I
m**
in
CM
No.
Division
Range
Shelf........
Received
OF THE
VISITS
TO
EUROPEAN CELEBRITIES
BY
WILLIAM B. STB, AGUE, D.D.
n
Dcberi hoc a me tantis ingeniis putavi.
CICBRO.
BOSTON:
O U L D AND LINCOLN,
69 WASHINGTON STREET.
NEW YORK: SHELDON, LAMPORT & BLAKEMAN,
116 NASSAU STREET.
1855.
\
o
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by
GOULD AND LINCOLN,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
THOMAS B. SMITH,
8TEREOTTPER AND ELECTROTYPES
82 & 84 Beekman St., N. Y.
PREFACE.
TN 1828, and again in 1836, I had the privi-
lege of passing a few months on the con-
tinent of Europe and in Great Britain. In
both visits, especially the latter, I was more
interested to see men than things; and I not
only made the acquaintance, so far as I could,
of distinguished individuals as they came in
my way, but sometimes made circuitous routes
in order to secure to myself this gratification.
It was my uniform custom, after every such
interview, to take copious memoranda of the
conversation, including an account of the in-
dividual's appearance and manners — in short,
defining, as well as I could, the whole impress-
ion which his physical, intellectual, and moral
IV PREFACE.
«
man had made upon me. On my return from
my second tour, I was requested by several
persons, who were aware of the extent to
which I had gone in recording these personal
details, to compile from them a series of
sketches to be submitted to the public eye;
but while, for several reasons, I had no dis-
position to engage in such an enterprize, the
decisive consideration against it was, that the
individuals were then all living, and I had
reason to believe there were some among
them whose delicacy might be wounded by
what they would regard as, at least, a prema-
ture publication. The consequence was, that
my notes lay buried in my diary for more
than fifteen years ; nor would they have been
exhumed at this time, if nearly all their sub-
jects had not passed away.
A ' year or two since, my highly esteemed
friend, Dr. Leyburn, one of the conductors of
"The Presbyterian," requested me to contribute
something in aid of his editorial labours; and
PREFACE. V
I ventured to send him a series of articles,
entitled "Eminent persons abroad," which ap-
peared in nearly successive weeks, during the
greater part of a year. As it has been inti-
mated to me from different quarters, that there
are those who would be glad to see these notices
embodied in a small volume, I have consented
to the suggestion, though not without some
misgivings — partly on the ground that many
of them are so exceedingly slight, and partly
because I believe that a few of the subjects
still survive. I have, however, gone carefully
over them, omitting, correcting, and adding,
so that I am willing to hope that they may
be, at least, a little less unworthy of public
notice than as they originally appeared in the
newspaper. Several new subjects, also, have
been introduced; and I cannot forbear to add
that I have material in respect to several
more, and those among my most cherished
friends, which a merciful Providence yet for-
bids me to use. May each of them gather
VI PREFACE.
many new gems to his immortal crown, before
death shall remove all restraint from the hand
of gratitude and affection, that should under-
take to portray their characters.
The subjects are arranged exactly in the
order in which I saw them, except that I have
noticed two or three in connexion with my
last visit, of whom I had some knowledge
during my first. The list of those whom I met
in 1828, closes with Dr. M'Call— all that fol-
low were the acquaintances of 1836. At the
suggestion of the publishers, a fac-simile of
the signature of each of the persons noticed
has been introduced.
C 0 n 1 1 n t s.
i.
MM
EDWARD IRVING- 13
II.
ROWLAND HILL
III.
MATTHEW WILKS ................. 27
IV.
GEORGE BORDER .......... ....... 34
V.
WILLIAM ORMB .................. 39
V1U CONTENTS.
VI.
PAGK
WILLIAM WILBERFORCE . . ............. 44
VII. I
WILLIAM JAY .................. 60
VIII.
ROBERT HALT. — JOHN FOSTER ............. 65
*
IX.
HANNAH MORE .................. 64
X.
DR. M'CALL ................... ?3
XI.
DUCHESS DB BROGLIE — MADAME NET—MARSHAL GROUCHY . 81
i
XII.
GENERAL BERNARD — GUIZOT — Louis PHILIPPE ...... 86
XIII.
SISMONDI — DEOANDOLLE ............... 92
CONTENTS.
XIV.
PAGE
BLUMHARDT— YINET ................ 97
XV.
DR. PlNKERTON .................. 102
XVI.
DR. ROEHR — DR. FRORIEP — MADAME DE GOETHE ...... 107
XVII.
THOLUCK — G-ESENIUS — FOUQUET ............ 115
XVIII.
DR. HEUBNER .................. 123
XIX.
NBAITDER — HEVGSTEKBHRG .............. 130
XX.
ALEXANDER YON HUMBOLDT — RITTER — HENRY — RAUMEUR —
STEPHENS — HITZIG — SAVIGNY— G-ANS— ENCKE — OLBERS . . 188
XXI.
SAITUEL ROGERS — THOMAS CAMPBELL .......... 14t
1*
•
X CONTENTS.
XXII.
PAGE
DR. OLINTHUS GREGORY 153
XXIII.
LUCY AIKEN — JOANNA BAILLIE — ELIZABETH FRY 159
XXIV.
DR. JOHN PYE SMITH — EGBERT ASPLAND — JOHN TOWELL BUTT —
GEORGE DYER 166
XXV.
JOSIAH PRATT — THOMAS HART WELL HORNE 173
XXVI.
THOMAS WILSON 177
XXVII.
JOSEPH JOHN GURXEY — AMELIA OPIE . 184
XXVIII.
CHARLES SIMEON — PROFESSOR LEE 195
XXIX.
DR. BUNTING — DR. PUSEY — DR. M'BRIDE — ESTHER COPLEY 204
CONTENTS. XI
•
XXX.
PAGE
MRS SHERWOOD 210
XXXI.
MARIA EDGEWORTH 216
XXXII.
EDWARD BICKERSTETH — DR. SINGER 225
XXXIII.
JOHN GALT 232
XXXIV.
GREVILLE EWINO — DR, HEUGH — DR. WABDLAW — DR. M'Gn/L . 25*
XXXV.
MRS. GRANT OP LAGGAN » . 242
XXXVI.
DR. CHALMERS 250
XXXVII.
DR. LEE — DR. GORDON — DR. PEDDIE . 262
Xll
CONTENTS.
XXXVIII.
BURNS' FRIENDS.
FA6K
ROBERT AINSLEE — MRS. M'LEHOSC — MRS. SMITH or MELYIN 269
XXXIX.
DR. ABERCROMBIE — DR. ALISON 276
XL.
LORD JEFFREY — SIR DAVID BREWSTER — PROFESSOR WILSON . . 282
XLI.
DR. THOMAS DICK
XLII
EGBERT SOUTHET . 295
T WAS fortunate enough to see and hear EDWARD
-*- IRVING, a little before the dispensation of the
tongues opened upon him. He was then the min-
ister of the Caledonian chapel in London, and had
a highly respectable congregation, though it was evi-
dent that his glory had begun to wane. The great
number of the nobility that had thronged to hear
him on his first going to London, had now fallen
off; and though he was universally spoken of as
a man of remarkable genius, it seemed to be almost
as universally conceded that his genius was not a
little obscured by his eccentricity ; and there were
not wanting those who, even then, ventured the
opinion that a few years more would show him to
be a madman. I was not a little curious to hear
him for myself, and accordingly took advantage of
one of the earliest opportunities after my arrival in
London for doing so.
After a long walk on Sunday morning, I reached
Xll
CONTENTS.
XXXVIII.
BURNS' FRIENDS.
PA6K
ROBERT AINSLEE — MRS. M'LEHOSE — MRS. SMITH or MELVIN 269
XXXIX.
DR. ABERCROMBIE — DR. ALISON 216
XL.
LORD JEFFREY — SIR DAVID BREWSTER — PROFESSOR WILSON . . 282
XLI.
DR. THOMAS DICK 200
XLII.
ROBERT SOUTHET
295
T WAS fortunate enough to see and hear EDWARD
•*- IRVING, a little before the dispensation of the
tongues opened upon him. He was then the min-
ister of the Caledonian chapel in London, and had
a highly respectable congregation, though it was evi-
dent that his glory had begun to wane. The great
number of the nobility that had thronged to hear
him on his first going to London, had now fallen
off; and though he was universally spoken of as
a man of remarkable genius, it seemed to be almost
as universally conceded that his genius was not a
little obscured by his eccentricity ; and there were
not wanting those who, even then, ventured the
opinion that a few years more would show him to
be a madman. I was not a little curious to hear
him for myself, and accordingly took advantage of
one of the earliest opportunities after my arrival in
London for doing so.
After a long walk on Sunday morning, I reached
14 EDWARD IRVING.
the place of worship in which he officiated ; and as
I was standing by the door, a gentleman, apparently
noticing me as a stranger, came up, and told me
to ask the sexton, as I entered the church, to show
me to Mr. Irving's pew. He perceived that I hesi-
tated, as if questioning his authority ; but he as-
sured me that I need not hesitate, as he was taking
no liberty that did not belong to him. As I knew
no other way of finding a seat, I sallied forth ac-
cording to his direction, and quickly landed in Mr.
Irving's pew. Mr. Irving was already in the pulpit,
and was reading a psalm, of course from the old
Scotch version. His appearance impressed me at
once as most extraordinary ; and my wonder, instead
of being abated, rose to a higher and higher pitch
till the close of the service. His face was, as the
pictures represent it — rugged and dark, bearing the
unequivocal marks of genius — generally of a severe
and even fierce expression, but now and then lighted
up for a moment with bright sunshine. His long hair
hung gracefully and carelessly about his shoulders.
His voice, on a low note, was bland and musical ;'
but when he became highly excited, it was grating,
almost to absolute torture. His prayers were ut-
tered with great solemnity and evon pathos, but
they were scarcely suitable prayers to be offered by
sinners. I could easily have imagined myself in a
congregation, if not of angels, at least of those
who had grown into perfect persons in Christ. His
sermon was worthy, I had almost said, of a splendid
EDWAKD IRVING. 15
maniac. There was now and then a passage in it
that was not only perfectly intelligible, but per-
fectly magnificent ; but the greater part of it was
pervaded by an air of mysticism, which left me little
else to do than gaze and wonder. His subject led
him to speak of the constitution of the person of
the Saviour ; and, so far as I could understand him,
I could not but be startled at his presumption. I
had, of course, no idea of what a few months would
bring forth ; but the sermon which I heard from
him left me in no doubt that he was on his way
to some higher point of extravagance than he had
yet reached ; and when I heard of the tongues, I
felt that that was only the legitimate result of the
wonderful words which I had heard him utter, and
the no less wonderful works (taking into view the
writhings of his body and the contortions of his
countenance,) which I had seen him perform.
I was so much impressed by his unique appearance,
as well as the brilliancy and originality of many of
his thoughts, that, as he went on with his discourse,
I felt a constantly-growing desire to have an inter-
view with him ; but, as I had no introductory letter,
I did not at first see any decent way of gratifying
my curiosity. At length, however, it occurred to me
that, as I was in Mr. Irving's pew under rather
equivocal circumstances, and without an invitation
from any of his family, it would seem no more
than reasonable that I should apologize for having
taken such a liberty. Accordingly, I determined
16 EDWARD IRVING.
that, when he came out of the pulpit, I would
venture to approach him with this apology ; but,
to my disappointment, he descended the stairs rap-
idly, and immediately stepped back into his vestry,
closing the door after him. Supposing that my
case had now become hopeless, I was in the act of
leaving the church, and had got half down the
aisle, when I looked back, and saw that the door
leading into the vestry was open, and several gen-
tlemen were entering. I turned about and followed
them ; and after waiting till their conversation with
Mr. Irving seemed to be over, I stepped up and
introduced myself as a clergyman from America, and
then told him under what circumstances I had that
morning found my way to his pew. He assured me
that no apology was necessary, and that any Ameri-
can minister was welcome not only to his pew but
to his heart, even without the formality of an intro-
duction. As I parted with him after a few moments,
he invited me to call and see him, in the course of
the week, at his house ; but he said that his engage-
ments were so pressing that he was obliged gen-
erally to deny himself to visitors, and that I must
tell the servant at the door that I had called at his
request — otherwise she would not give me admission.
Accordingly, in the course of that week I was
favoured with a personal interview with him at his
house. It turned out, as he had forewarned me, that
the servant was not disposed to let me in ; but when
I told her that I had come at Mr. Irving's request,
EDWARD IRVING. 17
/
she immediately conducted me into his study. Mrs.
Irving, who seemed an agreeable and highly-intelli-
gent lady, was sitting with him, but she withdrew
after a few minutes, and we were left alone together.
He met me with so much kindness, that I had not
the least feeling of being an intruder, notwithstand-
ing what he had told me about his manifold engage-
ments. He was familiar and affable in conversation,
and seemed particularly interested to learn all he
could about the religious state of our country. He
inquired particularly how large a part of our whole
population were accustomed to sit down to the
Lord's table ; and observed in the same connexion,
that though it was the custom in the Scotch Church
to invite all to the ordinance, not more than one
third of his people came, and that none were ad-
mitted without previous examination, especially as
to their knowledge to discern the Lord's body. He
complained much of the deficiency in point of doc-
trine among Cnurchmen and Dissenters, English
and Scotch, and expressed the opinion that while
the Dissenters and Evangelical Episcopalians were
the most spiritually-minded men, there were more
able divines among the High Church. He was very
inquisitive in regard to the tone of theological opin-
ion in the United States. I thought I could see
that he was feeling after something beyond the dif-
erence between Old and New-school, or between Cal-
viuists and Arminians — that he was trying to find
out whether there was anybody here who knew or
18 EDWARD IRVING.
cared anything about his hobby ; though, for the life
of me, I could not discover what his hobby was, from
his conversation, any better than from his preach-
ing. It seemed to me that, after he had got every-
thing from me he could, he thought that, to say the
least, we were in a poor way. After all, he seemed
deeply and solemnly impressed with the great in-
terests of religion. I could not doubt that there
were the actings of a genuine faith, and of a truly
humble and devout spirit, amidst some of the wild-
est religious demonstrations that I had ever wit-
nessed.
After sitting with him perhaps an hour, I rose to
come away, when he said to me, " Stop one mo-
ment, if you please," and then offered, in tones the
most affectionate and melting, the following prayer :
"Thou Saviour, who boldest the stars in thy right
hand, take this, my brother, under thy special care ;
be thou his guide, his strength, his consolation, and
his salvation. Let his preaching be accompanied by
the power of God ; and let those to whom he min-
isters be found among the saved. Do thou confirm
his health ; watch over him as he prosecutes his
homeward journey ; carry him safely to his friends
and his flock ; honour him with a long and useful
ministry ; and take to thyself all the glory." He
then gave me his hand, and we parted. It was one
of the most touching and patriarchal scenes with
which I had ever anything to do.
Everybody knows that Edward Irving's singular
EDWARD IRVING. 19
character and history have given occasion to much
speculation. There are not wanting those who be-
lieve that he was originally a mere actor, practising1
upon the credulity of the people, and that God, in
judgment, gave him up to the delusion which he
had thus courted. I heard just that opinion ex-
pressed concerning him by one of the most eminent
divines of Scotland, now living — a man, too, who
claimed to have had opportunities for extensive ob-
servation upon both his earlier and later develop-
ments. But such, I believe, is not the more com-
mon opinion. Certain it is, however, that his his-
tory is a most monitory one, and supplies the strong-
est arguments to all the ministers of Christ to
cultivate perfect Christian simplicity.
II.
T COULD not feel willing to pass even my first
Sabbath in London without hearing the celebrat-
ed EOWLAND HILL ; and a greater transition than
there was from the splendid reveries of Irving, to
whom I had listened in the morning, to the simple,
colloquial, and yet majestic performance of Hill,
whom I heard in the evening, it is not easy to im-
agine.
I set out, in what I supposed was good season, to
find my way to Surrey Chapel ; and after crossing
Blackfriar's Bridge, and travelling a good distance
beyond, I at length reached the place. It was an
immense building, I think of an octagonal form, of
a highly primitive and venerable appearance. As J
passed into the vestibule, I found that the lower
door opening into the audience-room was not only
closed but fastened, so that I had little hope of
gaining admission. I, however, immediately ascended
a flight of stairs which led to the gallery, and wus
ROWLAND HILL. 21
met at the door by one of the officials, who took me
in charge, and, not without great difficulty, procured
for me an excellent seat, almost immediately in
front of the pulpit.
As I entered the house, the congregation were
singing from a collection of hymns of which Kow-
land Hill was the compiler ; and a part of the
church service had previously been read by a young
clergyman, who was still sitting in the desk, dressed
in his canonicals. When the singing was nearly
closed, Mr. Hill walked into the pulpit, in the full
Episcopal habit, and with an air of majesty that
I have rarely seen equalled, and never surpassed.
He was a large, well-proportioned man, though some-
what inclined to corpulency, with a fine head and
face, and an intelligent and bland expression ; and
when he sat down, I perceived that he breathed
with difficulty, as if he were oppressed with the
asthma, which I afterwards ascertained was really
the case. At the close of the singing, he offered a
short prayer, which was remarkable for* its sim-
plicity and originality ; there was evidently a child-
like spirit associated with a vigorous and comprehen-
sive intellect. When he began to preach, his diffi-
culty of respiration was so great that it seemed to
me scarcely possible that he should get along with
any comfort either to himself or his audience ; but
the difficulty became less as he proceeded, and it
was not long before he had conquered it altogether.
I had heard so much* all my life of his eccentricity,
22 ROWLAND HILL.
that I was prepared to hear a sermon that, in some
parts at least, would impose rather a heavy tax upon
my gravity ; but in this respect I was disappointed.
With the exception of a single sentence, which
made it a little difficult for me to command my risi-
bles, there was nothing in the sermon which the
most fastidious could have considered as of even
questionable propriety. While there was not the
semblance of elaboration about it, it contained a
great amount of evangelical truth, in a form which
need not have offended a cultivated taste, but which
was yet perfectly level to the humblest capacity.
He spoke with due deliberation, but never hesitated
for a word, and seemed to have the right word al-
always at command. His voice was clear, full, and
commanding, his enunciation perfectly distinct, his
attitudes simple and natural, his gestures always
pertinent but not very abundant, and his whole ap-
pearance, bating his canonicals, such as might well
have become a general at the head of an army.
His discourse was very much of an experimental
character, and showed a heart evidently glowing with
the fervour of evangelical piety. He commanded the
most fixed attention from an audience which, I sup-
pose, must have consisted of between three and four
thousand persons.
At the close of the service, I followed him into
the vestry, and delivered to him an introductory let-
ter from a clergyman in this country, who had made
his acquaintance a few months before. To my sur-
ROWLAND HILL. *23
prise and mortification I found that lie had no rec-
ollection of the person who had given me the let-
ter ; but he immediately relieved me from all em-
barrassment, by saying that he was very happy to
see me — -just as much so as if he had had a better
memory. As I knew he was fatigued, I remained in
the vestry but a few moments, though, before leav-
ing him, I accepted an invitation to breakfast with
him the next morning. I went accordingly, and spent
an hour or two with him, much to my satisfaction.
When he introduced me to Mrs. Hill, who seemed
to be a fine, genial old lady, I could not but think
of the anecdote of her having fallen asleep in
church, under her husband's preaching, and his call-
ing out to somebody to wake up that man, lest his
snoring should wake up Mrs. Hill. It is said that
he used to allude to her pretty often in his preach-
ing, and sometimes in a way that she did not par-
ticularly relish.
I breakfasted with him once or twice afterwards,
and always found him full of witticisms and an-
ecdotes, though he never failed to exhibit more or
less of evangelical unction. Both he and Matthew
Wilks, who was, in some respects, very like him,
were regarded as privileged characters, and were al-
lowed to say things with impunity, which would
have subjected almost anybody else to severe repre-
hension. For instance, one morning when I visited
him, he came limping into the room, in consequence
of a bad corn upon one of his feet ; and he said, in
24 ROWLAND HILL.
a half-impatient, half-jocose manner, "I suppose you
haven't anybody in America who wants to take
a good, smart, aching corn. I would not care much
if I could clap it on to some heretical parson's
tongue." I soon found that he was a great friend
to our country, and had the highest expectations of
the part she is to bear in bringing about the moral
renovation of the world. He said that he always
took sides with us during our Revolution ; that he
felt that our cause was a righteous one, and never
doubted that we should succeed. He expressed
the highest admiration of President Edwards, and
seemed to think he had rendered more important
service to the cause of evangelical truth than almost
any other man the world had seen ; and added, that
if he must have a pope, he should like just such a
man ! Speaking of kings, he said that he had no
idea that they had any divine right to play the
devil. When I remarked to him that I had been
present, a few days before, at a large clerical meet-
ing in London, where an hour or two was spent in
drinking toasts, and that I had never witnessed the
same thing at any meeting of clergymen in my own
country, he replied, " It is a foolish practice ; and
I wish you would take it along with you, and bury
it in the Atlantic before you get to America." One
morning when I breakfasted with him, he was en-
gaged to preach, at eleven o'clock, some fourteen
miles from London ; and a lady was to send her
carriage for him at nine. But when nine o'clock
ROWLAND HILL. 25
came, no carriage had arrived, and I could see that
he was becoming a little impatient. At length he
exclaimed, with some degree of spirit, "Well, she
may send the carriage or not as she pleases ; but
one thing I know, that if it does not come, I shall
not go ; for as for taking my poor old sick horse, I
will do no such thing, for he has done much more
for the cause of Christ than many of our bishops
have." The carriage at length came, and he not
only fulfilled his appointment for the morning, but
preached nine miles from London on his return, at
three o'clock in the afternoon ; and in London, at
Tottenham Court Koad Chapel, in the evening. I
attended the evening service, and found a thronged
house, and the preacher seemed just as vigourous
and fresh as if his faculties had not been tasked at
all during the day. He told me that upon an
average, he preached about seven times a week, be-
sides having much of his time taken up with public
engagements, though he had then reached the age
of eighty-three, and had been in the ministry sixty-
four years ; and when I took my final leave of him,
he said : " Kemember me kindly to any of my
friends you may meet in America, and tell them I
have not quite done yet." Much of his conversa-
tion, while I was with him, turned upon the sub-
ject of civil and religious liberty. It was not long
after the terrible struggle of the Greeks ; and he
seemed to want language in which to convey ad-
equately his sympathy for them, or his abhorrence
26 ROWLAND HILL.
of the characters of their persecutors. He gave me
a copy of his Village Dialogues, with a most charac-
teristic inscription by his own hand.
I have never seen another man to whom Kowland
Hill could, on the whole, be likened. He was the
son of a baronet, and there was nobility impressed
upon his whole appearance, and bearing, and char-
acter ; and yet no man laboured more zealously than
he for the improvement of the humbler classes. He
had an exuberance of wit and fun, and yet it was
evident that he lived almost constantly amidst the
realities of the future. He was gentle, and mild,
and winning, and yet, when occasion required, he
could come down like a thunder-bolt, or an ava-
lanche. He was one of the few original characters
that appear in an age, and he performed a most
important mission ; but whoever should attempt to
imitate him would be sure to come out a finished
specimen of the absurd and ridiculous.
III.
Tl/TATTHEW WILKS belonged to the same school
of preachers with Kowland Hill ; and yet there
were some striking points of difference between
them. They were unlike in their origin and edu-
cation. Hill was of noble descent, and was a
graduate of St. John's College, Cambridge ; whereas
Wilks was of an obscure family, and had the most
common advantages for early culture. Hill's man-
ners were the manners of the court — there was no
society in which he could have been placed, so high,
or so polished, but that his presence would have
befitted and graced it ; but Wilks was exceedingly
plain, not to say coarse and clownish in his habits,
and you might easily have mistaken him for a
day-labourer in the street. Hill's mind was more
highly cultivated, but Wilks' intellect was probably
stronger — certainly he was more sagacious and far-
seeing. They labored side by side — the one in Sur-
rey Chapel, the other alternately in Tottenham
28 MATTHEW WILKS.
Court Chapel and in the Tabernacle — for about
half a century. Both were eminently blessed in
their labours ; both were highly gifted and eccentric
men ; both enjoyed, through a long life, an unsul-
lied reputation ; and the memories of both are still
.deeply embalmed in the affection and gratitude of
- 'thousands.
As I had gone from Paris to London, I had
taken with me a letter of introduction to Matthew
Wilks from his son, the Kev. Mark Wilks, who has
spent a considerable part of his life in France. I
reached London on Saturday afternoon ; and, as I
found my lodgings were not very distant from Mr.
Wilks' residence, I determined to call and deliver
my letter to him before the Sabbath. In the course
of the evening I found my way to his dwelling ;
but was told by the servant at the door that Mr.
Wilks was not well, and besides, that he was not
accustomed to see company except before ten in the
morning. As I handed the letter to the servant,
and mentioned that it was from Mr. Wilks of Paris,
he asked me to stop until he had had time to de-
liver it ; and in a moment he returned, and request-
ed me to walk into Mr. Wilks' study. I found the
old gentleman sitting at his ease, in an immense
plaid gown, with an old-fashioned cap, and every-
thing about his dress marking him as a piece of
venerable antiquity. The reception which he gave
me was in the highest degree cordial and affection-
ate. After inquiring about my health, which was
MATTHEW WILKS. 29
then indifferent, and about his son at Paris, he
began immediately to talk in quite an enthusiastic
tone about my country ; and remarked, among other
things, that he had not a doubt that she was des-
tined to be the mistress of the world. I think he
told me that he was then eighty years old ; but he
had preached regularly every Sabbath until a few
weeks before, when he was overtaken with a some-
what severe illness, from which he was at that time
only beginning to recover. I saw him but once after
this interview, and saw nothing in him then to vary
the impression in respect to him, which I received
at first. He seemed to me unpolished, but kind,
shrewd, and deeply interested in everything that
had a bearing on the interests of true religion.
I am satisfied, however, that I did not at all get
to the bottom of his character. I should have
judged that he was capable of being somewhat
blunt and unceremonious ; but I saw nothing to in-
dicate that terrible power of sarcasm which consti-
tuted, perhaps, his most striking characteristic. I
heard a number of anecdotes, said to be well
authenticated, respecting him, which will, perhaps,
give a better idea of one part of his character
than I can convey in any other way. One or two
of them, it must be acknowledged, seem hardly con-
sistent with due reverence for the Word of God.
There was nothing for which he had a more cor-
dial abhorrence than any exhibition of dandyism in
ministers ; and nothing of this kind ever
30 MATTHEW WILKS.
came in contact with him without meeting a re-
buke. On one occasion, a young minister, of a good
deal of pretension and parade, went from the coun-
try to London, and carried Mr. Wilks a letter, de-
signed to procure for him an invitation to preach.
"Well, young man," said Matthew, with a nasal
twang that is perfectly indescribable, but which no-
body who has -heard it can ever forget, "Well,
young man, you want to preach — you want to
preach in London, don't you ?" " I am gtfing to
pass a few days here, Sir, and if it should suit Mr.
Wilks' convenience, I should be very happy to give
his people a sermon, while I am here." "Well,"
replied Matthew, " you can preach — you can preach ;
come along next Wednesday morning to the Taber-
nacle, and I'll meet you there, and you can take
my lecture for that morning." The young man
agreed to do so, and was on the spot at the ap-
pointed hour. Matthew met him at the door, dis-
gusted, as he had been before, with his dandy airs,
and addressed him thus : "Go along into the pul-
pit, young man, and I shall sit below and look at
you, and hear every word you say." The young
preacher darted through the aisle into the pulpit,
in a manner that seemed better to befit a ball-
room than a place of worship. He performed the
introductory service with an air of insufferable self-
complacency, and in due time opened the Bible, and
read his text, which was the last verse of the first
chapter of the Gospel by John — " Hereafter ye shall
MATTHEW WILKS. 31
see Heaven open, and the angels of God ascending
and descending upon the Son of Man/' He had
written his sermon, and committed it all to mem-
ory, as he supposed, to a word ; but unfortunately
had left his manuscript behind him. "When he had
read his text, he found it impossible to recall the
first sentence. He hesitated and hemmed, and be-
gan thus — "You perceive, my brethren — you per-
ceive— that the angels of God — are here repre-
sented— as ascending — and descending." He then
set up a good stout cough, in the hope that his
memory might get to work in the mean time ; but
the cough was as unproductive as it was artificial,
and he could do nothing but go right over again
with the absurd sentence with which he had started.
He coughed again and again, but his memory was
in too profound a slumber to be awakened by it.
After three or four minutes, during which he was
a spectacle to the congregation, and especially to
Matthew, who was all the time watching and listen-
ing, according to his promise, he shut up his Bible
in perfect consternation, and abruptly closed the
service. Of course he came out of the pulpit with
a very different air from that with which he en-
tered it. But the worst was yet to come — he had
to meet Matthew, and hear his scathing com-
ments. "Well, well," said he, "young man, you've
preached — you 've preached in London — ha'nt you ?
I 've heard you ; I 've heard every word you 've
said, and I've only one comment to make — if you
32 MATTHEW WILKS.
had ascended as you descended, then you might
have descended as you ascended." It is needless
to say, that the young man was, by this time, cured
of his ambition for preaching in the Tabernacle.
Another young minister, of a similar character,
paid him a visit, and Matthew observed that he
sported what he thought a very indecent number of
watch-seals. He eyed them for some time, as if
scrutinizing the material of which they were made,
and then said, with a terribly sarcastic air — " It
seems to me that you Ve a good many seals to your
ministry, considering how young you are."
He was once preaching on some public occasion,
when there were not less than fifty persons in the
congregation taking notes of his sermon. At length
he stopped suddenly for a minute, and the stenog-
raphers having nothing to do, all looked up, arid
were gazing at him with astonishment. " Behold,"
said he, "how I've confounded the scribes !"
On one occasion, as he was on his way to a meet-
ing of ministers, he got caught in a shower, near
the place called Billingsgate, where there was a
large number of women dealing in fish, who were
using the most vulgar and profane language. As he
had stopped under a shed in the midst of them, he
felt himself called upon at least to leave with them
his testimony against their wickedness. " Don't you
think," said he, speaking with the greatest delibera-
tion and solemnity, "don't you think that I shall
appear as a swift witness against you at the judg-
MATTHEW WILKS. 33
ment ?" " I presume so," said one, " for the great-
est rogues always turn State's evidence \" Mat-
thew, when he got to the meeting of ministers,
related the incident. "And what did you say, Mr.
Wilks, in reply ?" asked one of the ministers pres-
ent. " What could I ?" was the characteristic an-
swer.
It may seem strange that with so much of eccen-
tricity, operating, too, sometimes in a way that
seemed actually irreverent, he should still have been
one of the most useful ministers of his day. But
that such was the case, admits of no question. His
preaching, though abounding with anecdote, and
never rising above the most colloquial style, and
often producing something much above a smile on
the countenances of his audience, was, nevertheless,
strongly evangelical, and admirably fitted to reach
the conscience. He was also one of the most be-
nevolent of men. Numerous anecdotes are related
of him, that show how literally he imitated his
Master's example in going about doing good. Few
ministers, it is believed, have, at any period, been
instrumental of the salvation of so many souls, or
contributed so much to further the cause of evan-
gelical truth and piety.
IV.
ITIHEKE was scarcely any book whose title-page
at least was more familiar to me, from my earli-
est childhood, than BURDER'S VILLAGE SERMONS ; and
there were few people in London whom I was more
desirous of seeing, than the venerable author of it.
It happened, very fortunately for me, that I had
a letter of introduction to his son, the Kev. Dr.
Henry Forster Burder ; and, as he was ready to
oblige me in everything, so he seemed more than
willing to procure for me the gratification of see-
ing his excellent father. Accordingly, he made an
engagement with the old gentleman, who then re-
sided with another son — an eminent physician, in
London — that we would take tea with him on a par-
ticular evening ; and then it was that I had one
of the only two interviews with him with which I
was favoured.
He was at that time seventy-six years of age.
He had lost entirely the sight of one eye, and the
GEORGE BURDER. 35
other was so materially affected tliat lie seemed to
think it more than possible that he might close his
life in total blindness. His countenance was ex-
pressive at once of mildness and decision ; and his
manners were as gentle, and his spirit apparently
as meek, as I should have expected to find in "the
disciple whom Jesus loved." He told me that he
was a native of London, as was his father and his
grandfather before him ; that in the early part of
his ministry he was settled at Coventry, but for the
twenty-six years then just past, he had been pas-
tor of the church in Fetter Lane, of which his
father was long a deacon, and in which he was him-
self baptized. Notwithstanding his infirmities, he
was still able to share equally with his colleague
the services of the Sabbath ; and I think I had it
upon good authority, that his discourses were at that
time as vigourous in thought and as rich in unction
as ever. He talked with much interest of many of
his excellent cotemporaries in the ministry who had
passed away ; but of no one did he speak with more-
marked respect and affection than of the celebrated
William Komaine, who was for a long time one of
the brightest lights in the evangelical portion of the
established church. This venerable man, he said,
used to keep a list of those clergymen of the es-
tablishment, in and about London, and I believe
throughout England, who sympathized with him in
his views of Christian truth and duty, and to have
it before him in his private devotions ; and that
36 GEORGE BURDER.
he lived to see the number increased from three or
four to three or four hundred. One of the number,
when it was the smallest, was a Mr. Jones, of whom
Mr. Burder told me this anecdote — Mr. Jones had
a college classmate, who entered the ministry at the
same time with himself, but was a mere man of
the world, and knew little, and cared nothing, about
the true Gospel. This man conversing one day
with Mr. Jones, said to him half-jocosely, half-
seriously, "Why is it that you are so popular as
a preacher, and so few come to hear me, when
everybody knows that at the university I was con-
sidered greatly your superior ?" " Why," said Mr.
Jones, "the reason is that I preach the Gospel."
u The Gospel," said the other, " so do I ; almost
every text I preach upon is from Matthew, Mark,
Luke, or John." Said Mr. Jones, " You may do that,
and yet never preach Jesus Christ." "Well," said
the other, "lend me one of your sermons, and see
what effect it will have." He actually did lend
him one, and he preached it as he had engaged to
do ; and as he was coming out of the church at
the close of the service, he was accosted by a man
who, in listening to the borrowed discourse, had
been thrown into a state of deep anxiety in respect
to his salvation. Says the minister, somewhat con-
fused by the strange result of his preaching,
" Wait, wait ; say nothing about it till the people
have all gone out." After the congregation had-
retired, the anxious inquirer began further to ex-
GEORGE BUKDER. 3T
plain himself, when the clergyman interrupted him
by saying — " But what is the matter with you ? I
see no occasion for your making yourself unhappy."
" Matter," replied he ; " why your preaching has
made me feel like a condemned criminal, and I fear
there is no mercy for me." " Well, really," said the
minister, "I am very sorry that I have wounded
your feelings — I had no intention of doing it ; but
since you have got into this uncomfortable state, I
advise you to go and see Mr. Jones."
I had another interview with Mr. Burder after
this, in which he showed me several curious manu-
scripts, among which were a number of sermons of
the Henrys (Philip and Matthew), and a few lines
written by Kichard Baxter in a Bible which I think
once belonged to a pulpit in which he was accus-
tomed to preach. Mr. Burder had, for many years,
in connexion with his pastoral engagements, held
the office, and faithfully discharged the duties, of
Secretary to the London Missionary Society ; and it
was probably in this latter capacity that he ren-
dered his most important services to the church.
Though, on account of his bodily infirmities, his con-
nexion with the Society had ceased some time be-
fore I saw him, it was manifest that his interest in
the missionary cause was as intense as ever. While
he was himself a Congregationalist, and was, I be-
lieve, strongly attached to Congregational princi-
ples and usages, he embraced in his Christian re-
gards and sympathies all, of whatever name, in whom
GEORGE BURDER.
he recognized the image of Christ. From that time
he declined gradually, and within, I think, two or
three years, he was gently released from the suffer-
ings of earth, to enter into his final rest. I con-
gratulate myself to this day that my first visit to
England was in time to see the author of the " Vil-
lage Sermons."
V.
I am not sure that even the name of
WILLIAM OKME was known to me previous to
my going to London, I found that he was one of
the most distinguished of the Dissenting ministers
of the metropolis, and exerted a wide influence not
only as a preacher but as an author, and especially
as the Foreign Secretary of the London Missionary
Society. My first meeting with him was at the set-
ting apart (or as we should say — the installation)
of the Kev. Henry Townley, as pastor of the church
in White Row ; on which occasion Mr. Orme per-
formed a very interesting part of the service. He
saved me the trouble of seeking an introduction to
him, by coming directly«to me, as soon as he knew
that I was in the house ; and he invited me at
once, with great cordiality, to pass some time with
his family before I should leave the country. I ac-
cepted his kind invitation, and the time for my visit
was fixed upon, which was to include a Sabbath.
40 WILLIAM ORME.
Mr. Orme resided at Camberwell, and at the ap-
pointed time I found my way to Ms residence. I
met at dinner, on the day of my arrival, Mr. Favell,
a most respectable member of the corporation of
the city of London, who, I was informed, had it not
been for his being a vigorous Dissenter, would prob-
ably, before that time, have been chosen Lord
Mayor, He was an unassuming, highly intelligent
man, and withal was an active member and deacon
of Mr. Orme's church. He had much to say of the
Eevolution that terminated in American independ-
ence, and unhesitatingly pronounced our cause, dur-
ing that conflict, a righteous one. And then he
added that, though the war of 1812 was unpopular
in Great Britain, it had at least served to convince
the British that the Americans could measure
swords with them ; and that it had actually done
much to lower the tone of British vaunting in re-
spect to their national superiority.
I passed the Sabbath with Mr. Orme, and had
the pleasure of hearing him preach one part of the
day. His sermon was on the text, "Every man
shall bear his own burden." I cannot say that it
was a particularly striking performance, and yet it
was full of weighty thoughts well arranged, and was
delivered with a distinct voice, with a good degree
of animation, and with great simplicity. It was his
custom not to write his sermons at length, but,
after the manner of the English Dissenters gener-
ally, at that time, to get a train of thoughts fixed in
WILLIAMORME. 41
his mind, and then trust to the moment for the
* •»
language. His occasional sermons, however, he was
accustomed to write, though, I believe, some that
were printed were not written till after the deliv-
ery. But he used his pen abundantly in other
fields of labour, as is proved by the various im-
portant works which he sent forth during his min-
istry.
In private, he was at once most agreeable and
instructive. His mind seemed deeply exercised in
regard to the political as well as religious state of
Great Britain ; and though he did not anticipate
anything like a revolution at an early period, he
thought the tendency of things was manifestly in
that direction. His heart was, as might be ex-
pected, fully in the missionary cause, and indeed
his official labours, in that department, occupied no
small portion of his time. But he had evidently
great executive power; and was well fitted to be
the master mind in any grand operation. His coun-
tenance bespoke great strength of character, per-
haps some degree of sternness ; but he had great
kindness and tenderness of feeling. He related to
me particularly some of the struggles of his early
life, and especially the overwhelming affliction which
he met in the death of his wife, within seven
months after their marriage ; and his emotions were
too strong to be repressed. He left me with the
impression that he was adequate to any emergency
that required courage and decision, while yet he had
42 WILLIAMOBME.
only to let nature have its own way, to " weep witl
them that weep."
Mr. Orme was a Scotchman by birth and educa-
tion, and if I remember right, was born in the
year 1787 ; so that, when I saw him, he must have
been about forty-one years of age. He evinced
strong intellectual tastes at an early period, but in
consequence of adverse circumstances, particularly
the death of his father, he was unable to indulge
them, and was compelled to engage in active busi-
ness. His mind first took a decided religious di-
rection under the preaching of the Kev. James
Haldane, of Edinburgh, where Orme's family then
resided. He became at this time a teacher* in a
Sabbath-school, and his occasional addresses to the
children were so pertinent, and often so striking,
that the Christians with whom he was associated
began to urge him to devote himself to the minis-
try of the Gospel. It was of all things what he de-
sired the most ; and, accordingly, when he was in
his nineteenth year, he commenced a course of pre-
paratory studies in an institution sustained by
Kobert Haldane, for the special benefit of the Scot-
tish Independent churches. After remaining here
but a single year, he entered on the duties of the
ministry ; and his first settlement, which took place
in the year 1807, was at Perth. Having laboured
here more than seventeen years, during which he
had a varied, and, in some respects, peculiar experi-
ence, he went to London, where he continued during
WILLIAM ORME. 43
the residue of his life. His death, which took place
about two years -after I saw him, was a fine illustra-
tion of the power of Christian principle, and a
fitting close of an eminently honoured and useful
life.
