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BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONAM

EMINENT SCOTSMEN.

EDITED BY

KOBEET CHAMBEES,

ONE OT THE EDUORS OF ' CIIAMBEBS'S EDINBUUQII JOUHNAL.

NEW EDITION, REVISED AND CONTINUED TO THE PRESENT TIME.

WITH NUMEROUS POBTBAITS.

DIVISION VI.
LESLEY— RAMSAY.

BLACKIE AND SON:

GLASGOW, EDINBURGH, AND LONDON.

MDCCCLIV.

GLASGOW :

W. G. BLACKXE AND CO., PRINTEES,

VILLAKIELD.

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GEORGE LESLEY. 409

discover that certain bulls prohibited the reception of newly converted heretics,
The ingenuity of his friend, Ange, attempted to relieve him from this dilemma.
It was represented tliat there was a rational distinction betwixt heretics in a
catholic country, and the children of Huguenots, who had no means of knowing
the true faith. The distinction, however, was not satisfactory to the general of
the order, and Lesley formed the bold design of bursting into the papal pre-
sence, and enforcing his request. When the youth lifted up his adoring eyes,
to look at the countenance of the vicegerent of God, the whole chamber beamed
with a dazzling light, more luminous than the sun, the brighter rays of light be-
ing there accumulated to form a tiara for tlie majesty of the sacred head. A
phenomenon which we are confidentially assured by the biographer, always at.
tends the pontifical presence, although it is not often visible to the naked eye.
IJy the intervention of the pope, he was received into the order, and became a
capuchin, and assuming the ecclesiastical name of Archangel, he preached with
edification. Twenty years had elapsed since his departure from Scotland, when
his mother, hearing that he had disgraced his family by joining a fraternity of
beggars, at first (according to the charitable presumption of the archbishop),
wished to assassinate him, but preferred the more humane alternative of sending
her second son, the baron of Torry, to convert him. It would be tedious to tell
how the brothers met, and how the reverse of what was expected took place, by
the baron joining the true faith, and both forming a project for the conversion
of their motlier, and the other inhabitants of Scotland. The baron was the first
to return to Scotland, and accident soon i-evealed the change in his faith ; in
the mean time Lesley was chosen capuchin preacher at the court of Mary of
Medicis, queen regent of France, and on the institution of the college de propa-
ganda fide, by Gregory XV,, he was appointed papal emissary to Scotland, to
procure the restoration of that lost land to the true faith, at the same time ac-
cepting the additional situation of interpreter to the Spanish ambassador in Eng-
land. Lesley, or as his biographer at this period commonly terms him. Arch-
angel, wrote a letter to his mother, which A\ith much discretion he delivered
himself. lie Mas received with considerable cold politeness, and entertained in
the castle ; where, however, he could not eat his dinner in peace from being
compelled to sit beside a heretic clergyman, who pocketed 300 crowns annually
for teaching the doctrines of damnation, to whom, says his author, whenever he
turned his eyes, he thought the banquet assumed the aspect of a funeral meal.
Archangel kept his secret about six days, when a remark which he made con-
nected with a change in the establishment, proved him not to be a stranger, and
he was compelled to make himself known. The rejoicings at this event can
scarcely be described in words. The old lady received thousands of visits of
congratulation, the fame of the event reached even to Aberdeen (about twenty-
five miles), fires of rejoicing were lighted up on the castle of Monyrausk,* and t!ie
inhabitants of the lown^ discharged culverins and let ofl^ sky-rockets. He com-
menced a vigorous discharge of the duties of his mission ; he led the people to
an adjoining mountain, where he had not been preaching half a quarter of an
hour, when the people shuddered, changed colour, and knelt at his feet, — he
converted 4000 to the true faith in eight months. He now naturally turned his
eyes towards the salvation of his mother, to which he was resolved to make his
way through the heretical priest. Tlie reverend gentleman at first declined
any discussion, but he Avas at length compelled to come to issue. He was asked
what was the denomination of his peculiar faith, and with much simplicity an-

* The castle of Monjniusk is a neat old Flemish building, which would make a rather dimi-
vuUive modern mansion.

