged to slip his head out of the bridle,
but Newton, oblivious, failed to
notice it, till, on reaching a toll-gate
at the top of the hill, he turned to re-
mount, and then perceived that the
bridle which he held in his hand had
no horse attached to it. He would
frequently leave his dinner, untasted,
on the table, hour after hour, while he
brooded over some abstract problem,
and ultimately order the dishes to be
removed, not being aware that he had
had no dinner. This forgetfulness of
his dinner was an excellent thing for
his old housekeeper, who often found
"both dinner and supper scarcely
tasted of, which the old woman has
very pleasantly and mumpingly gone
away with." On one occasion, when
giving a dinner to some friends, he
left the table to get them a bottle of
wine ; but on his way to the cellar he
fell into deep reflection, forgot his
i-rr.-md and his company, to which he
did not return.

43

Intending', on another occasion, to
dine at the Public Hall, he started out
in a very reflective mood, took the
wrong- road, walked aimlessly about
for a while, and then returned to his
room, having- entirely forgotten the
public dinner.

Then there is the interesting- story
of a Dr. Stukely, who came to meet
Xewton by appointment. Xewton
was in his study at the time of his
visitor's arrival. Dr. Stukely waited
for him in the dining-room, but in
vain. As it was dinner-time, the
housekeeper brought in a chicken,
meant for Xewton and his guest. As
Sir Isaac did not appear, Dr. Stukely
demolished the chicken himself, and
requested the servant to cook another
for her master. But before the chic-
ken was ready, Xewton appeared, and
apologised for his delay, remarking
as he sat down at the table, "I shall
be at your service after dinner." He
then lifted uip the dish-cover, and
seeing that there was no chicken,
turned to his visitor and said, pleas-
antly, "See what we studious people
are! I forgot that I had dined" !

Manv other anecdotes are associated
with X'ewton, but some of them must
be accepted cum grano salis, and some
must be wholly discredited. There is
the story, for instance, that in his
absent-mindedness, he once took his
wife's finger to press down the lighted
tobacco in his pipe. The two fatal
objections to the story are, first, as
we have seen, he never had a wife,
and, secondly, that he never smoked,
for when urged to do so by his friends,
his invariable reply was, "I never
make to myself necessities."

When once a few anecdotes gather
around a famous man, it is the easiest

44

thing in the world to take stories of
eccentricity or of absence of mind that
belong to others, and ascribe them to
him. But this anecdote can be
vouched for : — When Newton went to
live in Leicester-Fields, his next-door
neighbour was a widow, who was
much perplexed by the little she had
observed of the philosopher. One of
the Fellows of the Royal Society
called upon her one day, when, .among
other domestic news, she mentioned
that someone had come to live in the
adjoining house who she felt certain
was a poor crazy gentleman, "be-
cause," she continued, "he diverts
himself in the oddest ways imagin-
able. Every morning when the sun
shines so brightly that we are obliged
to draw the window-blinds, he takes
his seat in front of a tub of soap-suds,
and occupies himself for hours blow-
ing soap-bubbles through a common
clay-pipe, and intently watching them
till they burst. He is doubtless now
at his favourite amusement ; do come
and look at him."

The gentleman smiled, and then
went upstairs, when, after looking
through the window into the adjoin-
ing yard, he turned round and said,
"My dear madam, the person whom
you suppose to be a poor lunatic is no
other than the great Sir Isaac New-
ton, studying the refraction of light
upon thin plates, a phenomenon
which is beautifully exhibited upon the
surface of a common soap-bubble.

Newton's countenance was rather
calm than expressive, and his man-
ner somewhat lancuid. Until 1722
when he was in his eightieth year,
his health was good. In that year
the first symptoms of calculus dis-
order appeared, but by careful atten-

45

tion to diet and other precautions, he
was enabled to alleviate the com-
plaint, and to secure long intervals of
ease. But on February 28th, 1727,
when on his way to preside at a meet-
ing of the Royal Society, serious
symptoms appeared. After a fort-
night's rest and attention, he seemed
considerably better. On Saturday
morning, March 18th, he read the
newspapers, and carried on a fairly
long conversation with Dr. Mead ; but
at six o'clock the same evening, he
became unconscious, and remained in
that condition until Monday, the 20th,
when, between one and two o'clock
in the morning, the end came, pain-
lessly and peacefully. He was in his
eighty-fifth year.

The death of so great a man, a
man who had enjoyed the rare felicity
of seeing two generations of his fel-
low-men reaping the fruits of his
illustrious genius, created a profound
sensation at home and abroad.

In Paris, the most distinguished
scientists and philosophers of whom
the world could boast, were called
together to hear a eulogy from Fon-
tenelle on the services of the great
interpreter, who had thus, in the
maturity of age, been permitted to
draw nearer to the awful Source of
those Laws of Nature which he had
so long and so successfully expounded
for the instruction of mankind.