VI
[~T was not till I was on the eye of leaving Lon-
don, that I ascertained that the residence of this
great statesman and philanthropist was only ahout
ten miles distant ; and it took me but a moment
to decide that I would not leave the neighbourhood
without doing my utmost to obtain an interview
with him. Accordingly, having procured from one
of his friends a letter of introduction to him, I left
London early one morning, with my friend Mr.
Joshua Wilson, (whose kindness towards me was
unintermitted, and indeed has never ceased to this
day,) to secure, if possible, the desired gratification.
After riding more than an hour through a delightful
and highly-cultivated region, we reached Highwood,
where Mr. WILBERFORCE then had .his residence.
His dwelling was a large stone building, situated
on a delightful eminence, overlooking a fine valley
beneath ; and everything around it, though per-
fectly simple, showed exquisite taste and the very
WILLIAM WILBEEFOECE. 45
perfection of culture. The place seemed to me
quite in keeping with the character of its illustrious
occupant.
On delivering the letter to the servant at the
door, we were conducted through the drawing-room,
where some members of the family and others were
sitting, into the library, where we were requested to
stop a short time until Mr. Wilberforce should be
ready to receive us. With the leave of the librarian
who was present, we amused ourselves by looking
into some of the books, and observing the notes
which Mr. Wilberforce had made with his pen or
pencil in reading them. This was particularly true
of a volume of Kobert Hall, of whom he remarked
that he did not believe there was a man living who
possessed finer talents. The greater part of the
books were theological — the productions chiefly of
standard English writers ; and not a few of them
had been presented by the authors themselves. Af-
ter we had waited nearly half an hour, Mr. Wilber-
force entered the room, and being very near-sighted,
he took his glass, which was suspended from his
neck, and looking me in the face, asked if I was
the gentleman from America ; and, on being an-
swered in the affirmative, he gave me his hand in
the most affectionate manner, and welcomed me to
the country and to his house. He immediately
said — "You have made your arrangements, I hope,
to spend the day with me ?" and when I told him
that I had engaged to dine in town, he added —
46 WILLIAM WILBERFORCE.
" Then you will come and pass some other day with
me before you leave the neighbourhood." I told
him that would be impossible, as my arrangements
for leaving in a day or two were definitely made,
and it would be very inconvenient for me then to
change them. He expressed great astonishment that
I should go so soon, and went into quite an argu-
ment with me to induce me to change my pur-
pose.
Mr. Wilberforce's personal appearance was alto-
gether peculiar. He was small in stature, extreme-
ly rapid in his movements, very near-sighted, and
crooked almost to deformity. I can hardly say what
his countenance would have been in a state of re-
pose, for I think I had no opportunity of seeing it
in that state ; but in conversation it seemed per-
fectly radiant with intelligence and benignity. He
soon took us to the window and pointed out the
beauties of the surrounding scenery, in which nature
and art seemed both to have done their utmost.
He then directed our attention to a likeness of
William Pitt, his intimate friend, and observed that
it was the only good likeness of him in existence ;
and then added a remark or two which led me to
suppose that his least pleasant recollections of Pitt
had respect to his treatment of religion. By this
time he rose suddenly from his chair and said —
"Well, I am wronging my family in the other
room by monopolizing your company ;" and imme-
diately took us into the drawing-room, where we
WILLIAM WILBEBFOBCE. 47
were introduced to his son and daughter, and the
Rev. Mr. Sibthorp, then a distinguished Episcopal
minister in London. He said he was particularly
desirous to make me acquainted with his son ; that,
if I should visit England again, though he should
not himself probably be here to welcome me, his
son might be, and he knew that he would be happy
to do anything for me in his power. As we were
sitting in the drawing-room, my attention was at-
tracted to the most splendid set of china that I
ever saw ; and Mr. Wilberforce perceiving it, took
up some of the articles, and pointed out to us their
peculiar beauties ; observing at the same time that
it was of foreign manufacture. When I inquired
more particularly from what country it came, he
replied very modestly — "Why, to tell the truth, it
is a present to me from the king of Prussia."
After stopping perhaps half an hour with his
family in the drawing-room, he asked us to pass
on with him into his more retired apartment, where
he was accustomed to spend the greater part of
his time. Here he had another part of his library,
and particularly his periodical publications, which
seemed almost innumerable. Among them was our
Missionary Herald, of which he spoke in terms of
high praise. He remarked that we had a very clever
man in our country, by the name of , who
had formerly written some things in which he was
deeply interested ; but that he had subsequently
published a book which attacked England with great
48 WILLIAM WILBEKFORCE.
violence — fortunately, however, lie said, that it wag
so large a book, and so closely printed, and the
English withal were so much inclined to take their
ease, that it never got into circulation among them,
and therefore never did any hurt. He spoke with
great reprobation of the mutually vituperative spirit
which had, to some extent, existed in both coun-
tries ; and expressed the opinion that Adam Hodg-
son's travels in America had done more to promote
friendly relations between the two countries than
perhaps any other publication. Mr. Hodgson was
his intimate friend, and he kindly offered me an
introductory note to him, which I thankfully ac-
cepted. When I remarked to him that his health
seemed more vigorous than I had expected, he said
he had great reason to be thankful that he had
such a measure of health ; for his life had been
little else than a struggle with disease and de-
bility ; and Dr. Warren, one of the most eminent
physicians in London, had told him, more than forty
years before, that he had not stamina enough to
last a fortnight. He mentioned several of our
American divines in terms of very high respect ;
particularly Dr. Mason, with whom he had some ac-
quaintance, and Dr. Dwight, whose writings seemed
to be familiar to him. I was glad to be able to
tell him that his regard for Dr. Dwight was most
fully reciprocated, as I had more than once heard
the Doctor mention him with most affectionate re-
spect in his lectures to his pupils. He presented
WILLIAM WILBERFOECE. 49
me with a copy of his "Practical View," splendidly
bound, and containing a very kind inscription with
his own hand ; and, as he gave it to me, he re-
marked that it was a book which he wrote many
years before — soon after it pleased God to open his
eyes, and bring him to a knowledge of the truth ;
that he had great reason to be thankful that it
had been in some degree useful ; that soon after it
was published he sent a copy of it to Burke, who,
in acknowledging it, said that he approved it most
cordially. In reply to a question that I put to him
concerning Burke's religious character, he said that
though he had reason to fear that he was not a
decidedly pious man, yet he was undoubtedly one of
the best of the class to which he belonged. After
spending the morning with him, we took our leave ;
and I can truly say that I never parted wi,th a
human being with my mind more filled with grate-
ful and reverential recollections. I had a long let-
ter from him after my return home, which I treas-
ure as a precious memorial of one of the noblest
spirits of his own or any other age.
3
VII.
T HAD heard much of Mr. JAY from my early
childhood ; and his sermons were among the first
that I ever read. Of course, when I crossed the
ocean, I had a great interest in seeing him ; and I
made it in my way to stop a day or two in Bath,
in order to procure for myself this gratification. As
I had letters of introduction to him from two of
his particular friends in London, he gave me not
only a courteous but very cordial reception ; and the
impressions which I had received concerning him
were fully justified by his fine person, his bland and
engaging manner, and the agreeable and elevated
tone of his conversation.
I should think him rather below than above the
middle size ; and in his countenance there was so
much of both intelligence and benignity, that it
was difficult to say which had the preponderance.
He was very sociable, and yet his mode of talking
was quiet and gentle, and as far removed as pos-
WILLIAMJAY. 51
sible from any thing like pretension. As I talked
with him, I found that the celebrated preacher was
gradually giving place to the kind and obliging
friend ; and I had scarcely spent half an hour in
his company, before every idea of the stranger was
gone, and I felt a degree of freedom — certainly not
unmingled with reverence — which might very well
have been the growth of years. He gave me a
very touching account of his children, part of which
was, that he had one with Christ, three in Christ,
and two near Christ. I was not a little interested
in hearing him express his opinion concerning vari-
ous distinguished personages, with whom he had
been more or less familiar. I found that he had a
great admiration of Kowland Hill, and regarded him
as having been of one the brightest lights of his
generation ; and I happened to know, I think from
Rowland Hill himself, that the regard was fully
reciprocated. Somebody told me an amusing anec-
dote about Mr. Jay's writing a letter to Mr. Hill
in his characteristic blind hand, which Mr. Hill
found it hard to decypher. His reply was, that he
had received a letter that seemed to bear his (Mr.
Jay's) signature, and if it meant so and so, so and
so would be his reply, but, if it was something else,
his answer would be modified accordingly ; but he
concluded by advising him, whenever he had occa-
sion to write to him again, to use a gentleman's
hand, and not a Jay's claw. Mr. Jay had long been
on intimate terms with Wilberforce and Hannah
52 WILLIAMJAY.
More, and he expressed an unbounded reverence
for both of them ; though he regretted to have
heard some facts which led him to suppose that
the latter had become more stringent in her denomi-
national peculiarities in latter years. He spoke with
deep regret of the utter disregard of all religion
evinced at that time by not a few of the clergy of
the Established Church ; though there were many
others for whom he entertained the profoundest re-
spect, as evangelical, excellent men. He mentioned
that even the celebrated Dr. Parr did not at all
scruple at an irreverent use of the name of the Su-
preme Being ; and that, on one occasion, when he
was dining with a lady of a serious character, and
was conversing on some subject that required him
occasionally to speak Greek, the lady reproved him by
saying, " Doctor, I wish, for the sake of my servants,
that you would talk English, and swear in Greek."
Mr. Jay, it is well known, was indebted, in a
great measure, for his training, to the Kev. Mr. Win-
ter, whose life and character he has so graphically
sketched. He talked a great deal about him, and
in a manner that betokened the utmost reverence,
gratitude, and affection. John Newton, too, he was
well acquainted with ; and he did not hesitate to
say, that Newton and Winter were the two .holi-
est men he had ever met with.
I found that he was a mortal enemy to preach-
ing or hearing three sermons on the Sabbath. " The
third/1 he said, " batters the mind rather than im-
WILLIAMJAY. 53
presses it." He mentioned that when he was in
Scotland, some time before, Dr. Chalmers remarked
to him, that very few ministers, who were likely to
be of much use to the world, were allowed to die
a natural death ; that they were killed by the godly ;
that they would go and stroke their heads, and
talk to them about the loud demand in Providence
for ministerial labour ; and in that way the devil got
rid of them often some twenty or thirty years sooner
than he would have done otherwise.
I had the privilege of hearing Mr. Jay preach, but
not in his own chapel. It so happened that he was
engaged to preach at Bristol the same Sabbath that
I was to spend there ; and, indeed, I had the pleas-
ure of making the short journey from Bath to
Bristol in his company. He went there to supply
the pulpit of a clergyman who was absent ; if I
mistake not, it was the celebrated William Thorpe.
Though Mr. Jay had lived so long quite in the
neighbourhood of Bristol, and, of course, must have
been often heard there, I noticed that everybody
seemed glad of an opportunity of hearing him ; and
as the house was crowded, I suspected he was a
good deal of an attraction. His manner in the pul-
pit was a beautiful compound of simplicity, dignity
and grace. His fine, open, beaming face ; his melo-
dious voice and perfectly distinct articulation ; his
gesture, as unstudied as his breathing ; his elevated
and yet familiar and affectionate style of address, I
confess, gave him an advantage over most of the
54 WILLIAMJAY.
excellent speakers whom I have heard on either side
of the water. Those who have heard the late Dr.
Abbot, of Beverly, preach, have witnessed the near-
est approach to Jay's manner that has ever come
under my observation. It is needless for me to de-
scribe the sermon I heard from him, as everybody
knows his peculiar style ; and besides, the outline
of the sermon, I observe, constitutes one of his
" Morning Exercises." What evidently formed one
chief element of his power, was the perfect con-
gruity that existed between his matter and man-
ner. It seemed to me that every sentence was ut-
tered in a way to secure to it the highest possible
effect. His prayers, though as simple as the lan-
guage of childhood, were yet so rich in evangelical
thought, and withal so beautiful and faultless in
expression, that it was difficult for me to believe
that they had not been elaborated with devout care.
I have heard men preach who gave me a higher idea
of force of intellect than Mr. Jay ; but in the class
of preachers to which he belonged, I believe it is
generally acknowledged that he was without a rival.
Probably no clergyman, on either side of the
water, enjoyed, during the same period, a higher
degree of popularity than William Jay. His remark-
able attractions were acknowledged in the Estab-
lished Church as well as out of it ; and his works,
which are based on the broadest principles of evangel-
ical Catholicism, seem to have Diet an equally cordial
welcome among Christians of every communion.
VIII,
AND
HPHEKE was a good deal in the way of intellectual
and literary distinction in Bristol and its neigh-
bourhood, to render a visit there desirable to me ;
but the chief attraction, I must acknowledge, was
EGBERT HALL. My attention was first directed to
his works, when I was in college, by hearing Dr.
Dwight say, that his sermons on Infidelity were the
brightest gem in the literature of the English pul-
pit ; and such had always been my admiration of
him, that I took good care that none of the pro-
ductions of his pen should escape me. And when
I found myself within about a hundred and twenty
miles of him, (for that is the distance from London
to Bath,) I resolved that it should not be for the
want of the requisite pains, if I should leave Eng-
land without seeing and hearing him.
I reached Bristol some time on Saturday, and the
most important point which I had to settle on my
56 ROBERT HALL
arrival was, whether Mr. Hall was in town, and
would preach the next day. I had two introductory
letters to him — one from Eowland Hill, and one
from an intimate friend of his in London, to whom
I knew he was under great obligations ; so that I
felt tolerably strong in calling, as I did, Saturday
night, to pay my respects to him ; and yet, had I
known as much before as I did afterwards, of his
extreme aversion to seeing company, I scarcely think
I should have had the courage to seek an intro-
duction to him. He received me courteously, but
told me that he was suffering extreme pain, as,
indeed, he had been during the greater part of his
life. He was rather shabbily dressed ; but with
such a commanding person and countenance as he
had, he could well afford to be ; for it must have
been a singular eye that would have been detained
by his dress, let it have been what it might. His
face has been made so familiar to everybody by
numerous engraved likenesses, that it would be need-
less to attempt to describe it ; and yet the most
perfect portrait of him that I have seen, is not so
perfect but that the original, as it has always lain
in my memory, casts it into the shade. Having
ascertained that he would preach the next morn-
ing, I took my leave of him, promising, however,
to see him again at his house, early in the week.
I went the next morning to Broadniead Chapel,
to hear him preach. It was, by no means, a large
building ; nor was the congregation, in point of
AND JOHN FOSTER. 57
numbers, anything like what I had expected ; though
I understood it was select, and had in it an unusual
proportion of intelligent men. One of the tutors
in the Baptist Theological Academy at Bristol, per-
formed the introductory services, and it was not till
they were singing the second time, that Mr. Hall
walked into the pulpit. His gait was slow and ma-
jestic ; and if I had known nothing of him before,
I should have needed nobody to assure me that he
was some extraordinary personage. He rose and an-
nounced his text in the most unpretending man-
ner that can be imagined, and in so low a tone that
I found it difficult to understand him. For sev-
eral minutes there was no material improvement in
his style of elocution — he kept pulling the leaves
of his Bible, as if he were a book-binder, engaged
in taking a book to pieces ; and his eyes were stead-
fastly fixed in one direction, as if his whole audi-
ence were gathered into one corner of the room. I
said to myself—" If this is Kobert Hall in England,
I greatly prefer to meet him as I can in America ;
for I had rather read his writings, than merely hear
his unintelligible whispers." Presently, however, the
scene began to change ; and his voice, though still
low, became distinctly audible. For the first fifteen
or twenty minutes, he said nothing which would
have led me to inquire who he was, if I had not
known ; . for the last twenty-five or thirty, it seemed
to me that he said scarcely anything that could
have been said by another man. It was like an
3*
58 ROBERT HALL
impetuous mountain torrent in a still night. There
was not the semblance of parade — nothing that be-
trayed the least thought of being eloquent, but
there was a power of thought, a grace and beauty,
and yet force, of expression, a facility of command-
ing the best language, without apparently think-
ing of the language at all, combined with a counte-
nance all glowing from the fire within, which con-
stituted a fascination that was to me perfectly
irresistible. As he advanced to the close of his dis-
course, the effect upon my nervous system was like
the discharge of artillery ; and though I was com-
pletely rapt with wonder and admiration, I was not
sorry when he said — "Let us pray." I shall, per-
haps, be less suspected of extravagance in this
statement, when I say that Eobert Hall's own peo-
ple regarded this as an extraordinary performance ;
and one of his intelligent hearers told me that I
might have heard him for years, and not have
chanced to hear so fine a sermon.
At the close of the service, observing that Mr.
Hall passed into the vestry from which I had seen
him come, I ventured, after a moment, to step in
and pay my respects to him ; and I found him
stretched out upon two or three chairs, with his
pipe already in his mouth ; and I was assured that
he always smoked up to the last moment before
going into the pulpit. He introduced me to several
of his friends, and especially to a Dr. Stock, who
was just at that time a good deal talked about for
AND JOHN FOSTER.
59
his having recently renounced Unitarianism. He re-
quested me to come and see him the next day, and
said he should beg me to go home with him then,
but that he was so much exhausted after preaching,
\ .A ^*~ !
as to be unfit for any conversation.
When I called upon him after dinner, on Mon-
day, I found him lying down upon chairs, and liter-
ally writhing in agony. After a few minutes, he
called to his wife for his accustomed opiate, laud-
anum, and took three hundred drops, and after a
short time, poured out as much more, and drank
it as if it had been water. I found that he had
made arrangements to take me to the house of a
friend to pass the evening, where there was to be a
small party, and among them the celebrated John
Foster. This was to me an evening of great in-
terest. Foster was there, and he and Hall bore the
chief part in the conversation, each rendering the
other more brilliant. Foster expressed to me the
opinion that Ha'll was unquestionably the greatest
preacher in the world ; and Hall told me that Fos-
ter was the best model of an ancient philosopher
now extant. Foster was a tall, stately, and some-
what rough-looking man, given to saying weighty,
and sometimes witty things ; and though he was,
on the whole, a remarkably fine talker, he was cer-
tainly greatly inferior both in fluency and in bril-
liancy to Hall. A little circumstance was related
to me, as having occurred a short time before, that
was strikingly illustrative of Foster's disregard of
60 ROBERT HALL
his personal appearance. As he was going to dine
with a friend who lived about a mile and a half
from his residence, with an intention of passing the
night with him, he took along with him his night-
clothes. As they hung out a little from his pocket,
a person met him in the field, and said, " Well, I Ve
got you at last." Foster, not understanding the
strange salutation, asked the fellow what he meant.
" You need not make strange of it," was the reply,
"for I know you; you are a thief." "But what
have I stolen ?" " You shall know what you have
stolen — you shall go directly with me to a magis-
trate." "I am Mr. Foster, of Stapleton." "You
are not Mr. Foster, for he is a gentleman, and you
are not." "Well," says Foster, "if you are de-
termined to carry me to a magistrate, I must go
with you, of course ; but suppose you go with
me to Mrs. C/s, and see what they say about me."
To this the fellow consented ; and when the servant
came to the gate, Mr. Foster asked him to tell that
man who he was. When the servant said " Mr.
Foster," the poor fellow who was taking him into
custody instantly fell upon his knees, and begged a
thousand pardons.^ Mr. Foster did not mention the
affair to the company immediately on going into
the house, but he was observed frequently to smile
and bite his lips during the dinner, which finally led
to an explanation.
Among other subjects that came up in the course
of the evening was that of Lexicography. Hall had
AND JOHN FOSTER. 61
no patience with the modem taste for multiplying
words beyond what he thought the progress of civili-
zation required ; and he maintained that the object
of a dictionary should be to ascertain and fix the
legitimate meaning of words, rather than, by need-
lessly introducing new ones, to keep the language
in a state of constant fluctuation. He went into
a somewhat lengthened argument, showing the ut-
most familiarity with philological subjects, as well
as the most exact and cultivated taste ; and
the splendour of his diction, even while he was
talking about the philosophy of language, was
equalled only by the rapidity of his utterance.
During nearly the whole evening, he was lying in
his favorite posture, stretched upon two or three
chairs, and, every now and then, refreshing us with
the fumes of the weed. Before we separated he of-
fered a most pertinent and affectionate prayer, which
recognized, in a truly felicitous manner, all the pe-
culiar circumstances under which we were met.
The next afternoon I spent at Mr. Hall's house,
by invitation, when I had the pleasure of being
alone with him and his family. Though he was
constantly in pain, and was frequently using his an-
tidote in such quantities as would have seemed in-
credible, if I had not witnessed it, yet he was all the
time beyond measure brilliant and interesting. No-
thing impressed me more than his high appreciation
of the talents of other men, whom the world would
have pronounced greatly inferior to himself, while he
62 ROBERT HALL
could not have the least patience with anything like
unreasonable pretension or arrogance. He spoke of
certain divines in our own country in terms of un-
measured respect — he mentioned particularly Dr.
Mason, and Dr. Dwight, and above all President
Edwards, as among the brightest stars in the theo-
logical firmament ; while I remember he spoke of
one whom he had never seen, but of whose self-
complacency he had had rather a revolting demon-
stration, with an air of most scathing sarcasm. He
was well acquainted with the celebrated Eobert
Robinson, of Cambridge ; and he regarded him as,
without exception, the most powerful and delightful
man in conversation, and the most engaging preacher,
he ever knew. He expressed his astonishment that
Dr. Mason was so great an admirer of John Owen —
as for himself, he said, he could not endure him ;
and though Owen had certainly poured out a world
of matter, it was matter in the sense of pus. He
talked with great enthusiasm of the celebrated
Thomas Spencer, of Liverpool, and had no doubt
that he was the most effective preacher, so far, at
least, as manner was concerned, that had arisen since
the time of Whitefield ; though he had never seen
him, and formed his opinion upon testimony alone.
He had much to say on the subject of preternatural
admonitions, spectres, &c. ; and he did not hesitate
to avow himself a believer in such things, though he
was aware that he did it at the expense of being
thought superstitious. Indeed, he told me two or
AND JOHN FOSTER. 63
three regular ghost stories, for the truth of which
he stood ready to vouch. He could scarcely find
language to convey his idea of the excellence of his
predecessor at Bristol, Dr. Ryland. I was told that
some one once reported something to Mr. Hall, which
he at first pronounced incredible ; but when Dr.
Kyland was mentioned as the authority, he said —
" Did Dr. Kyland say so, Sir ? Then it is true,
Sir; for I would as soon receive his testimony as
the affidavit of seven archangels." I remained with
him till after eleven o'clock, and then left him, not
more impressed with his greatness than his sim-
plicity and generosity. As I was coming away, he
gave me one of his printed works, with an affec-
tionate inscription to me on the title-page, with
his own hand. I never saw him after parting with
him that evening.
IX.
A S Barley Wood was but about ten miles from
Bristol, it was impossible that I should be so near
the residence of its far-famed occupant, without, at
least, making an effort to see her ; though the ac-
counts which I had heard of her feeble health, and
her inability to see even her own friends, left me
with little hope that any effort I could make would
be successful. Still, as there was some hope, I re-
solved to try ; and, accordingly, left Bristol early
one morning, accompanied by Mr. H , a gen-
tleman who showed me great kindness, determined
to see Barley Wood at any rate, and Mrs. MORE if
it were possible. The morning was bright, the coun-
try beautiful, and the ~ride altogether delightful,
except for the doubtful success of our enterprise.
At length, we found by inquiry, (for this was my
friend's first visit to that famous spot,) that we were
within a short distance of the gate that opened to
Mrs. More's grounds. As we entered the enclosure.
HANNAH MORE. 65
we were met by a servant, who relieved our appre-
hension of disappointment by telling us that Mrs.
More was in comfortable health, and would doubt-
less be happy to receive us. Her dwelling was a
thatched cottage, standing on a graceful declivity,
and overlooking the church and village of Wring-
ton, a charming verdant vale, Bristol channel, and
a range of distant hills.
The servant left us in the parlour, while he went
to take to Mrs. More my introductory letters, one
of which was from Dr. King, now of Athens, and
the other from Mr. Wilberforce. As we were de-
tained a few moments, I occupied myself in looking
at the engraved likenesses, which nearly covered the
walls of the room ; and I noticed, what, indeed, had
been remarked to me by some other person, that not
a Dissenter's head was to be found among them
all ; an indication, I was told, of what was really
the case, that Mrs. More's Christian sympathies, es-
pecially in her latter years, were almost exclusively
with the Church of England. There was also in
the room a small miscellaneous library, in which I
noticed a copy of Bishop Dehon's sermons, a volume
or two of the Panoplist, and, I believe, some other
of our American publications.
In due time the servant came back, and con-
ducted us into her room, which was in the second
story ; and, though a Catholic could scarcely feel
more reverence in approaching the Holy Virgin than
I did in approaching her, the very first words she
66 HANNAH MORE.
*
spoke, without diminishing my reverence, relieved
me from every feeling of embarrassment, and made
me forget the extent of her fame in the familiar
gentleness of her manner. She was at that time
eighty-three years of age ; she was rather below the
medium stature ; her features were remarkably regu-
lar, her complexion clear and bright, her eye gentle
but expressive, and her countenance altogether glow-
ing with benignity and intelligence. Her hair was
powdered, and her dress rich and even elegant, con-
sidering that she was at home, and was only receiv-
ing a morning call. She had one or two female
friends with her when we entered the room ; but
they almost immediately withdrew, so that our con-
versation was exclusively with her, during nearly
the whole of our visit.
She at once adverted to the fact of my having
brought her a letter from her "dear friend, Mr.
Wilberforce," and inquired with great interest in
respect to his health ; and when I told her that -I
had, a few days before, passed a most delightful
morning with him, she replied that she had no
doubt it was a morning spent on the threshold of
Heaven ; and then added, that he was one of her
oldest friends ; that his writings had done great
good, especially among the higher classes of British
society ; that his visits to her had always been a
source of great comfort, and his prayers in her fa-
mily were really heavenly. She expressed great ad-
miration for Mr. Jay and Robert Hall ; though she
HANNAH MORE. 67
knew the former mtich better than the latter. Jay
she regarded as one of the most delightful charac-
ters, and interesting preachers, she had ever known ;
and as for Hall, she thought his powers of intellect,
especially of eloquence, were unrivalled — his compo-
sition she considered as absolutely perfect ; and
though she had sometimes read his productions to
see if she could not find some fault, she had never
discovered anything in them that seemed to her to
admit of being changed for the better.
She observed, as a peculiarity of her mental con-
stitution, that she had never been "able to quote
from her own writings ; and it had sometimes hap-
pened that a friend had read to her an extract
from one of her own books, and then amused her-
self by making her pass judgment upon it in the
dark. She could not even recollect the titles of
many of her volumes ; and having occasion to refer
to one of them, as she was conversing with me, she
said — " I do not remember the title ; but it is some-
thing about Christianity, I believe."
As she was evidently desirous of gratifying our
curiosity as much as possible, she took us into an-
other apartment, which was her sleeping room ; and,
pointing to a fine old arm-chair, said very pleas-
antly— " That chair I call my home/7 She ob-
served that she had three different prospects from
as many different windows of her house ; and, look-
ing out of a window in the room where we were —
" Here," said she, " is what I call my moral pros-
68 HANNAH MORE.
pect. You see yonder distant hill, which cuts off
the prospect beyond. You see the tree before my
window, directly in range of the hill. You observe
that the tree, from being near, appears much higher
than the hill, which is distant. Now, this tree rep-
resents, to my mind, the objects of time — that hill,
the objects of eternity. The former, like the tree,
from being near and distinctly seen, appear great ;
the latter, like the hill, from being seen in the dis-
tance, appear comparatively small."
She presented me with a copy of the last work
she had sent forth — on the "Spirit of Prayer" —
with a very kind inscription from her own hand.
She said it was a compilation from her other works,
made when she was so feeble as to be confined to
her bed, with the expectation of never rising from
it ; that she felt the importance of the work, and
determined to send it to the press, if only fifty
copies were sold ; but, that in less than six months,
eight thousand were disposed of. She presented me,
also, with another book of her's, entitled " Hints to
a young Princess ;" and she accounted for its not
having been printed in America, as her other works
had been, from the fact that our's is a republican
government ; but she said that, with the exception
of forty pages, it was suited to the education of the
higher class of females generally. She dissuaded
the Princess Charlotte from learning music, on the
ground that it was beneath her rank, that it would
occupy time that might be spent to better purpose,
HANNAHMOKE. 69
t
and that she could always have professors of emi-
nence to perform in her presence. She spoke of
the Princess as a most amiable and promising char-
acter, whose death was a great affliction to the
country, and whose example, if she had lived, would
have exerted a most benign influence upon the
higher classes. Mrs. More had a strong conviction
that she possessed a truly Christian character, and
that her end was peace.
She expressed a very kind solicitude concerning
my health, which was at that time somewhat im-
paired ; and when I told her that I had suffered
severely from a derangement of the nervous system,
she said her experience enabled her to sympathize
with me, and she thought nothing was more im-
portant to me than to avoid undue excitement. The
disciples, she remarked, could sleep in sorrow ; and
she had found that she could sleep better, after a
day of affliction, than after a very exciting inter-
view. Her whole character through life, she repre-
sented as having been marked by impatience ; she
did not mean that impatience that would lead her
to be angry with servants and those around her,
but that which led her to push on a work, when she
had commenced it, till it was completed ; and to this
she attributed the fact of her having written so much.
After we had sat with her a considerable time,
she directed her servant to conduct us around
her " little domain," as she called it ; and, as
we went out, she requested us to take particu-
70 HANNAH MORE.
lar notice of a monument she had erected to the
memory of John Locke, and another in honour of
her "dear friend," Bishop Porteus. She told us
that that place had been in her possession twenty-
six years ; that when she purchased it, it was in a
wild, uncultivated state ; and that whatever trees or
shrubs we should see, were planted by her own
hand. As we walked over the grounds, we were
sometimes almost hidden in the foliage ; and we
found continually, at short distances, the monuments
of her taste, and skill, and industry. The most re-
markable thing that I remember, was a Druidical
temple, as Mrs. More called it, made of knots of
wood, disposed in the most fanciful manner.
When we returned from our ramble, she had pro-
vided lunch for us ; and while we remained, she con-
tinued to converse with much animation and inter-
est. She mentioned several of her acquaintances in
the United States, with great respect and good will ;
but no one, I think, with quite so much apparent
cordiality, or, perhaps, in terms of so high praise,
as the late Thomas H. G-allaudet, of Hartford. She
spoke, also, with great affection, of her " little deaf
and dumb correspondent," at Hartford, Miss Alice
Cogswell, and said that she had written her some
of the wittiest letters she had ever read. She was
very particular in her inquiries respecting my own
family, including the number and ages of my chil-
dren, &c., and expressed her earnest wish that Provi-
dence might restore me to them in safety. Just
HANNAH MOKE. 71
as I was about to take my leave of her, she looked
at me with intense earnestness, and said — "I beg
you will not forget me in your approaches to a
throne of grace. I have a high estimate of the im-
portance of intercessory prayer ; and I feel that I
am a poor creature, who needs an interest in the
prayers of God's children as much as any one." She
then shook hands with me very affectionately, and
thanked me for my call ; and we parted. But, after
I had got out of the house, a young female friend,
who was staying with her, came to the door, and
said that Mrs. More wished her to show me a copy
of an American edition of her works, which she
highly valued, and which had been, some time be-
fore, presented to her by a gentleman in New York.
I accordingly stepped back, but was mortified to
find that the execution did little honour to American
skill in book-making. The typography and paper
were both very indifferent, and the binding was in
tawdry sheep, looking as if it were designed for a
book auction. . .
As we left Barley Wood, we rode, at Mrs. More's
suggestion, into the village of Wrington, about half
a mile distant, where was the church in which she
had been accustomed to worship, when her health
would permit, and, also, the house where the illus-
trious philosopher, John Locke, first saw the light.
The house was occupied by Mrs. More's washer-,
woman, who seemed quite familiar with the fact,
but evidently knew nothing of the man.
72 HANNAH MORE.
On my return to Bristol, I was congratulated by
my friends on having obtained even a sight of Mrs.
More, especially on having enjoyed 'such an inter-
view with her ; and was assured, that it was a rare
thing that any visitor was equally fortunate.
X.
TjOCTOB M'CALL, during nearly the whole of
•^ his ministry, was deservedly reckoned among the
greater lights of the British pulpit. He died early ;
but not till he had gained a reputation as a
preacher, and as a man of genius, that will never
die. He published but little, and had a great aver-
sion to publishing anything ; but, after his death,
there was a selection from his discourses printed
in two large volumes, in connexion with an interest-
ing memoir of his life, by his intimate friend, Dr.
Wardlaw. I have always wondered that these vol-
umes have never been reprinted in this country.
They certainly give but an imperfect idea of what
the author was ; and yet they contain an amount
of rich and powerful thought, and an exuberance
of splendid imagery, which fairly entitle them to be
ranked among the first productions of their day.
I had never heard of Dr. M'Call till I arrived in
England ; but, from that time,, his name was men?
4
74 D R . M < C A L L .
tioned with the greatest respect in almost every
circle into which I was thrown. I was particularly
advised not to leave England until I had heard
him ; and was assured that, if he lived, it would
not he long hefore his name would be known in
the United States as familiarly as that of Kohert
Hall. I accordingly made my arrangements to pass
a Sahhath at Manchester, with a view of hearing
him preach ; and I arrived there on Friday, with
an intention to accomplish this favourite object. I
did accomplish it in the spirit, though not in the
letter ; as will appear in the sequel.
What I saw of Dr. M'Call was so very striking
and characteristic, and, withal, so honourable to his
feelings as an amiable man, that I have felt in-
clined, at least ever since his death, to make a state-
ment of it ; and yet I was so immediately associ-
ated with the main affair, that I have always felt
a difficulty in speaking of it, lest I should seem to
be making a report chiefly of my own experience.
Hoping, however, that my motives will not be mis-
understood, and presuming that there is no one
living whose delicacy will be wounded by what I
am about to say, I will venture to state the very
characteristic incident to which I have reference,
substantially as I find it in the journal which I
kept at the time.
Having stopped, on my arrival at Manchester, at
the house of a friend, I was introduced, in the
course of the evening, to Mr. H , a highly re-
DR.M'CALL. 75
spectable member, and, I believe, a deacon, of Dr.
M'Call's church. He kindly offered to take me the
next morning to call upon the Doctor ; though I
felt reluctant to intrude upon him, especially as it
was Saturday, when I supposed he might be en-
gaged in preparing for the Sabbath. I finally con-
cluded to avail myself of the invitation of Mr.
H , to make a short call. On my introduc-
tion to him, which was quite early in the morning,
I was struck with his benign and animated ex-
pression of countenance, and his winning and even
#
affectionate manner ; and scarcely had I sat down,
before he said, in a tone of great earnestness — " I
hope, Sir, you are not engaged to preach both parts
of the day, to-morrow ?" " No, Sir," said I, " I am
not — that would defeat the great end of my visit
here ; I came on purpose to hear you" " My dear
Sir," said he, in a still more earnest tone, "you
must not say one word against preaching for me,
and I am sure you will not, when you are made ac-
quainted with the circumstances of the case." I
besought him to consider it as entirely out of the
question ; but he went on to state a number of
reasons why he thought it was my duty to occupy
his pulpit part of the day, the most weighty of
which seemed to be, that he had been engaged to
preach a charity sermon, on that Sabbath, in Dr.
Wardlaw's church, in Glasgow ; that he had writ-
ten to Dr. Wardlaw that he could not fulfil the
engagement on account of ill health ; but yet, that
76 DB. M'CALL.
if I did not preach for him, he should be obliged
to appear in the awkward and somewhat contradic-
tory attitude of preaching twice and administering
the communion, after having sent such an apology
to Glasgow. Though I had not at first the least
idea of yielding to his request, yet he so completely
overpowered me by his eloquent importunity, that
I finally ceased to say anything — not because my
mind was changed, but because my arguments were
exhausted ; and this he immediately construed into
compliance ; and upon the strength of it, he said —
" Well, my dear brother, I cannot tell you how much
I feel obliged to you ; and now I am entirely at
your command during the day." He kept his word
most faithfully ; and I believe never left me at all
until eleven o'clock at night. It was a sore disap-
pointment to rne that I was not to hear him preach ;
but it was some compensation that I should have
the opportunity of hearing him in the communion
service.
Agreeably to previous arrangement, I met him in
the vestry of his chapel (Mosely street), a few min-
utes before the time for commencing the morning
service. Having arrayed me in his canonicals, he
accompanied me to the pulpit stairs, and immedi-
ately withdrew ; and though I supposed he was
somewhere in the audience, I did not know where,
until just before I finished my sermon, when I no-
ticed him sitting in a pew directly before me. His
countenance showed me that his strong sense of
DR. M'CALL. 77
gratitude, for my having obliged him by preaching,
had made him a very indulgent hearer. The mo-
ment I was at the end of my sermon, and had
turned round to get the hymn book, (for in the Dis-
senting churches, in England, the last singing im-
mediately follows the sermon,) Dr. M'Call was upon
his feet, announcing my name and residence to the
audience, and telling them that I was to preach that
evening for the Eev. Mr, Coombs, in the chapel at
Salford ; and, as it was probably the last sermon I
should ever preach in England, he should be most
happy to have as many of the congregation as
would, go and hear me, notwithstanding he expected
to occupy his own pulpit. I saw clearly that his
gratitude and good will had got the better of his
prudence, and had brought my modesty to quite
too severe a test ; and I verily believe that I per-
formed the rest of the service without meeting a
single eye in the congregation. When the blessing
was pronounced, I went back into the vestry to lay
off the gown and bands, and Dr. M'Call immediately
followed me. I saw in a moment that he was in a
state of great excitement, and that he was strug-
gling against his feelings in attempting to speak.
" My dear brother — my dear brother," said he — " I
cannot express it — I never had such feelings — I ac-
knowledge I am acting like a child" — and immedi-
ately extended both arms and embraced me, at the
same time uttering loud sobs. Though I knew not
what was the matter, I frankly acknowledge that he
78 DR. M'CALL.
worked up my sympathies, so that I cried too ;
and it was fortunate for us both that there was not
a third person present, to turn the scene into ridi-
cule. I quickly found that the whole secret of it
was, that his gratitude for my consenting to preach
for him, at what he knew was a great sacrifice, had
predisposed him to hear me with a spirit which had
not only disarmed criticism, but had given to a
barely decent sermon such attractions as it never
had before, and has never had since. It was unfor-
tunate for me that he would be likely to compare
notes with some of his congregation on the subject,
though I thought that his convictions were too
strong to be easily shaken. " But, now," said he,
"my dear brother, there is only one unpleasant cir-
cumstance attending this ; and that is, that I am
thrown into such a state as to be utterly unfit to
perform the communion service — will you not con-
sent to take that also?" "Oh," said I, "Dr.
M'Call, you must excuse me ;" and he instantly re-
plied— " I have no right to make such a request
of you, and I am ashamed to have done it ; but will
you not consent fo go and sit by my side, and take
the service in case I should find myself unable to
proceed ?" To this I consented, though I was not
quite certain what the result might be, as I saw
he was far from having regained his accustomed
composure. When he rose to speak, his chin quiv-
ered, and it was with some difficulty that he uttered
the first sentence or two ; but before he had pro-
DR. M'CALL. 79
ceeded far, lie was not only himself, but much more
than himself ; and he spoke for nearly half an hour,
in a strain of eloquence which, I think I may safely
say, I have never known to be even approached on
a similar occasion. He introduced his remarks by
an allusion to the circumstance of my having come
from another country, and having preached the same
Gospel which they were accustomed to hear ; and,
from this, went on to speak of Christians in all
parts of the world being bound together by a com-
mon faith ; referring to different parts of my dis-
course in illustration of the truths which he was set-
ting forth. His whole soul was evidently on fire.
Sometimes he swept along with the force of an
avalanche, and sometimes there was a melting ten-
derness, which it seemed as if nothing could with-
stand ; and, during the whole time, his face shone
as if it had been the face of an angel. I have
heard, more than once since, that his own people
remembered that effort as one of the most remark-
able they ever heard from him ; though, of course,
they knew nothing of the very singular affair which
had preceded it. I doubt not that, on the whole,
I was indebted to the circumstance of my having
consented to preach for him, so much against my
wishes, for a much more remarkable exhibition of
his intellect, as I certainly was for a much nearer
view of his sensitive and generous nature, than I
should have had in hearing him in the ordinary
course of his Sabbath day services.
