Men who have risen : a book for boys

L. P. SHIDY

x

Si y

MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

ENTERED according to Act of Congress in the year 1859, by
W. A. TOWNSEND it CO.,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Conrt of the United States for the Southern
District of New Yoik.

W. II. TIMSON, Stereotypcr.

THE ROTHSCHILDS TIIK IIF.ITBLICAN SOLDIERS.

' He did noi attempt to conceal any of bis own property. Hi suffered tbtm to carry it a'.l off.-'
FAGK 49.

\V. A. TOT\rXSEXD & COMPANY.
1861.

UH

CT/07

IN MEMORIAM

CONTENTS.

PAGE.
Stephenson, The Railway Pioneer, 7

The Beginning of the Rothschilds, 48

The rise of the Peel Family, 53

Wilson, the Ornithologist, 80

West, the Artist, 100

Astor, the Millionaire, Ill

Hutton, the Bookseller, 121

Franklin, the Navigator, 145

Obeiiin, the Pastor, 163

Burritt, the Linguist, 121

Wilhelm, the Knife-grinder, 206

The Story of Hugh Miller's Early Days, 225

Linna3us, the Naturalist, 277

Smeaton, the Engineer, 285

Rittenhouse, the Mathematician, 299

922S&9

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

I AGE.

The Rothschilds and the Republican Soldiers, (Frontispiece.)
Vignette Title

George Stephenson 21

The Spinning-Jenny 70

Wilson and the Mouse 90

Button's Escape 125

Oberlin, the Pastor 178

Hugh Miller and Companion in the Cave 246

MEN WHO HATE RISEN.

'Whoe'er, amidst the sons
Of reason, valor, liberty and virtue,
Displays distinguished merit, is a noble
Of Nature's own creating."

STEPHENSON, THE KAILWAY
PIOKEEK.

WITHIN the last thirty years a revolution has been
effected in our social relations, and the surface
of the country has undergone a change wondrous
as the transformations of a geologic era. The
greatest works of antiquity cannot stand compari-
son with our railways, when we take into consider-
ation their magnitude and utility — the engineer-
ing skill and amount of capital involved in their
construction. It is estimated by the biographer
of George Stephenson that in Great Britain and
Ireland alone, iron rails have been laid more than
sufficient to girdle the globe; tunnels and viaducts,
upwards of one hundred miles in extent, have
pierced hard rock-mountains, and spanned deep

8 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

valleys j and earthworks have "been constructed
capable, according to calculation, of forming a
mountain half-a-mile in diameter at its base, and
towering upwards one mile and a-half in height.
It seems almost incredible that worts of such mag-
nitude, requiring for their construction an unpre-
cedented amount of capital, labor and skill, should
have been completed in little more than a quarter
of a century. The great value, the absolute neces-
sity, of railway communication, in these days of
flourishing trade and extending commerce, is made
abundantly manifest by the rapidity with which
the country has been incased in a network of iron.
George Stephenson came when a new system of
internal intercourse was demanded by the wants
of the age, and his invention of the Locomotive
Engine gave an impulse to science and art, to
commerce and civilization, greater than we can
fully estimate. The life of the man who inaugur-
ated the modern system of Railways, and who,
by patient plodding perseverance and invincible
determination, rendered possible a declared im-
possibility, possesses the deepest interest, and en-
forces the most valuable lessons. The biography
of the most eminent of English engineers cannot
foil to prove attractive in no ordinary degree, un-
folding as it does the career of one who rose from
obscurity to well-earned fame and affluence, and
who must be pronounced a model-worker — the re-
presentative practical man of the nineteenth cen-
tury. Availing ourselves of the information col-

STErilEXSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 9

lected by Mr. Samuel Smiles in his bulky biogra-
phy, we give the following epitome of the life of
this true Railway King :

George Stephensou was born at Wylam — a
colliery village about eight miles west of New-
castle-on-Tyne — on the 9th of June, 1781. His
parents inhabited a laborer's cottage of the hum-
blest class, with unplastered walls, clay floor, and
exposed rafters. " Old Bob," as his father was
familiarly called, fired the old pumping-engine at
the Wylam Colliery — a careful, hard-working man ;
and Mabel Stephenson, his mother, though troub-
led occasionally with the "vapors," was held in
the highest esteem by her neighbors. They were
an honest, decent, respectable couple, such as we
may find in colliery cottages and elsewhere. " Old
Bob " was a genuine character, a self-taught roman-
cist, and natural naturalist ; and it is pleasant to
think of him on the winter evenings gathering the
children of the village around his engine-fire, and
telling, in strong Northumbrian speech, the stories
of "Sinbad" and Robinson Crusoe," or wandering
about during the summer months in search of
birds' nests, when the day's "darg" was done.
George was the second oF a family of six children
• — four sons and two daughters. None of them
were ever sent to school. The weekly wages of a
fireman were barely sufficient, even with rigid
economy, to afford the family a sufficient supply of
food and clothing.

The first duties of the future eminent engineer

10 MEN WnO HAVE RISEN.

consisted in carrying his father's dinner to him while
at work, in nursing the younger children, and see-
ing that they were kept out of the way of the chal-
dron wagons, which were dragged by horses along
a wooden tramroad immediately in front of the
cottage-door. He next herded the cows of a widow
at Dewley Burn, whither the family removed from
Wylam, when the coal was worked out, and the
old engine pulled down. Besides herding the
widow'-s cows, he was appointed, at the wage of
twopence a-day (four cents), to bar the gates at
night after all the coal-wagons had passed. The
herd-boy spent his spare time in making whistles
and little mills, and erecting clay engines. The child
is father of the man. Wilkie drawing pencil-heads
on his slate for pins, and Stephenson modeling
clay engines for amusement, had already begun
the labor of their lives. From that humble origin,
from the rude attempts of a herd-boy sitting by
the side of the Dewley Burn, sprung the great
system of British Railways. Feeding cows, lead-
ing horses at the plow, and hoeing turnips, did
not, however, suit the taste of the embryo en-
gineer, and he was much elated when advanced to
the position of "picker" at the colliery, where he
was employed, along with his elder brother, in
clearing the coal of stones and dross. His wages
were now sixpence a-day, and rose to eightpence
(sixteen cents) when he drove the gin-horse.
Shortly after he was sent to Black Callerton Col-
liery, about two miles from Dewley Burn, to drive

8TEPHENSOX, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 11

the gin there ; and he is described by the old peo-
ple of that place as a "grit barelegged laddie, very
quick-witted, and full of fun and tricks." There
was genuine mettle and promise in the boy so
characterized. We can picture him there, the
rough, unkempt, barelegged collier "laddie," driv-
ing his gin-horse, whistling on his own whistles,
cracking a whip of his own manufacture, and in-
dulging in practical jokes at the expense of grim
pitmen. When off duty, he went bird-nesting,
having inherited from "Old Bob" a strong attach-
ment to birds and animals. He tamed young
blackbirds, taught them to fly about the cottage
unconfined by cages, and prided himself upon the
superiority of his breed of rabbits.

At the age of fourteen, the "grit barelegged
laddie " became assistant fireman to his father at
Dewley. His ambition was to be an engineman,
and his exultation was unbounded when he at-
tained the long-desired promotion. He had now
got upon the right track, and his career of pro-
gress began with his appointment as assistant fire-
man. From Dewley, the family removed south-
wards to Jolly's Close, where a new coal-mine had
recently been opened. They lived hi a poor cot-
tage of one apartment, where father, mother, sons,
and daughters, ate their humble meals, and slept
their hurried sleep. At Jolly's Close, George was
removed to one of the workings on his own ac-
count. He was now fifteen years old ; a steady,
sober, hard-working young man. He was fond of

12 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

trying feats of strength with his companions. At
throwing the hammer he had no compeer, and
seems to have been equally successful in lifting
heavy weights.

At the age of seventeen George had got ahead
of his father in his station as a workman. He was
appointed plugman of a pumping-engine, while his
father worked it as fireman. No sooner did he
occupy this responsible post, than he devoted him-
self assiduously to the study of the engine, taking
it frequently to pieces in his leisure hours, for the
purpose of cleaning and mastering its parts, and
thus he early acquired a thorough practical know-
ledge of its construction, and disciplined his inven-
tive faculty. An engine seemed to attract him by
some mysterious fascination ; it was no dull, groan-
ing machine in his estimation, but a thing instinct
with wondrous life. Its complicated mechanism
absorbed his interest, and excited his admiration ;
and the minute study of its details, while quicken-
ing his powers of observation, made him an accom-
plished workman, and gained for him the increased
confidence of his employers. At this period he
worked twelve hours every day, and earned twelve
shillings (about three dollars) a-week. The " grit
barelegged laddie" has now taken a considerable
stride in advance.

George Stephenson was eighteen years of age
before he knew his letters, and he does not appear
to have felt the want until he was told that all the
engines of Watt and Bolt on, about which he was

STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEEK. 16

so anxious to know, were to be found described in
books — and the alphabet was yet to him a hidden
mystery ! It affords a striking illustration of the
persevering, searching, indomitable spirit of the
young man, that no sooner did he feel his want —
no sooner was the conviction forced upon him that
he must learn to read before further progress was
possible, than immediately he went to school, big
as he was, and commenced in earnest the work of
self-culture. He was not ashamed to confess his
ignorance ; he was proud that he possessed the ca-
pability of learning. A poor teacher in the village
of Walbottle kept a night-school, and there George
Stephenson took his first lessons in spelling and
reading, and practiced " pot-hooks." One can
imagine the big bony engineman bending over his
desk, and laboring sore at the unwonted task.
Andrew Robertson, a Scotch dominie, who enjoy-
ed the reputation of being a skilled arithmetician,
was the next teacher from whom George took
lessons. He made rapid progress, and at the end
of the Winter had mastered "reduction," while
the junior fireman was heating his brains over sim-
ple division. He improved every spare minute by
the engine-fire in working out the sums set for him
by the learned dominie of Newburn, and the pa-
tient pupil was not long in outstripping his teacher.
To perseverance all things are possible, and where
the desire to learn was so strong, rapid attainment
was certain. In this, as in other respects, Stephen-
son may be held up as a memorable model to young

t MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

men. Against every disadvantage of circumstance
and fortune, he struggled onwards, by sheer force
of will, and the determination to succeed. Many
men, unschooled like him in boyhood, and of equal
natural ability, ashamed to confess their ignorance,
would have remained without instruction, and thus
neglected the means and the opportunity of better-
ing their condition, and of rising from obscurity to
eminence.

Stephenson — ever rising steadily step by step —
became brakesman at Black Callerton when he had
attained his twentieth year, and his wages amount-
ed to from five to ten dollars in the fortnight. By
extra work during leisure hours, he increased his
earnings, and he had the happy facility, peculiar to
some men gifted with mechanical genius, of being
able to turn his hand to any and everything. He
grew expert in making and mending the shoes of
his fellow-workmen. His chef cPoeuvre in the cob-
bling department was soleing the shoes of his
sweetheart, Fanny Henderson, a servant in a neigh-
boring farm-house. So delighted was the amateur
shoemaker with his performance, that he carried
the shoes about with him in his pocket on the Sun-
day afternoon, and exhibiting them to a friend, ex-
claimed, "What a capital job he had made of
them ! " From shoemending he contrived to save
his first guinea, and considered himself to be a rich
man. He did not, like many of the other work-
men, spend his earnings in the public-house; he
was habitually steady, and applied his spare time

STEPHKNSON, THE RAILWAY riO-N'EEK. 15

to master the powers and mechanisms of the engine.
lie had a definite purpose in view when he saved
his first guinea. It gradually attracted a few
more, and the industrious brakesman soon managed
to save as much money as enabled him, on leaving
Black Callerton for Willington Quay, to furnish a
humble house, and marry Fanny Henderson. After
the marriage ceremony, George rode over to Wil-
lington on a borrowed horse, with his newly-wed-
ded wife sitting on the pillion behind him, and
holding on by her arms around his waist. He con-
tinued the same regular course of life, working
hard during the day, and studying the principles of
mechanics in the evenings by the side of his young
wife. He also modeled experimental engines, and
occupied himself much in endeavoring to discover
Perpetual Motion. He allowed few moments to
pass unimproved ; his eye was ever observant, and
his mind ever active. He could make and mend
shoes, cut out shoe-lasts, clean clocks, and model
complicated machines ; and whatever he did was
creditable alike to his ingenuity and his skill.
While residing at Willington, his only son Robert
was born — that son who has contributed so much
to heighten the distinction of the Stephenson name.
The child was from the first a great favorite with
his father, and added a fresh charm to the domes-
tic hearth.

George Stephenson worked for about three
years as a brakesman at the Willington machine,
and then removed to a similar situation at Killing-

16 MEN WHO HATE EISEBT.

worth, a village lying about seven miles north of
Newcastle, where the coal-workings are of great
extent, and a large number of people are employed.
Much interest attaches to his settlement in this
place, as it was here that his practical qualities as
an engineer were fully developed, and that he ac-
quired the reputation of an inventor. He came to
Killingworth in 1804, and he had scarcely settled
down ere he sustained a severe loss in the death of
his much-loved Fanny. A man of strong affections,
he felt the bereavement bitterly. He bowed his
head in sorrow, and ever fondly cherished the
memory of his young wife. While mourning her
loss, he was invited to superintend the working of
one of Bolton and Watt's engines, near Montrose.
He accepted the invitation, and, leaving his boy in
charge of a neighbor, set out upon his long jour-
ney on foot, with his kit upon his back. He re-
turned to Killingworth, after a year's absence,
with £28 ($160) of saved money in his pocket.
During his stay in Scotland, old Robert Stephen-
son, his father, had been severely scorched, and his
eye-sight destroyed, while making some repairs in
the inside of an engine. George's first step was to
pay off his father's debts ; and soon afterwards he
removed his aged parents to a comfortable cottage
iat Killingworth, where they lived, supported en
tirely by their dutiful son.

About the years 1807-8, Stephenson contem-
plated the idea of emigrating to the United States.
Owing to the great war in which England was

STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEEE. 17

then engaged, taxes pressed heavily upon the
laboring class; food was scarce and dear, and
wages were low ; and the workman saw little pros-
pect of any improvement in his condition. The
hard won earnings of George Stephenson were paid
to a militiaman to serve in his stead ; and need we
wonder if he should almost have despaired of ever
being able to succeed in England ? He could not,
however, raise the requisite money to emigrate,
and thus his poverty was ultimately his own and
his country's gain. He worked on steadily as a
brakesman. Stinted as he was for means at the
time, he resolved to send his son Robert to school.
" In the earlier period of my career," said he, long
afterwards, in a speech at Newcastle, "when
Robert was a little boy, I saw how deficient I was
in education ; and I made up my mind that he
should not labor under the same defect, but that I
would put him to school, and give him a liberal
training. I was, however, a poor man ; and how
do you think I managed? I betook myself to
mending my neighbors' clocks and watches at
night, after my daily labor was done ; and thus I
procured the means of educating my son."

An achievement which George performed at this
time caused his name to be noised abroad as an en-
gine-doctor. At the Killingworth High Pit, an at-
mospheric engine was fixed, for the purpose of
pumping out the water from the shaft ; but the
workmen continued to be " drowned out," pump
as the engine might. Under the direction of Ste-
2

18 MEN VttIO HAVE EISEN.

phenson, the engine was taken to pieces, and so
repaired that the pumping apparatus proved com-
pletely successful. He received a present of £10,
as a recognition of his skill as a workman. After
hard struggling, the genius of the man now began
to be felt and acknowledged. He devoted himself
in the evenings, with renewed energy, to self-im-
provement, modeling steam and pumping engines,
and striving to embody the mechanical inventions
described in odd volumes on mechanics. From
John Wigham, a farmer's -son, he derived consider-
able assistance in his studies. This young man
taught him to draw plans and sections. They
carefully pondered together Ferguson's "Lectures
on Mechanics," and invented many mechanical
contrivances to aid them in their experiments.
Wigham expounded principles, and Stephenson re-
duced them to practice.

The resolution which George had formed to give
his son a good education, he was able to carry into
effect, by managing to save a sum of £100. This
amount he accumulated in guineas, and sold them
to Jews at twenty-six shillings a-piece. A shrewd,
industrious man was George Stephenson, and one
destined to rise in the world. He sent his son to
an academy at Newcastle, where he commenced a
course of sound instruction. At Killingworth,
Stephenson continued to astonish the neighborhood
by his ingenious mechanical contrivances. He in-
vented a strange " fley craw " to protect his gar-
den-crops from the ravages of birds ; he won the

BTEPIIENSOX, THE EAILWAY PIONEEK. 19

admiration of the women, by connecting their
cradles with the smoke-jack, and making them
self-acting ; and excited much wonder in the pit-
men, by attaching an alarm to the clock of the
watchman, whose duty it was to call them up in
the morning. He also contrived a mysterious
lamp, which burned under water, and attracted
the fish. His cottage was full of models, engines,
and perpetual-motion machines.

In 1812 he was appointed engine-wright of the
Killingworth Colliery, at- the salary of £100 a-year.
He is ever steadily rising, winning more and more
the respect of his employers, and gaining for him-
self, by manful effort, a better position in the world.
He had now advanced to the grade of a higher-
class workman. He erected a winding and a
pumping engine, and laid down a self-acting in-
cline at AVillington. The practical study which he
had given to the steam engine, and his intimate
acquaintance with its powers, were of immense ad-
vantage to him in his endeavors after improvement.
The locomotive already occupied his attention ; he
knew its value and its capabilities ; and he soon
bent the whole force of his mind to develop its
might. A more economical method of working
the coal trains, instead of by means of horses, was
a great desideratum at the collieries. Stephenson
immediately began in earnest to attempt the solu-
tion of the problem. He first made himself
thoroughly acquainted with what had already been
done. He went to inspect the engines which

20 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

working daily at "Wylam— slow, cumbrous, un-
steady machines, more expensive than horses, and
certainly much slower in their movements. He
declared on the spot that he could make a much
better engine than Trevethick's. One of Blenkin-
sop's Leeds engines he saw placed on the tramway
leading from the collieries of Kenton and Coxlodge ;
and here again, after examining the machine, and ob-
serving its performances, he asserted that "he could
make a better engine than that to go upon legs."
All the engines constructed up to this time were,
in his estimation, practical failures, unsteady in
their movement, and far from economical in their
working. Much ingenuity had already been shown,
and some little success had been attained ; but a
man of keen practical insight and great persever-
ance was required to promote the efficiency of
every part, and to produce a good working ma-
chine. Lord Ravensworth, one of the lessees of
the Killing-worth Colliery, after hearing Stephen-
son's statements, authorized him to proceed with
the construction of a locomotive. With such
mechanics and tools as he could find (and both
were somewhat clumsy), he set to work, following
in part the plan of Blenkinsop's engine. The lo-
comotive was completed in about ten months. Its
powers were tried on the Killingworth Railway on
the 25th of July, 1814, and it succeeded in draw-
ing after it, on an ascending gradient of 1 in 450,
eight loaded carriages, of thirty tons' weight, at
about four miles an hour. " Blucher " was a great

GEORGE BTEPIIENSOX.
•There w?w danger, it mijhtbe de.i h, bef.-ro linn, but he must go."— TAGS 21.

STEPIIEXSOX, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 21

advance upon all previous locomotives ; but it was
nevertheless a cumbrous machine, and jolted,
jerked, and rattled like the gigantic skeleton of a
mammoth. At the end of the year, the steam-
power and horse-power were found to be nearly
upon a par in point of cost. The locomotive might
have been condemned as useless, had not Stephen-
son at this juncture fortunately invented and ap-
plied the steam-blast, which stimulated combus-
tion, increased the capability of the boiler to gen-
erate steam, and more than doubled the power of
the engine. The success of the steam-blast was
complete ; and Stephenson determined to construct
a second engine, embodying all the improvements
that his experience suggested. It was finished in
the year 1815, and may be regarded as the type of
the present locomotive engine.

At this period, explosions of fire-damp were fre-
quent in the Northumberland and Durham coal-
mines, attended sometimes by fearful loss of life.
" One day, in the year 1814, a workman hurried in
to Mr. Stephenson's cottage, with the startling in-
formation that the deepest main of the colliery was
on fire ! He immediately hastened to the pit-
mouth, about a hundred yards off, whither the
women and children of the colliery were fast run-
ning, with wildness and terror depicted in every
face. In an energetic voice Stephenson ordered
the engine-man to lower him down the shaft in the
corve. There was danger, it might be death, be-
fore him — but he must go. As those about the

22 MEN wno HAVE

pit-mouth saw him descend rapidly out of sight,
and heard from the gloomy depths of the shaft the
mingled cries of despair and agony rising from the
workpeople below, they gazed on the heroic man
with breathless amazement. He was soon at the
bottom, and in the midst of his workmen, who
were paralyzed at the danger which threatened the-
lives of all in the pit. Leaping from the corve on
its touching the ground, he called out, 'Stand
back ! Are there six men among you who have
courage enough to follow me ? If so, come, and
we will put the fire out.' The Killingworth men
had always the most perfect confidence in George
Stephenson, and instantly they volunteered to fol-
low him. Silence succeeded to the frantic tumult
of the previous minute, and the men set to work.
In every mine, bricks, mortar, and tools enough
are at hand, and by Stephenson's direction mate-
rials were forthwith carried to the required spot,
where, in a very short time, a wall was raised at
the entrance to the main, he himself taking the
most active part in the work. Thus the atmos-
pheric air was excluded, the fire was extinguished,
and the people were saved from death, and the
mine was preserved."

After this accident, Stephenson set about devis-
ing a lamp which would afford sufficient light to
the miners, without communicating flame to the
inflammable gas in the pit. His experiments re-
sulted in the invention of the Geordy Safety
Lamp. The name of Sir Humphrey Davy has

STEPHENSOX, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 23

been generally identified with the invention : but
it now seems that Stephenson had made a success-
ful trial of his lamp before Davy's invention was
made public.

While people were predicting a terrible blow-
up some day for George's locomotive at Killing-
worth, it continued to perform its appointed work.
The engine was indeed subject to jolts and shocks,
and occasionally it was thrown off the road, owing
to the inequality of the rails, and the imperfection
of the chairs or cast-iron pedestals into which the
rails were inserted. These defects did not long re-
main unnoticed and unamended. In September,
1816, an improved form of the rail and chair was
embodied in a patent taken out in the joint names
of Mr. Losh of Newcastle, ironfounder, and of Mr.
Stephenson. Important improvements on loco-
motives previously constructed were also described
in the specification of the same patent. Mr. Ste-
phenson had devised an ingenious contrivance, by
which the steam generated in the boiler was made
to supply the place of springs ! The working of
the new locomotive and improved road was highly
satisfactory, and the superiority of the locomotive
to horse traction, both as regards regularity and
economy, was now completely established. The
identical engines constructed by Mr. Stephenson
are still at work on the Killingworth Railway.
He investigated the resistances to which carria-
ges are exposed, and ascertained by experiment
the now well-known, but then much-contested

24: MEN WHO HAVE EISEN".

fact, that friction was uniform at all veloci-
ties.

In 1820 Mr. Stephenson resolved to send his son
Robert — who, since leaving school at Newcastle,
had acted as under-viewer in the West Moor Pit
— to the University of Edinburgh. He was fur-
nished with introductions to men of science in the
Scottish metropolis, and attended the lectures of
Dr. Hope, Sir John Leslie, and the mathematical
classes of Jamieson. He studied at Edinburgh for
only one session of six months, but, possessing
much of his father's zeal, industry, and persever-
ance, he made great progress, and stored his mind
with scientific knowledge. He subsequently ren-
dered his father the most valuable assistance in de-
veloping the power of the steam-engine, and in the
construction of railways.

While such men as William James, Edward
Pease, and Thomas Gray, were agitating the gen-
eral adoption of railways, Stephenson was busy
making railways, and building efficient locomo-
tives. A very large capital was required to lay
clown rails and furnish engines, and this accounts
in part for the slow growth at first of the railway
system. The Hetton Coal Company, possessing
adequate means, and observing the working of the
Killingworth line, resolved to construct a railway
about eight miles in length, and George Stephen-
son was requested to superintend their works.
This was the first decisive public recognition of
his engineering skill. The line was opened in ]STo-

STEPHENSOX, THE RAILWAY PIONEEK. 25

vember, 1822, in the presence of a crowd of spec-
tators. Five of Stephenson's locomotives were at
work on that day, traveling about four miles an
hour, and each engine dragging after it a train of
seventeen wagons, weighing about sixty-four tons.
In 1823 the second Stockton and Darlington
Railway Act was obtained. Mr. Stephenson was
appointed the company's engineer, at a salary of
£300 (nearly $1500) per annum. He laid out
every foot of the ground himself, accompanied by
his assistants. He surveyed -indefatigably from
daylight to dusk, dressed in top-boots and breech-
es ; and took his chance of bread and milk, or a
homely dinner at some neighboring farmhouse.
The country people were fond of his cheerful talk,
and he was always a great favorite with the chil-
dren. One day, when the works were approaching
completion, he dined with his son, and John^Dixon,
his assistant, at Stockton. After dinner, Mr. Ste-
phenson ordered in a bottle of wine, to drink suc-
cess to the railway, and said to the young men,
" Now, lads, I will tell you that I think you will
live to see the day, though I may not live so long,
when railways will come to supersede almost all
other methods of conveyance in this country ; when
mail-coaches will go by railway, and railroads will
become the great highway for the King and all his
subjects. The time is coming when it will be
cheaper for a working man to travel on a railway
than to walk on foot. I know there are great and
almost insurmountable obstacles that will have to
2

26 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

be encountered. But what I have said will come
to pass, as sure as I live. I only wish I may live
to see the day, though that I can scarcely hope
for, as I know how slow all human progress is, and
with what difficulty I have been able to get the
locomotive adopted, notwithstanding my more
than ten years' successful experiment at Killing-
worth." The anticipations of the great engineer
were more than realized.

The Stockton and Darlington line was opened
for traffic in September, 1825. As this was the
first public railway, a great crowd of people as-
sembled to witness the ceremony of opening. Mr.
Stephenson himself drove the engine. The train
consisted of thirty-eight vehicles, among which
were twenty-one wagons fitted up with temporary
seats for passengers, and a carriage filled with the
directors and their friends. The speed attained in
some parts was twelve miles an hour; and the arrival
at Stockton excited deep interest and admiration.
The line was found to work excellently, and the
goods and passenger traffic soon exceeded the ex-
pectations of the directors.

An important step in the progress of the rail-
way system was the establishment by Mr. Stephen-
son of a locomotive manufactory at Newcastle.
The building, small at first, subsequently assumed
gigantic dimensions. Skilled workmen were en-
gaged, under whose direction others were disci-
plined. The most celebrated engineers of Europe,
America and India, acquired their best practical

STEPIIENSOX, THE RAILWAY TIONEEE. 27

knowledge in the Newcastle factory. It continued
to be the only establishment of the kind, until
after the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester
line in 1830.

The survey of this railway was the next import-
ant public work which Mr. Stephenson was re-
quested to undertake. Great was the opposition
on the part of the proprietors of the lands through
which the line was intended to pass. Lord
Derby's farmers and servants, and Lord Sefton's
keepers, turned out in full force to resist the ag-
gressions of the surveying party. The Duke of
Bridgewater's property-guard threatened to duck
Mr. Stephenson in a pond if he proceeded ; and
he had to take the survey by stealth, when the
people were at dinner. The opposition of landed
proprietors and canal companies to the projected
railway grew in intensity, when the survey, im-
perfect as it could not fail to be, was completed,
and arrangements were made for introducing the
bill into Parliament. The Liverpool and Man-
chester Bill went into committee of the House of
Commons on the 21st of March, 1825. The array
of legal talent, on the opposition side especially,
was something extraordinary. Mr. George Ste-
phenson was called to the witness-box, and sub-
jected to a rigorous examination. " I had to place
myself in that most unpleasant of all positions —
the witness-box of a parliamentary committee. I
was not long in it before I began to wish for a
hole to creep out at, I could not find words to

28 MEN WHO HAVE EISE2T.

satisfy either the committee or myself. I was
subjected to the cross-examination of eight or ten
barristers, purposely, as far as possible, to bewilder
me. One member of the committee asked if I
was a foreigner ; and another hinted that I was
mad. But I put up with every rebuff, and went
on with my plans, determined not to be put down."
The idea of a train going at the rate of twelve
miles an hour was considered the height of ab-
surdity. A good story is told of Stephenson dur-
ing his examination. A member of committee
put the following case : — " Suppose, now, one of
these engines to be going along a railroad at the
rate of nine or ten miles an hour, and that a cow
were to stray upon the line, and get in the way of
the engine, would not that, think you, be a very awk-
ward circumstance ? " — " Yes," replied the witness,
in his Northumbrian speech ; " very awkward in-
deed— -for the coo." The examination of Mr.
Stephenson lasted three days ; and the result of
the contest was the temporary withdrawal of the
bill. This was sufficiently discouraging, and the
railway system seemed about to be crushed at the
outset. The directors, however, nothing daunted,
were determined to press on with their project.
A new survey was made, the plans were deposited,
and the bill went into committee. It passed the
third reading in the House of Commons, by a
majority of eighty-eight to forty-one ; and its only
opponents in the House of Lords were the Earl of
Derby and the Earl of Wilton.

STEPIIENSOX, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 29

The directors appointed Mr. George Stephen-
son their principal engineer, at a salary of £1,000
per annum — a mighty advance from the herd-boy
with his twopence per diem. The Liverpool and
Manchester directors had put the right man in
the right place, as they subsequently found. He
immediately began to make the road over Chat,
Moss — a work which the distinguished engineers
of the day had declared that " no man in his
senses would undertake to do." But George Ste-
phenson did not know the meaning of the word
" impossible." For weeks, truck-load after truck-
load of material wras poured in, without any sen-
sible effect. The bog, it was feared, had some
connection with the bottomless pit. The directors
became alarmed, and Mr. Stephenson answered,
" We must persevere." Other weeks passed ; the
insatiable bog swrallowed all; the solid embank-
ment made no sign. A special meeting of the
board was forthwith held on the spot, to consult
whether the wrork should be proceeded with or
abandoned. "An immense outlay had been in-
curred," said Mr. Stephenson afterwards, " and
great loss would have been occasioned had the
scheme been then abandoned, and the line taken
by another route. So the directors were compelled
to allow me to go on with my plan, of the ultimate
success of which I myself never for one moment
doubted. Determined, therefore, to persevere as
before, I ordered the works to be carried on
vigorously ; and, to the surprise of every one con-

30 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

nected with the undertaking, in six months from
the day on which the board had held its special
meeting on the moss, a locomotive engine and
carriage passed over the very spot, with a party
of the directors' friends, on their way to dine at
Manchester." The embankments, the bridges,
the Sankey viaduct, the Rainhill Skew bridge,
and the Olive Mount excavation, were regarded
as wondrous works, and filled even " distinguished
engineers " with admiration. In the organization
and direction of navvies, and in training them for
their special work, Mr. Stephenson also manifested
the most eminent skill and ability. He was a
Napoleon in his profession, never failing in his re-
sources or his undertakings; a man of infinite
vigor and determination.

While the works were in progress, many con-
sultations were held by the directors as to the
kind of power which was to be employed in the
working of the railway when opened for traffic.
Two eminent practical engineers reported against
the employment of the locomotive. The whole
profession stood opposed to George Stephenson,
but he still held to his purpose. Urged by his
solicitations to test the powers of the locomotive,
the directors at last determined to offer a prize of
£500 for the best locomotive engine which, on a
certain day, should be produced on the railway,
and fulfill certain conditions in the most satisfac-
tory manner. A speed of ten miles an hour was
all that was required to be maintained. Mr. Ste-

STEPHENSOX, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 31

phenson, assisted by his son, who had returned
from South America, immediately set about the
construction of his famous " Rocket." An import-
ant principle introduced in the construction 01
this engine, was the multi-tubular boiler, by whicli
the power of generating steam was greatly in-
creased. On the day appointed for the competi-
tion at Rainhill, four engines were entered for the
prize: first, Messrs. Braithwaite and Ericsson's
"Novelty"; second, Mr. Timothy Hackworth's
" Sanspareil " ; third, Mr. Robert Stephenson's
"Rocket"; fourth, Mr. Burstall's "Persever-
ance." Mr. Stephenson's engine was first ready,
and entered upon the contest. It drew after it
thirteen tons' weight in wagons, and the maxi-
mum velocity attained during the trial trip was
twenty-nine miles an hour — three times the speed
that one of the judges had declared to be the
limit of possibility. The average speed was fif-
teen miles an hour. The spectators were filled
with a great astonishment ; and one of the direc-
tors lifted up his hands, and exclaimed, " Now is
George Stephenson at last delivered ! " The
"Sanspareil" weighed five hundredweights be-
yond the weight specified, and was excluded from
competition. The steam-generator of the " Nov-
elty" burst, and ended its performance. The
" Perseverance " did not fulfill the advertised con-
ditions ; and the prize of £500 was accordingly
awarded to the " Rocket " as the successful en-
gine.

32 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

The public opening of the Liverpool and Man-
chester Railway took place on the 15th of Sep-
tember, 1830. Eight locomotives, constructed by
the Messrs. Stephenson, had been placed upon the
line. The Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel,
Mr. Huskisson, one of the members for Liver-
pool, and a large body of distinguished persons,
were present ; for the completion of the work was
justly regarded and celebrated as a national event.
The lamentable accident to Mr. Huskisson, who
was struck down by the " Rocket," and expired
that same evening, cast a gloom over the day's
proceedings. The " Northumbrian " engine con-
veyed the wounded body a distance of fifteen
miles in twenty-five minutes — a rate of speed
which at the time excited much wonder and ad-
miration. The success of the railway in a com-
mercial point of view, was immediate and decisive.
Soon after the opening, it carried, on an average,
about 1,200 passengers a-day. Mr. Stephenson,
whose energy and perseverance had thus triumphed
so signally over all difficulties and opposition, con-
tinued to improve the construction and develop
the powers of the locomotive. The " Planet "
was an improvement upon the " Rocket," and the
" Samson" was an improvement upon the "Planet."
The number of competitors who appeared about
the time, stimulated Mr. Stephenson's inventive
faculties, and he succeeded in sustaining the su-
periority of his engines.

The practicability of Railway Locomotion being

STEPJIENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 33

now proved, other joint-stock companies speedily
arose in the manufacturing districts, and George
Stephenson was appointed engineer of the prin-
cipal projected lines. The landowners might be
horrified at the idea of " fire-horses " snorting and
puffing through their fields, causing premature
births among the cattle, and frightening the poul-
try to death ; but merchants and manufacturers
did not feel disposed to sacrifice the interests of
commerce to the absurd fears of timid or superan-
nuated proprietors. The London and Birmingham
Railway was the most important on which the
Messrs. Stephenson were soon afterwards engaged,
The works were of the most formidable descrip-
tion ; but the difficulties encountered only roused
the energies of father and son. The formation of
the Kilsby Tunnel — 2400 yards in length, and pen-
etrating about 160 feet below the surface — was
justly regarded as a great engineering triumph.
The number of bricks used, according to estimate,
was sufficient to make a good footpath, a yard
broad, from London to Aberdeen ! Some idea of
the magnitude of the works may be formed from
the cost of construction, which amounted to five
million sterling. Practical ability of the highest
kind, and energy that never flagged, were neces-
sary to bring such works to a successful issue.

Mr. Stephenson removed from Liverpool to
Alton Grange, near Ashby-de-la-Zouch, in Leices-
tershire, in 1832. He had leased the estate of
Snibston, certain that coal was to be found in the
3

3 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

district, and he soon discovered a rich bed of that
mineral. As railway projects were now springing
up all over England, he was often called from
home for the purpose of making surveys. A pri-
vate secretary accompanied him on his journeys.
He was averse himself to writing letters ; but he
possessed the power of laboring continuously at
dictation. It it stated that in one day he dictated
thirty-seven letters, many of them embodying the
results of close thinking and calculation. He
could snatch his sleep while traveling in his chaise,
and by break of day he would be at work again
surveying until dark. He was always fresh and
energetic, when secretaries and assistants were
knocked up and unfit for duty. He took an office
in London during the session of 1836, and this
office was for many years the busy scene of railway
politics.

The importance of the Midland Railway, as
opening up new coal-markets, Mr. Stephenson
early detected. " The strength of Britain," he
would say, " lies in her coal-beds ; and the locomo-
tive is destined, above all other agencies, to bring
it forth. The Lord Chancellor now sits upon a
bag of wool ; but wool has long ceased to be em-
blematical of the staple commodity of England.
He ought rather to sit upon a bag of coals, though
it might not prove quite so comfortable a seat.
Then think of the Lord Chancellor being address
ed as the noble and learned lord on the coal-sack !
I am afraid it wouldn't answer, after all." He

STEPIIEX30X, Tin: .RAILWAY PIONEEE. 35

took a lease of the Clay Cross Colliery, in anticipa-
tion of the London demand for railway-led coal.
Tapton House, near Chesterfield, thencefor wards
continued his residence until the close of his life.

A keen competition of professional ability among
engineers was excited by the general demand for
railways which sprang up after the opening of the
Liverpool and Manchester line. Jealousy, of
course, also prevailed, and it was long before tho
regular professional men would recognize George
Stephenson as entitled to the status of a civil
engineer ! He was an interloper ; he was born to
be a brakesman, and should have remained so ; he
had no right to do what he had done ! The ap-
preciation and generous admiration of genius is the
last thing that can be expected of your " regular "
respectable professional men. George Stephenson
could well afford to despise his detractors, so long-
as the country recognized his power. The desire
to be original, and to excel Stephenson, became a
passion with some of the new " fast " engineers.
They proposed undulating railways, atmospheric
railways, alterations of the gauge, increase of loco-
motive speed to one hundred miles an hour, and a
variety of absurd and impracticable projects. Mr.
Stephenson, in opposition to the " fast " men, de-
fended the importance of the uniform gauge, pro-
nounced the atmospheric system to be "gimerack,"
and declared that the introduction of steep gra-
dients would neutralize every improvement which
he had madev The soundness of his judgment in

36 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

these particulars experience lias proved. He always
kept in view ecunomy, public utility, and commer-
cial advantage, and gave no countenance to schemes
that would be prejudicial to the interests of share-
holders.

In 1840, George Stephensoii publicly intimated
his intention of retiring from the more active pur-
suit of his profession, and resigned the charge of
several of the railways of which he was chief
engineer. He longed to enjoy rest and leisure in
the retirement of Tapton House — a place beautiful
for situation, looking down from its wooded emi-
nence upon the town of Chesterfield, and command-
ing an extensive prospect over a rich undulating
country. He contemplated improvements in the
garden and pleasure-grounds ; but some years
elapsed before he could carry them into effect.
Although he had retired from the more active pur-
suit of his profession, he was not allowed, nor did
he allow himself, to rest. He was, in 1844, ap-
pointed engineer of the Whitehaven and Maryport
Railway, along with his friend and former assistant,
John Dixon. He was also elected Chairman of the
Yarmouth and Norwich Railway. When the
Thames and the Tyne were connected by a con-
tinuous line, the event was worthily celebrated :
Newcastle held holiday ; and a banquet in the As-
sembly Rooms in the evening assumed the form of
nn ovation to Mr. Stephensoii and his son. In re-
plying to the complimentary speech of the cliuir-
iv! an, Mr. Stephensoii gave a short autobiogi aphic

STEPHENSOX, THE EAILWAY PIONEEE. 37

sketch, part of which we have already quoted.
The Iligh Level Bridge over the Tyne at Newcas-
tle— one of the most striking and picturesque erec-
tions to which railways have given birth — was
shortly afterwards projected by George Stephen-
son ; but he did not live to see it completed.

As early as the year 1835, Mr. Stephenson and
hib son had been consulted by Leopold, King of
the Belgians, as to the formation of the most effi-
cient system of lines throughout his kingdom. In
consideration of the great English engineer's valu-
able assistance, and the services which he had ren-
dered to civilization, he was appointed by the Bel-
gian King a Knight of the Order of Leopold. The
same honor was afterwards conferred on his distin-
guished son by royal ordinance. When the Sam-
bre and Meuse Company, in 1845, obtained the
concession of a line from the Belgian legislature,
Mr. Stephenson proceeded to Belgium for the pur-
pose of examining the district through which the
proposed line was to pass. He went as far as the
Forest of Ardennes and Rocroi, examining the
bearings of the coal-fields, the slate and marble
quarries, and iron mines. The engineers of Bel-
gium invited him to a magnificent banquet at
Brussels. " The public hall, in wrhich they enter-
tained him, wras gaily decorated with flags, prom-
inent amongst which was the Union Jack, in honor
of their distinguished guest. A handsome marble
pedestal, ornamented with his bust, crowned witli
laurels, occupied one end of the room. The chair

33 MEN WHO HAVE KISEItf.

was occupied by M. Massui, the chief director of
the National Railways of Belgium ; and the most
eminent scientific men of the kingdom were pre-
sent. Their reception of the ' father of railways '
was of the most enthusiastic description. Mr. Ste-
phensoii was greatly pleased with the entertain-
ment. Not the least interesting incident of the
evening was his observing, when the dinner was
about half over, a model of a locomotive engine
placed upon the centre of the table, under a trium-
phal arch. Turning suddenly to his friend Lop-
•\vict, he exclaimed, ' Do you see the Rocket ? ' It
was indeed the model of that celebrated engine;
and Mr. Stephenson prized the compliment thus
paid him perhaps more than all the encomiums of
the evening." He had a private interview with
King Leopold next day, at the royal palace of
Laaken, near Brussels. Mr. Stephenson w^as gen-
tlemanly, simple, and unpretending ; maintained
the most perfect ease and self-possession, and des-
cribed to the king the geological structure of Bel-
gium. The " grit barelegged laddie " is now teach-
ing a king! In describing the coal-fields, Mr.
Stephenson used his hat as a sort of model to illus-
trate his meaning, and on leaving the palace, said
to his friend, " By the by, Lopwict, I was afraid
the king would see the inside of my hat, for it's a
shocking bad one ! " He paid a second visit to
Belgium in the course of the same year, for the
_ purpose of examining the direction of the proposed
West Flanders Railway, and had scarcely return-

STEPHEXSOX, THE RAILWAY PIONEEK. 39

ed, before he was requested to proceed to Spain, to
report upon a project then on foot for constructing
the Royal North of Spain Railway. He was ac-
companied by Sir Joshua Walmsley, and several
other gentlemen. In passing through Irun, St.
Sebastian, St. Andrew, and Bilbao, they were met
by deputations of the principal inhabitants, who
were interested in the subject of their journey.
Mr. Stephenson was not long in forming an un-
favorable opinion of the entire project, and it was
consequently abandoned. From fatigue and the
privations endured by him while carrying on the
survey among the Spanish mountains, he became
ill on the homeward journey. After a few weeks'
rest at home, he gradually recovered, although his
health remained shaken.

The Ambergate and Manchester line, which re-
ceived the sanction of Parliament in 1848, was the
last railway in the promotion of which he took any
active part. He resided at Tapton House, enjoy-
ing his garden and grounds, and indulging that
love of nature which remained strong within him
to the last. He built new melon-houses, pineries,
and vineries of great extent, and became eager to
excel his neighbors in the growth of exotic plants.
His grapes took the first prize at Rotherham, at a
competition open to all England. Rivalry was the
very life of the man, and he was never satisfied
until he had excelled all competitors. He fed cat-
tle after methods of his own, and was very partic-
ular as to breed and build in stock-breeding.

40 MEN WHO HAVE KISEtf.

Again, as when a boy, he began to keep rabbits,
and prosecuted con amore his old occupation of
bird-nesting. From close observation, he was
minutely acquainted with the habits of British
birds. He read very little in-doors ; his greatest
pleasure was in conversation. He was fond of tell-
ing anecdotes illustrating the struggles of his early
life. He would sometimes indulge his visitors in
the evening by reciting the old pastoral " Damon
and Phyllis," or singing " John Anderson my Joe."
The humbler companions of his early life were fre-
quently invited to his house ; he assumed none of
the high airs of an upstart, but treated them as his
equals. He was charitable to the needy, and so
bestowed his gifts that the delicacy of the fastidious
was never offended.

" Young men would call upon him for advice or
assistance, in commencing a professional career.
When he noted their industry, prudence, and
good sense, he was always ready. But, hating
foppery and frippery above all things, he would re-
prove any tendency to this weakness which he ob-
served in the applicants. One day a youth, desir-
ous of becoming an engineer, called upon him,
flourishing a gold-headed cane. Mr. Stephenson
said, ' Put by that stick, my man, and then I will
speak to you.' To another extensively-decorated
young man he one day said, ' You will, I hope, Mr.

, excuse me ; I am a plain-spoken person, and

am sorry to see a nice-looking and rather clever
young man like you disfigured with that fine-

STEPIIENSON, THE BAILWAY PIONEEK. 41

patterned waistcoat, and all these chains and fang-
dangs. If I, sir, had bothered my head with such
things wlien at your age, I would not have been
where I am now."

During the later years of his life, Mr. Stephen-
son took a deep interest in educational institutes
for the working classes. He had many thousand
workpeople engaged in his works at Tapton and
Clay Cross; and he established a model educa-
tional institute, beneficial alike to employers and
employed.

The inventive faculty of the eminent engineer
did not slumber when he retired to the seclusion
of private life. In 1846 he brought out his design
of a three-cylinder locomotive. It has not come
into general use, owing to the greater expense of
its construction and working. In 1847 he invent-
ed a new self-acting break. He communicated a
paper on the subject, accompanied by a model, to
the Institute of Mechanical Engineers at Birming-
ham, of which he was president.

Sir Robert Peel on more than one occasion
invited Mr. Stephenson to Drayton. He refused
at first, from an indisposition to " mix in fine com-
pany ; " but ultimately went. " On one occasion,
an animated discussion took place between him-
self and Dr. Buckland, on one of his favorite
theories as to the formation of coal ; but the re-
sult was, that Dr. Buckland, a much greater
master of tongue-fence than Stephenson, com-
pletely silenced him. Next morning, before

4:2 MEN WHO HATE KISEN.

breakfast, when he was walking in the grounds,
deeply pondering, Sir William Follett came up,
and asked what he was thinking about. ' Why,
Sir William, I am thinking over that argu-
ment I had with Buckland last night. I know
I am right, and that, if I had only the com-
mand of words which he has, I'd have beaten
him.' ' Let me know all about it,' said Sir
William, ' and I '11 see what I can do for you.
The two sat down in an arbor, where the astute
lawyer made himself thoroughly acquainted with
the points of the case, entering into it with all
the zeal of an advocate about to plead the dearest
interests of his client. After he had mastered
the subject, Sir William rose up, rubbing his
hands with glee, and said, ' Now I am ready for
him.' Sir Robert Peel was made acquainted with
the plot, and adroitly introduced the subject of
the controversy after dinner. The result was,
that, in the argument which followed, the man of
science was overcome by the man of law, and Sir
William Follett had at all points the mastery over
Dr. Buckland. ' What do you say, Mr. Stephen-
son ? ' asked Sir Robert, laughing. ' Why,' said
he, 'I will only say this, that, of all the powers
above and under the earth, there seems to me to
'be no power so great as the gift of the gab.' On
another occasion a highly original idea was struck
out by Mr. Stephenson in conversation with Dr.
Buckland. ' Now, Buckland,' said he, ' I have a
poser for you : can you tell me what is the power

STEPIIEliSOX, TIIE HALLWAY PIONEER. 43

that is driving that train ? ' ' Well,' said the
other, ' I suppose it is one of your big engines ! '
4 But what drives the engine ? ' ' Oh, very
likely a canny Newcastle driver.' ' ' What do you
say to the light of the sun ? ' ' How can that
be ? ' ' It is nothing else,' said the engineer ; ' it
is light bottled up in the earth for tens of thou-
sands of years — light absorbed by plants and
vegetables, being necessary for the condensation
of carbon during the process of their growth, if it
be not carbon in another form; and now, after
being buried in the earth for long ages in fields of
coal, that latent light is again brought forth and
liberated, made to work, as in that locomotive, for
great human purposes.' " Such an idea was more
an immediate intuition of genius, than the result
of methodical reasoning.