The orator was warmed by his
theme and his auditory, and anxious
to illustrate by his eloquence the
splendid discoveries of Newton's
early manhood, he passed over his
juvenile years with the happy com-
ment that "one may apply to Newton
what Lucan says of the Nile, that it
has not been permitted to mortals to

46

see that river in a feeble state." On
Monday, March 28th, 1727, Newton
was buried in Westminster Abbey.
The body had previously lain in state
in Jerusalem Chamber. The funeral
was grand and impressive. The
colfin was carried by the Lord High
Chancellor, the Duke of Montrose,
the Duke of Roxburghe, the Earl of
Pembroke, the Earl of Sussex, and
the Earl of Macclesfield, all of whom
were Fellows of the Royal Society.
Voltaire was among the host of dis-
tinguished men present at the
funeral. Of all the names which
adorn Westminster Abbey, that great
shrine of the illustrious dead, whether
of kings, statesmen, heroes, poets,
or philosophers, no name stands
higher, or is held in greater esteem
and reverence, than that of Xewton.
His grave is near the entrance to the
Choir on the left side. The monu-
ment, one of the noblest and most
symbolical in the Abbey, occupies a
space which had been refused many
times to some of England's greatest
noblemen. Xewton is represented in
a recumbent position, his elbow rest-
ing upon his books. Four youths are
in front, holding in their hands em-
blems of Newton's principal dis-
coveries. One carries a prism, an-
other a reflecting telescope, a third
with an instrument is weighing the
sun and the planets, and the fourth is
employed about a furnace. Xewton
was Warden of the Mint, and as re-
presenting that part of his work, two
youths are seen loaded with money
which had been newly-coined. There
are also two other youths, who hold
a scroll on which there is a diagram
of the solar system. From the mid-
dle of a pyramid, surmounted with

47

a star, rises a globe, upon which,
with a sceptre in her hands, and
weeping, sits a figure of Astronomy,
as Queen of the Sciences. On the
globe itself are drawn such of the
constellations as serve to show the
path of the comet of 1681, whose
period Xewton had determined. The
inscription on this wonderful monu-
ment is as noble as the monument
itself. It is in Latin, of which the
following is an accurate translation :
"Here lies Sir Isaac Newton, who by
a vigorous mind, almost supernatural,
first demonstrated the Motions of the
Planets, the Path of the Comets, and
the Tides of the Ocean. He diligently
investigated the different refrangibili-
ties of the Rays of Light, and the
properties of the Colours to which
they give rise. An assiduous, saga-
cions, and faithful interpreter of Na-
ture, Antiquity, and the Holy Scrip-
tures. He asserted in his philosophy
the Majesty of God, and exhibited in
his conduct the simplicity of the Gos-
pel. Let mortals rejoice that there
has existed such and so great an
ornament of human nature."

Newton was fortunate in the era
in which he lived. Had he lived in an
earlier period, his intellect would not
have had the wide fields in which to
expatiate, or the soil in which to
grow. The spirit of the age gave the
right direction to his genius. That
particular period was remarkable for
scientific achievement and the num-
ber of scientific men. England,
which in Art was far behind other
countries, ran quickly ahead of them
in scientific discovery and attainment.
The spirit of inquiry, the love of in-
vestigation, was intense. Nature, in
all her kingdoms was diligently ex-

48

plored. Among the great names in
Science were those of Boyle, associa-
ted with chemical discoveries ; Sloane,
with botanical researches ; Wood-
ward, with natural history (fossils
and shells) ; Ray, also with natural
history (birds and fishes) ; Wallis,
with mathematics ; Halley, with as-
tronomy ; Flamstead, the first Astron-
omer Royal, and many others. "But
the glory of these men," says Macau-
lay, "eminent as they were, is cast
into the shade by the transcendent
lustre of one immortal name. In
Isaac Xewton two kinds of intellect-
ual power, which have little in com-
mon, and which are not often found
together in a very high degree of
vigour, but which, nevertheless, are
'•qually necessary in the most sublime
departments of physics, were united
as they have never been united before
or since. There may have been minds
as happily constituted as his for the
cultivation of pure mathematical
science ; there may have been minds
as happily constituted for the cultiva-
tion of science purely experimental ;
but in no other mind have the demon-
strative faculty and the inductive
faculty co-existed in such supreme ex-
cellence and perfect harmony."

A mind like that of Newton was pre-
cisely the type of mind that was re-
quired in an age when the search-
light was being vigorously thrown
upon almost every conceivable subject
and object. What was needed was a
mind that could collect all the informa-
tion that was being brought to light
in the various branches of science,
and so to philosophise on these data
as to combine the various elements of
knowledge into one master-thought,
or, in other words, to hit upon a

49

great discovery or invention.

Xewton's mind was peculiarly
adapted for this. It is beyond ques-
tion that others were on the track of
many of his most important dis-
coveries, but either his mind moved
more rapidly, or his inductive powers
were greater than those of his con-
temporaries. He evidently possessed
that little "extra" which as truly
differentiates one man of genius from
another as it does the man of genius
from the ordinary man. Xot only did
Xewton's mind arrive first at the
goal, but the truths he established
were, for the most part, so fully and
finally established, that they have not
been superseded. The work of a dis-
coverer or an inventor is often super-
seded by some later discovery or in-
vention, but Xewton has left posterity
no chance to eclipse his fame. Says
Lagrange, the French mathematician :
"Xewton was not only the greatest
philosophical genius that ever existed,
but also the most fortunate, for we
cannot find more than once a system
of the world to establish."