80 D B . M ' C A L L .
I never saw Dr. M'Call after I parted with him
at the door of his chapel, as we both preached in
the evening, and I left early the next morning. But
there was that in him that made an impression
upon my memory and my heart, that promises to
stand well the test of time. His lovely, beaming,
perfectly illuminated countenance ; his voice, re-
markable alike for its melody and power ; his
thoughts, the brightest and loftiest ; his words, the
most felicitous, and coming forth with a lightning-
like rapidity ; his whole manner showing the deep
and powerful working of the inward fire — all con-
tributed to render him one of the most perfect of
pulpit orators ; while the exquisite tenderness and
delicacy of his spirit, the grace and gentleness of
his manners, and his great generosity and fervent
piety, rendered him one of the finest specimens
both of a man and of a Christian.
XI.
(MADAME NET.)
AND
WAS indebted to the Mndness of Dr. Baird (and
what American, who visited Paris during a period
of several years, was not indebted to him ?) for an
introduction to the DUCHESS DE BKOGLIE ; not
more distinguished as the wife of the Duke, than
as the daughter of Madame de Stael. She had
been pointed out to me the Sabbath morning be-
fore, with her daughter, at the chapel at which Mr.
Audubez officiated, and where I understood she was
82 DUCHESS DEBROGLIE.
a regular attendant. Both she and her daughter
were dressed in the most simple manner, and there
was nothing in the appearance of either to indicate
that their home might not have been in some re-
tired and humble dwelling. Through Dr. Baird's
kindness, an appointment was made for my calling
upon her; and I quickly found that I could not
have been presented under better auspices. We
called at the appointed hour ; and, after a little de-
lay, the Duchess appeared, and met us in the most
simple and unostentatious way imaginable. She was
a lady of fine personal appearance, spoke very good
English, but sometimes hurried her words together,
so that it was not easy to understand her. She
seemed greatly interested in the religious state of
things in the United States, and especially in the
revivals of which she had heard so much ; and she
could not be satisfied with anything short of the
most minute details respecting them. Indeed, she
put questions to me with so much rapidity, that
if I had not felt quite familiar with the subject on
which she wished for information, she would have
been obliged to wait somewhat for my answers, not-
withstanding I was using my native language, and
she a foreign one. She spoke with great appar-
ent concern of the state of the Koman Catholic
Church, of which I knew that her husband was a
member ; and expressed the opinion that it was
gradually to lose its distinctive character by being
reformed, rather than to be formally abandoned.
MADAME NET.
She wished me to give her an account of my
own Christian experience ; and, though the request
seemed a little odd, considering that it was our first
meeting, it was made with such manifest sim-
plicity and sincerity, as to relieve me from all em-
barrassment in answering her inquiries. On the
whole, she impressed me as one of the most de-
lightful examples of earnest, practical Christianity,
in the higher walks of life, that I had ever met
with. While her conversation indicated the high-
est intelligence and refinement, it showed no less
that she regarded it as her greatest privilege to be
a learner at the feet of Jesus. She wrote me a
kind note before I left Paris, but this was the only
interview I had with her.
I had the pleasure of spending an hour or two
in the family of MARSHAL KEY. I had an introduc-
tion from a member of the family of the late Citi-
zen Genet, who was the uncle of MADAME NET,
and was received with as much warmth, as if I had
been a friend of many years' standing. While I
was conversing with them, I could not keep my
thoughts from the horrible scenes through which
the family had passed, and especially that by which
they had been deprived of their illustrious head.
Madame Ney had as many questions to ask as the
Duchess de Broglie, though they were generally of
a very different character. Though she had not
seen her uncle since she was quite a child, she drew
84 MARSHAL GROUCHY.
from me everything in respect to his life, and death,
and family, that I knew ; besides, I "believe, asking
me some questions that I was not able to answer.
And when we had disposed of Citizen Genet, she
fell to questioning me about myself and my family ;
and if her object had been to bring out my
biography in a book before I left Paris, she could
scarcely have descended to more minute particu-
lars. I do not mean that there was anything about
it that seemed in the least impertinent or obtrus-
ive ; on the contrary, all her inquiries were made
with such apparent kindness and good will, that I
felt myself honoured in answering them. She spoke
once or twice of her husband, but it was only an
incidental remark or two, and I did not feel myself
at liberty to ask any questions concerning him — es-
pecially any that looked towards his tragical end.
She was rather a large, portly woman, and a per-
fect lady in her manners, though I felt it a great
drawback that she did not speak a word of Eng-
lish. Two of her family, however, who were at
home, spoke it pretty well ; and we found it con-
venient to put them in requisition, occasionally, in
carrying on our conversation. One of the sons whom
I saw was the Prince of Moskowa.
I was the bearer of a letter to MARSHAL GROUCHY,
from a very eminent man in this country, who had
known him pretty well in former years ; but, unfor-
tunately, both his person and his name had faded
MARSHAL GROUCHY. 85
from the Marshal's memory. It made no differ-
ence, however, as to the reception I met with ; or
if there was any difference at all, I think it was
rather in my favour, as the veteran General seemed
disposed to make up, by rather an exuberance of
kind offices, for the defect of his memory. He was
at that time about seventy-five years old ; was of
rather a slender habit, and not much, if at all,
above the middle height, with a countenance rather
strongly marked, and looking as if he had not al-
ways been in a state of repose. I visited him by
invitation several times, and he always seemed de-
sirous of knowing if there was any way in which he
could be useful to me. He talked freely about Na-
poleon and Louis Philippe, who was then upon the
throne, and gave me many interesting incidents in
his own history, going back to the old French
Kevolution. Probably there was no person then
living who was more familiar than he with the
events of that period, or who was better acquainted
with the prominent characters that figured in it ;
and he seemed to have forgotten nothing. One
morning, when I went to breakfast with him, I had
the pleasure of seeing him make the coffee, boil the
eggs, and, so far as I could discover, cook the whole
breakfast.
XII.
SPENT an hour with GENERAL BERNARD. He had
been so long in this country, that he seemed
to have somewhat of the American feeling — at least
he made intelligent inquiries on various subjects
GENERAL BERNARD. 87
concerning the United States, on all of which he
seemed to be quite at home. A friend who was on
intimate terms with him, called with me, and he re-
ceived us in his study sans ceremonie, and appar-
ently with much cordiality. It was just at the time,
during General Jackson's administration, when our
relations to France had assumed a somewhat dubi-
ous aspect ; and this, almost immediately, became
the subject of our conversation. He expressed the
opinion that there was no danger of a war between
the two nations, though he thought both were in
fault — the conduct of Mr. Livingston, our Minister,
he censured in no moderate terms ; and General
Jackson's famous message he pronounced an outrage
upon the dignity of France. At the same time, he
said that he had a high respect for General Jack-
son's private character, and thought him an excel-
lent man. As we rose to come away, after sitting
with him a considerable time, he said that I must
not go until I had seen his family, and immediately
took me into the parlour, and presented me to his
wife and daughters, whom I found exceedingly
agreeable ladies, and all speaking English as readily
as I could speak it myself. They had quite the
appearance of an American family, and were glad of
an opportunity to inquire for their friends in this
country, many of whom were personally known to
me. General Bernard was a fine specimen of a
French gentleman, and everything about his family
bespoke the highest degree of refinement.
GUIZOT.
Through the kindness of Marshal Grouchy, I had
a letter of introduction to GUIZOT, then Minister of
Public Instruction ; but when I called to deliver it,
I did not find him at home. He, however, immedi-
ately addressed a note to me, requesting me to re-
peat my call the next day at ten ; but, as the next
day was the Sabbath, I was obliged to excuse my-
self. He then appointed another day, requesting
me to breakfast with him ; and this invitation I ac-
cepted. I found him an exceedingly good-looking
man, rather below than above the middle height, but
an uncommonly compact and well-formed person.
He met me with a look and air of great urbanity,
and began immediately to converse about America,
as fast as his poor English and my poor French
would permit. The subject that seemed chiefly to
interest him, was education. He wished to know
everything about our educational plans, apparently
with a view to turn the information to some account
in furthering the same cause in his own country.
Though there was nothing in his remarks that was
particularly profound — much less that had the least
appearance of showing off, yet it was manifest that
he spoke out of the depths of a rich, philosophical,
and highly-cultivated mind. His manners, as he was
a Frenchman, could not be otherwise than graceful ;
but he had also an air of dignity and stability that
I missed in a good many of his distinguished coun-
trymen.
LOUIS PHILIPPE. 89
The last, though not least, of the magnates of
Paris, whom I wish to include in these notices, is
Louis PHILIPPE. He was to hold a levee one even-
ing at the Tuilleries, to which one of my friends pro-
cured for me an invitation. It was the most splen-
did affair in its way, that it has ever been my
fortune to witness. Military officers and other dis-
tinguished individuals from almost every nation were
there, each dressed in his appropriate costume.
About half-past eight a door at the end of the im-
mense hall in which the company were assembled,
opened, and the King, Queen, and two or three
daughters, made their appearance. The Princesses
had each a splendid bouquet, and the younger of
them seemed very beautiful. There were, I should
think, nearly two hundred ladies standing in a line
on one side of the room, ready to be introduced to
the royal family as they passed along. The King,
of course, took the precedence. He reminded me
strikingly, by his general appearance, as I believe
he has done many other persons, of Dr. Ezra Stiles
Ely. I cannot conceive of grace and dignity being
more perfectly commingled than they were in his
manners. He seemed to have a word for every lady
that was presented to him, that left a smile upon
her countenance ; and I thought I noticed that the
more beautiful ladies detained him the longest. I
went with the expectation of being presented to
him myself ; but I found that he advanced so
slowly that my turn would not come for two or three
90 GEORGE WASHINGTON LAFAYETTE.
hours ; and, as I was too much fatigued to remain
in a standing posture all that time, I betook myself
to a place of less splendour, but better accommoda-
tions. Louis Philippe was then in his greatest
glory — little did he dream of the ignominous flight
and exile that awaited him.
There was one individual in Paris whom I had
felt specially desirous of seeing, rather on his
father's account than on his own — I mean George
Washington Lafayette. I had a letter to him from
a very distinguished individual in this country, to
whom he was under strong personal obligations. I
called and delivered my letter shortly after my ar-
rival in Paris, but was informed that he was passing
a few days in the country. With the letter, how-
ever, I left my card, indicating my address. After
a short time, I ascertained that he was at home,
and expected, of course, that he would honour the
letter of his friend, at least so much as to call
upon me. As, however, I heard nothing from him,
I thought it possible that the letter had not been
delivered to him ; and a few days before I was to
leave, I addressed him a note, apologizing, however,
for the liberty, and saying that I should be glad
to pay my respects to him, if it should suit his con-
venience. I received no reply to my note, and left,
of course, without seeing him. When I mentioned
GEORGE WASHINGTON LAFAYETTE.
91
the circumstance to some person well acquainted
with his character, he remarked that it did not at
all surprise him, and left me with the impression,
that his chief distinction consisted in bearing vener-
able names.
XIII
AND
TF there was anybody in or about Geneva, whose
acquaintance I was particularly desirous of mak-
ing, it was the great historian, SISMONDI. His resi-
dence was about a mile and a half from the city,
and it was arranged, through the kindness of a
friend, that I should go out, and pass an evening
with him. I accordingly did so, and the visit sup-
plied me with much material for grateful and en-
during recollection.
I found him — as he had assured me in a note,
which I received from him the day before, that I
should — alone with his family ; and his family con-
sisted of only his wife and her sister. He received
me in the most familiar way, so that it was diffi-
cult for me to feel that I was meeting a stranger.
I should think he was at that time about sixty
years old ; in his person, he was short and thick,
SISMONDI.
with a prodigiously large head, a very black eye,
and a most intelligent expression of countenance.
He spoke English without difficulty, though he
would frequently forget himself, and begin to speak
French. He also, now and then, made an amusing
blunder, though not to compare with one that was
perpetrated about the same time by another emi-
nent man, with whom I was conversing, and who,
speaking of a crime which had been committed in
Switzerland not long before, by a Catholic priest,
remarked, that "He tried to steal (hide) his crime,
and that he was afterwards hung-ed" Sismondi be-
gan almost immediately to converse about American
slavery ; and, though he evinced much less of igno-
rance and prejudice on the subject than most of
those whom I met, yet he took the European side
of the question with considerable earnestness. He
talked a good deal about the literati of the preced-
ing generation, with whom he had been familiar,
and especially of Madame de Stael, with whom he
kept up an active correspondence for many years.
He had many inquiries to make concerning Miss
Sedgwick, which, unfortunately, I could answer
only in general ; he spoke of her as his intimate
friend, and his admiration of her and her writings
seemed to be unbounded. As his wife was an Eng-
lish lady, and Sir James Mackintosh was his brother-
in-law, he seemed to be as familiar with the promi-
nent literary characters of England as with those
of his own country. He was a great admirer of
94 SISMONDI.
Robert Hall ; and when I mentioned that I once
had the privilege of hearing him preach, he desired
me to tell minutely everything I could remember
concerning him. The comparative merits of Wil-
berforce and Hannah More were discussed ; and the
conclusion which he seemed to have reached was,
that Mrs. More was much the more highly gifted of
the two, and that she had done more for her gener-
ation than almost any other individual, male or
female. He spoke in terms of the highest respect
of Dr. Channing, and ranked him, unhesitatingly,
among the most eloquent writers of the day. Both
he and Madame Sismondi manifested a mortal aver-
sion to " Methodism," meaning by it the system of
religion taught by the Evangelical School at Geneva,
and were very lavish of their praises of the National
Church. They remarked that both England and
America had sent large sums of money thither,
which had been worse than thrown away upon the
cause of separatism ! I perceived that their relig-
ious sympathies and mine were not much in har-
mony ; and this, I suppose, they might have dis-
covered, though I did not feel myself called upon
to enter into any controversy with them. Sismondi
impressed me as an exceedingly good-humoured and
witty man ; and he would often throw such a ludi-
crous air about even grave matters, that I found it
difficult to keep from being convulsed with laugh-
ter. He was a sort of man who would draw you
to him irresistibly, as well by his warm social aftec-
DECANDOLLE. 95
tions, as by his brilliant conversation and extensive
knowledge.
DECANDOLLE, as everybody knows, was no less
celebrated as a botanist, than Sismondi was as an
historian. I called, agreeably to a previous arrange-
ment, at his house, and was met by his son, a young
gentleman of most amiable and modest appearance,
who was then the acting professor of botany in the
academy. He immediately conducted me into his
father's study, where I found him engaged in read-
ing. He was rather a short man, with a fine, open
expression of countenance, and as far removed as
possible from anything like ostentation. He was, at
that time, fifty-nine years of age. I offered him
two or three of my general letters of introduction,
but he very politely refused them ; and when his
son, who acted as our interpreter, intimated to him
that there was one from Albert Gallatin, with whom
he was acquainted, that I wished him to read, he
simply opened it, and looked at the name, and
handed it back to me. This was according to a
common usage on the Continent, which does not
allow it to be consistent with good manners to read
an introductory note in ' the presence of the person
who delivers it. He was so very modest, that I was
obliged to play Yankee in order to find out what I
wished to know concerning the results of his la-
bours. He told me that his first work — a splendid
folio, that sells for twenty pounds sterling — was pub-
96 DECANDOLLE.
lished in Paris, when lie was only twenty years old ;
that he hacl published in all upwards of thirty vol-
umes, most of which he showed me by my request ;
that he had given his course of lectures for forty
years, and had then :setired from the professor's
chair, though he was not aware that his active pow-
ers had begun seriously to wane. His son accom-
panied me through the rooms in which he kept his
herbarium — the most extensive in the world, and
showed me the manner in which the plants were ar-
ranged and put up. I was informed that he had
been offered a professorship at Paris, with an im-
mense salary ; but he declined the offer from con-
siderations of mere patriotism. He gave me a
manuscript of his, of considerable extent, which had
been published, and which anybody might afford to
place among his literary treasures. I have never
seen a great man more simple and modest, and
apparently unconscious of his greatness.
XIV.
AND
T HAD heard much of BLUMHAKDT as the head of
the missionary school at Basle, both before and
after leaving America ; and while I was in Paris,
the Rev. Frederick Monod had given me a note of
introduction to him. Soon after my arrival in Basle,
I found my way to his residence, and delivered my
letter ; and much to my surprise, before I had time
to deliver it, he asked me if he had not the pleas-?
ure of speaking to — calling me by name ; the secret
of which was, that somebody had enclosed a letter
to him for me, informing him that I should prob-
ably arrive about that time. He received me with
a degree of cordiality and affection that was as
grateful to me as it was unexpected ; and, though
he was only fifty-six years old, there was something
about his manner that was truly patriarchal.
Mr. Blumhardt was the founder of the missionary
98 BLUMHARDT.
institution over which he then presided. It had
been in successful operation since the year 1815,
had sent out about one hundred and twenty mis-
sionaries, and at the time I was there, numbered
thirty-seven students, who were under the care of
three Professors, beside the Principal. What im-
pressed me first, and most, in respect to Blumhardt,
was his admirable Christian simplicity, in connexion
with his intense devotion to the work in which he
was engaged. He spoke with great interest of the
zeal which was manifested by the American churches
in the cause of missions, and remarked particularly
upon the high qualifications of American ladies to
become missionaries' wives ; and added, that he
wished more of them might go to the missionary
stations, that they might be taken up ! I accepted
an invitation from him to dine with the students at
twelve o'clock. I was introduced, a minute or two
before the hour, into the dining hall ; then came
Mr. Blumhardt, and after him the students, and
then the family who provided for them. After all
had arranged themselves around the table, the ven-
erable Principal, instead of asking a blessing, re-
peated a hymn in German, which the students sung.
The dinner was served up on pewter plates, and was
very simple, of course, as the charge for board was
only about half a dollar per week. When the din-
ner was over, one of the students gave thanks in
verse ! The Principal did not dine with us, but
retired to his own apartment immediately after the
BLUMHARDT. 99
hymn was sung, in preparation for sitting down to
the table. As an instance of Mr. Bluinhardt's con-
siderate kindness, I may mention that he happened
to discover, what I had not discovered myself, that
I had torn my over-coat ; and while I was at my
dinner he had contrived to send it to the tailor's
and have it mended, so that the mending should
not occasion me any detention.
After having shown me the likenesses of all the
students he had sent out into the missionary field,
he carried me over the town, and pointed out to me
whatever he thought most worthy to be looked at.
He accompanied me to the public library, and intro-
duced me to Professor Gerlach, the Librarian, who
showed me many curious and valuable relics of the
time of the Eeformation. Professor G. asked me if
I knew Mr. Edward Everett ; and then went on to
say that he was a fellow-student with him many
years before at Gottengen, where he earned many
laurels ; and when I told him of the eminence to
which Mr. Everett had since risen, he seemed to
think that it was nothing more than he had given
promise of, twenty years before. Blumhardt intro-
duced me also to an intimate friend of Oberlin, who
was full of interesting anecdotes of that remarkable
man. He gave me an engraved likeness of Oberlin,
which he pronounced very perfect ; and another indi-
vidual, shortly after, gave me a still rarer treasure,
in one of his manuscript sermons. Oberlin had, un-
doubtedly, in some respects, an exalted character ;
100 VINET.
but he partook largely of the German superstitions
of his time ; and if he had lived at this day, would
have been a firm believer, and a vigorous defender,
of the spiritual rappings. An old professor in the
University of Strasbourg, who knew him most inti-
mately, assured me that his supposed intercourse
vith the spiritual world, through the medium of
ghosts, &c., was almost an every-day matter.
I had a letter of introduction to PROFESSOR VIKET,
and one of the students of the missionary school
accompanied me to his dwelling. He had at that
time acquired a great reputation in Europe, es-
pecially on the Continent, as a profound theologian
and philosopher ; but comparatively little was known
of him in this country. In stature he was rather
above the ordinary size ; was firmly and compactly
built ; was of an uncommonly dark complexion, and
had an eye the most keen and piercing. His health,
he told me, was very imperfect, insomuch that he
was greatly embarrassed in his literary and profess-
ional engagements ; though I could then discover
nothing in his appearance that indicated it. The
subject on which he seemed most disposed to con-
verse was American revivals ; and though he was, on
the whole, inclined to think favourably of them, I
thought I could discover in him some lingering
doubts. He expressed a strong desire to examine
the subject further, and by the best light he could
command, and wished me to furnish him with any
V I N E T . 101
works on the subject that could be relied on as
testimony in regard to the important facts. He
seemed to look at the whole matter with the eye
of a philosopher, as well as a Christian. My inter-
view with him was not long ; but it was long enough
to leave upon my mind an ineffaceable impression
of the power and grandeur of his intellect. He
seemed kind and friendly, and offered me letters
of introduction to some of his friends in Germany ;
but was not much disposed to talk about common
matters. During the few years that he lived after
I saw him, he was constantly growing in reputation
and usefulness ; and after his death, he was often
spoken of in connexion with Chalmers, not only as
having died about the same time, but as possessing
a kindred genius and spirit.
XV
fTlHE individual whom I was most interested to see
v in Frankfort-on-the-Mayn, was DK. PINKERTON,
well known for his travels in Russia. He was born
and educated in Scotland, had resided in Russia
many years, and finally settled at Frankfort, as the
General Agent of the British and Foreign Bible
Society, where, for aught I know, he remains to
this day. Having been furnished with a letter of
introduction to him, I delivered it shortly after my
arrival in Frankfort, and it procured for me every
attention I could have wished. He seemed, at that
time, to be about fifty-five years old, had a well-
formed, erect person, of about the middle size, and
was the more interesting to me from being an
almost perfect fac-simile, in his appearance, of one
of my friends at home.
When I first met him he was at his office, at the
depot of the Bible Society ; and, as he walked with
me through the immense establishment, he remarked,
DR. PINKERTON. 103
in reference to the great number of Bibles they had
on hand, that that was the artillery with which they
were prosecuting the war against rationalism. I
took tea with him the same evening, and had the
pleasure of an introduction to his family. After we
had disposed of the two great subjects of American
slavery and American revivals, in both of which, by
this time, I felt myself to be anything but a novice,
the Doctor proceeded to give me an account of the
state of religion in Germany ; and, though it is
now eighteen years since I had the conversation with
him, it may, perhaps, not be amiss to state the
substance of it ; or rather the substance of the in-
formation which he communicated to me. He stated
that Infidelity, which, in times past, had been com-
ing out in a covert form from the chairs of theo-
logical professors, &c., was then becoming bold and
impudent ; that an infidel of great talents, who was
at that time in prison for writing a blasphemous
novel, had justified himself by a reference to the
"Life of Christ," by Dr. Paulus, a theological pro-
fessor at Heidelberg ; that the great controversy
thenceforward was to be between Atheism and
Evangelical Christianity ; that a large part of the
good people of Germany believed the doctrine of
Universal Kestoration, though they were rather cau-
tious about openly avowing it ; and, as an illustra-
tion of the lax notions that prevailed among them
in respect to the observance of the Sabbath, he
stated that certain pious young ladies, who had
104 DE. PINKERTON.
been reproved by one of his daughters for knitting
on Sunday afternoon, told another of his daughters
that they had profited by the reproof, inasmuch as
they had determined to devote the avails of their
labours on Sunday to missionary purposes ! He
gave me many interesting details illustrative of the
superstitious tendencies of the Germans, and espec-
ially of the progress that was then making in
animal magnetism ; and though I have since wit-
nessed at home much greater feats than he de-
scribed, I was quite confounded by some of his
statements, and could imagine no way of accounting
for them, but on the principle of jugglery. He
actually performed one or two experiments in my
presence, which seemed to evince some hidden power
in nature that had only begun to develope itself;
and though I did not think the Doctor particularly
inclined to be superstitious, much less to be in com-
munion with any evil spirit, I was quite sure that
he was capable of doing some things which he was
as little able to account for as I was myself. He
seemed to think that some good had come from the
doctrine of animal magnetism, especially as it had
supplied a satisfactory argument to some skeptical
minds, in favour of the immateriality and immor-
tality of the soul. The system of homoeopathy,
which was then scarcely known in this country,
had attained considerable notoriety in Germany ;
and the Doctor expounded to me its leading prin-
ciples, and was evidently inclined to the opinion
DR. PINKERTON. 105
that it was destined to mark an epoch in the his-
tory of medicine. Indeed, he had provided him-
self with the largest and most splendid box of the
infinitesimals which I remember ever to have seen ;
and I actually submitted to be dosed by him, though
I could not say that the result proved anything,
either for or against the new system. During my
brief stay in Frankfort, Dr. Pinkerton rendered me
every possible attention, and I retain to this day a
most grateful remembrance of him and his amiable
and accomplished family.
There was another clergyman whom I saw at
Frankfort, of considerable distinction, to whom I
was introduced by a letter from Professor Merle
D'Aubigne, of Geneva— it was the Kev. Mr. Bon-
net— himself from the neighbourhood of Geneva, and
educated at the University of Basle. He was ex-
ceedingly urbane, intelligent and obliging. He gave
me a most deplorable account of the religious state
of things in Frankfort, and assured me that the
great truths of Christianity were completely over-
looked in most of the Protestant Churches. He
took me to see a venerable and somewhat celebrated
man, Dr. Meyer, who was the author of many im-
portant works, and among others, of a revised edition
of Luther's Bible. He seemed to be, as I was as-
sured he was, a very devout Christian, and a man
of great learning ; but, in regard to the doctrine
of retribution, it was thought that he held a some-
what equivocal attitude. Mr. Bonnet, in order to
5*
106 DR. PINKERTON.
give me the best view of the city, ascended with
me the tower of an ancient church ; and, after we
had gone up two hundred feet, we found an old
man and woman as snugly domesticated there, as
any couple that could have been found on the terra
firma below. The old man might be said to hold
a high official station ; for not only was he elevated
a good distance above the rest of the world, but he
was also holding the office of an alarmist, in case of
fire. When I expressed to him my surprise on
hearing that they had lived there five years — "Oh,"
said he, " That 's nothing ; there is a steeple yonder
upon which we have lived nineteen 1"
XVI.
AND
acquaintances which I formed at Weimar
were so associated with certain incidents con-
nected with my visit there, that it is not easy for
me to avoid saying something of the latter, in
order to furnish a satisfactory account of the former.
I reached Weimar, the far-famed seat of intel-
lectual refinement and residence of distinguished
men, at three o'clock of a cold February morning.
As the conductor of the diligence knew I wished to
stop there, I took for granted that he would at least
drop me at an hotel ; but I found, to my conster-
108 D K . R 0 E H R .
nation, that lie had actually set me down at the
post-office, and that there was not a person there
who understood even French. When I discovered
what my condition was, I ran to the diligence to
ask the only person in it who could speak French,
to request some one at the post-office to direct me
to an hotel ; but that moment the cracking of the
whip announced that the unwieldy old carriage was
on its way to Leipsig, while I was left dumb among
a set of people whose tongues had been trained to
nothing but German. I noticed, however, at that
moment, that one of the passengers who had per-
secuted me by smoking all the way from Frank-
fort, had left the coach, and, I supposed, would be
looking out for a place to sleep. Though I did not
know but he was going straight home, I deter-
mined, as a last resort, to hold on to his skirt ;
and even if it should turn out that he brought up
at his own door, I intended to make all the ex-
ternal demonstrations of distress I could, to induce
him to give me a shelter till I could find accommo-
dations elsewhere. Fortunately for me, however, he
wanted lodgings himself at an hotel, and knew where
to go for them ; and after walking a few steps — I
keeping at his side — he rang a bell, which quickly
brought a servant to the door. I was not perfectly
sure, even then, that I was at an inn ; but, after
a few words of conversation between him and the
servant, we were both admitted into the house and
shown into a chamber in which there were two
DR. EOEHR. 109
beds ; and I immediately threw myself into one of
them, and knew nothing more until I was awaked
in the morning, by the servant coming to inquire
if we wanted breakfast. I said, with as much
confidence as if I had lived all my life in Paris,
" Parlez vous Frangais ?" " Oui, Monsieur," was the
prompt reply. " Parlez vous Anglais ?" " Oui, Mon-
sieur," was again the delightful answer ; but sadly
was I disappointed to find that the fellow knew
not enough even of French to comprehend the ques-
tions I had put to him. I succeeded, however, in
making him understand the difficult proposition,
that I wanted breakfast, and supposed also that I
had got through his hair the somewhat more def-
inite idea that I wanted three eggs ; but what was
my surprise at the demonstration of his intelli-
gence, which he quickly made, by bringing me three
small loaves of bread ! I found it easy to forgive
him, however, as he treated me to a good laugh ;
and more than that, he showed his substantial good
will by making some effort to meet my necessities.
While I was at my breakfast, there came up a very
respectable looking young man, who told me that
the servant had mentioned to him that there was
an English gentleman there, who could not speak
German, and wished for some one to interpret ; and
that he had come in to offer his services. I very
gladly availed myself of them, and thought of no-
thing but that I had engaged a regular guide, at
the rate of a Prussian dollar a day.
110 DR. R O E H R .
Accordingly, we sallied out shortly after break-
fast, and the first person upon whom I called was
Dr. Koehr, the celebrated preacher of Weimar, and
one of the most eminent of all the German Ra-
tionalists. I told my guide that he might remain
outside the door, and, if it turned out that he was
wanted as an interpreter, I would give him notice.
I had a note to Dr. Roehr from Cheneviere of
Geneva, who was, in all respects, a kindred spirit ;
but whom I found very gentlemanly, and much dis-
posed to show me good offices. The Doctor hap-
pened to be in his library, engaged in his studies ;
but he received me with great courtesy, and seemed
desirous of doing what he could to make my
visit agreeable. Our conversation, which was half
French, half English, was principally about the em-
inent men of Weimar ; the last of whom, Goethe,
had then just departed ; and he showed me the
likenesses of some of them, which he seemed to have
treasured with great care and reverence. He was
a person of grave, venerable aspect, of agreeable
manners, and was reckoned, at that time, as one
of the great lights in his school of theology. He
expressed great regret that we had no common
medium of free communication, and said that the
best service he could render me was to introduce
me to a Dr. Weissenborn, a German teacher of
English, who, besides having a perfect knowledge
of the English language, was a most obliging and
friendly man. I found Dr. W., in all respects, what
DR. FEOKIEP. Ill
Dr. Koehr had represented him, and was indebted
to him then, as I have been since, for some very
kind attentions, and even important services.
I made several calls, in the course of the morn-
ing, under the direction of my volunteer guide, and
at twelve o'clock he remarked that he believed he
must excuse himself, as he had an engagement at
that hour. I handed him a dollar, and he asked
me what it was for. "For your services this morn-
ing," said I. Then, for the first time, I discover-
ed my mistake in supposing that he was one of
the professional guides. It turned out that he was
a young gentleman of a highly respectable family
at Frankfort, and that he was then on a visit to
a young lady at Weimar, to whom he was engaged
to be married ; and as he gave me a narrative,
showing that his courtship had not been, through-
out, a matter of plain sailing, I had the oppor-
tunity of returning his kind offices, not only with
sympathy, but, as he requested it, with a little
advice. He did not seem to take my mistake in
dudgeon, and remarked that it was quite natural
that I should have made it.
-I was desirous, for some particular reasons, of
seeing Dr. Froriep, a celebrated geographer. I had
no particular introduction to him ; but I ventured
to call upon him on the strength of my general
introductions. I handed him several letters, but
he seemed to care little for any, except one from
General Jackson, which he read, despite of German
112 . DK. FKOBIEP.
etiquette, two or three times over, and remarked
that it was most felicitously written. He immedi-
ately took me in charge, and devoted the rest of
the day to me, which was the greater favour, as
he had the perfect command of my mother tongue.
He carried me in his carriage, all over town, point-
ing out to me the residences of Herder, Schiller,
Weiland, and Goethe, all of whom he had known
well. Griesbach, too, had been his intimate friend,
and he gave me a pleasant memorial of him. I
took tea with him in the evening, when I had the
pleasure of meeting his wife and daughter. He
asked me if I was willing that they should see the
"remarkable* letter of General Jackson, which I
had shown him in the morning ; and after they
had read it, he took it and went into an adjoin-
ing room, and made a copy of it ; and when he
returned it to me, repeated, for the third or fourth
time, that it was "really a remarkable letter." He
expressed great interest in our American institutions,
and seemed familiar with the names and characters
of many of our great men — Everett, Ticknor, Hen-
ry Dwight, and several others, he knew personally,
and expressed great regard for them. Madame
Froriep spoke in terms of great reverence and af-
fection of Herder, and said that he was the clergy-
man who officiated at her marriage.
Dr. Weissenborn, the teacher to whom Dr. Eoehr
had introduced me, offered to make me acquainted
with Madame de Goethe, the daughter-in-law of
MADAME DE GOETHE. 113
the great poet, who occupied the house in which
he had always lived. We were actually on our
way to call upon her, when we met her in some-
thing that resembled a litter, borne by two men
— a convenience, I suppose, for avoiding the mud
in the streets. As soon as she alighted, and went
into her mother's house, Dr. W. sent in to inquire
at what hour she would find it convenient to re-
ceive me, and she mentioned five o'clock in the af-
ternoon. I accordingly went at that hour ; and she
met me with a frank, good-natured air, that put
me at my ease in a moment. As I had no par-
ticular introduction to her, I showed her the Gen-
eral's letter, which had already come into great
repute, and she too read it with no small inter-
est. She was a most agreeable and intelligent per-
son, and was the mother of three children, the
two younger of whom were so strikingly like their
grandfather, that I recognized their resemblance to
his portrait the moment I saw them. Mrs. Jamie-
son, the English authoress, was at that time do-
mesticated with her, and I had the pleasure of
making her acquaintance also. Madame de Goethe
brought out several little memorials of her illus-
trious father-in-law, intending to give me one of
them ; and, as she selected that which she con-
sidered most valuable, she asked Mrs. Jamieson
whether she did not think that she could afford to
spare that, but at the same moment put into her
hands my letter from General Jackson, telling her
114
MADAME DE GOETHE.
not to answer her question till she had read that
letter. The result was, that the choice relic was
made over to me. I spent but twenty-four hours
in Weimar ; but it was certainly a multum in parvo
visit.
XVII.
&0.
fTIHE first person on whom I called, on my arrival
in Halle, was Professor THOLUCK. My reason for
this was not merely that I felt a deeper interest in his
character than in that of any other person at Halle,
(there were few, indeed, of whom I knew anything,)
but that I had previously had some little correspond-
ence with him, which gave me a claim to recognise
him almost as an acquaintance. In his appearance
and manners, he was quite a different person from
what I had expected. He was rather above the
medium height, of a slender frame, and of an easy,
flexible habit. He did not complain of ill health ; but
his face, at that time, was pale, and looked as if he
were used to trimming the midnight lamp. As I had
been accustomed to associate with him the idea of a
reformer, I supposed I should find him more than
116 T H O L U C K .
ordinarily grave and demure, and somewhat a man of
one idea ; but instead of that, I found him cheerful,
versatile, and highly communicative as well as intelli-
gent, on every subject that came up. His wife had
died not long before, and his sister was then keeping
house for him ; and she, with two or three students,
who were boarders, constituted his entire family. Dur-
ing the four or five days that I spent in Halle, I saw
much of him, and had a good opportunity, in some
respects at least, of appreciating his character. No-
thing about him struck me more forcibly than his won-
derful simplicity. One would have supposed, from his
general appearance, that he was utterly unconscious of
both his position and his power ; and yet, whenever
his mind was directed to any subject of importance, it
was wonderful with what energy it acted, and how he
seemed to have everything at command that bore
upon it. The subject that seemed uppermost in his
thoughts was the motley and anomalous religious state
of things in his own country. He mentioned to me
the names of certain German Professors, who had not
only a European, but a world-wide reputation, whose
lectures upon the Bible, though very able and learned,
were sometimes little better than blasphemous satires
upon the Word of God. He considered, however, that
the religious prospects of Germany were, on the whole,
brightening, and supposed that, from that time, the
great conflict would be between Pantheism and Evan-
gelical Religion. He had himself suffered much for his
bold avowal and earnest vindication of what he consid-
GESENIUS. 117
ered the true Christian doctrine ; but he was evidently
then much in the ascendant ; and I was assured
that there was no clergyman in the region, whose
preaching commanded so much attention and respect
as his.
I attended one of Tholuck's lectures ; but as it was in
German, everything but the manner was lost upon me.
He read it sentence by sentence, with the utmost de-
liberation ; and the students meanwhile, (sixty-four in
number, if I counted right,) all became vigorous scribes.
He would occasionally, however, extemporize a few sen-
tences, and then he spoke more rapidly, and with a
good degree of animation. I noticed that there was
something written in German characters on the desk,
immediately in front of my seat, and on inquiring of
an English gentleman who accompanied me, and who
could read German, what it was, he translated it thus :
" Tholuck is a mad herring and a crazy fellow." He
mentioned to me, at the same time, that in another
lecture-room it was written — " Tholuck is immeasur-
ably fanatical." These significant testimonials, how-
ever, were supposed to have been recorded some time
before, when they were much more expressive of the
general estimation in which he was held, than they
were at that time.
GESENIUS was a still greater surprise to me than
Tholuck. It seemed to me that I had heard of him,
in connection with Hebrew, almost as far back as I
knew that there was such a language ; and I was pre-
118 GESENIUS.
pared to find deep furrows all over his face, winch my
imagination, without any great effort, could turn into
Hebrew letters. But instead of that, I found him
looking as if he were not more than forty or forty-five
years old ; rapid beyond measure in his movements ;
with nothing to indicate that he had ever been accus-
tomed to intense thought ; with a bright, cheerful,
amiable countenance ; with a mind awake to every
thing humorous and laughable ; with a heart appa-
rently glowing with kindness, and with manners the
most unstudied and familiar. I had once received a
letter from him ; and when he heard my name, he re-
membered the circumstance of his having written to
me ; and upon the strength of it, gave me the most
cordial of greetings, actually shaking hands with me
three times over. When he knew that I was to remain
for a few days in Halle, he remarked that he had his
classes to attend to during certain hours of each day,
and that all the rest of the time I might command his
services in any way that should be most agreeable to
me.
He was true to his word, and devoted the leisure of
three days to rne almost exclusively. He took me to
see every object of curiosity that he thought would
interest me, and introduced me to various persons, by
whose acquaintance I should be most likely to profit.
He seemed to me one of the most inveterate lovers of
fun that I ever met. He had treasured a vast number
of humorous anecdotes, which he knew how to dispense
on all fitting occasions, and with an admirable grace.
GESENIUS. 119
|
His English was, by no means, as good as that of Tho-
luck, though I understood him with perfect ease ; but
I remember, once or twice, his bringing forth a word,
after considerable effort at recollection, which was so
far out of the way, that it required still greater effort
on my part, of a different kind, in order to maintain a
decent gravity. He seemed to be aware that he was
not a very thorough master of English ; though this
did not at all embarrass him, as he was utterly reckless
of all mistakes.
He said nothing in my hearing that reflected, in the
least, upon evangelical religion, or its advocates ; on
the contrary, he spoke of Tholuck in terms of high and
apparently cordial respect. But it was very well un-
derstood that his sympathies, from being rationalistic,
had become pantheistic ; and that he expounded the
Scriptures as a critic, and not as a believer. I at-
tended one of his lectures, which, I think, was on a
part of the prophecy of Isaiah ; and though I under-
stood not a word of it, there was abundant evidence
that he was turning the passage that formed the basis
of his lecture into ridicule ; for, at brief intervals,
throughout the lecture, he would say something that
would throw the whole class into a broad laugh, in
which he would himself join most heartily. The Eng-
lish gentleman, to whom I have already referred, told
me that he was present at one of his lectures a short
time before, when, after having spoken somewhat at
length on the vestments of the High Priest, he sud-
denly exhibited a doll, in the most fantastic dress, in
120 GESENIUS.
order, as he said, to give them some idea of the sacer-
dotal robes. The effect was, as he evidently intended
it should be, to convulse the students with laughter.
I had the pleasure of an introduction to BARON
FOUQUET, the celebrated German poet. He seemed to
be about sixty years old, was a short, neat-looking
man ; and I was not sure but that he was handsome,
though the immense amount of hair upon his face ren-
dered it impossible for me to decide. He spoke but a
few words of English, though the gentleman who in-
troduced me to him was able to act as an interpreter.
I was told that both he and his wife — a most re-
spectable looking lady, of not much more than half
his own age — were decidedly evangelical in their views
and feelings ; and I should have inferred as much in
respect to him, from some of his remarks. He showed
me the portrait of his grandfather, who was a dis-
tinguished General in the Prussian army under Fred-
erick the Great, and withal was one of the King's
intimate friends, as was proved by a large bundle of
letters which the King addressed to him, one of which
the Baron was so kind as to present to me. Before
I left him he asked me to go into his study, that
I might associate him in my recollection with the
place where he performed his literary labors. He
offered to give me letters to some of his friends in
Berlin, and I gladly availed myself of his kind-
ness.