Sir Robert Peel made Stephenson the offer of
knighthood more than once, but he steadily re-
fused. He was not the creature of patronage,
and he did not wish to shine with borrowed lustre.
He gave a characteristic reply to a request that
he would state what were his " ornamental initials,"
in order that they might be added to his name in
the title of a work proposed to be dedicated to
him : " I have to state, that I have no flourishes
to my name, either before or after ; and I think
it will be as well if you merely say ' George Ste-
phenson.' It is true that I am a Belgian knight ;
but I do not wish to have any use made of it. I
have had the honor of knighthood cf my own

44 MEN WHO HAVE HISEN.

country made to me several times, but would not
Lave it. I have been invited to become a Fellow
of the Royal Society, and also of the Civil En-
gineers' Society, but objected to the empty addi-
tion to my name. I am a member of the Geolog-
ical Society, and I have consented to become
president of, I believe, a highly respectable Me-
chanics' Institution at Birmingham." He wished
to join the Civil Engineers' Institute ; but the
council would not waive the condition that he
should compose a probationary essay in proof of
his capacity as an engineer! Mr. Stephenson
would not stoop to enter, and turned his back
upon the Institute.

In July, 1848, though suffering from nervous
affection, he attended a meeting of the Birming-
ham Institute, and read a paper to the members
" On the Fallacies of the Rotary Engine." It
was his last appearance in public. A sudden
effusion of blood from the lungs, which followed
an attack of intermittent fever, carried him off, on
the 12th of August, 1848, in the sixty-seventh
year of his age. The death-pallor lay upon that
countenance, once so ruddy and glowing with
health ; the keen gray eye looked no longer upon
the common light of day ; the brain within that
massive forehead throbbed no more. A large
body of his workpeople, by whom he was as much
beloved as admired, followed his remains to the
grave. He was interred in Trinity Church,
Chesterfield, where a simple tablet marks his

THE RAILWAY PIOKEEK. 45

resting-place. A chaste and elegant statue of the
great engineer, produced by Mr. Gibson of Rome,
was placed in the magnificent St. George's Hall,
Liverpool. To him, more than any other man of
this century, the commercial metropolis of England
owed a debt of gratitude and a tribute of respect.
Such is a rapid review of the leading events
in the life of George Stephenson — a life pregnant
with valuable lessons and large results. He had
a, work to do in this world, and he performed his
duty ; he fulfilled his mission with manliness, with
energy, and with success. It is impossible as yet
correctly to estimate the greatness of the impulse
he has given to civilization, or to weigh in the
balance the mighty advantages, commercial, social,
and political, which he has conferred upon man-
kind. Future generations will be better able to
form a judgment and give a decision, when the
system he originated has been longer in existence,
and has attained a fuller development. Great
was the work he wrought, but still greater was
the workman. We cannot but wonder that one
born in circumstances so humble, and laboring
long under so many disadvantages, should have
been able to exemplify, more perhaps than any
other man, the masterdom of mind over matter.
He was enabled, through sheer force of intellect-
and never-failing determination, to make all diffi-
culties and every apparent disadvantage work
together for good both to himself and to the world.
Under the stern discipline of poverty find ncces

4:6 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

sity, he early grew strong in self-reliance. He had
the desire to learn, the desire to advance, and that
desire was accompanied by the resolute will which
commands success. He never thought of failure ;
he never dreamed of impossibilities ; he fixed the
whole strength of his mind upon the end to be
gained, and the means to be applied. By patient,
unwearied, self-reliant industry, he rose from ob-
scurity to world-wide renown, and emphatically
proved, throughout the whole course of his labori
ous life, that perseverance is power. By word as
by example, he strove on every available occasion
to enforce this important truth. On one of his
last public appearances, he told the mechanics of
Leeds that " he stood before them but as a hum-
ble mechanic. He had risen from a lower standing
than the meanest person there ; and all that he had
been enabled to accomplish in the course of his
life had been done through perseverance. He said
this for the purpose of encouraging youthful me-
chanics to do as he had done — to persevere." It
is remarkable that, although Stephenson was origin-
ally endowed with a strong mind, an inquiring
spirit, and great constructive skill, he attributed to
perseverance ah1 his success. Any man, he con-
sidered, might have done what he did by simple
tenacity of purpose, and the resolution to be un-
daunted by difficulties. He never plumed himself
upon the possession of superior powers, nor Avas
there any affectation in describing himself as a
humble mechanic, when he was universally recog-

6TEPHENSOX, THE RAILWAY riOJSTEEK. 47

nized as the greatest engineer of the day. He had
all the manly modesty, the unpretending, uncon-
scious greatness, which ever characterize true
genius. Social elevation did not destroy his nat-
ural humility. Popular applause he estimated at
its true value. His personal worth imparted new
dignity to his mechanical eminence ; his heart was
as sound as his head ; he was as much beloved as
he was admired. George Stephenson was, in fine,
a genuine Englishman — frank, fearless, heroic,
vigorous in thought and energetic in action. He
has left behind him a memorable name, and his
works will ever be his noblest monument.

THE

BEGINNING OF THE EOTHSCHILDS.

ON the approach of the republican army to the
territories of the Prince of Hesse Cassel, in the
early part of the French revolutionary wars, his
Serene Highness — like many other pretty princes
of Germany — was compelled to flee. In his pass-
age through the imperial city of Frankfort-on-the
Maine, he paid a hasty visit to one Moses Roths-
child, a Jewish banker of limited means, but of
good repute both for integrity- and ability in the
management of his business. The prince's pur-
pose in visiting Moses was to request him to take
charge of a large sum in money and jewels,
amounting in value to several millions of thalers,
a coin equal to seventy-five cents of our money. The
Jew at first point blank refused so dangerous a,
charge ; but, upon being earnestly pressed to take
it, at the prince's own sole risk — nay, that even a
receipt should not be required — he at length con-
sented. The money and jewels were speedily but

THE BEGINNING OF THE ROTHSCHILDS. 49

privately conveyed from the prince's treasury to
the Jew's residence ; and, just as the advanced
corps of the French army had entered through the
gates of Frankfort, Moses had succeeded in bury-
ing it in a corner of his garden. He, of course,
received a visit from the republicans ; but, true to
his trust, he hit upon the following means of sav-
ing the treasure of the fugitive prince, who had
placed such implicit confidence in his honor. He
did not attempt to conceal any of his own property
(the whole of his cash and stock consisting of only
40,000 thalers, or about $30,000), but, after the
necessary remonstrances and grumbling with his
unwelcome visitors, and a threat or two that he
should report them to the General-in-Chief — from
whom he had no doubt of obtaining redress — he
suffered them to carry it all off.

As soon as the republicans had evacuated the
city, Moses Rothschild resumed his business as
banker and money-changer ; at first, indeed in an
humble way, but daily increasing and extending
it by the aid of the Prince of Hesse Cassel's money.
In the course of a comparatively short space of
time, he was considered the most stable and opu-
lent banker in all Germany.

In the year 1802, the prince, returning to his
dominions, visited Frankfort in his route. He was
almost afraid to call on his Jewish banker ; appre-
hending that if the French had left anything, the
honesty of Moses had not been proof against so
strong a temptation as he had been compelled from
4

50 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

dire necessity to put in his way. On being intro-
duced into Rothschild's sanctum, he, in a tone of
despairing carelessness, said, " I have called on you,
Moses, as a matter of course ; but I fear the result.
Did the rascals take all ? "

" Not a thaler," replied the Jew, gravely.

" What say you ? " returned his Highness.
" Not a thaler ! Why, I was informed that the
Sans-culottes had emptied all your coffers and made
you a beggar : I even read so in the gazettes."

" Why, so they did, may it please your Serene
Highness," replied Moses ; "but I was too cunning
for them. By letting them take my own little
stock, I saved your great one. I knew that as I
was reputed wealthy, although by no means so, if
I should remove any of my own gold and silver
from their appropriate bags and coffers, the rob-
bers would be sure to search for it : and in doino-

£5

so, would not forget to dig in the garden ; it is
wonderful what a keen scent these fellows have
got ! they actually poured buckets of water over
some of my neighbors' kitchen and cellar floors, in
order to discover, by the rapid sinking of the fluid,
whether the tiles and earth had been recently dug
up ! Well, as I was saying, I buried your treasure
in the garden; and it remained untouched until
the robbers left Frankfort, to go in search of plun
der elsewhere. Now, then, to the point : as the
jSans-culottcs left me not a kreutzer to carry on
my business ; as several good opportunities offered
of making a very handsome profit ; and as I thought

THE BEGINNING OF THE KOTHSCHILDS. 51

it a pity that so much good money should lie idle,
whilst the merchants were both ready and willing
to give large interest ; the temptation of convert-
ing your Highness's florins to present use haunted
my thoughts by day and my dreams by night.
Not to detain your Highness with a long story, I
dug up the treasure, and deposited your jewels in
a strong box, from which they have never since
been moved ; I employed your gold and silver in
my business ; my speculations were profitable ; and
I am now able to restore your deposit, with five
per cent, interest since the day on which you left
it under my care."

" I thank you heartily, my good friend," said
his Highness, " for the great care you have taken
and the sacrifices you have made. As to the in-
terest of five per cent., let that replace the sum
which the French took from you ; I beg you will
add to it whatever other profits you may have
made. As a reward for your singular honesty, I
shall still leave my cash in your hands for twenty
years longer, at a low rate of two per cent, interest
per annum, the same being more as an acknowledg-
ment of the deposit, in case of the death of either
of us, than with a view of making a profit by you.
I trust that this will enable you to use my florins
with advantage in any way which may appear
most beneficial to your own interests."

The prince and his banker parted, well satisfied
with each other. Nor did the gratitude and good
will of his Serene Highness stop there — on every

OSS MEN WHO HAVE

occasion in whicli he could serve his interests he
did so, by procuring for him, from the princes of
Germany, many facilities both for international
and foreign negociation. At the congress of sove-
reigns, which met at Vienna in 1814, he did not
fail to represent the fidelity of Moses Rothschild,
and procured for him, thereby, from the Emperors
of Russia, Austria, and the other European poten-
tates, as well as from the French, English, and
other ministers, promises that in case of loans be-
ing required by their respective governments, the
" Honest Jew of Frankfort " should have th^ pre-
ference in their negociation. Nor were these prom-
ises " more honored in the breach than in the ob-
servance," as those of princes and courtiers are
proverbially said to be. A loan of 200 millions of
francs being required by the French government
to pay the Allied Powers for the expenses they had
been put to in the restoration of the Bourbons, one
of old Rothschild's sons, then residing at Paris,
was intrusted with its management. The same
was accordingly taken at 67 per cent., and sold to
the public in a very few days at 93 ! thereby yield-
ing an immense profit to the contractor. Other
loans followed to various powers, all of which turn-
ed out equal to the most sanguine expectations of
this lucky family, who are now in possession of
such immense wealth, that it is supposed they
could at will change the destinies of the nations of
Europe.

THE KISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY.

ABOUT a week before Whitsuntide, in the year
1765, at nine o'clock in the morning, a line of
Manchester bell-horses (nineteen in number),
loaded with packs and attended by chapmen,
were seen by the weavers of Irwell Green, de-
scending from the moors by the bridle-road into
that hamlet. The weavers (thirty in number,
or thereabout) stopped their looms, and went
forth to ask questions about trade, wages, prices,
politics ; Lord Bute, Grenville, William Pitt (the
elder), and young King George III. ; and to in-
quire if there were a likelihood of the young king
doing anything for the good of trade.

The spinning women had come forth also from
their spinning-wheels, and, in reference to them,
Mr. William Garland, a merchant (locally called
a Manchester warehouseman), who had accom-
panied his pack-horses thus far to make some ar-
rangements with the resident weavers of this
hamlet, said, " If the young king would make the

MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

lasses spin more, he would do some good." " Or,"
said a weaver, " an t' king would make a spinning-
wheel to spin two threads instead of one, it would
be some good." " Nonsense," replied another; " no
man can make a wheel to spin two threads at once ;
no, not even King George upon the throne."

The chapmen having baited their horses, pro-
ceeded on their journey towards Blackburn, which
they hoped to reach early in the afternoon. When
they were gone, the children of Irwell Green
ranged themselves in a troop across the stony
causeway, hand in hand, and sang,

"Bell-horses, bell-horses, what time o1 day?
One o'clock, two o'clock, three, and away ! "

At the word " away," they raised a shout, ran
down the causeway, their wooden-soJed clogs
clattering on the stones as loudly as all the
shuttles of Irwell Green. About two in the after-
noon, the bell-horses reached Blackburn.

If the reader should ever visit Blackburn — wind-
ing through the vales by the turnpike road, or, on
the railway, through tunnels, over ravines, along
the mountain-sides — he will find it a town contain-
ing fifty thousand people, or thereabout, with
narrow, crooked streets, situated on undulating
ground. It is surrounded by hills ; and a rivulet,
a canal, a railway, and several thoroughfares run
through it. The whole town of gray stone houses,
with stone roofs, and the country of green pastures
rising around, are less changed for better or worse

THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 55

than any other town and neighborhood which ex-
isted in the middle of last century in Lancashire.
This has resulted from the early and long sustained
resistance of the inhabitants to the mechanical in-
ventions which had their origin in that vicinity.

Being a stranger in Blackburn, you will doubt-
less visit Stanehill Moor and Peel Fold — the one
the birth-place of the spinning-jenny, and of James
Ilargreav es, its inventor ; the other, of the Peels ;
and, though not the birth-place of the art of print-
ing calico, nor, perhaps its cradle, yet certainly its
infant-school.

If you leave the town by yonder windmill on the
rising ground, your face northeast, and, where the
road divides, take that branch going due east, you
will, having proceeded about two and a half miles,
turn to your right hand, and face southward. As
you approach the village of Knuzden Brook, lift
your eyes towards the plantation which runs from
west to east, and crowns that green upland. Be-
hind that plantation lies Stanehill Moor, in one of
the houses of which the spinning-jenny was in-
vented ; and that farm-house — with cowsheds,
barn, and iuclosure walls, all built of gray stone
raid roofed with the same — is Peel Fold. Forty
acres of that cold, wet pasture land, with these
buildings, formed the inheritance of the Peels.

With this view and knowledge of the estate, it
will not surprise you to be told that the Robert
Peel born in 1714, who married Elizabeth How-
arth of Walmsley Fold, in 1744, and had a family

56 MEN WHO HATE RISEN.

of five sons and a daughter in 1755, was not, as
some heraldic writers have written, a " yeoman,
living on and cultivating his own estate." He did
not cultivate it at all, except a garden for pot-
herbs ; nor did he live on it in the sense indicated.
He was a " yeoman," it is true, and sold the milk
and butter of four or five cows in Blackburn ; but
he was a weaver also, and was too shrewd a man
of the world not to educate his sons to industrial
pursuits of a like kind. They, too, were weavers.
In yonder house, to which our footsteps now tend,
were at least two looms in 1765. His children
were, William, born 1745; Edmund, born 1748;
Robert, born April 25, 1750 (whose son, Sir Robert
Peel, the eminent statesman, died one hundred
years afterwards, July 2, 1850); Jonathan, born
1752; Anne, born 1753; Lawrence, born 1755;
some others who died in infancy ; Joseph, bora
1766; and John, whose birth occurred after the
family were driven out of Lancashire by the in-
surgent spinning women, probably at Burton-on-
Trent, Staffordshire.

Here it may be as well to remark, that, though
the tradition which the reader is about to know
is shaped somewhat like a story, we have not
dared, for the sake of a story, to falsify incidents
so truly national and historical, though so little
known. The incidents and domestic economy of
Peel Fold about to be described are such as old
people, with whom we became acquainted a few
yeais ago, related. We have conversed with per-

THE KISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 57

sons who had seen the Robert and Elizabeth Peel
now under notice ; who had also seen James Har-
greaves, inventor of the spinning-jenny ; and the
fathers and mothers of these aged persons were
the neighbors of Robert Peel and James Har
greaves, and had often spoken of them to their
sons and daughters.

Some tune in the year 1764, one of the boys at
Peel Fold, in weaving a piece of cloth of linen and
cotton mixture, spoiled it for the Blackburn cloth
market. It was taken to Bamber Bridge, near
Preston, to be printed for kerchiefs, there being a
small print-work at that place, the only one in
Lancashire, and, except at Cray, near London, the
only one in England. The real object of Robert
Peel, in taking this piece of cloth to be printed,
was alleged, however, to be a desire to see the
process. In this he was disappointed ; the works
were kept secret. Such being the case, he induced
Mr. Harry Garland, son of the Manchester ware-
houseman, to take note of the Cray print-works
Avhen he next went to London with his father's
pack-horses, and if possible to procure some of the
patterns, colors, gums, and printing-blocks. The
first visit of Harry Garland to Blackburn, after at-
tending to this business, was on that day near
Whitsuntide, 1765. On the afternoon of that day
(we were told it was so, but it might have been on
another day), James Hargreaves was " at play," as
the weavers termed it, for want of weft. His
wife had given birth to an infant, and was still in

58 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN".

bed, and could not spin. The spinning women
were all too well employed to give him weft, ex-
cept as a very great favor, though highly paid ;
and, now that he was a married man, favors were
not so readily obtained. Besides, under ordinary
circumstances, his wife could spin more weft than
most other women. She was such an extraordinary
spinner for diligence and speed, that people called
her " Spinning Jenny."

James at last determined to step across " the
waste " and the stone quarry to Peel Fold, and
borrow weft. Neighbor Peel he knew to be a
careful man : doubtless he would have enough for
the lads (Edmund, Robert, and Jonathan, who
were on the loom — William was otherwise em-
ployed), and might have some to spare. True,
he was a shade beyond being careful — he was
narrow; but James Hargreaves had taught the
boys how to use the fly-shuttle — a recent inven-
tion of the Brothers Kay of Bury. He hoped,
therefore, they would not refuse a loan of some
weft.*

James reasoned rightly. He was accommodated
with weft, and invited to partake of their frugal
supper. Had you been present while the rustic
mess was preparing, and Hargreaves was em-
ployed in sorting out and counting the copes of
weft, you would have observed that the kitchen

* The weft of a web is the cross threads wound into copes or
pirns," and placed in the shuttle ; the warp is the longitudinal
threads.

THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 59

in which you sat was large enough to hold two
looms, a carding stock, a reel, and other imple-
ments of in-door and out-door labor, with space
still unoccupied. You would have seen the reeds
and headles to be used in the looms when required,
hanging from the joists ; the oatmeal jannock (the
common bread in Lincolnshire in those days),
hanging over spars, like leather ; bundles of yarn ;
bacon, for family use and for sale ; some books, of
which one was the Holy Bible, covered with un-
tanned calf-skin, tjie hair outside — a part of the
same skin whish Robert Peel wore for a waist-
coat. You would have seen that he wore a coat
of homespun wool, undyed ; breeches of the same,
tied at the knee with leather thongs ; an apron of
flannel ; stockings made of the undyed wool of a
black and a white sheep, mixed; clogs, made of
leather above, and wood and iron below ; a brown
felt hat, once black, turned up behind and at the
sides, and pointed before. His sons were dressed
in the same manner, except that they had buckles
at their knees instead of leather thongs, and waist-
coats of stuff like their mother's linsey-woolsey
gown, instead of call-skin. You would have seen
and heard that Mrs. Peel trod the same floor in
wooden-soled clogs, while the clat-clatting of
little Anne gave the same intimation. On seeing
the family seated around the table uncovered, you
would have observed, by their golden-tinged hair,
short and curly, that they still retained the Scan-
dinavian temperament of their Danish ancestors,

60 MEN WHO HATE EISEK.

who, as rovers of the sea, are supposed to have
brought the lineage and name of Peel to England.
Their neighbor Hargreaves, you would have
seen, was a short, broadly formed man, with hard
black hair. He did not stand above five feet live ;
Robert Peel stood five feet eleven inches, rather
more.

Being seated, and seeing his wife sit down, he
said, " 'Lizabeth, are you ready ? " to which she,
having put a portion of the supper on a platter,
to cool for the younger children, and lifted her
finger in sign of admonition to be silent and still,
answered, " Say away, Robert," and bowed her
head. The father looked around, and, seeing that
his children had bent their heads and were still,
bowed his own, and addressed himself to the Most
High. He besought a blessing on their food, on
all their actions, on all their varied ways through
life, and for mercy to their manifold sins. To
which they all said, " Amen."

Soon after, William, the eldest son, came in
from Blackburn. He said Harry Garland and
other chapmen had come as far as the Pack
Horse, at the Brook, but had gone in there, and
he thought Garland was not much short of tipsy ;
they had been drinking at the Black Bull in
Blackburn before starting. Saying which, he
asked, " Mother, is there no supper for me ? "
She replied, " In t' oven ; in t' dish ; dinnot fear
but thy share were set by for thee."

Presently the dogs, Brock and Flowery, began

THE BISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 61

to bark, and the sound told they were running up
the path toward the plantation. This indicated
the approach of a stranger. Anne and little Law-
rence ran, spoons in hand, their clogs clattering on
the stones, and returned in fright, saying it was a
man who wore a red coat, and with a sword in his
hand ; and he was like to cut off the heads of
Brock and Flowery with it for barking at him ;
upon which William observed, he dared say it was
Harry Garland. Robert, the third son, laid down
his spoon, saying he would call in the dogs ; but
his father bade him stay ; he would go himself, and
went. It was Harry Garland. Mr. Peel, desiring
to speak with him privately about the printing at
Cray, took him into another apartment. They re-
mained there more than an hour. The girl and
the youngest boy looked through the keyhole, and,
returning to the kitchen, said the stranger was
showing father such beautiful paper, and such a
curious piece of wood, and such lovely things. But
their mother interrupted them, saying, "Howd
thee tongue, and sit thee down." James Har-
greaves, thinking, correctly enough, that his pres-
ence stood in the way of some private business,
took the copes of weft in his apron, and went home.
Presently the private conference was at an end,
and the visitor, with Mr. Peel, went to the
kitchen.

Harry Garland was a handsome young man, in
his twentieth year. He had dark brown hair,
tied behind with blue ribbon ; clear, mirthful

62 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

eyes; boots which reached above his knees; a
broad-skirted scarlet coat, with gold lace on the
cuffs, the collar and the skirts, and a long waist-
coat of blue silk. His breeches were buckskin ;
his hat was three-cornered, set jauntily higher on
the right than on the left side. In his breast-
pockets he carried loaded pistols, and, dangling
from his waistbelt, a short, heavy sword, suffi-
ciently strong to cut the branches from a tree, or
kill a highwayman. He thus appeared, on or-
dinary days, in the dress and accoutrements
which a Manchester chapman only wore on holi-
days, or at a wedding, or at church. Mr. Peel
had invited him, when in the private apartment,
to stay all night ; but no, he must be in Black-
burn, he said, to go early in the morning to
Preston. Besides, he had friends at the Pack
Horse, down at the Brook, awaiting his return.
Would William, Edmund, and Robert step that
length with him? Their father, answering, said,
" No, they cannot go out." They inclined to go ;
the smart dress of the handsome Harry Garland,
his lively conversation, his knowledge of the social
and commercial world, so far exceeding theirs, in-
clined them to his company. But their father had
said " No." They said nothing.

Robert Peel had work for himself and his sons
which required to be done that night. He accord-
ingly called them together, and said it was not so
much that he objected to their being with Gar-
land, though doubtless they might find more pro-

THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 63

fitable company, as truly as they might find
worse; but he had objected to their going out
because there was work to do. "Seest thou a
man diligent in his business," he quoted, "he
shall stand before kings." He then told them to
get the hand-barrow, the sledge-hammer, the iron
wedges, the pinch (an iron lever), the two crow-
bars, and the pick, and that perhaps they might
also require the spade. They put the wedges,
hammer, and pick on the barrow, and Anne and
Lawrence on the top of them. William and Ed-
mund took their places upon the shafts ; their
father went on before with the spade under his
arm, Robert with him, walking sturdily with the
iron lever on his shoulder. It was a clear moon-
light night. When they came to the quarry, they
removed some surface earth and rubbish, and, hav-
ing laid bare a stratum of rock likely to split into
slabs, they began to use the pick. They marked
a surface of solid stone five feet long and twenty
inches wide, or thereabout. They made a series of
incisions along the line, about five inches apart,
into which they set the iron wedges. After tapping
them gently, to make their points lay hold, Mr.
Peel, who was the steadiest hand at the large
hammer, swung it round his head, and gave each
of the wedges a blow in turn, until the block was
rent from the mass, as desired. The points of the
pick and lever were then inserted in the rent.
The crowbars, unfortunately, were found to be
short and powerless. The father and two of tho

64 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

sons laid all their weight and strength on the long
pinch; another worked the pick as a lever, and
poised the block outward and upward. Jonathan
had a small hard stone ready, and Anne another
a little larger. The smallest was dropped, as di-
rected, into the opening. Then they let go with
the levers, and took a deeper hold, the small hard
stone keeping the block from subsiding to its
place. Having got a deeper hold, they gave their
united weight and strength to the leverage again,
and the opening being wider, Anne dropped in
the larger of the hard stones. Again they let the
block rest, and, getting a still deeper hold, they
poised it upward and outward further, and Jona-
than, having got a larger hard stone, dropped it
in. By two other holds and rests, conducted in
like manner, they overturned the block, two-and-
twenty inches thick, or thereabout, to its side.
On examining it all round, and detecting no break
nor flaw, they estimated that, could they split ifc
into four equal slabs of five and a half inches thick,
they would have as many stone tables as were re-
quired. To split the block into four slabs, it was
necessary to make three rows of incisions with the
pick, into which to introduce the wedges. This
was done, and the slabs being split, were dressed
a little at the ends and sides. Turning one of
them on edge, they placed the hand-barrow on
edge beside it, and brought barrow and stone
down, the stone uppermost, as desired. Turning
it cross ways, that its ends should project to the

THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 65

sides, and enable one at each end to attach his
sustaining strength, Robert and Edmund were al-
lotted to that duty. Their father and William, as
the stronger of the four, took their places between
the shafts — the father behind, William before.
They got it out of the quarry by the exercise o*
sheer strength. But to get it over the steps
going out of the waste into the plantation, re-
quired skill and caution, as well as strength. It
was both difficult and dangerous. Nor were they
clear of danger going down the path which led
athwart the slope. Their feet had a tendency to
slip, and the stone naturally slid to the lowest
side ; but the youth who had charge of that end
kept it up manfully. Without hurt or mishap,
they got it to the kitchen door. So, in due time,
they got the other three ; but, before they were
done, the perspiration was dripping from all the
four. They sat down to rest and wipe their warm
faces, and found the time was an hour past midnight.
There was not space for them all to work in the
small back room at laying the slabs. The father
and the two elder sons laid them at the proper
height for working upon with printing blocks, as
described by Harry Garland. In that room they
remain at this day, as then laid down. In that
room the visitor still sees those slabs of stone upon
which the Peels made their first essays in printing
calicoes — upon which they took tne first step to-
wards that wonderful fortune of wealth and fame
which then lay before them unknown.
5

66 MEN WHO HAVE EISEJST.

Though the hour was Lite, young Robert Peel
was too full of ideas about designs for the blocks
he intended to carve for printing, to go to sleep.
He went out to the moor in the moonlight, to
gather a handfull of bilberry leaves, or other foli-
age, which might be copied. (The first thing
printed at Peel Fold was a parsley leaf.) Going
to the moor, the youth had to pass near the house
of James Hargreaves. He saw a light in the win-
dow. Seeing a shadow moving, he halted for a
moment, and that moment revealed enough to de-
tain him half an hour. He was surprised, not
alone to see the weaver up at that hour, but to see
his singular, his inexplicable employment. To
comprehend what that was, let us return to Gar-
land's departure from Peel Fold, as told before.

When Harry had crossed the waste, he met
James Hargreaves, carrying two pails of water for
domestic use, and asked him to go down the hill,
and drink a " gill of ale " at the Horse. James
considered a minute, set down his pails, twisted
his body, rolled one shoulder forward, the other
back, chipped the stones of the road with his iron-
shod clogs, and confessed that he had no objection
to a gill of ale at the Horse, were it not that he
had Jenny's gruel to make. But, again, there was
Kan Pilkington who would make the gruel. Also,
there was Charlotte Marsden at the Horse, who
was always at her wheel, and Alice, her sister, who
also was a spinner when not waiting on the cus-
tomers; perhaps they might have weft ready

THE HISS OF THE PEEL FAMILY. GT

which nobody had bespoke. The balance of rea-
sons for and against going to the Horse was thus
found to be in favor of going. So, taking in the
water, and directing Nan Pilkington's attention to
Jenny's gruel, he called on Joe Pilkington, the
singing weaver, and both went.

They joined the chapmen from Blackburn, and
were soon in a merry mood. Joe Pilkington was
ready with a song at any time. Perhaps they
would have sat later than the usually sober hours
of James Hargreaves, had not an accident oc-
curred which disconcerted Garland, and suggested
to Hargreaves to go home. Harry had seated
himself beside Charlotte Marsden, where she was
spinning at the further end of the spacious kitchen.
In this apartment the company were assembled.
Some who knew the lofty spirit of the beautiful
Charlotte, offered to wager with Garland that he
could not kiss her. The forward youth attempted
the rash act without hesitation ; upon which she
called him an impudent moth, and, rising indig-
nantly, overturned her spinning-wheel. It fell
backward. The spindle, which before had been
horizontal, the point towards the maiden's left
hand, stood upright. The wheel, which had been
upright, and turned by her right hand (its band
turning the spindle), was now horizontal. It con-
tinued to revolve in that position, and to turn the
spindle. In a moment, a thought — an inspiration
of thought — fixed the eyes of Hargreaves upon
it. Garland pursued the indignant Charlotte out

68 MEN WHO HATE BISECT.

of the apartment. The company followed, urging
him to the renewal of his rudeness, which, the
more he tried to succeed in, the more he seemed
to be baffled and humiliated. In their absence,
J.ames Hargreaves turned the wheel with his right
hand, it still lying as it fell, and, drawing the rov-
ing of cotton with his left, saw that the spindle
made as good a thread standing vertically as it
had done horizontally. " Then why," his inspira-
tion of thought suggested, " should not many
spindles, all standing upright, all moved by a band
crossing them from the wheel, like this single
spindle, each with a bobbin on it, and a roving of
cotton attached, and something like the finger and
thumb, which now take hold of the one roving, to
lay hold of them all, and draw them backward
from the spindles into attenuated threads ? Why
should not many spindles be moved, and threads
be spun by the same wheel and band which now
spin only one ? "

Hearing the company return, James Hargreaves
lifted the wheel to its feet, placed the roving in
its right place, and said, " Sit thee down, Char-
lotte; let him see thee spin; who can tell what
may come of this ! " Then, after a pause, and a
reflection that he should retain his new ideas as
secrets of his own at present, he continued : " Thou
maybe his wife; more unlikely things have hap-
pened ; it will be a fine thing to be lady of all that
owd Billy Garland may leave some day."

" Yf ifb, indeed ! " interjected the vexed maiden ;

THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. G9

" the moth ! "Wife, indeed ! Who would be wife
to it?"

" Weel," said James, " be that as it may ; but
I mun go whoam; my wife thinks whoam the
best place for me, and I think so mysen."

Remarks were made as to why he was going so
soon. But Harry Garland had lost spirit after
the conflict, and felt the scorn of the maiden more
keenly than any reproof which had ever fallen
upon his impudence before. He was not in a
humor to solicit James Hargreaves to remain ; so
they parted.

James had reached home two or three hours be-
fore young Robert Peel observed the light in his
window. On the lad approaching the window,
the weaver was standing motionless. Suddenly
he dropped upon his knees, and rolled on the stone
floor at full length. He lay with his face towards
the floor, and made lines and circles with the end
of a burned stick. He rose, and went to the fire
to burn his stick. He took hold of his bristly
hair with one hand, and rubbed his forehead and
nose with the other and the blackened stick.
Then he sat upon a chair, and placed his head be-
tween his hands, his elbows on his knees, and
gazed intently on the floor. Then he sprang to
his feet, and replied to some feeble question of his
wife (who had not risen since the day she gave
birth to a little stranger), by a loud assurance that
he had it; and, taking her in his sturdy arms, in
the blankets, the baby in her arms, he lifted her

fO MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

out, and held her over the black drawings on the
floor. These he explained, and she joined a small,
hopeful, happy laugh with his high-toned assur-
ance, that she should never again toil at the spin-
ning-wheel— that he would never again "play,"
and have his loom standing for want of weft. She
asked some questions, which he answered, after
seating her in the arm-chair, by laying her spin-
ning-wheel on its back, the horizontal spindle
standing vertically, while he made the wheel re-
volve, and drew a roving of cotton from the spindle
into an attenuated thread. " Our fortune is made
when that is made," he said, speaking of his draw-
ings on the floor.

" What will you call it ? " asked his wife.

" Call it ? What an we call it after thysen,
Jenny ! They called thee c Spinning Jenny ' afore
I had thee, because thou beat every lass in Stane-
hill Moor at the wheel. What if we call it ' Spin-
ning Jenny ? '"

It was all a mystery to Robert Peel. He went
home wTith his bilberry leaves, and went to bed,
wondering if Hargreaves were out of his mind, or
if he, too, were inventing something, or about to
make experiments in some new process of working.

The principle of spinning by rollers, usually
called Arkwright's invention, was not introduced
until about four years after the invention of the
jenny. Whether it was original to Arkwright,
cannot now be told ; but Mr. Baines of Leeds,
and other diligent inquirers, have established the

THE SPINNING JEXNY.
i ma.ld when tlmt i» ina.lj, Uj taiJ, K{.eakinj of Li* drawin~son the fl<

THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 71

fact that an ingenious man named Wyatt, erect-
ed a machine at Birmingham, and afterwards at
Sutton Coldfield, in Warwickshire, twenty years
before Arkwright evolved his idea, which was in
principle the same — namely, that a pair of rollers
with slow motion drew in a roving of cotton, and
a second pair, with an accelerated motion, drew
the roving from the other. All the varieties of
cotton-spinning machinery have sprung from those
two — the rollers of Wyatt (or Arkwright) and the
jenny of Hargreaves. A farmer, named Samuel
Crompton, living at Hall-i'-th'-wood, near Bolton,
was the first to combine them in one machine ;
this was called the " mule."

Returning to the Peel family, we see Robert, the
son, following the printing of calicoes with enthu-
siasm. He obtains lessons at Bamber Bridge. We
see his father engaged in constructing a machine
for carding cotton into rovings, preparatory to spin-
ning. Instead of two flat cards set full of small
wiry teeth, the one card to work over the other,
this machine of Robert Peel the elder is a cylinder
covered with such wiry teeth. It revolves, and a
flat card writh a vertical. motion works upon it.
The carding by cylinders obtains to this day ; and
there is no reason to doubt that it was invented
at Peel Fold. It was, however, first erected for
use at Brookside, a mile distant, for the conve-
nience of water power. You look down upon the
place called Brookside from Stanehill Moor, your
face turned to the south-west. There, also, Mr.

72 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

Peel and Ms sons erected the first of Hargreaves'
spinning-jennies, which was set in motion by
water power, they being previously moved by hand.

It was now, 1766, that the murmurs of the
spinning women ripened to acts of violence. At
first the men were pleased with the jenny, which
gave eight threads of weft instead of one; but,
when it threatened to supersede hand-spinning
altogether, they joined with the women in resist-
ing its use. They marched out of Blackburn in
mobs, and broke all the jennies, reduced the works
at Brookside to absolute wreck, and leveled the
house of James Hargreaves at Stanehill Moor
with the ground. Hargreaves, his wife and child,
fled for their lives, first to Manchester, and then
to Nottingham. After many difficulties, he ob-
tained the assistance of a person named Strutt,
and the jenny was brought into use at Nottingham
(1766-67), also at Derby. Mr. Strutt made a
fortune out of it, which, with his sagacity, in-
tegrity, and business habits, has descended to the
eminent family who still bear that name at Derby.
It has been said that James Hargreaves died a
pauper at Nottingham. This was repeated in
books for many years; but more recent investi-
gation has proved that, though neither so rich as
the Strutts, Peels, or Arkwrights, he was not a
pauper. In his will he bequeathed £4,000 to
relatives.

When the buildings and machinery were de-
molished at Brookside, the mob proceeded to Al-

THE KISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 73

tham, six miles distant, and destroyed the works
which William Peel, the eldest son, had erected
there. Everywhere the Peels were hunted for the
next twelve months. At last the father turned
his back on Lancashire, and took up his abode at
Burton-on-Trent, in Staffordshire, where he es-
tablished both spinning and printing. Meanwhile
Robert, the third son, was diligently fulfilling an
apprenticeship with the Bamber Bridge printers
already named. When at liberty to enter upon
business for himself, he selected a green, sunny
spot, with abundance of water, close to the town
of Bury, in Lancashire. His brothers did the
same, at the hamlet of Church, near to which has
since arisen the thriving and populous town of
Accrington.

The wonderful success of the whole family of
the Peels as merchants, manufacturers, and calico
printers, is a part of the industrial history of Brit-
ain. Nothing more can be done here than to
name it. Robert, from the magnitude of his works
at Bury, and from his political tendencies, became
the best known. He married the daughter of Mr.
Yates, one of his partners in business, and by her
had a large family.

He extended his works to other places than
Bury. Near Tamworth, in Staffordshire, he ac-
quired property (where there was an abundance
of water), and built the town of Fazeley, besides
giving employment to the population of Tamworth.
In 1790 he became member of Parliament for tho
4

74 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

latter glace. In 1797, when the government was
distressed for money, he subscribed £10,000 to
the voluntary contribution. Next year, when in-
vasion was first seriously feared, he raised six com-
panies of volunteers, chiefly among his own work-
people at Bury, and became their lieutenant-
colonel. He published several political pamphlets.
He was the first to claim legislative protection to
young persons employed in factories. He had
been careful to regulate his own establishment
more in accordance with humanity than most of
his neighbors, and founded his bill of 1802 to
" ameliorate the condition of apprentices in the
cotton and woolen trade " on the regulations which
he had practically adopted. At various times he
re-opened this question during the next seventeen
years, but never with that success which he de-
sired. In 1801, he was created a baronet; about
which time he purchased the estate of Drayton
Manor, close beside Fazeley. He died there, and
was interred in the church of Drayton Bassett, in
1830, where the escutcheon, with its bees and the
word "industria," was raised over his tomb by his
more celebrated son. But there, too, the son is
now lying — " Dust to dust, ashes to ashes."

His son, the second Sir Robert Peel, was born
5th February, 1788, at Bury. His latter years
were identified with the untaxing of bread, and
Bury was the first to propose a monument to his
memory in gratitude for that legislation. This
monument was completed, and opened to public

THE JtlSE OF THE TEEL FAMILY. 75

view on the 8th September, 1852. It bears the
following inscription, quoted from one of his latest
speeches : " It may be that I shall leave a name
sometimes remembered with expressions of good-
will in the abodes of those whose lot it is to earn
their daily bread by the sweat of their brow, when
they shall recruit their exhausted strength with
abundant and untaxed food — the sweeter because
it is no longer leavened by a sense of injustice."

From Bury he was sent to school at Harrow,
where he displayed great diligence and aptitude
for learning. Lord Byron was his contemporary,
and, long before the statesman reached his great
eminence, bore testimony to his unusual ability
and diligence. He said : " Peel, the orator and
statesman that was, or is, or is to be, was my form-
fellow, and we were both at the top of our remove,
in public phrase. We were on good terms, but
his brother was my intimate friend. There were
always great hopes of Peel amongst us all, masters
and scholars, and he has not disappointed us. As
a scholar, he was greatly my superior ; as a de-
claimev and actor, I was reckoned at least his
equal. As a schoolboy out of school, I was always
in scrapes ; he never ; and in school he always
knew his lesson, and I rarely." Mr. Peel pro-
ceeded to Christ-Church, Oxford. On taking his
degree, he was the first man in his year. In 1809,
he obtained a seat in Parliament for the borough
of Cashel, in Ireland. In 1810 he was made
\mder-secretary of state. In September, 1812, he

76 MEN wno HAVE EISEN.

was appointed chief secretary for Ireland. In
1817, Mr. Abbott, speaker of the House, and mem-
ber for the University of Oxford, being elevated
to the peerage, Mr. Peel was elected for the uni-
versity in his stead. In 1822, he succeeded Lord
Sidrnouth as secretary of state for the home de-
partment, and, with a short interval, filled that
office eight years. In 1819, he carried a measure
effecting great changes in the currency. In 1826,
he introduced measures for the reform of the crim-
inal code. In 1828-29, he reformed the police
system ; and in the latter year, with the Duke of
Wellington, carried the Catholic Emancipation
Act. Before entering on this last measure, he
resigned his seat for the university, and stood a
new election, but was rejected. In 1830, he suc-
ceeded to the baronetcy and a magnificent fortune
as Sir Robert Peel. In 1831-32, he opposed Lord
John Russell's Reform Bill. In addressing the
electors of Tarn worth, in 1832, he made a declara-
tion of his principles, which did not seem so true
then as it does now, when his life and legislation
are a part of national history. He said : "I have
never been the decided supporter of any band
of partisans, but have always thought it better
to look steadily at the peculiar circumstances of
the times in which we live, and, if necessities were
so pressing as to demand it, to conclude that there
was no discredit or dishonor in relinquishing
opinions or measures, and adopting others more
suited to the altered state of the country."

THE KISE OF THE TEEL FAMILY. 77

In the month of November, 1834, Sir Robert
Peel, being in Rome, received a message that his
presence was desired in London, to place himself
at the head of a Conservative ministry. He obeyed
the summons; but the ministry only retained
office until the month of April, 1835. He re-
mained out of office until 1841. In that year he
became prime minister, and, in 1842, surprised
both his adherents and opponents by the boldness
of his financial measures. He proposed an income
and property tax, to supply the deficiency in the
exchequer, which had been gradually increasing,
and causing alarm over several years ; and he
proposed to exempt from the tariff of customs
duties many hundreds of articles. Some of these
yielded little or no revenue, and were only a
hindrance to commercial business ; others entered
largely into manufactures, as the raw material of
industry. He still resisted the repeal of the corn
laws; but yearly his resistance became more
feeble, until, on the 4th of December, 1845, he
announced his intention to propose the abolition
of the corn laws in the ensuing session of Parlia-
ment. This was accomplished, and the act took
full effect on the 1st February, 1849.

In the latter part of the session of 1846, Sir
Robert Peel resigned office. He occasionally
spoke in the House afterwards, but evinced no
desire to return to offi'.c. When His Royal High-
ness Prince Albert propounded the plan for a
Great Exhibition of the Industry of all Notions,

78 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

for tlie year 1851, Sir Robert Peel entered
heartily into it, was nominated a commissioner,
and was, up to the week of his death, the most
unweariedly working member of the commission.

On the 29th of June, 1850, when riding on
horseback on Constitution Hill, near Buckingham
Palace, in London, he was seen to fall from his
horse. Whether the horse stumbled, or he had
lost his balance in a fit, no one could tell. He
was bruised, and so severely injured, that he never
recovered consciousness. He died on the 2d of
July, in the 62d year of his age.

The following extract from a letter, written by
the father of the statesman, relating to his father,
the Robert Peel of 1765, with whom we started,
is worth perusal. It was written in 1821. He
said — " My father moved in a confined sphere, and
employed his talents in improving the cotton trade.
. . . I lived under his roof until I attained the
age of manhood, and had many opportunities of
discovering that he possessed in an eminent degree
a mechanical genius and a good heart. He had
many sons, and placed them all in situations that
they might be useful to each other. The cotton
trade was preferred, as best calculated to this ob-
ject ; and by habits of industry, and imparting to
his offspring an intimate knowledge of the various
branches of the cotton manufacture, he lived to
see his children connected together in business,
and, by his successful exertions, to become, with-
out one exception, opulent and happy. My father

THE KISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 79

may be truly said to have been the founder of our
family ; and he so accurately appreciated the im-
portance of commercial wealth in a national point
of view, that he was often heard to say, that the
gains to the individual were small compared with
the national gain arising from trade."

Is there a moral to be derived from the history
of the Peel family ? It was seen in the obedience
of the boys to their father in 1765 — "Seest thou
a man diligent in his business," said he, " he shall
stand before kings." Harry Garland, the gay
Manchester chapman, became a ruined spendthrift.

WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST.

THE name of Alexander Wilson — " Scottish
poet and American ornithologist" — is dear to
every admirer of genius, to every one, indeed, who
loves to think of talent and worth struggling with
adverse circumstances, and, by dint of patience
and perseverance, rising to honor and fame.

He was born in the Seedhills of Paisley on the
6th of July, 1766. His father (though formerly
he had been a distiller on a limited scale) followed
the occupation of a weaver, and at one time pos-
sessed looms and employed journeymen. In per-
sonal appearance he is said to have greatly resem-
bled his son, whom he survived a few years.

The future poet and ornithologist was, it ap-
pears, intended by his parents for the church ;
but his mother, with whom the idea seems to have
originated, suddenly died, and with her perished
the young man's hopes of filling the position to
which he had been taught to aspire. In his
thirteenth year he was apprenticed to a weaver,

WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 81

an engagement which lasted three years, and
which was faithfully fulfilled. For four years
after this Wilson was employed as a journeyman
weaver — sometimes in Paisley and sometimes in
Lochwinnoch. It was during these years that he
was first visited by the muse, and some of his pieces
gained no little repute in his native town.

In his twentieth year a new calling opened tip
to Wilson. William Duncan, his brother-in-law,
with whom he was now employed, having deserted
the weaving in order to follow out a mercantile
speculation on the eastern coasts of Scotland,
Wilson determined, though at an humble distance,
to follow his example. He accordingly devoted
himself to the wandering life of a peddler or " chap-
man," an occupation then more frequently followed
than at present, the contents of his wallet or
" pack " consisting of a miscellaneous assortment
of such articles of dress, bijouterie, <fcc., as were
likely to be in request in the houses of the farmers
or peasantry. A love of " rural sights and rural
sounds," combined with a certain shrewd talent
for the observation of character, which distin-
guished the poet, must have lent a peculiar charm
to such an employment. The idea occurred to
Wilson that he might advantageously add a
volume of poems to the other attractions of his
pack ; and having got prospectuses printed, he
set out in September, 1789, for Edinburgh — in
order, as he says in his journal, "to make one
bold push for the united interests of pack and
6

82 MEN WHO HAVE PJSEN.

poems." In his new character of peddler-poet, he
did not long remain in Edinburgh, but proceeded
at once to the towns on the eastern coast. The
journal which he kept during the excursion was
afterwards printed with his poems. It is cleverly
written — a kind of prose of a much higher order
than his poetry — and contains some shrewd obser-
vations, with a few sketches of the more remarkable
characters which fell in his way. In the course
of his wanderings, he met in with " a school-
master, who seemed to be a son of Bacchus, learn-
ing, and snuff; for after several favorable obser
vations on the specimen (of his poems), and an
enormous draught of snuff, he declared he would
most certainly take a copy. 4 But remember,5
says he, 'by Jupiter, we will offer up one-half
of its price at the shrine of Bacchus.' " In the
same town he encountered a brother of the
rhyming craft, whom " he began to interrogate as
to his knowledge of poetry, but found him entirely
ignorant of everything save rhyme. Happening
to ask him if he had ever read any of Pope or
Milton's pieces, he told me he never had, for he
did not understand one word of Latin. I showed
him my proposals, asked him to subscribe, and
said I knew the author. He read part of them
with excessive laughter, declared that the author
was certainly a learned fellow, and that he would
cheerfully subscribe, but that his wife was such a
person that if she knew of him doing anything
without her approbation, there would be no peace

WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 83

in the house for months to come. 'And, by the
by,' says he, ' we are most dismally poor.' I told
him that poverty was the characteristic of a poet.
4 You are right,' said he, ' and for that very reason
I am proud of being poor.' "

After much hard labor and many rebuffs — the
poet meanwhile subsisting on the sales from his
pack — he at length got a goodly few subscribers ;
and having retraced his steps to his native town,
he engaged with a bookseller, and "rushed on
publication." His next step was a second peregri-
nation to deliver the copies which had been sub-
scribed for. Here again the pack was called into
requisition, to sustain him during the distribution
of his " rhyming ware." The few opening sen-
tences of his journal, descriptive of his setting out
from Edinburgh, make up a very pleasing little
picture, not unworthy of the hand which after-
wards threw off the finished sketches in America.
He says — " Having furnished my budget with what
necessary articles might be required, equipped with
a short oaken plant, I yielded my shoulders to the
load, and by daybreak left the confines of our
ancient metropolis. The morning was mild, clear,
and inviting. A gentle shower, which had fallen
amid the stillness of night, besprinkled the fields
and adjoining meadows, exposing them to the eye,
clad with brightest green, and glittering with
unnumbered globes of dew. Nature seemed to
smile on my intended expedition; I hailed the
happy omen, and with a heart light as the lark

84 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

that hovered over my head, I passed the foot of
Salisbury Rocks, and directing my course towards
Dalkeith, launched among the first farms and cot-
tages that offered."