In the opinion of Sir James Mac-
kintosh, "Shakespeare, Milton, Locke,
and Xewton are four names superior
to any that the Continent can put
against them." Dr. Johnson con-
sidered it "as an eminent instance of
Xewton's superiority to the rest of
mankind that he was able to separate
knowledge from those weaknesses by
which knowledge is generally dis-
graced ; that he was able to excel in
science and wisdom without purchas-
ing them by the neglect of little
things ; and that he stood alone mere-
ly because he left the rest of mankind
behind him, not because he deviated
from the beaten track." "He was nn

50

Ornament of Human Nature," his
inscription says. That is very high
praise. No higher praise could be
given. Yet it is praise to which we
can all aspire, for one great and de-
lightful thing about Sir Isaac New-
ton is that so many of the qualities in
him that excite our admiration and
win our esteem, are qualities which
even the humblest of us may, in some
measure, possess. In the vast reach
and power of his intellectual feats and
discoveries we may be unable to fol-
low or imitate him, but in the simpli-
city and beauty of his character, in
his pursuit of knowledge, in his love
of truth, in his honesty, sincerity and
candour, and in all the other noble
elements of his character, we may all
imitate him.

"Let mortals rejoice that there has
existed such and so great an Orna-
ment of Human Nature."

In addition to the fine monument in
Westminster Abbey on which these
words are inscribed, there is a magni-
ficent statue of Newton in white mar-
ble in the Chapel of Trinity College,
Cambridge. He is represented stand-
ing on a pedestal in a loose gown,
holding a prism, and looking upwards
with an expression of the deepest
thought. On the pedestal is the in-
scription : "Who surpassed all men
of genius." That is a great thing to
say, although perhaps it is not greater
than what Dr. Halley said of New-
ton: "So near to the gods — man can-
not nearer go!" The statue has been
thus described by a poet : —

"Hark where the organ, full and
clear,

With loud hosannahs charms the
ear ;

51

Behold a prism within his hands,
Absorbed in thought great Xew-

ton stands ;
Such was his brow and looks

serene,

His serious gait and musing mien,
When taught on eagle wings to

fly,

He traced the wonders of the sky ;

The chambers of the sun explored,

Where tints of thousand hues
were stored."

In addition to the statue^ there is a
stained-glass window, in which the
great philosopher is represented as
being presented to His Majesty the
King, who is seated under a canopy
with a laurel chaplet in his hand, and
attended by the goddess Minerva,
who is advising him to reward Xew-
ton for his intellectual merit.

In the autumn of 1774, nearly half
a century after Newton, Dr. Charles
Burney, the musician, came to New-
ton House. He brought with him his
three clever daughters, the leading-
spirit being the versatile Fanny, who
was the wonder and delight of her
many friends from Royalty down-
wards, and the most popular novelist
of the day. The Burneys were
tenants for twenty years. Dr.
Burney, while his main interest was
in his profession, was a man of good
general culture, and decided intellec-
tual tastes. He had a weakness — if
weakness it can be called — for the
society of great and distinguished
people, and the very names of the
great appealed to him. In the selec-
tion of Newton House as a residence
Dr. Burney was probably more >n-
fluenced by the fact that Newton, cf
whose character and genius he was

52

ever a great admirer, had lived there
than by any other consideration. It
was a constant source of inspiration
to him to occupy the same rooms
which Newton had occupied. He
was particularly proud of the Obser-
vatory, which he took pains to care-
fully preserve. In Fanny Burney s
"Diary" Anthony Chamier, who was
descended from a famous Huguenot
family, is said to have been very curi-
ous to know which was the room
Newton used as a study, "and asked
me whether it was not our library '
"No, no," said I, "this is quite
superb to the study ; you never saw
such a scene of confusion as that is !"
He also asked Fanny very serious'v
if she did not think that her father's
real motive for coming- to Newton
House was that it had been Sir
Isaac's. Chamier, who was a
favourite with the Burneys, was a
well-educated man, and, what was
uncommon in those days, was a good
Spanish scholar. He was M.P. for
Tam\\ orth, Deputy - Secretary for
War, and Under-Secretary of State
to Lord Weymouth and to Lord
Hillsborough. He figures in Boswell's
Life of Johnson. Dr. Burney kept
"open house," and again Newton
House became the rendezvous of
great people — literary, musical, artis-
tic, political, scientific. It is scarcely
possible to mention any distinguished
man of the period who did not wend
his way to Newton House. David
Garrick was a frequent and most
welcome visitor. So also was Sir
Joshua Reynolds, whose house was
also in Leicester Fields. Dr. John-
son was an occasional visitor, and it
is not difficult to imagine him toiling
up the wide oak stairs, and leaning