I saw several other highly respectable persons at
WEGSCHEIDER. 121
Halle, some of whom were well worth being remem-
bered. I had an introduction to Dr. WEGSCHEIDER,
a short, indifferent, sober looking man, who, though
a professor in some branch of theology, was not
much more, I understood, than a serious, respectable
Deist. I heard him deliver a lecture, which was made
up of about equal parts of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew,
and read as doggedly as if the lifting of his eyes from
his manuscript had been a capital offence. I saw
Professor G-RUBAR also, a highly accomplished gen-
tleman, apparently about sixty, whose intelligent and
generous face reminded me of that of the late Presi-
dent Kirkland. I met also with Dr. FRI^DLANDER,
the celebrated professor of medicine, and Dr. KOEDDI-
GER, the great Oriental scholar, the latter of whom
particularly showed himself extremely amiable and
obliging. I became acquainted also with NIEMEYER,
the son of the celebrated Chancellor of the Univer-
sity,*who took me through the famous Orphan House,
established about a hundred years before by Franke,
and, if I mistake not, the most extensive institution
of the kind in the world. He introduced me to his
mother, a lady far advanced in life, but distinguished
for her intelligence, and highly attractive even in her
old age. She had been acquainted with a large part
of the distinguished men of Germany, during the fifty
years preceding, and, by her striking anecdotes and
vivid descriptions, gave me a better idea of many of
them than I had had before. Wieland, Schiller,
Goethe, and many others of equal note, had been her
6
122 NIEMEYER.
intimate friends ; and the grace and elegance with
which she talked of them, showed how well fitted
she was to adorn such society. She seemed withal a
very benevolent person, and last, though with me
not least, she was perfectly familiar with my mother-
tongue.
XVIII
T AM not sure that I had ever heard of Dr.
•*• HEUBNER until Professor Tholuck mentioned his
name to me at Halle, and told me that he was
one of the most vigorous and earnest friends of Evan-
gelical Christianity, and that I should do myself
great injustice if I should pass Wittenberg, his
residence, without seeing him. As Wittenberg had
other attractions, on the score of its religious and
historical associations, I made up my mind that I
would stop there ; and it so happened that I ar-
rived there at daybreak on Saturday morning, and
found it convenient to remain over the Sabbath.
I called and delivered my letter to Dr. Heubner,
soon after breakfast, and found him the very quint-
essence of everything kind and amiable. He met me
so affectionately, that it really seemed unnatural, as I
had never seen him before ; but when I looked him
in the face, I read there a certificate to the perfect
124 DR. HEUBNEB.
sincerity of all his kind expressions. He was Presi-
dent of the Theological Seminary at Wittenberg, and,
I believe, was a stated preacher there also. He was
a man of moderate size, apparently between fifty and
sixty years of age, with nothing particularly strik-
ing in his face, except that it was perfectly irradi-
ated with kindly feeling. It was a disappointment
to me that he could not speak English ; and a still
greater disappointment to be assured that there was
only one person in the town that could speak it ;
and the greatest disappointment of all was, when I
succeeded in hunting up that one, to find that his
English was only an apology for English, and that,
as a medium of communication, it was a good deal
worse than my French. Dr. Heubner expressed great
regret to me that a large part of his preparation
for the Sabbath was yet to be made, so that it was
impossible for him to accompany me to see the dif-
ferent objects of interest, as he wished ; but said he
would soon send a person to act as my guide, who
was perfectly familiar with all the localities, and
would render me every service I should require.
When the person came, he proved to be an elderly
man, I should suppose over sixty, very well dressed,
and yet looking somehow as if he had put on his
best clothes for an occasion. I took for granted
that the best I could expect of him was that he
should speak French, and addressed him accord-
ingly ; but was met with the ominous shake of
the head, indicating that that was farther than he
DR. HEUBNEE. 125
had ever penetrated. Not knowing what anomalous
event might have overtaken me, I asked him, al-
most despairingly, whether he spoke English ; and
he looked at me as if he had detected some symp-
toms of hallucination, and, by a still more vigor-
ous shake of the head, answered "No." I began
to think that if I had not a blind guide, I had, at
least, a dumb one ; when, to my utter astonishment,
he began to address me in Latin, and spoke it as
fluently as any one need to speak his mother-tongue.
I happened to be acquainted with the German pro-
nunciation of Latin, so that I could understand him
without much difficulty ; and, though I had never
been trained to converse in Latin, I was surprised
to find that, when the stern hand of necessity was
laid upon me, and I was obliged to speak that or
nothing, I could frame Latin sentences, such as they
were, without any considerable hesitation. We start-
ed off with our Latin tongues in our mouths ; but
the old man had one great advantage of me — he
could speak correctly as well as fluently, as I could
not ; and, though I watched his countenance for the
evidence that I was making fun for him by my
blunders, there was not a single look from which I
should have known that I was not the best Latin
scholar in Germany. He took me to see what every
one who goes to Wittenberg sees — namely, Luther's
cell, (study,) where his writing-table — all hacked up
by a thousand thievish visitors, his music, and other
relics of him, still remain ; the spot designated by a
126 DR. HEUBNER.
tree where he burnt the Pope's bull ; the house in
which Melancthon lived ; and, finally, the church be-
neath which the ashes of both Luther and Melanc-
thon repose. All this time I was utterly ignorant
of the character of my guide, not knowing whether
he was a man of high or low degree ; and I felt
somewhat embarrassed as to the question whether
I should consider him merely as a friend of Dr.
Heubner, or some humble individual, who would ex-
pect me to pay him for his services. As I preferred,
however, to run the hazard of a mistake on the safer
side of the alternative, I ventured to slip into his
hand what I supposed was a suitable compensation,
and he accepted it very thankfully. I afterwards
found that he had been a lawyer, but was broken
down and had lost his property, and was at that
time the sexton of one of the churches.
Sunday morning, I went to hear Dr. Heubner
preach, in the very church where the great Luther
used to lift up a voice that penetrated to the ends
of the earth. As I went to the church without a
guide, I passed directly into the gallery, and took
my seat at random. As I perceived that I was
looked at apparently as an object of curiosity, and
the boys around me were even in a broad laugh,
and as I perceived also that there were two written
or printed notices lying on the board before me, I
suspected that I had, in my ignorance, taken a seat
that belonged to some of the officers of the church,
and I immediately rose and took another seat still
DR. HEUBNER. 127
nearer the boys, and, as it finally turned out, in the
midst of them. The little urchins still kept laugh-
ing, and looked at me with as much surprise as if
I had dropped down from another planet. One of
them, who sat near me, whispered to me in bad
French, and offered me his book ; but, as I had seen
the little rogue laughing at me immoderately, I con-
fess I did not feel greatly in the mood of exchang-
ing or even accepting any civilities. At length Dr.
Heubner commenced the service, and preached with
great animation, and, I have no doubt, to those who
understood him, with great interest. Once or twice,
in the course of the service, there was a pause, ap-
parently for the congregation to spend a moment in
silent prayer ; and everybody, not excepting my
little neighbours, who were trifling during the ser-
vice, put their heads down as if in devotion ; and
one of them I saw, while his head was down, still
turning his eyes towards me with a smile. There
was a very large congregation, and, with the excep-
tion I have noted, a very attentive one.
I dined with Dr. Heubner according to previous
engagement, when I had the pleasure of meeting
his family, and two or three others, among whom
was a Mr. Kothe, a very agreeable man, who was
associate Professor with him in the Theological Sem-
inary. Here I found myself in a highly intelligent
circle, not one of whom could speak a word of Eng-
lish, and who wished to talk with me, not about
what I Would have for breakfast or dinner, or on kin-
128 DR. HEUBNER.
dred themes, on which I felt myself pretty well at
home in French ; but upon some subjects compara-
tively abstract, where I knew that my French must
be an utter failure. I, however, did as well as I
could ; but I knew how well I was doing, if in no
other way, from observing in the countenances of
the young ladies a very decided conflict between
the sense of the decent and the sense of the ludi-
crous ; and, as I knew that the bell was to ring for
church at two, I watched the clock with the most
intense interest, until it finally struck the hour of
my relief. When we rose from the dinner-table,
the company, to my astonishment, fell to kissing
and shaking hands with each other ; and I had
nothing to do but walk up, and, so far as the
shaking of hands was concerned, take part in the
ceremony. Dr. Heubner accompanied me to church
in the afternoon, and we heard a sermon delivered,
without much animation, by Archdeacon Selfisch.
As soon as he had finished his sermon, he left the
pulpit, and the congregation commenced singing ;
and, when they ceased, what else should I hear than
the voice of the preacher from the altar at the side
of the church, chaunting the benediction. The con-
gregation joined in it, and it was altogether quite
an imposing affair ; though it seemed to me, espe-
cially in connexion with the minister's turning first
his back and then his face to the audience, as a little
too much like a relic of Popery to have become
an accredited part of the service in Luther's church.
DK. HEUBNER. 129
I passed the Sabbath evening with Dr. Heubner,
and was not a little interested and edified by his con-
versation. He knew Schleusner, the author of the
Lexicon, well, as he resided at Wittenberg, and I
rather think was associated with him as a Professor
in the Theological Seminary. He spoke of him with
great respect as a scholar ; but remarked that his
theology was not of a very high type, though he
was by no means a rationalist. I took leave of the
Doctor at the close of the evening, having seen
enough fully to justify the favourable opinion that
Professor Tholuck had expressed concerning him.
He seemed to me the apostle John over again.
When we parted, he embraced me, (yes, imprinted
upon my cheek a literal, bona fide kiss,) and left
me with a benediction as fraternal as if I had
been allied to him by a much nearer tie than that
of the common humanity. Old Wittenberg is a
mean, dirty place in its exterior, but it is glorious
in its associations.
6*
XIX.
AND
TYTEANDER was the first person upon whom I
called at Berlin, after I had got fixed at my
hotel. He was just going out to his lecture, but he
received me with the greatest kindness, and made
an appointment for me to call in the evening, when
he would be at leisure. I had scarcely seen a dis-
tinguished person before, who did not appear to me
to resemble somebody whom I could think of among
my American acquaintances ; and I was accustomed
to note the resemblance in my journal, to aid
me subsequently in recalling the countenance ; but
Neander's face was not to be compared with any
that my eye had ever rested on. It was in a high
degree Jewish, and yet I should doubt whether
it ever had its prototype in any Jew, from Abra-
ham down to Neander's own father. Without at-
tempting to describe the peculiar expression of his
countenance, I may mention that he was a small
NEANDEB. 131
man, of very dark complexion, and a fine black eye,
though he kept his eyes so nearly closed when he con-
versed, that it was only now and then that one could
fairly get a sight of them. I was greatly struck with
his simple and cordial manner ; and felt, from the
first moment that I heard him speak, an irresistible
conviction that he was perfectly sincere and trust-
worthy in everything.
I spent an hour with him in the evening, accord-
ing to appointment ; and saw more of him, during
the ten days that I passed in Berlin, than of almost
any other person. He spoke of many of my country-
men, who had resided at Berlin, in terms of great
respect and affection ; but I thought he seemed to
have been specially drawn towards Professor Hodge
and Dr. Sears, both of whom, he was sure, would
prove an honour to their country. He told me that
evangelical truth on the one hand, and Pantheism
on the other, were making rapid progress in Ger-
many, and that it was not easy to say which was
advancing most rapidly. -He spoke in a manner
that indicated the highest respect and reverence for
the King ; and when I asked him concerning the
King's religious character, he remarked that he had
no doubt that he was a truly pious man. I ex-
pressed some astonishment at that, from having seen
it stated in a French newspaper that I had taken
up, that he attended the theatre on the Sabbath.
"But," says Neander, "I suppose you know that
the same views of the Sabbath are not entertained
132 NEANDER.
in Germany as in England and America — I do not
entertain the same myself." I replied that I was
aware of that ; but that I did not suppose that
those who professed to be evangelical Christians
would attend the theatre on the Sabbath. To
which he replied, "I would not go to the theatre
any day of the week ; but there is nothing that I
would do at any time, that I would not do on Sunday,
if convenience required it." He spoke of the long
prevailing nationalism in Germany as a thing upon
the wane ; and, though he was as far as possible
from having any sympathy with it, he expressed his
apprehension that many opposed it with a bad spirit ;
and, by representing the case worse than it was,
rather helped to bind men more closely to their
errors, than to effect their deliverance. His heart
seemed to be very much in the cause of revivals,
and in the cause of missions. He told me that
some of the documents which had reached him on
the subject of American revivals, he had caused to
be translated, and had done his utmost to secure
their circulation among the good people of Germany.
Somebody hact sent him a few numbers of the Mis-
sionary Herald, published at Boston, and he seemed
to have devoured them with the utmost avidity. He
had no doubt that our noble country was to have
a chief agency in evangelizing the world.
My curiosity was gratified — I cannot say that my
mind was particularly enlightened — by attending one
of his lectures on the "Life of Christ." The room
NEANDER. 133
in which the lecture was delivered, had been, origin-
ally, a splendid one ; but it had been suffered to go
to decay, and withal had accumulated quite as much
dirt as was consistent with health, and a good deal
more than was consistent with decency. The number
of students in attendance was large — I should think,
not less than four hundred. After I had waited in
the lecture-room a good while, the worthy professor
made his appearance ; and a singularly plain, and
to me perfectly unique, appearance it was. As he
came in, his head was down, as if he had lost some-
thing that he was trying to find ; and among other
attractive articles of dress, was a huge pair of boots,
which he wore outside of his pantaloons, and which
came up nearly to his knees. I noticed, on his en-
tering the room, and several times during the lec-
ture, that there was a hissing among the students,
which I feared, at the moment, was intended as an
insult to the lecturer ; but I soon learned that it
was nothing more than a demand for perfect silence.
Neander's manner of lecturing indicated the extreme
of modesty and diffidence ; but there was nothing
about it that was in the least degree attractive. His
eyes seemed never to be more than half open ; but they
were steadily fixed upon his paper. On one hand he
rested his forehead, and with the other he was whirl-
ing about a goose-quill ; and once in twenty seconds,
upon an average, according to an accurate estimate
by my watch, he entertained us by spitting ! I know
not whether this was the effect of disease or habit ;
134 N E A N D E R .
but I should charitably hope, and I think some-
body told me, that it was the former. He delivered
his lecture standing, and bending over a desk in the
most ungraceful posture ; but his utterance was dis-
tinct, and sufficiently loud to fill a large room. I
could see that the lecture was listened to with great
attention, and the lecturer was evidently regarded
with the highest respect.
After the lecture was closed, Neander took me
into another part of the building, and introduced
me to several professors of illustrious name, and
then proposed to me to take a " promenade'' with
himself and his sister — not the sister who kept house
for him, but one who was then on a visit to him from
Hamburg — a lady who seemed to have very little
in common with himself, her personal appearance
being uncommonly attractive, and her spirits buoy-
ant almost to excess. She spoke English with great
ease ; though she insisted upon it, for some time,
that I knew German ; and when I assured her of
the contrary, she laughed immoderately at the idea
of my attending a German lecture.
Immediately on my introduction to Neander, he
asked me if I would dine with him the next Sun-
day ; and, as it presented to me the alternative of
dining in a Christian family or in a hotel, I had no
scruples in accepting the invitation. He had, more-
over, requested that I would come in the morning,
and accompany him to hear a very eloquent preacher ;
to which also I consented. When the Sabbath
NEANDER. 135
morning came, however, the weather was so un-
favourable that I felt obliged to write him a note,
saying that, with a severe cold which I had already
taken, I did not think it safe to trust myself in a
cold church, but that I should still hope to be with
him at dinner. He answered my note in English,
approving of my purpose to keep in the house dur-
ing the morning, but expressing the hope that I
should be able to dine with him ; and added — " It
would be a great disgust to me not to give you the
occasion of making the acquaintance of my dear
friend, Dr. Twesten, a true theologian non glorice
sed crucis" At three o'clock, the hour appointed,
I went to his house, and was shown into his study,
where I found him sitting alone ; but Dr. Twesten,
the Professor of Dogmatic Theology, very soon came
in, and made himself as agreeable as he could, with-
out knowing enough of English to form a sentence.
In due time the servant announced that dinner was
ready ; and what was my astonishment, as I entered
the dining-room, to find as many guests there as
the room could possibly accommodate. When we
sat down to the table there was no blessing audibly
asked ; but there was a pause, that each one might
ask a blessing for himself. The manner in which
the afternoon was passed was quite in accordance
with the German doctrine in respect to the Sab-
bath ; and, as the good-humoured, not to say bois-
terous demonstrations, were all in G-erman, I must
confess that I was for once more than reconciled to
136 HENGSTENBEBG.
my ignorance of the language. What aggravated
the case to me was, that I had no reason to doubt
that the dinner party had been made on my account,
though I had understood Neander to say that I
should meet nobody at dinner but his sister and Dr.
Twesten. I am sure he did not intend to do vio-
lence to my feelings ; and I am equally sure that,
if he had had any adequate appreciation of the
manner in which we regard the Sabbath, I should
not have been placed in a situation so painful to
me.
I had intended to say something of HENGSTEN-
BERG, having placed his name at the head of this
article ; but I find that neither my recollections of
him, nor my notes concerning him, supply material
for any other than the most general remarks. I
walked a long distance outside the gates of the city
to find him, and, as he spoke no English, my in-
terview with him turned to no great account. For
some time he kept talking German to mer despite
of my assurances that I did not understand a word
of it ; and when he exchanged German for French,
he scarcely did it with a good grace. I found him
a much younger person than I had expected ; but,
though he had lived only thirty-three years, he had
been a professor during thirteen of them. He waj
a small, bright looking man, and evinced good man-
ners in everything, except that he smoked inces-
santly while I was with him, and occasionally let
HENGSTENBEBG. 137
forth a puff almost directly in my face. No other
apology, however, was needed for it than the fact
that he was a German. I was shut up in the dili-
gence at one time for thirty-six hours with five
smokers, who were deaf to all my entreaties to
them to desist, because I could not speak German,
and they professed to be able to understand no-
thing else !
XX.
//
the time that I determined to visit Ber-
lin, it was one important object with me to see
ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT ; and as I knew that
he passed a good deal of his time abroad — at Paris
and elsewhere, I was glad to find, on my arrival a
ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 139
Berlin, that he was at home, and in his usual
health. Several of his personal friends were ready
to give me an introduction to him, but my experi-
ence had already taught me that General Jackson's
letter was not only worth more than any French
or German letters I could obtain, however good, but
that it actually superseded the necessity of any
others ; and I preferred to use it as an introduc-
tion to Humboldt, rather even than to take a note
from our own accomplished and respectable ambas-
sador, Mr. Wheaton. I accordingly enclosed to the
Baron my card and the General's letter, signifying,
at the same time, by a note, that I should feel hon-
oured by the opportunity of paying my respects to
him ; and begging that, in case he should consent
to my proposal, he would let me know at what
time it would be convenient for him to receive
me. He immediately called at my hotel, and as I
was out, he left his card. I then returned his call,
but, unfortunately, he was not at home. On his
return, he addressed a note to me, requesting that
I would call without delay and see him ; and he
added — "Any American, especially any one belong-
ing to the State of New York, which has abolished
slavery, will always be welcome to the study of Alex-
ander Von Humboldt."
I called at his lodgings some time in the fore-
noon, and found him at home, disengaged, and
ready to receive me. He approached me with great
simplicity and apparent cordiality, and had nothing
I
140 ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT.
of the air even of a stranger. He had the appear-
ance of a man of sixty-five ; and if I mistake not,
this was actually about his age ; but he was rapid
in his movements, and seemed scarcely to have lost
the vigour and elasticity of youth. He had a be-
nignant, genial sort of look, and a winning and
courteous manner, which would have made you wish
to know more of him, if you had met him as a
stranger in a stage-coach. He was one of the most
rapid and earnest talkers I ever heard. It was
wonderful the rapidity with which he passed from
one subject to another. There were various mat-
ters concerning which he wished to inquire ; but
he manifested a degree of familiarity with every-
thing American, that would have led me to sup-
pose that he had spent no small part of his life
in this country. He talked about slavery, in com-
mon with everybody else whom I saw, but he seemed
to take a calm and reasonable view of the subject ;
and, contrary to my expectations, after the hint
contained in his note to me, reprobated the violent
denunciations in which many were prone to indulge.
He seemed to be aware of our national infirmities,
while yet he was not at all disposed to magnify
them ; and he did not hesitate to say that there
was very much in our form of government that he
admired, and that he could not doubt that Provi-
dence had designed that we should work out for
ourselves a glorious destiny. He remarked that he
had had a pleasant acquaintance with several of
ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 141
my distinguished countrymen, and especially with
Mr. Everett, of whose talents and attainments he
spoke in no measured terms of praise. The time
that I was with him passed so pleasantly that I
made a longer call than I was aware of; and the
servant at length came and notified him that the
hour had arrived when he had another engagement.
He told me that he was engaged to dine that day
with the King, and, as the King's dinner-hour was
early, he was under the necessity of excusing him-
self. He took leave of me with many expressions
of good will, and assured me that he should be
glad to do anything in his power, during my stay
in Berlin, that would contribute to my gratification.
I learned, from the best authority, that Hum-
boldt was on the most intimate terms with the
King ; that he was accustomed to dine with him
as often as once or twice a week ; and that he
was, probably more than any other person, his coun-
sellor and confidant. I was assured, moreover, that
his habits were at once most studious and most
active ; and that most of his time was spent in his
study, and very few hours out of the twenty-four
were spent in sleep. His brother William, who had
died a short time before, was commonly regarded,
at Berlin, as the greater man of the two. I heard
it said that the King placed such unlimited confi-
dence in his judgment, that he scarcely ever thought
of appealing from it.
142 R I T T E R .
Next to Neander, the Professor at Berlin, of whom
I saw most, was KITTER, the celebrated Geographer —
supposed, as I was informed, to be the greatest man
in his way then upon the stage. I had a letter of
introduction to him, which I found he was every
way disposed to honour ; and, during the whole time
that I was in Berlin, scarcely a day passed that did
not bring to me some fresh testimony of his good
will. When I first called upon him, I found him
in his study, with several large and beautiful maps
lying open on the table before him, which, I believe,
had been made by his own hand ; and he remarked
pleasantly in reference to it, that I had found him
riding his hobby. He was a man of a large frame,
quite thickly set, with a correspondingly large face,
and a fine, open, honest expression. As he spoke
English readily, I conversed with him on various sub-
jects of interest, and found him equally intelligent
and communicative. I was gratified particularly to
find that he seemed to be an earnest and devout
Christian. He expressed to me the greatest admira-
tion of Humboldt's character, and considered hi
a model for all who would attain the highest degre
of intellectual culture. I had the pleasure of at-
tending one of his lectures on Comparative Geog-
raphy. When I first entered the room, there we
scarcely more than half a dozen students ; but th
number gradually increased, until it rose to near!
an hundred. I observed that whenever a student
came in after the lecture had commenced, he had
HENRY . — R A U M E U R . 143
to pay a penalty for it, by being "scraped'' by the
rest of the class. Professor Bitter, though not par-
ticularly graceful as a lecturer, was yet- entirely at
home, and he often illustrated what he was saying
by turning round and making an outline on the
black-board. Though so many years have passed
since I saw him, there are few European faces that
are more familiar to me, and few among all the ac-
quaintances that I made, whom I remember with a
feeling of deeper gratitude.
I carried a letter from Professor Gaussen, of
Geneva, to the Pastor HENRY, one of the most dis-
tinguished clergymen in Berlin, and a man of great
general influence in both the Church and civil so-
ciety. He had married the daughter of a very
celebrated statesman, and partly by this means, but
chiefly by his great talents and eminent virtues, had
acquired an influence which, it was said, reached even
to the throne. He was rather a large man, of great
personal dignity, and if I could judge from what I
saw of him, unusually grave in his conversation. He
was then busy with his great work on Calvin, which
seemed chiefly to occupy his time and engross his
thoughts. He had made a visit to Geneva not long
before, in order thoroughly to explore every source
of authentic information in respect to the great
Beformer.
I made the acquaintance of Professor BAUMEUR,
the celebrated historian, who has since visited me in
144 STEPHENS . — H I T Z I G .
this country. He had then just published a Book
of Travels in England, which formed a frequent
topic of conversation, and which, in all the circles
into which I was thrown, seemed to be highly
approved. I attended one of his lectures on His-
tory. His class was small ; I think, not exceeding
twenty-four. His lecture seemed to be extempor-
aneous, and his manner was as free and easy as it
was in common conversation.
I was introduced to STEPHENS, the Professor of
Philosophy ; but as he could not speak English,
and professed to be unable to speak French, I
got not a word out of him that I could understand.
His manners were very agreeable, and he had a
good-natured, speaking countenance, so that I did
not feel, after all, as if he was quite dumb. There
was something truly venerable in his appearance,
that reminded me somewhat of President Nott, of
Union College.
I saw two or three very eminent Professors o:
Law. One of them was HITZIG, the great criminal-
ist, to whom I had a letter from his particular friend,
Baron Fouquet. He received me civilly enough ;
but I thought I discovered pretty soon that he h
something more important on hand than to strain
noddle to talk English to an American clergyman
and, accordingly, he volunteered to give me a note
somebody else, who, he thought, could be of gre
,
SAVIGNY. — GANS.--ENCKE. 145
service to me. I took the note, understanding well
the reason why it was given to me ; but I think I
turned it to no account. Mr. Wheaton introduced
me, also, to two other of the most distinguished pro-
fessors of Law — namely, SAVIGNY and G-ANS. The
former was, in his person and countenance, a truly
noble specimen of a man. The latter was a strongly
marked Jew ; but was very lively and agreeable in
conversation. I understood, however, that they had
no sympathy with each other, and were heads of
opposite parties. I believe Savigny was considered
as having no superior in his department in Ger-
many.
I must not omit to say, that I made the acquaint-
ance of ENCKE, the great astronomer. He had been
called to Berlin, from the University of Gotha, not
long before, and had acquired a celebrity perhaps
equal to that of any astronomer on the Continent.
The newly-discovered planet had then recently been
named for him. His personal appearance was far
from being attractive — he was a short, clumsy looking
man, with anything else, as it seemed to me, than
an intellectual face ; but it was only necessary to
converse with him a few minutes, to find out that
he was a highly intellectual, as well as agreeable, per-
son. There was another great European astronomer
then liyiijg, whom he was desirous that I should see ;
and it turned out that I had a letter to his grand-
f by means of which I easily obtained an intro-
7
146
OLBERS.
duction to him. It was Dr. OLBERS, of Bremen,
He was a most venerable man in his appearance,
about eighty years of age, and had held the high-
est rank among astronomers for nearly half a cen-
tury. Though he was almost sinking under the
burden of years, and actually died soon after, he
was as enthusiastically devoted to his favourite
science as ever. He was a perfect gentleman of
the old school, and had the most bland and engag-
ing manners. I was sorry to hear it said, that he
had probably never learned to " look through nature
up to nature's God."
XXI
AND
THESE two stars in the firmament of poetry were
shining, at the time of my visit in England, not
indeed in their full strength, but with a degree of
lustre that made them objects of general attraction.
I spent about the same time with each of them, and
my recollections of the two are about equally dis-
tinct.
I called at ROGERS' house, and, as he was not at
home, left my letter of introduction, which was al-
most immediately answered by a note, inviting me
to breakfast with him. I went at the specified time,
and was received with equal dignity and hospitality.
He had the appearance of a man of seventy ; he
was of about the middle height, stood perfectly erect,
and had a face beaming with intelligence and good
nature. His manners were at once dignified and
graceful, and seemed to indicate both a gentle
148 ROGERS.
and thoughtful spirit. I found him living in splen-
did style, but quite alone, his servant being the
only person besides himself whom I saw ; and my
impression was and is, that he was a bachelor,
though of this I cannot be quite certain. His
health was, at that time, perfectly good ; though he
told me that he never knew what health was till
after he had passed fifty.
His parents were dissenters from the Established
Church, and I suppose Unitarians ; for he told me
that he was baptized by Dr. Price, and seemed to
have great veneration for his character. He did not
say directly that he was an Unitarian himself ; but,
from some remarks that he made, I inferred that
he was. In connexion with what he said about
Dr. Price, he remarked that he had never known a
great man who was not both simple and clear ; that
some .person had told him that Dr. Franklin, so far
at least as simplicity was concerned, was an excep-
tion to this general rule ; but, that he had since
been assured, by a lady who knew Dr. Franklin in-
timately, that simplicity was one of his most prom-
inent characteristics. He talked a good deal oi
Washington Irving and Cooper, both of whom h(
knew well, and regarded as among the stars of 01
common English literature. His admiration foi
Kobert Hall's genius was unbounded, though
said it had so happened that he had never hean
him preach but once. He observed, apparently wit]
a good deal of satisfaction, that in the room ii
ROGERS. 149
•
which I was sitting, he had had the honour to re-
ceive three who had been presidents of the United
States, besides Mr. Van Buren, who, he supposed,
was destined to add one to the number. After
breakfast, he asked me to go up stairs with him,
that he might show me some of his literary curiosi-
ties ; but then he said he must first feed his birds ;
and immediately, on throwing down some small bits
of bread, some twenty birds or more, that were do-
mesticated on his premises, came flying down and
picked them up. He made some beautiful remarks
upon their being so affectionate and loving towards
him, and showed that he had himself strong domes-
tic affections, though I saw nothing to indicate that
he had any objects more considerable, or more know-
ing, than birds to fasten them upon.
On going up stairs, he brought out various literary
relics of by-gone days, all of which were of great in-
terest, and for some of which he had paid a very large
price. His greatest treasure of this kind, however,
was a document, which was framed, and hung up
in his hall. It was nothing less than the written
engagement between Milton and his publisher, which
secured to the latter the right to print the Paradise
Lost, on condition of his paying six pounds for each
edition. For this document he told me he gave
sixty pounds. It was written in a fair, beautiful
hand, and I did not notice any dissimilarity between
the body of the document and the signature. When
I WRR mentioning the circumstance to a friend, after
150 CAMPBELL.
my return, he immediately suggested the difficulty,
which, strange to say, had not previously occurred
to myself, of supposing this to be a genuine auto-
graph of Milton, inasmuch as he was, at the time,
stone blind. I wrote at once to Kogers, asking him
to explain. In due time I received an answer from
him, of great interest, showing, from the history of
the document that it must be authentic, and then
stating that it was only the signature that was writ-
ten by him ; and that a man becomes so familiar
with the writing of his own name, that if he has
been accustomed to write it in a graceful hand, even
blindness will not prevent his still doing so. The
venerable poet still lives, and I think he must now
have approached very near to ninety. An English
friend of mine lately informed me that he retains
much of his elasticity of mind, that he sometimes
goes out to pass an evening with a friend, and is
not much disposed to see signs of the blossoming of
the almond tree.
I found CAMPBELL in very different circumstances,
tftid evidently a very different man. He met m(
with great kindness, and very courteously said, twc
or three times over, that he felt flattered by my
visit ; and really I thought he had good reason t(
construe it into an expression of respect ; for, ii
order to get to his apartments, I had to travel uj
four long flights of stairs, and then truvrl down om
in anotlior direction, whir-h altogether made goiuethinj
CAMPBELL. 151
of a journey. However, I quite forgot the pains which
my visit had cost me, in the abundant pleasure which
it yielded. I found him rather under the mid-
dle size, easy and quick in his movements, and very
much like his picture, except, as he himself said, his
picture had somewhat flattered him. His dress was
so plain, I may say slovenly, that, on first meet-
ing him, I was embarrassed in the same way that
I was the first time I met John Quincy Adams —
I was in doubt whether it was he or his servant.
His room, too, though lined with books, had not,
like the apartments of Eogers, the appearance of
opulence. Indeed, I believe he was, at that time,
literally poor ; and he told me that he was obliged
to get his living by writing, particularly by con-
ducting the New Monthly Keview. He stated that
he had enlisted very zealously in behalf of the ex-
iled Poles ; that he had not only begged money
for them out-and-out, but had sold for their benefit
to certain ladies, several notes addressed to himself
by Sir Walter Scott and Lord Byron, at the enor-
mous rate of from ten to twenty pounds each ; but
he seemed to me to have grown rather sick of the
enterprize. The great fire in New York had occurred
just before, and some effort had been made in Lon-
don for the relief of the sufferers ; but he said that
he thought it not at all in good taste, and it
a mounted to so very little, that it was really not
ii)ii''h better than an insult. He had great quan-
tities of manuscript lyin^ around him, and he re-
152
CAMPBELL.
marked that it accumulated so rapidly that he was
obliged every few days to have a regular auto da fe.
He told me that he expected to be in Scotland at
the time I had arranged to be there myself, and
gave me his address in Glasgow, requesting me to
call upon him. He seemed to be between fifty
and sixty years old, but did not, I believe, enjoy
very vigorous health. He retained somewhat of the
Scotch accent, though it could not be expected that
it should be very marked, as he had been away from
Scotland some thirty years. He had more vivacity
than Kogers, but was, perhaps, less bland and dig-
nified.
XXII.
T HAD had some acquaintance with Dr. GKEGORY,
by correspondence, before I saw him, and, there-
fore, did not anticipate meeting him as a stranger.
I rode out one morning from London, seven miles,
to Woolwich, Dr. Gregory's residence, on purpose to
spend the day with him. He had been apprized
of my intention to come at that time, and he re-
ceived me with all the familiarity of an old friend.
I had been accustomed to contemplate his face in
his portrait, which he had previously sent me, and
it was so exact a likeness that, when I saw the
original, I could scarcely persuade myself that so
perfect an idea as I had could have been gathered
from a picture. He was not much above the me-
dium height, but was rather inclined to be stout,
and gave you the idea of a more than common de-
gree of physical strength. If I had described frim
after I had been with him five minutes, I should
154 OLINTHUS GBEGORY.
have said that he was characterized by great sim-
plicity of manner, entire freedom in conversation,
excellent common sense, and a heart overflowing
with kindness ; and I should have given the same
account of him when I left him, with this important
addition — that his knowledge was vast and varied,
and that he was a truly evangelical, devout, and
earnest Christian.
As I was aware of his great intimacy with Kobert
Hall, I was particularly desirous to hear what he
would say concerning him, though I already knew
what he had written. He could hardly find language
to convey any adequate idea of the estimate in which
he held him as a man of intellect ; and he evi-
dently thought that he had not left upon earth so
great and finished a mind as his own. He men-
tioned one singular characteristic of Hall's mem-
ory— that it was so exact for words that he could
remember every word of a sermon just as he had
preached it, though a long time might intervene
He said that, in conversation, Hall was remarkable
for letting other people take the lead, and then
no matter what the subject might be — he would
fall in, and gradually become very eloquent and
powerful, sometimes perfectly overwhelming. He
showed me the original manuscript of Hall's famous
sermon on infidelity, for which he said he had been
offered twenty pounds ; and I noticed the substitu-
tion in pencil of the word pierce for penetrate — a
well-known incident, I might almost say, in the
OLINTHUS GEEGOKY. 155
history of English literature. He had a few of
Hall's manuscript sermons, or rather outlines of ser-
mons, one of which he gave me as a keepsake, and
which I, of course, preserve as a great treasure. I
am not aware that there is another on this side
the Atlantic. He showed me, also, as a great curi-
osity, a book which contained many notes in the
handwriting of John Bunyan, and which he had
with him while he was writing his Pilgrim's Prog-
ress in Bedford Jail.
I incidentally mentioned to Dr. Gregory, that
Kobert Hall had professed to me a degree of faith
in ghosts and other supernatural demonstrations,
that rather surprised me. The Doctor, without say-
ing directly that he was a convert to the same doc-
trine, immediately stated several facts, which he
said had come within his knowledge, that gave me
reason to infer it ; one or two of which were so re-
markable, that I will venture to relate them upon
his authority. He said there was a little girl living
in his neighbourhood, who was, at a certain time,
greatly distressed by an impression that her brother
had died in India. They tried to laugh her out of
it ; but she kept on weeping from day to day. At
length, to the great surprise of the family, the in-
telligence came that he was dead ; and while all the
rest were overwhelmed with the tidings, the little
girl seemed quite indifferent. When she was re-
proached by her mother for her apparent insensi-
bility, she replied that she knew of his death at the
156 OLINTHUS GREGORY.
time it occurred, and that she had had time to re-
cover from the effect of it ; and they found, upon
recollection, that the time which she had mentioned
was the very time of his death. A similar case oc-
curred, at a later period, in respect to her father,
who professed to be incredulous concerning her im-
pressions. When he was going away to join the
army, he charged her not to communicate to her
mother any impression she might have in respect
to him. Shortly after the battle of Waterloo, she
suddenly burst into tears, and appeared quite in-
consolable. The family inquired the cause, but she
evaded. The next morning, as she saw an officer
coming with letters, she uttered a shriek. He, how-
ever, passed the gate ; and, as he passed, she was
heard to say — " Thank God — is it possible !" But
immediately another officer came, bringing the tid-
ings of her father's death.
Dr. Gregory told me that the great mathematician,
Bonycastle, had formerly occupied the house in which
he himself then lived ; and, on a certain occasioi
Mrs. Bonycastle and her daughter both saw Mrs. B.;
w
brother, who was known to be at a distance, going
down stairs — the stairs to which Dr. Gregory then
pointed me. Bonycastle laughed at them, but stil
noted the time, to see if anything disastrous oc
cured ; in due time the intelligence came, that thi
moment, so far as could be ascertained, was the me
ment of the brother's death. Bonycastle and
wife, Dr. Gregory said, were both infidels ; thou^
OLINTHUS GREGORY. 157
he was not without severe compunction. The Doc-
tor once saw him when he was very ill ; and his wife
rebuked him for complaining, and bid him look to
his philosophical principles for support. He replied,
" Philosophy is good for nothing now, my dear ;
Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me." She accounted
for the remark, by saying that his mind was evi-
dently wandering. He had once been a member of
an evangelical church, but had become an apostate.
Dr. Gregory did his utmost to reclaim him, but he
found that his influence was entirely neutralized by
a club of infidels in London, with whom Bonycastle
had unfortunately become associated.
I had supposed, before my personal acquaintance
with Dr. Gregory, that he was a low-church Epis-
copalian ; but, instead of that, I found that he was
an open-communion Baptist. He was, however, a
truly liberal Christian, and evinced a cordial sym-
pathy with all who were striving for the common
cause of truth and righteousness. He said he felt
quite at home in any denomination that recognized
what he considered the leading truths of the Gospel ;
though, as a matter of convenience, he and his
family attended the Episcopal Church. Bishop Mcll-
vaine had visited him, while he was in England,
and he had formed a strong attachment to him, and
thought him an admirable model of a Bishop. He
had been greatly afflicted, not long before, by the
sudden death of a son, I think, by drowning ; and
he adverted to the event with great solemnity, and
158 OLINTHUS GREGORY.
yet with much apparent submission. He said he
had spent months in inquiring wherefore the Lord
had thus afflicted him. The only members of his
family whom I saw, were his wife and one daughter ;
both of whom were ladies of fine intellect, engaging
manners, and apparently of ardent piety.
XXIII.
residence of Miss LUCY AIKEN was at Hamp-
stead, some four or five miles from the heart of
London. One of her intimate friends, Mr. K., from
whom also I received great kindness, offered me an
introduction to her ; and, as she was one of the lion-
esses of the day, I gladly availed myself of it. I
found her dwelling, after a little more than half an
hour's ride, and, on sending in my letter, was im-
mediately invited into the parlour, where she was
sitting with an elderly gentleman, to whom I was
not introduced. As there was no excess -of cordiality
in her manner of receiving me, I could not but sus-
pect that she would have been easily reconciled to any
providence that had kept me away ; however, as I
was actually there, I thought the best thing I could
do, both for her and myself, was to make my call as
brief as would consist with decency.
160 MISS LUCY A I KEN.
r
She was rather short and stout in her person,
seemed to be about fifty years old, and had a coun-
tenance more bright and intelligent than gentle and
lovely. Her manners were characterized by great
directness, and there was a straightforward, business-
like air about her, amounting sometimes even to ab-
ruptness, which was fitted to make one almost regret
that she belonged to the gentler sex. She began al-
most immediately to talk about Dr. Channing, and her
admiration of his writings and reverence for his char-
acter seemed to know no bounds. I found that she
was in habits of correspondence with him, and
seemed annoyed that it had been a long time since
he had written to her. She spoke of several Ameri-
cans with respect ; but Dr. Channing was the only
one, so far as I could judge, who had made much
impression upon her. She talked a good deal about
a controversy which was then going forward in Lon-
don, between the Unitarians and the Orthodox — I
think on the subject of Lady Hewley's charities ; and,
though she did not express a very decisive opinion in
respect to it, I could see clearly that she leaned to
the side of the Unitarians ; which, certainly, was not
strange, as she was understood to be strongly at-
tached to that denomination. She spoke incident-
ally of her near relative, Mrs. Barbauld, but said
nothing that gave me any new ideas of her char-
acter. She rendered a very strong testimony also
in favour of her neighbour, Miss Joanna Baillie, and
seemed to speak as if she was quite her beau ideal
MISS JOANNA BAILLIE. 161
of a woman. I left her, not at all wondering that
she should have written the Memoirs of the Court of
Queen Elizabeth, but feeling that her character would
not have suffered by a more liberal infusion of fem-
inine grace and gentleness.