Many mortifications awaited the peddler-poet on
his second trip. He found that many of the par-
ties who had subscribed for his volume had en-
tirely forgotten the circumstance, and the greater
portion " either could not or would not accept of
it." Odd characters in abundance, as may be
readily supposed, fell in his way. An innkeeper,
by way of puffing the poet, and at the same time
paying a compliment to Ms own understanding,
said to the poor author regarding his pieces —

" They're clever, very clever ; but I incline more
to the historical way, such as Goldsmith's Scots
History, the Inquest of Peru, and things of that
kind, else I would cheerfully take a copy."

On the whole, the result of this expedition was
very discouraging to Wilson, who, on his return
to Paisley, was fain once more to settle down to
the loom. To this " his poverty but not his will
consented;" and on another opportunity offering,
he again deserted it for the fields of literature.
A friend in Edinburgh haying informed him that
the question, "Whether have the exertions of
Allan Ramsay or Robert Fergusson done more
honor to Scottish poetry?" was to be discussed
in a debating society called the Forum, Wilson
seized the opportunity for distinguishing himself,
and after a few dnys' hard work at the loom, in

WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 85

order to provide the necessary funds, and a little
mental labor at home, the ambitious poet set out
for Edinburgh. He arrived just in time to take
part in the debate, and enthusiastically delivered
his poem entitled, "The Laurel Disputed," in de-
fence of the unfortunate Fergusson. The piece
gained him some notice and applause, and was the
means of detaining him in Edinburgh till he had
composed and recited two other productions,
namely, "Rab and Ringan," and "The Loss o'
the Pack."

Stimulated by the applause he received while
resident in the metropolis, Wilson, on his return
to his native town, once more set to the unprofit-
able business of publishing, by producing a second
edition of his poems, and again did he depart on a
thankless and harassing mission to dispose of his
volume. This turned out as unfortunate as the
first, and the result of all these high hopes and
anticipations was the return to his shuttles.
About this time he opened up a correspondence
with Burns, then in the zenith of his fame, and
shortly afterwards paid him a visit in Ayrshire.
Of this interview Wilson always spoke in enthu-
siastic terms.

The poet made a great start in the year 1792,
when the poem of "Watty and Meg" made its
appearance. This is a piece of rich and genuine
humor, almost rivaling in its broad and original
pictures of low life, its pathos and perfect versifi-
cation, the best parts of " Tarn o' Shanter." In-

86 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

deed, both poems were universally ascribed to the
same hand, till Wilson dropped the anonymous
curtain, under the needless shade of which the
poem had been issued, and declared himself the
author. The popularity of this piece was pecu-
liarly gratifying to the author, this being the only
effort of his muse which had successfully command-
ed anything like universal esteem.

This bright glimpse of sunshine was speedily
followed by a lowering sky. A dispute happening
to arise between the manufacturers and weavers
of Paisley, "Wilson at once took part with the
latter, and in the course of the controversy pro-
duced an offensive piece of personal satire entitled
"The Shark, or Lang Mills Detected." This sub-
jected him to a criminal prosecution before the
sheriff, in which he was convicted. But his pro-
secutors were not vindictive. He suffered only a
few days' imprisonment, and the mortification of
being obliged to burn his own poem on the stair
fronting the jail. The folly of these attacks he
deeply regretted; and many years afterwards, in
America, we find him rebuking his brother for
having brought with him copies of the offensive
Paisley diatribes. "These," said Wilson, throw-
ing the packet into the fire, " were the sins of my
youth, and had I taken my good old father's ad-
vice, they never would have seen the light."

The mortification consequent on this event,
combined with the disagreeable prominence he
had attained in his native town as the advocate of

WILSOX, Tin; ORNITHOLOGIST. 87

tlie French Revolution, were the main causes of
the poet's leaving Scotland. And having made
up his mind to the step, with the singleness of
purpose which characterized him, he set about
gathering the necessary funds, and for four months
labored incessantly at the loom, confining the
expenses of his living during that time, as we are
informed, to one shilling a-week. He was thus
able to save the sum necessary for the voyage,
and embarked at Belfast in a ship bound for New-
castle, in the State of Delaware, where he arrived
on the 14th July, 1794.

When the future ornithologist of his adopted
country set foot on its shores, his prospects were
as gloomy as may well be imagined. His passage-
money had absorbed all his means, even to the last
shilling. He had no friends, no letters of introduc-
tion, and his poetical talents, as sad experience
had taught him, were little calculated to gain him
favor or friends. But his was not the soul to be
daunted by circumstances, however untoward ; so
he cheerfully shouldered his gun and marched
towards Philadelphia — the same city which, some
seventy years before, had been entered in simi-
larly destitute circumstances by one of the greatest
men of the eighteenth century — Franklin, of ori-
gin alike humble with the future ornithologist
(tike him, also, destined for the church), but who
lived to exercise an influence on the affairs of the
world greater than the greatest monarchs or minis-
ters of his time. The reminiscence, so interesting

88 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

in the circumstances, could scarcely escape Wilson,
and must have infused fresh courage and hope into
his mind.

On arriving in the town, his first search was for
weaving, but none was to be had. Chance threw
him in the way of a countryman, who was in busi
ness as a copperplate-printer, from whom Wilson
procured employment, which, however, was de-
serted on finding work at his own business. After
a few months, the loom was again abandoned for
his old occupation of peddler, in which capacity he
traveled over a considerable part of New Jersey ;
meeting with more success, however, than had at-
tended him in his own country. On his return
from wandering, he opened a school, and for sev-
eral years, in diiferent places, he taught with great
efficiency and success. To remedy the defects of
his education, he began a course of systematic
study, and among other acquisitions, succeeded in
gaining a knowledge of mathematics, in which he
proceeded so far as to be able to survey. After
several unimportant removals, we find him appoint-
ed teacher of a union school in the township or
Kingsessing, not far from Philadelphia. While resi-
dent here, he learned that his nephew, William
Duncan (whose father was then dead), had landed
in New York, with his mother and a large family
of brothers and sisters ; and knowing that his
favorable representations of America had been the
principal means of inducing his nephew to this
perilous step, Wilson instantly set out on foot for

89

New York, a distance of one hundred miles, in
order to assist in getting his relations comfortably
settled. Having accomplished this object, the
generous man returned on foot to the labors of the
school-room ; and, from all we can learn, thinking
no more of the feat than any other ordinary act 01
duty.

It was also while residing at Kingsessing that
Wilson became acquainted with a kindred spirit
of the name of Bartram, an amiable, self-taught
naturalist, who has been styled the American
LinnaBus of the period, and whose residence and
botanic garden were happily situated in the vicin-
ity of Wilson's schoolhouse. The love of nature,
which had always characterized Wilson, here seems
to have taken firm root ; and from the feelings of
general interest with which all the works of God
were regarded, gradually rose a predilection for
that branch of natural history, the pursuit of which
was to immortalize his name. The nature of his
employments at this period are beautifully de-
scribed in a letter to his friend Bartram : — " I
sometimes smile to think, that while others are
immersed in deep schemes of speculation and
aggrandizement, in building towns and purchasing
plantations, I am entranced in contemplation over
the plumage of a lark, or gazing, like a despair
ing lover, on the lineaments of an owl. While
others are hoarding up their bags of money, with-
out the power of enjoying it, I am collecting,
without injuring my conscience or wounding my

90 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

peace of mind, those beautiful specimens of Nature's
works that are for ever pleasing. I have had live
crows, hawks, and owls ; opossums, squirrels,
snakes, lizards, &c., so that my room has some-
times reminded me of Noah's ark ; but Noah had
a wife in one corner of it, and, in this particular,
our parallel does not altogether tally. I receive
every subject of natural history that is brought to
me ; and, though they do not march into my ark
from all quarters, as they did into that of our great
ancestor, yet I find means, by the distribution of
a few fivepenny bits, to make them find the way
fast enough. A boy not long ago brought me a
large basketfull of crows. I expect his next load
will be bull-frogs, if I do n't soon issue orders to
the contrary. One of my boys caught a mouse in
school, a few days ago, and directly marched up to
me with his prisoner. I set about drawing it the
same evening, and all the while the pantings of its
little heart showed it to be in the most extreme
agonies of fear. I had intended to kill it, in order
to fix it in the claws of a stuffed owl ; but hap-
pening to spill a few drops of water near where it
was tied, it lapped it up with such eagerness, and
looked in my face with such an eye of supplicating
terror, as perfectly overcame me. I immediately
restored it to life and liberty. The agonies of a
prisoner at the stake, while the fire and instru-
ments of torture are preparing, could not be more
severe than the sufferings of that poor mouse ;
and, insignificant as the object was, I felt at that

WILSON — THE OHNITIIOLOGIST.

"One of my boyj ca-.:ght a mouse in school, a few day* f.jro, nn«ld:rectly marched up to me with li:s
prisoner. . . . I lnul intended to kill it, in cr.ler to fix it in the cluwa i.f a stuffed owl ; bv.t,
happening to fp!'.l a few drops of water ni-ar w hi-re it was licil, it Iaj)[x.-d it up w::h such eagerness,
and looked in my !ace with such an eyj of supplicating terror, BJ perfectly overcame Die. I imme-
diately restored it to life and liberty." — PACE 90.

WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 91

moment tlie sweet sensations that mercy leaves
in the mind when she triumphs over cruelty." The
first indication of his design to form an ornitholo-
gical collection is found in a letter to a friend in
Paisley, written in June, 1803. He says: — "Close
application to the duties of my profession, which
I have followed since November, 1795, has deeply
injured my constitution; the more so, that my
rambling disposition was the worst calculated of
any one in the world for the austere regularity of
a teacher's life. I have had many pursuits since
I left Scotland — mathematics, the German lan-
guage, music, drawing, &c. ; and I am about to
make a collection of all our finest birds."

Wilson's first designs, though but faint outlines
of the magnificent plan he afterwards conceived,
were sufficiently comprehensive to alarm his
friends, who sought to dissuade him from an en-
terprise which, as they represented, and with
much truth, only fortune and learned leisure could
competently achieve. But the naturalist, having
formed his plan, set to work with ah1 the indomi-
table energy of his character, and in October of
the year 1 804, accompanied by his nephew and a
friend, he began his first bird-seeking pilgrimage
by a pedestrian tour to Niagara. The travelers
had undertaken the journey too late in the season,
and on their return were overtaken by winter, and
had to travel a great part of the way through
snow. The perseverance of his companions failed,
but Wilson set forth alone with his gun and bag-

92 MEN WHO IIAYE KISEN.

gage, and reached home safely, after an absence
of fifty-nine days. Regarding this journey, he thus
enthusiastically writes to his friend Bartram : —
"Though in this tour I have had every disadvan-
tage of deep roads and rough weather, hurried
marches, and many other inconveniences ; yet, so
far ain I from being satisfied with what I have
seen, or discouraged by the fatigues which every
traveler must submit to, that I feel more eager
than ever to commence some more extensive ex-
pedition, where scenes and subjects entirely new,
and generally unknown, might reward my curio-
sity; and where, perhaps, my humble acquisitions
might add something to the stores of knowledge."

As an evidence of the strength of his resolution,
lie set himself to learn drawing and coloring, and
the art of etching on copper. In these arts he
made some progress, but meanwhile his worldly
means were far from improving. His scholars
fell off, till the number could not support him;
but such was the estimation in which Wilson was
held, that the trustees of the school, on learning
the state of affairs, generously subscribed for a
sufficient number of pupils to maintain him.

In the beginning of 1806, Wilson received in-
timation that the United States Government in-
tended despatching a party of scientific men to
explore the valley of the Mississippi. This was
an expedition in which Wilson would have re-
joiced to embark, and accordingly he addressed a
letter to Jefferson, offering his service ; but much

WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 93

to the chagrin of the eager naturalist, the letter
was never answered.

A brighter era at length dawned on the
hitherto unfortunate projector. A bookseller of
Philadelphia, Mr. Samuel Bradford, "being about
to publish an edition of Kees' Cyclopaedia, Wilson
was recommended to him as a person well qualified
to superintend the work, and his services were ac-
cepted. This was an occupation more congenial
to his mind, and it gave him a better opportunity
of pursuing his studies, being free from the harass-
ing cares of a teacher's life." The connection was
of signal service to Wilson ; for on his explaining to
Mr. Bradford his views regarding "The American
Ornithology," that gentleman undertook the risk
of publication. One material difficulty being thus
removed, Wilson set himself for some months
heartily and unremittingly to the duties of
author; and in the month of September, 1808, the
first volume of his great work made its appearance.

The design and execution of the work have
been truly described as magnificent. But although
it took the public completely by surprise, yet the
patronage was so meagre, that the enterprising
editor was fain to call in on its behalf the old re-
source of his peddler craft — canvassing for sub-
scribers ; and, with this view, he set out on a tour
through the Southern States, which lasted for six
months, but was only slightly productive of the
encouragement he was in quest of, though doubt-
less the naturalist found this and similar expcdi-

94: MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

tions of immense advantage in the accumulation
of materials. Of this expedition, Wilson thus
writes in a letter to a friend : " I have labored
with the zeal of a knight-errand in exhibiting this
book of mine wherever I went — traveling with it
like a beggar with his bantling from town to town,
and from one country to another." The second
volume was published in January, 1810, fifteen
months after the first was issued ; and immediately
on its appearance, Wilson again started on an ex-
tensive land and water journey, including a sail
of 720 miles down the river Ohio. Contrary to
the advice of his friends, the daring ornithologist
decided on attempting this dangerous voyage alone
and unattended. The outset of the expedition is
thus graphically described : " My stock of pro-
visions consisted of some biscuit and cheese, and a
bottle of cordial presented me by a gentleman of
Pittsburgh ; my gun, trunk, and greatcoat occupied
one end of the boat ; I had a small tin, occasion-
ally to bale her, and to take my beverage from the
Ohio with ; and bidding adieu to the smoky con-
fines of Pitt, I launched into the stream, and soon
winded away among the hills that everywhere en-
close this noble river. The weather was warm
and serene, and the river like a mirror, except
where floating masses of ice spotted its surface,
and which required some care to steer clear of;
but these, to my surprise, in less than a day's
sailing, totally disappeared. Far from being con-
cerned at my new situation, I felt my heart ex-

WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 95

pand with joy at the novelties which surrounded
me ; I listened with pleasure to the whistling of
the redbird on the banks as I passed, and contem-
plated the forest scenery as it receded, with in-
creasing delight. The smoke of the numerous
maple sugar camps, rising lazily among the moun-
tains, gave great effect to the varying landscape ;
and the grotesque log cabins, that here and there
opened from the woods, were diminished into mere
dog-houses by the sublimity of the impending
mountains." This solitary voyage, " exposed to
hardships all day, and hard berths all night, to
storms of rain, hail, and snow, for it froze severely
almost every night," lasted some three weeks;
and then mooring his boat in Bear Grass Creek,
at the rapids of the Ohio, and "leaving
his baggage to be forwarded by a wagon,
he set out on foot to Lexington, seventy-
two miles further, where, on the 4th of May, he
hired a horse and departed on a journey towards
Natchez, with a pistol in each pocket, and his
fowling-piece belted across his shoulders. During
this long and hazardous journey he experienced
great hardships, sometimes having to swim perilous
creeks, and having to encamp for thirteen different
nights in the woods alone. To these inconvenien-
ces was added a new attack of the dysentery, when
far amidst execrable swamps. ' My complaint,'
he writes, c increased so much that I could scarce-
ly sit on horseback, and all night my mouth
and throat were parched with burning thirst and

96 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

fever. On Sunday I bought some eggs, which I
ate, and repeated the dose at mid-day and towards
evening. I found great benefit from this simple
remedy, and inquired all along the road for fresh
eggs ; and for a week made them almost my sole
food, until I completed my cure.' He was also
in danger of a tornado, attended with a drenching
of rain. Trees were broken and torn up by the
roots, and those which stood were bent almost to
the ground ; limbs of trees flew whirling past him ;
and his life was in such danger that he was
astonished how he escaped, and declared he would
rather take his chance in a field of battle, than in
such a tornado again. Nevertheless he seems to
have enjoyed his journey, and reached Natchez on
the 17th of May. After enjoying at this place the
kind hospitality of William Dunbar, at whose res-
idence he remained a few days, he proceeded on
his journey, and on the 6th of June arrived at
New Orleans, distant from Natchez two hundred
and fifty-two miles. But as the sickly season was
fast approaching, he did not consider it safe to
remain there long ; and on the 25th of the month
he took passage for New York, where he landed
on July the 30th. He had left home on the 30th
of January, and all his expenses to this period
amounted only to four hundred and fifty dollars.
He arrived in Philadelphia on the 2d of August,
after an absence of seven months, and immediately
applied himself with increasing industry to the
preparation of his third volume." •

WILSON, THE OSNITUOLOGIST. 97

From this period to the year 1812, Wilson
undertook several other journeys, partly with the
object of procuring subscribers, and partly also to
gather fresh materials for his publication, which,
meanwhile, was rapidly proceeding, and had at-
tained its seventh volume early in 1813. The
carrying forward of the grand project which filled
the mind of Wilson, would, even to a learned
body with ample materials at command, have been
sufficiently arduous and exciting ; and what then
must it have been to a single individual who had
all his specimens to collect, arrange, and make
drawings from, and afterwards, in some cases, to
etch the plates and color the engravings? The
health of the ardent naturalist gradually gave way
under the extraordinary exertion, but he would
hear of no respite from his labors ; " he denied
himself rest, and spent the whole of the day in
unceasing exertion." To the remonstrances of
his friends he calmly said, "Life is short, and
nothing can be done without exertion." The
eighth volume of his work was announced to ap-
pear in November, 1812, and another volume was
intended to conclude it ; but the gifted author
was not destined to see the completion of his pro-
ject. Severe labor and anxiety had now so far
undermined his constitution as to predispose it to
yield under the first extraordinary exertion, and
to a person of Wilson's enthusiastic temperament
the occasion soon presented itself. The cause
which led to his early and lamented death was
7

98 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

this : " Sitting one clay conversing with a friend,
a rare bird, which he had long been desirous to
possess, happened to fly past the window. The
moment Wilson beheld it, he seized his gun, and
after an arduous pursuit, during which he swam
across a river, succeeded in killing it ; but the
consequence was a severe cold, followed by an
attack of dysentery, which, after ten days' dura-
tion, ended his mortal career. He died at nine
o'clock on the morning of the 23d August, 1813,
in his 48th year, and was interred on the follow-
ing day — the whole of the scientific men of the
city, and the clergy of all denominations, attend-
ing the mournful scene. We are told, also, that
the Columbian Society of Fine Arts walked in pro-
cession before the hearse, and for thirty days wore
crape round their arms.

Thus ended the life of this gifted man. Of his
personal character we have said little, leaving it
to be gathered from the events of his chequered
career. From, first to last he maintained his inde-
pendence in thought and action, and, if he ever
strove after the gifts of fortune, it was only, like
Burns, " for the glorious privilege of being inde-
pendent." His great work, which cost him so
many years of the most arduous toil and an
anxiety ever on the stretch, brought him noth-
ing more substantial than fame — of pecuniary
enumeration he received nothing, except payment
for coloring his own plates. " The American
Ornithology" ranks amongst the first works on

WILSOX, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 99

natural history which any age or nation ever gave
birth to, and is not less remarkable for the beauty
and fidelity of the illustrations than for the admi-
rable spirit and faithfulness of the descriptions —
a proud triumph for the Paisley weaver, and due
to his indomitable energy and perseverance.

Wilson's intense delight in the feathered song-
sters of the grove was beautifully portrayed in
the wish he had more than once expressed, " that
he might be buried in some rural spot where the
birds might sing over his grave."

BENJAMIN WEST, THE AKTIST.

BENJAMIN WEST, the earliest and most distin-
guished of American painters, was born in Spring-
field, Chester county, Pennsylvania, on the 10th
of October, 1738. He was the youngest of nine
children, of excellent Quaker parents, and at a
very early age gave evidence of a genius for Art.
When only seven years of age, while keeping flies
from the sleeping baby of his eldest sister, he was
prompted to attempt a sketch of the babe in black
and red ink, which were at hand. The portrait
was so accurate that his mother, upon returning,
snatched the paper from his hand, exclaiming, " I
declare he has made a likeness of little Sally."
His parents encouraged" his efforts, and from the
Indians he learned the use of the red and yellow
colors with which they painted their belts and or-
naments. This was, however, after he had ad-
vanced somewhat in his artist career. At first, the
colors he used were principally charcoal and chalk,
mixed with the juice of berries, while the material

BENJAMIN WEST, TK& ARTIST. , , , . ,1X>JL ,

for his brushes were drawii from the tail of a cat
AVith these colors and implements, when only nine
years of age, he drew on a sheet of paper the
portraits of a neighboring family. When twelve
years of age he accomplished a more difficult task,
and drew a portrait of himself. But the knowl-
edge which he had gained from the Indians en-
larged his field of operations. His mother's indigo
bag supplied him with blue, and he now had the
three primary colors to work with.

"Such was the juvenile beginning of the greatest
historical painter of the last century ; such were
the first buddings of the genius of that boy, who
would not ride in company of another, because he
aspired to nothing greater than a tailor's shop-
board.

" ' Do you really mean to be a tailor ? ' asked
little West.

" ' Indeed I do,' replied his boy-companion.

" ' Then you may ride alone,' exclaimed the
young aspirant, leaping to the ground. ' I mean
to be a painter, and be a companion of kings and
emperors. I '11 not ride with one willing to be a
tailor ! ' »

At the age of sixteen, it was determined that
Benjamin should become a painter. The pursuit
of such an art was not in accordance with the dis-
cipline of the Quakers. A meeting was called and
a consultation held. One of the assembly arose
and said : " God hath bestowed on this youth a
genius for Art; shall we question His wisdom?

102 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

I see the "Divine hand in this. "We shall do well to
sanction the art and encourage this youth." The
women of the assembly then rose up and kissed
the young aspirant: the men, one by one, laid
their hands on his head, and thus " Benjamin
"West was solemnly consecrated to the service of
the Great Art."

Young West now went to Philadelphia, in order
that he might pursue his studies with the advan-
tages which that city afforded. He had free
access to all the pictures. In the intervals of his
portait painting, he made copies of celebrated pic-
tures, especially of a Murillo in Governor Hamil-
ton's collections. A Saint Ignatius was next copied
with enthusiasm. His application now became in-
tense, and the result was an attack of sickness.
"While stretched upon his sick bed in a darkened
room, the light entering only through the cracks
in the window-shutters, an incident occurred which
illustrates the young artist's keen powers of rea-
soning and observation.

"As he was lying in bed, slowly recovering
from a fever, he was surprised to see the form of a
white cow enter at one side of the roof, and, walk-
ing over the bed, gradually vanish at the other.
The phenomenon surprised him exceedingly, and
he feared that his mind was impaired by his dis-
ease, which his sister also suspected, when, on en-
tering to inquire how he felt himself, he related to
her what he had seen. She soon left the room,
and informed her husband, who accompanied her

BENJAMIN WEST, THE ARTIST. 103

back to the apartment; and as they were both
standing near the bed, West repeated the story,
exclaiming that he saw, at the very moment in
which he was speaking, several little pigs running
along the roof. This confirmed them in the appre-
hension- of his delirium, and they sent for a physi-
cian ; but his pulse was regular, the skin moist and
cool, the thirst abated, and, indeed, everything
about the patient indicated convalescence. Still,
the painter persisted in his story, and assured them
that he then saw the figures of several of their
mutual friends passing on the roof, over the bed,
and that he even saw fowls picking, and the very
stones of the street. All this seemed to them very
extraordinary, for their eyes, not accustomed to the
gloom of the chamber, could discover nothing ;
and the physician himself, in despite of the symp-
toms, began to suspect that the convalescent was
really delirious. Prescribing, therefore, a com-
posing mixture, he took his leave, requesting Mrs.
Clarkson and her husband to come away and not
disturb the patient. After they had retired, the
artist got up, determined to find out the cause of
the strange apparitions which had so alarmed them
all. In a short time he discovered a diagonal knot-
hole in one of the window-shutters, and upon
placing his hand over it, the visionary paintings on
the roof disappeared. This confirmed him in
an opinion that he began to form, that there must
be some simple natural cause for what he had
seen, and having thus ascertained the way in

104 MEN WHO HATE lilSEN.

which it acted, he called his sister and her husband
into the room, and explained it to them. He prof-
ited by this investigation ; made a box with one 01
its sides perforated, and thus, without ever having
heard of the invention, contrived a camera obscura.
From Philadelphia West went to New York,
where he remained during a period of eleven
months, industriously pursuing his profession —
working at portraits for his support, and in such
intervals as he could secure, laboring with un-
diminished zeal and enthusiasm at original com-
positions. His successes now determined him to
visit Italy. Although almost self-taught, and with
no advantages in the way of fortune or birth,
young West had been more fortunate, had ad-
vanced more smoothly on the road to fame and
position, than is common with those who essay
the paths of ambition. His genius had been re-
cognized from the beginning ; friends had not
withheld their aid or countenance ; he had even
succeeded in accumulating means sufficient for his
contemplated visit to the classic shores of Italy.
Among the earliest of his friends was the father of
the immortal General Wayne. This gentleman
saw the first crude-sketches of the boy, and pur-
chased some of his drawings. A Mr. Pennington
also encouraged and patronized the lad ; and when
he removed to Philadelphia, he there experienced
no lack of supporters and friends. When he de-
termined to sail for Italy, he was engaged upon the
portrait of Mr. Kelly, a merchant of New York.

BENJAMIN WEST, THE ARTIST. 105

To this gentleman he mentioned his plan, who ap-
proved of it, and gave him a letter to his agents in
Philadelphia, from which place he intended to sail.
West presented the letter, and was surprised to
find that it contained an order for fifty guineas —
" a present to aid in his equipment for Italy."
These instances prove that West did not experi-
ence that neglect and poverty, which so frequent-
ly cloud the dawning efforts of genius.

West embarked in 1760; reached Leghorn in
safety, and thence proceeded to Rome, which he
entered on the 10th of July, 1760. With regret
it must be said that he never returned to America.

Among West's letters of introduction was one
, to Cardinal Albani, a great connoisseur, although
nearly blind. An amusing anecdote is related of
his interview with this personage. The Cardinal
passed his hand over the face of the young artist,
in order to judge of his features.

" This young savage," said he, " has good fea-
tures ; but what is his complexion ? Is he black or
white ? "

The gentleman who introduced West replied
that he was " very fair."

" What ! " exclaimed the Cardinal ; " as fair as I
am?"

The interrogation caused no little mirth, for the
Cardinal was not remarkable for his beauty in this
particular.

West remained three years in Italy, visiting
Florence, Bologna, and Venice, and everywhere
5*

106 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

meeting the most gratifying encouragement, and
the amplest recognition of his genius. He now
made his preparations for returning to America,
but first determined to visit England, where he ar-
rived in August, 1763. In London he found so
much encouragement, that, contrary to his first in-
tention, he determined to settle there. He made
the acquaintance of Sir Joshua Reynolds, Nelson
the landscape painter, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Burke,
and other distinguished personages in that age of
great men : he was also introduced to the young
king George III., who commanded him to paint
The Departure of Regulus. He became establish-
ed in popular favor almost immediately. Com-
missions poured in upon him. His rank, as among
the first of the living historical painters, became
everywhere conceded. Lord Rockingham offered
the successful artist three thousand five hundred
a-year, if he would undertake to embellish his
family mansion with pictures. West declined. He
wished to keep before the public.

Prior to his departure from America, he had
won the affections of a young lady of the name of
Shewell. His position was now secured, and he
desired to make her his wife. At first he purposed
to return to America with the object of effecting
the marriage, but this was prevented by his father,
who took the bride to England, where the mar-
riage was consummated, West then being twenty-
seven years of age.

In 1768, West, in conjunction with Sir Joshua

BENJAMIN' WEST, TIIE AliTIST. 107

Reynolds and the King, established the Royal
Academy. Sir Joshua was the first president,
but, after his death, West was unanimously elected
to that honorable position, which he held to the
time of his death.

We cannot, in this brief sketch, attempt to
dwell upon the various productions of West's pro-
lific pencil. His Death of Wolfe^ one of his earlier
efforts, achieved a world-wide reputation, not
only as a work of art, but as exhibiting a broad
innovation on the customs and usages of artists.
Up to that period, it had been customary to cos-
tume the characters in modern heroic pieces in the
flowing robes of ancient Greek and Roman heroes.
West rejected the teaching, and in spite of many
remonstrances, he depicted the characters in this
celebrated picture in the actual dress of the time.
The result justified the attempt. It was a success.
Even Reynolds, who had resolutely opposed the
innovation, exclaimed, when he saw the painting,
"West has conquered. I retract. This picture
will occasion a revolution in art." The King's
admiration for the artist was almost unbounded.
He gave West an order for painting thirty grand
pictures, illustrative of revealed religion, for a new
chapel at Windsor Castle. West designed them
all, and completed twenty-eight. "A work so
varied, so extensive and so noble, was never under-
taken by any painter ; " but when insanity clouded
the mind of the king, West was neglected, and
^he series were discontinued. But our artist, in

108 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

losing royal patronage, still retained the favor of
the public. He never lacked commissions ; and as he
labored diligently and with earnestness, the num-
ber of his productions were immense. It has
been stated, that to exhibit all his works it would
take a gallery four hundred feet long, fifty in
breadth, and forty in height. The sums that he
received were large, not less in the aggregate,
during his residence in England, than $500,000.

In December, 1817, occurred the death of Mrs.
Y/est, and three years later, in the eighty-second
year of his age, the artist departed this life. He was
buried with great pomp in St. Paul's Cathedral.

" The last illness of Mr. West," says Mr. Gait,
" was slow and languishing. It was rather a ger-
eral decay of nature than any specific malady;
and he continued to enjoy his mental faculties in
perfect distinctness upon all subjects as long as the
powers of articulation could be exercised. To his
merits as an artist and a man I may be deemed
partial, nor do I wish to be thought otherwise. I
have enjoyed his frankest confidence for many
years, and received from his conversation the ad-
vantages of a more valuable species of instruction,
relative to the arts, than books alone can supply
to one who is not an artist. While I therefore
admit that the partiality of friendship may tincture
my opinion of his character, I am yet confident
that the general truth of the estimate will be ad-
mitted by all who knew the man, or are capable
to appreciate the merits of his works.

BENJAMIN WEST, THE AKTIST. 109

" In his deportment Mr. West was mild and
considerate ; his eye was keen, and his mind apt ;
but he was slow and methodical in his reflections,
and the sedateness of his remarks must often, in
his younger years, have seemed to strangers sin-
gularly at variance with the vivacity of his look.
That vivacity, however, was not the result of any
particular animation of temperament ; it was rather
the illuminations of his genius; for, when his
features were studiously considered, they appeared
to resemble those which we find associated with
dignity of character in the best productions of art.
As an artist, he will stand in the first rank ; his
name will be classed with those of Michael Angelo
and Raffaelle ; but he possessed little in common
with cither. As the former has been compared to
Homer and the latter to Virgil, in Shakspeare we
shall perhaps find the best likeness to the genius
of Mr. West. He undoubtedly possessed but in a
slight degree that energy and physical expression
of character in which Michael Angelo excelled,
and in a still less degree that serene sublimity
which constitutes the charm of Raftaelle's great
productions ; but he was their equal in the fullness,
the perspicuity, and the propriety of his composi-
tions. In all his great works, the scene intended
to be brought before the spectator is represented
in such a manner that the imagination has noth-
ing to supply. The incident, the time, and the
place are there as we think they must have been ;
nml it is this wonderful force of conception which

110 MEN WHO IIAYE KISEN.

renders the sketches of Mr. West so much more
extraordinary than his finished pictures. In the
finished pictures we naturally institute comparisons
in coloring, and in beauty of figure, and in a thou-
sand details which are never noticed in the sketches
of this illustrious artist ; but, although his powers
of conception were so superior, equal in their ex-
cellence to Michael Angelo's energy or Rafaelle's
grandeur, still, in the inferior departments of draw-
ing and coloring he was one of the greatest artists
of his age. It was not, however, till late in life
that he executed any of those works in which he
thought the splendor of the Venetian school might
be judiciously imitated. At one time he intended
to collect his works together, and to form a gen-
eral exhibition of them all. Had he accomplished
this, the greatness and versatility of his talents
would have been established beyond all contro-
versy; for unquestionably he was one of those
great men whose genius cannot be justly estimated
by particular works, but only by a collective in-
spection of the variety, the extent, and the num-
ber of their productions."

ASTOK, THE MILLIOISTAIEE.

IN July, 1763, the worthy and profound bailiff of
the village of Waldrop, near Heidelberg, in the
duchy of Baden, had a son born unto him. He
had had several sons, but this particular one was
designated John Jacob, two names with wonder-
ful opposite significations. John is one of your
soft, gentle names, full of urbanity, with a touch
of dignity ; it means gracious, and would suit a
condescending monarch well. Jacob, on the other
hand, is just the name for a money-maker ; it is
quite a pecuniary name. The wealth of Laban of
old consisted of flocks ; and Jacob manifested as
much adroitness in the accumulation of these as
in the supplanting of Esau. Jacob means a sup-
planter; that is, one who trips up somebody's
heels and takes his place. John Jacob Astor
began life with auguries of success. He was a
German ; had a worthy, cautious, and wise father,
who did not spare him of good advice, and equally
good example. Ths Germans, like the Scotch,

112 MEN WHO HATE KISEN".

fire brought up with a predisposition for emigra-
tion. One of the German tendencies is to leave
home. Preparatory to departing from the place
of his nativity, John Jacob Astor had been in-
structed in what was right and wrong in a worldly
sense ; so that, when he packed up his scanty
wardrobe and took leave of Waldrop, he deter-
mined that honesty, industry, and total abstinence
from the immoral practice of gambling, should
mark his conduct through life. At eighteen years
of age John Jacob steered his course for London,
where he had a brother resident. With a few
wearables in his bundle — coarse home-made clothes,
blue cap, keel, and heavy hobnailed shoes — he
landed in the great city. He had two brothers
who had emigrated. One was a musical instru-
ment maker in London, the other a butcher in New
York ; but he does not seem to have thriven under
the auspices of the brother in Britain, during the
three years that he remained in England. This
residence was of advantage to him, however, for
he acquired the English tongue, which was indis-
pensable to him in his new sphere of action.

The revolutionary war had just ceased ; eight
years of fiery ordeal had been passed through ; the
Americans had attained independence, and the
hopeful and aspiring youth of Europe were hasten-
ing to the now open ports of the New World.
With various articles of manufacture as his whole
wealth, among the most valuable of which were
seven flutes, presented to him by his brother, John

ASTOE, THE MILLIONAIRE. 113

Jacob Astor embarked in November, 1784, as a
steerage passenger on board of an emigrant ship
bound for the United States. The voyage was
long and tedious, the ship being retarded by ice
for nearly three months in the Chesapeake. Dur-
ing this protracted detention in the river, the pas-
sengers went on shore occasionally, and Astor had
time to form and perfect a friendship with a young
countryman of his own, a furrier to trade, who
induced him to turn his attention to his art, and
generously offered to assist him in the acquirement
thereof, and to go to New York with him. When
he arrived at New York, the young German sold
his flutes and other property, and immediately in-
vested the small capital arising therefrom in furs.
These he carried to London and sold ; and then,
returning to New York, high in hope, he appren-
ticed himself to the fur trade, in Gold-street, where
he commenced beating skins. He had not been
long here until he sufficiently understood the trade
to embark in it as a capitalist ; and he had at the
same time manifested so much diligence and in-
dustry as to obtain the notice of Robert Bowne,
a good old Quaker, who carried on an extensive
business in New York as a furrier. Employed by
Bowne as clerk, Astor recommended himself so
highly by his industry and probity as to command
the respect^f the old Quaker, and his entire con-
fidence. In this situation he made himself tho-
roughly acquainted with the nature of the fur
trade, coming in contact with the agents, and ob-
^

114: MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

taining a complete knowledge of the methods and
profits of the traffic.

When the revolutionary war closed, Oswego,
Detroit, Niagara, and other posts, were in the
hands of the British ; and as these were the entre-
pots of the western and northern countries, the
fur trade had languished after their capture and
during their detention. The traders had been
either driven away or drafted into the armies;
the trappers had ranged themselves on either side
of the political contention ; and the Indians ob-
tained more fire-water and calico for the use of
their mercenary rifles and tomahawks from Great
Britain, in this her domestic quarrel with the
colonists, than if they had employed them on
beavers and squirrels. After much negotiation
and surveying, and the advancement and considera-
tion of claims, these posts were conceded to the
United States, and Canada was open to the fur
trade. Astor had received from his brother Harry,
a rich butcher in Bowery, an advancement of a
few thousand dollars; these he had already em-
barked in the fur trade, in 1794, and shortly after-
wards the British retired from the west side of St.
Clair, opening up to the enterprising sons of
America the great fur trade of the west. The
cautious, acute German saw that the posts now
free would soon be thronged by IndTans eager to
dispose of the accumulated produce of several
years' hunting, and that the time was now come
when he was certain to amass a large fortune by

ASTOK, THE MILLIONAIRE. 115

the traffic. He immediately established agencies,
over which he exercised a sort of personal super-
intendence, visiting the stations sometimes, but
chiefly devoting himself to the New York busi-
ness. The result verified the sagacious predictions
of the adventurous trader, for in six years he is
said to have accumulated the enormous sum of
two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This sum
was not stored up, but invested in stock which
was likely to yield large returns.

The British fur companies had, however, built
their block-forts at almost every eligible site on
the rivers of the northern and south-western parts
of the American continent, and were soon likely
to monopolize the whole of the fur trade, unless
some bold measures were adopted to rescue it
from them. This Astor attempted in 1803,
by establishing the American Fur Company.
The hardy adventurers who entered into this
project, boldly pushed their outposts far into
the hitherto unknown prairie, and raised their
forts upon the banks of yet unexplored rivers.
Tribes unused to see the white man, and who
only knew him through vague tradition, or in a
passing tale from some visitor of another tribe,
now saw and knew hiin, and brought their abun-
dance of beaver, otter, and buffalo skins, and laid
them at his feet for muskets, powder, and fire-
water.

If there is a genius in money-making, Astor
surely possessed it. He had that insatiable thirst

116 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

peculiar to genius — that desire that expands and
rises with success. The American Fur Company
was no sooner established and in operation than
he cast his sagacious, cunning little eyes towards
the region stretching from the Rocky Mountains
to the ocean. He proposed to the United States
government the establishment of a line of forts
along the shores of the Pacific Ocean and 011 the
Columbia river, in order to take from the hands of
the British all facilities for establishing a trade
west of the Rocky Mountains. The project was
agreed to; and, in 1810, sixty men, under the
command of a hardy and adventurous leader (W.
P. Hunt), established the first post at the mouth
of the Columbia, which took its designation of
Astoria from the projector of the scheme. This
became the germ of the budding State of Oregon.
Then commenced a series of operations on a scale
altogether beyond anything hitherto attempted by
individual enterprise. The history is full of
wildest romance ; and the chaste pen of Irving has
wo\en the wonderful incidents into a charmiup-

«J>

narrative. We cannot even glance at it in this
brief memoir. The whole scheme was the offspring
of a capacious mind ; and had the plans of Mi*.
Astor been faithfully carried out by his associates,
it would, no doubt, have been eminently success-
ful. But the enterprise soon failed. During the
Avar a British armed sloop captured Astoria, and
the British fur traders entered upon the rich field
which Mr. Astor had planted, and reaped the

ASTOE, THE MILLIONAIRE. 117

golden harvest. When the war had ended, and
Astoria was left within the domain of the United
States by treaty, Mr. Astor solicited the govern-
ment to aid him in recovering his lost possessions.
Aid was withheld, and the grand scheme of open-
ing a highway across the continent, with a con
tinuous chain of military and trading posts, which
Mr. Astor laid before President Jefferson, became
a mere figment of history, over which sound
statesmen soon lamented.

From the period of the establishment of the
American Fur Company, Mr. Astor had not only
covered an immense tract of inland country and
coast with the depots of his wealth, but he had
also multiplied the number of his ships until they
exceeded the marine of some of the smaller Euro-
pean States. He had ships freighted with furs
trading to the ports of France, England, Germany,
and Russia, and carrying peltries to Canton,
whence they came laden with teas, silks, spices,
and the other products of the East. On every
sea, laden with the richest cargoes, and consigned
to every port of note, were the vessels of this
German lad, who, in 1784, with only a few flutes
and several other articles in his chest, landed from
the steerage of an English emigrant ship upon the
quay of New York. With the sagacity of a Frank-
lin, Astor purchased a good deal of the land lying
round New York. Perceiving the rapid growth 01
the city, he knew that this land, prospectively, was
of immense value, and for a long time he invested

118 HEX WHO HAVE RISEN.

two-thirds of his yearly income in the purchase of
an estate, which he took care never to mortgage.
Through the natural growth of .the city, the re-
turns from his real estate yearly increased till it
reached an enormous amount. Speculating upon
the settlement of Iowa, Missouri, Wisconsin, and
other parts of the west, he purchased immense
tracts at the goverment price, which, of course
the settlers will be constrained to take at an ad-
vance. The labor of generations yet unborn, the
inhabitants of nations yet unknown, is mortgaged
in this way to the descendants of John Jacob
Astor. From, indigence equal to that of the poor
itinerant lads who perambulate our streets with
organs, this man rose to be second only to the
Rothschilds in wealth, in a shortness of time almost
incredible.

It must be mentioned to the honor of this ple-
thoric old Croesus, however, that he lent his aid
to many works of public utility and philanthropy ;
he gave 350,000 dollars for the foundation of a
library in New York, the interest to be expended
in the erection of a building and the employment
of agents for the purchase of books. He also gave
a large sum of money to his native town, for the
purpose of founding an institution for the educa-
tion of the young, and as a retreat for indigent
aged persons. The Astor Library in New York,
and the Astor House in Walldorf, were both open-
ed in 1854. The following amusing anecdote is
told of him, in the double character of a patron of

ASTOK, TIIE MILLIONAIRE. 119

literature and parsimonious money-holder, which
appears to be exceedingly characteristic : Among
the subscribers to Audubon's magnificent work on
ornithology, the subscription price of which was
] ,000 dollars a copy, appeared the name of John
Jacob Astor. During the progress of the work,
(lie prosecution of which was exceedingly expen-
sive, M. Audubon, of course, called upon several
of his subscribers for payments. It so happened
that Mr. Astor (probably that he might not be
troubled about small matters) was not applied to
before the delivery of all the letterpress and plates.
Then, however, Audubon asked for his thousand
dollars ; but he was put off with one excuse or
another. "Ah, M. Audubon," would the owner
of millions observe, " you come at a bad time ;
money is very scarce ; I have nothing in bank ; I
have invested all my funds." At length, for the
sixth time, Audubon called upon Astor for his
thousand dollars. As he was ushered into the
presence, he found William B. Astor, the son, con-
versing with his father. No sooner did the rich
man see the man of art, than he began, "Ah, M.
Audubon, so you have come again after your mo-
ney. Hard times, M. Audubon — money scarce."
But just then, catching an inquiring look from his
son, he changed his tone: "However, M. Audu-
bon, I suppose we must contrive to let you have
some of your money, if possible. "William," he
added, calling to his son, who had walked into an
adjoining parlor, "have we any money at all in the

120 MEN WHO HAVE KISEtf.

bank?" "Yes, father," replied the son, suppos-
ing that he was asked an earnest question perti-
nent to what they had been talking about when
the ornithologist came in, " we have two hundred
and twenty thousand dollars in the Bank of New
York, seventy thousand in the City Bank, ninety
thousand in the Merchants', ninety-eight thousand
four hundred in the Mechanics', eighty-three thou-
sand ." "That'll do, that'll do," exclaimed

John Jacob, interrupting him. " It seems that
William can give you a check for your money."

Mr. Astor married shortly after his settlement
in America, and had four children — two sons and
two daughters. He died on 29th March, 1848, at
his residence, Broadway, aged eighty-five years.

The singular life and growth in wealth of John
Jacob Astor offers many interesting reflections.
There is assuredly scarcely another individual who
has contrived to accumulate so much of the world's
capital. The Rothschilds and Barings have, it is
true, acquired magnificent fortunes through usury,
but the process has been infinitely more tedious
than that of Astor. Their money was acquired
through the exigencies of exchequers. Astor's
was gained in trade — by what may be termed a
gigantic system of concentration, through which
the wealth of savage tribes was made to flow by
semi-civilized agents into the coffers of the priiiie
mover of the system.

HUTTON, THE BOOKSELLER

WILLIAM HUTTOX, according to his very inter-
esting autobiography, was born in Derby, Eng-
land. He remarks that there were no prognosti-
cations prior to his birth, except that his father, a
day before, was chosen constable. But a circum-
stance occurred, which, he believes, never had hap-
pened before in his family — the purchase of a
cheese, price half a guinea, so large as to merit a
wheel-barrow to bring it home. When about two
years and a half old he was sent to Mount Sorrel,
where he had an uncle, who was a bachelor ; also
a grandmother who kept his house. With this
uncle, and three crabbed aunts, all single, who re-
sided together at Swithland, about two miles dis-
tant from his uncle's, he lived alternately for about
fifteen months. Here he was put into breeches ;
but he was considered an interloper, and treated
with much ill-nature. One of his aunts was un-
happily addicted to drinking ; and he says, that
upon one occasion when ho was out with her, she
6

122 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

called at an ale-house and got so very tipsy that
she could neither stand nor walk. This was a
scene that often occurred, and though he was very
young, it seems to have made such an impression
upon him as to cause him to look ever afterwards
upon this vice with disgust and abhorrence. His
father, too, was so given to the same debasing
habit that he squandered the pittance he was able
to earn as a journeyman wool-comber, while his
wife and family were oftentimes nearly starved for
want of bread. Between the age of four and six,
Hutton, by some contrivance or other, was sent to
school, where he was most harshly treated by his
teacher, who often took occasion to beat his head
against the wall, holding it by the hair, but with-
out being able to drive any learning into it, for he
hated all books but those containing pictures.
This was the only schooling he ever had.

When Hutton was six years old, consultations
were held about fixing him in some employment
for the benefit of the family. Winding quills for
the weaver was mentioned, but this was dropped.
Stripping tobacco for the grocer, in which he was
to earn four-pence a week, was also proposed ; but
it was at last concluded that he was too young for
any employment. The year following, however
he was placed in a silk mill in the town of Derby,
where for seven years he had to work ; rising at
five in the morning, summer and winter ; submit-
ting to the cane whenever his master thought pro-
per to make use of it; the constant companion of

riUTTOX, THE BOOKSELLER, 123

the most rude and vulgar of the human race ;
never taught by nature, and never wishing to be
taught. In the year 1731, about Christmas, there
was a very sharp frost, followed by a thaw ; and
another frost, when the streets were again glazed
with ice. On awaking one night it seemed day-
light. Hutton rose in tears, being fearful of pun-
ishment, and went to his father's bedside to ask
what was the elock. He was told it was about
six. He then darted out in terror ; and from the
bottom of Fall-street to the top of Silkmill Lane,
not 200 yards, he fell down nine times. Observ-
ing no light in the mill, he perceived it was still
very early, and that the reflection of the snow
into his bed-room window must have deceived
him. As he was returning home it struck two.