53

heavily on the banisters. It \vas
there that he gave that resounding
kiss to Fanny Burner's pretty cousin
-"not a half touch or courtly salute,
but a real, substantial, very loud
kiss, so that everybody was obliged
to stroke their chins to hide their
smiles." A note of Johnson's, dated
Bolt Court, November 17th, 1784,
says — "Mr. Johnson, who came home
last night, sends his respects to dear
Dr. Burney and to all the dear
Burneys, little and great." Johnson
was warmly attached to the Burneys.
"I love all that breed whom I can be
said to know," he wrote, "and one
or two whom I hardly know, I lo-;e
upon credit, and love them because
they love each other." The Burneys,
on their side, were equally attached
to Johnson. To Fanny especially the
great man was an object of intense
admiration and affection. It was
quite the customary thing for Conti-
nental musicians who wished to make
their debut in London to first call ^t
Newton House and furnish Dr.
Burney with some evidence of their
powers. If they could only secure hi*
approval, and especially his praise,
they felt that they would ha\-e
nothing to fear. Among those who
called upon Dr. Burney in this way
was the great Italian singer
Pacchieroti. He was a great favour-
ite with the three sisters. He also
delighted in their company, and on
all his visits to London he made a
special point of renewing his
acquaintance with the Burneys. He
would frequently call to take tea, and
to sing, as he alone could. Pacchie-
roti's broken English delighted
Fanny and her sisters. On one of
his visits he said : "All, all ! very

54

clever girls ! Sense and witta inhabit
here. Sensibility has taken up us
abode in this house. A'l I meet with
at Dr. Burney's house are superior
to other people. I am myself the
only Bestia that enters the house. I
am indeed, a truly Beast!" All he
meant was that he felt himself to be
a stupid person among- so many who
were clever. One day, Fanny's aunt
came to Newton House to tea, "in
hopes that she would meet with no
foreigner, as I had told her that we
had seen Merlin, Piozzi, and Baretti,
all so lately. However, our tea
things were not removed, when we
were alarmed by a rap at our door,
and who should enter but that prince
of singers, Pacchieroti, and his
treasurer, Bertoni. I leave you to
guess who was charmed, and who
looked blank. They stayed with us
full three hours." Pacchieroti had a
grievance against R. B. Sheridan,
who had failed to pay him for -^n
appearance he had made at the opera.
Sheridan was notorious for his
neglect to pay the salaries of actors
and singers whom he engaged.
Pacchieroti wrote in Newton House
an angry letter to Sheridan, "the
object of my particular despise."
The letter concluded with a sketch of
Sheridan dangling from a gallows.
It was only Susan Burney's earnest
persuasion that stopped him from
sending that letter. Dr. Burney,
with the assistance of his daughter
Hettie, who was a gifted player on
the harpsichord, frequently gave
concerts at Newton House, and very
interesting and charming occasions
these concerts proved to be. A few
intimate friends were invited, fo-
gcthcr with people well known :n

55

Society, and in public life. Distin-
guished foreigners visiting London,
and who were the talk of the town,
were also invited. Signora Agujari,
a famous Italian singer, La Gabrielli,
also a great vocalist, Prince Orloff of
Russia, a giant in stature and with
his breast emblazoned by massive
diamonds, together with many other
Continental notabilities, appeared in
Dr. Burney's drawing room. Mrs.
Thrale, wife of the wealthy Streatham
brewer, and patroness and friend of
Johnson, was present on one of these
musical evenings, as also was John-
son himself. Piozzi was at the piano,
and Mrs. Thrale, who had no appre-
ciation of music, stood behind him
and mimicked his movements to the
suppressed merriment of the com-
pany. She little imagined that the
time would come when she would b^
the wife of that particular musician.
To the astonishment of all her friends
and the indignation of many, on the
death of Mr. Thrale, she became Mrs.
Piozzi. At one of Dr. Burney's
parties there were present, in addi-
tion to several dignitaries of the
Church, Lord Mulgrave, Lord Bruce,
Lord and Lady Edgcombe, Lord
Barrington (from the War Office),
Lord Sandwich (from the Admiralty),
Lord Ashburnham, and the French
and Russian Ambassadors. Coroneted
coaches blocked up St. Martin's
Street.

The voluminous reminiscences of
the period afford us a glimpse of the
delightful hours which must have
been spent in Dr. Burney's famous
salon. It is remarkable that a man
of Dr. Burney's social position, living
in a modest house, and with only a
small professional income, should

56

have gathered around him such a
host of great people. No man of the
time was brought into contact with
so many distinguished people in all
walks of life as was Dr. Burney.

The three sisters, Hetty, Fanny
and Susan, were always present at
these receptions and private parties,
but, with the exception of Hetty, who
inherited her father's musical tastes,
were there to be seen and not heard.
Fanny, fragile in appearance, gentle
and timid in manner, had no musical
gifts, and Mas much too shy to en-
gage in conversation, especially with
such great folk. But she was very
observant, and the various characters
she saw, from the truly great man to
the mere society fop, made lasting
impressions on her quick active mind.