Miss BAILLIE lived within perhaps a hundred rods
of Miss Aiken, and it was at her house that I made
my next call. She was then seventy-two years of
age ; and her sister, who was living with her, could
not have been much younger. In everything, ex-
cept vigour of mind and intelligence, she was quite
the opposite of Miss Aiken. She was rather tall
and slender in her person, and there was more of
benignity than of high intellect expressed in her
countenance. She had a quiet, gentle, and yet ex-
ceedingly lady-like manner, and the spirit of benevo-
lence seemed to come out in everything that she
said and did. One of her friends in London had
written her of my intended visit, and she said that
they had expected me for a day or two, and had
been staying at home that they might not miss me —
which I very well understood to mean, that I might
not miss them. She told me that she had lived in
London and its neighbourhood for about half a cen-
tury ; and when I remarked to her that she had not
lived there long enough to lose entirely her Scottish
accent, she said " No ;" she believed that that never
happened after a person was twenty years old. She
told me that her father was Professor of Theology
162 MISS JOANNA BAILLIE.
in the University of Glasgow, and with great rev-
erence pointed me to his portrait, which hung in
another room. She expressed her regret that she
had never seen Hannah More, though she con-
sidered her as one of the brightest lights of her
generation, or of any other. She talked with great
enthusiasm, also, concerning Dr. Chalmers ; but she
was evidently far from subscribing to some of his
opinions. She spoke of the Scottish Church with
great reverence, and greatly preferred it to the Eng-
lish. , I could see that she had some partiality for
the system of patronage, and she expressed her ap-
prehension that the reform might be carried to an*
injurious extreme. She had, a short time before,
published two plays, which were just then being
acted at the different theatres. She had intended
that they should be posthumous, and be edited by
her nephew ; but, as he was threatened seriously with
a decline, and it had become very doubtful whether
he would survive her, she determined to send them
forth during her lifetime. She said nothing in my
hearing from which I could infer what were her re-
ligious opinions ; but it was well understood that
she was an Arian. She professed to have examined
the Scriptures with great care, and, as the result,
to have given up her faith in the proper divinity of
the Saviour. Her character seemed to be a beauti-
ful compound of intelligence, loveliness, and vener-
able simplicity.
MBS. ELIZABETH FRY. 163
At the time of my visit in England, there were
few persons, male or female, who were in greater re-
pute, especially in the walks of philanthropy, than
Mrs. FEY. It was quite an object with me to ob-
tain an introduction to her, and I succeeded in
accomplishing it with great ease. She was a noble —
I should say, a splendid looking woman ; consider-
ably above the ordinary height, and of a remarkably
symmetrical form ; with a countenance indicative of
great vigour of mind, and strength of purpose, and
with a general air and bearing more dignified and
impressive than I have often met with in a lady.
Withal, her face expressed great benevolence ; and,
when I knew that it was Mrs. Fry with whom I was
conversing, it seemed to me that she looked ex-
actly as a person of her character might be ex-
pected to look. Her great mission, at that time,
was reading the Scriptures once or twice a week to
the wretched inmates of Newgate. I was very de-
sirous of being present at one of those readings ;
and, as soon as she knew my wish, she assured me
that it should be gratified. Accordingly, by previous
appointment, I met her at the prison, and witnessed
one of the most interesting and impressive services
at which I have ever been present. I entered
the prison just as the female prisoners were going
up into the room where Mrs. Fry was to meet
them. There were about forty, all decently and
uniformly dressed, and nearly every one having in
her hand a Bible. Thev had all been tried and sen-
164 MKS. ELIZABETH FRY.
tencecl for some crime or other, and most of them
had been taken from the streets — the very refuse of
society. Several of them had babies in their arms,
that were playful and smiling in their unconscious
degradation. Mrs. Fry read the twelfth chapter of
the Epistle to the Kornans, and the thirteenth Psalm ;
commenting a little upon each with great propriety
and feeling. Nothing could have been more appro-
priate and beautiful than her manner of reading. I
could not imagine that Dr. Mason himself — perhaps
the finest model of a reader which the American
pulpit has furnished — ever read the twelfth chapter
of Eomans more impressively than Mrs. Fry did on
that occasion. And it had its effect upon other
minds than mine ; for I saw some, who looked like
veterans in crime, burying their faces in their hands,
as if overwhelmed with compunction at least, if not
with penitence. At the close of the reading, which,
in connexion with the comments that accompanied,
and a brief exhortation that followed it, lasted, per-
haps, three-quarters of an hour, the different moni-
tors (one from each ward) came up successively and
rendered in their account ; and all the reports, with
one or two exceptions, were very good. There
was a young gentleman who came in to see Mrs.
Fry, just after the exercise had closed, who looked
very modest and retiring ; but I was surprised to
find that it was a noble lord, who took the deepest
interest in her philanthropic enterprise. She gave
me a most interesting account of her labours, am
MBS. ELIZABETH FBY. 165
assured me that she had good reason to believe that
the Word of God, as read by her, had been the
power of God to the salvation of a goodly number
of those wretched beings. I perceived that all her
movements towards them were kind and winning,
and their treatment of her seemed most deferential
and grateful. I did not think it strange that the
Emperor Alexander should have pronounced her one
of the wonders of the age. Though she talked with
the Quaker precision, the style of her conversation
was worthy of the court. She wished me to visit
her at her house, but I could not. She, however,
sent me a little book, containing an account of her
self-denying labours, and gave me also a letter of
introduction to her brother, Joseph John Gurney,
whom she wished me to visit at Norwich. It is
several years since she has passed away ; but the
record of her good deeds will pass away — never.
XXIV.
e&ba&
AN my first visit to England, I had the pleasure
of making the acquaintance of Dr. SMITH, though
it was but once or twice that I met him, and my
intercourse with him was only sufficient to make me
deeply regret that it could not be more extended.
On my return to London, after a number of years, I
was glad of an opportunity to renew my acquaintance
with him, and the more so, as he had been steadily
advancing in influence and reputation ; and his
name, by that time, was scarcely less honoured in
our country than in his own. I availed myself of
an early opportunity to call upon him, and he very
pleasantly recognized our former acquaintance, and
expressed a wish that I would give him as much of
DR. JOHN PYE SMITH. 167
my time during my stay in the neighbourhood as
should suit my convenience.
Dr. Smith was rather slender in person, and yet
exceedingly well formed, with a face remarkable for
the harmonious blending of different qualities, and
especially for delicacy of expression. Had I only
seen him without knowing who he was, I think I
should have been more impressed with the moral
than the intellectual, and should have imagined
that he had rather a beautiful mind than a power-
ful one ; that he was rather a student than a genius ;
but every one knows, that he was not only a great
scholar, but an earnest and vigorous thinker. In ap-
proaching you at first, there was a sort of modest
reserve, which, however, soon wore off, and revealed
to you a truly benignant spirit, high intellectual
endowments, and a thoroughly accomplished gentle-
man. There was something in his personal appear-
ance that did not leave it to your choice whether to
respect and honour him or not — the impression that
he was a man of distinguished worth was, from the
beginning, irresistible ; and it must have been no
ordinarily debased type of humanity that could have
even meditated a wound upon his refined and gen-
erous sensibilities. Dr. Smith, at the time to which
I now refer, had become exceedingly deaf, so that
it was not without some difficulty that he could bear
his part in ordinary conversation. He had been,
for a year or two, labouring under some serious
malady, which, it was supposed, for some time, would
168 DR. JOHN PYE SMITH.
prove fatal ; but it had finally yielded, in a meas-
ure, to the use of stimulants, to which, however, he
had consented only as a last resort, and with the
greatest reluctance.
The subject which, more than any other, occupied
Dr. Smith at that time, was the great question
of the union of Church and State ; which was
felt then, as it is now, in deep and ominous vibra-
tions to the very heart of the nation. Perhaps no
voice among the Dissenters was lifted up with more
power or more effect, on this exciting subject, than
his ; but, while he was bold and earnest, he never
lost his dignity or self-command ; and the most zeal-
ous churchman could not but do homage to his can-
dour £nd ability. He seemed to think that we in
this country had but a very inadequate sense of
the value of our religious liberty ; and that, if we
could bear, for a single year, the burden which the
English Dissenters had to bear all the time, we
should prize our own privileges more, and feel a
deeper sympathy for them. Dr. Smith expressed
the kindest feelings towards our country, and great
respect for some of our distinguished scholars and
professors. He was in the habit of reading the
Theological Beview, then edited by the Kev. Leon-
ard Woods, Jr., and, though he was generally
greatly pleased with the articles, he expressed de-
cided dissatisfaction with one, on Christian Union,
written by Bishop S , which he thought in-
dicated a wish to get rid of all sectarian differences,
ROBERT ASPLAND. 169
by merging all the different denominations in the
Episcopal Church.
Dr. Smith gave me an interesting account of the
service to which his chapel (the gravel-pit meeting)
had been put, in the different periods of its history.
It had been occupied by Dr. Price, whose minis-
trations were Arian ; then by Dr. Priestley, pre-
vious to his coming to America ; then by Belsham,
then by Aspland, who was, at that time, one of the
most popular Unitarian preachers in London ; and
finally by himself. It was somewhat remarkable
that each of these distinguished Unitarians (unless
Belsham was an exception, and I think he was not)
was originally orthodox, and had preached the ortho-
dox faith. ASPLAND started as a Baptist, and was
an intimate friend, I believe a fellow student, of
Dr. Cox, of Hackney. I saw Aspland, and found
him altogether courteous and obliging, and evi-
dently a man of commanding intellect. Of Dr. Cox
and Dr. Smith he spoke in terms of great respect,
and that, notwithstanding he regarded Dr. Smith as
the great champion on the orthodox side of the
Unitarian controversy. I understood that he had
stated, that his first departure from orthodoxy origin-
ated in his being suspected by a Church clergyman
of being an Arian ; and that the same clergyman
had cautioned him against Arianism, as being very
unfavourable to pulpit eloquence J
Having alluded to Aspland, I cannot forbear to
8
170 JOHN TOWEL I, R U T T .
say a word about two other distinguished Unitarians,
into whose company I was thrown. One of them
was JOHN TOWELL KUTT, a man then venrino;
' O O
towards four-score, the father-in-law of the cele-
brated Talfourd. One of my friends, who knew him
intimately, assured me that he was a very remark-
able man, and proposed to invite him to meet me
at breakfast. He was uncommonly vigorous for his
years, and seemed to know everybody that had lived,
and everything that had happened, while he had
been upon the stage. His face, though furrowed
with years, was constantly lighted up with anima-
tion and benevolence. He had known Dr. Priestley
most intimately, and was the author of his life, in
three octavo volumes, of which he gave me a copy.
He was, also, a warm friend and great admirer of
Gilbert Wakefield ; and when, as he spoke of him,
I understood him to say, the Duke of Bedford, he
replied, " You must allow me to say, Sir, that I
think that a very great instance of the bathos."
He told me that as I had fallen in with one Uni-
tarian in himself, he was very desirous of introduc-
ing me to another — the celebrated GEORGE DYER,
author of the Life of Robert Kobinson, and several
other works — who, he said, was decidedly a char-
acter. I readily consented to accompany him,
though I had no idea what sort of a person I was
to see, or what constituted the attraction. We
were accompanied by Mr. B., the friend who had
invited us to breakfast, and who also knew George
GEORGE DYER. 171
»
Dyer well ; and, on our way to his lodgings, I learned
that he was distinguished as a highly gifted man
and an author, but still more for his eccentricity.
Mr. B. mentioned that he once met him in such a
fit of absence that when he approached him, Dyer
thought him a pickpocket, and began to make a
vigorous defence of himself with his cane. He was
an old man, not much short of eighty, had a re-
markably benevolent face, and was stone blind. We
kept him talking about old times and old things,
and his connexion with the distinguished men of
the preceding generation ; and on every topic that
was introduced he showed himself quite at home.
He had been married in his old age to his laun-
dress ; and he incidentally paid her the compliment
to say, that "she made him an excellent wife, but
that, unfortunately, she could render him no assist-
ance by reading or writing, as her education was
very defective." When he spoke of something that
he had intended to do before he was laid upon the
shelf, Mr. Kutt said, referring to his publications,
" But you did not go upon the shelf yourself till
you had put some very valuable things there" — a
compliment which the old gentleman evidently did
not disrelish. He was remarkably affectionate in
his manner, and seemed unwilling to let go of my
hand ; and finally he said, much to my surprise,
" You are a Unitarian minister, are you not ?" As
I answered in the negative, Mr. Kutt added fa-
cetiously— " Though he is not a Unitarian, his
172
GEORGE DYER.
orthodoxy does not prevent his walking the streets
with us." Neither Dyer nor Kutt survived many
years after I saw them. Aspland, too, is no longer
among the living. Indeed, a large part of those
whose acquaintance I made less than twenty years
ago, have passed the dark boundary.
XXV.
AND
T HAD become interested in the character of Mr.
PRATT, chiefly as the biographer of Cecil ; but
had heard of him through other channels as one of
the most respectable and excellent ministers of the
Church of England. I had no difficulty in getting
an introduction to him, and I gladly accepted an
invitation from him to breakfast. He was rather a
thick, portly man, and his countenance and manner
evinced great sincerity and benevolence. Nothing
about him, however, was more remarkable than his
piety. He was social and cheerful, and did not
scruple a pleasant anecdote ; but nobody, who no-
ticed the tenor of his conversation, could doubt
that his affections were strongly fixed upon Heaven.
He was at that time sixty-eight years old, seemed
to be in his full vigour, and preached at least once
every Sabbath. His general appearance and man-
174 JOSIAH PRATT.
ner reminded me forcibly of the excellent Dr. Mil-
nor ; and, unless I greatly mistake, there was a cor-
responding resemblance in their characters.
I was desirous of learning from him as much as
I could concerning Cecil ; but, though he expressed
the utmost admiration of his character, I do not
remember that he said anything that threw new light
upon it. He talked more, I think, of the Yenns
than he did of Cecil. He told me that the elder
Venn (Henry) was a man of great exuberance of
feeling, and was working a reformation in the Es-
tablished Church, while Whitefield and Wesley were
doing the same thing out of it ; that the second
Venn, (of Clapham,) whose sermons have obtained
a good deal of celebrity, possessed a fine mind, but
was of rather an indolent habit, and rarely began
his preparation for the Sabbath till Saturday even-
ing. He remarked that the memoir of Henry Venn
had then lately been published by his grandson, wl
resided at High Gate ; and that the reason why
had been so long delayed was, that he preachec
some time in Kowland Hill's chapel, and some of
his relatives thought that was a circumstance which
would not bear to be stated. Mr. Pratt introduced
me to his son, who was then a curate, and I am
not sure but that he was officiating in the same
church with his father.
With Mr. HORNE, the author of the Introductioi
to the Studv of the New Testament, I had ha
THOMAS H.ARTWELL HORNE. 175
some correspondence, and, therefore, felt at liberty
to call upon him without an introduction. He was
rather below the middle size ; was very bald, and
had an agreeable, but not particularly striking, face.
As everybody has a hobby, I quickly found that his
was nothing less than the "Anglican Church as the
great bulwark of Protestanism." He seemed grati-
fied to know that his work had found so much favour
in this country, and gave me somewhat in detail
its history, from its inception to its completion. He
said nothing which indicated that he bore any ill-
will towards the Dissenters ; but the Koman Catho-
lic Church he regarded as a mere nest of abomina-
tions, and had no doubt that Protestantism had yet
to fight a mighty battle. He lived in a plain but
agreeable way, and his family consisted of his wife
and daughter, one or more of his children having,
not long before, been removed by death. He
preached on the evening of the day that I dined
with him, and I attended the service. His sermon,
which was on the fall and recovery of Peter, was
plain, but sensible and excellent. It was closely read,
unaccompanied, so far as I remember, with either
gesture or much apparent fervour. The reading of
the service by some curate was bad enough, but the
reading of the hymns by the clerk cast all other
monotonies that ever fell upon my ear into deep
shade. The church was in Nicholas Lane, Lom-
bard Street — a very dark street in the heart of
London ; but it was a fine old piece of architecture,
176 THOMAS HARTWELL HORNE.
and bore marks of the genius of Sir Christopher
Wren. Mr. Home must, I think, be one of the
most industrious men living. Besides performing
all the duties of a parish minister, he had an office
in the British Museum, which kept him there six
or eight hours of each day, and, in addition to all
this, had done more through the press than almost
any of his cotemporaries.
Mr. Home seemed to me to possess a truly liberal
spirit, and to feel a deep interest in all that was
doing by Christians of different communions for the
advancement of the common cause of truth and
righteousness. He is truly a self-made man, and
has risen to his present eminence by dint of long-
continued and unremitted effort. I found him ex-
tremely obliging, and more than willing to minister
to my gratification in every way he could. I occa-
sionally correspond with him, and ana always de-
lighted to get a letter dated " St. Nicholas7 Kec-
tory."
XXVI.
first introduction to this venerable man was
within a few days after my arrival in London,
in 1828. I had no letter to him ; but was casually
introduced to his son, and through him to the whole
family. Stranger as I was, they immediately invited
and even urged me to give up my lodgings, and
make my abode with them during my sojourn in
London ; and, though I had many misgivings on
the score of delicacy, considering especially the man-
ner of my introduction to them, I was finally in-
duced to forego my scruples and accept their hos-
pitality. It was a most fortunate circumstance in
the history of my travels ; for it was not only the
means of my being domesticated for several weeks
in one of the most delightful families I have ever
known, on either side of the water, but it secured
to me many valuable acquaintances in different parts
of England, and gave to my whole visit an interest
as intense as it was unexpected.
Mr. WILSON, when I first saw him, must have
8*
178 THOMAS WILSON.
been about sixty-four or sixty-five years of age.
He was, I think, fully of the middle height, and
every way well proportioned. He had what might
be called a fine face, evincing at once a thoughtful
and reflecting mind, and an ingenuous and kindly
spirit. His manners were more remarkable for frank-
ness and benevolence than for artificial polish ; though
he could nowhere have been mistaken for any other
than a well-bred gentleman. He was very sociable,
and much of his conversation was of a serious kind,
having a direct bearing on the progress of Christian-
ity in the world ; but he always seemed cheerful,
and had, evidently, a keen relish for a good anecdote.
Most of the anecdotes which he told, however, were
illustrative of the peculiarities, the trials, or the
success, of some of the clergymen of a former gener-
ation.
Mr. Wilson's history is one of uncommon interest,
and is perhaps more intimately connected with the
progress of religion among the English Dissenters,
than that of any other man of his day. He was a
native of London, and in his boyhood was a fellow-
pupil with Rogers, the poet, in a school at Kew-
ington Green. When he was about fourteen or
fifteen, he was apprenticed to the business of a silk
manufacturer ; and, at the age of twenty-one, he
became a partner in that business with his father.
His mind was much directed to serious subjects from
his childhood ; and the good impressions which were
made under the parental roof are supposed to have
THOMAS WILSON. 179
been deepened by the influence of the Rev. Timothy
Priestley, brother of Dr. Joseph Priestley, with
whom he was, for a while, in somewhat intimate re-
lations. About the time his apprenticeship closed,
he became connected with the Tabernacle, in Lon-
don, where Matthew Wilks officiated for so many
years. The preaching here, though deeply evan-
gelical and experimental, was of a free and easy
sort, and probably contributed much to form Mr.
Wilson's taste ; for while he required that every
sermon should penetrate to the very marrow of the
Gospel, he had no patience with anything like self-
display in the pulpit, and could, I believe, more
easily tolerate excessive freedom than excessive for-
mality. I remember his giving me a pleasant hit
on the subject of my preaching from a manuscript,
and expressing the opinion that the best place for
a minister to carry his sermon is in his heart.
About the year 1794, Andrew Fuller, the celebrated
Baptist minister, went to London to preach in dif-
ferent churches, with a view to collect funds for the
Baptist Missionary Society, at that time in its in-
fancy. Mr. Wilson was greatly struck with his
preaching, and especially with his impressive illus-
trations of the great duty of Christian beneficence.
Though he had not previously been unmindful of
his obligations on this subject, this seems to have
marked an epoch in his experience ; and, to say the
least, it had much to do in determining the direc-
tion of his future life. Accordingly, the next year
180 THOMAS WILSON.
(1795), he assisted in forming the London Mission-
ary Society, and was chosen one of its first Direct-
ors. Two or three years after, being now quite in-
dependent in his worldly circumstances, he retired
from active business with a view to devote himself
entirely to the cause of Christian benevolence, es-
pecially in connexion with Hoxton Academy — a well-
known Dissenting institution for the education of
young men for the ministry. This was one of the
favourite objects of his life ; and while he gave most
liberally of his time and his money to sustain it,
he always exercised a paternal guardianship over
the pupils, and suffered no opportunity to pass un-
improved for aiding, especially, their spiritual growth.
He had definite and well-considered views of every
part of ministerial duty, and he even published a
tract, containing his views, which, I believe, has passed
through several editions. In 1799, he was chairman of
the meeting that resolved to form the (London) Tract
Society ; and he continued a member of the com-
mittee of that Society until 1806, when he resigned
his place for the sake of giving more of his time
to other objects. He had a hand, also, in originat-
ing the British and Foreign Bible Society, in 1804,
and was always found among its efficient auxiliaries
till the close of life. But that which may be said
to have emphatically constituted his mission, was
the repairing of old chapels, or the building of
new ones, in almost every part of England. Having
had a large accession to his fortune, by means
THOMAS WILSON. 181
a legacy, some years after he retired from secular
business, he was able, without embarrassment, to
meet almost innumerable exigences of this kind ;
and he was constantly upon the look-out for such
opportunities of exercising his benevolence. He
lived in no more expensive style than his general
relations to society demanded ; regarding himself
constantly in the character of a steward, and his
property in the light of a deposit.
Mr. Wilson, though not educated for the ministry,
occasionally performed the functions of a preacher.
The first instance of it occurred in this way — He
was stopping at some place where the celebrated
James Haldane was expected to preach ; but, being
prevented from fulfilling his engagement, he urged
Mr. Wilson to take his place. Mr. Wilson con-
sented to the proposal, though not without much
reluctance ; but he was so well satisfied with the
freedom and success of his effort, that he was not
unwilling to repeat the experiment ; and the result
was that he preached whenever he thought there
was a special occasion for it, and for some time took
his turn regularly with several of the London min-
isters in preaching to the inmates of the Female
Penitentiary. I did not hear him preach, but un-
derstood that he was very evangelical in his teach-
ings, and simple and earnest in his manner.
What interested me more than perhaps anything
else in Mr. Wilson's conversation, was his copious
reminiscences of the great men, especially the clis-
182 THOMAS WILSON.
tinguished ministers, who had passed off the stage.
For Whitefield's memory he had an almost un-
bounded reverence. I think he had no distinct
recollections of him, though he was taken in his in-
fancy to see him on a certain occasion, when he
preached in the Tabernacle ; but his early associa-
tions, as well as his later tastes and convictions,
were all in favour of Whitefield's preaching. He
was well acquainted with John Bemdge, White-
field's intimate friend, and in many respects a kin-
dred spirit. He thought highly, too, of John Wes-
ley ; and remembered well what deep and extensive
mourning there was when his death occurred, and he
was laid out in his gown and bands. He had heard
John Newton preach, and represented him as the very
personification of evangelical sincerity and earnestness ;
but, if my memory serves me, he had no personal
acquaintance with him. Dr. Bogue, Dr. Balfour,
of Glasgow, the accomplished and devout Cecil, and
many others, he was able to describe in a manner
which left me in no doubt of the correctness of his
recollections, while it evinced his high appreciation
of their characters.
Mr. Wilson, at some period of his life, publishe
a selection of Hymns for social worship. There i
also from his pen a tract on Baptism ; in which
he maintains the position, that all parents believ-
ing the Divine authority of the Christian religion,
and attending the means of religious instruction,
may require baptism for their children, even though
THOMAS WILSON. 183
they may not consider themselves as regenerate per-
sons. The mode of administering the ordinance
which he thought most scriptural, was by affusion ;
though, in the case of infants, he thought that
sprinkling was both allowable and expedient.
When I returned to London, eight years after my
first visit, I found my venerable friend as hospitable,
and cheerful, and almost as active as ever. The
objects for which he was labouring were the same
which had so constantly occupied his time and
thoughts during my previous visit ; though it seemed
to me that his affections were still more firmly fixed
upon Heaven. His wife, a highly cultivated, amiable,
benevolent, and devout person, was still alive — an
efficient fellow-helper with her husband unto the
kingdom of God. When we parted, it was with a
full confidence that we should never meet again on
earth. It was but a few years before death separ-
ated them, but they were quickly re-united in Heaven.
They left two daughters, both wives of clergymen,
and one son, who is a faithful representative of his
father's public spirit and beneficence ; and whom I
am permitted still to reckon among my friends.
XXVII
AND
AS I was stepping into the coach at Yar-
-^ mouth, to go to Norwich, I was introduced
to Dr. Yelloly, a Fellow of the Koyal Society,
and a person of considerable note in the literary,
and especially the medical, circles of Great Britain.
He was going to Norwich, and thence to his resi-
dence at Woodton, a few miles beyond, where he
had a splendid establishment. As he was well ac-
quainted at Norwich, and knew that I was a stranger
there, he volunteered to render me any service that I
might need ; and I availed myself very freely of
his kindness. As his home lay in the direction in
which I was to travel, he made me promise that,
after my visit at Norwich, I would come and pass
at least a night with him. I fulfilled my promise,
and found myself in one of the most delightful
families that I met in England. Though I was
JOSEPH JOHN GURNEY. 185
with them less than twenty-four hours, their cordial
and whole-souled manner, and devoted attentions
to me, left an impression upon my mind which time,
as yet, has done nothing to efface. It was but a
few years that they remained on the beautiful spot
which they then occupied. I kept track of them
for some time, but the last I knew of them was,
that sad worldly reverses, sickness and death, had
overwhelmed them with desolation. The family, as
I knew it, consisted of the parents, and, I believe,
six lovely and intelligent daughters, besides a son,
who was an Episcopal clergyman ; but how many,
or whether any of them, survive to remember the
bright and joyous days of their youth, I know not.
My introduction to Dr. Yelloly was one of those
little and (as we say) accidental, things, which one
sometimes meets on a journey, but which lead to re-
sults that are never forgotten.
As Dr. Yelloly went with me to Norwich, so he
called with me upon JOSEPH JOHN GURNEY, whom
we were fortunate enough to find at his counting-
house ; and this gave me the advantage of a double
introduction, as I had already an introductory note
from Mrs. Fry ; and I found that she had informed
him by a letter, of my intended visit. I never, in
my life, felt the real dignity of the Quaker as I
on meeting him. When Dr. Yelloly mentioned my
name, he gave me a most friendly shake of the
hand, and said — " I knew thou wert coming by a
letter from my sister, Elizabeth Fry, and now I
186 JOSEPH JOHN GURNET.
welcome thee to Norwich, and hope thou wilt stay
and make us a good visit." His residence was at
Earlham, two miles out of the city. "And now/'
said he, "thou wilt go and dine with me at five
o'clock ; and thou wilt go too, John," (speaking to
Dr. Yelloly,) " and I will send an invitation to
John Alexander," (a Congregational clergyman, to
whom I had a letter,) "also." His countenance
beamed with generous kindness, and, from the mo-
ment that I first set eyes upon him, I felt that
he was no common specimen of humanity. Every-
thing that I saw of him afterwards, both in his
own circle at home, and in this country, not only
justified, but rendered still deeper and more defi-
nite, my first impression.
After leaving Mr. Gurney, the Doctor, my newly-
acquired friend, proposed to me, before going to
Mrs. Opie's, to call on Lady Smith, the widow of the
late Sir James Edward Smith, the celebrated bota-
nist, who was a person of high endowments, and, I
think, was her husband's biographer. She was ex-
tremely lady-like and affable, and took from me at
once all sense of the stranger. She quite found
fault with me for having arranged for so short a
visit, and said she regretted that I could not stay
long enough to give her the opportunity of inviting
some of her friends to meet me. I made some ref-
erence to Miss Joanna Baillie, whom I had seen a
few days before, and she remarked that Miss Baillie
had lately published a small work, from which i
MRS. OPIE. 187
appeared that she was an Arian ; and this led us
to some conversation on the general subject of
Unitarianism. She seemed to be exceedingly char-
itable towards differences of religious opinion, and
thought it reasonable to expect that, in the pro-
gress of knowledge on all other subjects, there
would be a corresponding progress in religion. I
understood that Lady Smith had, at least, a nom-
inal connexion with the Established Church, but
was no great stickler for all the Thirty-nine Arti-
cles. She was altogether a splendid woman — splen-
did in her person, her manners, and her intellectual
endowments ; but somebody gave me a portrait of
her — at least a portrait with her name under it —
that looks as if she had just escaped from Bedlam.
From Lady Smith's we went to Mrs. OPIE'S. I
had previously had some communication with her
by letter, and we met almost as old friends. She
did not seem to me to be a natural Quaker ; and,
though I saw before me the Quaker dress, and
heard the thee and thou, she was so bright and
cheerful — I might almost say, gay — -that it really
required an effort for me to believe that her Quaker-
ism was a matter of sober reality. However, she
really was a bona fide member of the Society, and,
I doubt not, a highly exemplary one, too ; for, not-
withstanding the buoyancy of her spirits, I had, af-
terwards, evidence that she was truly and deeply
devout. Almost the first thing she said to me after
I met her was, pointing to an American volume of
188 JOSEPH JOHN GURNET.
sermons that lay on the table, "There, I am in
the habit of reading that book to my servants on
first-day evening." As she knew that I had just
come from the Continent, she made many inquiries
concerning my tour ; and then gave me many in-
teresting particulars of a visit which she had made,
not long before, at Paris. She was a short, stout
person, and seemed to me then to be verging towards
sixty ; but she was, evidently, extremely youthful
in her feelings, and all her faculties were in their
full vigour. As this was Saturday, she requested
me to dine with her on Monday ; and when I told
her that my engagements would not permit it, she
invited me to breakfast ; and that invitation I ac-
cepted.
I went, -agreeably to appointment, to dine with
Mr. Gurney. He lived in a fine old mansion, which
had been, and, for aught I know, was then, in pos-
session of a branch of Lord Bacon's family ; though,
for the fifty years preceding, it had been occupied
by the Gurneys. Mr. Gurney immediately showed
me into my room, as he called it, where there was
a good fire, and every preparation made for my pass-
ing the night ; but I had made such previous ar-
rangements that I was obliged to deny myself the
proffered hospitality. Mr. Gurney was at that time
a widower, and his family consisted of two chil-
dren— a son and a daughter, his sister, and the
sister of his late wife ; and he had also two or
three highly intelligent female friends passing
JOSEPH JOHN GUENEY. 189
little time with him. A more lovely or intelligent
domestic circle, I know not that it has ever been my
privilege to see ; it was the highest style of social
refinement, of intellectual and moral culture, quali-
fied by the beautiful simplicity of a truly devout
Quakerism. They did me the honour to talk, most
of the evening, of my country, and nothing was said
even about slavery itself, that I could not cordially
respond to ; for they manifested no sympathy with
the ultras, and reprobated the course of George
Thompson, whose first remarkable mission to this
country had just before terminated, as evil in itself,
and disastrous in its tendency ; while, at the same
time, they looked upon slavery as our great na-
tional calamity. Mr. Gurney gave me a very inter-
esting account of Dr. Bathurst, then Bishop of Nor-
wich. He represented him as an uncommonly calm,
amiable, and gifted man, and, in the main, evan-
gelical in his theology ; while, as a classical scholar,
he had few superiors ; and, as a specimen of his
attainments in Greek, he mentioned that he was
able, at one time, to repeat the whole of Homer's
Iliad. He showed me a quarto manuscript volume
of considerable size, containing the record of his
conversations with various distinguished individuals,
but more particularly with Dr. Chalmers, with whom
he was on very intimate terms, during a winter he
spent in Edinburgh for the benefit of his health. As
he perceived that I was much interested in the
parts of the book that I had time to glance at, he
190 JOSEPH JOHN GURNET.
intimated that, perhaps, he might have a copy of
it made for me ; and though I could, of course, do
nothing but discourage it, as it could not -be the
work of less than a month, I found, when I reached
Liverpool, some two months after, that he had car-
ried out his purpose, and had sent me a beautiful
copy of the book, with a kind inscription to me,
at the beginning. He spoke with great reverence
and affection of Wilberforce, with whom he had an
almost fraternal intimacy, and showed me many let-
ters from him, that evinced that the attachment
was mutual. It was a delightful evening that I
passed at Earlham, and one to which my mind never
reverts but with gratitude and pleasure.
The next day was the Sabbath, and I preached
once in a very old Independent Chapel — the same
in which the Kev. Thomas Scott had preached
statedly a century or more previous. I refer to the
Thomas Scott who was one of Doddridge's most
intima-te friends — whose daughter Doddridge tried
to marry, but could not ; though she subsequently
became the wife of Colonel Williams, of Connecti-
cut, who was then on a visit to England, and wfyo
had previously been Kector of Yale College. A
tablet to the memory of this old gentleman was di-
rectly behind me, as I stood in the pulpit ; and
his hand-writing was perfectly familiar to me, from
having read many of his letters, which his daughter
brought with her when she came to America. I was
introduced, at the close of the service, to a Mr.
MRS. OPIE. 191
Youngman, son-in-law of the celebrated Thomas
Harmer, the author of the work illustrating Scrip-
ture by Oriental usages. This Mr. Youngman was
a highly intelligent man, and an author of consider-
able reputation. I dined with him that day, by his
request, and discovered, in the course of our conver-
sation, that he did not admit the divine obligation
of the Sabbath under the Christian dispensation.
On Monday morning I went with Mr. Alexander,
with whose delightful family I was domesticated, to
Mrs. Opie's to breakfast. She had invited three or
four other friends, among whom was her very par-
ticular friend, Mr. Gurney. As Mr. Alexander and
myself were there a little before the rest, and were
speaking of the delightful Saturday evening we had
passed at Earlham, Mrs. Opie brought out a pen-
cil sketch of Mr. Gurney — a most perfect likeness —
which she had taken a little while before, and gave
it to me. Almost immediately upon her doing so,
the door opened, and Mr. Gurney made his appear-
ance. She immediately turned to him with great
good nature, and said, " Here, Joseph, see what I
am doing — I have given thee away without thy con-
sent." He cast a shrewd look at her and at the
sketch, and said, with a characteristic air that I
can never forget, "Amelia multiplies me upon the
face of the earth" — alluding to the fact that she
had taken several similar sketches before. When we
sat down to the table, as the Quakers were in the
ascendant, we had a silent grace, of course ; but I
192 JOSEPH JOHN GUBNEY.
must confess that such a pause for each individual
to lift his heart to Heaven, was, to me, exceedingly
impressive. After breakfast, Mr. Gurney proposed
that we should have a chapter in the Bible read
before we separated ; and he himself read one with
great pathos, and followed it with a most appro-
priate, touching, and richly evangelical prayer. He
then made a direct address to me, alluding particu-
larly to a passage which he had just read, in re-
spect to the anointing of the Spirit, and tendering
me his most affectionate Christian salutations. After
we retired from the breakfast-room, he made an-
other demonstration of kindness, to which I do not
feel at liberty more particularly to refer, but which
showed the most delicate consideration, as well as
the most princely munificence.
Some years after I parted with this noble-minded
and noble-hearted Quaker, with the expectation of
never meeting him again, I had the pleasure and
the honour to welcome him to my own dwelling.
Every body knows that his visit to this country was
one of great interest, and that he performed here
important labours of love. Sometime after he ar-
rived, he wrote me of his purpose to visit me, and
expressed a wish to hold a public religious meeting
in the neighbourhood. With the full concurrence
of the Session, I heartily offered him the use of our
own church. He came at the time appointed, bring-
ing with him three sturdy, veteran Quakers, to share
silently, if not actively, the exercises of the even-
JOSEPH JOHN GURNET. 193
ing. The meeting had been previously notified, and
a very good audience was assembled. My venerable
friend and his coadjutors walked into the pulpit to-
gether, and sat down in devout silence. It was a
spectacle not to be forgotten — three or four broad-
brimmed hats sitting majestically on the heads
of their several owners, where no head not un-
covered had ever before been seen. They sat for
half an hour, and neither tongue nor spirit moved.
I became uneasy lest the meeting should turn out
a failure, at least to those who came to hear ; and
I supposed the wags might nickname it a Quaker
farce. After about half an hour, however, utterance
was given, and a more simple and fervent strain of
evangelical eloquence I have rarely listened to. I
should be glad to know that no Presbyterian church
ever echoed to less fervent exhortations, or to a
less scriptural theology.
Mr. G-urney's visit in my family was, in every re-
spect, delightful. I had, not long before, been sadly
bereaved, and my children were without a mother.
For me and for them he manifested the tenclerest
sympathy. I asked him, the first evening that he was
with me, whether he would choose to be present at
our family devotions, and if so, whether he would feel
willing to conduct them. He said he certainly should
wish to be present, and perhaps, before he left us,
he would once lead in the exercise. As I offered
him the Bible the next morning, he asked me
whether all my children were there, and I told him
9
194 JOSEPH JOHN GURNET.
that all were except one, and him I had been obliged
to send away upon an errand. He handed me back
the Bible, and said, "I do not feel as if I could
proceed unless that dear boy is here — do it in thine
own way this morning, and perhaps I will take it
to-morrow morning." The next morning, which was
the last he spent with us, he sat down upon the
sofa, and gathered the children around him in a
semi-circle, and, after reading an appropriate chap-
ter, addressed a few words of most affectionate coun-
sel to each, with particular reference to the bereave-
ment which they had sustained ; then knelt down,
and offered one of the most melting prayers to
which I ever listened. He took leave of us shortly
after, and, though he frequently wrote to me after-
wards, I never had another meeting with him.
XXVIII
AND
rpHESE were the two persons in Cambridge whom
I wished most to see, and I was fortunate in
finding them both there ; for Dr. Lee, spent the
greater part of the year at Bristol. Shortly after
my arrival in the place, I made my way to King's
College, to find the venerable Mr. SIMEON, who
had long been known to me through his " /SMe-
fofis," one of which, at least, I had seen exhibited
from an American pulpit, with little more of flesh
than he left upon it when it passed out of his
hands. I had had the advantage of a little cor-
respondence with him ; but he did not know that
I was in the country till my name was announced ;
and when it was announced, I heard him say, "It
is impossible ; I do not believe it." However, I
quickly satisfied him of my identity, and he as
quickly satisfied me of his kindness and hospitality.
196 CHARLES SIMEON.
He must have been then verging towards eighty.