On the 9th of March, 1731, the youth was so
unfortunate as to lose his mother. After her
death his father gave up housekeeping, sold the
furniture, and spent the money — took lodgings
for himself and children with a widow, who had
four of her own. His mother dead, his father
continually at an ale-house, and himself among
stangers, his life was forlorn indeed! He was
almost without a home, nearly without clothes,
and his cupboard, we need scarcely add, was
scanty enough. At one time, he fasted from
breakfast one day till noon the next, and then
only dined upon flour and water boiled into a
hasty-pudding. He was also afflicted with the
hooping-cough and with boils, His master at the

124: MEN WHO HAVE EISEX.

mill was very cruel to him ; he made a severe
wound in his back when beating him with a cane.
It grew gradually worse. In a succeeding punish-
ment the point of the cane struck the wound,
which brought it into such a state that mortifica-
tion was apprehended. His father was advised to
bathe him in Keddleston water. A cure was
effected, but he continued to carry the scar.
When his seven years' servitude at the silk mill
had expired, it was necessary to think of some
other trade. Hutton wished to be a gardener,
but his father opposed this, and to save himself
expense and trouble turned him over for another
term of years to his brother, a stocking-maker at
Nottingham. On being transferred from Derby
to Nottingham, he did not find that his condition
was much improved. His uncle acted in a very
friendly manner towards him, but his aunt was
mean and sneaking, and grudged him every meal
he ate. She kept a constant eye upon the food
and the feeder. This curb galled his mouth to
that degree, that he never afterwards ate at
another's table without fear. He had also to work
over-hours, early and late, to gain a trifle to clothe
himself with ; but so little was he able to earn,
that during even the severest part of the winter,
he was obliged to be content with a light thin
waistcoat, without a lining ; as for a coat, he could
not possibly get money enough to purchase one.
On the 12th of July, 1741, the ill treatment he
received from his uncle in the shape of a brutal

HTTTTON THE JIOOKSELLEK.

'He had only twopence in hu pocket, a spacious world before Lim, and no plan of operaii

I'A'.K 1-J...

HUTTOX, THE BOOKSELLER. 125

flogging, with a birch broom-handle of white
hazel, which almost killed him, caused him to run
away. He was then in his seventeenth year, and
was badly dressed, nearly five feet high, and
rather of Dutch make. He carried with him a
long narrow bag of brown leather, that would
hold about a bushel, in which was packed up a
new suit of clothes ; also a white linen bag which
would hold about half as much, containing a six-
penny loaf of the coarsest bread ; a bit of butter
wrapped in the leaves of an old copy book ; a new
Bible worth three shillings ; one shirt ; a pair of
stockings ; a sun-dial ; his best w^ig carefully
folded and laid at the top, that by lying in the
hollowr of the, bag it might not be crushed. The
ends of these two bags being tied together, he
flung them over his left shoulder, rather in the
style of a cock-fighter. Being unable to put his
hat into the bag, he hung it to the button of his
coat. He had only twopence in his pocket, a
spacious world before him, and no plan of opera-
tion. He carried neither a light heart nor a light
load ; and all that was light about him was the
sun in the heavens and the money in his pocket.
He steered his course to Derby, and near to that
town he slept in a field. The next morning he
arrived at Litchfield, and espying a barn in a field,
he thought it would afford him a comfortable
shelter; on approaching it, however, and trying
the door, he found it was locked. He then went
in search of another lodging, leaving his bags be-

126 MEN WHO HAVE KISEK.

hind him ; to his horror, on returning for them,
he discovered that they had been stolen. Terror
seized him, he roared after the rascal, but might
as well have been silent, for thieves seldom come
at call. Running, roaring, and lamenting about
the fields and roads occupied some time. He was
too deeply plunged in distress to find relief in
tears. He described the bags and told the affair
to all he met ; and from all he found pity or seem-
ing pity, but redress from none. He saw his
hearers dwindle away with the summer twilight,
and by eleven o'clock he found himself in the open
street, left to tell his mournful tale to the silent
night. It is not easy to conceive a human being
in a more forlorn situation. His finances were
nothing ; he was a stranger to the world, and the
world was a stranger to him; no employment,
nor likely to procure any ; he had neither food to
eat nor a place to rest ; all the little property he
had upon earth had been taken from him ; nay,
even hope, that last and constant friend of the
unfortunate, well-nigh forsook him. In this miser-
able state of destitution he sought repose upon
a butcher's block. Next day he continued his
way to Birmingham, and on arriving there he was
much struck with the bustle and alacrity of the
people. He little thought then, that in the course
of nine years he should become a resident in it,
and thirty-nine years afterwards its historian.
Here he made various unsuccessful applications
for work. At night he sat down to rest upon the

HUTTOX, THE BOOKSELLER. 127

iiorth side of the Old Cross, near Philip Street —
the poorest of all the poor belonging to that great
parish, of which, twenty-seven years afterwards,
he became overseer. He sat under that roof a
silent, oppressed object, where, thirty-one years
afterwards, he sat to determine differences between
man and man. He next day proceeded to Coven-
try, where he slept at the Star Inn, not as a
chamber guest, but a hay-loft one. Not being
able to procure any work, he then steered his
course to Derby ; and finally, it was arranged that
he should return to Nottingham again, which he
accordingly did. His wretched and unhappy
ramble had damped his rising spirit — it sunk him
in the eyes of his acquaintance, and he did not
recover his former balance for two years. It also
ruined him in point of dress, for he was not able
to re-assume his former appearance for a long time.
Hutton took a fancy to music, and purchased a
bell-harp. This was a source of pleasure during
many years. For six months he used every effort
that ingenuity could devise to bring something
like a tune out of this instrument ; still his pro-
gress was but slow. Like all others, however,
who ever have succeeded in any art or pursuit,
perseverance was his motto, and he kept the fol-
io whig couplet hi his memory :

" Despair of nothing that you would attain,
Unwearied diligence your point will gain ;"

and the difficulties that he at first had to contend
with soon vanished.

128 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

As soon as his second apprenticeship was corn-
pleted, Hutton continued with his uncle as a jour-
neyman, in which capacity he was able to save a
little money. Having contracted a habit of read-
ing what books came in his way, he was now
enabled better to gratify this taste, by purchasing
a few works. Among others he bought three
volumes of the "Gentleman's Magazine," which,
being in a tattered state, he contrived to bind.
As the stocking trade was very bad, and would
not support him, he contrived, with considerable
difficulty, to learn the art of bookbinding, and
after the most devoted attention to it, he managed
to become pretty expert at it. In the year 1747
he set out for London, with the intention of try-
ing to gain his livelihood by his third trade. His
sister Catherine raised for him three guineas,
sewed them in his shirt collar, and he commenced
his arduous journey on Monday morning, the 8th
of April, at three o'clock. Not being used to
walk, his feet were blistered with the first ten
miles. He would not, however, succumb to the
pain and fatigue he experienced, but continued to
walk on until he had got over fifty-one miles.
On the Wednesday evening he arrived in London,
and took up his residence at an inn called the
" Horns," in Smithfield. He remained in London
a few days, but without being able to procure any
work, and, as he was entirely friendless, he thought
it the most prudent thing he could do to return
to Nottingham. He then took a shop at South-

HUTTON, THE BOOKSELLER. 129

well, which he stocked with a quantity of old
books he had contrived to buy with his slender
finances. As he only attended at Southwell on
the market day, Saturday, he had to walk to that
place through all sorts of weather ; setting out
about five o'clock in the morning, opening shop
about ten, starving in it all day upon bread and
cheese and half-a-pint of ale ; taking about one
shilling and sixpence or two shillings, and then,
trudging through the solitary night for five hours,
he arrived at Nottingham again. Thus for some
time he continued to work at the stocking-frame
during the first five days of the week, and to
attend at Southwell on the Saturday ; and al-
though he worked early and late, and practiced
the most rigid economy, he could scarcely get his
daily bread. Never despairing of success, he looked
out for a shop in Birmingham, and removed to
that town. He had arranged with a poor woman
who resided at No. 6 Bull Street, for part of her
small shop, agreeing to pay her one shilling a-week
for the use of it. He was also, through the kind-
ness of a clergyman, enabled to make a better
show than he had hitherto done in point of stock.
This gentleman had a quantity of old books, which
he let Hutton have upon his signing a note to the
effect that he would pay him when he was able.

Hutton soon was able, and discharged the debt

accordingly. "First creep and then go," is a

popular remark. This seems to have been the

maxim on which the subject of this memoir acted.

9

130 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

He could not possibly have started in business
with less means: we shall see how he contrived to
get on. When he first opened his Birmingham
shop, everything around him seemed gloomy and
disheartening, but he managed to keep up his
spirits, and practicing his usual rigid economy, he
saved during the first year £20. By degrees his
business increased, and he took larger premises.

In the year 1755, Hutton married a young
woman, with whom he had a dowry of £100, and,
as he had saved £200 himself, he was placed in a
situation to extend his business by adding to it the
sale of paper. He had now gained a good foot-
ing upon the road to wealth, and he followed
it up with such ardor and industry, that the re-
sults were splendid and triumphant. In 1772,
Hutton was chosen one of the Commissioners of
the Court of Requests, to the onerous and gratui-
tous duties of which he devoted himself during a
period of nineteen years. In the year 1776, he
purchased a good deal of land, and as he kept
adding to his acres, he became a very extensive
landed proprietor in the course of a few years.

We have, as yet, only noticed William Hutton
as the poor, miserable, ill-treated, ill-fed, and ill-
clad mill-boy, weaver, and bookseller, gradually
making his way through * all sorts of hardships, to
competency and station. We have now to speak
of him as an author. In the year 1780, at the
age of fifty-seven, he published a " History of
Birmingham," which has always been looked upon

BUTTON, THE BOOKSELLER. 131

as a standard book of the kind. He afterwards
wrote and published the following works: "The
Journey to London ; " " The History of Black-
pool;" "The Battle of Bosworth Field, with a
Life of Richard III., till he assumed the regal
power;" "The History of Derby;" "The Bar-
bers, a poem;" "A History of the Roman Wall
which crosses the island of Britain, from the Ger-
man Ocean to the Irish Sea ; describing its ancient
appearance and present state." For the purpose
of producing a correct work on the last-named
subject, Hutton, at the age of seventy-eight years,
took a journey of six hundred miles on foot for
the purpose of exploring the wall. In this jour-
ney he was accompanied by his daughter Cathe-
rine, who traveled on horseback. She says, in a
letter written to one of her friends, " that such
was the enthusiasm of her father with regard to
the wall, that he turned neither to the right nor
to the left, except to gratify me with a sight of
Liverpool. Windermere he saw, and Ullswater
he saw, because they lay under his feet, but noth-
ing could detain him from his grand object. On
our return," she continues, " walking through
Ashton, a village in Lancashire, a dog flew at my
father and bit his leg, making a wound about the
size of sixpence. I found him sitting in the inn
at Newton, where we had appointed to breakfast,
deploring the accident and dreading its conse-
quences. They were to be dreaded. The leg
had got a hundred miles to walk in extreme hot

132 MEN WHO HAVE KISEtf.

weather. I comforted my father. 'Now,' said
I, ' you will reap the fruit of your temperance.
You have put no strong liquors or high sauces
into your leg ; you eat but when you are hungry,
and drink but when you are thirsty, and this will
enable your leg to carry you home.' The event
showed I was right. When we had got within
four days of our journey's end, I could no longer
restrain my father. We made forced marches,
and if we had had a little further to go the foot
would fairly have knocked up the horse. The
pace he went did not even fatigue his shoes. He
walked the whole six hundred miles in one pair,
and scarcely made a hole in his stockings."

IJp to the age of eighty-five, Button continued
his career as an author. He still enjoyed at that
great age the use of his faculties and health. He
had now retired to his country seat and set up his
carriage, enjoying himself in agricultural and in-
tellectual pursuits. His last years were indeed
all happiness and sunshine, if the morning of his
life, as he observes, was gloomy and lowering. At
the age of ninety, this exemplary man sunk into
the arms of death from the exhaustion of old age.

PASSAGES FKOM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF WILLIAM
HUTTON.

1741. What the mind is bent upon obtaining,
the hancVseldom fails in accomplishing. I detested
the frame, as totally unsuitable to my temper;
therefore I produced no more profit than necessity

IIUTTOX, THE BOOKSELLER. 133

demanded. I made shift, however, with a little
overwork and a little credit, to raise a genteel
suit of clothes, fully adequate to the sphere in
which I moved. The girls eyed me with some at-
tention ; nay, I eyed myself as much as any of
them.

1743. At Whitsuntide I went to see my father,
and was favorably received by my acquaintance.
One of them played upon the bell-harp. I was
charmed with the sound, and agreed for the price,
when I could raise the sum, half a crown.

At Michaelmas I went to Derby, to pay for and
bring back my bell-harp, whose sound I thought
seraphic. This opened a scene of pleasure which
continued many years. Music was my daily study
and delight. But perhaps I labored under greater
difficulties than any one had done before me. I
could not afford an instructor. I had no books,
nor could I borrow or buy ; neither had I a friend
to give me the least hint, or put my instrument in
tune.

Thus was I in the situation of a first inventor,
left to grope in the dark to find something. I
had first my ear to bring into tune, before I could
tune the instrument ; for the ear is the foundation
of all music. That is the best tune which best
pleases the ear, and he keeps the best time who
draws the most music from his tune.

For six months did I use every effort to bring
a tune out of an instrument which was so dread-
fully out, it had no tune in it. Assiduity never

MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

forsooK me. I was encouraged by a couplet I had
seen in Dyce's Spelling-book :

" Despair of nothing that you would attain,
Unwearied diligence your point will gain 1 "

When I was able to lay a foundation, the im-
provement and the pleasure were progressive
Wishing to rise, I borrowed a dulcimer, made one
by it, then learned to play upon it. But in the
fabrication of this instrument, I had neither timber
to work upon, tools to work with, nor money to
purchase either. It is said, " Necessity is the
mother of invention." I pulled a large trunk to
pieces, one of the relics of my family, but formerly
the property of Thomas Parker, the first Earl of
Macclesfield ; and as to tools, I considered that
the hammer-key and the plyers belonging to the
stocking-frame, would supply the place of hammer
and pincers. My pocket-knife was all the edge-
tools I could raise ; a fork, with one limb, was
made to act in the double capacity of spring-awl
and gimlet.

I quickly was master of this piece of music ; for
if a man can play upon one instrument he can soon
learn upon any.

A young man, apprentice to a baker, happen-
ing to see the dulcimer, asked if I could perform
upon it. Struck with the sound, and with seeing
me play with what he thought great ease, he
asked if I would part with the instrument, and at
what price ? I answered in the affirmative, and,
for sixteen shillings. He gave it. I told him, " If

IIBTTOX, THE BOOKSELLER. 135

he wanted advice, or his instrument wanted
tuning, I would assist him." " O no ; there's not
a doubt but I shall do." I bought a coat with the
money, and constructed a better instrument.

1746. An inclination for books began to ex-
pand ; but here, as in music and dress, money was
wanting. The first article of purchase was three
volumes of the "Gentleman's Magazine," 1742,
3, and 4. As I could not afford, to pay for bind-
ing, I fastened them together in a most cobbled
style. These afforded me a treat. I could only
raise books of small value, and these in worn-out
bindings. I learned to patch, procured paste,
varnish, <fce., and brought them into tolerable
order ; erected shelves, and arranged them in the
best manner I was able. If I purchased shabby
books, it is no wonder that I dealt with a shabby
bookseller, who kept his working apparatus in his
shop. It is no wonder, too, if by repeated visits
I became acquainted with this shabby bookseller,
and often saw him at work ; but it is a wonder
and a fact, that I never saw him perform one act
but I could perform it myself ; so strong was the
desire to attain the art. I made no secret of my
progress, and the bookseller rather encouraged
me, and for two reasons : I bought such rubbish
as nobody else would ; and he had often an
opportunity o/ selling me a cast-off tool for a
shilling, not worth a penny. As I was below
every degree of opposition, a rivalship was out of
the question. The first book I bound was a very

136 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

small one — Shakspeare's " Venus and Adonis." I
showed it to the bookseller. He seemed sur-
prised. I could see jealousy in his eye. However,
he recovered in a moment. He had no doubt but
I should break. He offered me a worn-down
press for two shillings, which no man could use,
and which was laid by for the fire. I considered
the nature of its construction, bought it, and paid
the two shillings. I then asked him to favor me
with a hammer and a pin, which he brought with
half a conquering smile and half a sneer. I drove
out the garter-pin, which, being galled, prevented
the press from working, and turned another square,
which perfectly cured the press. He said in anger,
" If I had known, you should not have had it."
However, I could see he consoled himself with
the idea that all must return in the end. This
proved for forty-two years my best binding press.
I now purchased a tolerably genteel suit of clothes,
and was so careful of them, lest I should not be
able to procure another, that they continued my
best for five years. The stocking-frame being
my own, the trade being dead, the hosiers would
not employ me ; they could scarcely employ their
own frames. I was advised to try Leicester, and
took with me half-a-dozen pair of stockings to
sell. I visited several warehouses ; but, alas ! all
proved blank. They would neither employ me,
nor give for my goods anything near prime cost.
As I stood like a culprit before a gentleman of
the name of Bennet, I was so affected that I burst

1IUTTON, TilE BOOKSKLLEE. 137

into tears, to think that I should have served seven
years to a trade at which I could not get bread-
My sister took a house, and, to soften the rent,
my brother and I lodged with her.

1747. It had been the pride of my life, ever
since pride commenced, to wear a watch. I
bought a silver one for thirty-five shillings. It
went ill. I kept it four years, then gave that and
a guinea for another, which went as ill. I after-
wards exchanged this for a brass one, which,
going no better, I sold it for five shillings ; and,
to complete the watch farce, I gave the five
shillings away, and went without a watch thirty
years.

I had promised to visit my father on Whitsun
eve, at Derby. Business detained me till it was
eleven at night before I arrived. Expectation
had for some time been on the stretch, and was
now giving way. My father being elevated with
liquor, and by my arrival, rose in ecstacy, and gave
me the first kiss, and, I believe, the last, he ever
gave me.

This year I began to dip into rhyme. The
stream was pleasant, though I doubt whether it
flowed from Helicon. Many little pieces were the
produce of my pen, which perhaps pleased ; how-
ever, they gave no offence, for they slept on my
shelf till the rioters burnt them in 1791.

1748. Every soul who knew me scoffed at the
idea of my bookbinding, except my sister, who
encouraged and aided me ; otherwise I must have

1 38 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

sunk under it. I considered that I was naturally
of a frugal temper ; that I could watch every
penny ; live up a little ; that I hated stocking-
making, but not bookbinding ; that if I continued
at the frame, I was certain to be poor ; and if I
ventured to leave it, I could not be so. My only
fear was lest I should draw in my friends ; for I
had nothing of my own. I had frequently heard
that every man had, some time or other in his life,
an opportunity of rising. As this was a received
opinion, I would not contradict it. I had, however,
watched many years for the high tide of my affairs,
but thought it never yet had reached me. I still
pursued the two trades. Hurt to see my three
volumes of magazines in so degraded a state, I took
them to pieces, and clothed them in a superior
dress.

1749. It was now time to look out for a future
place of residence. A large town must be the
mark, or there would be no room for exertion.
London was thought of, between my sister and
me, for I had no soul else to consult. This was
rejected for two reasons. I could not venture into
such a place without a capital, and my work was
not likely to pass among a crowd of judges. My
plan was to fix upon some market town, within a
stage of Nottingham, and open shop there on the
market day, till I should be better prepared to be-
gin the world at Birmingham.

I fixed upon Southwell as the first step of eleva-
tion. It was fourteen miles distant, and the town

nUTTON, THE BOOKSELLER. 139

as despicable as the road to it. I went over at
Michaelmas, took a shop at the rate of twenty
shillings a-year, sent a few boards for shelves, a
few tools, and about two hundred weight of trash^
which might be dignified with the name of books,
and worth, perhaps, a year's rent of my shop. I
was my own joiner, put up the shelves and their
furniture, and in one day became the most eminent
bookseller in the place.

During this rainy winter, I set out at five every
Saturday morning, carried a burden of from three
pounds' weight to thirty, opened shop at ten,
starved in it all day upon bread, cheese, and half-
a-pint of ale, took from one to six shillings, shut
up at four, and, by trudging through the solitary
night and the deep roads five hours more, I
arrived at Nottingham at nine, where I always
found a mess of milk porridge by the fire, prepared
by my valuable sister. Nothing short of a sur-
prising resolution and rigid economy could have
carried me through this scene.

1750. Returning to Nottingham, I gave warn-
ing to quit at Southwell, and prepared for a total
change of life.

On the 10th of April, I entered Birmingham for
the third time, to try if I could be accommodated
with a small shop. If I could procure any situa-
tion, I should be in the way of procuring a better.
On the llth I traveled the streets of Birmingham,
agreed with Mrs. Dix for the lesser half of her
shop, No. 6 in Bull Street, at one shilling a-week ;

140 MEN AV1IO HAVE lilSEJST.

and slept at Lit oilfield on my way back to Not-
tingham.

On May 13th, Mr. Rudsdall, a dissenting
minister of Gainsborough, with whom my sister
had lived as a servant, traveling from Nottingham
to Stamford, requested my company, and offered
to pay my expenses, and give me eighteen pence
a day for my time. The afternoon Avas wet in the
extreme. He asked why I did not bring my
great-coat ? Shame forbade an answer, or I could
have said I had none. The water completely
soaked through my clothes, but, not being able
to penetrate the skin, it filled my boots. Arriving
at the inn, every traveler, I found, was wet ; and
every one produced a change of apparel but me.
I was left out because the house could produce no
more. I was obliged to sit the whole evening in
my drenched garments, and to put them on nearly
as wet on my return the next morning ! What
could I expect but destruction ? Fortunately I
sustained no injury.

It happened that Mr. Rudsdall now declined
housekeeping, his wife being dead. He told my
sister that he should part with the refuse of his
library, and would sell it to me. She replied,
" He has no money." " We will not differ about
that. Let him come to Gainsborough ; he shall
have the books at his own price." I walked to
Gainsborough on the 15th of May, stayed there
the 16th, and came back on the 17th.

The books were about two hundred pounds'

nUTTON, THE BOOKSELLER. 141

weight. Mr. Rudsdall gave me his corn-chest for
their deposit ; and for payment drew the following
note, which I signed : " I promise to pay to Am-
brose Rudsdall, one pound seven shillings, when I
am able." Mr. Rudsdall observed, "You never
need pay this note if you only say you are not
able." The books made a better show, and were
more valuable than all I possessed beside.

I had now a most severe trial to undergo ; part-
ing with my friends, and residing wholly among
strangers. May 23d, I left Nottingham, and I
arrived at Birmingham on the 25th. Having little
to do but look into the street, it seemed singular
to see thousands of faces pass, and not one that I
knew. I had entered a new world, in which I led
a melancholy life — a life of silence and tears.
Though a young man, and of rather a cheerful
turn, it was remarked " that I was never seen to
smile." The rude family into which I was cast
added to the load of melancholy.

My brother came to see me about six weeks
after my arrival, to whom I observed, that the
trade had fully supported me. Five shillings
a-week covered every expense — as food, rent,
washing, lodging, &c. Thus a solitary year rolled
round, when a few young men of elevated cha-
racter and sense took notice of me. I had saved
about twenty pounds, and was become more re-
conciled to my situation. The first who took a
fancy to me was Samuel Salte, a mercer's appren-
tice, who, five years after, resided in London,

14:2 HEX WHO HAVE KISEN.

where he acquired £100,000. He died in
Our intimacy lasted his life.

In this first opening of prosperity, an unfortun-
ate circumstance occurred which gave me great
uneasiness, as it threatened totally to eclipse the
small prospect before me. The overseers, fearful
I should become chargeable to the parish, exam-
ined me with regard to my settlement ; and, with
the voice of authority, ordered me to procure a
certificate, or they would remove me. Terrified,
I wrote to my father, who returned for answer,
" That All Saints, in Derby, never granted certi-
ficates."

I was hunted by ill-nature two years. I re-
peatedly offered to pay the levies, which was re-
fused. A succeeding overseer, a draper, of whom
I had purchased two suits of clothes, value £10,
consented to take them. The scruple exhibited a
short sight, a narrow principle, and the exultations
of power over the defenceless.

Among others who wished to serve me, I had
two friends, Mr. Dowler, a surgeon, who resided
opposite me, and Mr. Grace, a hosier at the Gate-
way, in the High Street. Great consequences
often arise from small things. The house adjoin-
ing that of Mr. Grace's was to be let. My friends
both urged me to take it. I was frightened at the
rent, eight pounds. However, one drew, and the
other pushed, till they placed me there. A small
house is too large for a man without furniture, and
n small rent maybe too large for an income which

HUTTON, THE BOOKSELLER. 143

has nothing certain in it but the smallness. Hav-
ing felt the extreme of poverty, I dreaded nothing
so much ; but I believed I had seized the tide, and
I was unwilling to stop. Here I pursued business
in a more elevated style, and with more success.

No event in a man's life is more consequential
than marriage, nor is any more uncertain. Upon
this die his sum of happiness depends. Pleasing
views arise, which vanish as a cloud ; because,
like that, they have no foundation. Circum-
stances change, and tempers with them. Let a
man's prior judgment be ever so sound, he cannot
foresee a change ; therefore he is liable to deception.
I was deceived myself, but, thanks to my kind fate,
it was on the right side. I found in my wife more
than I ever expected to find in woman. Just in
proportion as I loved her, I must regret her loss.
If my father, with whom I only lived fourteen
years, who loved me less, and has been gone forty,
never is a day out of my thoughts, what must be
my thoughts towards her, who loved me as her-
self, and with whom I resided an age !

1 756. My dear wife brought me a little daugh-
ter, who has been the pleasure of my life to this
day. We had now a delightful plaything for both.

Robert Bage, an old and intimate friend, and a
paper-maker, took me to his inn, where wre spent
the evening. He proposed that I should sell paper
for him, which I might either buy on my own ac-
count, or sell on his by commission. As I could
spare one or tvro hundred pounds, T chose to pur-

144: MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

chase ; therefore appropriated a room for the re-
ception of goods, and hung out a sign — The Paper
Warehouse. From this small hint I followed the
stroke forty years, and acquired an ample fortune.

1763. We took several pleasurable journeys;
among others, one at Aston, and in a superior
style to what we had done before. This is the
peculiar privilege of us Birmingham men: if ever
we acquire five pounds extraordinary, we take care
to show it.

1764. Every man has his hobby-horse, and it is
no disgrace prudently to ride him. He is the pru-
dent man who can introduce cheap pleasures with-
out impeding business. About ten of us, intimate
friends, amused ourselves with playing at tennis.
Entertained with the diversion, we erected a tennis-
court, and met on fine evenings for amusement,
without expense. I was constituted steward of our
little fraternity. My family continued their jour-
neys, and were in a prosperous state.

FKA^KLIN, THE NAYIGATOE.

SIR JOHN FRANKLIN was born in the year 1786,
of a respectable family in Lincolnshire, England,
possessed for several centuries of an estate and
position which very probably gave them their
name originally. The father of Sir John was com-
pelled to part with the patrimonial estate, and
sent his children into active life, upon very slender
means, and without interest with which to work
'their way to distinction.

John, the youngest of four sons, was destined by
his father for the Church, or for agricultural pur-
suits ; but he showed so strong a predilection for
the sea, that he was allowed to have his way, and
entered the navy on the 1st of October, 1800, at
the age of fourteen, on board the Polyphemus,
sixty-four gun-ship. He was present at the
action off Copenhagen in 1801. Immediately
afterwards, one phase of his career of exploration
commenced. He was one of the party in the In-
vestigator under his relative Captain Flinders, and
10

146 MEN V\TIIO HAVE RISEN.

though only a, young midshipman, was personally
associated with his Commander in all his explora-
tions and survey of the coasts of Australia, and
suffered shipwreck with him in Torres Straits,
near Cato Bank, in August, 1803. A worthy
beginning it was for that adventurous career, self-
adopted, and nobly carried out in after days. The
Earl Cam den, an East Indiaman, conveyed Frank-
lin home, and he distinguished himself highly even
on this incidental passage, aiding in the repulse of
the French squadron under Linois. Bonaparte was
then contesting the seas most futilely.

As signal-midshipman in the Bellerophon, Frank-
lin was present at Trafalgar, on the 21st of Octo-
ber, 1805 ; and during the succeeding years, rising
to the rank of lieutenant, he served at Flushing,
and afterwards at New Orleans (1814). During
the engagements at the latter place, he command-
ed some of the boats of the British squadron
which captured the strong gun-boats of the Amer-'
icans, after a hard struggle and severe losses. The
attempted siege ended unhappily for the British ;
to Franklin, however, the campaign brought a
more solid reward, in the shape of a strong recom-
mendation for immediate promotion. He had,
indeed, not only proved his merits professionally,
but he had shown himself to be a man of ready
resources in all departments of action. He had,
in short, given an indication of those general and
superior abilities which afterwards came more fully
to light during his arctic explorations.

FJRANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOR.

Franklin, after serving in the interval as first
lieutenant of the Fourth, at length made his debut
in the field of Northern Discovery in 1818. At
this period, Captain David Buchan, of the Doro-
thea, 370 tons, had been instructed to attempt
(as Parry did afterwards) a direct northern passage,
that is, to and through the very centre of the
polar circle ; and Franklin, his chosen colleague,
was nominated to the command of the Trent, a
hired vessel of 250 tons. The enterprising navi-
gators set sail in the spring of the year mentioned
and made for Spitzbergen. On arriving there
they endeavored several times to pass north-
wards, but could not get beyond latitude 80 deg.
15 min., where they were locked up for three
weeks in the ice. They tried the east coast of
Greenland on being released, but were again
baffled by the ice. It gave worthy occasion to try
the patience and courage of Franklin, the dangers
undergone being inconceivably great. Buchan
and his colleague arrived in England in October,
1818, Franklin having vainly sought permission
from his commanding officer to prosecute the voy-
age alone ; a request very naturally denied him,
on account of the injury which the vessels had re-
ceived.

The eyes of the British Government, as well as
of all interested in arctic discovery, were now
fixed on Lieutenant Franklin, as a man possessed
of every leading quality requisite for conducting
these honorable and perilous northern explora-

1-48 MEN WHO HAVE KISEJST.

tions. In 1819, accordingly, he was selected for
the great enterprise of descending the Copper-
mine River, which, like Mackenzie River, carries
a portion of the waters of Arctic North America
into the Polar Ocean, and the course of which
had never before been specially investigated.
The mouth of the Coppermine once reached,
Franklin was directed to make his Avay along the
vast and yet almost unknown line of coast to the
westward, that is, towards Behring's Straits. This
task, involving a guideless peregrination of im-
mense length, and in a clime of surpassing severity,
was certainly one of the most formidable that
could be undertaken by man ; but with his admi-
rable coadjutors, Lieutenants Back and Hood and
Dr. Richardson, Franklin manfully girded up his
loins for the adventure. On the 23d of May, 1819,
he set sail in a ship belonging to the Hudson's
Bay Company, and, after narrowly escaping ship-
wreck, crossed Hudson's Bay safely, and arrived
at York Factory on its western shores. Here a
strong boat was built for the party, and, on the
9th of September, they began to ascend Hayes
River, on their inland route to the Coppermine.
Seven hundred miles of river transit were accom-
plished by them at this period, a feat rendered
alike difficult and perilous by falls, rapids, swamps,
and countless other obstacles. A valuable chart
resulted from this part of the journey. Reaching
Cumberland House, a station on Pine Island Lake,
on the close of October, the setting in of the ice

THE NAVIGATOE. 149

compelled Franklin to pause till January, when,
accompanied by Back, and a faithful seaman
named Hepburn (to whose fidelity and hardihood
the whole party afterwards owned themselves to
have been more than once indebted for their lives),
the commander moved westwards for another
eight hundred and fifty miles, and reached Fort
Chipewyan on the 20th March. Another impor-
tant inland chart was the product of this excursion.
The station of Fort Chipewyan is situated on the
Lake Athabasca, into which Slave River flows
from the Great Slave Lake. The locality lies
towards the centre of Arctic America, or about
latitude 110 deg., and was reached by Franklin
chiefly by the aid of dogs and sledges. Many
interesting observations were made about this
period by Franklin, Back, Hood, and Richardson,
on the Cree, Chipewyan, and Stone Indians, and
on the native features and productions of the
country generally ; while Lieutenant Hood also
indefatigably pursued a course of meteorogieax
and other scientific inquiries. But attention must
be confined here mainly to the contributions of
Franklin to geognostic science.

Ah1 this while Franklin was drawing near to
the upper part of the course of the Coppermine,
and, being joined at Fort Chipewyan in July by
Richardson and Hood, he entertained strong
hopes of wintering at the mouth of the river men-
tioned, the grand object of his enterprise. Hav-
ing obtained three canoes and various supplies of

150 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

food and ammunition, the whole party started
briskly for the north, along Slave River. Six
Englishmen (Mr. Wentzel of the Fur Company
having joined the corps), seventeen hired Canadian
voyageurs (all French or half-breeds), and three
interpreters, constituted, at this period, the expe-
dition ; and a considerable number of Indians,
also, were engaged as guides and hunters, under
the leadership of a chief named Akaitcho. All
went well for a tune ; deer were shot plentifully ;
but as the party moved northwards the hardships
of the route grew severe, and food more scarce.
All that Franklin could accomplish that season
was merely to behold the Coppermine River.
Fain would he have borne all risks, and attempted
its descent, but Akaitcho told him that he would
do so only to perish. " I will send some of my
young men with you if you persist in advancing,
but from the moment that they embark in your
canoes I and my relatives shall lament them as
dead." The English commander was therefore
compelled to settle in winter quarters, which he
did at a place termed Fort Enterprise, near the
head of the Coppermine, and distant five hundred
and fifty miles from Fort Chipewyan. The ad-
venturers had now advanced about one thousand
five hundred and twenty miles, in the course of
1820, into the heart of these obscure and perilous
regions.

As strong a winter-house of wood being erected
as possible, the party passed their time for some

FRANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOR. 151

months mainly in shooting and fishing. But,
though the reindeer were pretty numerous, and
nearly two hundred fell before the hunters, the
influx of famished Indians to the station greatly
lessened the stores and curtailed the provisions.
The ordinary condition of the poor native people
may be guessed from their own words. Some-
times they generously gave the whole of their
own game to the strangers, saying, " We are used
to starvation, you are not." At this time fresh
supplies of amunition and other articles were
indispensable to the progress of the enterprise,
and Back undertook a foot journey to Fort Chip-
ewyan to procure what was requisite. Perhaps
his passage of the intervening five hundred miles,
in the midst of an arctic winter, when noon is
almost midnight, formed one of the most severe
trials of this whole journey. At a distance of a
few feet from the house fires, the thermometer
stood at fifteen below zero, and we may thus con-
jecture what Back had to endure while camping
nightly out of doors. He and his comrades were
even exposed to painful changes of temperature,
causing a French-Canadian to say, " It is terrible,
to be frozen and sun-burnt in one day." The
heavy snow-shoes, too, galled their feet and ankles,
till they bled profusely. Nevertheless, Back man*
aged to return safely to Fort Enterprise, with
four sledges laden with needful goods and supplies.
Others followed, and still more were promised for
prospective necessities.

152 MEN WHO HAVE BISEN.

In the beginning of July, 1821, tne party ap-
proached and began to descend the Coppermine
River, two frail canoes being their sole means of
conveyance. At the outset, Akaitcho and his In-
dians accompanied them, and, by hunting on
shore, kept up a decent supply of food. After a
painful route of three hundred and thirty-four
miles, one hundred and seventeen of which were
accomplished by dragging the canoes over land,
Franklin at length found himself (19th July) on
the shores of the great Northern Ocean. The
Indians had now gone back, partly alarmed by a
meeting with a small Esquimaux party, their
enemies. Provisions now ran low with the expe-
dition, and the Canadian voyageurs expressed
great fears at embarking on an unknown sea in
frail bark canoes. But, after having made all pos-
sible preparations (through the returning Indians
and Mr. Wentzel) for obtaining food at different
land stations on the way back, Franklin boldly
launched on the polar main, and moved west-
wards, or in the direction of Behring's Straits.
It is unnecessary to dwell on the toils and dangers
of the subsequent sea voyage. They advanced only
six degrees and a half along the coast, in a direct
line, though bays, and gulfs, and islands lengthened
their actual route to six hundred and fifty miles.
Necessities of all kinds at length began to press
upon the party, and compelled Franklin to turn
back. He resolved to make his way to Fort
Enterprise by a river which had been passed on

FKANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOE. 153

his advance, and which he had called Hood's
River, but the expedition had only ascended this
stream for a few miles, when they were completely
stopped by a magnificent cataract; and they then
set to work to make two new and small portable
canoes, with which they might proceed inland,
taking to the waters when they found it practi-
cable, or crossing them when necessary. They
counted their direct distance from Fort Enter-
prise to be no more than one hundred and forty
miles, and all were in high spirits at the thoughts
of rest there and good food. This journey, how-
ever trifling seemingly to what they had before
performed, was destined to be a terrible and fatal
one. It was commenced early in the month of
September, and during the first few miles they
were ominously met by a snow-storm, which ab-
solutely drove them to hide under their blankets
for two entire days. Their preserved meat failed
them, and they had no resource, when they re-
sumed their path, save to eat tripe-de-roche, a sort of
lichen or moss found on the rocks. The deer rarely
appeared in their way, and still more rarely could
they kill them when seen. All the band began
to feel the horrors of starvation, and to sink under
the clime. Their bodies became miserably ema-
ciated, and a mile or two formed a heavy days'
journey. The Canadians grew unmanageable
through despair, and at length both canoes were
lost, or rather Avillfully destroyed, the men refusing
to drag them along. The consequences of this

154: MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

conduct of the Canadians, against which Franklin
remonstrated in vain, became tbo plainly apparent
when they did finally reach the Coppermine.
For eight days the famished band stood shivering
on the banks of the river, unable to get across,
though its width was but one hundred and thirty
yards. The brave Richardson finally offered to
swim over with a line, which might have got a
raft across, but, after going half way, he sank, and
had to be pulled back, nearly dead. At last, a
sort of wicker boat, lined with painted cloth, took
them all safely over the stream; but, in their
wretched condition of body, supported by almost
nothing save tripe-de-roche (which could scarcely
be called nutriment, and injured many of the
eaters), they could only advance by inches, as it
were, though Fort Enterprise was now within forty
or fifty miles of them in a direct line. Snows and
rains fell upon them incessantly ; they had stream
after stream to cross ; and fuel often failed as well
as food. Two of the men dropped behind, sinking
on the ground, benumbed with cold, and incapable
of motion. Dr. Richardson and Hood, with Hep-
burn, resolved, for the sake of these men, to encamp
for a time, and allow Franklin with the rest to go
forward, in the hope of procuring aid at Fort En-
terprise from the Indians. The adventures of
Richardson at this encampment are thrillingly in-
teresting. The two men who had fallen behind
perished, but the doctor and his friends were
joined by one of the vovageurs, who had fallen

FKANKLIX, THE NAVIGATOE. 155

back, finding himself (as he said) unable to go on
with Franklin. This individual, an Iroquois or
half breed voyageur, named Michel, grew strong,
comparatively, and was able to hunt. He brought
to the tent pieces of flesh, which he said had been
part of a wolf killed by a deer's horn. Later cir-
cumstances led Dr. Richardson to the conclusion,
however, that this flesh was actually part of the
bodies of the two stragglers, found by Michel in
the snow, and possibly found not yet dead. Michel
became gloomy and sullen, awakening the suspi-
cions of his companions, and adding fresh horrors
to their already horrible situation. He watched
the Doctor and Hepburn so closely that they could
not speak a word to one another, while poor Hood
Lay in the tent incapable of motion, and seemingly
near his end. At length, on the 20th of October,
when the Doctor and Hepburn were severally
employed out of doors, a shot was heard in the
tent, and there they found Hood killed by a ball
through the head. Michel, who was about him at
the time, declared that he must have slain himself,
or the gun must have gone off accidentally ; but
Richardson saw clearly that the shot had certainly
been fired from behind, close to the head. Not-
withstanding his assertions as to the cause, Michel
could not refrain from betraying guilt by con-
tinually exclaiming, " You do not suppose that I
murdered him ! " Indeed, he was not assailed by
any such charges. His companions, than whom,
perhaps, two men were never more unhappily

156 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

placed, dared not utter a word on the subject, as
Michel had strength enough to have overpowered
them both openly, and with ease. That he would
do so at the first opportunity — that he would
never return to Fort Enterprise with them — they
now also felt as a thing indubitable. By a great
and memorable exertion of moral courage, Dr.
Richardson saved himself and his friend Hepburn
from the fate impending over them. On the third
day after the murder of Hood, the three compan-
ions set out for Fort Enterprise, and on the way
Michel, staying behind under the plea of gathering
some tripe-de-roclie, allowed the two Englishmen
to speak alone for the first time. Their mutual
sense of being doomed to almost instant death
proved so strong as at once to determine Richard-
son on his course. On Michel coming up, the
doctor put a pistol to the head of the wretch and
shot him dead on the spot. The Iroquois had
loaded his gun, but had gathered no tripe-de-roche.
It is scarcely possible to doubt that but for this
terrible step, Richardson and Hepburn would both
have been sacrificed, and most probably on that
very day. Michel durst not permit them to go
alive to the Fort, to tell their sad and accusing
tale.

On the llth of November, Franklin had reached
Fort Enterprise with five companions, but their
joy at reaching its shelter was sadly damped by
the desolation of the place, and by the want of
food. It was found from a note that the unwearied

FEANKLLtf, THE XAYIGATOR. 157

Back (who had moved on in advance) had been
there, but, seeing the condition of matters, he had
instantly set oft' in search of the Indians, to pro-
cure supplies against the arrival of his famished
associates. With this hope before them, the party
of Franklin set to grubbing for bones to pound
and make soup of. On this diet and tripe-de-roche
they lingered out their existence (with one or two
exceptions) till Richardson and Hepburn came up,
on the 6th November, only to bring starvation
into the midst of starvation. The skeleton figures,
the ghastly faces, and the sepulchral voices of the
adventurers, prognosticated, indeed, a speedy end
to all as regarded this world, when the arrival of
the Indians (7th November), sent by Back,
snatched them from the grasp of the grave. On
the loth December they were strong enough to
start on their journey eastward, and, being joined
by Back and his party, they safely reached the
Hudson's Bay Company's stations early in the
summer of 1822. From these stations Franklin
and his friends had an easy passage, where they
arrived after having journeyed by water and by
land (including the navigation of the Polar Sea),
the immense distance in all of five thousand five
hundred and fifty miles.

\ Though the grand point of traversing the arctic
shores of North America, from the mouth of the
Coppermine River to Behring's Straits, had not
been fully accomplished, Franklin, in addition to
the new information collected by him relative to

158 MEN WHO II AYE KISEN.

the interior, had also at least rendered it extremely
probable that the continent presents to the Polar
Ocean a direct and pretty regular line of coast the
whole way west of the Coppermine. But Frank-
lin, nothing daunted by his past sufferings, was
determined to have the honor of clearing up the
matter fully, knowing that, by tracing the shores
in the direction of his former enterprise, he would
acquire the merit of narrowing the north-west
passage question to the mere discovery of an inlet
to the Arctic Sea on the Eastern shores of North
America, either through Hudson's Bay or Baffin's
Bay, or their various channels, straits and sounds.
He therefore proposed to the British Government
to undertake an overland journey to the mouth of
Mackenzie River, by which plan he would shorten
his course along the coast to Behring's Straits,
being satisfied of the continuity of the land from
the Coppermine westward to the Mackenzie. The
British Government embraced the gallant offer of
Franklin, and the latter, now captain, was fortu-
nate enough to obtain anew the company of
Richardson and Back, his well-tried friends. Re-
collecting the previous difficulties in regard to
boats, he had three constructed at Woolwich, the
materials being mahogany with ash timbers ; while
he also prepared a portable one, only eighty-five
pounds in weight, and of which the substance wa?
ash, fastened plank to plank with thongs, and
covered with Mackintosh cloth. All was ready
in the beginning of 1825, and the expedition sailed

FRANKLIX, THE NAVIGATOR. 159

from Liverpool on the 16th of February. It
reached New York on the 15th of March. Their
further progress northwards affords nothing of
novel interest, until they reached the Great Bear
Lake, at the head of Mackenzie river — so called
from Sir Alexander Mackenzie, who descended it
in 1789, and who lived to give Franklin the bene-
fit of his friendly counsels on the occasion of his
first journey. When Captain Franklin arrived at
Great Bear Lake, he set a party to work on a
winter residence, and, eager to advance the objects
of his expedition, proceeded in person with a few
companions down the Mackenzie to look at the
Polar Sea in that region, and prepare for its navi-
gation.

Franklin and his party reached the north-eastern
entrance on the 14th August, in latitude 69 deg.
44 min., longitude 135 deg. 57 min., and rejoiced
at the sea-like appearance to the north. Observ.
ing an island in the distance, the boat's head was
directed towards it, and, hastening to its most
elevated part, the prospect was highly gratifying.
The Rocky Mountains were seen from S. W. to
W. 1-2 N"., while to the north the sea appeared in
all its majesty, with many seals and whales sport-
ing in its waves. On the 5th September they re-
turned to their winter quarters on the Great Bear
River, which now presented a lively, bustling
scene, from the preparations necessary to be made
for passing eight or nine months in what was ap-
propriately called Fort Franklin. With full em-

160 MEN WHO IIAVU KISEN.

ployment for every one, the time passed away very
cheerfully. On Christmas-day sixty human beings
assembled in the little hall to do honor to the
usual festivities — Englishmen, Highlanders, Cana-
dians, Esquimaux, Chipewyans, Dogribs, Hare
Indians, Cree women and children, all talking at
one time in their different languages, and all
mingling together in perfect harmony.

On Tuesday, the 28th June, 1856, the whole
company re-embarked in the boats, on the Mac-
kenzie, and proceeded on their voyage down that
river until the 3d July, when, on arriving at the
point where the river branches off into several
channels, the separation into two parties took
place — Captain Franklin and Back with two boats
(one of which had been built at the fort) and four-
teen men, including Augustus, a faithful interpreter
of the former journey, were to proceed to the
westward ; while Dr. Richardson and Lieutenant
Kendall, in the other two, were to proceed with
ten men to the eastward as far as the Coppermine.
We shall, however, first follow Captain Franklin
and his party.