For some of the characters she met
she had little or no respect, either be-
cause of their pompous manner and
vanity, or the shallowness of their
conversation, but for others she had
unbounded admiration. It was this
unique and unparalleled opportunity
to mingle with so many great and
famous people, as well as with people
who were neither great nor famous,
which constituted the best and most
\;iluable part of Fanny's education,
;ind laid the foundation of her career
as a novelist. When she came to
write novels, she had not to create
or imagine characters, but simply to
portray characters whom she had
actually met. It is not difficult to
identify certain characters in her
novels with individuals whose ac-
quaintance she had made in the world
of gveat people, and the literary,
musical and artistic coterie which
Assembled in her father's drawing
room. Fannv's early education had

57

been singularly neglected. She was
ten before she could read, but the
poxxer to read was soon accompanied
with the love of books, and she was
permitted to browse in her father's
large and miscellaneous library. It
was strange that a man of Dr.
Burney's attainments should have
shoxvn such indifference to Fanny's
education, and hax~e been so en-
grossed with his professional duties,
with authorship, and with social en-
gagements, that he could not find
time for the training of a mind of
unusual poxver, which would have
been so responsive to instruction.
And the xvonder is increased xvhen xve
remember that Fanny xvas her
father's idol, and that he must have
known hoxv essential a good educa-
tion would be to her as a girl likely
to move in influential circles and to
mingle xvith the intellectually great
and famous. His musical pupils xvere
so numerous that he xvas kept inces-
santly busy, "passing from scholar
to scholar, and dining in his coach on
the road." Fanny was, hoxvexer,
taught to write by one of his sisters,
and her writing propensities and gifts
soon began to shoxv themselves. Her1
mother — for Dr. Burney had married
again — strongly lectured her upon
her scribbling propensities, xvhich she
regarded as pernicious, and Fanny
for a time, gave up the habit. She
burned her manuscripts, and took to
needlexvork. But her love of the pen
soon reasserted itself, and more
powerfully than before. Surrepti-
tiously for the most part, she spent
much of her spare time in writing,
and members of the family did not
knoxv the definite \vork on which she
was engaged. That wcrk was a

58

novel entitled "Evelina, or a Young
Lady's Entrance into the World."
In 1778 it was ready for publication.
The circumstances attending its pub-
lication were somewhat similar to
those which in a later generation at-
tended the publication of "Jane
Eyre." "Evelina" was published
anonymously, the name of the writer
being withheld even from the
publisher. Fanny's joy amounted to
esctasy when she received the news
that her manuscript was accepted,
and that she was to receive £30 for
it. The success of the book was ex-
traordinary, and was as immediate as
it was immense. As in the case of
"Jane Eyre," speculation was every-
where rife as to the author. All
kinds of guesses were made, and the
book was attributed to some of the
greatest names of the period. The
reviews were of the most eulogistic
description, and it was clear that a
new star had arisen in the literary
firmament. When it became known
— for the secret could not be long
kept — that the author was neither a
famous man nor a famous woman,
but a young girl, "a modest shrink-
ing little body," the admiration and
the wonder grew. Fanny found her-
self famous, and stepped at once into
a foremost place in the literary world
of the day. It introduced her to
brilliant society as well as to the
fuller notice of Dr. Johnson, Burke,
Reynolds, Gibbon, Sheridan, and
many others, all of whom eulogised
her work. She had known some-
thing of the Johnson set before the
issue of "Evelina," but now she se-
cured introduction to Mrs. Thrale,
nnd a host of notable people. Dr.
Btirney, his wife, and family were

59

almost overcome with joy at the
literary success of their daughter.
Johnson was so charmed with
"Evelina" that he "got it almost by
heart, and mimicked the characters
with roars of laughter." Sir Joshua
Reynolds took it up at table, and be-
came so absorbed in it that he had
to be fed with a spoon while reading,
and both he and Burke sat up over it
all night.

It should be remembered that
novels were very lightly esteemed in
those days. Such novels as existed
were, with few exceptions, either ex-
tremely silly or very coarse, and
there was little demand for them. It
was a discreditable thing to be seen
reading a novel, and still more dis-
creditable to write one. This state of
opinion with regard to the novel was
probably largely responsible for the
secrecy which Miss Burney observed
as to the publication of her book.
Lord Macaulay says of "Evelina":
"It was the first tale written by a
woman and purporting to be a picture
of life and manners, that lived or
deserved to live. It took away re-
proach from the novel."

The enormous success of " Eve-
lina " encouraged Fanny to make an-
other attempt, and she was, indeed,
urged to do so by a host of friends
and acquaintances . Her second
novel — published four-and-a-half
years after the appearance of
" Evelina," and for which she re-
reived two thousand guineas from
her publisher was entitled " Cecilia,"
or " Memoirs of an Heiress." It was
a larger book than its predecessor,
and altogether more ambitious and
complex, and was regarded by Miss
Burney 's contemporaries as splen-

60

didly fulfilling the promise of her first
novel. No book of the clay \vas more
discussed or more admired. Among
her many eulogists upon this effort
\vas Burke, who wrote: " In any age
distinguished by having produced
extraordinary women, I hardly dare
to tell you where my opinion would
place you among women." The
pompous and somewhat elaborate
style observable in certain passages
in " Cecilia " led to the rumour that
she had been assisted by the great
Johnson. Johnson's influence over
Miss Burney was undoubtedly great,
and had been steadily increasing — she
was his pet and he was to her the
greatest of the great, and it is possi-
ble that, consciously or unconsciously,
she had imitated his style, but
" Cecilia " was entirely her own
creation. The success of " Cecilia,"
a success as great as that of " Eve-
lina," firmly established her reputa-
tion. A new and unexpected develop-
ment now took place in Miss Bur-
ney's life. Through the society to
which her father's fame, together
with her own, had introduced her, she
was offered the position of Second
Keeper of the Robes of the Queen,
and under her father's advice, and at
his earnest request, she accepted it.
This was in July, 1786, and for five
years she held the position, to which
a good, though not great, salary was
attached. But the duties were dis-
tasteful to her. There was no scope
for her mental powers and she was
very unhappy. Her health began to
.suffer, and \vas in fact nearly ruined.
Much to the sorrow and disappoint-
ment of her father, who had regarded
his daughter's position in the Royal
Household with pride, and as a great