In person he did not vary much from the medium
size ; his movements were quick and easy, his face
bright and benevolent, and his whole manner such
as to make me feel entirely at home. Indeed, his
manners were so perfect that he seemed to have no
manners — you felt the attraction without stopping
to think what it was that attracted. Everybody
knows that he stood for many years as one of the
chief bulwarks of evangelical religion in the Estab-
lished Church ; and though, at one time, he was in
such bad repute that scarcely anybody would attend
upon his ministrations, and many treated him with
open contempt, yet he lived to see the time when
the announcement that he was to preach, even on
an ordinary occasion, would draw a crowd. I had
sent him, not long before, several of our American
books, in most of which he professed to be deeply
interested ; but there was one (the Murray Street
Lectures) which he did not like, and he wished to
tell me honestly the reason. Said he, "A number
of your ministers have undertaken in that work to
show what they can do ; and, though they have cer-
tainly displayed ability, I do not think that such
preaching, continued through four thousand years,
would ever convert a soul." I remarked to him that
I supposed each individual felt himself called upon
to make a great effort. " Yes," said he, very pleas-
antly, "it would seem to me like a great effort to
keep out the Gospel." He spoke with much en-
CHARLES SIMEON. 197
thusiasm of Jonathan Edwards ; but he seemed to
admire him rather for the pungency of his preach-
ing than the depth of his metaphysics. Said he,
"His preaching reminds me of a man holding an-
other's nose to the grindstone, and turning with all
his might, in spite of all objections and expostula-
tions." Of Dr. Whewell, the author of one of the
Bridgewater treatises, to whom I had a letter, he
expressed the highest opinion, considering his work
one of great depth and power, and scarcely, if at
all, inferior to any in the series. There was a great
degree of frankness about him ; and I confess I
thought I saw also a little of the vanity incident to
old age ; and, as he is beyond the reach of all earthly
voices, whether of censure or of praise, I may per-
haps be pardoned for bringing out some of the re-
marks in which this evidence of senility discovered
itself. He told me that he preached not only every
Sabbath, but every Thursday, and constantly pre-
pared new sermons. He handed me the sermon that
he had preached the preceding Sabbath, and when
I remarked to him that it seemed to be short, "No,
Sir," said he; "with the emphatic pauses that I
make, that will occupy me fully three-quarters of
an hour." He said that he had repeatedly been re-
quested to prepare another set of sermons to preach
to the University, but, up to a recent period, had
declined on account of his age ; that lately, however,
he had found himself in possession of such an amount
of intellectual energy, that he had actually con-
198 PROFESSOR LEE.
sented to do so ; that he had selected a subject of
great depth, which had very rarely been treated —
he might say, never, since the times of the Puri-
tans ; that he had mentioned it to nobody, and
should not till the November succeeding, when
the sermons would be preached ; that he had writ-
ten two and then burnt them, because they did not
please him, and then a third, and burnt it for the
same reason ; but that he had finally completed the
whole number (four) in a way which, he intimated,
was quite satisfactory to himself. I remarked that
I supposed they would be published, of course. He
said, they doubtless would be, but not during his life-
time, though he should probably have many requests
to publish them. He thought that it would be unfair
towards those who had got all his other works, and
that they would not be satisfied that there should be a
supplement not in their possession." Before I parted
with him, he invited me to dine with him the next
day in the College, which I was more than willing
to do, as well for the sake of gratifying my curiosity,
as enjoying his company.
Having failed to see Dr. Whewell, he having gone
to London, I walked to a part of the town called
Hill Road, distant about a mile, in pursuit of Pro-
fessor LEE, the great Oriental scholar, to whom I
had an introductory letter. I succeeded in finding
him, and he turned out to be one of the most sim-
ple, unassuming, and perfectly accessible great men
whom T over met. He was of about the middle size,
PROFESSOR LEE. 199
was full of life and good humour, and resembled
exactly the only portrait I have ever seen of him.
He began almost immediately to inquire about Pro-
fessor Stuart, and expressed surprise that he had not
heard from him for a long time. He had sent him
a parcel about seven years before, of which he had
never had an acknowledgment, and which he sus-
pected had never reached him ; and, in the same
connexion, he remarked, that he had sometimes had
parcels of books addressed to him from the Conti-
nent, to the care of English booksellers, who had
actually sold them, instead of forwarding them to
him. He expressed some fears lest the growing
taste for German literature in the United States
should prove adverse to the interests of evangelical
religion ; for he thought that the religious literature
of Germany was so identified with its neology, that
it would be difficult to admit the one and keep out
the other. He referred with great pleasure to a
controversy which he was carrying on just at that
time with Dr. Pye Smith on the subject of Church
establishments ; and, as a proof of the admirable
good temper which they maintained towards each
other, he read to me, and then gave me, a letter
which Dr. Smith had just written him, reminding
him of his promise to visit him at Hackney, when
he should return to his parish at Bristol. He told
me that he had formerly had a very poor support —
only forty pounds annually — for discharging the duties
of both Hebrew and Arabic Professor ; but that,
200 CHARLES SIMEON.
through the considerate generosity of Lord Brougham,
he had a place allotted to him in the Cathedral at
Bristol, and also a living in that neighbourhood, five
miles from Barleywood, so that he was then very
comfortably provided for. He had on his table be-
fore him the manuscript of a new commentary on the
Book of Job, which he was then about to publish ;
and he read me large extracts from it, demonstrat-
ing its authority and antiquity, by showing that it
is quoted in some form or other in all, or nearly all,
the Books of the Old Testament. I could see that
he had a degree of enthusiasm in his department,
which, with his fine natural gifts, was sufficient to
account for his rare and almost matchless acquisi-
tions.
I went about half-past three, according to my en-
gagement, to dine with Mr. Simeon. When I got
to his room, I found him and Professor Lee, whom
he had invited to meet me, waiting for me in their
gowns, ready to go to dinner. We immediately
went into a large room in another part of the Col-
lege, where we were joined by one or two of the
Fe/Llows of the College, who dined with us ; and, after
a few minutes, it was announced that dinner was
ready. We were walking in some degree of state
into the dining hall, and had almost reached our
table (for there were several tables set in differ-
ent parts of the room), when we were suddenly
arrested by the voice of a person behind us, who
seemed to me to be declaiming ; but on looking
CHARLES SIMEON. 201
round, I found, to my astonishment, that it was a stu-
dent asking a blessing in Latin. The dinner, though
a very good one, was served up without any great
ceremony, or without the consumption of very much
time ; and when we had dined, Mr. Simeon gave
thanks, in a few words, in English ; after which he,
Dr. Lee, and myself repaired to Mr. Simeon's apart-
ments, where we found a luxurious appendage to
the dinner in various kinds of fruits, &c. Mr. Simeon
took us into his bed-room, to show us the likenesses
of several of his friends ; and he remarked that " that
of dear Henry Martyn," which was one of them, was
so perfect, that it was long before he could look at
it more than a few moments at a time. Dr. Lee
and Mr. Simeon both knew Henry Martyn well, and
the latter evidently loved him as a son. He gave
me one of his letters — a farewell letter, written after
he had actually embarked for India. He seemed
unable to command language to express his admira-
tion of Henry Martyn's character.
As Dr. Lee was obliged to leave early, to meet
an engagement, I remained alone with Mr. Simeon
for some time, and was most delightfully impressed —
as I was, indeed, from the first moment I saw him —
with his lovely and loving spirit. He told me that
though I saw him in comfortable health, he was
daily expecting death, as much as my friends at
home would be expecting my return at the appointed
time ; and he gave me to understand that there
was nothing in the passage over Jordan that he
9*
202 MR. THODEY.
*
dreaded. He blessed me most affectionately, as we
parted, and I shook hands with him, with the full
conviction that it was the last time. And so it
proved.
The evening of the same day I passed in the
family of Mr. Thodey, an excellent Congregational
clergyman, to whom I had brought a letter, and
who was forward to render me every attention. At
his house I met a Mr. Kichard Foster, a distin-
guished philanthropist, who discoursed largely, but
temperately and candidly, upon American slavery.
He told me that his father and grandfather were
both members of the celebrated Kobert Eobinson's
church ; that his attractiveness as a preacher was
almost unparalleled ; but that his orthodoxy had
been regarded as equivocal a good while before he
openly renounced it. At the close of the evening,
Mr. Thodey walked with me from his house to my
hotel ; and kept surprising me as we came through
the streets with historical localities. " There," said
he, "is the house where Eobert Eobinson lived."
" And there lived Kobert Hall." " You have heard of
Jeremy Taylor, I suppose, in America — there lie lived."
And finally, " Did you ever hear of Hobson's choice ?"
" Why, certainly," said I. " And do you know the
origin of it ?" I was obliged to say I did not.
"Well," said he, "here it is — this is Hobson street.
Just in that corner, there lived a man by the name
of Hobson, who kept a livery stable ; and, as the
students were accustomed to come and select his
MB. THODEY. 203
I
best horses, he made a rule, that whoever came
should take the horse that stood first in the stable —
it should be that or none ; hence the phrase, ' Hob-
son's choice/ "
XXIX,
T HAD a letter of introduction to Dr. BUNTING,
and called at his house when I was in London,
but, unfortunately for me, he was out of the city.
It was therefore very gratifying to me to learn, on
my arrival at Oxford, the day before Good Friday,
that he was engaged to preach there the next day ;
and I resolved at once to hear him, if it were pos-
sible. I accordingly went to the chapel where he
was to preach, at the appointed hour, with Mr. Col-
lingwood, printer to the University, an excellent an
most gentlemanly man, at whose house I had pre
viously engaged to stay during my visit at Oxford.
As we entered the chapel, I found a very plain,
!
DR. BUNTING. 205
broad-shouldered, rather coarse-looking man, read-
ing the Episcopal service ; and he read it with such
an air of indifference, that I was impatient for the
end of it, especially as I thought he was equally
so. I took for granted that it was some Methodist
brother of low degree, whom Dr. Bunting had
brought in to assist him in the service ; and, as I
had gone to hear Dr. Bunting, it was a disappoint-
ment to me to hear anybody else.
The Church service being disposed of in due time,
this same indifferent reader proceeded to administer
baptism to several children, among whom was a child
of the resident minister, and « he introduced the ser-
vice with some remarks, that led me to doubt whether
it was not the veritable Jabez Bunting to whom I
was listening. He began by saying that that was
not the time or the place to go into a particular vin-
dication of infant baptism ; that he must be allowed
now to take that doctrine for granted ; that those
who differed from him, differed conscientiously, and
had the same right to their views that he had to
his. He then read the rubric of the English Church
on this subject, and pronounced it excellent, espe-
cially as requiring that the ordinance should be ad-
ministered publicly, and called the opposite mode
"a kind of smuggling." He proceeded to speak of
baptism at some length, first as an ordinance of
instruction, and, secondly, as an ordinance of cove-
nant, and concluded by apologizing to his brother
for having said things which he must be supposed
206 DK. BUNTING.
so well to know and so fully to appreciate. The
address was of considerable length, and, before it
was half finished, I did not need anybody to in-
form me that I was listening to the first Methodist
preacher in England.
The baptism being over, Dr. Bunting ascended
the pulpit, and announced as his text, that rich
and precious passage, "He that spared not his own
Son," &c. The discourse was simple in its plan,
full of strong evangelical thought, very felicitously
and logically presented, and in some parts was even
sublimely pathetic and eloquent. The whole service,
so far as I witnessed it, was conducted with perfect
decorum ; but, after Mr. Collingwood and myself
had retired into the vestry, I was told that there
was a prayer offered, during which there were two
hundred audible Amens, the minister of the place
taking the lead. The service being concluded, Dr.
Bunting came into the vestry ; and, when I was in-
troduced to him, he very kindly expressed his re-
gret at not being at home when I called at his
house in London, and said he had directed his son
to ascertain at Hackney where I stayed, that he
might call upon me. Though I frequently heard
him spoken of as being somewhat of an ecclesiasti-
cal dictator, I found him exceedingly pleasant and
free in conversation, and no more inclined to take
airs than the humblest man I ever met. As he
knew that I expected to be at Shrewsbury in the
course of the next week, and as he expected to be
DR. MACBBIDE. 207
there also, he expressed a wish that we might meet ;
and accordingly he actually did me the favour to
call upon me at Shrewsbury, on Sunday evening,
after having performed the usual services of the
day. If I had been called to pronounce judgment
upon him in the market-place, without hearing him
speak, I should have said that he was a red-faced,
well-fed, coarse-grained Englishman ; but if my opin-
ion concerning him had been asked after hearing
him preach, and seeing him in private, I should
have said that, while he was not at all lacking in
courtesy and kindness, he was one of the most vig-
orous thinkers and eloquent preachers whom I ever
met.
Sometime in the course of the day, I called at
Dr. Pusey's door, having a letter of introduction to
him from Professor Tholuck ;* but he sent me word
by the servant that he could not consistently see
company, on account of its being Good Friday, but
would be happy to see me the next day. I then
called upon Dr. MACBRIDE, a professor in one of the
colleges, and the author of a learned work called
the " Diatesseron ;" to whom also I had an intro-
ductory letter. He had no scruples about receiving
me-; and I found him an exceedingly agreeable,
whole-souled, and intelligent man. When he ascer-
tained that my visit at Oxford was limited to a day
or two, he said that I ought to be making the best
of my time, and immediately put on his gown, and
208 DK. PUSEY.
walked with me to show me the most curious and
venerahle of the colleges. I found that he had no
sympathy with the extreme party, of which Dr.
Pusey was then coming out as a leader, though he
thought Dr. Hampden had gone too far in his
Bampton Lectures, which had appeared a short
time before, and were the subject of animadversion
or discussion in almost every circle. Dr. Macbride
spoke, as Dr. Gregory had done before him, with
great respect and affection of Bishop M'llvaine, and
said that he knew no man who possessed qualities
to grace the Episcopate more than he.
I went the next day, notwithstanding it was the
Saturday after Good Friday, to call upon DR. PUSEY.
He seemed to me to be not much more than forty
years old. He was small every way — being both very
short and very lean ; was exceedingly grave in his
manner, and much disposed to serious conversation.
As he knew I had just come from Germany, he had
many inquiries to make in respect to the result of
my observations on the religious state of things there,
though I quickly found that he knew much more
about it than I did. If I had been obliged to make
up my mind concerning him merely from his appear-
ance in that interview, which lasted not more than
half an hour, I should have been at a loss whether
he was some great revival man, like Nettleton, in
one of his most devout moods, or whether he was
wearing the mantle of some monk, and walking in
MBS. COPLEY. 209
the light of the dark ages. He was, however, very
civil, and invited me to dine with him ; and when
I told him I must leave at two o'clock, he kindly
proposed to anticipate the usual dinner-hour for my
accommodation. This was several years before he
reached the point of his greatest notoriety ; but the
leaven was then at work, and I doubt whether any-
thing has occurred since, that was not prophesied of,
at that time, by some who had the best opportunity
of estimating his religious tendencies.
I was glad of an opportunity of paying my re-
spects to Mrs. COPLEY, the well-known authoress.
She was the wife of a Baptist minister, who was at
that time settled in Oxford, though, I think, he
has since had a charge in some other part of Eng-
land. She seemed a highly respectable lady — was
modest and retiring, and yet easy and communica-
tive. She had written several very popular books
for youth then, and has since added several to the
number. I heard her spoken of by different parties
at Oxford, in a manner that showed that her talents,
intelligence, and virtues were held in high estimation.
XXX,
MBS. SHEKWOOD, at the time I visited her,
resided at Worcester. Her husband was a Cap-
tain in the British army, and was, for a long time,
(I think thirteen years,) stationed in the East In-
dies, where she wrote many of her most popular
works. She was born near Worcester, and, about
nineteen years before I saw her, had returned from
India and opened a school in that neighbourhood,
which she continued seventeen years. This school
was patronized by distinguished families from all
parts of the kingdom, and, it was said, was a source
of great pecuniary profit. Her husband, whom I saw,
seemed to be a mild, amiable man ; but I could not
very well conceive of his being a military com-
mander.
Mrs. Sherwood herself was, in person, rather above
the middle size, and though she had a good, strong
face, it was by no means expressive of great refine-
ment. Nor was there anything in her manners that
MRS. SHERWOOD. 211
was not in keeping with her countenance. She was
civil enough, but she had a sort of boldness and
forwardness of manner, which possibly might have
filled up a chasm in the military character of her
husband. She seemed then to be not much over
fifty years old, and was apparently in fine health
and spirits. She talked with me a good deal — only,
however, because I led the conversation in that di-
rection— about her own publications, and told me
that her " Little Henry" had then passed through
twenty-seven editions in Great Britain, and that
some other of her writings had had an equal circula-
tion. She seemed to know that most of her works
had been re-published in this country, and was
gratified that they had been received with so much
favour. She gave me a copy of her engraved por-
trait, and remarked that it might be re-printed in
America, though it could not be in England, on
account of its being private property.
During her residence in India, Mrs. Sherwood was
well acquainted with Henry Martyn, and regarded
him as one of the choicest and most gifted spirits
she had ever known. She mentioned, also, another
individual whom she knew, of whom I remembered,
in my early years, to have read a most fearful ac-
count in Dr. Buchanan's celebrated sermon, entitled
"The Star in the East" — it was Sabat. As the
name of this individual may now scarcely be known
in this country, it may not be amiss to allude to
that part of his history which gave him his chief
212 MRS. SHERWOOD.
celebrity. Abdallah and Sabat belonged to two dis-
tinguished families in Arabia, and being intimate
friends, set out to travel together in foreign coun-
tries. When they had reached the city of Cabul,
Abdallah, being appointed to an important office
under the government, remained there, while Sabat
continued his travels in Tartary. The former very
soon fell in with a copy of the New Testament, and,
from reading it, became a convert to Christianity.
Knowing, as he did, that his conversion could not
become known but at the hazard of his life, he with-
drew privately from the place of his residence, and
set out to travel, in the hope of finding some retired
place where he might enjoy his religion in safety.
Having reached the city of Bokhara, in Tartary, he
was greatly surprised, as he was walking in the
streets, at meeting his former fellow-traveller ; but
Sabat, having heard of his apostasy from Moham-
medism, quickly showed him that he had nothing
to hope from his friendship or his mercy. Abdallah
fell at his feet, and abjured him by their former re-
lations not to reveal the secret of his conversion ;
but neither tears nor expostulations had any ef-
fect. He immediately gave information against him
to the authorities of the city, and forthwith he
was delivered up to the King, and si decree was
issued for his execution. When the fatal hour ar-
rived, Abdullah was led forth, in the presence of
an immense multitude, to seal his testimony with
his blood. The executioner began his work by cut-
MKS. SHERWOOD. 213
ting off one of his hands, upon which he was offered
his life on condition that he would recant ; but, with
a spirit of calm dignity and true Christian heroism,
he refused to do this, and meekly bowed his head
to receive the fatal blow. Sabat mingled in the
crowd, and witnessed the fearful transaction to which
he had been accessory. He afterwards said that he
saw Abdallah look at him, while the process of
^execution was going forward, but that it was a look,
not of anger, but of pity.
Sabat seems to have been impressed with the idea
that Abdallah would certainly save his life by re-
nouncing his faith ; but when he saw that it was
otherwise — saw that he had really been instrumental
of the death of his friend, he was greatly tortured
by remorse, and that last forgiving look haunted
him wherever he went. At length he reached India,
and while employed there in some official capacity,
he, too, was induced to read the New Testament,
and compare it with the Koran ; the result of which
was, that he professedly renounced Mohammedism,
and was for several years an active and useful coadju-
tor with the British missionaries in promoting Chris-
tianity. When his friends in Arabia heard of his
conversion, they immediately despatched his brother
to India, with a view to assassinate him. The bro-
ther entered his dwelling in the disguise of a beg-
gar, and was actually drawing a dagger from its
concealment upon his person, to plunge it into his
bosom, when Sabat seized his arm, and his servants
214 MRS. SHERWOOD.
instantly came to his deliverance. It was through
Sabat's intercession that the life of this murderous
brother was spared ; and he not only sent him away
in peace, but sent by him valuable presents to his
mother's family.
Dr. Buchanan's sermon brings the history down
only to this point — when Sabat was labouring ef-
ficiently with him for the cause of Christian truth.
But shortly after this, as Dr. Buchanan's own
daughter informed me, he suddenly took the fancy
that his great talents and acquirements were not
adequately estimated, and, in a fit of resentment,
renounced Christianity, returned to Mohammedism,
and went to Persia, where he wrote a work to re-
fute the system which, for several years, he had
been labouring to defend. After this he professed,
for a short time, to have again received the Chris-
tian faith ; but at a still later period, and, so far
as is known, to the close of his life, he ranked him-
self with the followers of Mohammed. About 1811,
he travelled in Pegu, and being detected in some
treasonable attempts against the reigning prince,
he and his fellow-conspirator were put into a sack,
and thrown together into the sea.
I was interested in hearing Mrs. Sherwood say
that she had even seen this monster of a man. She
seemed to have known him pretty well ; but I think
she looked upon him with some distrust, even when
his good professions were the strongest. She said
he had a fierce expression of countenance, and his
MRS. SHERWOOD. 215
form seemed never to bend in the slightest degree ;
in short, she said he always reminded her of a
Saracen painted on a sign-post !
Mrs. Sherwood, as I learned from some of her
neighbours, was, at that time, an extremely high-
church Episcopalian, and her intercourse, as I un-
derstood, was restricted within very narrow limits.
She had also, not long before, become a convert, as
was supposed, to the doctrine of universal salvation.
Indeed, she made a remark to me having a bearing
on the subject, which, though not very explicit, I
understood as an indirect avowal of her faith in
that doctrine. My impression is, that she subse-
quently declared her belief of it without reserve or
qualification. I met with one or two of her pupils
in Edinburgh, who seemed to regard her as a model
teacher, and to remember her with the utmost grati-
tude and affection. I never saw her except on that
one evening.
XXXI.
A S one important object I had in going to Ireland
-^ was to visit Miss EDGEWORTH, with whom I had
previously had some correspondence, I wrote to her
shortly before leaving England, to inquire whether
she would be at home at the time I proposed to
visit her ; and, on my arrival at Dublin, I was met
by a letter from her, informing me that she should
be at home, and extending to me a cordial invita-
tion to come and remain at Edgeworth's town as
long as I could. Accordingly, having notified her
of the day when I intended to go, I started off
early in the morning from Dublin, and found my-
self at the end of my journey — sixty Irish miles —
at two o'clock. As the coach passed Miss Edge-
worth's gate, a servant came out to take my lug-
gage ; but, as the hotel was within a few rods, I
preferred to keep my seat until we reached it, and
the servant followed me to accompany me back to
the house. The village is as miserable-looking a
MARIA EDGEWORTH. 217
place as one often sees, and as it was market-day,
I had an opportunity of witnessing the degradation
of the whole surrounding population to the great-
est advantage ; but the Edgeworth house was a fine,
spacious old mansion, with a splendid lawn stretch-
ing before it, and everything to indicate opulence
and hereditary distinction. I do not remember to
have seen what I thought a more beautiful place
in all Ireland.
As I entered the house, Miss Edgeworth was the
first person to meet me ; and she immediately in-
troduced me to her mother, Mrs. Edgeworth, her
father's fourth wife, and her sister, Miss Honora
Edgeworth, who has since been married and resides
in London. Miss Edgeworth, in her personal ap-
pearance, was anything but what I expected. She
was below the middle size ; her face was exceedingly
plain, though strongly indicative of intellect ; and
though she seemed to possess great vigour of body
as well as of mind, it was, after all, the vigour of
old age. I supposed her to be about sixty-five, but
I believe she was actually on the wrong side of
seventy. Her step-mother, Mrs. Edgeworth, who,
for aught I know, is still living, must have been, I
think, rather younger than Maria, and was not only
a lady of high intelligence, but of great personal
attractions, and withal, as I afterwards ascertained,
of a very serious turn of mind. As Miss Edgeworth
knew that my visit was to be limited to a single
day, she told me almost immediately that she wished
10
218 MARIA EDGEWORTH.
to know in what way she could contribute most to
my gratification ; whether by remaining in the house,
or walking over the grounds ; kindly suggesting at
the same time that I had better first take a little
lunch, and then a little rest. She talked upon a
great variety of subjects, and I set her down as de-
cidedly one of the best talkers I ever met with.
There was nothing about her that had even any
affinity to showing off or trying to talk well, but
she evidently did not know how to talk otherwise.
She seemed to have the most mature thoughts on
every subject, and, without the semblance of effort,
'they took on the most attractive dress. I was not
unwilling to hear what she had to say about slav-
ery. She reprobated the course of the ultra anti-
slavery men as eminently adapted to defeat its own
end ; and remarked that to give the slaves liberty
before they were qualified to use it, would be only
giving them liberty to starve, and perhaps to cut
each other's throats, and the throats of their mas-
ters. I happened to relate an anecdote which I had
heard, of a young man -in Edinburgh having read
as an exercise before the Presbytery a sermon, the
substance of which he had heard a celebrated clergy-
<r
man preach ; and it turned out afterwards that the
clergyman himself had stolen it from some book.
"Dear me," said Miss Edgeworth, "that was like
taking the impression of a forged guinea." She said
that she had been indebted for a number of years
to Mr. Ralston, of Philadelphia, for two of our Re-
MARIA EDGEWOETH. 219
views, one of winch was the North American ; and
that she thought that that particularly was better
as a Eeview than either the London Quarterly or
the Edinburgh. She spoke of a notice of the life
of her father in the North American, written by an
Unitarian clergyman of Massachusetts, as contain-
ing one thing (she did not mention what it was)
that had given her great pain ; that she had ad-
dressed a letter to a distinguished individual in
Boston on the subject, and that the author of the
article had written her a very kind letter, assuring
her that the mistake should be corrected. She
stated also that there had been a snarling review
of the same work in Great Britain, in which her
father's veracity was called in question, in respect
to a statement he had made concerning Lady Edge-
worth. He had said that her servant had come
down from the garret, and, on being asked what
she had done with a candle which she had taken
up without a candlestick, replied that she had stuck
it into a barrel of black sand, which Lady Edgeworth
knew to be gunpowder ; that she went up, and with
her own hand took the candle away ; and, on coming
down stairs, fell upon her knees, and gave God
thanks for the wonderful deliverance. This the
reviewer had pronounced incredible ; but Miss Edge-
worth assured me that her father had only quoted
from a manuscript of Ms father, which she would
show me before I left ; and that the attack upon
her father was a mere matter of revenge. She said
220 MARIA EDGEWORTH.
that she felt it keenly as a daughter, but perhaps
it was not very creditable to her head that she
should care for it at all. She spoke of Sir Walter
Scott with boundless respect, and represented him
as being simple as a child ; and immediately added,
that she regarded him, Sir James Mackintosh, and
Dr. Channing, as the three finest writers the age
had produced. She spoke respectfully of many
Americans who had visited her ; but she thought
the most thoroughly accomplished gentleman whom
she had seen from the United States, was Professor
Ticknor. She regretted that she had never heard
Kobert Hall preach ; but she thought his published
sermons were incomparably eloquent, and his char-
acter, as it came out in his life, was one of the
highest interest. She talked a good deal about
Madame de Stael ; and though she had never seen
her, she had seen and admired her two children —
the Baron de Stael and the Duchess de Broglie.
She said that there could be no doubt that she was
chargeable with some very gross errors in her life,
but some allowance must be made for the customs
of the country ; that it was greatly in her favour
that she condemned her own course, and inculcated
rigid virtue upon her children and others ; and that
some of the French women seemed to her to think
that Madame de Stael's principal sin consisted i
her repentance. She expressed great veneration fo
the character of Mrs. Hannah More, though sh
thought that, in her old age, she was a little too
MARIA EDGEWORTH. 221
puritanical, in thinking it a loss of time to read Sir
Walter Scott's works.
Miss Edgeworth expressed deep concern in re-
spect to the influence of Komanism upon the char-
acter and destiny of Ireland. She had no doubt
then that the secret intention had been to persecute
and drive out the Protestants, though it was not till
a short time before that she had become convinced of
it. She alluded with regret to the attacks that had
been made upon our country by British travellers ;
but she thought they were generally so palpably
unjust as to carry their own antidote along with
them. She said that Mrs. Trollope, with all her
bad behaviour, was certainly very clever ; that some
of her descriptions showed a high order of talent ;
and as for Captain Hall, he was at once an ill-
tempered and good-natured creature ; that he had
his object to answer in making his book, and he had
accomplished it as well as he could. She gave me
a fine portrait of her father, and told me that I
must value it the more, as it was the very last that
she had, with the exception of one that she kept for
herself. I was suffering not a little at that time
from the weakness of my eyes. She told me that
she had suffered greatly for two years from the same
cause ; that the only advice the most distinguished
oculists gave her was, that she should give her eyes
perfect rest ; and by following that prescription, so
far as never to read or write when it gave her pain,
she at length regained her former strength of sight.
222 MARIA EDGEWORTH.
She mentioned that a certain well-known Jew in
this country, since deceased, had written to her, ap-
parently with a view to draw from her some ex-
pression of approbation in respect to his professed
zeal in behalf of his nation ; but she said that the
letter impressed her very unfavourably ; that she
did not believe that he was a Jew at heart, or any-
thing else in particular, except a rogue. She opened
her closet, and asked me to notice the American
part of her library ; and I observed it consisted almost
entirely of books which had been presented by her
Unitarian friends at Boston. Some of her own works
happened to be there also, and she was led to speak
of her experience with some of her publishers. She
mentioned that one of them had repeatedly requested
her to abate from the amount which he had engaged
to pay her, and that she had done so ; but at length,
after she had told him explicitly to make proposals
he would abide by, he wrote her a letter, saying
that he wished another abatement, and that he found
that, on the whole-, he had lost by her works ; and
she then wrote him in reply that, in consequence of
the loss he had sustained, she would transfer her
publications to other hands. He afterwards earnestly
requested that she would excuse him for having
thus written, and desired to retain the works ; but
she was inflexible, and he very angry. Her former
publisher, she said, when he found himself dying,
called for a letter to her which was then unfinished,
and requont'vl that there should be inserted a promis
MARIA EDGEWORTH. 223
of £1000 or £1200 more than lie had engaged to
give her for one of her works ; for it had been so
much more profitable to him than he had expected,
that he could not die in peace till he had done justly
by her ; and his heirs executed his will in accordance
with this dying suggestion.
While Miss Edgeworth was occupied in something
designed to contribute to my gratification, Mrs. Edge-
worth stepped with me into the library ; and my eye
accidentally rested upon the Life of Major Andre.
As I opened the volume, I asked her if she knew
what ever became of the young lady to whom Major
Andre was engaged to be married. "Why," said
she, " I perceive you do not know the history of this
family very thoroughly. That young lady, Miss Ho-
nora Snead, was my husband's (Mr. Edgeworth's) first
wife ;" and she then brought me her miniature,
which represented her as extremely beautiful ; and,
indeed, Mrs. Edgeworth said that she was reputed
one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom.
As we were speaking of the character of Miss Edge-
worth's writings, she expressed her regret that there
was little or nothing of the religious element in
them ; but she said that Maria was opposed on prin-
ciple to introducing religion into works of fiction ;
that she thought it lowered the dignity of the sub-
ject to bring it into such an association ; but that
she (Mrs. Edgeworth) thought she might have in-
troduced a chapter of a religious cast in one of her
early works on education, in consistency with her
224 MARIA EDGEWORTH.
avowed principle. She walked with me for half an
hour about the grounds, and took me to the little
old church in the neighbourhood, which they were
accustomed to attend, the spire of which was lifted
by means of some invention of her deceased husband,
of which there is a printed account. She went with
me to the family vault of the Edgeworths, built by
Maria's grandfather, where she said many of the
family were already laid. We walked also to the
house of the old rector of the church, who, I un-
derstood, was a worthy man, but I judged not a
very stirring preacher. We called at two or three
of the neighbouring cottages, which looked forlorn
enough, but still much better than what 1 had seen
the day before. I said to one of the women, who
seemed to have things around her a little more com-
fortable than her neighbours, "You seem, madam,
to be quite well off here." "Yes, may it please
your honour," replied she ; " and long life to the
family that have made us so." When we returned
from the walk, Miss Edge worth had got several let-
ters of introduction in readiness for me, and I had
only time to take them before the coach was at th
door. I had many testimonies of Maria Edgeworth's
kindness afterwards, as I corresponded with her as
long as she lived.
XXXII.
_, ss
AND
rjlHROUGrH the kindness of Dr. SINGER, a distin-
guished clergyman, and Fellow of Trinity Col-
lege, Dublin, I was invited to a public breakfast —
an annual occasion, I believe — at which were to be
present a very large number of the Irish Episcopal
clergy. I accepted the invitation, and I believe I
was the only person present who was not an Epis-
copalian-—indeed, I was assured that I might reckon
my being invited as, if not absolutely anomalous, at
least a mark of unwonted civility.
The number of ministers present at the breakfast
was about three hundred ; and the greater part of
them, I understood, were truly evangelical and de-
vout men. The breakfast proper was quickly de-
spatched, and then came the intellectual, theological,
and ecclesiastical repast, which was, of course, the
great attraction of the morning. It had been be-
10*
226 EDWARD BICKEBSTETH.
fore announced that Mr. BICKERSTETH was to be
present, and make an address ; and I was happy to
find that he was actually on the spot.
The service, after breakfast, was introduced by an
appropriate and apparently an extemporaneous prayer
from an elderly clergyman, during which there were
frequent responses of Amen, somewhat after the
manner of a Methodist meeting, though without any
tendency to irregularity. When the prayer was
closed, Mr. Bickersteth, who seemed to be a man
of about forty-five, and looking somewhat like my
friend Dr. Lowell, of Boston, arose and commenced his
address ; though, finding that the chandelier prevented
his being seen by a portion of the audience, he soon
took his seat, and proceeded to speak in a sitting pos-
ture. He began by referring to the "breaking up
of the times," and testifying of the deep sympathy
which the English clergy felt with their Irish breth-
ren in their then afflicted state. He spoke of the
great privilege of suffering for Christ, and of the
honour of being ambassadors for Christ, and quoted
a remark of Bradford the martyr, when in prison —
" How thankful ought we to be, that though we are
sinners, yet these sufferings are not so much for our
sins as for the glory of our Master." He expressed
his doubts whether ministers dwell enough now on
the extent of God's love. He expatiated on the
importance of adhering to the doctrines and dis-
cipline of the Established Church, and the danger
of encountering Papists on general ground, rather
EDWARD BICKERSTETH. 227
than on Church of England ground ; while yet he ac-
knowledged there was danger also from the opposite
extreme. He remarked that Satan prevails more by
our divisions than by our outward sufferings ; and
that the cause of all division is seeking to exalt
ourselves — the cause of all true spiritual union is
seeking to exalt Christ. The redeemed cry with one
voice, " Worthy is the Lamb," &c. He went on sub-
stantially as follows : "It is of great importance, not
only to adhere very closely to the Word of God, but
to attach a due relative value to the different parts
of Scripture. There are three evils which the Church
now has to contend with — Popery, Infidelity, and
Democracy. Popery ought to be thoroughly under-
stood, especially by ministers ; for they must ne-
cessarily have much to do with it. There is a
leaven of it in our own Church — witness certain
tracts, called i Tracts for the Times/ published at
Oxford. As to Infidelity, there are said to be thirty
congregations of Infidels/' [I am not sure whether he
said in London or in England,] " who meet every Sab-
bath to hear infidel lectures — the spirit of neologian-
ism is at the bottom of it — witness what has lately
come out in the case of Dr. Hampden. And then,
there is Democracy, exalting the power of the people,
and throwing off all restraint. Dissent has a ten-
dency to foster this, and hence many of our dissent-
ing brethren have become politicians, and lost their
spirituality. The Church of England is to be re-
garded as the grand bulwark against all these evils.
228 EDWAKD BICKERSTETH.
It is important, in contending against one of them,
not to lose sight of either of the others, but meet
them all together.
" There are two or three points in respect to the
studies of ministers, worthy to be particularly con-
sidered. 1. The study of the Scriptures is of the
greatest importance. One-sided views of truth ought
especially to be avoided. The eighteenth chapter
of Ezekiel, and the tenth chapter of John, contain
what at first seem different views of the doctrine of
perseverance. Christ giving himself a sacrifice, in
some sense, for all men, seems at first to savour of
Arminianism ; but then we find the epistle to the
Ephesians qualifying this by teaching the doctrine
of God's electing love. Luther, at first, cast aside
practical James as uncanonical ; but when he came
to encounter the error of the Ana-Baptists, he ac-
knowledged the authority of practical James again.
2. Meditate much on the epistles to Timothy and
Titus. The first epistle to Timothy is against
Popery ; the second against lawlessness. ' The epistl
to Titus gives us a view of the grace and practic
influence of the Gospel combined. Attend also pa
ticularly to the book of Deuteronomy. 3. In gen-
eral, study the old Testament much — it is too much
neglected even by ministers. The Law is of gre
importance, not only as a schoolmaster to bring
to Christ, but on account of the happiness attenda
on obedience — 'If ye know these things, happy a
ye if ye do them/ We are greatly in fault that we
al
-
DR. SINGE B. 229
do not study the Prophecies more ; not to gratify
our curiosity, or to display our skill, but to take
advantage of a light which God has given to direct
us. Beware of Irvingism and kindred errors. Study
Meade and Newton. The doctrine that Popery is
antichrist is fundamental in our opposition to the
system ; but there will be a personal antichrist here-
after." [Here he read an extract of a letter from
Dr. Chalmers, addressed to himself, which seemed to
favour the doctrine of a personal advent of Christ,
previous to the millenium, and expressed the opinion
that there is no hope that the world will be regen-
erated by missionary efforts alone.] "The study of
sound divines, in connexion with the study of the
Scriptures, is of the greatest importance ; such as
the British Keformers, Fox's Book of Martyrs, Jewell's
Apology and Defence, Usher's Answer to a Jesuit,
and his Twenty Sermons ; the works of Hooker,
Bishop Keynolds, Bishop Hall, &c." He concluded
his address, by assuring his audience again of the
sympathy of the English clergy in their trials, and
declaring, with great emphasis, that they were de-
termined to stand or fall with them.
The above is an outline of Mr. Bickersteth's ad-
dress, which lasted somewhat more than an hour. It
was uttered with great seriousness, but without the
least animation, and was evidently thoroughly pre-
meditated, though there was nothing to indicate that
it had been written. Dr. SINGER followed it with an
admirable prayer, in which he remembered very kindly
230 DR. SINGER.
the dissenting brethren, after which the meeting was
concluded by the singing of the doxology.
There was another meeting immediately succeed-
ing this ; or rather this was protracted, for the sake
of considering some matters of interest to the clergy.
Dr. Singer stated that, in order to give the meet-
ing form, he would nominate Dean (I did
not understand his name) to the chair ; and then
went on to say that the subject to come before
them was Church Keform ; that, by the advice of
some of his brethren, he had drawn up two petitions
to the King, praying for relief on two points —
namely, that the Church might be allowed to ap-
point her own Bishops, and also to regulate her in-
ternal concerns ; both of which he considered essen-
tial to her prosperity. He spoke with great warmth
against the existing state of things, and said there
must be reform, or the Church could not long con-
tinue. He was followed by several speakers, who
fully concurred in his views ; especially by a Mr.
Atley, who, in allusion to O'Connell, said, "Who
is it that controls the House of Commons now ? An
enemy of the Church. Brethren, a comet has ap-
peared in our religious horizon ; and as comets were
formerly considered ominous of disaster, so is this ;
and in another respect it resembles a natural
comet — it has a tail." This brought out a roar of
laughter, which, however, did not seem particularly to
embarrass the speaker. A committee was appointed
to reduce the petitions to form : and the only ob-
EDWARD BICKERSTETH. 231
jection made to them, as they were read, was by
one individual, who said he could not consent to a
clause which recognized the King as friendly to the
Irish Church ; hut it was contended that this was
a mere matter of form, and it was not further ob-
jected to. There was also a petition read and or-
dered to be printed, respecting the observance of
the Sabbath ; Rafter which the meeting broke up, and
all separated with apparently the most fraternal
feelings. It was, on the whole, an occasion of great
interest to me.
After the meeting was over I was introduced to
Mr. Bickersteth, and had the pleasure of spending
a little time with him. He was remarkably unas-
suming and gentle in his manners, apparently with-
out much natural fervour, but deeply imbued with
the spirit of the Gospel. There was that in his
whole appearance that bespoke an eminently devout
and godly man. He manifested great interest in
American revivals, and seemed to have bestowed
upon them much serious thought, and to regret
deeply that so many of them had of late assumed
a spurious character. The Kornish controversy was
evidently uppermost in his thoughts ; and I believe
his principal object in visiting Ireland was to
strengthen his brethren in their defence against
this formidable foe.
XXXIII.
T HAD stopped at G-reenock for a day, to visit a
family of my acquaintance, when I unexpectedly
learned that that was the residence of JOHN GALT,
the celebrated novelist. As it was part of my plan
to see all sorts of celebrities, I made up my mind
at once that I would obtain an introduction to
him; and I was sure of finding him at home, as he
was a cripple, and was unable to leave his house,
unless assisted by others.
I found it very easy to get the desired introduc-
tion, as the gentleman at whose house I stopped
knew him well, and felt perfectly free to call with
me. It seemed that he had anticipated my call, and
he met me with a pleasant smile and a hearty wel-
come. He was a large, noble-looking man, of fine
countenance, and simple and agreeable manners ;
and the whole impression that he made upon me
was pleasant. He told me that he had been more
or less a paralytic for twenty-seven years, but had
not been absolutely confined till within the two or
three years immediately preceding. For some time
JOHN GALT. 233
he was unable to move at all ; but he had invented
a machine, the plan of which he showed me, by
means of which he obtained exercise very similar
to that of riding on horseback. He was about
sending an account of it for publication to Fraser's
Magazine ; and after I reached Glasgow, as I had
expressed some curiosity concerning it, he actually
sent me a written description, accompanied with
a drawing of it by his own hand.