On the 7th he arrived at the mouth of the
Mackenzie, where he fell in with a very large party
of Esquimaux, whose conduct was at first very vio-
lent, but by great command of temper, and some
conciliation, they were at length brought to restore
the articles pillaged from the boats. Captain Frank-
lin, however, speedily discovered that all their pro-
testations of regret were false, and nothing but

THE XAYIGATOK. 161

the greatest vigilance on his part saved the party
from a general massacre. On the 13th his pro-
gress towards Behring's Straits was arrested by a
compact body of ice stretching from the shore to
seaward ; and on landing for shelt er from a heavy
gale, another party of Esquimaux was met with.
On the 15th, having passed this barrier, they
arrived off Babbage's River, but again were they
involved in an icy labyrinth, which, added to the
dense fogs here found in the highest degree of per-
fection, owing to the barrier opposed to their pro-
gress south by the Rocky Chain, made it torment-
ingly slow. A month — one the most favorable
for arctic exploration — had passed in this manner,
while only 10 deg. (three hundred and seventy-
four miles) of west longitude had been attained,
and another 10 deg. still lay between them and
Icy Cape. Thus situated, and ignorant that a
hundred and fifty miles further west a boat was
awaiting him from the Blossom, which had been
sent to Behring's Straits, under Captain Beechey,
Captain Franklin justly came to the conclusion
that they had reached a point, beyond which per-
severance would have been rashness, and their
best efforts fruitless. On the 18th August they,
therefore, set out on their return, giving to their
extreme point, in latitude 70 deg. 24. min. north,
longitude 149 deg. 37 min. west, the name of Re-
turn Reef; and,with the exception of a violent storm
near Herschel Island, reached Fort Franklin on the
21st September, without any mateiial danger.
11

162 HEX WHO HAVE BISEN.

By Captain Beechey, in the meantime, an im-
portant addition had been made to our knowledge
of the arctic shores of North America. Franklin
had made it clear that from longitude 115 deg. to
149 deg. west, or from Coppermine River to Re-
turn Reef, these shores were open and navigable ;
and Beechey had advanced a considerable way
eastward from Behring's Straits, till checked by
ice. Having been instructed to avoid being shut
up, he sent forward his barge under Mr. Elson,
who examined the coast up to a point only
one hundred and fifty miles from Return Reef.
These were great accessions to geognostic science
and, as before remarked, necessarily narrowed
materially the question of a north-west pas-
sage.

Being joined by Dr. Richardson, who with his
party had made valuable and extended observa-
tions on the Coppermine River, as well as on its
Esquimaux and Indian tribes, and the native pro-
ductions of the country, Franklin and his friends
returned once more to Britain in September, 1827,
to enjoy their well- won repute. Not only his own
land but Europe generally recognized the high
deserts of Franklin. The Geographical Society
of Paris presented him, immediately on his return
home, with a valuable gold medal, thereby stamp-
ing him as the greatest geographical discoverer of
the year preceding. On the 29th April, 1829, he
received the honor of knighthood, and, shortly
afterwards, the degree of a D.C.L. from the Uni-

FRANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOR. 163

versity of Oxford. In 1830, Sir John was em-
ployed, in his naval capacity simply, to command
the Rainbow on the Mediterranean station, and
for his exertions while there in farthering the
interests and quieting the troubles of Greece, he
was decorated with the order of the Redeemer of
Greece.

The next prominent post held by Sir John
Franklin was that of Lieutenant-Governor of
Tasmania or Van Piemen's Land, his appointment
to which took place in 1836. On this occasion
he was created a knight of the Guelphic or
Hanoverian Order. He held his governorship
nearly up to his entrance on his last explora-
tions.

Having done so much to clear up the mysteries
of the northern shores of the New World, it is no
wonder that on a new voyage in search of a north-
west passage being resolved upon by the Admi-
ralty, Sir John Franklin should have been selected
for the task. Nor need we be surprised that he,
though now in the sixtieth year, should have ac-
cepted it. Satisfied of the existence of a great
navigable sea to the west, he could scarcely fail to
entertain the hope of penetrating to it at some
point or another, and thus winning the laurel so
long struggled for by himself, and by so many
able rivals. Danger, and perhaps death, he knew
lay in the way, but beyond shone the inviting
crown of deathless celebrity. Two ships were
placed under the command of Sir John Franklin

164: MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

for this fresh service in the Polar Seas, namely,
the Erebus and Terror, both of which were fitted
with small steam-engines and propellers. Captain
Crozier, who had been Parry's lieutenant in the
Hecla, was nominated to the command of the
Terror. The directions of the Admiralty were,
generally, that Sir John should enter Lancaster
Sound through Baffin's Bay, and, descending south-
westwards, into the water-way discovered by him-
self along the northern shore of the American con-
tinent, seek an opening into the western Polar
Ocean. He set sail on the 26th May, 1845, and
was last seen, by a whaler, in Baffin's Bay, on
the 26th July, at which time he was moored to an
iceberg, and waiting impatiently till the ice
would allow him to enter Lancaster Sound.

Since that period neither Sir John Franklin
nor any of his gallant company has been discov-
erable. After three years had passed, public
as well as private anxiety was awakened on be-
half of the absent ships, and during successive
years it was kept alive by continual attempts to
ascertain the proceedings and fate of the expedi-
tion. A visit to Beechey Island, in Barrow Strait,
by one of these searching vessels, disclosed the
fullest evidence that the Erebus and Terror had
passed there the winter of 1845-6, the first of
their absence. Three deaths had occurred among
tho crews, but there were indisputable signs of
the prosperous condition of the expedition, and of
the fulfillment of some of tho scientific pursuits to

FRANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOR. 165

which it was devoted. The search made subse-
quently to this important discovery, unfortunately
took a wrong direction, with the single exception
of that of a vessel (the Prince Albert) sent out by
Lady Franklin, whose instructions pointed to the
precise locality where, as is now known, the Erebus
and Terror must have been finally arrested.

It was in 1854 that the next, and, as yet, latest,
tidings were received. Dr. Rae, who was en-
gaged upon a geographical exploration in the
Hudson Bay Company's territory, accidentally
received information that a party from the missing
expedition had landed upon the coast at the mouth
of the Back or Fish River ; and he brought home
many indisputable relics, given him by the Esqui-
maux, which proved the vicinity of the Erebus
and Terror. A boat party was sent in the follow-
ing year to the spot indicated to Dr. Rae by the
Esquimaux, and it was proved that an escaping
party had reached it, and ascended the Fish
River ; traces of their progress being found higher
up, but no signs of their having perished there.
Thus the actual fate of these martyrs to science is
yet undecided — nay, though hope may well have
died out, it cannot be positively affirmed that
some may not be still alive, sharing, possibly, the
miserable existence of the Esquimaux upon the
coast, It is well known that the task of clearing
up this fearful mystery has been accepted by the
devoted wife of Franklin, and that in 1857, another
expedition (the fourth we believe, which has been

166 MEN WHO HAVE EISE1T.

mainly or wholly furnished by her funds), small,
but admirably equipped and organised, started
under the command of Captain M'Clintock, an
officer who has distinguished himself in each of the
searching expeditions sent out by the Government.
One closing word may be added. Many
persons are apt to ask, "What good end the
discovery of a north-west passage will serve ? "
They give force to their question, by assuming it
as undeniable, that the passage, even if fully made
out by a ship sailing through could never be used
for trading purposes, or any others truly beneficial.
It must be allowed that science (and not commerce)
is more deeply, or at least directly, interested in
the arctic exploration. Yet let not the merchant,
who sends out his ships to bring him gain from the
four quarters of the globe, imagine that, as being
a scientific question chiefly, the exploring of the
Arctic Circle is a matter in which he has no posi-
tive concern. The safe voyaging of his vessels
hangs upon the compass — the mysterious root of
whose power and utility lies in the heart of the
boreal regions. Let the merchant consider what
would be the chances of safety to his barks
without that instrument, and not undervalue those
labors of science which have done so much for
him before, and which have even now his final
good in view, did the settlement of the magnetic
pole form their whole and sole object. Let the
practical man of business also reflect, that to the
north-west passage question we owe the discovery

FJRAXKLIX, TIIE NAVIGATOK. 167

£ the N"ew World. Columbus sailed simply to
* 4id a western route to the Indies ; the Americas
only fell in his way by mere accident, or at least
unexpectedly. Let any one who scouts northern
exploration as useless, meditate on this one grand
fact, and be silent. On the further general and
scientific points connected with the subject it is
needless to enter. They are numerous, and in-
volve the welfare of our kind deeply.

OBERLEST THE PASTOR

THE Ban de la Roche derives its name from the
neighboring castle of La Roche. The Germans
call the Ban " Steinthal," or the valley of stone.
Formerly it was part of the province of Alsace,
in the north-east of France, and is situated on the
western slope of the Champ de Feu, an isolated
range of mountains of volcanic origin — as the
name implies — separated by a deep valley from
the eastern chain of the Vosges. The Ban con-
tains only two parishes — one called Rothau ; the
other comprises the hamlets of Waldbach, Zolbach,
Belmont, Bellefosse, and Foudai. Waldbach,
which lies nearly in the centre of these hamlets,
is about eighteen hundred feet above the level of
the sea ; and four hundred feet below Waldbach,
on the mountain-side, stands Rothau. The two
parishes contain about nine thousand acres, the
sterility of which may be judged from the fact,
that little more than fifteen hundred are capable
of cultivation. Wave after wave of persecution

OBEKLEST, THE PASTOR. 169

broke upon them during the thirty years' war and
the reign of Louis XIV., which so desolated the
Ban as to render it almost incapable of affording
sustenance to any human being. Nevertheless,
about eighty or a hundred families, destitute of
all the necessaries of civilized life, and shut out
from intercourse with the inhabitants of the neigh-
boring districts, in consequence of the want of
roads, here continued to drag on a most wretched
and miserable existence. At length the province
of Alsace was united to France — an union which
brought no change to the moral or physical condi-
tion of the poor dwellers in the " valley of stone."
About the year 1 750, a devout and earnest clergy-
man, moved by their wretched state, undertook
the charge of the Ban. His name was Stouber.
Desirous of knowing what was the state of educa-
tion in the district, he inquired for the principal
school. To his astonishment he was conducted to
a miserable hovel, in one corner of which lay a
helpless old man on a truckle bed, and around
him were grouped a crowd of ill-clad, noisy, wild-
looking children.

" Are you the schoolmaster, my good friend ? "
asked Stouber to the old man.

" Yes, sir."

" And what do you teach the children ? "

a Nothing, sir."

" Nothing ! How is that ? "

" Because," replied the old man, with genuine
naivete, " I know nothing myself."

1YO MEN WHO HAVE RISEN

"Why, then, were you appointed school-
master ? "

" Why, sir, I had been taking care of the Wald-
bach pigs, and when I got too old and infirm for
that employment, I was sent here to take care of
the children ! "

Stouber found the schools of the other villages
in a similar condition. Nothing could be more
deplorably wretched than the ignorance of the
masters, who, for the most part, were swineherds
and shepherds ! During the months of summer,
they ranged the hills with their flocks, but in
winter they were transformed into " dominies,'*
without any qualifications for their office, but a
most laudable stock of good intentions, which led
them to attempt to teach the children what they
themselves could not understand ; for the language
of the Ban is a patois, evidently the old dialect of
Lorraine; when, therefore, they taught their
charge to read a French or German elementary
work, or a fragment of a French Bible, they were
wholly incapable of explaining the sense or of
giving the correct pronunciation !

A man of less ardent piety and determined res-
olution than M. Stouber, would have departed
from the Ban in hopeless despair of ever being
able to bring about a revolution in the condition
of its wretched inhabitants; but he was rich in
faith. For fourteen years he labored unceasingly
to effect the object which lay next his heart, by
establishing schools, by assiduous pastoral visita-

OBERLIN 3 THE PASTOK. 171

tion, and by the faithful preaching of the Gospel
of Christ. Soon after the death of his wife,
Stonber was appointed to a new sphere of labor ;
but before entering on this he was anxious to see
tho Ban provided with a man " like-minded " as
himself. He knew this was no easy matter to
accomplish, for the difficulties in that isolated place
were numerous, while the income was extremely
small. The man who came there, Stouber knew,
must make up his mind to " endure hardness," to
suifer privation, to be cut off from all intercourse
with the educated, and to wholly devote himself
to the instruction of the poor and the wretched.
Consequently he feared lest he should find it im-
possible to obtain any one who would be willing
to take charge of the parish ; and this grieved him
the more, as his own health was so completely
shattered as to forbid his continuance. He, how-
ever, commenced his inquiries.

In 1740, at the gymnasium of Strasburg, a man
of very considerable classical attainments, named
Oberlin, held the office of tutor. His wife was an
amiable and accomplished woman. They had
seven sons and two daughters. Theirs was a joy-
ous household. If you visited Madame Oberlin
in the evening of almost any day in the year, you
would have found her seated in the midst of her
children, correcting their drawings, or reading
aloud to them some interesting and instructive
book. Thus her evenings were spent, and when
the hour for retiring to rest came, there was gen-

172 MEN WHO HATE EISEN.

erally a united request for one " beautiful hymn
from dear mamma ! " When that mother's voice
was no longer heard upon the earth, and the long
green grass grew thick upon her grave, those
evening hymns were remembered and their influ-
ence felt.

Oberlin was the playfellow as well as the in-
structor of his children. In the vicinity of Stras-
burg, at a place named Schiltigheim, he had a few
acres of land, and there, once a week, during the
summer, the villagers would see him, with an old
drum slung across his shoulder, acting as drill
sergeant and drummer at the same time to his lads,
whom he put through the military evolutions, with
which he was well acquainted. One of the boys,
John Frederic, in consequence of this " playing at
soldiers," became passionately attached to the
military profession. Tales and histories of battles
were eagerly sought after and as eagerly read by
him. The officers of the troops quartered in the
city were known to his family, and, being aware
of the predilection which he had formed, and as-
tonished at the acquaintance with military science
which he displayed, granted his request to be per-
mitted to join the soldiers when at exercise. The
glitter and excitement of the parade filled the
boy's mind.

He, like most of his age, did not interpret the
word " soldier." Its import was hidden from him,
or his gentle, sensitive nature would have shrunk
from it. He looked upon the troops as they marched

173

before him, with their gay clothing, and glistening
weapons, and emblazoned banners ; he heard their
regular tread and thrilling music ; but to him it
was all only a splendid summer-day pageant — he
thought not of the cruelty, and gore, and carnage
of the battle-field.

Happily for him, his father destined him for a
learned profession. Filial obedience was a pleas-
ure to the lad, so, without a regret, he gave him-
self to the ardent pursuit of the studies which his
father marked out. A few years, and the curric-
ulum was passed through, and he was now of age
to choose a profession. He made choice of the
ministry. Of the work in which he had engaged,
he had the clearest views. His w^as not an ambi-
tion to preach. The responsibilities of the Chris-
tian pastor were set before him, and he sought to
prepare himself for their efficient discharge. When
pressed to undertake a pastoral charge, his reply
was, " I need more experience, more knowledge ;
at present I am not qualified. Moreover, I wish
to labor where I can be useful, not where I can
be at ease." The key to his after life is to bo
found hi this reply. Seven years elapsed, during
which he diligently employed himself in the study
of theology, supporting himself in the meantime
by acting as tutor to the family of a distinguished
surgeon of Strasburg, in whose house he acquired
the knowledge of surgery and the healing art,
which he afterwards turned to such good in the
Ban de la Roche.

174: MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

Thus he continued teaching and studying until
1776, when the chaplaincy of a French regiment
was offered to him. The "old drum" and the
military associations of childhood were aroused up
from the sleep of years. The chaplaincy, he
thought, presented a prospect of extensive useful-
ness, so he decided to accept it. Accordingly he
resigned his tutorship, took lodgings in the city,
and commenced a preparatory course of reading.

About this period M. Stouber began his search
after a pastor to succeed him in the Ban. Ober-
lin, whose piety, disinterested benevolence, and
scholarly ability, had already won him the esteem
of his fellow-citizens, was mentioned to him as
exactly such a man as he sought. Stouber came
to Strasburg, and sought out Oberlin's lodgings.
They were in a mean street, and when he reached
the house he was directed to a little room up three
pair of stairs. He opened the door, and the first
thing that caught his eye was a small bed, covered
with curtains made of — brown paper ! He entered
the apartment and approached the bed, and there
he found Oberlin, racked with the agony of tooth-
ache. After some conversation, during which he
rallied him upon the unique character of his bed-
hangings and the poverty of his abode, he inquired
the use of a little iron pan which he saw suspended
above his table. " That," replied Oberlin, " is my
kitchen. I am accustomed every day to dine at
home with my parents, and they give me a large
piece of bread to carry back with me in my pocket.

OBERLIN, THE PASTOK. 175

At eight o'clock in the evening I put my bread
into that pan; and, having sprinkled it with a
little salt and water, I place my lamp beneath it,
and go on with my studies until ten or eleven,
when I generally begin to feel hungry, by which
time my slice of bread is nicely cooked, and I
relish it more than the choicest luxuries."

Stouber was overjoyed while he listened. This
was the very man for the Steinthal. He declared
the object of his visit, portrayed the condition of
the people, their misery and ignorance, gave ut-
terance to his own unfeigned sorrow at being
obliged to leave them, and his fear, lest he could
prevail upon him to occupy his post, that they must
perish for lack of knowledge.

Oberlin's heart was touched. The place which
Stouber described was just such a one as he had
often pictured to himself as the scene of his pas-
torate. But, then, what could he do? his en-
gagement with the regiment being all but finally
concluded. He could not think of accepting
charge of the Ban unless he was liberated from
the chaplaincy, and, moreover, except there were
before him no candidates for clerical preferment
who would accept M. Stouber's proposal. These
obstacles were soon removed. The chaplaincy
was speedily filled, and Oberlin was free to be-
come the pastor of the Ban de la Roche.

His mother accompanied him to Waldbach, and
after arranging his little establishment, she bade
him adieu, leaving with him his younger sister,

176 MEN V\TIIO HAVE EISEN.

Sophia, who took charge of his household. Pas-
tor Stouber introduced him to the parishioners ;
and in April, 1767, in the twenty-seventh year of
his age, Oberlin became pastor of the Ban de la
Roche. About a year after this event had taken
place, a lady of highly cultivated mind and agree-
able disposition came to Waldbach on a visit to
Sophia. Her name was Madeline, and she was
the orphan daughter of Professor Witter of Stras-
burg. She soon relieved Sophia of her cares as
her brother's housekeeper ; for, despite of a long-
cherished determination never to marry a clergy-
man, Madeline Witter became the wife of Ober-
lin. A more judicious choice it was impossible to
make. She was the sharer of his trials and his
joys. Her prudence and foresight balanced and
controled his enthusiastic disposition : her devoted
piety, which led her to fully participate in his
anxiety to promote the welfare of his people,
cheered him when desponding, and heightened
his joy when successful.

The testing time had now come to Oberlin.
He was a pastor and a husband. His wife, one of
the best of women ; his flock, wretched, ignorant,
scattered — a prey to laziness and hunger — with-
out the merest necessaries of life, and contented
to remain so. Let us, then, look at what this
young man possessed that his hopes should be
so strong of turning this wilderness into a " gar-
den of God." What had he?— wealth? No,
not a stiver; but he had that which wealth could

OBEKLLN", THE PASTOR. 177

not, cannot purchase — an earnest, devoted, loving
heart, a thoughtful and well-disciplined mind,
considerable scientific skill and practical ability,
a, natural and suasive eloquence which at once
won its way to the heart, habits of self-denial, of
promptitude, of perseverance, and a joyous wil-
lingness to endure all things, if by so doing he
could promote the glory of God and the good of
mankind. That such a man should accomplish
what he did is no marvel. It would have been
miraculous, indeed, if he had failed.

When he had gone over the parish, he saw that
Stouber's picture of its degraded state was by no
means too highly colored, and he felt that all his
resources would be taxed if he sought to effect
any change for the better. His quick mind at
once perceived the connexion which existed be-
tween their physical misery and their moral
degradation, so he immediately began to devise
plans to promote their civilization. His first was
to bring them into contact with the inhabitants of
the neighboring towns, rightly judging that the
comfort, and cleanliness, and intelligence which
they would behold in those places would present
such a strong contrast to the state of things in
the Steinthal as at once to beget a desire in their
minds for improvement. But how was he to
move ? All the roads connected with the parish
were literally impassable during the greater por-
tion of the year, in consequence of land-slips
which completely blocked them, or their being
12

178 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

torn up "by the rushing down of the mountain-
torrents during the winter. The people thus shut
in could neither find a market for their produce
nor obtain agricultural implements which they
required. There was but one way to effect the
desired change. Oberlin made a careful survey
of the parish, and the result was a determination
to open up a communication with the high-road
to Strasburg ; but to do this it would be necessary
to blast the rocks and to construct a solid wall to
support a road, which he proposed to carry for
about a mile and a half along the banks of a deep
mountain-stream called the Bruche, and then,
at Rothau, to build a bridge across it. He called
his parishioners together, and announced his pro-
ject. They were astonished. "He was mad,"
they said. " The thing was utterly impracticable.
They had thought for some time that there was
something strange about him, but now they were
sure he was downright insane." Thus they
thought and said, and one and all began to excuse
themselves from having any share in what they
deemed such a wild and foolish undertaking. But
Oberlin pressed the matter upon them, refuted
their objections respecting the impossibility of
accomplishing his plan, pointed out the manifest
and numerous advantages which would result
from it, both to themselves and to their children,
and wound up his harangue by shouldering a pick-
axe and exclaiming, " Let those who see the im-
portance of what I have stated come and work

OBERLIX— THE PASTOR. N^A

" Let those who sae the importance of what I luivo stated come nnd work wil'i me."— TACK 118.

OBEKLIN, THE PASTOR. 179

with me ! " The effect was electric. Opposition
gave way to cheerful acquiescence and the most
unbounded enthusiasm. He appointed to each
man a certain task. He soon had more helpers
than he could find tools for. The news of his under-
taking reached Strasburg, and implements and
funds were sent to him. Rocks were undermined
and blasted ; torrents which had overspread and
inundated the meadows were guided into chan-
nels which had been cut to receive them ; where
the land threatened to slip, walls were built to
sustain it ; the road was completed to Rothau ;
at that place he threw a neat wooden bridge
across the Bruche, which to this day is called
Le Pout de Charite. The whole was finished,
and a communication opened up with Strasburg
in 1770, about a year and a half after his mar-
riage.

But how fared it with his duties as a religious
teacher all this time? Did he neglect them?
No ; on the contrary, like the great apostle of the
Gentiles — who thought it not beneath him to
make tents during the week — Oberlin, who on
week-days headed his people in their arduous task,
on the Sabbath directed them with equal zeal
and earnestness to "the rest which remaineth for
the people of God." The immediate effect of the
success of his scheme was the gaining of almost
unbounded influence over his parishioners. They
no longer regarded him as a madman, but as the
only wise one among them. They now cheerfully

1 80 MEJST 4WIIO HAVE RISEN.

engaged in any work which he devised, and, very
soon, convenient and necessary roads traversed
the Steinthal, and connected the various villages.
While he was tutor in M. Ziegenhagen's family
in Strasburg, he became intimately acquainted
with botanical science, and acquired not merely
that knowledge which enables the empiric to
classify and denominate, but he understood the
properties of almost every plant, and could at once
tell you whether it could be used as food or med-
icine. This knowledge he at once turned to
account. He introduced the culture of several
leguminous plants and herbs ; imported seed from
Riga, and raised flax ; introduced Dutch clover ;
taught the farmers the use of manure, to make
composts, to improve the growth of the potato,
which had so far degenerated that fields which
had formerly yielded from one hundred and twenty
to one hundred and fifty bushels, now yielded only
about thirty or fifty, which the people imputed to
the sterility of the soil, instead of their own
neglect. His success was most unequivocal, and
the consequence was the augmentation of the re-
sources of the Steinthal. As an example of the
manner in which he was wont to connect all those
efforts for the temporal welfare with the spiritual
instruction of his people, the following incident is
characteristic. Although he had been so success-
ful in the affair of the road-making, and in the
introduction of an improved style of husbandry,
still among the parishioners there was a hankering

OBERLIN, THE PASTOE. 181

after "old fashions," and, for the life of them,
they could not understand how it was that he who
never dug, or ploughed, or owned an acre of land
in his life, should know more about the manage-
ment of fields and cattle than they did. Ober-
lin's sagacity at once discovered this, and so,
when he wished to make any improvement, or
to introduce any new kind of plant, or vegetable,
or tree, he began in his own garden, and when
the curiosity of the people was excited, he
detailed to them the name of the root, the object
he had in cultivating it, the mode to be observed
in its culture, <fcc., until he had thoroughly in-
structed them, and kindled a desire in their
minds to imitate him. There was scarcely a
fruit-tree worth a groat for miles around, and
there were few gardens which grew anything but
the most luxuriant weeds. To talk about the
matter Oberlin knew would be quite useless ; so
he betook himself to his old plan of teaching by
example. He had a servant who was an intelli-
gent and devoted man; they took counsel to-
gether. There were two gardens belonging to
the parsonage, each of which was crossed by a
well-frequented thoroughfare. One of these
gardens had been noted for years for the poverty
and sterility of its soil ; this he determined to
convert into a nursery-ground ! Trenches, ac-
cordingly, were dug, and the land laid out ; slips
of walnut, apple, plum, and pear trees were
planted. In due time the trees blossomed ; and

182 MEN WHO HAYE EISEN.

when the period of fruitage came, the crop was
abundant. The plan, as Oberlin anticipated,
succeeded admirably. "Week after week the vil-
lagers were wont to pause, and wonder how trees
could grow in such a soil. Then they began to
contrast the appearance of their pastor's garden
with their own ; and then they came to him in
crowds, begging that he would be kind enough to
instruct them how to grow trees for themselves.
The object he sought was accomplished. Accord-
ing to his accustomed mode, he first directed
their thoughts to Him " who causeth the earth to
bring forth her bud, and who crowneth the year
with his goodness," and then gave them the
desired information. To aid them he gave them
a supply of young trees from his nursery, and in-
structed them in the art of grafting. The conse-
quence was, that in a little time the whole district
changed its aspect : the bare and desolate-looking
cottages were speedily surrounded by neat little
gardens ; and, instead of the indigence and misery
which formerly characterized the villagers and their
dwellings, they now put on the garb of rural beauty
and happiness. So rapid were the advances which
the people made under his direction, that, in 1778,
Oberlin formed an Agricultural Society, which he
connected with the central society at Strasburg.
By doing so, he secured the use of the society's
publications and periodicals, and received its assist-
ance in the distribution of the prizes, which were
annually awarded to the peasants who distinguished

OBEIILIX, THE PASTOK. 183

themselves in the grafting and culture of fruit-trees,
and in rearing or improving the breed of cattle.
The Strasburg Society, as a testimony of its sense
of the advantages which Oberlin's labors had be-
stowed upon the people, placed two hundred francs
at his disposal, to be distributed among such agri-
culturists as he might deem worthy of a prize. He
soon began to reap the fruit of his toil. Every-
where around him civilization and the power of the
Gospel made themselves manifest. "With the im-
provement of their physical condition, their moral
advancement went hand in hand, till, at length, in
the district around, and in the towns and cities of
the basin of the Rhine, few things awakened more
astonishment, or attracted so much attention, as
the remarkable change which had taken place in
the people, and the no less remarkable character of
the pastor of the Ban de la Roche.

To Oberlin belongs the merit of being the
founder of Infant Schools ; a fact which justly en-
titles him to the gratitude of mankind. When lie
took the cure of the Ban in 1767, there was but
one schoolhouse in the five villages, and that was
a hut erected by Pastor Stouber, which then was
in a ruinous state. He called the parishioners to-
gether, and proposed that they should either build
a new one or repair the hut. They gave a decided
negative to his proposition, nor would they again
listen to him on the subject, until he engaged that
no part of the expense should fall on the funds of
the parish. His income, arising from his salary

184 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN".

as pastor, and his little property, did not amount
to more than about forty pounds a-year; never-
theless, he gave the required promise, and the
schoolhouse was built. " Why should I hesitate
in this matter ? " said he ; "I seek only the glory
of God, and therefore I have confidence that He
will grant me what I desire. If we ask in faith,
and it be really right that the thing should take
place, our prayer is certain to be granted. When,
indeed, are our plans more likely to be successful
than when we enter upon them in humble and
simple dependence upon God, whose blessing
alone can cause tKem to succeed ? " Thus Ober-
lin reasoned, and time proved that he reasoned
aright. God did* grant his prayer. His fast
friends at Strasburg, who watched his progress
with anxiety, came to his help; and further, in
the course of a few years the inhabitants in the
other four villages voluntarily proposed that a
school should be built in each, of which they
would cheerfully bear all the expense ! And so
they did. The young are the hope of the world.
The men and women of the next generation will
be what the children of the present are. The
future is only the development of the present;
" the child is father to the man." Oberlin direct-
ed all his energies to the instruction of the young
of his flock. The habits of the adults might be
modified, but not eradicated. The men were as
ignorant of the commonest mechanical arts as
their wives were of domestic economy or home

OBERLIX, THE PASTOB. 185

comfort. They had passed their learning time.
Not so, however, with their children. So Ober-
lin selected the most promising, and sent them to
Strasburg, to acquire the trades of mason, car-
penter, glazier, wheelwright, and blacksmith.
When they returned to the Ban, they became the
instructors of others. Their earnings increased
the little treasuries of the district, while their skill
accelerated its improvements.

The schools which Avere erected were devoted
to the use of children from the age of ten to
seventeen. The shepherd-masters who formerly
played the "dominie" were cashiered, and the
most respectable of the inhabitants were prevail-
ed upon to take their places under the imposing
title of " regents." The plans of instruction were
drawn up, and the " regents" drilled in the science
of education by Oberlin. While the schools were
working well under his careful superintendence,
he noticed that the infant children were almost
wholly neglected by their parents, and were there-
fore forming habits which in after years would
increase the task of the schoolmaster, if not alto-
gether nullify his labor. His active mind at onco
devised a remedy for the evil. The result was a
plan for the establishment of Infant Schools — the
first of the kind ever known. Experience of his
own family and keen observation in the families of
others, led him to the conclusion that children
begin to learn even in the cradle ; that at the
earliest age they are capable of being taught tho

186 MEN WHO HAVE KISEIST.

difference between right and wrong ; and are
easily trained to habits of obedience and industry.
His beloved and intelligent wife entered heart and
soul into his views. The most pious and intelli-
gent females of the community were induced to
take charge of the schools. For their use, Ober-
lin rented a large room in each village, and out of
his own pocket paid the salaries. The instruction
given to the little ones was mingled with amuse-
ment, and habits of attention and subordination
were formed, while information of the most valu-
able kind was communicated in a manner which
rendered it attractive to the infant mind. The
songs of " dear mamma " had left too deep and
hallowed an influence upon Oberlin's mind to
cause him to overlook the value of music in the
instruction of youth. Singing was taught in all
the schools. At a proper age the children were
transferred to the public schools, prepared, by the
progress which they had made, to enjoy the ad.
vantages which were there afforded to them. In
addition to reading, writing, arithmetic, and geog-
raphy, they were carefully instructed in the prin-
ciples of agriculture and other industrial arts, in
sacred and uninspired history, and in astronomy.
Their religious cultivation was a task which Ober-
lin considered his own, and faithfully did he fulfill it.
With the view of encouraging the spirit of emu-
lation between the several schools, and to improve
the modes of instruction pursued by the various
masters, a weekly meeting of all the scholars was

OBERLLN", THE PASTOE. 187

held at Waldbach. By this the machinery of the
whole was kept bright and in good working order.
The master and the pupils were stimulated, know-
ing that the wreekly meeting would bring disgrace
to the idle, but to the industrious and good public
commendation, and the approval of " dear papa,"
as Oberlin wras called by his people. In addition
to this weekly examination, on every Sabbath, at
each village church in rotation, the children assem-
bled to sing the hymns and to repeat the passages
of Scripture which they had learned during the
week. At the close he usually gave them an
address ; and superlatively happy was the child or
young person who was fortunate enough to merit
the approving smile of " dear papa."

His benevolent efforts were well seconded by
the Christians of Strasburg. They sent him several
sums of money, all of which were devoted by him
to the public use. A printing-press was added to
the resources of the Ban. This enabled him to print
several books which he composed and compiled for
the exclusive use of the schools and his parishioners,
and to award prizes both to the teachers and pupils.
He also made a collection of indigenous plants,
and procured an electrical machine, and several
other philosophical instruments ; various works on
natural history and general science were circulated
on the " book society " plan, each village retaining
them for three months, care being taken that every
house, according to the number of the family, pos-
sessed them for a definite time. Every individual

188 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

was impressed with the conviction that it was a
first duty, as well as a great privilege, to promote
the glory of God and the welfare of mankind.
Every work which was undertaken of a public or
private nature was discharged, each one bearing
in mind his responsibility to promote the prosper-
ity of all, by " provoking his neighbor to love and
to good works." Thus the Ban was changed.
Where ignorance and its never-failing attendants,
cruelty, vice, poverty, reigned supreme, piety in-
telligence, meekness, and plenty, held triumphant
sway.

All that knew him loved him. His worth was
acknowledged not only by those who were near,
but by those who were far off. Louis XVIII.
sent him the ribbon of the Legion of Honor, and
the royal agricultural society of France voted him
a gold medal. When Count Fran9ois de ISTeuf-
chateau proposed this vote, he said, " If you
would behold an instance of what may be effected
in any country for the advancement of agriculture
and the interests of humanity, friends of the plough
and of human happiness, ascend the Yosges Moun-
tains, and behold the Ban de la Roche ! " At the
time of the foundation of the British and Foreign
Bible Society, his fame had spread into Britain ;
and one of the first grants made by the Society was
to pastor Oberlin for the inhabitants of the Ban.

Oberlin's heaviest trial, though not his first, was
the loss of his wife. She died in January, 1784,
in the sixteenth year of their unioi\. She departed

OBEKLIX, THE PASTOE. 189

almost suddenly, leaving him seven, out of nine,
children, the youngest being only about ten weeks
old. Nothing could be more characteristic than
his conduct on this distressing occasion. Her
death was wholly unlooked-for. When the intel-
ligence was brought to him, he was stunned, and
remained for some time in silence, quite incapable
of giving utterance to his feelings. He then fell
on his knees and returned " thanks to God that
his beloved partner was now beyond the reach or
need of prayer, and that her heavenly Father had
crowned the abundance of His mercies towards
her, by giving her so easy a departure." At their
marriage they had prayed that they might always
have death before their eyes, and always be pre-
pared for it ; and " if it be a thing," they added,
" which we may ask of Thee, oh ! grant that we be
not long separated one from another, but that the
death of one may speedily, very speedily, follow
that of the other." From the period of his wife's
death a deepened seriousness was observable in his
conversation and deportment. He was grave, not
gloomy. A word of repining or murmuring never
escaped his lips. It was the Lord's doing, and it
was right. About six months after he had laid
her in the grave, he composed an address to his
parishioners, and laid it aside, to be delivered to
hem after his decease, as his last charge. In this
document he briefly states when and where he was
born, when he took charge of the Ban, the time of
his marriage, tfye number of his children, " two of

190 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

whom," he said, " have already entered paradise,
and seven remain in this world ;" he also names
the day and the circumstances in which his wife
died.

" Upon this occasion," he goes on to say, " as
upon a thousand others in the course of my life,
notwithstanding my overwhelming affliction, I was
upheld by God's gracious assistance in a very re-
markable manner. I have had all my life a desire,
occasionally a very strong one, to die, owing in
some measure to the consciousness of my moral
infirmities and of my frequent derelictions. My
affection for my wife and children, and my attach-
ment to my parish, have sometimes checked this
desire, though for short intervals only. I had,
about a year since, some presentiment of my ap-
proaching end. I did not pay much attention to
it at the time ; but, since the death of my wife, I
have received unequivocal warnings of the same
nature. Millions of times have I besought God to
enable me to surrender myself with entire and
filial submission to his will, either to live or die,
and to bring me into such a state of resignation as
neither to wish, nor to say, nor to do, nor to under-
take anything, but what He, who only is wise and
good, sees to be best. Having had such frequent
intimations of my approaching end, I have ar-
ranged all my affairs as far as I am able, in order
to prevent confusion after my death. For my
dear children I fear nothing; but as I always
greatly preferred being useful to others to giving

OBERLIN, THE PASTOE. 191

them trouble, I suffer much from' the idea that
they may occasion sorrow or anxiety to the friends
who take charge of them. May God abundantly
reward them for it ! With regard to my children
themselves I have no anxiety ; for I have had such
frequent experience of the mercy of God towards
myself, and place such full reliance upon his good-
ness, his wisdom, and his love, as to render it im-
possible for me to be at all solicitous about them.
Their mother was at a very early age deprived of
her parents ; but she was, notwithstanding, a better
Christian than thousands who have enjoyed the
advantages of parental instruction. Besides, I
know that God hears our prayers ; and ever since
the birth of our children, neither their mother nor
I have ceased to supplicate him to make them
faithful followers of Jesus Christ, and laborers in
his vineyard. And thou, O my dear parish !
neither will God forsake thee. He has towards
thee, as I have often said, thoughts of peace and
mercy. All things will go well with thee; only
cleave thou to him, and leave him to act. Oh!
mayest thou forget my n&me, and retain only that
of Jesus Christ, whom I have proclaimed to thee.
lie is thy pastor ; I am but his servant. He is
that good Master who, after having trained and
prepared me from my youth, sent me to thee that
I might be useful. He alone is wise, good, al-
mighty, and merciful ; and as for me, I am but a
poor, feeble, wretched man." . . . This touching
document concludes thus : " O, my God ! let thine

192 MEN WHO HATE RISEN.

eye watch over my dear parishioners ; let thine ear
be open to hear them ; thine arm be extended to
succor and protect them ! Lord Jesus, thou
hast intrusted this parish to my care, feeble and
miserable as I am ; oh ! suffer me to commend
it to thee — to resign it into thy hands. Give
it pastors after thine own heart ; never forsake
it; overrule ah1 things for its good! Enlighten
them, guide them, love them, bless them all ; and
grant that the young and old, the teachers and the
taught, pastors and parishioners, may all, in due
time, meet together in thy paradise! Even
so, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit ! Even so.
Amen !"

Forty-two years after this parting address was
written, it was found among his papers, and was
read in the churchyard to his assembled people,
before his body was lowered down into the grave.
Those forty-two years were spent, like those that
preceded them, in unremitting attention to the
instruction of his flock. The death of his sons,
which took place when they had attained the age
of manhood, seemed only to quicken his diligence,
and to deepen his solicitude respecting the eternal
welfare of his charge. The apostolic injunction
came with power to his heart — he was " instant in
season and out of season," and always " fervent in
spirit." He did not content himself with preach-
ing publicly, but paid pastoral visits to every
cottage in his large parish, and conversed with
the people upon their spiritual condition, and

OBERLIN, THE PASTOR. 193

upon the various efforts which were made by
benevolent individuals to diffuse religious know-
ledge throughout the world. On every Friday
he conducted a service in German, for the benefit
of about two hundred persons in the Ban, to
whom that language was more familiar than the
French. At his Friday evening service he used
to lay aside all form, and the now silvery-headed
old man seemed more like a father surrounded by
his children than the minister of an extensive dis-
trict. At those meetings, in order that no time
might be lost, he used to make his female hearers
knit stockings for their poorer neighbors, not for
themselves ; it was a work of charity, he said, and
needed not to either distract their attention or to
diminish their devotion. When he had for some
time read and expounded the Bible to them, he
would often say, " Well, children, are you not
tired ? Have you had enough ?" If they said,
" Enough for one time," he would leave off; but
the more frequent reply was, " JSTo, dear papa, go
on ; we should like to hear a little more ! " His
discourses for the Sabbath were carefully prepared.
In them he preserved a colloquial plainness, scru-
pulously avoiding the use of words or phrases
which were not level to the apprehension of his
hearers. He drew largely upon natural history,
with which his people were well acquainted, for
illustration; and he frequently introduced bio-
graphical anecdotes of persons who were eminent
for piety or benevolence.
13

194: MEN WHO IIAYE KISEST.

The close of his earthly career was, like that of
a summer day, calm and peaceful. His was a
green old age, the snows of time, although they
rested upon his head, sent no chill into the warm
affections of his heart. In the latter part of his
life, the increasing infirmities of age prevented
him from occupying himself, as he was wont, in
the discharge of his pastoral duty. If he could
not visit nor preach to his flock, he could pray for
them. The sand was now low in the glass. The
last grain ran out on the morning of the 1st of
June, 1826, when he was in the eighty-sixth year
of his age. The illness which preceded his de-
parture continued for four days. On the morning
of the first of June, at six o'clock, his pain abated.
His children were grouped around his bed, and at
intervals he clasped their hands arid pressed them
to his heart. His limbs soon became cold and
lifeless, and he lost the use of his speech. His
last act was to take off his cap, and to join his
hands as in prayer, and to raise his eyes toward
heaven ; his countenance as he did so, beaming
with joy and love. He closed his eyes never to
open them again until the day of the resurrection.
About eleven o'clock, the toll of the passing-bell
informed the inhabitants of the valley that he who
had watched over them for nearly sixty years
would watch no more.

Four days afterwards he was buried. During
the interval which elapsed between his decease
and the simple and affecting ceremony which con-

OBEKLIX, TIIE PASTOE. 195

signed his remains to the grave, heavy clouds
rested on the surrounding mountains, and the
rain poured down in incessant torrents. Nature
seemed to sympathise with the feelings which
swelled the hearts of his people, and which bowed
their souls with the sineerest sorrow. Oberlin's
remains were placed in a coffin with a glass lid,
and laid in his study, where, despite of the in-
clemency of the weather, the inhabitants of the
Ban and of the surrounding districts (of ah1 ages,
conditions, and religious denominations) congre-
gated to take a farewell look at his beloved face.

Early in the morning of the day fixed for the
interment, the clouds cleared away and the sun
shone with its wonted brilliancy. As the pro-
cession left the house, the president of the consis-
tory of Bai-r placed Oberlin's clerical robes upon
the coffin, the vice-president of the consistory
placed his Bible upon it, and the mayor affixed
the decoration of the Legion of Honor to the
funeral pall. At the conclusion of this ceremony,
ten or twelve young females, who had been stand-
ing round the bier, sung a hymn, and at t^vo
o'clock the procession began to move, the coffin
being borne by the mayors, elders, and official
magistrates of the Ban and of the neighboring
communes.

The region round about seemed to have sent
forth all its inhabitants, so great was the concourse
which assembled. The interment took place at
Foudai, two miles distant from Oberlin's house,

196 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN".

but the foremost of the funeral train had reached
the churchyard before the last had left the par-
sonage ! The children and youths of the differ-
ent schools formed part of the melancholy pro-
cession, chanting at intervals sacred hymns, se-
lected and adapted to the occasion. When they
approached Foudai, a new bell, which had been
presented in commemoration of this day of sor-
row, was heard to toll for the first time, and to
mingle its melancholy sound with the bells of the
valley. The burying-ground was surrounded by
Roman Catholic women, ah1 dressed in deep
mourning, and kneeling in silent prayer. On
arriving at the church, the coffin was placed at
the foot of the communion-table, and as many
persons entered as the little place would contain,
the great multitude having to remain in the
churchyard and the adjoining lanes. Notwith-
standing the presence of so great a number of
persons, the utmost order and solemnity prevailed.
Several persons, who could find room nowhere
else, sat down on the steps beside the coffin, as if
anxious to cling to the ashes of one whom they
loved so well. Many distinguished persons were
present, and several Roman Catholic priests,
dressed in their canonicals, sat among the mem-
bers of the consistory. At the conclusion of the
president's address, a hymn was sung, and the
coffin borne to the grave, which is on one side of
the little church, beneath a weeping willow that
shades the tomb of his son Henry. Here, amidst

OBERLTX, TIIE PASTOR. 197

the tears of the assembled thousands, the earth
was heaped upon the house of clay which once
contained the spirit of John Frederic Oberlin, the
world's benefactor, while the humble and Christ-
like pastor of the Ban de la Roche.

Reader, do you wish to die as he died ? If so,
live as he lived ; and your memory, like his, will
be green and fragrant throughout all ages.

ELIHU BUBKITT, THE LINGUIST.

ELIHU BUKKITT was born at New Britain, Con-
necticut, on the llth of December, 1811. He
was the son of a shoemaker, who reared a family
of five children in the fear of God and love of
virtue. During Elihu's boyhood, he assisted his
father with the lap-stone ; about four months of
every year he enjoyed the privilege of attending
the district school, but the remainder of his time
was required as a contribution to the general laboi
necessary for the support of the family. Elihu
lost his father when at the age of sixteen. It now
became necessary for him to strike out a path for
himself; he determined to learn the blacksmith's
trade ; and, entering into the necessary arrange-
ments, he apprenticed himself to a blacksmith,
with whom he remained until he was twenty-one
years of age.

At a very early age Elihu evinced an extraordi-
nary thirst for knowledge. He read everything
upon which he could lay his hands. When he

ELIHO BUIiRITT, THE LINGUIST. 199

entered upon his apprenticeship he was familiar
with the Bible, the history of the Revolutionary
War, and had the advantage of a few desultory
volumes. But he now had access to the town
library, which he availed himself of with so much
assiduity, that in a brief period he had exhausted
every book of history upon its shelves. He next
turned to poetry. This kind of reading he was
very fond of; he perused Thomson's Seasons,
Young's Night Thoughts, Pollock's Course of
Time, Shakespeare and Milton. But his passion
for reading did not retard his advancement in his
trade ; he became a first-rate blacksmith, as well
as an earnest scholar. Having exhausted the
library and mastered his trade, he now became
animated with a desire to obtain access to those
authors who were beyond his reach. Scholarship
became his pastime. His indentures having ter-
minated, he placed himself under the tuition of
his brother, a lawyer and a man of education.
This gentleman enabled him to pursue the study
of mathematics ; he also took up Latin and French.
Employing his winter this way, in the spring he
returned to his forge, and, in order to make up for
lost time and supply himself with the means of
pursuing his studies, he undertook to do the work
of two men, laboring hard at the anvil for over
fourteen hours a day.

"After he could read French with pleasure,"
says the Reverend R. W. Bailey, to whom we are
iudebted for the materials of this sketch, "he took

200 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

up Spanish. After reading the Spanish with ease
he commenced the Greek, carrying his grammar in
his hat while he worked, and studying at the anvil
and the forge. He pursued this course until the
fall of the year (1833.) He then made his ar-
rangements to devote himself to study for another
winter. He went to New Haven, not so much, as
he said, to find a teacher, as under the conviction
that there was the proper place to study. As soon
as he arrived he sat down to the reading of Ho-
mer's Iliad alone, without notes, or translation, or
any other help. At the close of the first day,
after intense application, he had read fifteen lines,
much to his own satisfaction. After this success-
ful effort, he determined to go on without a
teacher ; he accordingly made a systematic dis-
tribution of his time and studies. He rose at four,
and studied German until breakfast, then studied
Greek until noon, then spent an hour at Italian.
In the afternoon he studied Greek until night, and
then studied Spanish until bed-time. This course
he continued until he could read two hundred
lines a day of Homer, besides carrying forward
the other studies in their order. During the win-
ter he read twenty books of Homer's Iliad, be-
sides studying with equal success the other
languages in the hours assigned to them."

In the Spring he accepted an invitation to teach
a grammar-school. In this situation he remained
for a year; he then acted as agent for a manu-
facturing company, and traveled extensively

ELIHU BILKRITT, THE LINGUIST. 20l

through the country. During this period his studies
were nearly entirely interrupted. He returned to
the anvil once more, and resumed his studies with
fresh enthusiasm. He soon became proficient in
the ancient and European languages, and turned
his attention to the Oriental tongues. The means
for acquiring these were limited. He determined
to enlist as a sailor, that he might travel to places
more available for this purpose. He proceeded to
Boston and endeavored to obtain a ship. He was
unsuccessful ; but while in that city he heard of the
American Antiquarian Society at Worcester. He
proceeded there at once, and found, as he says,
such a collection of books on ancient, modern, and
Oriental languages as he never before conceived to
be collected together in one place. The use of
this library was at once tendered him ; he made
arrangements to study three hours a day, and work
at the anvil for his support at other times. In this
manner he pursued the study of the most difficult
of the languages, and advanced with such marvel-
ous rapidity that before he left Worcester he was
able to read Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Gaelic, Eng-
lish, Welsh, Irish, Celtic, French, Spanish, Portu-
guese, Italian, German, Flemish, Saxon, Gothic,
Icelandic, Polish, Bohemian, Russian, Sclavonic,
Armenian, Turkish, Chaldaic, Syriac, Samaritan,
Arabic, Ethiopia, Indian, Sanscrit, and Tamul.