61

acknowledgment of her merit and of
his own, she resigned. Uncongenial
as the duties were, she appears to
have faithfully discharged them, and
her resignation was accepted by the
Queen with deep regret and astonish-
ment. A pension of £200 per year
was granted to her. Two years after
her retirement from the Royal House-
hold, Miss Burney, who had rejected
•Hvtral suitors, married General
D'Arblay, a French emigre. Miss
Burney was forty-one, and her hus-
band, who appears to have been a
kind and most estimable man, " a
Chevalier by character as well as by
birth and by the Order of St. Louis,"
was of nearly the same age. He was
poor, his pay as an officer of the
French Army having been stopped,
and his property seized and sold by
the Convention in France. Madame
D'Arblay had her pension. General
D'Arblay 's military career was some-
what distinguished. He had served
in the French Artillery from thirteen
years of age. The regiment to which
he belonged was in the command of
the Comte de Narbonne, who for a
short time was War Minister to
Louis XVI. General D'Arblay served
on the War Committee, was Adju-
tant-General to La Fayette, and Com-
mander of Longwy. He was a Knight
<)f St. Louis, of the Legion of Hon-
our, and of the Legion of Fidelity —
a Bourbon Order. Madame D'Arb-
lay's married life was very happy.
For ten years she resided in France,
and her husband was restored to his
rank. There was one child of the
marriage — Alexander — and it was
possibly with the education of this
child in view that, in 1796, she pro-
duced a third novel, " Camilla." For

62

this she received three thousand
guineas, but " Camilla " did not add
much to her fame. Still less did
" The Wanderer," published in
1814. Although her later works
were inferior to her earlier ones,
there can be no doubt that as a
novelist, Fanny Burney is at least the
equal, if not the superior, of Field-
ing, Smollett, and Richardson, the
great novelists of the 18th Century.
Her novels are all in good taste.
There is not much passion — all her
love scenes are prosaic — but there is
plenty of good sense and correct
feeling. Her power lies — and in this

she has rarely been equalled — in the
vivid and faithful portrayal of the
manners of the period. She is at her
best in painting the characters in a
drawing room, " showing up" a
party of vulgarly genteel persons, and
in depicting the follies and absurdi-
ties that float on the surface of
fashionable society. Her delicious
drollery, rich humour, fine sarcasm
and scorn are manifest on every
page. Society has greatly changed
since her day, and the glory of cer-
tain fashionable centres she describes,
such as Marylebone Gardens and
Ranelagh, has long since departed,
but there is so much to amuse, inter-
est and instruct the reader that the
permanence of her work is secured.
Madame D'Arblay herself lived long
enough to know the judgment passed
upon her work by two generations.
The fame of some authors is entirely
posthumous, and others do not live
sufficiently long to know whether
their productions are ephemeral or
permanent, but Madame D'Arblay,
by writing early in life, and then liv-
ing on io a very advanced age, had

63

the exceptional experience of know-
ing- the verdict passed by posterity on
her work. That verdict was far from
an unfavourable one. In her old age
Madame D'Arblay published

" Memoirs of Dr. Burney," but the
book was not a success. Not only
were there many inaccuracies due to
the fact that she relied largely upon
her memory, which age had natur-
a'ly impaired, but the style was much
inferior to that of her earlier years,
and was probably influenced by her
years of residence in France. Madame
D'Arblay outlived both her husband
and her son. The former died in
1813, and the latter in 1837. The
death of her son, especially, was a
great sorrow, from which she never
recovered. His life was full of high
promise. Born at Bookham in 1794,
Alexander D'Arblay obtained the Tan-
creel Scholarship in 1813, was tenth
Wrangler in 1813, and became Fel-
low of Christ's College, Cambridge.
He took Orders, and in 1836, the
year before his death, was appointed
Incumbent of Ely Chapel, Holborn.

Madame D'Arblay outlived her son
three years, dying in London on
January 6th, 1840 — a day she had
specially kept for forty years in
memory of her beloved sister Susan,
who had died on January 6th, 1800.
She was buried in the church yard of
Walcot, near Bath, by the side of her
husband and of their dear and only
son. Two years after Madame
D'Arblay 's death, her " Diary and
Letters " were issued, and added so
greatly to her fame that her reputa-
tion now rests as much upon that
work as upon her novels. Not only
are the " Diary and Letters," excep-
tionally interesting and entertainieg,

64

but they are invaluable for the light
they throw on the leading figures of
Dr. Johnson's set, on the French
emigres, and on the Court of George
III.