MT. Gait seemed familiar with our country, and said
he had visited it twice — first in 1825, and again in
1827, 1828, 1829 ; that he had children residing in
Canada, and that nothing but his infirmity prevented
him from joining them. His recollections of his visits
here seemed altogether pleasant ; and he spoke with
much gratitude of the kindness he had received from
many distinguished individuals, and indeed from the
people generally whose acquaintance he made. He
mentioned a trifling circumstance which occurred
while he was in Canada, which, he said, occasioned
him no little vexation, as it led some to suppose that
he intended to treat our national character with im-
proper levity, when nothing could have been further
from his thoughts. He wrote, for the amusement
of a few of his friends at Quebec, a farce in which
he sportively introduced some of the American pe-
culiarities of manner, speech, &c., but without the
least intention of manifesting disrespect to any
body, or wounding any one's feelings. It was, how-
ever, taken up by the newspapers in quite a differ-
234 JOHN GALT.
ent way from what he had intended, and a Mr.
Graham, a friend of his in New York, and the
editor of a newspaper, defended him. When he
came to New York, that he might demonstrate to
the people the harmlessness of his intentions in what
he had done, he wrote another farce, in which he
took off, in a similar manner, the peculiarities of
his own country ; and this was exhibited, much to
the amusement of the audience, and he believed was
regarded as an ample atonement for the unfortunate
slip which he had before made. He intimated his
intention, if his health should any way admit of
it, still to write a book concerning America ; and,
while he would dedicate the whole work to the Earl
of Dalhousie, he wished to dedicate a certain part
of it to Philip Hone, for whom, as well as for Chan-
cellor Kent and Chief Justice Spencer, (then) among
the living, and Dewitt Clinton and Dr. Hosack,
among the dead, he expressed a high regard. We
had a good deal of conversation in respect to George
Thompson's mission to the United States, which had
a little before been completed, and which he un
hesitatingly pronounced an outrage upon all decency
and when I mentioned to him the utter falsity of
certain statements, concerning things with which I
was personally conversant, which Thompson had made,
and which were then circulating through the Brit-
ish newspapers, he said unhesitatingly, that if I
would write out the true version of the case in an-
swer to his charges, he would see that it was made
JOHN GALT. 235
public in a way that would be entirely unexception-
able. He gave me, as a keepsake, a beautiful little
sonnet^ — the last thing he had written — addressed to
Lady Charlotte Bury, who was his intimate friend,
and whom he considered one of the most gifted
women of the age. I left him, happy in having
made his acquaintance, and feeling that, physically,
intellectually, and socially, at least, he was a noble
specimen of a man. I had one or two kind letters
from him after my return home — a gratifying evi-
dence that he had not forgotten me. Of his religious
views I know nothing ; but he seemed to be very
kindly and respectfully regarded in the community
in which he lived.
XXXIV.
T HAD often heard of G-REVILLE EWING as one
of the most respectable and venerable ministers
of Glasgow ; and when I became acquainted with
him, I found him all that I had heard him repre-
sented to be. He was far advanced in life — I should
think little, if at all, short of seventy ; was of rather
a large figure, had a full face, a keen, expressive
eye, and in his general appearance reminded me a
good deal of President Dwight. In his manners
he was perfectly urbane and gentlemanly, and had
more of the old school about him than almost any
person I met in Scotland. He was rather inclined
GBEVILLE EWING. 237
to be grave in -his conversation, and yet lie was by
no means without a share of good humour, and would
sometimes tell a very amusing anecdote. He was edu-
cated in the Established Church of Scotland, and be-
gan his labours as a minister in that connexion ; but
he left it at an early period, and became a Con-
gregationalist ; and he had for many years stood,
with Dr. Wardlaw, quite at the head of the Con-
gregational body in Scotland. He had the reputa-
tion of being a very learned man, and was the author
of a Hebrew Lexicon. At the time I saw him, he
was laid by, in consequence of the almost total loss
of his sight ; and I believe he never recovered it.
He seemed to feel that the hand of God was rest-
ing heavily upon him, but he evinced the most se-
rene and unqualified submission to the Divine will.
Indeed, I have rarely seen so fine an example of a
truly Christian old age.
As Mr. Ewing was a man of another generation,
and had been acquainted with many of the great
lights of Scotland who had passed away, I made
inquiries of him concerning a number of those whose
names were most familiar, or whose characters were
most interesting to me ; and I could scarcely inquire
about any body whom he had not, at some time,
reckoned among his acquaintance. He knew Dr.
Blair, and once preached for him ; and he pronounced
him one- of the most elegant and accomplished
preachers he ever knew ; but so much was his mind
chained to his pen, that he wrote- not only every
238 GREVILLE EWING.
word of his sermon, but even of his prayers ; and,
on that account, he was once characterized in some
waggish piece as, " Dr. Speaknone, Professor of
Rhetoric." Mr. Ewing knew Robert Walker also,
Blair's excellent colleague ; and he could hardly find
words to express his admiration of his character and
writings. He had to encounter considerable oppo-
sition from the "moderates," on account of the
strongly evangelical type of his preaching ; but his
character was so pure and elevated, as, in a great
measure, to disarm hostility. Mr. Ewing was familiar
also with Dr. M'Knight, the commentator, and often
heard him preach — he thought him a very honest man,
though somewhat eccentric, and he remarked that he
would often give great offence by his abruptness of
manner. He was in the habit of selling his own books,
and would not suffer them to go into the hands of
a bookseller, as he wished to secure to himself the
whole profits. When Mr. Ewing was about leav-
ing the Establishment, he applied, through some
friend, to Dr. M'Knight for a copy of his Comment-
ary ; and the Doctor said, with great surprise, "Well,
if Mr. Ewing wants my books, there is some hope
of him yet." Mr. Ewing was a fellow-student at
Edinburgh with Dr. Mason. He regarded him at
that time as a young man of extraordinary promise,
though I believe he considered him as having more
than fulfilled the highest expectations which were
then formed concerning him. He repeated to me
the anecdote which I had heard before, of Dr.
DK. HE UGH. 239
Mason's criticism, while in the Divinity Hall, on
a sermon delivered as an exercise by one of the
students — that it would be much better if it were
baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.
I understood him that he was present when the
criticism was made. He had a very distinct recollec-
tion of my venerable old friend, Dr. Muir, of Alex-
andria, while he was minister of Lady Glenorchy's
chapel, (where Mr. Ewing himself afterwards for
some time officiated,) and spoke of him as a man
of great Christian worth, and a faithful and excel-
lent minister. I was glad to find that Mr. Ewing
had no sympathy with the George Thompson party
on the subject of slavery, and regarded the popular
movement in relation to it in Great Britain as, to
say the least, of very equivocal tendency.
Dr. HEUGH, when I saw him, must have been
about fifty years of age. He was rather small in
stature, but well proportioned, and had a counte-
nance beaming with intelligence and good nature.
He was not merely cheerful, but playful and hu-
morous, and was the life of every circle in which I
saw him ; and I had the pleasure of meeting him
in several, besides spending some time at his own
house. I breakfasted with him one morning, and,
just before breakfast was announced, we had been
speaking of the climate in the United States, and
he had expressed his surprise at my saying that
the thermometer often rose as high as ninety. As
240 DK. HE UGH.
we were about to take our seats at the table, lie
pointed me to one nearest the f;re, saying, " Here,
Sir, you surely need not be afraid of that, if you
have to bear ninety at home." He was a zealous
anti-slavery man, and yet was not at all above being
enlightened on certain points, in respect to which
it seemed to me that some of his countrymen were
so sure that they were right, as not to desire any
further information. He was extremely fluent in
conversation, and never hesitated for a thought or
a word ; and hence I was surprised to hear him say
that he was accustomed to write out his sermons to
the last word, and not unfrequently his public
speeches also, and commit them doggedly to memory.
It was not uncommon at that time for ministers in
the Established Church, especially in Edinburgh and
Glasgow, to read their sermons ; but in the United
Secession, to which Dr. Heugh belonged, there was
so strong a prejudice against it as to amount well
nigh to an absolute prohibition. Dr. Heugh lived
quite a number of years after I saw him, and was
altogether one of the most beloved and honoured
ministers of his denomination. The latter part of
his life was embittered by a vile attack that was
made upon him, if I mistake not, by one of his
own brethren in the ministry ; but the Presbytery
threw themselves as a wall of fire about him, and
the public at large branded the assailant with de-
served ignominy.
DR. WAEDLAW. 241
I heard Dr. WARDLAW preach, but, owing to cer-
tain circumstances, did not make his acquaintance.
He was a fine, intelligent-looking man, was graceful
and attractive in his manner, read his sermon
throughout, but read with great freedom and ele-
gance, and had so little of the Scotch accent that,
but for his pronunciation of two or three words, I
should not have suspected his belonging north of
the Tweed. I saw Dr. M'GiLL also, the Professor of
Theology in the University. He was far advanced
in life, was very plain in appearance and manners,
but gave me an impression of great spirituality and
devotion. I understood that he originally started with
the Methodists, though he had little in common with
them but their Arminianism ; but he, after a while,
landed in the Established Church, and had been for
many years a thorough and earnest Calvinist. I had
the pleasure also of making the acquaintance of
the Kev. Dr. Struthers of the Belief Church, of the
Rev. (now Dr.) David King, of the Kev. John Ander-
son, and several others of the prominent clergymen
of Glasgow, from all of whom I received marked
expressions of kindness. During my stay in Glas-
gow I enjoyed the hospitality of Dr. Kobert McNish,
the author of the " Philosophy of Sleep," and some
other works of considerable popularity in their day.
He seemed to be a young man of high literary prom-
ise ; but it was promise to a great extent never
realized, as death terminated his career within a
year or two after I parted with him.
11
XXXV.
MRS. GRANT'S "Letters from the Mountains"
had been familiar to me almost from my child-
hood ; and, had I known nothing more of her, the
interest which I had felt in that work would of
itself have\rendered it specially desirable to me to
make her acquaintance. I called to see her under
the advantage of being conversant with some of the
scenes of her early childhood in this country, as well
as of having known a number of persons whom she
knew well as children more than seventy years be-
fore. Nothing could exceed the cordiality with which
she greeted me ; and one of the first things she said
to me was — "Well, now you find me here alone,
and I am alone during the greater part of every
day. I shall be glad to see you at any time, morning,
noon, or night, during your stay in Edinburgh. You
will always find me here, and always find a welcome,
come when you will. I am an old woman, but I
think I have my faculties about as well as ever. I
want to ask you a great many questions about
MBS. GRANT. 243
America, and especially about the neighbourhood in
which I used to live ; and if there is any way in
which I can serve you, either by communicating to
you anything of interest that I know, or by intro-
ducing you to my friends here, it will be a real
gratification to me to do so." I had not the least
doubt of her sincerity, and accordingly availed my-
self of the permission she had given me to visit her
without ceremony, whenever I found it convenient.
Mrs. Grant was every way — physically, intellect-
ually, morally, a great woman. She had a large
frame, a large head, large features, and was rather
masculine in her general appearance ; she looked as
if she might have taken the place of her father in
military command (for her father was a British offi-
cer) ; as if she might have been a match, in respect
either to effort or endurance, for almost any man
whom I ever saw. She was then several years past
eighty, and her memory for old things was as good
as ever, though her repetition two or three times
over of the same incident showed me that, notwith-
standing her own opinion that her faculties were
unimpaired, time had dealt with her somewhat as
with other people. She suffered a good deal from
bodily decrepitude, and was drawn from one room
to another in a chair, and this constituted the whole
of her exercise. But she was extremely sociable
and communicative, and was a fine example of good
humour and youthful feeling coming out in con-
nexion with venerable age. .
244 MRS. GRANT.
She seemed disposed to dwell much upon the past,
and I thought she did it as much for her own sake
as for mine ; though she could have talked about
nothing that would have interested me so much,
She told me that she remembered distinctly leav-
ing Scotland for America, when she was three years
old, her father having preceded her a few months,
and then sent for her mother and herself; that she
recollected their arrival at Charleston, South Caro-
lina, and her seeing with great surprise a whole ship-
load of negroes, though she was not at all frightened
at their strange appearance ; that she and her mother
went thence to Philadelphia, and finally to Albany,
which they considered for some years as their home ;
that she had a little negress under her instruction,
whom her father had purchased, and that she had
taught her, so far as she could, everything that she
knew herself; that her father sold her to a Mr.
Schuyler, when he left the country, and she well
recollected her feelings of agony on seeing the silver
dollars counted out to pay for her ; that the child
told her that, if they were separated, they should
never get to Heaven together ; and that when they
left Albany, she actually followed them even into
the water, after they had got into the boat. I asked
her if she ever knew anything of her afterwards, and
she said " Yes ; I kept my eye upon her for a
long time ;" and then added, " I never make an
acquaintance, but that I follow the individual after- '
wards." When I mentioned to her that I had been
MRS. GRANT. 245
at the old Schuyler house, between Albany and Troy,
where she used to live, and had thought of her, and
spoken of her, and wondered which room she was
accustomed to occupy, she seemed most deeply in-
terested, and remarked that, as she remembered it,
it was one of the most beautiful places she ever
saw ; that the island before it, and the woods be-
hind it, gave it, at least to her young mind, an
almost matchless attraction. She remembered several
of the old Dutch families in the neighbourhood with
great interest, and the late General Stephen Van
Kensselaer she had held in her arms when he was
a little boy. Her recollections of various places in
Albany were perfectly distinct, and she thought not
only that she could easily make a drawing of them,
but that if she were actually set down in the locali-
ties, she should know where she was ! She spoke
of a Mr. Yan Buren who lived not far from them,
but on the opposite side of the river, in a place
which she had always thought must have resembled
Egypt ; and she was curious to know whether the
(then) Vice-President did not belong to the same
family. She referred with great horror to the infi-
delity of Thomas Jefferson ; and mentioned, by way
of illustration, that when Jefferson was travelling
in Virginia, by a church which had become dilapi-
dated, and was used as a stable, he remarked that
" Christianity began in a stable, and it would end
there." She recollected with much interest the old
Dutch church in Albany, which she used to see
246 MBS. GRANT.
on Christmas day splendidly ornamented with, ever-
greens ; and she said that Dominie Westerlo, by his
vigorous gesticulation, would sometimes scatter them
till the pulpit was almost dismantled.
Mrs. Grant left America at the age of thirteen,
in the year 1769. She said that she had actually
begun to commit to paper some account of the
events of her life, and especially what she saw and
experienced in America ; but it was somewhat doubt-
ful whether she should proceed with it. She men-
tioned that if the Yankees, for whom she acknowl-
edged that she used to have no great respect, had
not treated her badly, she should have been a great
heiress ; that two thousand acres of land in Claren-
don, Vermont, were given to her father as a half-
pay officer, and that he bought four thousand more,
making in all six thousand ; and that his intention
was to have sent over Highlanders to settle it, but
that the squatters (rogues as they were) had sat
down upon it, and, finally, it had fallen into their
hands ; that some of her American friends had ex
pressed the opinion, even lately, that it might b
recovered, but that she had never felt disposed t
prosecute the matter. She stated that, on her fa-
ther's return to Scotland from America, they set-
tled down in the Highlands, about equi-distant from
the two oceans, and there she lived at the tim
of her marriage ; that her husband died before he
father, leaving her with eight children ; that, though
her circumstances were greatly depressed, yet fihe
MBS. GRANT. 247
lived continually upon trust, never doubting that all
would come out well at last ; and she had lived to
see her best expectations in regard to the present
world not only fulfilled, but greatly exceeded. She
spoke with the utmost gratitude of the kindness of
Providence in having placed her in such pleasant
circumstances in her old age. Besides what she had
earned by teaching, she had a thousand pounds left
to her as a legacy, by "an angelic young lady" from
Ireland, formerly under her care. The whole amount
of the legacy was five thousand pounds ; but, owing
to the aversion of the family to pay it, she had
taken up with what they were pleased to offer.
In addition to this, she had a hundred pounds an-
nually, settled upon her by Sir William Grant, a re-
mote relative ; a hundred from the widow's fund,
(being the widow of a clergyman of the Established
Church ;) nearly a hundred more in consequence of
her husband having been a chaplain in the army ;
and still another hundred from government. She
expressed a strong wish that the property might do
good after she had done with it. Some five-and-
twenty years before, there was a prize of a golden
medal, or twenty guineas, offered for the best Essay
on the state of the Highlands. Happening to be
familiar with the subject, and to have a little leisure,
she determined to write for the prize ; and she
gained it. And as she was not at that time over-
flowing with guineas, she preferred the guineas to
the medal, though they gave her a silver medal in
248 MRS. GRANT.
addition, which, she showed me. She also gave me
a medal, on which were struck the figures of the
King and Queen, to remind me of her, as she said,
when the ocean should roll between us ; but I lit-
tle needed any such remembrancer.
Mrs. Grant was the warm friend of Sir Walter
Scott, and considered him as, in many respects, a
model man. She said that he was very simple-
hearted and benevolent ; and that a clergyman, who
had been with him some days previous to his setting
out on his last journey, assured her that his religious
views were quite evangelical, and the frame of his
mind very serious. She was also very intimately
acquainted with Bishop Porteus, whose portrait she
showed me, it having been presented to her by his
widow. She was once invited by the Bishop to pass
five days at his house, the time being thus limited, be-
cause his house was to be filled by the Irish Bishops,
who were coming to celebrate the birthday of George
the Third. She told me that her first edition of
"Letters from the Mountains" had in it a good
deal that was playful, though, of course, nothing
that was irreverent ; that good Bishop Porteus
wanted to make a good book of it — which it was
never intended to be ; that he and some pious noble-
man (I have forgotten his name) occupied them-
selves a day or two in going carefully over the
first edition, and cutting out considerable portions
of it, in order to make it more serious, that, on
account of her great respect for the Bishop, she
MRS. GRANT. 249
published a second edition, with his proposed omis-
sions ; and that when Murray the bookseller pro-
posed to her, some time after, to reprint the original
edition, she could not find a copy of it, though she
sent for it in every direction. She told me that her
correspondence was still very large, and every morn-
ing after breakfast she occupied herself in writing
one or two letters ; and that she found she could
not pass a day with any comfort, unless she had
some degree of mental exercise.
This remarkable old lady lived a year or two at
least after my visit to her, and wrote me two or
three kind letters. I love to think of her in all her
masculine dignity, with her great stores of knowl-
edge, her fine powers of conversation, and her over-
flowing good humour and benevolence. Her name
can never be lost out of the history of her country.
11*
XXXVI.
T HAD had some epistolary acquaintance with Dr.
CHALMEKS before I saw him, and, therefore, did
not meet him quite as a stranger. He gave me
the warmest welcome, and did it in the broadest
Scotch. It is not necessary to say how he looked,
for his face has become now almost as well known
in this country as Washington's ; but his appear-
ance was a great deal more youthful and vigorous
than I had expected ; and I was not a little
amused to find him bursting into an expression of
astonishment that I was not at least as old
himself. I told him that I had but a few moment
to spend with him then ; and we at once made an
agreement that I should come over to Burnt Island,
his country residence, distant seven miles, and pass
a day with him ; and he remarked, that we could
see more of each other there in one day, than in
two or three weeks at his house in Edinburgh. He
took from his pocket a letter from Philadelphia,
DK. CHALMERS. 251
and showed me the postscript, in which the writer
had requested him to direct his answer to him, as
" Honourable F W ," &c., and asked me
if I knew the person. Upon my saying that I did
not, he said he supposed that he must be a member
of Congress, from his having the title Honourable.
I told him that did not prove it ; as that title was
0
given to many others beside members of Congress ;
to which he replied, with great good nature — " Then
the appetite of human nature for titles does some-
times break out, even among you, republican as you
are." The question of slavery having been incident-
ally referred to, he gave me, in a few words, the
outline of a plan for emancipation, the idea of which
he took from Humboldt's account of slavery among
the Spaniards — the principle of which is, that the
slave, by having a certain part of each week allowed
him, is to purchase his own freedom. He had pro-
posed the same plan some years before to Lord
Brougham ; and, though Brougham complimented
him for it, and professed to think it very ingenious
and beautiful, yet, on account of the power of pub-
lic opinion, as Dr. Chalmers supposed, he never ven-
tured to propose it to the British nation.
A few mornings after this first interview with the
Doctor, I set out to go to Burnt Island, to pass the
day with him. I walked to New Haven, a miserable
suburb of Edinburgh, distant a mile or two from
the centre of the town, in expectation of taking
the boat to cross the Frith of Forth, at ten o'clock,
252 DR. CHALMERS.
agreeably to what I understood to be Dr. Chalmers*
direction ; but when I reached the wharf, I found
that I was one hour too early. I embarked at
eleven, and, the day being fine, had a delightful
sail across the river. On our approaching the shore,
the small boat came out to meet the steamboat ; but
as I happened, at the moment of its departure, to
be in the cabin, I lost the opportunity of going
ashore with the rest, though the boat returned for
me after they had landed. As I came near the
landing-place, I saw Dr. Chalmers with his little
daughter, waiting for me on the shore ; and one of the
boatmen told me he had been looking out for me
a long time. He gave me another cordial Scotch
welcome, and when I told him that I understood
him to say that the boat came at ten, he said that
he meant that she arrived at ten — as it was her
arrival in which he was most interested ; but he
should be more particular in his directions to his
friends hereafter.
I walked with the Doctor immediately to his
house — a two-story stone building, at the east end
of the village, which he had then lately purchased,
and which commanded a beautiful view of both
land and water. I found but part of his family —
three daughters only — Mrs. Chalmers and the other
daughters being expected over in the afternoon.
After sitting a while, and taking a little lunch, the
Doctor proposed a walk ; and he and his daughter
Grace — an intelligent and agreeable young lady.
DR. CHALMERS. 253
who has died within the last year or two — and my-
self took a stroll over the hill in the rear of the
village, where we enjoyed one of the most extended
and beautiful views in the whole region. The Doc-
tor soon mounted his hobby — the subject of Church
establishments ; and though it was by no means a
favourite subject with me — for I had been surfeited
with it, on one side or the other, from the time
I had entered Scotland — yet I was glad to hear
him talk about anything ; and he discussed this with
such fervid eloquence, that I quite forgot that I
would as soon have heard him talk about something
else. He recognized an important distinction be-
tween external and internal voluntaryism ; the lat-
ter, that is, where the poor are left to provide re-
ligious instruction for themselves, he thought would
never avail ; the former, that is, where persons vol-
unteer to bestow their property for the benefit of
the lower classes, he heartily approved ; and this
he considered the true principle of a Church estab-
lishment— precisely that which is recognized by every
missionary society. He said that a certain distin-
guished American clergyman who had been in Edin-
burgh not long before, made a speech at some meet-
ing, in which he spoke of Church establishments
with great severity ; but that when this clergy-
man breakfasted with him, a few mornings after,
and heard his views of them, he greatly lowered
his tone of condemnation, and even went so far as
to say that he had little or no objection to his
254 DR. CHALMERS.
theory.* I believe Dr. Chalmers perceived that I
did not manifest any great enthusiasm on the sub-
ject, and he soon changed the conversation, remark-
ing at the same time, that he doubted not that I
had heard enough of it, and that he had not intended
to trouble me with it at all.
A good deal of our conversation had reference to
distinguished individuals, with most of whom Dr.
Chalmers had been personally conversant. Of Presi-
dent Edwards, the elder, he spoke with unbounded
reverence and admiration, and remarked that he had
a manuscript sermon of his, sent him by Dr. Sereno
E. Dwight, which he valued above anything in his
collection of autographs ; but he still thought that
Edwards had pressed the notion of disinterested be-
nevolence too far ; that he considered his statement of
this subject in his work on " The Affections" particu-
larly unfortunate, as the Apostle has said in so many
words, "We love Him, because He first loved us."
On the whole, he thought Dr. Balfour, of Glasgow,
had about hit the truth when he said, that "our
love to Grod begins in gratitude, but it does not
end there." He asked me if Edwards had any pro-
pensity to the ludicrous. I told him my impression
was, that he was quite the opposite of that. He
* As my excellent friend Dr. Cox has done me the honour to connect
my name somewhat jocosely with his very interesting reminiscences of
Dr. Chalmers, I trust he will consider it only a matter of brotherly reci-
procity— aa my turn for writing reminiscences has now come — that I
should state that it was he to whom the Doctor gave so much credit for
docility in listening to his expositions of the Church and State question.
DE. CHALMERS. 255
said he had supposed so ; and yet he never could read
his book on Original Sin without an irrepressible
disposition to laugh ; that he pursued his argument
against Taylor to the greatest length ; that he was
not contented to throw him into the dirt, but gave
him a regular kicking and thrashing after he had
got him there. He thought it a great proof of the
soundness of the revival with which Edwards was
connected, that such sermons as his on Justification
should have been heard with such profound atten-
tion. He spoke of Bishop Butler as holding nearly
the same pjace as a philosophical Christian that
Edwards did as an evangelical one — he thought it
was hardly power that Butler possessed, but an ad-
mirable soundness, clearness, and simplicity of de-
sign. He pronounced Eobert Hall more Johnsonian
in his conversation than any man he ever knew ;
but with all his admiration for his intellectual char-
acter, he placed him, in point of original powers,
below John Foster. He told the story, which I had
heard before, of one of HalFs parishioners coming
to him to object to his preaching as not discrimi-
natingly evangelical, and especially as having too
little in it of the doctrine of predestination — to which
Hall replied, "You believe that doctrine, do you,
Sir ?" " Yes, Sir," said the parishioner ; " indeed I
do." " And so do I," answered Hall ; " I believe
you were predestinated to be a fool, and you have
made your calling and election sure." Foster's Life
of Hall he considered as one of the finest specimens
256 DR. CHALMERS.
of biography in the English language, and one of
Foster's most admirable productions. He observed
that there was a most unfortunate discrepancy between
Foster's taste and talents ; that his taste led him
to preach to the poorest classes of society, but that
he entirely shot over their heads, and had actually
preached away two or three congregations.
I happened to mention the name of Rowland Hill,
and the Doctor immediately said, with great en-
thusiasm, that he considered him as one of the no-
blest spirits of the last generation ; and then added
that, as he was passing by his country residence in
England, Rowland happening to know that he was
to be in the coach, met him, and took him imme-
diately to his house, where he had provided a mag-
nificent breakfast for him ; and at the end of twenty
minutes conducted him back to the coach, and in
parting with him, gave him a most affectionate bene-
diction, which impressed him very greatly. He spoke
in terms of high respect of Dr. Miller, and said that
he was accustomed to recommend his book on " The
Eldership" to his students, as the very best book on
the subject ; Dr. Alexander's work on " The Evi-
dences," and his work on " The Canon," also, he
thought very important contributions to that de-
partment of the literature of the age. He spoke
of Dr. Mason as possessing superlative talents, and
said that in 1817 he heard him deliver a speech in
Freemasons' Hall, London, which was characterized
by eloquence that he had rarely known surpassed.
DR. CHALMERS. 257
He mentioned several works with great interest ; and
among them Winslow's Sermons on the " Trinity,"
Dr. Edward Williams' book on " Divine Sovereignty,"
and Peter Edwards' work on " Baptism," which last
he considered as the most comprehensive and ef-
fective argument on the subject of baptism that he
had ever met with.
He gave me some account of his habits of study,
and particularly of writing and preaching. He said
he could never think to advantage till he had taken
his pen ; that he was accustomed to do much of his
writing in the morning in bed ; that he awoke about
five o'clock, and partly sitting up and partly lying
down, took his pen and ink, and in that fine, lux-
urious posture, wrote in short-hand. I suppose,
however, that this early use of his pen was, to some
extent, a matter of necessity with him ; as he told
me that the number of his calls in a day, when he
was in Edinburgh, sometimes ran up to nearly forty.
His manner of preaching, he said, was reading almost
entirely, though he occasionally threw an extempo-
raneous sentence into a written sermon. His difficulty
in extemporizing was, that he felt all the time that
he was not making it strong enough, and dwelt too
long upon a thought ; and, when he had advanced
twenty minutes in the time, he had not advanced
more than five in his subject. He adverted to the
early part of his ministry, during which he had
a great idea of distinguishing himself in science,
and particularly in mathematics ; and he gave me
258 DR. CHALMERS.
a volume of his miscellaneous tracts, in which was
one written at that early period, which he said he
was almost ashamed to let pass out of his hands.
He spoke with great interest of the state of religion
in America, and expressed the belief that, in the
better parts of the United States, there was more
serious religion than there was in Scotland. He re-
gretted the tendencies to extravagance in the Tem-
perance cause, of which he had heard, and told a
story in that connexion that he had had from some-
body a day or two before. Some person had, by some
means, swallowed something in which he understood
there was a small quantity of whiskey, and he flew
into an apothecary's shop for an emetic ; and when
the apothecary gave it to him, and told him he
thought that would relieve his stomach, he said that
it was not his stomach but his conscience that he
wished to relieve. The Doctor said he was not him-
self a member of the Temperance Society, but he
was not at all opposed to it, as many of the Scotch
clergy were, on the ground of its being oppressive in
its claims. He expressed great regret that the Dis-
senters manifested what he thought a very unreason-
able hostility to the Establishment ; but he added
that the country owed a great deal to them, and he
thought their distinct existence quite essential to the
perfection of the system. He spoke of Wilberforce
with the utmost veneration, and stated that he had
twenty-six letters from him which, until within a very
rocerit period, had been in the hands of his biographer.
DR. CHALMERS. 259
Dr. Chalmers remarked that, through the power
of association, he often felt much like a boy, though
he was then past sixty ; that he remembered the
time when he used to look upon a woman of thirty-
six as very old ; and he often found himself making
a similar calculation still. He said it had been a
sort of day-dream with him that, if he were to have
a green old age, he might come to America for a
few months, and mentioned the route he would like
to take, which was chiefly through the Northern
States ; though he would like to go as far West as
Pittsburg, which, by a slight geographical mistake,
he located near the mouth of the Missouri. But he
then thought it improbable that he should ever cross
the ocean, unless there should be a general break-
ing up of the Establishment, and everything else
in Great Britain, and then he might fly with his
family to America to find an asylum.
I asked Dr. Chalmers his opinion of Edward Ir-
ving. He replied that he had no doubt that he was
a truly godly man ; and he attributed his extraor-
dinary and erratic course, not to affectation, as some
had done, but to a very peculiar conformation of
mind. He told me that he himself chose him as
his assistant at Glasgow ; and while he delighted a
few, he disgusted the mass ; that the market was
not wide enough in Scotland for such wares as he
dealt in ; that, after going to London, the great mass
of the intelligent population passed before him, and
a large and respectable portion were detained ; and
260 DR. CHALMERS.
that if he had not fallen into such revolting extrav-
agances, he would have been eminently useful. He
considered him as having had a truly noble soul ; and
when Lord Calthorpe applied to him for his opinion of
Irving, previous to his subscribing in aid of the
building of his church, his reply was, that he was
"a fine specimen of the evangelical engrafted upon
the old Koman." The last time Dr. Chalmers saw
Irving, Irving told him that he could not part with
him without prayer, and he actually prayed with him,
and with great apparent devotion. He acknowl-
edged that he was indebted to his writings for
some new views of prophecy, and thought the mil-
narian system was at least entitled to a fair ex-
amination. He adverted again to the plan which
he had proposed for abolishing slavery in the colo-
nies ; and when I asked him why it was not acted
upon by the British Parliament, he replied that
great bodies move slow at first, but when they be-
gin to move, they go with great rapidity ; that the
popular cry was for the immediate abolition of slavery,
and Parliament could not resist it.
The Doctor expressed great gratification from the
visits he had had from many American clergymen ;
and I was struck with the fact that, in several cases,
he had formed a very correct opinion of their char-
acters, from seeing them an hour or two. He remarked
that he had a very bad memory for names and faces ;
that he had a page in his memorandum-book de-
Voted to Americans, and he regretted that he did
DR. CHALMERS. 261
not bring his book along with him, that he might
have inquired more particularly for some whose ac-
quaintance he had been happy in making.
Mrs. Chalmers came with her daughters late in
the afternoon, and we all took tea with a Mrs. Young,
a relative, I think, of the Doctor, agreeably to an
engagement which he had made in the morning.
Mrs. Chalmers was very lady-like in her manners
and appearance, and received me with the utmost
cordiality. After tea I took leave of the whole
circle, and the Doctor accompanied me to the boat
with many expressions of good will, urging me to come
and spend another day with him, if possible. After
I had parted with him, and the boat was under
weigh, he lingered on the shore till we were getting
beyond speaking distance, when we exchanged an-
other and a last farewell. I look back to the day
I spent on Burnt Island as one of the greenest
spots on a journey of more than half a century.
XXXVII.
TjB. LEE, at tlie time I saw him, seemed to be
"*^ between fifty and sixty years of age, and was
then the pastor of a church in Edinburgh, though
it was not many years after that he became Prin-
cipal of the University, in place — if I mistake not —
of Dr. Baird. I found him very gentlemanly and
every way obliging, and had the pleasure of making
not only his own acquaintance, but that of his family.
I heard him uniformly spoken of with great respect
especially as a man of learning, and I inferred that
he had somewhat more distinction as a scholar than
a preacher ; though I understood that his discourses
were always sensible and instructive. He was con
DR. LEE. 263
sidered one of the greatest antiquaries in Scotland.
He showed me his immense library ; but, unfortu-
nately, it was just then in a thoroughly chaotic state,
scattered over the floor, or piled up in heaps, so
that I could form little idea of what it was, except
in regard to its extent and its antiquity. Among his
books were some, I think, that had been owned by
John Knox, and that bore the autograph of that
lion-hearted giant of a man.
After I had dined with a small but very agreeable
party at Dr. Lee's, we went, according to a previous
arrangement, to attend a meeting of the Koyal So-
ciety, which was held in a splendid hall, near the
corner of Prince's street. We were a little behind
the time ; and when we went in, a certain learned
Professor was reading a paper on the siege of Syra-
cuse, the object of which, as nearly as I could un-
derstand it, was to show that the account given of
it by Thucydides is somewhat doubtful, as it is at
variance with some other authorities. One of the
gentlemen who accompanied me pronounced it the
most stupid paper he had ever heard read before the
Society, and I heard nobody speak of it in terms
of commendation. He was followed by Professor
Forbes, who extemporized for an hour on the polar-
ization of light and heat, illustrating some of his
positions by splendid experiments. He was then a
very young man, and was thought a worthy suc-
cessor to the celebrated Leslie, who had died not
long before. Dr. Lee introduced me to him at the
264 DR. GORDON.
close of the meeting, and I found him altogether an
unassuming and agreeable person. He mentioned
with great respect the names of several of our dis-
tinguished men of science in this country, with two
or three of whom he was in habits of correspond-
ence. I was introduced also to several other men
of distinguished name, with some of whom I had
an opportunity afterwards to form an agreeable ac-
quaintance.
Of Dr. GORDON I had, of course, heard much on
this side of the water ; but I had become more
specially interested in him from hearing him greatly
eulogized by one of his particular friends, whom I
met in Paris, and who had beguiled some of my
hours of bodily indisposition, by reading aloud for my
benefit several of his printed sermons. It was this
same friend who had given me a letter to him, and
the Doctor did not fail duly to honour it. He
called to see me shortly after receiving it, and of-
fered me every kindness. I found him a tall, spare
man, of an intelligent face and Koman nose, mild
in his manners, and extremely interesting in his
conversation. He had a somewhat pallid count
nance, and his whole appearance indicated rathe
feeble health. He was not, on the one hand, so
earnest and fluent a talker as some I have heard ;
nor, on the other, was there any undue precision or
formality in the style of his conversation ; but there
was an admirable appropriateness and finish about
DR. GORDON. 265
it that made it altogether exceedingly attractive.
Whatever the subject might be, you felt that he
spoke from a thoroughly furnished mind. He talked
about slavery with great good sense and moderation.
He, in common with almost every other person whom
I met, especially in the Established Church, repro-
bated George Thompson's mission to this country,
as an outrage upon decorum, and as likely to be
productive of nothing but mischief. He expressed
the opinion that nothing but immediate emancipa-
tion would have done for Great Britain, though he
confessed he trembled when the crisis came ; but he
thought the state of the case in America was so
very different, as manifestly to require that a differ-
ent course should be pursued. I had the pleasure
of hearing Dr. Gordon preach. It was in the High
church in Edinburgh — the same in which Dr. Blair,
Principal Robertson, Robert Walker, and many other
distinguished men, had officiated before him. It was
on the evening of a Communion Sabbath, and the
service had special reference to the peculiar solemni-
ties of the day. The audience was very large, the
old church being filled to its utmost capacity.
Directly in front of the pulpit sat two or three
clergymen, the most noticeable of whom was Prin-
cipal Baird, a venerable, but heavy-looking man —
heavy both in his body, and in the expression of
his countenance, and showing, by his whole appear-
ance, that his race was nearly run. He had the
reputation of being a sensible, worthy man, but I
12
266 DR. GORDON.
believe his ecclesiastical sympathies were pretty de-
cidedly with the moderates. Dr. Gordon's appear-
ance, as he stood dressed in his canonicals, was un-
commonly imposing — indeed, I have rarely seen a
more dignified form, or a more impressive face, in
the pulpit, than his. His voice was uncommonly
well adapted to public speaking— full, melodious,
every way agreeable. He looked like a man of
God, who felt that he was charged with an im-
portant message, and that there was life or death
in what he had to say. His discourse was on the
resurrection of Jesus — the text was, "He is not
here ; He is risen, as He said." It was evidently
the result of much elaboration, and was character-
ized in a high degree by abstract and profound
thought ; though I confess it seemed to me quite
out of the reach of the common mind, and not par-
ticularly adapted to follow up the sacramental ser-
vice. I must frankly say, that the sermon, especially
as taken in connexion with the occasion, disap-
pointed me. However able and ingenious it might
have been, it was too philosophical, in my view, to
be brought so near to the Lord's table. I ought
to say, that my friend, who accompanied me to the
church, protested against Dr. Gordon's being judged
as a preacher by that effort, and assured me that,
among the many sermons he had heard from him,
he had never heard one which approached so near
to a failure as that. I was told by George Combe,
the phrenologist, that he had it from Dr. Gordon
DR. PEDDIE. 267
himself, tliat when he was intensely engaged in
thought, his pulse, instead of rising, would sink, and
his extremities become cold, so that there were some-
times what might be taken for symptoms of ap-
proaching death.
I had a most agreeable interview with old DR.
PEDDIE, who was then regarded not only as a father,
but a patriarch, in the United Secession Church.
He was a fine, large, well-built man, and united
in his manners great dignity with great simplicity
and affability. He remembered Logan, the author
of the sermons which have been so much celebrated,
and was familiar with the sad details of his history —
he was one of the most gifted minds, and one of
the most popular preachers in Scotland, but finally
sunk into disgrace, ecclesiastically, and died in ob-
scurity. Dr. Peddie remembered Logan's father bet-
ter than himself; as he used often to see him at
Haddington, in the congregation of the celebrated
John Brown, under whom Dr. Peddie studied. He
spoke of John Brown with great reverence and affec-
tion. He said that he died when he was but little
more than sixty, and that his constitution broke
down prematurely under excessive labour ; that, dur-
ing the first year of his ministry, besides preaching
regularly on the Sabbath, and performing an im-
mense amount of pastoral duty, he read through a
Universal History, consisting of twenty large vol-
umes, and reduced them to six volumes of manu-
268 DR. PEDDIE.
script. He stated that his manner in the pulpit was
extremely awkward ; but that his matter was so in-
teresting that his awkwardness was easily overlooked.
His sons, it seems, though they all became eminently
useful men, and nearly all of them distinguished
clergymen, were, in their youth, not particularly
noted for gravity. On one occasion, one of them,
knowing that his mother had made a chicken-pie
for dinner, when she expected some company to dine
with them, carefully took out the inside of the pie,
and substituted grass in its place. When the pie
came to be brought upon the table, his mother, on
cutting it, discovered the trick that had been played ;
and, as she cast an indignant look at the son whom
she suspected of the roguery — " 0," said he, " mother,
that 's according to Scripture ; we read that ' all flesh
is as grass/' Dr. Peddie kindly asked me to come
and pass some time with him ; and the brief inter-
view with him that I had, increased my regret at
not being able to accept his obliging invitation.
XXXVIII.
(BURNS' FRIENDS.)