Mr. Bailey publishes an interesting account of a
visit to Mr. Burritt's smithy. " On my first ar-
9*

202 . MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

rival at Worcester, I proceeded directly from the
cars to inquire out Mr. Burritt. After two or
three directions, I arrived at an extensive iron
foundry. In a long line of workshops I was
directed to that in which Mr. Burritt was em-
ployed. I entered, and, seeing several forges,
sought for the object of my visit. 'He has just
left, and is probably in his study,' said a son of
Vulcan, resting his hammer on his shoulder mean-
while ; ' there is his forge,' pointing to one that
was silent. I had but a moment to study it. Its
entire structure and apparatus resembled ordinary
forges, except that it was neater and in better
order. Mr. Burritt is a bachelor and a journey-
man, and earns a shilling an hour by contract with
the proprietor of this foundry. He lives and fur-
nishes himself with books by this laborious appli-
cation to his trade. Seeing on his table what ap-
peared to be a diary, I read as follows : ' August
18. Forged 16 hours — read Celtic 3 hours — trans-
lated 2 pages of Icelandic, and three pages of
German.' This was a single item of similar records
which run through the book. To abate my sur-
prise, he told me that this was a correct memoran-
dum of the labors of every day ; but the sixteen
hours of labor was that which he performed in a
job, and for which he was paid by the estimate of
its value, but that he performed it in eight hours,
thus gaining both time and money by double labor.
Eight hours a day is his ordinary habit of labor at

ELIIIU BUKEITT, THE LINGUIST. 203

the forge." The same writer describes Mr. Bur-
ritt (1843) as a person of middle stature, rather
slender proportions, high, receding forehead,
deeply set, steady, grayish eye, thin visage, fail-
complexion, thin, compressed upper lip, a hectic
glow, and hair bordering on the brown or auburn.

In 1844 Mr. Burritt commenced the publication
of a newspaper called the " Christian Citizen," and
from that time has been largely known for his ad-
vocacy of peace doctrines — views which he has
disseminated with enthusiasm. He is also an ad-
vocate of an ocean penny postage, in the further-
ance of which he has visited Europe, and delivered
popular lectures in several of the principal cities.
Mr. Burritt's literary productions include, mainly,
"Sparks from the Anvil," "A Voice from the
Forge," and Peace Papers for the People." He
has also printed some translations from the north-
ern classics.

" Mr. Burritt furnishes a remarkable instance of
what may be accomplished by perseverence in spite
of the most unfavorable circumstances. A forge,
of all places in the world, would seem the least
favorable for the prosecution of studies demanding
an unusual concentration of mind ; yet, by a con-
tented exercise of the will, Mr. Burritt was deaf
to the tumult which surrounded him, and was
able to accomplish an amount of study which
places him in the front rank of great scholars.
The other phase of his character, in which he has
manifested decided originality and philanthropy,

204: MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

will be better appreciated when the beneficence of
his efforts are reviewed by the historian. In every
respect Mr. Burritt is great and noble, and his
name will descend to future generations as a brigh*
example of a self-made man."

WILHELM, THE KNTFE-GKINDEB.

" KNIVES to grind !" cried Wilhelm, as he limped
through the streets of Brussels, driving his old
crazy machine before him. " Knives and scissors
to grind !" Wilhelm did not limit his trade to the
grinding of knives and scissors exclusively ; he
would not refuse to put an edge upon a butcher's
cleaver, and he was even very thankful to obtain
a hatchet to reduce to chopping acuteness, but he
only cried " Knives and scissors to grind," as has
been the custom of itinerant cutlers since the days
of Cataline. Wilhelm drove his machine before
him very slowly, and he perhaps required to do
so, as it was rather fragile in its constitution ; but
he called "Knives to grind" with a lusty, cheer-
ful, happy voice, that seemed to belie his own
constitution ; for he, too, like his precursor com-
bination of beams, and stones, and wheels, was
none of the most robust of creation's works. He
was a little, ragged, lame, and feeble Fleming,
with an old and woll-worn grinding wheel as his

206 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

only property ; and anybody particular in affinities
would have said they were made for each other.

AVilhelni's face would have been notified merely
as " a face," by a passer by. Any one would have
been satisfied at a glance that it was deficient in
none of the constituent parts of the human visage ;
but the thought of whether it was beautiful or
ugly would never have intruded itself amongst
his impressions. His large, old, broad-brimnied
hat was slouched over his back and shoulders, and
threw a deep shade upon his brow ; and then,
again, his thick black hair clung in large curls
down his pale cheeks, and also partly obscured his
features ; so that Wilhelm's countenance was not
put forward to advantage like those of the bucks
who promenaded the Boulevards, and therefore it
might be full of hidden beauties for aught the
world knew. His well-patched blouse hung loosely
round his spare form, investing it with even more
than its own due proportion of apparent robust-
ness; but poverty's universal and palpable mantle
hung over him all, with a truthful tell-tale earnest-
ness of whose reality there could be no mistake.
In this guise Wilhelm limped along, then, crying
out for customers, and looking sharply about him
for the same. He would turn his glancing eyes to
the high windows of the quaint wooden-fronted
houses, from which pretty damsels were looking
into the street, and then he would look earnestly
at the portly merchants who leant lazily over their
half doors; but, though neither dame nor burgber

WILHELM, THE KtflFE-GKINDEK. 207

would pay any attention to him, Wilhelm would
still jog on and shout as gaily as if he were a wild
bird uttering his accustomed cry.

It was through the lower or Flemish part of the
city that the knife-grinder pursued his slow and de-
vious course, and either mantua-making and knife-
using were at a discount, or all these utensils had
been in good repair in that quarter, for poor Wil-
helm had little, save the echo of his own cry from
the throat of some precocious urchin, for his pains.

Up one street went Wilhelm, and down another.
He often rested in front of the great Church of St.
Gudule, and looked admiringly at its architecture,
for he had a strong love for the beautiful, although
he Avas only a knife-grinder; and sometimes he
would seat himself upon the handle of his machine,
in order to contemplate the outward grandeur of
the Hotel de Ville ; but if any one had supposed
that there was one envious thought in all his con-
templations, he did the knife-grinder injustice, for
no envy had he, poor though he was.

To those who knew all about Wilhelm, there
was nothing more incomprehensible in the world
than his lightness of heart. That he should sing
was one of the most startling of anomalies — he,
whose father, the fireman, perished in trying to
rescue his own wife and Wilhelm's mother from
the flames of his burning home. It was often said
by those who saw the knife-grinder's ever-cheerful
aspect, that he might think of his father and mo-
ther, and if nothing else could remind him of them,

208 MEN WHO HAVE EISKN".

surely Iris own lameness might ; for it was upon
the night when they perished that he was afflicted,
and yet he didn't seem to think so.

Wilhelm's life was a lonely enough one, without-
adding to it the pains and penalties of a morbid
melancholy ; but some folks didn't think so, and
would have had him forever sad as well as lonely.
It was acknowledged that Wilhelm was a wonder-
ful lad, however ; and as this phrase is capable of
a multiplicity of explications, ijb may be as well to
state that he had refused all oifers of a pecuniary
nature from anybody whatever, had established
himself in a little dwelling, and supported himself
by his grinding-machine, and this is wrhy he was
termed wonderful. If it had been possible to look
into the bosom of the knife-grinder, there would
have been seen throbbing there, and sending
through every channel of his frame a current of
boundless love, a heart as rich and pure as ever
bosom bore. It was a wonderful heart, too ; for
it was stout and strong, and bore up as if it had
been a giant's sent to animate a weakling. There
was no flinching in its courage, no drooping in its
joyous mood, no change in its loving pulsations
from morn to night as he plodded up one narrow
street, down another, through crossings and
squares, and courts, and by-ways. Wilhelm the
knife-grinder's heart was a hero's ; and let who
will say otherwise, we will maintain, with tongue
and pen, that it was, and of the proudest order, too
It is easy, it is natural for hearts to maintain their

WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GJRINDEB. 209

beauty and their .goodness in those sunny spots of
the world to which love and beauty are indigenous.
By cheerful hearths, where, in the ruddy glow of
the log, and in the bright flame, you picture golden
gardens, and caverns, and groves, or behold the
brightly lighted faces of childhood, how can the
heart wither or grow sad ? In the duality of love
resides its natural life. Heart answering heart,
bright eye enlightening eye, kind words echoing
back love's gentle aspirations — these maintain the
eternal spring of the affections, as sunlight and
heat give to the earth her summer. If Wilhelm
had resided in the Park where the nobility and
English dwelt, or in the great Sablon Square
among the merchants and savans, it would have
been easy for one so constituted to have been
happy and gay ; but to maintain a vital relation
to bright and glorious heaven, amidst the darkness
and gloom of a lonely little room in the dingiest
spot of the low town of Brussels, was heroism, let
the world say as it will.

u Oh, have pity, and give the poor little home-
less one a mite ! " said a soft and gentle voice — so
soft and gentle that the words might have been
with propriety addressed direct to Heaven, as well
as in the ear of one of Heaven's humblest agents
upon earth, Wilhelm the knife-grinder.

It was in a dark and wretched quarter of the

town where he was thus accosted, a spot whose

gloom the shade of evening scarcely deepened ;

black walls, grim with the smoke of ages and

14

210 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

crumbling to ruin, rose on either hand, and, con-
verging at the top, seemed agreed to meet and
exclude the blue heavens and sunbeams. Little
windows, dirty, dingy, broken, and rag-patched,
told that these high walls were the walls of homes,
and the faces of human beings, peeping now and
again from them, were the indices of immured life
and thought. Yet, even in that lofty series of
chambers, where humility scarcely could brook to
live, the little outcast, who had breathed her pite-
ous accents to Wilhelm, had no spot to lay her
head.

" One little farthing to buy a roll to poor Lelie,"
pursued the child, in tremulous tones ; " oh, I am
hungry !" and she laid her hand on that of Wil-
helm, and looked up in his face.

The knife-grinder's machine dropped from his
hands as if he had been suddenly struck, and he
turned towards the suppliant with so benign a
look that the child smiled in his face and crouched
nearer to his person.

"Poor Lelie," said Wilhelm, descimating his
fortune and presenting the tithe to the infant, " art
thou hungry?"

"Yes; and cold, and sad," said the child, art-
lessly; "I have no father nor mother, nor any-
body to care for me ; I am a beggar and an out-
cast."

The knife-grinder held in his breath, as he bent
to listen to the words of Lelie, and when she had
done he caught her hand, stretched himself proudly

WILHELM, TIIE KNIFE-GRINDER. 211

up, and breathed long and freely, while his eyes
became radiant and his face illumined with a sud-
den and noble purpose.

" Alone, like me," exclaimed the knife-grinder ;
<4 poor child ! Oh ! is there another even more
destitute of all the reciprocities of love than lame
Wilhelm ?" and he turned his kindly face towards
the little girl ; " I could sit at my lone fire at night
when the world around me slept, and I could hold
communion with my parents' spirits in silent peace
and joy ; but Lelie, what will night be to her but
houseless horror. I am a man," pursued Wilhelm,
again stretching himself and striving to look
strong; "lam independent," and he shook the
coppers in his pocket ; " can I not snatch this
child from sorrow and hunger? Jan Roos the
water-carrier keeps a great dog, which I am sure
will eat more food than Lelie — why not keep a
child as well as a dog ? " The spirit within the
knife-grinder seemed to say, why not? and the
spirit of the outcast child seemed to know it, for
Lelie crouched still closer to Wilhelm, and looked
up in his face as if she knew him. " And does no
one care for you, Lelie ? " said the poor lame
youth, softly ; " is there no one to love you ? "

" None but the Father who dwells beyond the
stars with good angels," said the child, timidly.

"Then thou shalt go with me for His Son's
sake," said Wilhelm, snatching her up in his arms
and kissing her pale, thin cheek, as lovingly and
rapturously as if it had bloomed in health and

212 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

beauty. " Thou shalt go with me, and I will love
thee and take care of thee, and thou shalt grow
up to be a woman, and I will be to thee as a
father. Sit there, Lelie, and hold on firmly ; my
machine is not very strong, but it will bear thee.
I am not so brave and stout as the sentinels at the
castle gate, but I will be weaker if I cannot carry
thee home ; so here we go ; " and, with a heart
overflowing with feelings which he had never
known before, and his eyes dancing with a pleasure
which surpassed all former emotions, he limped on
with his crazy wheel and smiling child, the proud-
est man that night in Brussels.

"Here we are," cried Wilhelm, as he hurled
Lelie into the dark passage of his home, opened
his door, and, lifting her gently down, placed her
upon his cold hearth-stone. "It won't be cold
long," cried he, laughing cheerily, as he struck a
light and applied it to the wood from the forest of
Soignies, which filled his grate. " It isn't a palace
this, Lelie ; but if you are not as happy as a little
queen, it shall be no fault of mine. Come, let me
wash thy face and hands with this sweet water
from the Seine, and eat thou of this brown
bread."

After ministering in every possible way to the
comfort of his protege, Wilhelm sat him down,
and looked upon her with eyes that sparkled in
the light of his crackling logs. A strange elevat-
ing sensation stole over his spirit — a sense of dig-
nity and power that he had never known in his

WILHELM, THE KNTFE-GKIKDEE. 213

loneliness. Was it not a direct radiation from
heaven which exalted the soul of this poor man,
with an inward cognizance of paternity ? " My
child," muttered Wilhelm, with a sweet smile;
" mine ! — I now have something to care for ;
something that will learn to care for me. Jan
Roos's dog loves him, I know, and would fight
for him ; but his dog is but a brute. This young
Lelie was sent from heaven, fresh, rosy, and glow-
ing with a celestial nature, and then misfortune
blighted her, to render her a fit companion for the
heart-lone Wilhelm Voss."

Everybody wondered to see how clean and neat
Wilhelm the knife-grinder became all at once.
He felt that it was necessary to give Lelie a good
example in all things, and so he kept his blouse as
clean as if every day were Sunday. A change
came over the aspect of his home, too ; he became
particular with regard to scrubbing his floor, and
burnishing his two little cooking pans, and
arranging his crockery ; and when he took Lelie
to school, and paid a weekly instalment of what
he intended to pay for her education, she and he
were so trig and neat that the teacher said he
was glad to see a brother have such care over his
sister.

Wilhelm became filled by degrees with a sense
of home and an assurance of love. When he was
abroad, his thoughts were dancing in the flames of
his own beaming hearth, and smiling in the face
of pretty, blooming Lelie, In every penny he

214: MEN WHO HAYE EISKN".

earned, he recognized her share ; in every step he
took at nightfall towards his dwelling, amongst
his anticipations of peace, rest, and comfort, her
face was seen smiling him on, and her hands
were seen spreading his board. Wilhelm's for-
tunes began to mend as the little girl began to
grow up. He could not account for it unless as n
gracious dispensation of that Great Ruler of good,
who sent a double share of work to him for Lelie's
sake. But work came to him now, when he didn't
call out for it ; and as he was respectable, and
could go with his new machine to the Park, it
was astonishing how much money he would carry
home in the evenings. Nobody would have be-
lieved that the Wilhelm Yoss who had his name
painted jauntily on a board in front of his machine,
and wore a smart blouse and beaver, was the same
lame Wilhelm who bore home the little foundling
five years previously. His cheeks were clean and
ruddy, and his bright black eyes were scarcely
brighter than his well-combed locks ; and the
cookmaids who brought him knives to grind often
declared that his face was very handsome ; and,
blessings on their woman's hearts, they pitied him
that he was lame, and you would have thought
that they blunted the knives on purpose, so reg-
ularly did they bring them to Wilhelm to sharp.

Little Lelie grew up as tall and straight as a
poplar, and as beautiful as any orange-tree in the
royal conservatory of Brussels ; and how pleasant
to Wi'.helm to watch her growth and opening

WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GRINDER. 215

loveliness ; but he could hardly define the happi-
ness that thrilled him, when the truth dawned
upon his observant spirit that she was like unto
him in her ways. Every little delicate kindness
that ever this lame knife-grinder had shown to
tliis poor outcast, she strove by some spiritual
impulse to reciprocate; she loved him with a
strong and passionate earnestess that he knew
not of; and every smile he gave her, every happy
word he spoke, fell on her heart like heavenly
music; and it was because of the refined and
delicate manners which she observed in him, and
which she so assiduously strove to imitate, that
she loved him. Wilhelm had never hinted at the
link which bound him and Lelie together; she
was old enough when he found her to know that
he was no relation of hers ; and she had so dis-
tinct a remembrance of the vice amongst which
she had dwelt, that the gentle words which Wil-
helm constantly spoke, and the little prayers and
hymns which he taught her to repeat, gave her at
first a dim idea of maternal care, and then of
human goodness, which she was constrained to
love and venerate, and to which she had some
indefinite affinity ; but she liad no sense of cha-
rity, no feeling of dependence, for Wilhelm had
consulted her about every little household act,
and had so identified her with himself in ah1 he
said or did, that she, too, had no thought of doing
anything beyond the knowledge of "orr Wil-
helm."

216

MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

Lelie Tvould go out of the afternoons to meet her
modest protector at some appointed place, and the
knife-grinder looked so happy and so brave, and
Lelie looked so beautiful and smiling, that the
great folks began to take notice of the cheerful
pair, and to declare that that knife-grinder and his
pretty sister deserved to be encouraged. And so
Wilhelm was encouraged ; for, when he opened
his cutler shop in the Place de Ville, customers
came pouring on him, and, assuredly, Lelie had a
busy time of it serving them. Dinner sets of
knives and forks for the quiet, calculating dames,
who were queens in their way, for each ruled a
home; long black scalpels for physicians; large
carvers for keepers of cook-shops ; pruners and
hedgebills for agriculturists; and hooks and scythes
for reapers ; together with penknives for students
of law and divinity; these constituted part of the
stock of Wilhelm Yoss, and these were the class
of his ready-money, constant customers.

In twelve years from his finding Lelie, Wilhelm
was a man of standing and importance amongst
the guildry of Brussels. He was esteemed wise,
and good, and rich, which last was, perhaps, the
most important consideration of the whole in the
eyes of some. But he esteemed himself especially
blessed of heaven in Lelie, and she was the chief
of all his earthly treasures. And what a treasure
of grace, and beauty, and affection, had that
young child become ! It was a picture far finer
than any of the paintings in the city gallery, and

WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GRINDER. 21 7

the finest of Flemish paintings were there ; it was
a finer sight than them all to behold Lelie seated
behind the counter of Wilhelm's well-filled shop,
on the fine summer afternoons, when the sunbeams
streamed through the little panes, and fell upon
her fine ruddy cheeks, smooth brown hair, and blue
eyes, as she bent thoughtfully over a book, or
wrought away with her needle. Wilhelm, grown
a thoughtful man, with a dignified air that became
him wonderfully well, would stand and gaze upon
the maiden from his back workshop, and bless her
from his heart ; and then he would wonder if any
one could envy him of this jewel of his home.
Was it envy, or that most selfish of all the pas-
sions, sometimes misnamed love, that prompted
Hitter Van Ostt, the skinner, to come so often to
the shop of Mynheer Voss? He was a great
gallant, Hitter, who was ambitious of illumining
the world ; for, like many other people whose
money had accumulated in their coffers, he, with
great modesty, and, no doubt, truth, felt assured
that his intellect had brightened and expanded
too ; and if there had been an election for pri-
marius of the University of Ghent or Louvain,
and it had been left to Hitter to choose the fittest
person to fill the academical chair, he would not
have required to leave his bed to find such a
person. He came to the shop of Wilhem day
after day, finely done up in velvet and linen, with
his beaver stuck up a little at the side to give it a
rakish air, and his cloak hung carelessly iwon one

218 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

shoulder, in cavalier fashion. He was a very
large specimen of the human frame, and he spoke
very loudly and authoritatively upon everything
and even nothing, and few in Brussels thought
themselves so high and killing as Hitter Van
Ostt.

Brussels is a fine city. There is the Park, with
its fine broad gravel walks, and its old green
shady walnut-trees ; and then there is the Botanic
Garden, with its orange grove as old as the Prince
of Orange himself; and there are galleries, and
museums, and many other sights, all agreeable to
look upon and profitable to contemplate. Hitter
Yan Ostt would ask Lelie Voss to accompany
him to all these places, and Lelie, who had been
at them all already with Wilhelm, would refuse,
and declare that she had sufficiently seen them ;
and then Ritter would appeal to Wilhelm, who,
remembering how happy she had been with him,
would urge her to go for her own sake, but always
in such tones that Lelie would still refuse three
times out of five. And what was it that stirred
Wilhelm Voss when Lelie would reluctantly go
with Ritter? Was it the old sensation of his
poor and lonely years — -his sense of friendlessness
that came back upon him ? It was a strange
vague feeling — a dread of nothingness, that stole
over his heart as if to extinguish it. Ah, if Lelie
were to leave him now ! and then the tears would
rush into his manly eyes, and Wilhelm knew that
he loved her. It is a truth, and an almost uni-

WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GRINDEE. 219

versa! one, that the strongest and most beautiful
minds feel most sensitively the oppression of cor-
poral infirmities. Wilhelm was lame, and he
knew that Lelie was surpassing beautiful. He
was only twelve years her senior, and he had
known, loved, and tended her longer than any
other mortal had ; but though he had deemed
himself fit to be a father and instructor to Lelie,
he was convinced that she would hardly reckon
him a fit companion to brighten and sustain her
life — a worthy object to whom she might apply
the name of husband.

"Ah, well, "Wilhelm, I shall tell Myneer Van
Ostt to walk by himself henceforth," said Lelie,
gravely, as she threw off her cloak and hood after
one of her walks. " I am done with him."

" And why, dear Lelie ? » said Wilhelm.

"For various weighty reasons," said Lelie,
smiling, " but chiefly on my own account."

" And how on your own account ? " said Wil-
helm, earnestly.

"Lest I should fall in love with so stupid a
creature," said Lelie, laughing; "and then, you
know, according to your theory, I should become
like him."

Wilhelm was silent for a few moments, and
then he said, " So you would prefer some other
companion to Hitter, Lelie ? "

"Ay, that I would, to all the Ritters in the
Netherlands. Do you think, my own Wilhelm,
that I am happy when I am in the gardens with

220 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

Van Ostt ? Ah, if you do, how mistaken you
are ! »

Wilhelm was troubled, and then quietly said,
"Hitter Van Ostt is a man of substance and of
honest fame "

" Oh, fame ! " cried Lelie, interrupting him ;
"that he blows forth most lustily himself; they
should put a trumpet in his hand when they erect
his statue on the top of the Town-House."

" I have asked you to go with Hitter merely
because I thought it would be pleasant for you to
see the green trees, and to inhale the fragrance of
the flowers."

"Then you should come with us if you wish
them to be beautiful in themselves or agreeable to
me," said Lelie, with charming naivete.

Wilhelm looked at his portege in amazement,
and then a sweet smile overspread his face, as he
replied, " And so you prefer to talk to Wilhelm
and to walk with him, although he is not the finest
talker or walker in Belgium."

" This hearth is the brightest spot I know or
have ever known on earth," said Lelie, in low,
tremulous, earnest tones. " This face is the hand-
somest to me in the world," she continued, as she
leant upon Wilhelm's breast and spread back the
dark curls from his brow. " These lips have ever
been the sweetest exponents of wisdom and good-
ness that I have known. Ah, Wilhelm, Wilhelm !
what should poor Lelie do if you were to bid her
leave you ? "

WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GRINDEK. 221

The knife-grinder caught the earnest tearful
girl in his arms, and he gazed into her face. Was
he dreaming? Was this some passing illusion
too bright to last ? Ah ! no ; for truth in its in-
tegrity and purity was reflected in her eyes.
Through the vista of a few years he saw himself a
poor and ragged youth, friendless and almost
spiritless, plodding the streets of his native city
for the precarious bread derived from a precarious
calling. He saw a little girl thrown in his path
even more friendless and wretched than he. The
political economist who draws conclusions only
after casual reflections and with arithmetical pre-
cision, would inevitably have seen in the adoption
of this child by Wilhelm an addition to his misery;
but, by a law which political economists and
philosophers have never been able to write down,
the blessing had come with the burden. A good
deed more than rewards itself; the deed is but
the action of a moment ; the reward begins on
earth, and goes on increasing through eternity.
From a drooping, almost satisfied, son of poverty,
Wilhelm, by the stirring of the nobler impulses
of his nature, had grown slowly and gradually
into a refined and honored man ; and Lelie, from
a beggar and an outcast, had been trained into
beauty, goodness, and virtue.

" Well, Wilhelm, I consider it but right as a
matter of courtesy, and what not ? " said Ritter.
Ritter always finished his sentences with the words,
" and what not." " I consider it right," said he,

222 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

" to let you know that it is time Lelie was mar-
ried."

" I was thinking so myself," said Wilhelm, as
he leant over his counter, and smiled in the face
of Van Ostt.

" And I consider it but right to let you know
that I mean to have her, which, I daresay, will be
as agreeable to you as to her, and what not ?"
said Hitter, cocking up his beaver and swelling
out his cheeks.

" As agreeable to the one as to the other, doubt-
less," replied Wilhelm, quietly.

" You are a man of substance, Voss," said the
skinner, looking more important than ever he had
done, " and it is to be hoped that you will be
liberal to the girl."

" I have never laid past a stiver but her share
was in it," said Wilhelm, seriously; she shall
have my all when she marries."

" I always said that you was a good fellow, and
a liberal fellow, and what not?" said Ritter,
grasping Wilhelm's hand, and slapping him on
the shoulder with the other. " Odds Bobs, man,
how glad we shall be to see thee in the evenings !"

"I shall keep at home in the evenings as
hitherto," replied the knife-grinder, with a merry
twinkle in his eye ; " my wife shall feel lonely
without me else."

" Your wife ! " said Ritter, staring at Wilhelm ;
" who is she ? when is it to be ? and what not ? "

" Why, Lelie has her wedding garments to

WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GEINDEK. 223

"make, and what not ? " said Wilhelm, laughing
outright ; " but whenever she says the word, I am
ready."

" Lelie ! you ! " cried Ritter in amazement, as
he looked at Wilhelm, and then, strutting up and
down the shop, looked first at his limbs, and then
at the cloth of his doublet. " Well, who ever
heard of the like ? »

" Ay, ay, Ritter, and so you envied me of my
little girl, did you ? " said Wilhelm, smiling ; " she
wouldn't have you, though, although you were
twice as large and rich as you are. I shall take
care and give thee a bidding, however, to our
wedding."

Wilhelm and Lelie Voss were the father and
mother of honest burghers, and of burghers' lovely
wives. Everybody loved them who knew them,
and their children almost adored them ; but there
was a class of children who had reason, above all
others, to bless their name, and to rejoice that
prosperity had not made them forget their own
early days. The poor and outcast children of
humanity, who roamed the streets in rags, were
ever recognized by Wilhelm as brethren in soul
and suffering ; and the little girls who trembled
on the verge of youthful purity and irreclaimable
vice, were sisters to the bosom of Madame Lelie.
Holy, purifying suffering ! which, like the crucible
of clay that is continent of gold, refines wThile it
burns, how many have passed through thy ordeal
preparatory to a mission of love and benificence !

224 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

Who so active as Wilhelm in founding the
Foundling Hospital of Brussels ? and who so care-
ful in tending the school for orphans as Lelie ?
And Wilhelm and Lelie had means and time, too,
to attend to these things ; for he became burgo-
master of all the crafts, and rich to boot, and lived
at last in the Park where he once limped about,
a poor itinerant knife-grinder.

THE STOEY OF HUGH MILLEK'S
EAKLY DAYS.

HUGH MILLER was born at Cromarty, in 1802.
His ancestors were a race of adventurous and
skillful sailors, who had coasted the Scottish shores
as early as the days of Sir Andrew Wood and
the bold Barton. His great grandsire, one of the
last of the buccaneers that sailed the Spanish Main,
had invested a portion of his surplus doubloons in
the long, low cottage where the subject of our
sketch first drew breath. To avoid the hereditary
fate of the family — which, in its male members,
had, during many generations, nearly all perished
at sea — Hugh Miller's grandmother consigned his
father to the care of an aunt married to a neigh-
boring farmer. But an agricultural life was not
his destiny. The boy was sent to drown a litter
of puppies ; his young heart relenting, he found
the task impossible, and towards gloaming wan-
dered home to his mother with the doomed qua-
drupeds tucked up in his kilt. " Mother," said the
15

226 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

boy, in reply to a maternal ejaculation of surprise,
" I couldna drown the little doggies, mother ! and
I brought them to you." The youth who "couldna
drown the doggies " afterwards did very effective
execution upon the Dutch off the " Dogger Bank."
in the memorable naval action of the name.

Retiring from the service of his country — into
which, indeed, he had been pressed without his
consent — the next glimpse we have of Hugh
Miller's father, he is master of a craft that sails
from his native Cromarty. For a time fortune
smiles upon the hardy tar ; but, while sunning him-
self in success, he was doomed to feel how quickly
adversity sometimes follows upon the heels of for-
tune. Early in November, 1797, Miller's sloop,
which for some days had lain wind-bound in the
port of Peterhead, left its moorings and bore out
to sea. The breeze w^hich had lured the craft
from her haven speedily freshened into a gale, the
gale into a hurricane, and his bark, the Friendship,
is next morning in splinters on the bar of Findhorn.
By the assistance of a friend, the money required
to purchase a new sloop was provided, and soon a
vessel nearly equal to the old is once more the
property of the sailor.

Ten years pass away ; it is again November ; and
again Miller's sloop — not now wind-bound as be-
fore, but compelled by the gale — seeks shelter in
Peterhead. The tempest seems abated, and on
the 10th of the ill-fated month, Miller has left the
harbor of refuge. Soon a storm arose, more ter-

STORY OF JIUGII MILLEIi's EARLY DAYS. 227

rible than the storm in which the Friendship
went to pieces. All that skill and seamanship
could do was done ; but the night fell wild and
tempestuous, and no vestige of the hapless sloop
or Hi-starred mariner was ever more seen. On the
9th November, Hugh Miller's father's last letter
was addressed to his family. It had been received
in the humble dwelling at Peterhead as only the
letters of the sailor are received. But the night
after the reception of the farewell epistle, the
house door, which had been left unfastened, fell
open. Hugh Miller, then just turned five years,
is dispatched to shut it. Of what follows, it is
perhaps well that the man should tell the recollec-
tions of the boy. "Day had not wholly disap-
peared, but it was fast posting into night. Within
less than a yard of my breast, as plainly as I ever
saw anything, was a dissevered hand and arm
stretched towards me. Hand and arm were ap-
parently those of a female; they bore a livid
and sodden appearance ; and directly fronting me,
where the body ought to have been, there was
only blank, transparent space, through which I
could see the dim forms of the objects beyond.
I was fearfully startled, and ran shrieking to my
mother, telling her what I had seen. I communi-
cated the story," continues Hugh Miller, " as it lies
fixed in my memory, without attempting to ex-
plain it ; " and we shall best respect the memory
of the dead by leaving the apparition as its nar-
rator has left it, unexplained. But whatever

228 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

doubt might be entertained about the reality of
the vision, there could be none about the loss the
boy had sustained. Long after hope had died in
every breast save his own, was little Miller seen
looking wistfully out from the grassy protuber-
ance of the old coast line above his mother's house,
into the Moray Frith, for the sloop with the white
stripes and the square top-sails, but sloop nor sire
never came again. In opening manhood Hugh
Miller embalmed in verse the record of the catas-
trophe which beclouded "life's young day" with
this great sorrow ; but the boy of five years, day
by day, and month after month, mounting that
grassy knoll, intent only on discovering, amid
" the yeast of waves," the bark which has borne
his father from him never to return, is a nobler
poem than any "a journeyman stone-mason"
wrote.

The death of a father so keenly mourned, was
in some measure compensated by his two maternal
imcles — types of a class of men that, from age to
age, have been the glory of the peasantry of Scot-
land. In his " Schools and Schoolmasters," the
subject of our sketch has paid a generous and
affecting tribute to this pair of noble brothers.
Uncle James was a harness-maker — and wrought
for the farmers of an extensive district of country
• — a keen local antiquary, and possessed of an as-
tonishing store of traditionary lore. Ever just in
his own dealings, he regarded every species of
meanii'jss with thorough contempt. Uncle Alex-

STORY OF HUGH MILLER'S EAKLY DAYS. 2159

ancler was characterized by the same strict integ-
rity, though of a somewhat different cast from his
brother, both in intellect and temperament. An
old sailor, he had served under Duncan at Cam-
perdown, taken part in the campaign under Aber-
crombie in Egypt, and by his descriptions of foreign
plants and animals, had kindled in his nephew his
own special tastes. Uncle Sandy, in point of fact,
was Hugh Miller's professor of natural history.
Before his father's death, young Miller had been
sent to a " dame school," and, under the tuition of
an old lady, he got through the Shorter Catechism,
the Proverbs, the New Testament, and at length
entered the Bible class. At first his tasks proved
irksome hi the extreme ; but so soon as Hugh
Miller discovered that in the art of reading con-
sisted the art of finding stories in books, all the
drudgery was over. After this discovery, his pro-
gress, which had hitherto been nothing extraordi-
nary, accelerated in something like a geometric
ratio. The stories of Joseph, of Samson, of David,
of Goliath, of Elijah and Elisha, were all speedily
mastered. From these Hebrew worthies, he turned
to the classical romances of childhood — " Jack the
Giant Killer," "Jack and the Bean Stalk," "Blue
Beard," " Sinbad the Sailor," " Beauty and the
Beast," "Aladdin, or the Wonderful Lamp."
From these he passed, without any conscious line
of division, to the " Odyssey " of old Homer,
and from the "Odyssey" turned to that mar-
velous production of the Tinker of Elstow, — the

230 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

" Pilgrim's Progress." Subsequently, " Howie's
Scots Worthies," "Napthali, or the Hind let
Loose," " The Cloud of Witnesses," &c., were
made his own. About this time, also, it was that
Hugh Miller's " Uncle James " put into his hands
" Blind Harry's Wallace." When the boy had
read how Wallace killed young Selbie the con-
stable's son, how Wallace had fished the Irvine
water, and how Wallace killed the churl with his
own staff in Ayr, his uncle with a dash of the dry
humor that makes a joke effective, said to him, as
the book seemed a rather rough sort of production,
he need read no more of it unless he liked. But
young Miller rather did like to read of Wallace.
The fiery narrative of the blind bard intoxicated
his young heart; all he had previously read or
heard of battles seemed tame in comparison with
the deeds of Scotland's hero guardian.

After some twelve months' instruction in the
dame school, young Miller was transferred to the
grammar school of Cromarty. Its master was a
good scholar, but by no means an energetic in-
structor. If a boy wished to learn he could teach
him, but if a boy wished to do nothing, he was not
required to do more than he wished. Meeting-
one day with Uncle James, he urged the harness-
maker to put his nephew into Latin. The recom-
mendation of the master possessing a sort of pre-
established harmony with the ideas of the uncle,
Hugh Miller was transferred from the English to
the Latin form. In the Latin class, however, ho

STORY OF HUGH MILLER5 S EARLY DAYS. 231

appears to have forgotten his axiom about the art
of reading. "The Rudiments" was to him by far
the dullest book he ever read, and it was not long
before he began miserably to flag, and to long for
his English reading, with its picture-like descrip-
tions and its amusing stories.

A few of the wealthier inhabitants of Cromarty,
irritated with the small progress of their sons under
the care of the parish teacher, got up a subscrip-
tion school, to which they transferred their chil-
dren. Uncle James, sharing the general impatience,
sent his protege thither likewise. The teacher of ,
the subscription school was rather a clever young
man, considerably smarter than the parish dominie,
to whom the pleasures of sitting still seemed supe-
rior to all other pleasures. But unfortunately the
master of the new academy soon proved quite as
unsteady as he was clever. Having got rid of
him, a licentiate of the Church of Scotland was
procured. For a time this second teacher prom-
ised well, but, getting immersed in a special
theological controversy, he ultimately resigned his
charge. A third teacher was got, but unluckily
he also soon gave up in despair. Young Miller's
opportunities for exploring Cromarty and its en-
virons were, in consequence of these mishaps,
quite as great as ever. His recollections of excur-
sions made into the interior at this early period,
partially lift the veil which now, during fifty years
has been falling over the antique customs of nor-
thern society.

MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

" The Cromarty Sutors have their two lines of
caves — an ancient line, hollowed by the waves
many centuries ago, when the sea stood, in rela-
tion to the land, from fifteen to thirty feet higher
along our shores than it does now ; and a modern
line, which the surf is still engaged in scooping
out. Many of the older caves are lined with sta-
lactites, deposited by springs that, filtering through
the cracks and fissures of the gneiss, find lime
enough in their passage to acquire what is known as
a petrifying, though, in reality, only an incrusting
quality. And these stalactites, under the name
of ' white stones made by the water,' formed of
old — as in that Cave of Slains specially mentioned
by Buchanan and the Chroniclers, and in those
caverns of the Peak so quaintly described by Cot-
ton— one of the grand marvels of the place. Al-
most all the old gazetteers sufficiently copious in
their details to mention Cromarty at all, refer to
its ' Dropping Cave ' as a marvelous marvel-pro-
ducing cavern ; and this ' Dropping Cave ' is but
one of many that look out upon the sea from the
precipices of the Southern Sutor, in whose dark
recesses the drops ever tinkle, and the stony ceil-
ings ever grow. The wonder could not have been
deemed a great or veiy rare one by a man like the
late Sir George Mackenzie of Coul, well known
from his travels in Iceland, and his experiments
on the inflammability of the diamond ; but it so
happened, that Sir George, curious to see the sort
of stones to which the old gazetteers referred, made

STOKY OF HUGH MlLLEu's EARLY DAYS. 233

application to the minister of the parish for a set of
specimens ; and the minister straightway deputed the
commission, which he believed to be not a difficult
one, to one of his poorer parishioners, an old nailer,
as a means of putting a few shillings in his way.

" It so happened, however, that the nailer had
lost his wife by a sad accident, only a few weeks
before ; and the story went abroad that the poor
woman was, as the townspeople expressed it, ' com-
ing back.' She had been very suddenly hurried out
of the world. When going down the quay, after
nightfall one evening, with a parcel of clean linen
for a sailor, her relative, she had missed footing on
the pier-edge, and, half-brained, half-drowned, had
been found in the morning, stone dead, at the
bottom of the harbor. And now, as if pressed
by some unsettled business, she used to be seen, it
was said, hovering after nightfall about her old
dwelling, or sauntering along the neighboring
street ; nay, there were occasions, according to the
general report, in which she had even exchanged
words with some of her neighbors, little to their
satisfaction. The words, however, seemed in every
instance to have wonderfully little to do with the
affairs of another world. I remember seeing the
wife of a neighbor rush into my mother's one
evening, about this time, speechless with terror, and
declare, after an awful pause, during which she
had lain half-fainting in a chair, that she had just
eeen Christy. She had been engaged, as the
night was falling, but ere darkness had quite set

234: MEN WHO HAVE KISEK.

in, in piling up a load of brushwood for fuel out-
side her door, when up started the spectre on the
other side of the heap, attired in the ordinary work-
day garb of the deceased, and, in a light and hur-
ried tone, asked, as Christy might have done ere
the fatal accident, for a share of the brushwood.
' Give me some of that hagf said the ghost ; 'you
have plenty — I have none.' It was not known
whether or no the nailer had seen the apparition,
but it was pretty certain he believed in it ; and as
the ' Dropping Cave J is both dark and solitary,
and had forty years ago a bad name to boot — for
the mermaid had been observed disporting in front
of it even at mid-day, and lights seen and screams
heard from it at nights — it must have been a
rather formidable place to a man living in the mo-
mentary expectation of a visit from a dead wife.
So far as could be ascertained — for the nailer him-
self was rather close in the matter — he had not
entered the cave at all. He seemed, judging from
the marks of scraping left along the sides for about
two or three feet from the narrow opening, to have
taken his stand outside, where the light was good,
and the way of retreat clear, and to have raked
outwards to him, as far as he could reach, all that
stuck to the walls, including ropy slime and mouldy
damp, but not one particle of stalactite. It was,
of course, seen that his specimens would not suit
Sir George ; and the minister, in the extremity of
the case, applied to my uncles, though with some
little unwillingness, as it was known that no remu-

235

neration for their trouble could be offered to them.
My uncles were, however, delighted with the com-
mission— it was all for the benefit of science ; and,
providing themselves with torches and a hammer,
they set out for the caves. And I, of course, ac-
companied them — a very happy boy, armed, like
themselves, with hammer and torch, and prepared
devotedly to labor in behalf of science and Sir
George.

" I had never before seen the caves by torch-light ;
and though what I now witnessed did not quite
come up to what I had read regarding the Grotto
of Antiparos, or even.the wonders of the Peak, it
was unquestionably both strange and fine. The
celebrated Dropping Cave proved inferior — as is
not unfrequently the case with the celebrated — to
a cave almost entirely unknown, which opened
among the rocks a little further to the east ; and
yet even it had its interest. It widened, as one
entered, into a twilight chamber, green with velvety
mosses, that love the damp and the shade ; and
terminated in a range of crystalline wells, fed by
the perpetual dropping, and hollowed in what
seemed an altar-piece of the deposited marble.
And above and along the sides there depended
many a draped fold, and hung many a translucent
icicle. The other cave, however, we found to be
of much greater extent, and of more varied char-
acter. It is one of three caves of the old coast-
line, known as the Dovecot or Pigeon Caves, which
open upon a piece of rocky beach, overhung by a

236 MEN WHO HAVE

rudely semicircular range of gloomy precipices,
the points of the semicircle project on either side
into deep water — into at least water so much
deeper than the fall of ordinary neaps, that it is
only during the ebb of stream tides that the place
is accessible by land ; and in each of these bold
promontories — the terminal horns of the crescent
— there is a cave of the present coast-line, deeply
hollowed, in which the sea stands from ten to
twelve feet in depth when the tide is at full, and
in which the surf thunders, when gales blow hard
from the stormy north-east, with the roar of whole
parks of artillery. The cav£ in the western prom-
ontory, which bears among the townsfolk the
name of the ' Puir Wife's Meal Kist,' has its roof
drilled by two small perforations, the largest of
them not a great deal wider than the blow-hole of
a porpoise, that open externally among the cliffs
above ; and when, during storms from the sea, the
huge waves come rolling ashore like green moving
walls, there are certain times of the tide in which
they shut up the mouth of the cave, and so com-
press the air within, that it rushes up wards through
the openings, roaring in its escape as if ten whales
were blowing at once, and rises from amid the
crags overhead in two white jets of vapor, dis-
tinctly visible to the height of from sixty to eighty
feet. If there be critics who have deemed it one
of the extravagances of Goethe that he should
have given life and motion, as in his famous witch-
scene in 'Faust,' to the Hartz crags, they would

STORY OF HUGH MILLERS EAKLY DAYS. 237

do well to visit this bold headland during some
winter tempest from the east, and find his descrip-
tion perfectly sober and true :

" ' See the giant crags, oh ho !

How they snort and how they blow.1

"Within, at the bottom of the crescent, and
where the tide never reaches when at the fullest,
we found the large pigeon cave, which we had
come to explore, hollowed for about a hundred and
fifty feet in the line of a fault. There runs across
the opening the broken remains of a wall erected
by some monopolizing proprietor of the neighbor-
ing lands, with the intention of appropriating to
himself the pigeons of the cavern ; but his day
had, even at this time, been long gone by, and the
wall had sunk into a ruin. As we advanced, the
cave caught the echoes of our footsteps, and a flock
of pigeons, startled from their nests, came whiz-
zing out, almost brushing us with their wings.
The damp floor sounded hollow to the tread ; we
saw the green mossy sides, which close in the un-
certain light, more than twenty feet overhead,
furrowed by ridges of stalactites, that became
whiter and purer as they retired from the vege-
tative influences ; and marked that the last plant
which appeared, as we wended our way inwards,
was a minute green moss, about half an inch in
length, which slanted outwards on the prominences
of the sides, and overlay myriads of similar sprigs
of moss, long before converted into stone, but
which, faithful in death to the ruling law of their

238 MEK WHO HAVE KISEtf.

lives, still pointed, like the others, to the free ah*
and the light. And then, in the deeper recesses
of the cave, where the floor becomes covered with
uneven sheets of stalagmite, and where long spear-
like icicles and drapery-like foldings, pure as the
marble of the sculptor descend from above or
hang pendent over the sides, we found in abun-
dance magnificent specimens for Sir George. The
entire expedition was one of wondrous interest; and
I returned next day to school, big with description
and narrative, to excite, by truths more marvel-
ous than fiction, the curiosity of my class-fellows.
" I had previously introduced them to the marvels
of the hill ; and during our Saturday half-holidays,
some of them had accompanied me in my excur-
sions to it. But it had failed, somehow, to catch
their fancy. It was too solitary, and too far from
home, and, as a scene of amusement, not at all
equal to the town-links, where they could play at
' shinty,' and ' French and English,' almost within
hail of their parents' homesteads. The very tract
along its flat, moory summit, over which, accord-
in <r to tradition, Wallace had once driven before

O '

him, in headlong route, a strong body of English,
and which was actually mottled with sepulchral
tumuli, still visible amid the heath, failed in any
marked degree to engage them ; and though they
liked well enough to hear about the caves, they
seemed to have no very great desire to see them.
There was, however, one little fellow, who sat at
the Latin form — the member of a class lower and

STORY OF HUGH MILLER'S EARLY DAYS. 239

brighter than the heavy one, though it was not
particularly bright neither — who differed in this
respect from all the others. Though he was my
junior by about a twelvemonth, and shorter by
about half a head, he was a diligent boy in even
the Grammar School, in which boys were so rarely
diligent, and, for his years, a thoroughly sensible
one, without a grain of the dreamer in his com-
position. I succeeded, however, notwithstanding
his sobriety, in infecting him thoroughly with my
peculiar tastes, and learned to love him very much,
partly because he doubled my amusements by
sharing in them, and partly, I daresay, on the
principle on which Mahomet preferred his old wife
to his young one, because 'he Irelieved in me.'
Devoted to him as Caliban in the c Tempest > to his
friend Trinculo,

" 'I showed him the best springs, I plucked him berries,
And I with my long nails did dig him pig-nuts.'

" His curiosity on this occasion was largely excited
by my description of the Doocot Cave ; and, set-
ting out one morning to explore its wonders, armed
with John Feddes's hammer, in the benefits of
which my fiend was permitted liberally to share,
w.e failed, for that day at least, in finding our way
back.

" It was on a pleasant spring morning that, with
my little curious friend beside me, I stood on the
beach opposite the eastern promontory, that, with
its stern, granitic wall, bars access for ten days out

240 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

of every fourteen to the wonders of the Doocot ;
and saw it stretching provokingly out into the
green water. It was hard to be disappointed and
the caves so near. The tide was a low neap, and
if we wanted a passage dry-shod, it behoved us to
wait for at least a week ; but neither of us under-
stood the philosophy of neap tides at the period.
I was quite sure I had got round at low water,
with my uncles, not a great many days before,
and we both inferred, that if we but succeeded in
getting round now, it would be quite a pleasure
to wait among the caves inside until such time as
the fall of the tide should lay bare a passage for
our return. A narrow and broken shelf runs along
the promontory on which, by the assistance of the
naked toe and the toe-nail, it is just possible to
creep. We succeeded in scrambling up to it ; and
then, crawling outwards on all-fours — the preci-
pice, as we proceeded, beetling more and more
formidable from above, and the water becoming
greener and deeper below — we reached the outer
point of the promontory ; and then doubling the
cape on a still narrowing margin — the water, by
a reverse process, becoming shallower and less
green as we advanced inwards — we found the
ledge terminating just where, after clearing the
sea, it overhung the gravelly beach at an elevation
of nearly ten feet. Adown we both dropped,
proud of our success ; up splashed the rattling
gravel as we fell ; and for at least the whole com-
ing week — though we were unaware of the extent

STORY OF HUGH MILLER'S EARLY DAYS. 241

of our good luck at the time — the marvels of the
Doocot Cave might be regarded as solely and ex-
clusively our own. For one short seven days — to
borrow emphasis from the phraseology of Carlyle —
4 they were our own, and no other man's.'