Although much of the work is
taken up with unimportant details and
private gossip, its clever sketches of
Society and Court manners, the anec-
dotes of Johnson, Burke, Reynolds,
and others, and its high literary
merit, combine to constitute it a
memorable work, and give to its au-
thor a permanent and distinguished
position in the literary annals of her
country. In the opinion of Sir Leslie
Stephen, " the description of Mrs.
Thrale, Johnson, and Boswell himself
rival Boswell's own work, and the au-
thor herself with her insatiable de-
light in compliments — certainly such
as might well turn her head — her
quick observation, her lively garru-
lity, her effusion of sentiment, rather
lively than deep, but never insincere,
her vehement prejudices corrected by
flashes of humour, is always interest-
ing." It was from Fanny Burney's
pen that the public first learnt " how
gentle and enduring Johnson's de-
portment could be." " Why did not
Sir Joshua Reynolds paint Dr. John-
son when he was speaking to you? "
asked a mutual friend of Fanny one
day. Had Sir Joshua Reynolds done
so, Dr. Johnson's countenance would
have appeared much more gentle and
benignant. It is easy to understand
how Johnson found balm for his irri-
table nerves in intercourse with his
gentle young friend, and that even
her silence — for she was often silent —
was restful to him. Her society was
immensely congenial to Johnson. It
had in it, he says, " every engaging

65

expression of modesty, and of intelli-
gent observation." It was to John-
son's friendship with the Burneys
that we owe many charming passages
in the " Diary " of his " talk," and
get glimpses of his geniality which
were not seen, or at least not so fully
seen, by either Boswell or Mrs.
Thrale. " Madam," said Boswell to
Fanny Burney, " you must give me
some of your choice little notes of the
Doctor's ; we have seen him long
enough upon stilts. I want to show
him in a new light. Grave Sam, and
great Sam, and solemn Sam, and
learned Sam, all these he has ap-
peared over and over. Now I want to
entwine a wreath of the Graces across
his brow; I want to show him as gay
Sam, agreeable Sam, pleasant Sam."
Fanny Burney 's two brothers,
James and Charles, greatly distin-
guished themselves, though in widely
different ways. James Burney was a
typical son of the sea, with all the fin-
est qualities of the British sailor.
Charles, who was named after his
father and was a little younger than
James, developed into one of the
greatest classical scholars of his time,
but with no interest outside his
classical studies. The contrast be-
tween the brothers was remarkable.
In June, 1804, the poet Southey who
knew both brothers well, tells Coler-
idge of a dinner which had been held
at Mr. Sotheby's where he had met
some " lions," among whom, he
says, was Dr. Charles Burney, the
younger, who, after a long silence
broke out into discourse upon the pro-
perties of the conjunction ' quam."
Except his quamical knowledge \vhich
is as profound as you will imagine,
he knows nothing except biblio-

66

graphy, or the science of title pages,
impresses and dates. It was a relief
to leave him, and find his brother,
Captain Burney, at Rickman's, smok-
ing after supper, and letting out puffs
at one corner of his mouth, and puns
at the other." Southey and Captain
Burney had a common friend in Mr.
Rickman, who was secretary to the
Speaker of the House of Commons.

James Burney went to sea at ten
years of age. The little education he
had was given him by Eugene Aram,
who was hanged at York in 1759, for
a murder committed fourteen years
before. Hood's poem, " The Dream
of Eugene Aram," was founded upon
Captain Burney 's recollections of how
the gentle usher paced the playground
at Lynn, arm-in-arm with one of the
boys, talking of strange murders, and
how he himself had shuddered on
seeing Aram taken to prison with
" gyves " or handcuffs on his wrist.
Captain Burney endured many hard-
ships, and engaged in many naval
battles. His life was full of adven-
ture. He was associated with Cap-
tain Cook at the time when Cook met
his untimely death, and took some
share in the compilation of the Nar-
rative of Cook's Voyages. When on
land, Rear-Admiral Burney, for that
is what he ultimately became, had a
delightful life — in youth with John-
son and the Club ; in age with
Charles Lamb, Tom Hood, William
Hazlitt, Southey, Wordsworth, and
Coleridge. It was to Wordsworth
that Lamb wrote in 1822: " Every
departure destroys a class of sym-
pathies. There's Captain Burney
gone! What fun has Whist now?
What matters it what you lead if you
can no longer fancy him looking over

67

you? " Captain Burney had written
a book on Whist, which went through
several editions. He died in 1821.
H. Crabb Robinson wrote: " He was
a fine old man, a humorous old man —
a character, a fine, noble creature,
with a rough exterior, as became the
associate of Captain Cook."

It is interesting to read what Fanny
Burney thought of her brother
James. Writing under date, Decem-
ber 20th, 1769, she says: " My dear
brother has now been home these
three weeks, and my beloved father
daily appears more and more kind
and affectionate to this dear brother,
and we are now all happily settled.
James's character appears the same
as ever — honest, generous, sensible,
unpolished ; always unwilling to take
offence, yet always eager to resent it ;
very careless, and possessed of an un-
common share of good nature ; full of
humour, mirth and jollity ; ever de-
lighted at mirth in others, and happy
in a peculiar talent of propagating it
himself. His heart is full of affection
for us. — I sincerely believe he would
perform the most difficult task which
could possibly be imposed on him, to
do us service. In short, he is a most
worthy, deserving creature, and we
are extremely happy in his company,
though he complains that we use him
very ill, in making engagements in
which he cannot join from ignorance
of the parties, but 'twas unavoidable.
Fate and Necessity."