TT happened that one of the first persons with whom
I became acquainted in Edinburgh was ROBERT
AINSLEE, a barrister, of between seventy and eighty
years of age, who was the author of a highly respect-
able religious work, entitled "Reasons of the Hope
that is in us." He had been one of Burns' most in-
timate friends, and was one of the very few who then
survived. He was a man" of very considerable in-
telligence> and of great good nature, though perhaps
his highest attraction consisted in his being a relic
of another generation, and especially a friend and
favourite of Burns. From my first introduction to
him, he manifested a disposition to show me every
kindness, and during my whole stay in Edinburgh
270 BOBEET AINSLEE.
he lost no opportunity of contributing to my grati-
fication.
The most remarkable thing that I heard about
the old gentleman had respect to his matrimonial
history. It seemed that he had been twice married,
and, in the first case particularly, there had been a
touch of the romantic. The circumstances of the
first marriage, as they were communicated to me,
were these : As the young lady whom he ultimately
married was going into the country under the care
of a married man, the individual who accompanied
her fell so desperately in love with her that he pro-
posed to her an elopement, even at the expense of
leaving his own family. The girl was frightened out
of her wits, and immediately wrote home to Edin-
burgh an account of what had occurred. Mr. Ainslee
was sent out by her father to take charge of her,
and he, too, became fascinated by her charms, and
forthwith offered himself to her, and was accepted ;
upon which, before Mr. Ainslee had left the house,
the guilty lover, in accordance with a threat which
he had previously made, blew out his own brains.
Mr. Ainslee was full of anecdotes concerning Burns,
and, though he evidently cherished his memory with
great affection, he showed that he was fully sensible
of his manifold infirmities and errors, while yet he
thought great allowance was to be made for him
in consideration of the circumstances in which he
was placed, and the period at which he lived. He
told me that, at one time, he had not less than fifty
ROBERT AINSLEE. 271
of Burns' letters addressed to himself; but that, on
a certain occasion, he had a large number of gentle-
men supping with him, and he gave each of them
one of these letters as a memorial ; and to Sir
Walter Scott, who was one of the party, he gave the
original, with Burns' corrections, of Tarn O'Shanter,
which Sir Walter afterwards got elegantly bound.
One of his friends told me that, while he was, for
the most part, proud of his intimacy with Burns, he
did not like to be associated with him in his feats
of dissipation ; and that, not long before, he was
present at a dinner party, where some one jocosely
drank the health of Mr. Ainslee, speaking of him as
"the friend of Burns, and his companion at the
bottle ;" and the old gentleman, instead of treating
it as a joke, resented it as a high insult.
Mr. Ainslee had been associated with many other
men of distinguished name, beside Burns. He knew
well Dr. Blair, Principal Kobertson, Dr. Ferguson,
and many others of the same school, and had treas-
ured many interesting anecdotes illustrative of their
characters. He gave me the history of his own fam-
ily, some parts of which were very affecting. Out
of eleven children he had only two left ; and three
of them, who were considerably advanced, were cut
off in a month. But he seemed to recognize the hand
of Providence in his afflictions, and expressed the
hope that they had served to increase both his spiritu-
ality and his usefulness. He was a member of Dr.
(now Principal) Lee's church ; but, I take it) that
272 MES. M'LEHOSE.
he belonged decidedly to the moderate party. His
book, of which I have already spoken, shows a well-
disciplined mind, and much well-matured thought
upon the evidences of Christianity.
He expressed a wish to introduce to me another
of Burns' friends, and a lady of no small celebrity
in her way, whose name had sometimes — though un-
justly, he said — been coupled with that of Burns in
the way of reproach. It was no other than Mrs.
M'LEHOSE, known as Burns' "CLARINDA." She was
then seventy-six years old, and lived nearly at the
top of Calton Hill. I was the more disposed to ac-
cept of Mr. Ainslee's kind offer to introduce me to
her, as I ascertained that she was the grand-daughter
of the celebrated Maclaurin of Glasgow, who wrote
the famous sermon on " Glorying in the Cross."
Accordingly we set out one morning, and, after a
long walk, and a very steep ascent, reached the dwell-
ing of Mrs. M'Lehose. We found her living in a
very plain way, possessing her faculties in a good
degree of vigour, and talking such intolerably broad
Scotch that I could often only conjecture what she
had said. She had been a fine-looking woman, and
still carried with her a good deal of faded beauty.
I very soon began to make inquiries about her grand-
father ; but found that it was to little purpose, as
he had died a year or two before she was born ;
and her mother had died when she herself was so
young that she did not remember ever to have heard
her speak of him. Much as she venerated his mem-
MES. M'LEHOSE. 273
ory, slie said that she had no memorial of him
except his printed sermons ; and she was not
aware that there was anything else in existence.
When she spoke of her mother she wept, and said
that her highest recommendation was that she was
an eminently godly woman.
There was hanging in her room an original portrait
of Burns, which was considered one of the best, if
not the very best, that had ever been taken. It was
indeed an exquisite picture. She and Mr. Ainslee
both looked at it, and talked about the original with
considerable apparent emotion. They seemed to be
reminded by the long period which had elapsed since
his death that the grave would soon be ready for
them. The old lady made some very serious remarks,
and I was glad to learn, from an unquestionable
source, that her affections centered much upon ob-
jects and interests beyond this world.
I learned from Mr. Ainslee that Mrs. M'Lehose had
a fine poetical taste, and had written some things
of a high order. By his request she attempted to
repeat some verses which she had composed on the
anniversary of his marriage ; and, as they did not
readily come to her remembrance, she got a manu-
script volume, and read them to us ; and, at the
same time, read another beautiful piece, entitled " The
Linnet" — the first that she ever wrote. She said
that she was sitting under a tree, and a linnet came
singing around her, and a sort of flash of inspiration
came over her, by which she made the verses referred
12*
274 MRS. SMTTHE.
to with perfect ease. I asked her, as a particular
favour, to transcribe them for me ; and before I
left Edinburgh I had a fair copy of them written
with her own trembling hand. She requested me
to give her my name and residence on a piece of
paper, to be transferred to her memorandum-book.
She had one son, an only child, who lived in her
immediate neighbourhood. I understood that it was
intended that a volume of her poems should be
published after her death ; but whether the purpose
has ever been carried out, I do not know.
The other of Burns' friends, to whom I had the
honour of an introduction, was Mrs. SMYTHE, of Meth-
ven. I do not know her name before marriage, but
she was one of the most celebrated beauties in
Scotland, and drew from Burns, who knew her in-
timately, I believe more than one poetical effusion
in honour of her superior attractions. She must
have been then verging towards seventy, but the
rose upon her cheek had scarcely begun to fade.
She had much more to recommend her than her
personal beauty, or the fact of her having attracted
the attention of Burns — she was a highly intelligent
and devout Christian. Though her circumstances
had carried her into the highest circles of society,
and had made her familiar with fashionable life, she
lived habitually in the fear of God — lived " as seeing
Him who is invisible." I dined at her house, where
I met several gentlemen of the highest respectability.
MRS. SMYTHE. 275
These three friends of Burns have since all passed
away. Though they survived many years their illus-
trious but erratic and unfortunate friend, to whose
name chiefly they owed their celebrity, they have at
last followed him into the world unseen. I am not
sure whether any of the living witnesses to his
strange career, especially any who were on terms
of intimacy with him, still survive.
XXXIX.
AND
T DID not meet Dr. ABEKCROMBIE quite as a
-*- stranger ; for I had exchanged a letter or two
with him, and had received an act of kindness from
him, previous to my going to Edinburgh. But I did
not know, after all, what sort of a man I should
find. I knew, indeed, that he was a great man,
and a good man ; but whether his greatness or his
goodness was to be the more apparent — whether I
was to be more impressed by the philosopher,
or the Christian, or the friend, I had no means
of forming a conjecture.
Well, I found in him a beautiful sample of sim-
plicity, humility, and true dignity. In his person
he was rather short and thick ; was perfectly bland
and courteous in his manners ; had a countenance
indicating great thoughtfulness, and yet expressive
of an exuberance of generous feeling. He made
DR. ABERCROMBIE. 277
me feel at home the moment that I had shaken hands
with him. He had lost his wife not long before — a
lady of the rarest intellectual and moral qualities,
and the family were still in mourning for her. He
had seven daughters, all unmarried, and all at
home ; ranging from perhaps five or six to one or
two-and-twenty years of age ; and I may venture
to say, on this side the water, that I have never
seen a greater amount of female loveliness in any
family. One of them has since been married, and
death has made one or two inroads upon the circle ;
but several of them still remain, and until very
lately they have been occupants of the same dwell-
ing in which I had the pleasure of seeing them.
I saw Dr. Abercrombie, during my brief stay in
Edinburgh, several times, both at his own house,
and in social circles to which I was invited. I
always found him unassuming, affable, and com-
municative. On one occasion he talked a good deal
about Edward Irving. He seemed to have watched
his career with no small degree of interest from
early life ; and though he feared that he had, to some
extent, acted a part, yet he also believed that he
was constitutionally unlike other people, and that
we ought charitably to impute to this a large part
of the strange things with which he was chargeable.
Dr. Abercrombie knew him, or knew of him, as a
school-master, and while he was a young man ; and
he was said to have practised extreme severity
towards his pupils, and, in one instance, to have
278 DR. ALISON.
nearly pulled off a child's ear. The Doctor pre-
sented me with several of his own works, and among
others was a small one of a religious character, which
had then passed through five editions, and in respect
to which, he said, he could state a very remarkable
fact — namely, that it had been much praised by
Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Eoman Catholics, and
Quakers. When I expressed some surprise that he
could have written so extensively for the press, and
upon subjects not immediately connected with his
profession, he told me that nearly all his books had
been written as he was riding in his carriage ; and
that, from long habit, he could think to much bet-
ter advantage in his carriage than any where else.
He asked me if I knew who was the writer of
various articles in the New York Observer, signed
" M. S." I told him that it was a particular friend
of mine — the late Dr. Kevins, of Baltimore. He
replied that he had been quite delighted with the
articles, and he doubted whether there was a more
gifted or attractive writer then on the stage. No-
thing could exceed the kindness with which he
treated me while I remained in Edinburgh, or the
affectionate manner in which he took leave of me.
I received several letters from him after my return,
and I still think of him as one of the choicest
specimens of humanity.
I had a letter to Dr. ALISON from Miss Edge
worth, that introduced me into one of the most
DE. ALISON. 279
cultivated and agreeable circles in Edinburgh. Dr.
Alison is the son of the celebrated Episcopal clergy-
man, who is the author of the work on " Taste," and
also of a volume of sermons on the " Seasons," and
other kindred subjects, which used to be in great re-
pute as a specimen of beautiful writing. I was much
in hopes of being able to see the old gentleman ; but
he was too infirm to see any body, though he sent me
a kind message, and his daughter gave me an en-
graving of him, which was said to be a very per-
fect likeness. Dr. Alison is the brother of the cele-
brated historian, and was — and, I suppose, still is —
I a Professor in the Medical Department of the Uni-
versity of Edinburgh. He is truly a splendid man —
splendid in his person, his manners, and his intel-
lect. Though he was perfectly accessible, there was
a sort of natural nobility about him, that could
scarcely fail to command both respect and admira-
tion. His wife was the daughter of the late Dr.
James Gregory, one of the greatest medical lights
of Scotland, and the grand-daughter of another
Dr. Gregory, who wrote the famous "Legacy to a
Daughter." Mrs. Alison joined to the finest talents
and accomplishments, the most gentle and benevo-
lent spirit, and was equally admired and loved by
all who knew her. After the death of her father-
in-law, the Kev. A. Alison, she wrote me a long
and beautiful letter, giving me a minute account
of his latter days, and representing to me with great
vividness the uncommon grace and loveliness of his
280 DR. ALISON.
character. Within the last year or two, she has
closed her own earthly career.
I met a delightful party at Dr. Alison's at break-
fast. Besides several very agreeable ladies, there
was Sir David Brewster, to whom I shall refer more
particularly hereafter ; Sir William Hamilton — short,
rather thick, of a dark complexion, and fine eye, a
little retiring in his manner, but very sociable when
he becomes engaged in conversation ; the Kev. J.
Sinclair, an Episcopal clergyman — a son of the late
Sir John Sinclair, and brother of the celebrated
authoress — of gentlemanly manners, and cultivated
mind ; Leonard Horner, a man of a remarkably fine
intellect, and brother to the late Francis Horner,
who died young, but not till he had attained great
eminence ; and Professor Pillans, a most agreeable
and interesting person, from whom I received great
kindness. After we had despatched George Thomp-
son and the slavery question, (and I still found my-
self among reasonable people,) Dr. Alison and some
other of the gentlemen made particular inquiries
in respect to our colleges, and especially in regard
to the manner of conferring degrees ; and I shrewdly
suspected that, if they had spoken out all that was
in their minds, they would have adverted to the
fact, that we were too disinterested to keep all our
honours at home. There was quite a vigorous dis-
cussion at the breakfast-table on the subject of
quack medicines, as they exist in the United States,
and particularly of Morrison's pills ; and Mr. Horner
DR. ALISON. 281
expressed the opinion, that there should be a direct
interference of the Legislature in reference to it,
while Dr. Alison doubted its practicability. Sir
William Hamilton had many inquiries to make con-
cerning Professor Stuart, with whose character and
writings he seemed to be well acquainted ; and ex-
pressed the opinion, that the system of doctrine which
he had put forth in his Commentaries was certainly
not more than a modified form of Calvinism. I in-
ferred, however, from what he said, that he was by
no means wanting in respect for Professor Stuart's
talents and attainments.
The Alison family, like the family of Dr. Aber-
crombie, was apparently a perfect specimen of taste,
and dignity, and refinement. They had many curi-
osities to exhibit, and, among them, one or two very
curious letters of Kobert Burns, addressed to their
father, the Kev. Mr. Alison. I think of them most
.
gratefully as they were ; but if I should return to
Edinburgh now, I should find that sad changes had
come over them.
XL
T HAD a letter of introduction to Lord JEFFREY,
from Mrs. Opie, and I found that I could not
have visited him under better auspices. I had heard,
upon what I supposed was good authority, that he
had no great partiality for Americans, and was some-
times even lacking in courtesy towards them ; and
hence I should not have been disappointed, if, even
with Mrs. Opie's letter, I had not realized the most
cordial reception. However, I could scarcely have
been received by anybody with greater kindness.
He met me with such a free and whole-souled air,
that I almost felt as if he might have mistaken me
for some person whom he had seen before. This,
however, was not the case ; and I could only ac-
LOKD JEFFREY. 283
count for his very gracious manner by supposing
that his regard for Mrs. Opie had predisposed him
to be kind towards anybody whom she might intro-
duce to him.
Jeffrey was a small man, of an uncommonly lively
expression of countenance, and extremely rapid in his
movements, and fluent in his conversation. He was, at
that time, I understood/a little turned of sixty, but he
might easily have been mistaken for a much younger
man. I was exceedingly struck with his graceful
and admirable speaking of English — it was so per-
fect, so entirely free from any distinctive accent, that
I could not even have guessed where he had been
born or educated ; though he was really a native
of Scotland, and received his education at one of
the English Universities.
I was scarcely seated with him before we were talk-
ing about slavery, a subject which, by that time, had
become absolutely loathsome to me, having had to
discuss, or rather to expound it, morning, noon, and
night, for several weeks. However, I had no fault to
find with Lord Jeffrey in relation to it, as his views
were most enlightened and liberal. He referred to
an article which had then recently appeared in the
Edinburgh Keview, which he thought was very sound
and sober. He expressed the confident conviction
that the blacks are inferior to the whites in original
powers ; and he said he had come to that conclusion
from the fact, that under every variety of circum-
stances in which they had been placed, both in an-
284 LORD JEFFREY.
cient and modern times, their inferiority had been
apparent.
I accepted an invitation to dine with Lord Jeffrey,
and had the pleasure of meeting at dinner several
very interesting persons, among whom was Lord
Moncrieff, son of the late Sir Harry Moncrieff Well-
wood, who was for a long time one of the most dis-
tinguished clergymen of Edinburgh. He was a most
gentlemanly man, of a fine, open countenance, and
very entertaining in conversation. Mrs. Jeffrey, with
whom I now became acquainted, was an American
lady — Miss Wilkes, of New York — and seemed a very
plain, sensible, benevolent woman. As Mrs. Opie
and her Quakerism happened to be spoken of in the
course of the conversation, the Quaker language,
and especially the frequent use of thee as the nom-
inative instead of thou, became the topic for a few
moments. Lord Jeffrey accounted for it on the same
principle that he accounted^ for the fact that chil-
dren are so much inclined to put me for I — that is,
that the personal pronoun is so much more frequently
used in government than in any other way. He
expressed a very high opinion of the character and
talents of Chancellor Kent, and a very low opinion
of the wisdom that had ordained that the chancel-
lors and judges in the State of New York should
leave their office at the age of sixty ; and he added
that it was not uncommon there for judges to be
appointed after that age. At the dinner-table, whis-
key was not only used as a drink after the common
SIB DAVID BREWSTER. 285
mode, but discussed as a topic ; and the opinion
was expressed that the use of it was increasing
rather than diminishing in Scotland. Jeffrey spoke
of the horrors of the whiskey-houses in London ;
and mentioned that they had pretty little glasses,
on a counter just high enough for young children
to reach, and everything necessary to attract the
little creatures into these haunts of moral death.
I confess my temperance principles got to work
pretty vigorously, and I could not but query with
myself, even in the presence of the whiskey-bottle,
whether it might not be a good service rendered
to humanity, to discard altogether the use of what
was evidently producing so much misery.
I was introduced to Sir DAVID BREWSTEB, well
known as one of the most scientific men of the
age-, by Dr. Lee, at the breaking up of the meeting
of the Koyal Society. The residence of Sir David
was in the Highlands, and I understood that it was
a rare thing that he visited Edinburgh ; but, for-
tunately for me, he happened to be there at that
time. He was of about the middle height, but a
little inclined to be stout, and had a face in which
benignity and intelligence were delightfully blended.
His manners were as simple as childhood itself,
while yet they had all the grace and polish that
one looks for in the most refined society. We had
just been listening to the paper (referred to in a
former number) on the siege of Syracuse ; and almost
286 SIK DAVID BKEWSTEE.
the first thing that Sir David said to me was, that
he hoped I understood Greek better than he did ;
for if I did not, he was sure that I must have found
the paper very unedifying.
I had the pleasure of meeting Sir David several
times after this, and, at each successive interview,
I became more deeply impressed by his admirable
qualities. I was gratified to find, what I had not
known before, that he possessed a very decided
Christian character — indeed, he was a licentiate in
the Church of Scotland, and had formerly exercised
his functions as a preacher ; but for twenty years
had been so excessively nervous, that he not only
could not preach, but could not read one of his
own papers before the Royal Society. He had been
reading, not long before, some of the writings of
Jacob Abbott ; and he inquired with great interest
concerning him, and did not hesitate to say that he
knew not a more attractive writer. He inquired
whether there was any poetry in the account which
he had given of the revival in Amherst College ;
and when I told him that I supposed not, he said
it was indeed a most remarkable work, and asked
if such scenes as he had described were common
in America ; and his inquiries were evidently dic-
tated, not merely by a spirit of curiosity, but by
a deep religious interest in the subject. I met him
one morning at breakfast with several other gen-
tlemen, when the conversation turned upon the
choice of a new Professor of Logic in the Univer-
SIB DAVID BKEWSTEE. 287
sity of Edinburgh ; and one of the gentlemen pre-
sent alluded to the fact that there had been some
attempts made to secure the election of the author
of the History of Natural Enthusiasm, and several
other works, the authorship of which had not then
been avowed. All, however, agreed that this was
preposterous, as the writer had evidently been much
secluded from society, and would, on that account,
be quite unfit for the place. Sir David suggested
that it might turn out, if they were to choose him
in the dark, that they had chosen a woman ; and
he thought the best way would be to strip off his
mask, and let him run awhile in broad daylight
before they should take any decisive measures to-
wards the appointment. When it was suggested
that the author of the mysterious publications was
the brother of the Misses Taylor, who had written
so much and so well, Sir David said that he pre-
sumed then that the books were written by his sis-
ters, so that he was not so much out of the way in
what he had said about .the woman. He, however,
maintained that the books, whoever might have writ-
ten them, were far from sustaining any claim on the
part of the author to the Logic chair ; for he said
they were to him almost unintelligible — he had
honestly tried to read them, and to find out the
author's meaning, but had absolutely given up in
despair. There was a difference of opinion as to
the real author of the works, some having heard
them attributed to John Foster, and others to An-
288 PROFESSOR WILSON.
drew Eeed ; but the more common opinion was that
they were the productions of Isaac Taylor. Sir David
spoke most respectfully of Professor Silliman, whom
I think he had never seen but once, though he knew
him by correspondence, and regarded his Journal of
Science as decidedly one of the ablest scientific pub-
lications of the day. Sir David Brewster married
the daughter of the celebrated Macpherson, who com-
piled, edited, or, for aught I know, composed, the
poems of Ossian.
I had the pleasure of passing an evening with
Professor WILSON, and as I was introduced by Mrs.
Grant, for whom he had the highest veneration, I
could not have asked for a more hearty welcome than
I received from him. He was then in his full vigour,
though he happened that evening to be labouring
under some slight indisposition — perhaps the head-
ache. He was somewhat above the middle stature,
had a strongly-marked face, and talked on every
subject that came up with rapidity and point. He
treated the ultra anti-slavery men with very little
ceremony, and condemned unsparingly the rash meas-
ures they were trying to carry. He seemed familiar
with the prominent literary men in this country,
and had a definite and well-matured opinion in re-
spect to many of them. Washington Irving he
considered as quite a model of good taste. Cooper,
he said, had far more genius than taste, and he
dashed along, mixing up the good and the bad to-
PROFESSOR WILSON. 289
gether, at a strange rate. He seemed a remarkably
whole-souled, genial sort of a man, though if I had
been set to guess what was his professorship, it is
doubtful whether I should have hit upon moral phi-
losophy.
I cannot, in justice to my own feelings, close my
reminiscences of the great and good people whom I
saw at Edinburgh, without mentioning the name of
Dr. THOMAS MURRAY, whose guest I had the honour
to be, and to whose extensive knowledge, large ac-
quaintance, and obliging attentions, I was indebted
in no small degree for the pleasure of my visit. He
had been for many years an eminent teacher, and
was the author of several small, but very interesting
works. He had in his possession the papers of the
celebrated Dr. Murray, author of the " History of the
European Languages ;" and he actually gave me a
copy of that great work in the author's hand-writing,
which is now in the library of Harvard College.
13
XLI.
A S I had not only long been familiar with Dr.
•** DICK'S works, but had had the pleasure of a
correspondence with him for several years, it was my
purpose to visit him from the time that I had de-
termined to go to Scotland, Accordingly, I went
from Edinburgh to Dundee by coach, and was there
met by Dr. Dick's son-in-law, who had come, by
request of the Doctor, to take me to Broughty Ferry,
distant about four miles.
Broughty Ferry is a small village, of very mean
appearance, and I should suppose that its chief at-
traction lay in the fact that Dr. Dick resides there
His dwelling, however, was not immediately in th
village, but about a quarter of a mile in the rear
of it, on a beautiful eminence, which overlooked Dun-
dee and a large tract of the adjacent country. As
we came within sight of the house, Mr. M., his son-
in-law, told me that the Doctor was upon the look-
out for us, and he knew that we were on the way,
for he perceived that his window was thrown up ;
and as we approached the .gate, he came runnin
J
DE. DICK. 291
out with, the activity of a boy, and gave me one
of the most affectionate greetings I ever had from
anybody. He immediately introduced me to Mrs.
Dick, and she scarcely fell behind her husband in
demonstrations of good will. She was the daughter
of a celebrated clergyman, Dr. Young, of Hawick.
She had been married to Dr. Dick but five or six
years, but had before been married to a Mr. David-
son, a famous lecturer on Chemistry, who, in eon-
sequence of an explosion that took place in connec-
tion with some chemical experiment, while he was
lecturing in Ireland, was regarded as an astrologer,
and had measured out to him by the ignorance and
superstition of the poor Irish, a pretty severe retri-
bution. Mrs. Dick herself was muck engaged in
philosophical pursuits, and in her appearance was
not unlike Maria Edgeworth. She Irad, two or three
years before, attempted to lift something which was
an overmatch for her strength, and from that time
had lost the use of one arm altogether.
Doctor Dick's house was a small, neat building,
and the grounds around were laid out and orna-
mented with exquisite taste. I found him in per-
son rather below the middle size, though well pro-
portioned, with a face and manner well becoming a
" Christian Philosopher." He had formerly been a
settled minister in the United Secession Church,
and had very considerable popularity as a preacher.
He was subsequently for, ten years the teacher of
a school at Perth, but from the time he came to
292 DE. DICK.
Broughty Ferry, he had been engaged exclusively
in making books and cultivating his grounds ; though
he occasionally delivered scientific lectures, and now
and then preached for a brother minister in the
neighbourhood. I found his conversation marked by
very much the same characteristics with his books.
Though he seemed to be truly evangelical in his
views, he dwelt more upon the philosophy of re-
ligion, and especially the connexion of religion with
science, than upon those generally admitted truths
which we are accustomed to identify with the life
and power of Christianity. His heart was in Heaven —
I doubt not in more senses than one — his telescope
and observatory witnessed to his love of the visible
heavens, as truly as his Bible and his closet could
have done to the invisible. I know not that he has
ever claimed the honour of any new astronomical
discoveries ; but he certainly deserves the honour of
giving additional attraction to the discoveries of
others, and of rendering them eminently subservient
to the interests of true religion. He seemed to me
to possess, in a very uncommon degree, the spirit of
an enlarged philanthropy. He considered that knowl-
edge is essentially diffusive — that no man or body
of men have a right to appropriate it exclusively ;
but that it is a debt which every one owes to the
common humanity, that he should extend the circle
of useful knowledge as far as he can, taking care, at
the same time, that diffusion is not at the expense
of thoroughness and accuracy.
DE. DICK. 293
Dr. Dick seemed to be quite rich in philosophical
apparatus, and in the morning, after breakfast, he
amused me by taking me upon his observatory, and
setting me to look at various objects through both
the telescope and the microscope. We walked for
awhile over his grounds, and then ascended a hill a
little way off, from which he pointed out to me the
dwelling of Thomas Erskine, the author of the work
on Faith, &c., who was, just at that time, as I un-
derstood, rather a conspicuous follower of Edward
Irving. We also walked into the village, and on
our way went to an ancient tower, now in ruins, the
origin of which lies back beyond all tradition.
Having spent the principal part of the day with
Dr. Dick, I bade him and his family farewell some
time in the afternoon, and took the steamboat for
Edinburgh, where I arrived the same evening. It
was an exceedingly interesting day to me, and, after
the lapse of nearly nineteen years, I can bring the
venerable man and his household before me almost
as vividly as ever.
It has been a matter of great regret with Dr.
Dick's friends, that after he has contributed so
largely to the benefit of his generation, and of pos-
terity, he should be subjected, in his old age, to pe-
cuniary straits and embarrassments. It is not so
much philanthropy as simple justice, that should be
appealed to for his relief ; and if I am correctly in-
formed, such an appeal has already been made, and
not without some success. I regretted to notice
294 DR. DICK.
an application lately made to the government in his
behalf, for a pension, had failed.
Some three or four years ago, a paragraph went
the rounds of our papers, stating that Dr. Dick had
closed his mortal career. I owed him a letter at that
time, which, of course, I never expected to be able
to pay. Indeed, I should have written a letter of
condolence to his widow, but that the wife whom
I saw was dead, and he had subsequently married
another. I had thought of him only as prosecuting
his noble researches in brighter worlds, when, after
many months, I was assured by a friend that Dr. Dick
was still living, and in the enjoyment of his usual
health. I wrote immediately to inquire if he was
really extant, and he answered me at once by a long
and agreeable letter, assuring me that he was still
a dweller upon the earth, and that his mission did
not yet seem to be quite accomplished. He must be
a little more than eighty ; but his handwriting be-
trays nothing of the tremulousness of old age.
XLII.
A S it was part of my plan to visit the North of
•^ England, I had taken a letter of introduction to
SOUTHEY, from one of his intimate friends in Lon-
don, and in due time I was fortunate enough to
reach the place of his residence, and find him at
home. Indeed, I had taken the precaution to write
to him, while I was in Edinburgh, to ascertain
whether he would be at home at the time when it
would be most convenient to me to visit Keswick ;
and had received an affirmative answer, together with
a very kind wish expressed that I would fulfil my
purpose.
Accordingly, having passed the Sabbath in Dur-
ham, I went to Penrith by coach on Monday, and
the next morning, by private conveyance, to Keswick,
distant eighteen miles. The morning was beautiful,
the country romantic, and everything in connexion
with the ride as I could have wished, except an
exceedingly stupid boy, who was sent to be my driver
296 ROBERT SOUTHEY.
and guide, and who had scarcely taken a degree in
talking beyond monosyllables. We reached Keswick
at half-past nine — a small, ugly town, beautifully
situated among the hills, with a charming lake lying
directly before it. Having been directed to Southey's
residence, which was a few minutes' walk out of the
village, I set out to make my way thither ; and on
inquiring of some person more particularly which was
his dwelling, I was told that that was Mr. Southey
then passing into a shop just before me. I instantly
followed him, and introduced myself by, referring to
his letter, which had reached me at Edinburgh ;
and he received me with great simplicity and kind-
ness, and immediately took me home with him. His
house stood on ground considerably elevated, was
surrounded with trees and shrubbery, and the situa-
tion, on the whole, was quite enchanting. As we
came up to the door, he pointed to a beautiful
grass-plat on the right, which he said he called his
" quarter deck." The man himself, who was the
great object of interest with me, was rather above
the middle stature ; slender and graceful in his form ;
of dark complexion, and dark eyes ; with his hair
almost bushy, and pretty far advanced towards gray ;
with a countenance generally sedate, but easily lighted
up with a smile ; and reminding me a good deal,
in his general appearance, of my friend Mr. Finley
Morse, the inventor of the telegraph, though he was
considerably above Mr. Morse's stature.
I found him exceedingly communicative, and he
KOBEKT SOUTHEY. 297
volunteered to give me a good deal of Ms personal
history, parts of which I took care to preserve. He
informed me that he was a native of Bristol, and
that his father was a linen-draper there ; that it was
his early intention to have spent his days in Por-
tugal, where his uncle was chaplain to the British
factory ; that he had actually, at different times,
spent nearly two years there, but that he was dis-
couraged from carrying out his original purpose to
reside there permanently, by the political state of
things at that period. At the time I saw him he
was sixty-two years old, and had occupied the spot
where he then resided thirty-three years. It was for-
merly Wordsworth's residence, and he was attracted
thither by coming to make Wordsworth a visit. He
once had the ophthalmia for a short time, but he
soon recovered from it, and at the age of sixty-two
he could see to read the smallest print, and write
the smallest hand, without spectacles. He remarked
that time had dealt very gently with him ; and, as
an evidence of it, stated that he could, with great
ease, walk from twenty to thirty miles a day ; and
that whenever he made one of his pedestrian excur-
sions alone, he always had his book in hand, and
could easily walk at the rate of three miles an hour,
and read without interruption. No longer ago than
the week before, he said that he had scrambled all
over the adjacent mountain. When I spoke of the
great degree of seclusion incident to the place, he
said it was fortunate for him that there was so little
13*
298 ROBERT SOUTHEY.
good society around him, as it left him with so much
the more time to devote to his books.
He gave me a most touching account of his do-
mestic afflictions. He had had eight children, of
whom only four then survived. His eldest son, who
died at the age of ten, was a youth of remarkable
promise, and he said that if it had pleased God to
spare him, he would have taken his place in all
respects ; that he was almost idolatrously devoted to
his books, and the last thing he did, so long as he
could sit up in his bed, was to call for his Homer.
Of his surviving children, one was preparing for Ox-
ford ; and of the remaining three, who were daugh-
ters, one was married to a clergyman of great worth,
and the other two were young ladies of fine accom-
plishments, whose acquaintance I had the pleasure
to make. His wife, for the two years preceding,
had been deranged ; and though for some time he
had confident hopes of her recovery, he had then
relinquished all hope. He supposed that the malady
might possibly have been averted if he had known
the danger in season, though she passed very sud-
denly from extreme depression to absolute madness.
The first evening after her return from the Insane
Retreat at York, she sat down between her daugh-
ters, and related to them, with perfect correctness,
everything that had occurred to her during her ab-
sence ; and they all thought her quite well ; but it
was only a gleam of reason owing to the excitement
produced by her coming home. Her derangement
EGBERT SOUTHEY. 299
immediately returned, and had continued without any
decided abatement or interruption ; though she was,
for the most part, quiet, and always chose to re-
main in the same place. Towards evening every day
she had a short interval that approached somewhat
to the lucid, but never for a moment had the full
possession of her faculties. He spoke of the afflic-
tion as sometimes bringing a dreadful burden upon
his spirits, but he recognized the hand of Provi-
dence apparently with devout and quiet submission.
He had a good deal to say about distinguished
characters on both sides of the water ; and he re-
naarked that he almost thought he knew more people
in Boston than in any town in England. The first
whom he saw was Professor Everett, whom he re-
membered as a very striking man, some twenty years
before. Since that, he had seen Dr. Channing, whom,
from some remarks he made to him, he judged to
be an Arian in his theological views ; Professor Pal-
frey, who, he said, was very near being drowned in
coming to him in the coach ; Mrs. Brooks, of Boston,
whose poetry (Bride of Sevens) he considered a work
of great power, and destined to emerge from its
present comparative obscurity ; Dr. Dewey, some of
whose sermons he thought very beautiful ; Professor
Ticknor, Mr. Cogswell, &c. He had never seen Buck-
minster, but he expressed the greatest admiration
for his sermons, and seemed to wonder that it was
so long before there was a British edition of them.
Of Mrs. Grant of Laggan, whose acquaintance he
300 EGBERT SOUTHEY.
thought I was very fortunate in having made, he
spoke in terms of no measured respect, and remarked
that her book, containing her early recollections of
Albany, was one of the most exquisite things he
had ever read, depicting a state of society in the
highest degree interesting. Campbell, the poet, he
had never seen but once ; but he considered him
an unhappy man — not so much an unbeliever as a
miso-Christian. Tom Moore he had also seen but
once ; and he said that, so far as he knew his char-
acter, he was amiable and harmless in his domestic
relations, notwithstanding all that he had written
that might lead one to suppose the contrary; that
he (Moore) boasted not long before at some public
meeting, that he had now reached such an age that
he felt at perfect liberty to speak out his mind on
any subject ; " but," said Southey, " when he was
a young man, he wrote as licentiously as he pleased ;
in middle life he wrote as libellously as he pleased ;
and in the decline of life he has written as treason-
ably as he pleased ; and I do not see what he wants
more." Rogers and Bowles, the two oldest of the
British poets, he considered as being very amiable
and excellent characters. Scotland, he thought, had
then lately lost her most striking man in Hogg (the
Ettrick Shepherd) ; and when I mentioned that I had
heard that Hogg aped Burns in some of his most
prominent characteristics, he said that he could
scarcely think it possible ; that he once spent three
days with him, (the only time he ever saw him,) and
ROBERT SOUTH EY. 301
he thought him then quite free from affectation.
He showed me a volume containing the original
letters of Cowper, the poet, to John Newton, and
"directed my attention particularly to the fact that
there was a great change in his handwriting after
he was overtaken by his mental malady ; that, whereas
before, his hand was very free, he afterwards evi-
dently wrote literatim — taking his pen up at every
letter. He spoke of John Wesley with great inter-
est, and remembered, when he was a child, to have
seen him twice — once as he was coining down a flight
of stairs with his mother, Wesley met him, and laid
his hands upon his head.
In our conversation about Buckminster, I adverted
to the singular impression which his father is said
to have had in respect to his death ; and I immedi-
ately found that Southey was no unbeliever in pre-
ternatural impressions and appearances. He told
me the following story, and quoted Mrs. Hannah
More as his authority : — A person connected with
the cathedral at Bristol, by the name of Love, and
who was just on the eve of being married, dreamed
that, in looking over the register of deaths in the
cathedral, he saw his own name at the bottom of
the list. He was somewhat alarmed by it, and his
mother still more. Shortly after, he dreamed that
in a corner of the cathedral, near the cloister, he
saw a monument with his own name upon it. A
few nights after, as he was returning from a visit
to the young lady to whom he was engaged, he came
302 ROBERT SOUTHEY.
into the house, pale, and almost breathless ; and,
upon being asked what was the matter, he replied
that on his way home he had witnessed a very strange
spectacle — several men bearing a coffin, covered with
red morocco and brass nails ; and what chiefly alarmed
him was, that they had brought it into that house !
They immediately sent out to inquire if any person
living in that street had just died, and they found
that none had. They then sent to every undertaker
to inquire whether any of them had furnished a coffin
that night, and it was ascertained that none had
been furnished. Shortly after the poor fellow be-
came suddenly ill, and after a few days died. They
had great difficulty, for some time, in finding a place
in the cathedral where he could be buried ; but they
found, at length, one vacant place, and it proved to
be in the very corner where, in his dream, he had
seen his monument. And when the coffin came, it
turned out that the undertaker, an eccentric man,
without having received any such directions, and
merely from a wish to testify his respect for the
family, had had the coffin covered with red morocco
and brass nails. Southey assured me that he had
not the least doubt of these facts, and that the
monument of the young man was still to be seen
in the cathedral. I understood him that the event
had occurred just about forty years before. As an-
other illustration of his being somewhat open to
the wonderful, I may mention that he read me a
letter from a friend, containing a remarkable story
ROBERT SOU THEY. 303
that was told by a fortune-teller to John Cowper,
brother of the poet, in which his whole future life
was laid open to him while he was yet very young.
Southey informed me that he had long since given
up being a poet, and that he had scarcely written
ten lines of poetry during the preceding ten years ;
that he had three works before him which he wished
much to accomplish — namely, a History of Portugal,
at least two-thirds of which he had already written ;
a History of the Monastic Orders ; and a History of
English Literature, from the period at which Wharton
left the History of Poetry. His idea of the History
of the Monastic Orders was conceived from having
lived in Portugal, and witnessed the blasting in-
fluence of the Koman Catholic religion. He said
that he had been urged to write the history of the
period of our Kevolution, and that the idea was
suggested in consequence of his having endeavoured
to procure access for Mr. Sparks to the papers per-
taining to that period in the public offices at Lon-
don ; but that he had already so many things in
hand that he could not even consider the proposal.
He spoke in terms of strong reprobation of what
he called the fanaticism of the anti-slavery party
in Great Britain, and remarked that there was a
species of slavery existing among themselves, incom-
parably worse than negro slavery, over which their
pseudo-philanthropists were content to slumber —
namely, the condition of the children in cotton fac-
tories ; not less than two hundred and forty thou-
304 ROBEKT SOUTHET.
sand being thus employed in a way that was cha-
racterized by the grossest cruelty. He read me part
of a work in the form of a dialogue, which he had
written on the subject. He said that he had no
hesitation in saying that a West India plantation,
compared with one of these cotton factories, was a
garden of Eden ; as he dwelt upon the subject I
observed that his eyes filled with tears. He spoke
of having just read Stone's work on Free Masonry,
which he said was certainly an extraordinary pro-
duction. Free Masonry, he thought, made no noise
in Great Britain, though there was plenty of it on
the Continent ; and he remembered to have met
some Prussian officers at Aix-la-Chapelle, who almost
wrung his hands off, to find out whether he was
a Mason.
Southey had a splendid library, consisting of some-
what more than ten thousand volumes, a large por-
tion of which were in the different Continental lan-
guages. He said he could read the several lan-
guages in which they were written with perfect ease,
but could never speak them, except in his dreams ;
and then he often spoke them fluently. After hav-
ing shown me his library, and every thing about his
place that he thought would interest me, he pro-
posed that we should take a ramble ; and he ac-
cordingly took me down to the lake (Darwin), and
showed me the spot where he projected the most
celebrated of his poems ; then we ascended a beauti-
ful hill in the rear of the town, which commanded
EGBERT SOUTHEY. 305
a fine view of the whole surrounding country. Most
of the time during this walk he was talking about
his " dear boy," whom he had lost ; and, though
some years had elapsed from the time of the be-
reavement, I could see the heart of the father still
rising in half-suppressed sobs, and sometimes over-
flowing in tears. I remained with him during nearly
the whole day, leaving myself only time- enough to
return to Penrith before I slept. If I had been left
to form my judgment of him merely from my own
observation, I should still have pronounced him an
exalted specimen of both genius and sensibility.
THE END,
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY
BERKELEY
Return to desk from which borrowed
Thisbook is DUE on the last date stamped below.
JUN8
«
MAY 0 9 19
km DISC MAY u > '31
1
LD 21-100m-7,'52(A2528sl6)476
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY
r v
•«5?
;*,
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11