" The first few hours were hours of sheer enjoy-
ment. The larger cave proved a mine of marvels;
and we found a great deal additional to wonder at
on the slopes beneath the precipices, and along
the piece of rocky sea-beach in front. We suc-
ceeded in discovering for ourselves, in creeping,
dwarf bushes, that told of the blighting influence
t of the sea- spray; the pale yellow honey-suckle
that we had never seen before, save in gardens
and shrubberies; and on a deeply-shaded slope
that leaned against one of the steeper precipices,
we detected the sweet-scented woodroof of the
flower-pot and parterre, with its pretty verticillate
leaves that become the more odoriferous the more
they are crushed, and its white delicate flowers.
There, too, immediately in the opening of the
deeper cave, Avhere a small stream came pattering
in detached drops from the over-beetling precipice
above, like the first drops of a heavy thunder-
shower, we found the hot, bitter scurvy grass,
with its minute cruciform flowers, which the great
Captain Cook had used in his voyages ; above all,
there were the caves with their pigeons — white,
variegated, and blue — and their mysterious and
gloomy depths, in which plants hardened into
stone, and water became marble. In a short time

242 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

we had broken off with our hammer whole pocket-
fuls of stalactites and petrified moss. There were
little pools at the side of the cave, where we could
see the work of congelation going on, as at the
commencement of an October frost, when the cold
north wind ruffles, and but barely ruffles, the sur-
face of some mountain lochan or sluggish moorland
stream, and shows the newly-formed needles ot
ice projecting mole-like from the shores into the
water. So rapid was the course of deposition,
that there were cases in which the sides of the
hollows seemed growing almost in proportion as
the water rose in them ; the springs, lipping over,
deposited their minute crystals on the edges; and
the reservoirs deepened and became more capaci-
ous as their mounds were built up by this curious
masonry. The long telescopic prospect of the
sparkling sea, as viewed from the inner extremity
of the cavern, while all around was dark as mid.
night — the sudden gleam of the sea-gull, seen for
a moment from the recess, as it flitted past in the
sunshine — the black heaving bulk of the grampus,
I as it threw up its slender jets of spray, and then,
turning downwards, displayed its glossy back and
vast angular fin — even the pigeons, as they shot
whizzing by, one moment scarce visible in the
gloom, the next, radiant in the light — all acquired
a new interest, from the peculiarity of the setting
in which we saw them. They formed a series ot
sun-gilt vignettes, framed in jet ; and it was long
ere we tired of seeing and admiring in them much

YOUNG HUGH MILLKIt IS THE CAVE.

" There was n vessel crossing (he wake of the moon nt the time, scarce half n mile from tbe
shore ; mid, assisted by my companion, 1 began to about lit the top of my lungs, in the hope ot being
beard t.y ihe Bailors."— PACK -J43.

STORY OP HUGH MILLEK^S EARLY DAYS. 24:3

of the strange and the beautiful. It did seem
rather ominous, however, and perhaps somewhat
supernatural to boot, that about an hour after
noon, the tide, while there was yet a full fathom
of water beneath the brow of the promontory,
ceased to fall, and then, after a quarter of an
hour's space, began actually to creep upwards on
the beach. But just hoping that there might be
some mistake in the matter, which the evening
tide would scarce fail to rectify, we continued to
amuse ourselves, and to hope on. Hour after
hour passed, lengthening as the shadows length-
ened, and yet the tide still rose. The sun had
sunk behind the precipices, and all was gloom
along their bases, and double gloom in their caves ;
but their rugged brows still caught the red glare
of evening. The flush rose higher and higher,
chased by the shadows ; and then, after lingering
for a moment on their crests of honey-suckle and
juniper, passed away, and the whole became som-
bre and gray. The sea-gull sprang upwards from
where he had floated on the ripple, and hied him
slowely away to his lodge in his deep-sea stack ;
the dusky cormorant flitted past, with heavier and
more frequent stroke, to his whitened shelf high
on the precipice; the pigeons came whizzing
downwards from the uplands and the opposite
land, and disappeared amid the gloom of their
caves; every creature that had wings made use
of them in speeding homewards ; but neither my
companion nor myself had any ; and there was no

MEX WHO HAVE KIS£N.

possibility of getting home without them. We
made desperate efforts to scale the precipices, and
on two several occasions succeeded in reaching
mid-way shelves among the crags, where the
sparrovvhawk and the raven build ; but though we
had climbed well enough to render our return a
matter of bare possibility, there was no possibility
whatever of getting further up: the cliffs had
never been scaled before, and they were not des-
tined to be scaled now. And so, as the twilight
deepened, and the precarious footing became every
moment more doubtful and precarious still, we
had just to give up in despair. 'Wouldn't care
for myself,' said the poor little fellow, my compan-
ion, bursting into tears, ' if it were not for my
mother ; but what will my mother say ? '
c Wouldn't care neither,' said I, with a heavy heart ;
'but it's just back water, we'll get out at twall.'
We retreated together into one of the shallower
and drier caves, and, clearing a little spot of its
rough stones, and then groping along the rocks
for the dry grass that in the spring season hangs
from them in withered tufts, we formed for our-
salves a most uncomfortable bed, and lay down in
one another's arms. For the last few hours moun-
tainous piles of clouds had been rising dark and
stormy in the sea-mouth : they had flared porten-
tously in the setting sun, and had worn, with the
decline of evening, almost every meteoric tint of
anger, from fiery red to a sombre thundrous brown,
and from sombre brown to doleful black. And

Y OF HUGH MILLER'S EARLY DAYS. 245

we could now at least hear what they portended,
though we could no longer see. The rising wind
began to howl mournfully amid the cliffs, and the
sea, hitherto so silent, to beat heavily against the
shore, and to boom, like distress-guns, from the
recesses of the two deep-sea caves. We could
hear, too, the beating rain, now heavier, now
lighter, as the gusts swelled or sank ; and the in-
termittent patter of the streamlet over the deeper
cave, now driving against the precipices, now de-
scending heavily on the stones.

" My companion had only the real evils of the
case to deal with, and so, the hardness of our bed
and the coldness of the night considered, he slept
tolerably well ; but I was unlucky enough to have
evils greatly worse than the real ones to annoy me.
The corpse of a drowned seaman had been found
on the beach about a month previous, some forty
yards from where we lay. The hands and feet,
miserably contracted and corrugated into deep
folds at every joint, yet swollen to twice their
proper size, had been bleached as white as pieces
of alumed sheep-skin ; and where the head should
have been, there existed only a sad mass of rub-
bish. I had examined the body, as young people
are apt to do, a great deal too curiously for my
peace ; and, though I had never done the poor
nameless seaman any harm, I could not have suf-
fered more from him during that melancholy night
had I been his murderer. Sleeping or waking, he
was continually before me. Every tune I dropped

24:6 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

into a doze, he would come stalking up the beach
from the spot where he had lain, with his stiff
white fingers, that stuck out like eagles' toes, and
his pale broken pulp of a head, and attempt strik-
ing me ; and then I would awaken with a start,
cling to my companion, and remember that the
drowned sailor had lain festering among the iden-
tical bunches of sea- weed that still rotted on the
beach not a stone-cast away. The near neighbor-
hood of a score of living bandits would have
inspired less horror than the recollection of that
one dead seaman.

"Towards midnight the sky cleared and the
wind fell, and the moon, in her last quarter, rose
red as a mass of heated iron out of the sea. We
crept down, in the uncertain light, over the rough
slippery crags, to ascertain whether the tide had
not fallen sufficiently far to yield us a passage ;
but we found the waves chafing among the rocks
just where the tide-line had rested twelve hours
before, and a full fathom of sea enclasping the
base of the promontory. A glimmering idea of
the real nature of our situation at length crossed
my mind. It was not imprisonment for a tide to
which we had consigned ourselves ; it was impris-
onment for a week. There was little comfort in
the thought, arising, as it did, amid the chills and
terrors of a dreary midnight ; and I looked wist-
fully on the sea as our only path of escape. There
was a vessel crossing the wake of the moon at the
time, scarce half a mile from the shore ; and, as-

STOJIY OF HUGH MILLEfi's EARLY DAYS. 24:7

sistcd by my companion, I began to shout at the
top of my lungs, in the hope of being heard by
the sailors. We saw her dim bulk falling slowly
at 1 1 wart the red glittering belt of light that had
rendered her visible, and then disappearing in the
murky blackness ; and just as we lost sight of her
forever, we could hear an indistinct sound mingling
with the dash of the waves — the shout, in reply,
of the startled helmsmen. The vessel, as we
afterwards, learned, was a large stone-lighter,
deeply laden, and unfurnished with a boat ; nor
were her crew at all sure that it would have been
safe to attend to the midnight voice from amid
the rocks, even had they the means of communi-
cation with the shore. We waited on and on,
however, now shouting by turns, and now shout-
ing together ; but there was no second reply ; and
at length, losing hope, we groped our way back
to our comfortless bed, just as the tide had again
turned on the beach, and the waves began to roll
upwards higher and higher at every dash.

" As the moon rose and brightened, the dead
seaman became less troublesome ; and I had suc-
ceeded in dropping as soundly asleep as my com-
panion, when we were both aroused by a loud
shout. We started up, and again crept down-
wards among the crags to the shore ; and as we
reached the sea, the shout was repeated. It was
that of at least a dozen harsh voices united. There
was a brief pause followed by another shout ; and
then two boats, strongly manned, shot round the

248 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

western promontory, and the men, resting on their
oars, turned towards the rock, and shouted yet
again. The whole town had been alarmed by the
intelligence that two little boys had straggled
away in the morning to the rocks of the Southern
Sutor, and had not found their way back. The
•precipices had been from time immemorial a scene
of frightful accidents, and it was at once inferred
that one other sad accident had been added to the
number. True, there were cases remembered of
people having been tide-bound in the Doocot
Caves, and not much the worse in consequence ;
but as the caves were inaccessible during neaps,
we could not, it was said, possibly be in them ;
and the sole remaining ground of hope was, that,
as had happened once before, only one of the two
had been killed, and that the survivor was linger-
ing among the rocks, afraid to come home. And
in this belief, when the moon rose and the surf
fell, the two boats had been fitted out. It was
late in the morning ere we reached Cromarty, but
a crowd on the beach awaited our arrival; and
there were anxious-looking lights glancing in the
windows, thick and manifold ; nay, sucli was the
interest elicited, that some enormously bad verse,
in which the writer described the incident a few
days after, became popular enough to be handed
about in manuscript, and read at tea-parties, by
the elite of the town. Poor old Miss Bond, who
kept the town boarding-school, got the piece nicely
dressed up, somewhat upon the principle on which

STORY OF HUGH MILLERS EAKLY DAYS. 24**

Macpherson translated Ossian; and at her first
school examination — proud and happy day for the
author ! — it was recited with vast applause, by one
of her prettiest young ladies, before the assembled
taste and fashion of Cromarty."

About this period, schoolmaster number four is
appointed to the Cromarty subscription academy.
The new master appeared, to his more advanced
pupils, a combination of the coxcomb and the
pedant. It will not surprise readers in possession
of this information, to learn that the subject of
our sketch (through life as little as possible of either
pedant or coxcomb) did not long keep on the most
amicable terms with the new teacher. A fight
arose out of some dispute about spelling, which so
soon as finished, Miller takes down his cap from
the pin, and bids the pedagogue good-bye, having
got about as little benefit from his half-dozen pre-
ceptors as probably ever did any man of equal
eminence.

' Hugh Miller is now nearly seventeen years of
age : the period has arrived when he must decide
what shall be the business of his life. His uncles
had expected to see their nephew attaining emi-
nence in some of the learned professions. Their
labor was their only capital, yet they would gladly
have assisted him in getting to college. But to all
their entreaties he pertinaciously demurred. He
thought himself destitute of any peculiar fitness for
either the legal or the medical professions, and the
church was too serious a direction in winch to look

250 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

for his bread, unless he could regard himself as
called to the church's proper work. With extreme
reluctance Hugh Miller's uncles resigned their
nephew to a life of manual labor. Consent, how-
ever, was at length wrung from them, and their
protege, whom they would gladly have sent to the
university, becomes a mason's apprentice, and may
be seen arrayed, not in the gown of the scholar,
but in a suit of moleskins, and a pair of heavy hob-
nailed shoes. Unwilling that labor should wield
over him a rod entirely black, the profession of a
mason was chosen by Hugh Miller, in the hope
that in the amusement of one half the year, he
should find compensation for the toils of the other
half. Just turned seventeen, Miller enters the
quarry of Cromarty, the mason's of his native place
combining both occupations. Now he is about to
reap the first fruits of his prolonged excursions
with Uncle Sandy. The quarry was an upper
member of that formation known to geologists as
the Lower Old Ked Sandstone, and here Hugh
Miller soon discovered the same phenomena he
had witnessed on the sea-beach, when laid bare by
the ebb tides. His own description of the scenes
and circumstances in which his first day of toil was
passed is highly fascinating :

" A heap of loose fragments which had fallen
from above, blocked up the face of the quarry, and
my first employment was to clear them away.
The friction of the shovel soon blistered my hands,
.but the pain was by no means very severe, and I

STORY OF HUGH MILLER1 S EARLY DAYS. 251

wrought hard and willingly, that I might see how
the huge strata below, which presented so firm
and unbroken a frontage, were to be torn up and
removed. Picks, and wedges, and levers, were
applied by my brother-workmen ; and simple and
rude as I had been accustomed to regard these
implements, I found I had much to learn in the
way of using them. They all proved inefficient,
however, and the workmen had to bore into
one of the inferior strata, and employ gunpowder.
The process was new to me, and I deemed it a
highly amusing one ; it had the merit, too, of
being attended with some such degree of danger
as a boating or rock excursion, and had thus an
interest independent of its novelty. We had a
few capital shots : the fragments flew in every
direction ; and an immense mass of the diluvium
came toppling down, bearing with it two dead
birds, that in a recent storm had crept into one 01
the deeper fissures, to die in the shelter. I felt a
new interest in examining them. The one was a
pretty cock-goldfinch, with its hood of vermilion,
and its wings inlaid with the gold to which it o\ves
its name, as unsoiled and smooth as if it had been
preserved for a museum. The other, a somewhat
rarer bird, of the woodpecker tribe, was variegated
with light-blue and a grayish-yellow. I was engaged
in admiring the poor little things, more disposed to
be sentimental, perhaps, than if I had been ten
years older, and thinking of the contrast between
the warmth and jollity of their green summer

252* MEX WHO HAV3 HIS EN.

haunts, and the cold and darkness of their last re-
treat, when I heard our employer bidding the
workmen lay by their tools. I looked up and saw
the sun sinking behind the thick fir wood beside us,
and the long dark shadows of the trees stretching
downwards towards the shore.

" This was no very formidable beginning of the
course of life I had so much dreaded. To be sure,
my hands were a little sore, and I felt nearly as
much fatigued as if I had been climbing among
the rocks; but I had wrought and been useful,
and had yet enjoyed the day fully as much as
usual. It was no small matter, too, that the even-
ing, converted, by a rare transmutation, into the
delicious 'blink of rest' which Burns so truth-
fully describes, was all my own. I was as light
of heart next morning as any of my brother-work-
men. There had been a smart frost during the
night, and the rime lay white on the grass as we
passed onwards through the fields ; but the sun
rose in a clear atmosphere, and the day mel-
lowed, as it advanced, into one of those delightful
days of early spring, which give so pleasing an
earnest of whatever is mild and genial in the bet-
ter half of the year. All the workmen rested at
mid-day, and I went to enjoy my half-hour alone
on a mossy knoll in the neighboring wood, which
commands through the trees a wide prospect ol
the bay and the opposite shore. There was not a
wrinkle on the water, nor a cloud in the sky, and
the branches were as moveless in the calm as if

STOKY OF iiujii MILLER'S EAKLY DAYS. 253

they had been traced on canvas. From a wooded
promontory that stretched half-way across the frith,
there ascended a thin column of smoke. It rose
straight as the line of a plummet for more than a
thousand yards, and then on reaching a thinner
stratum of air, spread out equally on every side,
like the foliage of a stately tree. Ben Wy vis rose
to the west, white with the yet un wasted snows
of winter, and as sharply denned in the clear at-
mosphere as if all its sunny slopes and blue retir-
ing hollows had been chiseled in marble. A line
of snow ran along the opposite hills ; all above
was white, and all below was purple. They
reminded me of the pretty French story, in which
an old artist is described as tasking the ingenuity
of his future son-in-law, by giving him as a subject
for his pencil a flower-piece composed of only white
flowers, of which the one half were to bear their
proper color, the other half a deep purple hue,
and yet all to be perfectly natural ; and how the
young man resolved to riddle and gained his
mistress, by introducing a transparent purple vase
into the picture, and making the light pass through
it on the flowers that were drooping over the edge.
I returned to the quarry, convinced that a very ex-
quisite pleasure may be a very cheap one, and that
the busiest employments may afford leisure enougli
to enjoy it.

" The gunpowder had loosened a large mass in
one of the inferior strata, and our first employment,
on resuming our labors, was to raise it from its

254: MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

bed. I assisted the other workmen in placing it
on edge, and was much struck by the appearance
of the platform on which it rested. The entire
surface was ridged and furrowed like a bank of
sand that had been left by the tide on hour before.
I could trace every bend and curvature, every crosj
hollow and counter ridge of the corresponding phe-
nomena; for the resemblance was no half resem-
blance— it was the thing itself; and I had observed
it a hundred and a hundred times, when sailing my
little schooner in the shallows left by the ebb.
But what had become of the waves that had thus
fretted the solid rock, or of what element had
they been composed? I felt as completely at
fault as Robinson Crusoe did on his discovering
the print of a man's foot on the sand. The even-
ing furnished me with still further cause of won-
der. We raised another block in a different part
of the quarry, and found that the area of a circular
depression in the stratum below was broken and
flawed in every direction, as if it had been the
bottom of a pool recently dried up, which had
shrunk and split in the hardening. Several large
stones came rolling down from the diluvium in
the course of the afternoon. They were of differ-
ent qualities from the sandstone below, and
from one another ; and, what was more wonderful
still, they were all rounded and water-worn, as ir
they had been tossed about in the sea, or the bed
of a river, for hundreds of years. There could
not, surely, be a more conclusive proof that the

STOKY OF HUGH MILLElt's KAKLY DAYS. 255

bank which had inclosed them so long could not
have been created on the rock on which it rested.
No workman ever manufactures a half-worn article,
and the stones were all half-worn ! And if not
the bank, why then the sandstone underneath ? I
was lost in conjecture, and found I had food
enough for thought that evening, without once
thinking of the unhappmess of a life of labor."

He had entered the school of labor with the
timidity of the yet undeveloped mind that shrinks
from grappling with the stern realities of life;
but surrounded with images of grandeur, of
beauty, and of liberty, on every side, the spirit
of the future geologist shook off the shrinking
and timidity with which it had been oppressed,
and the remembrance of those early days of toil
dictated that noble apostrophe to labor, with
which he has adorned his "Schools and School-
masters :" " Upright, self-relying toil ! Who
that knows thy solid worth and value would be
ashamed of thy hard hands and thy soiled vest-
ments, and thy obscure tasks — thy humble cot-
tage, and hard couch, and homely fare ! Save for
thee and thy lessons, man in society would every-
where sink into a sad compound of the fiend and
the wild beast, and this fallen world would be as
certainly a moral as a natural wilderness."

Though the dreaded proved imaginary, never-
theless some real evils followed his entrance upon
a life of toil. The seeds of that mysterious com-
bination of physical and mental disease whichr

256 MEX WHO HAVE K1SEN.

some forty years afterwards, did its work in so very-
terrible a manner, were sown in the quarry of
Crornarty. Wandering pains in the joints, an
oppressive feeling about the chest, frequent fits of
extreme depression of spirits, and inability to pro-
tect himself against accident, are noted as suffered
by Hugh Miller during the first months of his ap-
prenticeship. And if to these we add partial fits
of somnambulism, of which he was also at this
time the victim, we shall not be far wrong in con-
cluding that the calamity which laid him low, was
a calamity he had long silently combated. Retir-
ing from the over-wrought quarries of Cromarty,
Hugh Miller crossed the Moray Frith, and began
work in a new field. Here, by the hill of Eathie,
he discovered a liassic deposit, so amazingly rich
in organisms, that the great Alexandrian library,
with its tomes of ancient literature, the accumula-
tion of long ages, was but a meagre collection in
comparison. The working season of the mason is
now over, and the next three months are Hugh
Miller's exclusive property. In the company of a
cousin he makes a Highland tour — visits his
cousin's father-in-law in the upper district of
Strathcarron. The road to the shieling of this
aged shepherd lay through an uninhabited valley
strewed with the ruins of fallen cottages, in other
days the roof-trees of the best swordsmen in Ross.
Returned from his excursion into the interior,
Hugh Miller formed, or rather we should say re-
newed, acquaintance with an apprentice house-

STOKY OF HUGH MILLEli's EARLY DAYS. 257

painter in Cromarty. William Ross was a lad of
genius, but diffident and melancholy, Avith a fine
eye and keen relish for the beautiful and sublime,
but the joy with which the contemplation of nature
inspired his soul was overcast by the conscious-
ness that soon her raptures would be for other
eyes than his. Many a moonlight walk the two
friends took together, visiting at nightfall the
glades of the surrounding woods, and listening to
the moaning winds sweeping sullenly along the
pines. But now winter is past, and moonlight
walks and moody reveries must have an end for a
time. Spring has come again, and again Hugh
Miller girds himself for the active duties of the
stone-cutter. Before midsummer, however, work
has failed his master, and the squad is thrown out
of employment. Uncle David, during twenty-five
years an employer of labor, is compelled to be-
come a journeyman. The old man, after consider-
able effort, at length found " a brother of the earth
to give him leave to toil." Hugh Miller, too loyal
to abandon his master in the hour of adversity,
was first brought by this misfortune into contact
with the bothy system, then only in its infancy,
but now unhappily diffused over a large area of
Scotland. Bothy life, it might have been supposed,
was not likely to bring the subject of our narrative
into contact with anything save the riotous glee
and practical joking of the barrack, but it was not
so. From reason's earliest dawn until reason was
no more, Hugh Miller was ever encompassed with
17

258 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

much of the wild and supernatural. On the even-
ing of the first day passed in this new school, he
had repaired to a hay-loft, the only place of shelter
he could find. Exhausted nature found its needed
repose on a heap of straw. But, unaccustomed to
so rough a couch, he awoke at midnight, and was
looking out from a small window upon a dreary
moor, a ruinous chapel, and a solitary burying-
ground. Suddenly a light flickered among the
grave-stones, and what seemed a continuous
screaming was heard from among the tombs.
Quitting the churchyard, the light crossed the
moor in a straight line, tossed with many a wave
and flourish. In a moment the servant girls of
the mansion-house came rushing out in undress,
summoning the workmen to their assistance. Mad
Bell had broke out again. As the masons ap-
peared at the door, they were joined by the solitary
watcher from the loft. It was, however, soon dis-
covered that the maniac was already in custody.
Two men were dragging her to her own cottage.
On entering her hut, they proceeded to bind her
down to the damp earth. Hugh Miller and a
comrade successfully remonstrated — the maniac
was not bound. Mad Bell's song ceased for a
moment, and, turning a keen, scrutinizing glance
upon the youths who had spoken good for her,
she emphatically repeated the sacred text, " Blessed
are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy."

Hugh Miller had just turned twenty-one, when,
work failing in the north, he bade adieu to

STORY OF HUGH MILLEE^S EAKLY DAYS. 259

northern scenes and northern friends, and sailed
from his native town, ambitious to mate himself
with the stone-cutters of the metropolis, then re-
puted the best stone-cutters in the world. After
a four days' voyage he landed at Leith, and from
Leith proceeded to Edinburgh. "While sauntering
along Princes Street, admiring the picturesque
views with which the Scottish capital so abounds,
he is laid hold of by a slim pale lad in moleskins.
It was William Ross ; and during what remained
of that night the two friends explored the city
together. Hugh Miller found work in the vicinity
of Niddry Mill ; and beneath the shade of Niddry
Wood it was that he first became practically ac-
quainted with combinations. A reduction of
wages had produced a strike. Hugh did not be-
lieve in strikes, and predicted that the one in
which they had become involved would be a
failure. The leader of the squad more than half
admitted he was right. But to that reckless dare-
devil Charles, or Cha, as his comrades called him,
the excitement of a monster meeting on Brunts-
field Links outweighed the dictates of prudence.
So the masons marched away to the gathering
on the Links. The outdoor meeting over, a low
tavern in Canongate received the heroes from
Niddry. They were to meet again in the evening,
in one of the halls of Edinburgh, but in the tavern
they grew deaf to time, and oblivious of all con-
nected with the strike. Hugh Miller, leaving his
companions to their revel, passed the night with

260 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

his friend William Ross. William took a warm
interest in strikes, and entertained quite as san-
guine hopes about the happy influence of the prin-
ciple of union upon the British proletair as the
most ardent of French Socialists. But though
the two friends could not agree in their opinions
upon trades combinations or the value of strikes,
in the tastes and sympathies shared in common
these differences were forgotten.

The following graphic sketch of " poor Charles,"
who figures as leader in the strike, shows in a very
forcible manner how talents of no mean order are
frequently shipwrecked : " No man of the party
squandered his gains more recklessly than Charles,
or had looser notions regarding the legitimacy of
the uses to which he too often applied them.
And yet, notwithstanding, he was a generous-
hearted fellow ; and, under the influence of reli-
gious principle, would, like Burns himself, have
made a very noble man. In gradually forming
my acquaintance, with him, I was at first struck by
the circumstance that he never joined in the
clumsy ridicule with which I used to be assailed
by the other workmen. When left, too, on one
occasion, in consequence of a tacit combination
against me, to roll up a large stone to the sort of
block bench, or siege, as it is technically termed,
on which the mass had to be hewn, and as I
was slowly succeeding in doing, through dint of
very violent effort, what some two or three men
usually united to do, Charles stepped out to assist

STOKY OF HUGH MILLEIl's EAKLY DAYS. 261

me; and the combination at once broke down.
Unlike the others, too, who, while they never
scrupled to take odds against me, seemed suffi-
ciently chary of coming in contact with me singly,
lie learned to seek me out in our intervals of
labor, and to converse upon subjects upon which
we felt a common interest. He was not only an
excellent operative mechanic, but possessed also
of considerable architectural skill ; and in this
special province we found an interchange of idea
not unprofitable. He had a turn, too, for reading,
though he was by no means extensively read ; and
liked to converse about books. Nor, though the
faculty had been but little cultivated, was he de-
void of an eye for the curious in nature. On
directing his attention, one morning, to a well-
marked impression of lepidodendron, which deli-
cately fretted with its lozenge-shaped net-work
one of the planes of the stone before me, he began
to describe, with a minuteness of observation not
common among working men, certain strange
forms which had attracted his notice when em-
ployed among the gray flagstones of Forfarshire.
I long after recognized in his description that
strange crustacean of the Middle Old Red Sand-
stone of Scotland, the Pterygotus — an organism
which was wholly unknown at this time to geolo-
gists, and which is but partially known still ; and I
saw in 1838, on the publication, in its first edition,
of the ' Elements ' of Sir Charles Lyell, what he
meant to indicate by a rude sketch which he drew

262 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

on the stone before us, and which, to the base of
a semi-elipsis somewhat resembling a horse-shoe,
united an angular prolongation not very unlike
the iron stem of a pointing trowel drawn from the
handle. He had evidently seen, long ere it had
been detected by the scientific eye, that strange
ichthyolite of the Old Red system, the Cephalaspis.
His story, though he used to tell it with great
humor, and no little dramatic effect, was in
reality a very sad one. He had quarreled, when
quite a lad, with one of his fellow-workmen, and
was unfortunate enough, in the pugilistic encounter
which followed, to break his jaw-bone, and other-
wise so severely to injure him, that for some time
his recovery seemed doubtful. Flying, pursued
by the officers of the law, he was, after a few
days' hiding, apprehended, lodged in jail, tried at
the High Court of Justiciary, and ultimately sen-
tenced to three months' imprisonment. And
these three months he had to spend — for such was
the wretched arrangement of the time — in the
worst society in the world. In sketching, as he
sometimes did, for the general amusement, the
characters of the various prisoners with whom he
had associated — from the sneaking pick-pocket
and the murderous ruffian, to the simple Highland
smuggler, who had converted his grain into
whisky, with scarce intelligence enough to see
that there was aught morally wrong in the trans-
action— he sought only to be as graphic and
humorous as he could, and always with complete

STORY OF HUGH MILLER^ EARLY DAYS. 263

success. But there attached to his narratives an
unintentional moral ; and I cannot yet call them
up without feeling indignant at that detestable
practice of promiscuous imprisonment which so
long obtained in our country, and which had the
eifect of converting its jails into such complete
criminal-manufacturing institutions, that, had the
honest men of the community risen and dealt by
them as the Lord-George-Gordon mob dealt with
Newgate, I hardly think they would have been
acting out of character. Poor Charles had a
nobility in his nature which saved him from being
contaminated by what was worst in his meaner
associates ; but he was none the better for his
imprisonment, and he quitted jail, of course, a
marked man ; and his after career was, I fear, all
the more reckless in consequence of the stain im-
parted at this time to his character. He was as
decidedly a leader among his brother workmen as
I myself had been, when sowing my wild oats,
among my school-fellows ; but society in its
settled state, and in a country such as ours, allows
no such scope to the man as it does to the boy ;
and so his leadership, dangerous both to himself
and his associates, had chiefly, as the scene of its
trophies, the grosser and more lawless haunts of
vice and dissipation. His course through life
was a sad, and, I fear, a brief one. When that
sudden crash in the commercial world took place,
in which the speculation mania of 1824-25 ter-
minated, he was, with thousands more, thrown

264 MEN WHO HAVE BISKS'.

out of employment ; and, having saved not a
farthing of his earnings, he was compelled, under
the pressure of actual want, to enlist as a soldier
into one of the regiments of the line, bound for one
of the intertropical colonies. And there, as his old
comrades lost all trace of him, he too probably fell
a victim, in an insalubrious climate, to old habits
and new rum."

With bitter grief, Hugh Miller discovered that
his early companion, William Ross, was fast losing
confidence in his own powers — the shadow of the
cypress shed its sadness into his soul. In reply to
an effort to rally him, with characteristic modesty
he exclaimed : " Ah, Miller ! what matters it about
me ? You have stamina in you, and will force your
way, but I want strength ; the world will never
hear of me." The prophecy was all too surely and
too swiftly realized. But a little while, and that
thin, pale, fair-haired, flat-chested, stooping figure,
already a drooping and withered flower, has quietly
dropped into the grave, and his one friend on earth
sighs for " the touch of a vanished hand, and the
sound of a voice that is still."

When Hugh Miller was working as an operat-
ive mason at Niddry, not London itself was the
centre of a greater literary activity than the Scot-
tish capital. Yet, though living in the light of
that galaxy of genius which then shed so great a
lustre over Scotland, he was never fortunate
enough to catch a glimpse of either Jeffrey or
Wilson. Dugald Stewart or Sir Walter Scott.

STORY OF HUGH MILLERS EAKLY DAYS. 265

His personal recollections dating from this period
(with the single exception of the historian of Knox
and Melville) embrace none of the celebrities of
the metropolis. When leaving Cromarty, the
last injunction of his uncle was, "Be sure and
visit Dr. M'Crie's Church when in Edinburgh."
The precept was obeyed. Much has since been
said and written about Thomas M'Crie, but the
most impressive picture of that thin, spare, semi-
military, semi-ecclesiastical figure, with an air of
melancholy spreading its soft shadow upon his
countenance, has been painted by Hugh Miller.

After about a couple of years of labor in Edin-
burgh, the subject of our narrative felt premoni-
tions of that disease of the lungs and chest which
has made the stone-cutters of the metropolis a
short-lived race. To recruit his exhausted ener-
gies, he resolved to revisit his birthplace; and
after a somewhat tedious voyage, he again sets
foot on the beach of his native town. On his
return to Cromarty, Hugh Miller found an old
companion, one of a band he had long led in days
of youthful frolic, relinquishing superior com-
mercial prospects for the work of the ministry ;
and to the influence of this reunion and disin-
terested example did he trace it that now religion's
tranquil star shed over his soul its selectest in-
fluence. For some months after his return to
Cromarty, he continued in delicate and indifferent
health. Not a moment too soon had he made his
escape from the stone-cutter's malady. When
12

266 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

health was again somewhat established, he set
about executing sculptured tablets and tombstones
— a kind of work in which he excelled. But a
sufficiency of this species of employment not being
found in Cromarty, he visited Inverness. Here
his skill as a stone-cutter received the promptest
recognition; and while his days were given to
toil, his nights were employed in preparing a
volume of poetry for the press. The volume of
verse did little else for his fame than bring him
into contact with Mr. Carruthers, editor of the
Inverness Courier. Mr. Carruthers introduced
him to the late Principal Baird, and, at his
suggestion, that most delightful of all Hugh
Miller's works, his " Schools and Schoolmasters,"
was planned and written. About this time, also,
it was he made the acquaintance of the late Sir
Thomas Dick Lauder. He likewise, now, became
known to certain young ladies, and especially to
Miss Lydia Mackenzie Frazer.

A branch of the Commercial Bank having been
opened in Cromarty, Hugh Miller was appointed
accountant. To gain the necessary experience,
he was sent to one of the branches of the Com-
mercial at Linlithgow. At first he was a little
awkward in his new vocation, but, having mastered
the central princple, around which the details
grouped themselves, he suddenly shot up into an
accomplished accountant. During the first year
of his accountantship, " Scenes and Legends of
the North of Scotland " appeared, wherein he says:

STOKY OF HUGH MILLEIi's EARLY DAYS. 267

— "There is no personage of real life who can be
more properly regarded as a hermit of the church-
yard than the itinerant sculptor, who wanders front
one country burying-ground to another, recording
on his tablets of stone the tears of the living and
the worth of the dead. If possessed of a common
portion of feeling and imagination, he cannot fail
of deeming his profession a school of benevolence
and poetry. For my own part, I have seldom
thrown aside the hammer and trowel of the stone-
mason for the chisel of the itinerant sculptor, with-
out receiving some fresh confirmation of the opinion.
How often have I suffered my mallet to rest on
the unfinished epitaph, when listening to some
friend of the buried expatiating with all the
eloquence of grief on the mysterious warning and
the sad death-bed — on the worth that had departed,
and the sorrow that remained behind ! How often,
forgetting that I was merely an auditor, have I so
identified myself with the mourner, as to feel my
heart swell and my eyes becoming moist ! Even
the very aspect of a solitary churchyard seems
conducive to habits of thought and feeling. I
have risen from my employment to mark the
shadow of tombstone and burial mound creeping
over the sward at my feet, and have been rendered
serious by the reflection, that as those gnomons of
the dead marked out no line of hours, though the
hours passed as the shadows moved, so, in that
eternity in which even the dead exist, there is a
nameless tide of continuity, but no division of

268 MEN WHO HAVE

time. I have become sad, when, lo oking on the
green mounds around me, I have regarded them
as waves of triumph which time and death had
rolled over the wreck of man; and the feeling has
been deepened, when, looking down with the eye
of imagination through this motionless sea of
graves, I have marked the sad remains of both
the long departed and the recent dead, thickly
strewed over the bottom. I have grieved above
the half-soiled shroud of her for whom the tears of
bereavement had not yet been dried up, and sighed
over the mouldering bones of him whose very
name had long since perished from the earth."

During the second year of his accountantship,
Lydia Mackenzie Fraser became Mrs. Miller ; and
in order to supplement his income, which did not
noAV look quite so large as once it would have
done, the bank accountant began to write for the
periodicals. " Wilson's Tales of the Borders," and,
subsequently, " Chambers's Edinburgh Journal,"
were enriched with frequent contributions from
his pen. The period had, however, now come
when Hugh Miller was to be drawn aside from
the serene walks of literature and science, into the
stormy arena of ecclesiastical polemics. The great
Non-intrusion controversy was at its height. The
House of Lords had decided the Auchterarder
case. A sleepless night passed by Mr. Miller
after learning that decision resulted in " A Letter
from one of the Scotch People to the Right Hon.
Lord Brougham." This brochure was no sooner

STOKY OF HUGH MILLEIt's EARLY DAYS. 269

published, than it was pronounced one of the
ablest appeals from the popular side of the Church
which the controversy had produced. Its racy
English was enjoyed by O'Connell, and even Mr.
Gladstone pronounced a fervid eulogium on its
surpassing merits. Stimulated at once by his own
intense interest in the question, and by the notice
his first pamphlet attracted, a second, quite equal
to the first, was quickly ready. These pamphlets
were his passports to the position he was about to
be called to occupy in Edinburgh.

The Non-intrusion leaders were in quest of an
editor for a paper they were about to start in
the metropolis ; and no sooner had one of the most
distinguished of them read those rare tractates?
than with characteristic promptitude he exclaimed,
" Here is the man for our Witness." A letter to
the bank accountant was dispatched from Edin-
burgh, summoning him to a conference with the
leading Non-intrusionists ; Hugh Miller repaired
to the Scottish capital, accepted the editorship of
the projected journal, and terminated his engage-
ment with the Commercial Bank. Thus it came
to pass, that he who in early life felt no call to
become a minister of the Church, now, in the
maturity of his power, voluntarily assumes the
onerous position of defender of the Church's most
sacred spiritual privileges. It is no purpose of
this sketch to enter upon the discussion of vexed
questions in Church controversy ; we are ready to
acknowledge that widely different opinions may

270 MEN WHO HATE KISEN.

be formed upon the justness of the principles for
which Hugh Miller contended, and to the advo-
cacy of which the Witness was devoted. There
can, however, be only one opinion respecting the
great and peculiar ability which he brought to the
defense and vindication of the principles of his
party. Nor, while remembering and recording
this fact, must it be forgotten that the Witness
newspaper has ever been something very different
from a merely ecclesiastical organ. Hugh Miller
brought to his editorial labors a mind imbued
with the noblest literature of England. His per_
feet familiarity with the great masters of English
prose gave to all his works that charm of style for
which they are so remarkable. In the literature
of the Scottish Legend, he rivaled Hogg ; and as
a geologist, he at once took his place beside the
Bucklands and the Murchisons, the Sedgwicks
and the Lyells. From all these varied sources he
drew at will treasures new and old, wherewith to
enrich the columns of the journal with which, for
the last sixteen years of his life, his name was
identified. If there were brother editors his
superiors in that prompt concentration of mental
power which enables the journalist to write well
upon the topic of the hour, we know no journalist,
either Scottish or English, who has furnished a
series of leading articles, on nearly every conceiv-
able topic within the range of newspaper criticism,
so distinguished at once by imaginative, logical,
and high literary power. By turns humorous,

271

satirical, and poetical, ever instructive and ever
entertaining, the stamp of intense individuality is
upon them all. Latterly, under a benevolent im-
pulse, he took the field as a lecturer. On his first
appearance in this new capacity, his chairman
was the Duke of Argyle — a nobleman who, ever
since Mr. Miller's introduction to the British
Association, cherished for him the highest con-
sideration. Like Burns, who, casting from him
the poor sixpence a-day, served zealously 'as a
volunteer, whatever oral services he could render
his countrymen were rendered gratuitously. At
length, however, this continuous and multifarious
toil proved too much. Even with prolonged periods
of nearly complete cessation from the labors of
the journalist, he did not rally as formerly. He
had been forbidden all mental exertion by his
medical advisers during the latter months of 1856 ;
but " The Testimony of the Rocks " kept him in
harness until the middle of December. The last
sheets of the work had been corrected, and its
author had begun to rejoice in his completed toil,
when the same enemy that so mysteriously pros-
trated the stripling in the quarry of Cromarty,
menaced the sage with seven-fold fury. In dreams
and visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth
upon men, horrible spectres haunt his pillow —
reason reels — he feels as if ridden by witches, and
rises from his couch more wearied than he lay
down. These painful and ominous symptoms in-
duced Mrs. Miller to request the kind friend, whose

272 MEN WHO HAVE iilSEX.

professional attentions are so touchingly alluded to
in the dedication of" The Testimony of the Rocks,"
to visit her husband. The visit of the genial and
accomplished Professor exerted the happiest in-
fluence, and the evening was spent quietly with
his family. During tea, Mr. Miller read aloud
Cowper's " Castaway," and the sonnet to Mary
Unwin. A little while afterwards he went up
stairs to his study. At the appointed hour he
took the bath his medical adviser recommended,
but the medicine prescribed he did not take.
Next morning his body was found lying lifeless on
the floor — the feet upon the study rug — the chest
pierced with the ball of a revolver, which had
fallen into the bath by his side. On looking
round the room, a folio sheet of paper was dis-
covered on the table, and on the centre of the
page the following lines were written :

" DEAREST LYDIA : — My brain burns. I must
have walked, and a fearful dream rises upon me.
I cannot bear the horrible thought. God and
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon
me ! Dearest Lydia, dear children, farewell. My
brain burns as the recollection grows. My dear
wife, farewell. HUGH MILLER."

" 0 life, as futile then as frail —

O for thy voice to soothe and bless !
What hope of answer or redress
Behind the veil, behind the veil ? '*

In awe and mystery we stand by the grave of
genius, thus suddenly disappearing from the scene

STOUT OF UUGII MILLEfi's EARLY DAYS. 273

o? its triumphs, rather disposed to meditate in
silence than read aloud the lessons to be learned
there. Mr. Miller's concluding words in " The
Story of my Education" convey, however, the most
appropriate lesson which could be given in such
a volume as this. He says : " In looking back
upon my youth, I see, methinks, a wild fruit tree,
rich in leaf and blossom; and it is mortifying
enough to mark how very few of the blossoms
have set, and how diminutive and imperfectly
formed the fruit is into which even the productive
few have been developed. A right use of the
opportunities of instruction afforded me in early
youth would have made me a scholar ere my
twenty-fifth year, and have saved to me at least ten
of the best years of life — years which were spent
in 'obscure and humble occupations. But while
my story must serve to show the evils which re-
sult from truant carelessness in boyhood, and that
what was sport to the young lad may assume the
form of serious misfortune to the man, it may also
serve to show that much may be done by after
diligence, to retrieve an early error of this kind —
that life itself is a school, and nature always a
fresh study — and that the man who keeps his
eyes and his mind open will always find fitting,
though, it may be, hard schoolmasters, to speed
him on in his life-long education."

And now, before closing this brief narrative, the
reader will perhaps pardon us for interposing a cor-
rection of a mischievous misreading of that lesson.
18

274: MEN" WHO HAVE RISEN.

which has, in some quarters, obtained currency.
Hugh Miller, it is said, fell the victim of a
baffled ambition and an austere theology. His
grand effort to reconcile geology with Genesis had
failed, and the consciousness of that failure was
the cause of the eclipse in which reason and life
were extinguished. So the terrible tragedy of the
24th December, 1856, is interpreted. To such as
possess any true conception of his character, the
interpretation must be eminently unsatisfactory.
That the precise mode in which science and reve-
lation might be harmonized, presented no diffi-
culties to Hugh Miller, we do not affirm. But,
while quite aware the theory on which he lavished
the riches of his imagination was open to question
— had, indeed, been already questioned — the hopes
inspired by the book of God never wavered.
While exploring the abysmal depths of his favor-
ite study, heaven's own light still shed its supernal
splendors over his spirit, and in quite another than
a despondent mood did he contemplate the ter-
mination of his labors upon " The Testimony of
the Rocks." The doubt with which the discords
of nature inspire some minds did not perplex his.
Through all the mists of scientific speculation, the
eternal pole-star still remained for him an authen-
tic luminary. No scrap of writing, no word
breathed even in the ear of friendship, warrants
the conclusion to which grave and able editors
have not scrupled to rush. We have said that
the seeds of the malady which prostrated Hugh

STORY OK HUGH MILLEJi's EARLY DAYS. 275

Miller were sown in the quarry of Cromarty ; per-
haps it had been more correct to have said, that
there they received their first marked develop-
ment. If the matter was completely investigated,
we suspect that a constitutional tendency to cere-
bral disease would be found to have existed. For
some six or seven years he had been complaining
that he no longer worked as he was wont to do.
With double toil, but half the results of earlier,
better days, could now be produced. The jaded
spirit was spurred to its tasks under the pressure
of motives whose force the noblest minds alone
can feel. Remonstrances of affection and predic-
tions of physicians were alike unheeded. Nothing
was feared until, suddenly, the dread of a calamity
no longer to be concealed precipitated the very
catastrophe from which he recoiled. A clearer
case of cerebral disorder does not exist. That,
with the warnings received, he should have con-
tinued unawakened to the perils of his position, only
shows how sometimes the best of men, absorbed in
special pursuits, may neglect what is of unspeak-
able importance to remember. In his eagerness
to read the wondrous story of an earlier world,
Hugh Miller forgot he was himself fearfully and
wonderfully made. Over all men the natural and
organic laws assert paramount authority. A man
so constitued as Hugh Miller was ever in imminent
and peculiar peril from their transgression; yet
the peril was put far from him, and every monition
of its approach, even while confessed, was un-

276 MEH WHO HAVE KISEN.

heeded. He could warn brother editors of the
dangers of overwork, yet by a singular fatality he
himself continued to burn the midnight oil. Thus
it came to pass, that he who had done for the
geology what Burns had done for the songs of
Scotland, perished in the meridian of his powers.

LINKEIJS, THE NATUKALIST.

LIKE many other men of genius, Linnaeus was
of humble origin. He could not boast a noble
parentage ; he did not in any degree owe his fame
to the rank and wealth of his connections. His
ancestors were obscure peasants ; his father was
an humble Christian pastor in the village of
Rashult, in the province of Smaland, in Sweden,
where, on the 23d of May, 1707, the celebrated
naturalist was born. The original family name
was Nils ; but the father of Linnaeus, being the
first member of a learned profession known to be-
long to his line, had, in accordance with a custom
prevalent in Sweden, changed his family name
with his profession. That he now adopted was
borrowed from a large Linden-tree which grew in
the vicinity of his native place. Charles was des-
tined for the church, but he early showed that
passion for flowers — that ardent thirst for the
beauties of nature, which shaped his subsequent
career. A patch of the garden was assigned to

278 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

him, in dressing which, Charles spent many of the
sunny hours of his boyhood. Cultivating tho-
little nook in his father's garden, the genius and
tastes of the boy were developed ; and we fancy
him bending with fond delight over one favorite
flower bursting into bloom, or with intense
anxiety gazing on another about to droop and die.
When seven years of age he was sent to school.
His first teacher was no ornament to his profes-
sion. At this school Charles acquired but little.
At his second — the grammar-school at Wexio, a
town adjoining his native village — he was by no
means noted for his diligence and proficiency.
The fields were his study — flowers, fruits, and in-
sects, the objects of his first love. Hence, instead
of attending to the tasks prescribed to him, he
spent his time in rambling over the country ; and
though his teacher discovered in him some traits
of genius, he was regarded by his schoolfellows as
a truant.

At the age of seventeen, he entered the upper
college at Wexio, where his deficiencies as a clas-
sic were quickly detected, and threatened with
severe and summary punishment. The same con-
stitutional tendency still held sway; the books
were neglected, the fields were frequented. Com-
plaints were made to his father, who, convinced
that his son would never prosper as a divine,
resolved to apprentice him to a, shoemaker.

Through the timely interference of a medical
professor in the College of Wexio, who had saga-

LINXJ2U8, THE NATURALIST.

city enough to detect tho buddings of genius in
the mind of Charles Linnaeus, this purpose was
fortunately abandoned. This man, whose name
was Dr. John Rothmann, offered to take him
under his charge for a year, and to supply all his
necessary wants. As natural history Avas not
likely to prove a very paying study, it was resolved
also that Charles should qualify himself for the
practice of medicine. Under the roof of this
medical professor, he had ample means of enlarg-
ing his information; and that, too, upon the par-
ticular department of science to which he was
devoted. Here he remained till he was about
twenty, when he entered the university of Lund.
On quitting his first college, the rector gave him a
testimonial in these most appropriate terms : —
"Students may be compared to the trees of a
nursery. Often among the young plants are found
some which, notwithstanding the care that has
been bestowed, resemble wild shoots ; but, if
transplanted at a later period, they change their
nature, and sometimes bear delicious fruit. With
this hope I send this young man to the university,
where another climate may prove favorable to his
progress." At this new seminary, under the kind
care of the professor of medicine and botany,
Linna3us made great improvement, enjoying as he
did numerous facilities for cultivating his favorite
tastes. He afterwards entered the University of
Upsal, where he had to encounter many of those
privations with which the student has so often to

280 MEN WHO HAVE RISEK.

struggle. He was, in fact, chiefly dependent for
food and clothing on the charity of his college
companions.