Charles Burney, D.D., the second
son of Dr. Burney, was born in 1757
at King's Lynn, and received his
education at Charterhouse School,
and the Universities of Cambridge
and Aberdeen, He was for some
time engaged in an Academy at High-

68

gate, and afterwards became assis-
tant to Dr. Rose, the translator of
Sallust at Chiswick, whose daughter,
he married in 1783. From 1783 to
1800, he contributed numerous classi-
cal articles to the Monthly Review,
of which Dr. Rose \\1as the editor.
His dissertations in the Review on
Person's Hecuba, and Wakefield's
Diatribe were enthusiastically praised
by the most eminent of Greek
scholars of the day. In 1786, Dr.
Burney opened a school of his own
at Hammersmith. Here he amassed
considerable wealth, and remained
till 1793, when he established a
school at Greenwich. In 1813, he
resigned in favour of 'his son, the
Rev. Charles Parr Burney, after-
wards known as an author. Dr.
Burney took orders late in life, and
was appointed Rector of Cliffe in
Kent, and of St. Paul's Deptford,
while carrying on his school at Green-
wich. He was also appointed chap-
lin to the King, and shared his
father's and his sister's intimacy
with the Court. The Prince Regent
accepted from him his father's bust,
and remarked that it was curious for
the father to be the best judge of
music, and the son the best Greek
critic of the Kingdom. He died of
apoplexy at Deptford, on December
28th, 1817. Dr. Burney published
an Appendix to Scapula's Greek
Lexicon from the MSS. of Dr. As-
kew ; a valuable edition of the Choral
Odes of ^schylus, the Greek trage-
dian ; the Greek Lexicon of Phile-
mon ; Remarks on the Greek verses
of Milton — a criticism which estab-
lishes that Dr. Johnston said of
Milton's Latin, that they are not
secure ag*ainst a stern grammarian ;

69

an Abridgment of Pearson's Exposi-
tion of the Creed ; a sermon preached
at St. Paul's, and for private circu-
lattion, a small impression of the
Latin Epistles of Dr. Bentley and
other learned scholars. Burney's
classical writings, however, were not
equal to the reputation he enjoyed in
his own day, when it was usual to
class him with Porson, the great
Greek scholar and with Parr, as
forming the three greatest English
representatives of Greek Scholarship.
The latter years of Dr. Burney's
life were devoted to the accumulation
of his vast, and from its systematic
completeness, most valuable library.
On his death, his representatives, to
prevent the dispersal of these
treasures, and to provide for his
family, suggested to Parliament that
the whole should be purchased for
the benefit of the nation. A Com-
mittee recommended the purchase at
£14,000. After a spirited debate in
the House of Commons, in which Sir
James Mackintosh declared that the
restoration of a single passage in
Demosthenes was alone worth the
sum in the eyes of a free nation, it
it was agreed to purchase for
,€13,500, and the Collection to be de-
posited in the British Museum. Its
contents were thus classified by the
Committee of the House of Commons
appointed to report on it : — (1) The
printed books numbered from 13,000
to 14,000, and consisted mostly of
classical editions bought by Burney
lat sales, begining with that of the
Pinelli collection. The margins are
covered with notes in Burney's hand,
in addition to those by Bentley,
Markland, Stephanus, and others.
The volumes were so arranged that

70

the state of the classical texts could
be seen from their first known pro-
duction to their latest change. The
editions of the leading classics,
especially the Greek Tragedians, ex-
ceed in number those in the British
Museum before the accession of the
former. (2) The Manuscripts in-
cluded the Townley Homer, con-
sidered to be of the 13th century, and
valued by the commissioners at
£1,000; and the Manuscripts of the
Greek Orators, assigned respectively
to the 13th and 15th centuries. (3)
A collection of newspapers from 1603.

(4) A collection of from 300 to 400
volumes in quarto, containing
materials for a history of the Stage.

(5) Theatrical prints from the time
of Queen Elizabeth. There were
other members of the Burney family
who possessed very considerable
talent in various ways, but sufficient
has been said to show that the Bur-
neys constituted one of the most dis-
tinguished families of the 18th cen-
tury. In the social and intellectual
life of that period they played a very
conspicuous part, and they played it
pleasantly and well. Of Dr. Charles
Burney, the father of these gifted
sons and daughters, Sir William
Jones said — and it is a commendation
of which any man may be proud :
"Dr. Burney gave dignity to the
character of the modern musician,
by joining to it that of the scholar
and philosopher." In all the rela-
tions of life, Dr. Burney was most
exemplary. His manners had all the
graces of the Chesterfield school with-
out any of its formality, or vicious
alloy of moral and religious laxity.
As a musician, too, and especially ;is

71

a composer, his merits and claims
are unquestionably high.

It will be seen from these pages
that Xewton House, with its famous
tenants and the host of great people
who gathered and held high converse
within its walls, is indeed 'A House
of Memories' — of great and brilliant
Memories. If we take the three out-
standing names of the House and the
Chapel, Xewton, Burney, Toplady,
we see that they represent respec-
tively, Science, Literature, Religion.
And these three agree in one , for
Science and Literature are but the
handmaids of Religion.

THE END.

Printed and Published by
J. H. JOHNSON, LTD..
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