At this time an event happened, most favorable
to his views and pursuits. The bleak and barren
regions of Lapland had been less explored than
any of the Swedish provinces. A society vras
instituted at TJpsal, chiefly with the view of making
inquiry regarding the natural productions of that
kingdom. By this association he was chosen to
make this inquiry. He has left us an account of
the manner in which he was equipped when he set
out on his expedition. "My clothes," says he,
" consisted of a light coat of West Gothland lin-
sey-woolsey cloth, without folds, lined with red
shalloon, having small cuffs and collar of shag ;
leather breeches ; a round wig ; a green leather
cap ; and a pair of half-boots. I carried a small
leather bag, half an ell in length but somewhat
less in breadth, furnished on one side with hooks
and eyes, so that it could be opened and shut at
pleasure. This bag contained one shirt ; two pair
of false sleeves; two half-shirts; an inkstand,
pen-case, microscope, and spying-glass ; a gauze
cap, to protect me occasionally from the gnats ; a
comb ; my journal, and a parcel of paper stitched
together for drying plants, both in folio ; my manu-
script Ornithology, Flora Uplandica, and Charac-
teres Generic!. I wore a hanger at my side, and
carried a small fowling-piece, as well as an octan-
gular stick for the purpose of measuring. My

LENTOSUS, THE KATHRALIST. 28J

pocket-book contained a pass-port from the Gov-
ernor of Upsal, and a recommendation from the

Academy."

Thus, somewhat grotesquely accoutred, with a
few of the necessaries, but none of the luxuries, for
such an expedition, did Linnaeus start for the cold
regions of Lapland. After great privations and
untiring industry, his mission proved eminently
successful.

Returning to Upsal, the members of the Royal
Academy of Sciences evinced their sense of the
worth of his services by choosing him as one of its
members; and in 1775 he commenced a course of
lectures on botany, chemistry, and mineralogy. As
he had not yet taken his degree, his doing this was
contrary to the statutes of the university : he was
accordingly dragged before its senate, and for-
bidden to continue his lectures. His prospects in
connection with the University of Upsal being for
the time blasted, Linnaeus, along with some of his
pupils, visited the province of Dalecarlia, with the
view of making fresh discoveries in mineralogy
and botany. While resident in Fahlun, the capi-
tal of the province, he became acquainted writh one
of its most eminent physicians, whose name was
Morseus, and who, in addition to his professional
distinction was reputed as one of the wealthiest
individuals in the district. The physician had two
daughters, with the oldest of whom Linnaeus fell
violently in love. The lady did not object, but,
on the contrary, thought she could never give her

MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

hand to one worthier of it. The old man, how-
ever, was more difficult to please. When the
future son-in-law mustered courage to moot the
question to Dr. Morseus, he was given to under-
stand that, though there were no objections on the
score of character, his present circumstances and
future prospects were scarcely all that could be
wished. His answer to Linnseus was to this effect :
that should he obtain his diploma, and in the
course of three years thereafter succeed in estab-
lishing for himself a respectable practice, he should
have the hand of his favorite Sarah. The terms
were by no means unreasonable ; but as Swedish
students at this time required to take their degree
at some foreign university, this involved an ex-
pense too heavy for our botanist. Miss Morseus,
however, had contrived to save a considerable sum
off the pocket-money allowed her by her father,
which was placed at her lover's disposal. This, in
addition to his own earnings, enabled him to ac-
complish the desired object. After visiting his
friends and the grave of his mother, who had died
some months previous, preparing his academical
dissertations, and arranging his papers, he set out
from Fahlun in the month of April, 1735, and
obtained his degree at Harderwycke. He subse-
quently visited Leyden, where he published several
of his most valuable treatises, and became ac-
quainted with Dr. Boerhaave, and many other ce-
lebrated persons. These treatises were the result
of much toil and patient research — his industry at

LINXJ2US, THE NATUEAJLIST. 283

this period almost surpassing belief. When he
had visited England and some other countries on
the Continent, he returned to Sweden; and, hav-
ing gained for himself a respectable practice — we
should say rather, having risen to the top of his
profession — he led Sarah Elizabeth, the eldest
daughter of Moraeus, to the altar of wedlock, with
the consent of all parties. Though his talents and
professional zeal would almost have secured his
success anywhere, his rapid advancement, his
several appointments to be botanist to the King
of Sweden and physician to the Admiralty, were
in some measure due to his having completely
cured Queen Eleonora of a cough, which had for
some tune troubled her Majesty.

He was subsequently appointed to one of the
medical chairs in the University of Upsal, and was
afterwards made professor of botany — a situation
most congenial to his taste, and for which we need
not say, he was admirably qualified. Thus was
awarded to him an honor, which, we may believe,
of all others he most coveted — an honor, however,
no more than the just reward of the zeal he had
displayed in the prosecution of his studies.

Linna3us had his own share of bodily ailments.
He suffered much, especially towards the close of
his career, from repeated attacks of rheumatism
and gout. He may be said to have fallen, as
heroes of every name rejoice to fall, at his post ;
for, after an attack of apoplexy, with which he was
seized when delivering one of his lectures in the

284: MEN WHO HAVE ETSEX.

Botanical Garden, he never recovered his strength.
The period of second childhood came. The ac-
complished Linnaeus ceased to recognize his own
works, and, it is said, even forgot his name. He
died on the 10th of January, 1778, having ex-
ceeded by about one year, the threescore and ten.
The following is his own account of his personal
appearance : " The head of Linnoeus had a re-
markable prominence behind, and was transversely
depressed at the lambdoid suture. His hair was
white in infancy, afterwards brown, in old age,
grayish. His eyes were hazel, lively, and pene-
trating ; their power of vision exquisite. His fore-
head was furrowed in old age. He had an oblit-
erated wart on the right cheek, and another on
the corresponding side of the nose. His teeth
were unsound, and, at an early age, decayed from
hereditary toothache."

The department of science to which Linnaeus de-
voted himself has a charm for almost every mind.
While insects are humming around us, and flowers
sending their fragrance across our path, his name
is not likely to be forgotten. He was a prince
among naturalists, as Newton and Kepler were
among astronomers.

SMEATCOT, THE ENGUSTEEK.

THE simple means which men of genius find to
bring the wonderful faculties with which they are
endowed into action, is indeed a fit subject for ad-
miration. He who has music in himself imparts it
to some rude instrument of his own construction ;
a burned stick has been known to be the first im-
plement with which a gifted artist has practiced
his divine art ; and, as in the case of Giotti, as he
watched his flocks, the faithless sand has supplied
the first tablet to which his sketches have been
transmitted. Handel, in his childhood, was pro-
hibited from heaiing a note of music, and it was
by stolen snatches that this sublime genius found
vent for the inspiration which was to charm the
world. Everything was done to repress the pas-
sionate love of his art, which Michael Angelo
Buonarotti evinced from his earliest days. The
father of Sir Joshua Reynolds was seriously dis-
pleased with him when he discovered the draw-
ings which he had made on his exercise-book.

286 MEN WHO HAVE EISEK.

The reproof which he gave the boy remained in
black and white on the copy-book, long after Sir
Joshua had attained the highest eminence —
" Done by Joshua out of pure idleness." Watt
was very sharply rebuked by his aunt, one even-
ing at the tea-table, for his " listless idleness," as
she observed him taking off the lid of the kettle,
and putting it on again — now holding a cup, and
then a silver spoon over the steam, as it issued
from the spout, and reckoning the drops of water
into which it was condensed. Little did the gocd
lady think, when she chided the " troublesome brat,"
that he was taking his first hints for the applica-
tion of the mighty power which was to produce
such momentous changes in the world, and by
which his name was to be immortalized.

The genius of John Smeaton, the great engineer
appeared from his earliest infancy, and was not
at ah1 in accordance with his father's plans for
his advancement. When a child in petticoats, he
might be seen dividing circles and squares. He
rejected all the toys in which children delight, se-
lecting for his playthings the tools with which he
fashioned models of machines. But his greatest
enjoyment was to watch men at work, and ask
them questions. When about six years old, he
was one day missed, and, on being searched for,
was at last found, to the terror of his father and
mother, mounted on the roof of a barn, fixing up
a windmill of his own construction. It was at
about the same period that he watched with great

SMEATON, THE ENGINEER. 287

interest the progress of some men who were fixing
a pump in the neighborhood. Having procured
from them a piece of bored pipe, he determined he
would have a pump of his own. He succeeded in
making one which could raise water. There were
heavy complaints made against " Master John"
for destroying the fish hi the ponds with his mo-
dels of machines for raising water from one to the
other. His daughter, in alluding to his infant
days, speaks of his career having been one of in-
cessant labor, front six years old to sixty. At
school he had to give his attention, during the
day, to his exercises ; but at night, while others
slept, he resumed his favorite pursuit. When
about fourteen, he had made for himself an engine
to turn rose-work ; and bestowed boxes of ivory
and wood, turned by himself, on his acquaintances.
A friend of his, who was destined for a mechanical
employment, was perfectly astonished, when he
went on a visit to him, to see all that he had ac-
complished. He forged his iron and steel, and
melted his metal himself. He had made tools of
every kind for working in wood, ivory, and metals.
He had made a lathe, by which he had cut a per-
petual screw in brass — a thing little known at that
time. He had manufactured an extensive set of
tools, with which he worked in most of the me-
chanical trades — genius and industry more than
supplying the place of the instruction of which he
had never had advantage.

His father was an attorney, and intended him

288 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

for the bar. He went up to London to attend
the courts, but his heart lay in those pursuits by
which he became so distinguished. Longing to
devote himself exclusively to them, he wrote
strongly to his father on the subject, who wisely
acceded to his wishes, and allowed him to turn
to that profession for which nature herself seemed
to have intended him — a profession embracing all
that is most useful in science, and calling into ac-
tion some of the noblest attributes of man — energy
and judgment, forethought and patience. The
wonderful ingenuity of invention which he ap-
plied to machinery of various kinds, and the im-
provements which he introduced in the construc-
tion and working of mills, were of incalculable
benefit. His industry was equal to his ability.
Ever ardent in desire for improvement, he went to
Holland and the Lower Countries, for the purpose
of inspecting the works of art, and traveled 011
foot.

An opportunity was soon to occur to bring his
great abilities into notice. The Eddystone Light-
house, which had been swept away by the memor-
able storm of the 26th of November, 1703, had
been rebuilt, but was again destroyed by a fatal
catastrophe. It happened on the 2d of December*
1755, that some fishermen went to prepare their
nets at a very early hour in the morning. They
were much startled on perceiving volumes of
flame issuing from the Eddystone Light-house.
They instantly gave the alarm, and a neighbor-

S1IEATON, THE ENGINEER. 280

ing gentleman sent out a boat and men to re-
lieve the sufferers, if they were still in life. They
did not reach the light-house till about ten o'clock.
The fire had now been racing for about eight hours.
It was first discovered by the light-keeper upon
watch, who went into the lantern at about two
o'clock, to snuff the candles. He found the place
filled with smoke, and, on opening the door of the
lantern into the balcony, flames issued from the
cupola. It was some time before his companions
heard him call for assistance, as they had been all
asleep. By the time they reached him, all the
water left in the buckets at hand was expended.
He urged his companions to fill them again from
the sea; but the difficulty of getting it from such
a height, and their confusion and terror, rendered
them quite powerless. The poor light-keeper —
now in his ninety-fourth year — continued to make
the most wonderful exertions ; but, completely
exhausted by the unavailing labor, and the severe
injuries which he had received from the melting
lead, he was obliged to desist. The three men
Avho were with him, terrified by his miserable sit- -
ation, and the extreme agonies he was suffering
were quite incapacitated. As the fire approached
them more nearly, they rushed into one of the
lower rooms, to delay the horrible doom which
threatened them, even for a few moments. When
the boatmen reached them, they found the poor
sufferers crouching together in a kind of cave, or
rather hole on the east side of the rock, just under
19

WHO HATE RISEIT.

the iron ladder. They had contrived to reach
this cleft, into which they crept to escape the fall-
ing timbers and red-hot bolts. It was with the
greatest difficulty they were got off. They had
no sooner reached the shore, than one of the poor
men, no doubt crazed by the terrors which he had
undergone, ran away, and was never heard of
again. The poor old man languished in great tor-
ture for about ten days, when death relieved him
from his sufferings. Soon after this dreadful dis-
aster, it was resolved that the light-house should
be rebuilt ; but some difficulty arose as to finding
a competent person to undertake such a stupen-
dous work, when Mr. Smeaton was strongly
recommended by Lord Macclesfield, president of
the Royal Society, under whose notice he had been
brought by the communications which he had
forwarded, from time to time, for the last seven
years, descriptive of improvements and inventions
of his own, remarkable for great ingenuity, and
showing ability of a very high order. Such an
impression had he made on the society, that he
svas unanimously elected one of its members.
Wilson, the painter, was deputed to announce to
Smeaton that he had been appointed to superin-
tend the great work. So unthought of was such
an offer, that Smeaton was at a loss to understand
Wilson's letter ; but, concluding that a permission
to send proposals for undertaking the work was
couched under ambiguous terms, he wrote such
an answer as showed his mistake. Another letter

SMEATON, THE ENGINEER. 291

arrived from Wilson. It was opened. There was
no possibility of misunderstanding its meaning.
" Thou art the man," was all that it said.

Every engagement was relinquished, and Mr.
Smeaton entered, with all the energy of a great
spirit, into the undertaking, and on those wild
rocks succeeded in erecting a building as remark-
able for strength and durability as it is for pic-
turesque effect — a building which is the proudest
monument with which a name can be associated.
The wild appearance of the rocks, the rushing
eddies, and the foaming waves, make the situation
of the light-house one of the most striking that can
be conceived. In three years the work was com-
plete. Of that time, it has been calculated that
there were but 431 days wJien it was possible to
stand on the rock, and so small a portion of these
was available, that the building in reality occu-
pied but six weeks. The whole was completed
without the slightest accident to any person ; and
so well and systematically arranged was the whole
conduct of the work, that neither confusion nor
delay retarded its progress for an hour. Nothing
can show the dreariness of the situation where
this building stands, more than an account of the
life which the four men lead who are appointed to
take care of it. They take the charge by two,
and are relieved by the others at the end of six
weeks, if winds and waves permit ; but it often
happens, particularly in tempestuous weather, that
no boat can touch there for many months. Salt

MEN WHO HAVE KISEN.

provisions are laid up as for a ship prepared for a
long voyage. When winds prevail, " the dash-
ing of the waves creates such a briny atmosphere,
that a man exposed to it could not draw his breath.
During such visitations, the two lonely beings
keep closely shut up in their solitary abode, living
in darkness, and listening to no sound but the
awful howling of the storm, and the wild rushing
waves, as they lash against the building." Our
respect and admiration for the consummate skill
and ability to which the success of so great an
undertaking was owing, and for the fine qualities
of mind which were essential for the endurance
of the labor and fatigue with which it was accom-
plished, have given a deep interest to whatever
we have chanced to meet with relative to Mr.
Smeaton. He was just thirty-five years of age
when the light-house was finished. By his promp-
titude and skillful measures, London Bridge was
saved from falling, when its destruction appeared
inevitable. He made the river Calder navigable
— a work that could only have been achieved by
the greatest judgment and skill, as its floods were
frightfully impetuous. He planned and superin-
tended the execution of the great canal in Scot-
land, for conveying the trade of the country either
to the Atlantic or German Ocean. He applied
his own improvements and inventions to the con-
structing of mills, and a great variety of works.
Moderate in his desires and temperate in his
habits, he had no wish to amass jjreat wealth, and

SAIEATOX, THE ENGINEER. 293

declined splendid offers from the Empress of Rus-
sia, made through the Princess Dashkoff. She
earnestly desired his superintendence over the
great national works which she had in contempla-
tion, and would have secured it at any cost. He
felt that his own country had the first claim on
him, and he declined the offer. " You are a great
man, sir," said the Princess, " and I honor you.
I doubt whether you have your equal in abilities,
but in character you stand certainly -single. The
English minister Sir Robert Walpole, was mis-
taken, and my sovereign has the misfortune to find
a man who has not his price." That " the abili-
ties of the individual were a debt due to the com-
mon stock of public happiness or accommodation,"
was a maxim of his, to which, on all occasions, he
acted up.

For many years of Mr. Smeaton's life, he was
a constant attendant on parliament ; and whatever
bill he supported was in almost every instance
carried. It was his invariable rule, when re-
quested to forward any measure, to make himself
thoroughly acquainted with its merits before he
would engage in it. His complete knowledge of
the subject, and the remarkable clearness with
which he expressed himself, carried great weight,
and secured the attention and confidence of all
who heard him. Lord Mansfield and others
complimented him from the bench, for the new
light which he threw on difficult subjects. His
language in speaking and writing, was so strong

MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

and perspicuous, that his meaning could never bb
mistaken, and all that was necessary for those who
worked under him was to hear what he said, and
do neither more nor less than he desired. Con-
tact with the world, which in too many instances
blunts the feelings and takes from native simpli-
city of character, has generally been found to have
a contrary effect on those engaged in pursuits
which promote the happiness and comfort of
others ; for they are almost invariably conspicuous
for simplicity of disposition and tenderness of
heart. That it was so with John Smeaton, we
have ample testimony, and none more touching
than that borne by his daughter, who says that he
was " devoted to his family with an affection so
lively, a manner at once so cheerful and serene,
that it is impossible to say whether the charms
of conversation, the simplicity of instructions, or
the gentleness with which they were conveyed,
most endeared his home — a home in which from
infancy we cannot recollect to have seen a trace
of dissatisfaction, or a word of asperity to any
one." The simple integrity of his deportment to
those of higher rank was sure to win their esteem,
and his kindness and consideration made him an
object of veneration to his inferiors. He was
highly regarded and looked up to by the members
of his own profession. The modesty which almost
always accompanies real greatness of mind must
have served to endear him to them. So little,
indeed, was he elated by his acknowledged superi-

SMEATON, THE ENGIKEEB. 295

ority, that even in his own family it was a matter
of some difficulty to lead him " to speak of himself,
his pursuits, or success." Many of his evenings
were passed, with his professional friends, in the
Society of Civil Engineers, which he had been one
of the first to form.

Early in life, Mr. Smeaton formed an intimacy
with the Duke and Duchess of Queensberry
which was curiously brought about. It happened
one evening, when he was walking in Ranelagh
with Mrs. Smeaton, that he observed an elderly
lady (who was the eccentric Duchess of Queens-
berry) looking at him with evident interest. After
some time, Mr. and Mrs. Smeaton stopped, and
the lady advanced, and addressed Mr. Smeaton :
" Sir," said she, " I don't know who you are, or
what you are ; but you resemble my poor dear
Gay so strongly that we must be acquainted.
You must come home and sup with us ; and if the
minds of the two men accord, us do their coun-
tenances, you will find two cheerful old folks, wrho
can love you well ; and I think — or you are a
hypocrite — you well deserve it." An invitation
so oddly given was as frankly accepted, and for
the remainder of his life the warmest friend-
hip subsisted between them, and in their society
Mr. Smeaton found his most agreeable relaxa-
tion.

It was the intention of Mr. Smeaton, whenever
he could find time, to publish an account of his
various inventions and the works in which he

296 MEN \Y110 HATE RISEN.

had been engaged. In the year 1785, his de-
clining health suggested that the time was come
when he might relinquish more active occupa-
tion, and that it was a fitting period for putting
his intention into execution, and he felt that
he could not set about anything which could
be more useful. But he could not resist the
solicitations of his friends, who urged him to
take the superintendence of various works. He
was so warmly pressed to accept the place of
engineer to the harbor of Ramsgate by his friend
Mr. Aubert, who was chairman, that he was unable
to refuse. As he was not able to devote himself
exclusively to preparation for his publications, as
he had wished, some valuable acquisitions to the
libraries of the scientific may have been lost ; but
after his death several works, in addition to those
which had already appeared> were published.
Among these eminently useful productions, is
" Smeaton's Reports," which ranks high as a
standard work, and is indeed a text-book wThich
none of the profession would be without.

The sad misfortune which Mr. Smeaton had
long anticipated, occurred as he was walking in
his garden, on the 16th of September, 1792 — he
was struck with palsy. The dread of outliving
his faculties, was far more distressing to him than
the thought of any bodily suffering ; but he was
happily spared the trial, and nothing could exceed
his pious thankfulness in finding his intellect unin-
jured. The tender consideration which he showed

SMEATON, THE ENGINEER. 297

for the feelings of his family on this afflicting oc-
casion served to endear him still more. He used
every means to soften the blow to them, by setting
them an example of entire resignation. Still it was
his wish to be released ; but he lingered on for
six weeks. During that interval, as we are told
by his daughter, " all his faculties and affections
were as clear and animated as ever, and he exer-
cised his ingenuity in devising means by which he
could assist himself without troubling those about
him. He occupied himself with calculations with
as much interest as before the stroke. He desired
to see all the occupations and amusements of the
family go on as usual. He took his accustomed
interest in the music and drawing, and joined in
conversation with all his wonted cheerfulness.
He sometimes fancied and lamented — what no
one else could perceive — his own slowness ; and
then he would add — with a gentle smile, 4 It could
not be otherwise — the shadow must lengthen as
the sun goes down.' A few evenings before he
died, his family were gathered about him, and one
of his children asked him about some phenomena
of the moon. He gave the required explanation
with ah1 the clearness and precision for which he
was so remarkable. While he yet spoke, the
moon shone brightly into the chamber. He
gazed on it in rapt earnestness for a few moments ;
then, turning to those about him, he said : ' How
often have I looked up to it with inquiring won-
der to that period when I shah1 have the vast and
13*

298 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

privileged view of a hereafter, and all will be com-
prehension and pleasure !' " On the 28th of Octo-
ber, 1792, in his 68th year, John Smeaton was
removed from the world, for which he had dono
so much.

RITTENHOUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN.

DAVID RiTTEiraousE was born near German-
town, Pennsylvania, April 8th, 1732. The family
originally came from Guelderland, a province in
Holland. They settled in the State of New York,
while it was a Dutch colony, and were the first
who engaged in the manufacture of paper in this
country. The father of David Rittenhouse
abandoned the occupation of a paper-maker, when
about twenty-nine years of age, and commenced
the business of a farmer, on a piece of land which
he had purchased in the township of Norriton,
about twenty miles from the city of Philadelphia.
It seems that he very early designed his son for
this useful and respectable employment. Accord-
ingly, as soon as the boy arrived at a sufficient
age to assist in conducting the affairs of the farm,
he was occupied as a husbandman. This kind
of occupation appears to have commenced at an
early period of his life. About the fourteenth
year of his age, he was employed in ploughing in

300 MEN WHO HATE EISENT.

his father's fields. His brother Benjamin relates,
that while David was thus engaged at the plough,
he (the informant), then a young boy, was fre-
quently sent to call him to his meals; at which
times he repeatedly observed, that not only the
fences at the head of many of the furrows, but
even his plough and its handles, were covered
over with chalked numerical figures. Astronomy
was a favorite pursuit. He also applied himself
industriously to the study of optics, the mechanical
powers, &c., without the advantage of the least
instruction. About the seventeenth year of his
age, he made a wooden clock of very ingenious
workmanship; and soon after, he constructed one
of the same materials that compose the common
four-and-twenty hour clock, and upon the same
principles. He had, much earlier in life, exhibited
proofs of his mechanical genius, by making, when
only seven or eight years old, a complete water-
mill in miniature.

With many valuable traits of character, old
Mr. Rittenhouse had no claims to what is termed
genius. Hence he did not properly appreciate
the early specimens of talent which appeared in
his son David. He was, for some time, opposed
to the young man's earnest desire to renounce
agricultural employments, for the purpose of
devoting himself altogether to philosophical pur-
suits, in connection with some such mechanical
profession as might best comport with useful
objects of natural philosophy, and be most likely,

RITTENHOUSE, THE ^lATHEMATICIAN. 301

at the same time, to afford him the means of a
comfortable subsistence. At length, however, the
father yielded his own inclinations, in order to
gratify what was manifestly the irresistible im-
pulse of his son's genius. He supplied him with
money to purchase, in Philadelphia, such tools as
were more immediately necessary for commencing
the clock-making business, which the son then
adopted as his profession. About the same time,
young Mr. Rittenhouse erected, on the side of a
public road, and on his father's land, in the town-
ship of Norriton, a small but commodious work-
shop ; and after having made many implements
of the trade with his own hands, to supply the
deficiency in his purchased stock, he set out in
good earnest, as a clock and mathematical instru-
ment maker. From the age of eighteen or nineteen
to twenty-five, Mr. Rittenhouse applied himself
unremittingly, both to his trade and his studies.
Employed throughout the day in his attention to
the former, he devoted much of his nights to the
latter. Indeed, he deprived himself of the neces-
sary hours of rest ; for it was his almost invariable
practice to sit up at his books until midnight,
sometimes much later.

When Mr. Rittenhouse's father established his
residence at Norriton, and during the minority of
the son, there were no schools in the vicinity at
which anything more was taught, than reading
and writing in the English language, and the
simplest rules of arithmetic. Young Ritten-

302 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

house's school education was, therefore, necessarily
bounded by very narrow limits. He was in
truth taught nothing beyond those very circum-
scribed studies, which have been named, prior to
his nineteenth year. The zeal with which he pur-
sued his studies will be seen from the following ex-
tract of a letter, written in September, 1756, being
then little more than twenty-four years of age.
" I have not health for a soldier " (the country
was then engaged in war), " and as I have no
expectation of serving my country in that way, I
am spending my time in the old trifling manner,
and am so taken with optics, that I do not know
whether if the enemy should invade this part of
the country, as Archimedes was slain while mak-
ing geometrical figures on the sand, so I should
die making a telescope."

An incident now occurred which served to make
known more extensively, the extraordinary genius
of Rittenhouse. His mother had two brothers,
David and Lewis Williams (or William), both of
whom died in their minority. David, the elder
of these, pursued the trade of a carpenter, or
joiner. Though, like his nephew and namesake,
he was almost wholly an uneducated youth, he
also, like him, early discovered an unusual genius
and strength of mind. After the death of this
young man, on opening a chest containing the
implements of his trade, which, was deposited at
Mr. M. Rittenhouse's (in whose family it is pre-
sumed he dwelt), a few elementary books, treatino-

RITTENHOUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. 303

of arithmetic and geometry were found in it.
With these, there were various calculations and
other papers, in manuscript ; all the productions
of David Williams himself, and such as indicated
not only an uncommon genius, but an active
spirit of philosophical research. To this humble
yet valuable coffer of his deceased uncle, Ritten-
house had free access, while yet a very young
boy. He often spoke of this acquisition as a
treasure, inasmuch as the instruments belonging
to his uncle afforded him the means of gratifying
and exercising his mechanical genius, while the
books and manuscripts early led his mind to
those congenial pursuits in mathematical and
astronomical science, which were ever the favor-
ite objects of his studies. This circumstance,
probably, occurred before his twelfth year.
"It was during the residence of Rittenhouse
with his father at Norriton," says his eulogist,
Dr. Rush, "that he made himself master of
Sir Isaac Newton's Principia, which he read
in the English translation of Mr. Motte. It was
here, likewise, that he became acquainted with the
science of fluxions ; of which sublime invention,
he believed himself for a while to be the author,
nor did he know for some years afterwards, that
a contest had been carried on between Sir Isaac
Newton and Leibnitz, for the honor of that great
and useful discovery." Mr. Rittenhouse's early
zeal in his practical researches into astronomy,
prompted him to desire the greatest possible

304: MEN WHO HATE KISEN.

accuracy in the construction of time-pieces adapted
to astronomical purposes ; and uniting, as he did,
operative skill with a thorough knowledge of the
principles upon which their construction depends,
he was enabled, by his own mechanical ingenuity,
to gain a near approach to the perfection to which
the pendulum-chronometer may be brought.

" There is nothing peculiar in the mechanism
of this time-piece which requires to be mentioned,
except the pendulum ; especially the apparatus for
counteracting the effects of temperature. For
this purpose, there is fastened on the pendulum-
rod (which is of iron or steel) a glass tube about
thirty-six inches long; bent in the middle into
two parallel branches, at the distance of about an
inch from each other; the bend being placed
downwards, immediately above the bob of the
pendulum. The tube is open at one end, and
closed at the other ; the arm which is closed at
the top is filled, within about two inches of the
lower end or bend, with alcohol, and the rest of
the tube, within about one half of an inch of the
upper extremity, or open end, with mercury ; a
few inches of the tube, at this extremity, being
about twice the width of the rest of the tube.

" Now, when the heat of the air increases, it
will expand the pendulum-rod, and would thus
lower the centre of oscillation, and cause the
clock to go slower ; but this effect is completely
counteracted, by the expansion of the alcohol
chiefly, and of the mercury in part ; which equally

BnTENHOTTSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN". 305

raises the centre of oscillation, and thus preserves
an equable motion in all the variable temperatures
of the atmosphere."

The great accuracy and exqusite workmanship
displayed in everything belonging to the profes-
sion which Mr. Rittenhouse pursued, that came
through his hands, soon became extensively
known in that portion of the United States where
he lived. This knowledge of his mechanical
abilities, assisted by the reputation which he had
already acquired as a mathematician and astrono-
mer, in a short time procured him the friendship
and patronage of some eminent scientific men.
In mechanics he was entirely self -taught. He
never received the least instruction from any
person, in any mechanic art whatever. If he
were to be considered merely as an excellent
artist, in an occupation intimately connected with
the science of mechanics, untutored as he was in
any art or science, he would deservedly be deemed
an extraordinary man.

In the bosom of his father's family he long con-
tinued to enjoy the tranquil scenes of rural life,
amidst the society of an amiable and very intelli-
gent family circle, and surrounded by many
estimable neighbors, by whom he was both loved
and respected. His chief occupation was that of
the profession which he had chosen ; but the occa-
sional intervals of leisure from, his business, which
his assistant workmen enabled him to obtain, he
devoted to philosophical and abstract studies,
20

306 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

In February, 1766, Mr. Rittenliouse was mar-
ried to Miss Eleanor Colston, the daughter of a
respectable member of the Society of Friends
who lived in the neighborhood. After her death
he married Miss Hannah Jacobs.

In 1767, among other things, he contrived
and made a very ingenious thermometer, con-
structed on the principle of the expansion and
contraction of metals by heat and cold, respect-
ively. This instrument had, under glass, a face
upon which was a graduated semicircle ; the
degrees of heat and cold corresponded with those
of Fahrenheit's thermometer ; and these were
also correspondingly designated by an index
moving on the centre of the arch. Its square, or
rather parallelogramical form, its flatness and
thinness, and its small size, together with its not
being liable to the least sensible injury or irregu-
larity, from any position in which it might be
placed, rendered it a very convenient thermometer
to be carried in the pocket.

About this time Mr. Rittenhouse made a very
ingenious orrery. Though no description, in
words, can give an adequate idea, yet we sub-
join a part of the philosopher's own account of
it. "This machine is intended to have three
faces, standing perpendicular to the horizon ; that
n the front to be four feet square, made of sheet
brass, curiously polished, silvered and painted, in
proper places, and otherwise properly ornamented.
From the centre arises an axis, to support a

EITTENHOUSEj THE MATHEMATICIAN. 307

gilded brass ball, intended to represent the sun.
Round this ball move others, made of brass or
ivory, to represent the planets. They are to move
in elliptical orbits, having the central ball in one
focus ; and their motions to be sometimes swifter,
and sometimes slower, as nearly according to the
true law of an equable description of areas as
possible, without too great a complication of wheel-
work. The orbit of each planet is likewise to be
properly inclined to those of the others ; and their
aphelia and nodes justly placed ; and their veloci-
ties so accurately adjusted as not to differ sensibly
from the tables of astronomy in some thousands of
years.

"For the greater beauty of the instrument, the
balls representing the planets are to be of consid-
erable bigness, but so contrived that they may be
taken off at pleasure, and others, much smaller,
and fitter for some purposes, put in their places.

"When the machine is put in motion, by the
turning of a winch, there are three indices which
point out the hour of the day, the day of the
month, and the year answering to that situation of
the heavenly bodies which is there represented ;
and so continually, for a period of five thousand
years, either forwards or backwards.

" The two lesser faces are four feet in height,
and two feet three inches in breadth. One of
them will exhibit all the appearances of Jupiter
and his satellites, their eclipses, transits, and in-
clinations ; likewise all the appearances of Saturn,

308 : , MEST WHO HAVE BISEN.

with his ring and satellites. And the other will
represent all the phenomena of the moon — particu-
larly the exact time,. quantity, and duration of her
eclipses —and those of the sun occasioned by her
interposition ; with a most curious contrivance for
exhibiting the appearance of a solar eclipse at any
particular place on the earth, likewise the true
place of the moon in the signs, with her latitude
and the place of her apogee in the nodes ; the sun's
declination, equation of time, &c. It must be un-
derstood that all these motions are to correspond
exactly with the celestial motions ; and not to differ
several degrees from the truth in a few revolutions,
as is common in orreries."

Some general idea, perhaps, of this instrument
may be derived from the preceding description ;
at least it will afford sufficient evidence of the
extraordinary philosophical and mechanical powers
of Rittenhouse.

' Among the most important service which he
rendered for the world, was the observation of
the transit of Venus over the sun's disc, which
took place on the third of June, .1769. There
had been but one of these transits of Venus over
the sun during the course of about one hundred
and thirty years . preceding that of 176-9 ; and, for
upwards of seven centuries^ antecendently to the
commencement of that period, the same planet
had passed over the sun's disc no more than thir
teen times. The next transit of Venus will take
place on the 8th of December, 1874, which but few,

BITTEftHOUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. < 309

if any persons then on the stage of life will have
an opportunity of observing. From 1874, down
to the 14th of June, A. D., 2984, inclusively — a
period of upwards of eleven centuries — the same
planet will pass over the sun's disc only eighteen
times.

The great use of the observation of the transit
of Venus is to determine the sun's parallax.*
Only two of these phenomena had been observed
since the creation of the world, and the first had
been seen by only two persons — Jeremiah Horrox
and William Crabtree, two Englishmen. As the
time approached when this extraordinary pheno-
menon was to manifest itself, the public expectation
and anxiety were greatly excited. The American
Philosophical Society appointed thirteen gentle-
men, to be distributed into three committees, for
the purpose of making observations. Rev. Dr.
Ewing had the principal direction of the observa-
tory in the city of Philadelphia ; Mr. Owen Biddle
had the charge of superintending the observations
at Cape Henlopen, and Mr. Rittenhouse those at
ISTorriton, near his own residence, on an elevated
piece of ground, commanding a good range of
horizontal view. It was completely furnished with
the necessary instruments, owing very much

* A parallax denotes a change of the apparent place of any heavenly
body, caused by being seen from different points of view; or it is the
difference between the true and apparent distance of any heavenly body
from the zenith. The fixed stars are so remote as to have no sensible
parallax; and even the sun and all the primary planets, except Mars
and Venus when nearest the earth, are at so great distances from the
earth, that their parallax is too small to be observed.

310 MEK WHO HAVE RISEN".

to the liberality of some scientific gentlemen in
England.

" We are naturally led," says Dr. Rush, in his
eulogium, " to take a view of our philosopher, with
his associates, in their preparations to observe
a phenomenon which had never been seen but
twice before by any inhabitant of our earth, which
would never be seen again by any person then
living, and on which depended very important
astronomical consequences. The night before the
long-expected day was probably passed in a degree
of solicitude which precluded sleep. How great
must have been their joy, when they beheld the
morning sun; and the 'whole horizon without a
cloud ;' for such is the description of the day, given
by Mr. Rittenhouse in his report to Dr. Smith.
In pensive silence and trembling anxiety, they
waited for the predicted moment of observation :
it came — and brought with it all that had been
wished for and expected by those who saw it. In
our philosopher, in the instant of one of the con-
tacts of the planet with the sun, there was an
emotion of delight so exquisite and powerful, as to
induce fainting; — such was the extent of that
pleasure, which attends the discovery or first per-
ception ot truth."

The observations of Mr. Rittenhouse were re-
ceived with favor by the whole philosophical world.
Mr. Ludlam, one of the vice-presidents of the
Philosophical Society of London, and an eminent
astronomer, thus writes : " No astronomers could

KITTENHOUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN.

better deserve all possible encouragement ; whether
we consider their care and diligence in making
their observations, their fidelity in relating wnat
was done, or the clearness and accuracy of their
reasoning on this curious and difficult subject. The
more I read the transactions of your Society (the
American Philosophical), the more I honor and
esteem the members of it. There is not another
Society in the world that can boast of a member
such as Mr. RITTENHOUSE ; theorist enough to
encounter the problems of determining, from a few
observations, the orbit of a comet ; and also me-
chanic enough to make, with his own hands, an
equal-altitude instrument, a transit-telescope, and
a time-piece. I wish I was near enough to see his
mechanical apparatus. I find he is engaged in
making a curious orrery."

Dr. Maskelyne, Astronomer Royal at Green-
wich, says : " The Pennsylvania Observations of
the transit were excellent and complete, and do
honor to the gentleman who made them, and those
who promoted the undertaking." Dr. Wrangel,
an eminent and learned Swedish clergyman, speak-
iiio- of the Transactions of the American Philoso-

O

phical Society, says : " Your accurate observations
of the transit of Venus have given infinite satisfac-
to our Swedish astronomers."

On the 9th of November following, Mr.
Rittenhouse, in connection with several others,
observed a transit of Mercury over the sun's
disc.

312 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN.

In the autumn of 1770, Mr. Rittenhouse removed
with his family to the city of Philadelphia.

A new phenomenon in the heavens soon after
engaged his attention ; this was the comet which
appeared in June and July, 1770. "Here with I
send you," says Mr. Rittenhouse, writing to Dr.
Smith, "the fruit of three or four days' labor,
during which I have covered many sheets, and
literally drained my ink-stand several times." In
another letter he remarks, " I told you that some
intricate calculation or other always takes up my
idle hours (he seems to have considered all his
hours 'idle' ones which were not taken up in
some manual employment), that I cannot find
time to write to my friends as often as I could
wish ; a new object has lately engrossed my
attention. The comet which appeared a few
weeks since was so very extraordinary, that I
could not forbear tracing it in all its wanderings,
and endeavoring to reduce that motion to order
and regularity which seemed void of any. This,
I think, I have accomplished, so far as to be able
to compute its visible place for any given time ;
and I can assure you that the account from York,
of its having been seen again near the place
where it first appeared, is a mistake. Nor is Mr.
Winthrop of Boston happier, in supposing that it
yet crosses the meridian, every day, between
twelve and one o'clock, that it has already passed
its peripelion, and that it may, perhaps, again
emerge from the southern horizon. This comet

KITTENHOUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. 313

is now to be looked for nowhere but a little to the
north of, and very near to the ecliptic. It rises
now a little before day-break ; and will continue to
rise sooner and sooner every morning."

In March, 1771, the Legislature of Pennsyl-
vania bore the following honorable testimony to
the worth of Mr. Rittenhouse : .

" The Members of Assembly having viewed the
orrery constructed by Mr. David Rittenhouse, a
native of this province, and being of opinion that
it greatly exceeds all others hitherto constructed,
in demonstrating the true situations of the celes-
tial bodies, their magnitudes, motions, distances,
periods, eclipses, and order, upon the principles of
the Newtonian system :

"Resolved, that the sum of three hundred
pounds be given to Mr. Rittenhouse, as a testi-
mony of the high sense which this House entertain
of his mathematical genius and mechanical abili-
ties, in constructing the said orrery."

In January, 1771, Mr. Rittenhouse was elected
one of the Secretaries of the American Philo-
sophical Society. In 1789, the honorary degree
of Doctor of Laws was conferred upon Mr.
Rittenhouse by the college of New Jersey. In
January, 1791, on the death of Dr. Franklin, Dr.
Rittenhouse was, with great unanimity, elected
President of the American Philosophical Society.
In 1795, he was elected a member of the Royal
Society of London. This high honor had been pre-
viously conferred upon only three or four Americans.
14

314: MEN WHO HAVE RISEN.

But he did not live long to enjoy his distin-
guished honors. Soon after his entrance upon
the sixty-fifth year of his age, in June, 1796, he
died.

The Rev. Dr. Ashbel Green, being pastor of
the congregation in which Dr. Rittenhouse had
often attended divine worship during the latter
years of his life, pronounced an appropriate
address at his interment. "This," says Dr.
Green, " is emphatically the tomb of genius and
science. Their child, their martyr is here depos.
ited — and their friends will make his eulogy in
tears. I stand not here to pronounce it ; the
thought that engrosses my mind is this : how
much more clear and impressive must be the
views which the late spiritual inhabitant of that
lifeless corpse now possesses of GOD — of his
infinite existence, of his adorable attributes, and
of that eternal blaze of glory which emanates
from Him — than when she was blinded by her vail
of flesh ! Accustomed as she was to penetrate far
into the universe — far as corporal or mental vision
here can reach — still what new and extensive
scenes of wonder have opened on her eyes enlight-
ened and invigorated by death ! The discoveries
of RITTENHOUSE, since he died, have already been
more, and greater, than while he lived. Yes, and
could he address us from the spiritual world, his
language would be —

' All, a'l on earth is shadow, all beyond
la substance. — ' "

BITT£XHOU5E, THE MATHEMATICIAN. 315

In a conversation with the Rev. Dr. Sproat,
Dr. Rittenhouse, a short time before his death,
declared, that " he could with truth say, that ever
since he had examined Christianity and thought
upon the subject, he was a firm believer in it ; and
that he expected salvation only in the way of the
Gospel." He had not attached himself to any
particular church. The members of his family
were mostly of the Society of Friends. In the
last years of his life he read many books on
natural and revealed religion. He was much
pleased with the " Thoughts of Pascal."

He was a very modest and unassuming man,
and in this strikingly resembled Sir Isaac Newton,
for whose character and works he had the highest
veneration. His usefulness, though great, was
considerably circumscribed by his want of an
early education. In consequence of this, he felt
an unbecoming diffidence in his own powers, and
failed to commit his discoveries and thoughts to
writing, which, in a published form, would, doubt-
less, have eminently increased his usefulness, and
the honor of the country which gave him birth.

I.— FAMOUS BOYS; and How They Became Great

Men. Square 16mo, eight illustrations, gilt back and sides, $0 7">
Same, full gilt sides and edges T '. 1 00

"Famous Boys" is an entirely new volume, containing numerous
highly interesting sketches of American and European celebrities, who
have risen to eminence by the means of an industry evinced from boy-
hood upward. It will prove a most useful and entertaining volume fi>r
boys, well calculated to stimulate them to exertion, and habits of jier-
e?verance and studiousness.

IX— THE WAR TIGER; or, the Adventures of a
Young Sea Chief, Loo Choo, and his boy Chow.

Square 16mo, eight illustrations, gilt back and sides $0 75

Same, full gilt sides and edges 1 00

IH.-THE WHITE ELEPHANT; or, the Hun-
ters ofAva, and King of the Golden Foot. By
WILLIAM DALTON, author of "The War Tiger," etc. Square

16mo, six illustrations, gilt back and sides $0 75

Same, full gilt sides and edges 1 00

"The War Tiger," and ""White Elephant," are two books of delightful
adventure, and of fasc nating interest to boys.

IV.- WOMEN OF WORTH : a Book for Girls.

Square Ib'mo, eight illustrations, gilt back and sides $0 75

Same, full gilt sides and edges 1 00

Containing sketches of women noted for benevolence and high moral

worth — both instructive and entertaining for girls.

V.— MEN WHO HAVE RISEN; a Book for Boys.

Square 16mo, eight illustrations, silt back and sides $0 75

Same, full gilt sides and edges, 1 00

VI.— FIRE SIDE PHILOSOPHY; or, Familiar Talks
about Common Things. — A manual of interesting infor-
mation respecting the Mineral, Vegetable, and Animal King-
doms, and various matters connected with the Useful and Orna-
mental Arts. Square 16mo, gilt back and sides $0 75

Same, full gilt sides and edges t 00

*% The above Juveniles are issued in a style of unusual elegance,
uniform in size and binding. Works more pleasii-g, and at the same
time salntary, could not be selected for the juvenile members of the
household.

W. A. TOWNSEND & Co., PUBLISHERS,
No. 46 Walker Street, New York.

The Complete Works of
James Fenimore Cooper.

In thirty-four volumes, I zmo, Embracing :

Precaution.
The Spy.
The Pioneers.
The Pilot.
Lionel Lincoln.
Last of the Mohicians.
Red Kover.
The Praiire.
Travelling Bachelor.
Wept of Wish-ton-Wish.
The Water-Witch.

The Bravo.
The Heidenmauer.
The Headsman.
The Monikins.
Homeward Bound.
Home as Found.
The Pathfinder.
Mercedes of Castile.
The Deerslayer.
The Two Admirals.
Wing-and-Wing.
Wyandotte.

Afloat and Ashore.
Miles Wallingford.
The Chainbearer.
Satan stoe.
The Eed Skins.
The Crater.
Jack Tier.
The Sea Lions.
Oak Openings.
The Ways of tke Hour.
Ned Meyers.

Embossed muslin, per vol. (each work furnished separately) $ 1 00

Embossed muslin, the complete set, 34 vols., in boxes 34 00

Sheep, library style, marble edges, sup. finish, in boxes 40 00

COOPER'S LEATHER STOCKING TALES,
Comprifing :

Deerslayer, Prairie, Mohicans, Pioneers, Pathfinder.

Five elegant volumes, neatly bound in embossed cloth $5 00

Extra sheep, library style, marble edges 6 00

COOPER'S SEA TALES, Comprising:

The Pilot.
The Red Rover.
The Two Admirals.

Winer-and-Winsr.
The "Water- Witch.
Afloat and Ashore.
Miles Wallingford.

The Crater.
Jack Tier.
The Sea Lions.

Ten volumes, neatly bound in embossed cloth $10 00

Sheep, extra, marble edges, library style 12 00

W. A. TOWNSEND & Co., PUBLISHERS,
No. 46 Walker Street, New York.

A BOOK FOR KVJEttY FAMILY.

THE HOME OF WASHINGTON.

MOUNT YERNON

AKD ITS ASSOCIATIONS,

HISTORICAL, BIOGRAPHICAL AND PICTORIAL.
By BENSON J. LOSSING,

Author of "Field-Book of the Revolution," "Hiftory
of the United States," etc.

ILLUSTRATED WITH NEARLY 150 ENGRAVINGS,

Vninly from original Drawings by the Author, embracing numerous
Views of MountYernon, various interesting objects upon the grounds,
copies of famous Pictures, Portraits of Washington and other members
of the Family, as well as Distinguished Personages of his time, etc.

It contains very much valuable and interesting matter, now published
for the fir^t time, relating to the Washington Family, which Mr. Los-
sing s extensive acquaintance and superior facilities have enabled him
to collect, and will, the publishers believe, prove one of the most impor-
tant contributions to the historical literature of our country yet pub-
lished. It is printed on superfine paper, delicately tinted, and bound
in new and attractive styles.

Small 4to, cloth |3 00

Cloth, gilt sides and edges 4 50

Morocco antique, gilt edges 6 00

Morocco, extra, gilt sides and edges 6 50

W. A. TOWNSEND & Co., PUBLISHERS,
No. 46 Walker Street, New York,

THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE
STAMPED BELOW

AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS

WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN
THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY
WILL INCREASE TO 5O CENTS ON THE FOURTH
DAY AND TO $I.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY
OVERDUE.

JUN281954LU

YB. 21574

C.T/01

THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY

m