6 The hamlet of Mon\musk contains about 50 inhabitants,
m. 3F

410 GEORGE LESLEY.

sueieil, it was the church of Geneva. Archangel then asked if the clmrch of
Geneva uas ever mentioned in Scripture ? this was a home thrust to the minister,
who had seen no more in Scripture about the church of Geneva, than about the
stipend of ^lonymusk. Like a prudent man, liovvever, ho promised to produce
what was wanted if he couhl get time; but after repeated dehiys, having failed.
Archangel triumphantly pointed to tlie epistle to the Romans as a proof of the
existence of his church ; the heretic was dismissed for incapability and error,
and his mistress's faith ceded to tlic victor. The conversion of the mother was
followed by that of the other members of the family, and the whole eslablishnient
of the castle. A splendid cliapel was fitted up for the celebration of the rites
of tlie Roman catholic church, and the object of the mission made rapid progress
for two years, at the end of \\hich period, one of king James's edicts against
Roman catholics compelled Archangel to retire to England, and there prosecute
liis mission in secrecy, having been compelled to leave his books and papers as
a prey to the enemy. His mother's goods were confiscated, and she ^\as reduced
to the utmost misery by protestant persecution. In these circumstances her son
resolved to visit her, and dressing himself as an itinerant vender of herbs,
passed through the streets of Blonymusk, vociferating ' Buy my greens ;' he
obtained an intervie\v with his mother, who was reduced to the necessity of being
compelled to purchase some of his commodity, and a scene ensued, which our
limits will not permit us to describe. Being interrupted in his visit by the pro-
testant ' inquisitors,' he was compelled to return to ICngland, whence he was sum-
moned to Italy to attend the head of his order, on the ground of some allegeJ
malversation, the cause of Avhicli is not very lucidly explained. The plague
raged in Italy during his journey, and he for some time occupied himself in atr
tending the sick at Cremona. He was then appointed guardian of the convent
of Mount George in the diocese of lermo. Here he became acquainted with the
archbishop who has so lucidly written his memoirs, and through a mutual miracle
a second mission to Britain was concocted between them. Archangel set out ac-
companied by another Scottish capuchin called Epiphanes ; their vessel was
overtaken by a violent storm, and after a few amiable discussions about tossing
overboard some useless liands, in order to lighten her, she was wrecked, the two
capuchins being miraculously saved, along Avitli some passengers, among whom
were two English gentlemen whom Archangel converted by the following com-
fortable argument : * We hold that you cannot be saved, i/ou admit that we may ;
judge, then, which is the safest religion.' ^ He after this met a young Scots-
man, who gave him the pleasing intelligence, that, notwithstanding the persecu-
tions suflered by the true faith in Scotland, one influential family in the neigh-
bourhood of the large town of 3Ionymusk had been spared, the influence of the
king of France having procured the restoration of their estates, and permission
to exercise their religion. This gentleman turned out to be his younger bro-
ther, Edward, from whom he learned also the sad intelligence, that their mother
had fallen into a fever, and died, from the dread that her son had been
drowned in his voyage. After this, many adventures happened to Archangel,
among which, some too curious remarks made by him on the fortifications
of Newport caused his apprehension as a spy. His zeal not decreasing, he wore
out the patience of the monarch, and becoming again amenable to the laws
against papists, was commanded to quit the kingdom. On his journey soutJiward,
he made many miraculous conversions, and particularly on the persons of noble-
men in the neighbourhood of the city of Torfecan (Torphichen.) While near
the borders of England, his exertions produced a fever, of which he died, and a

G A favourite argument with Roman catholics, to which Jeremy Taylor made a well known
and mianswerable answer.

JOHN LESLIE.— CHARLES LESLIE. 411

Jesuit in the neiglibourliood performed over him the List ofliccs of charity. So
terminate the adventures of Le Capuchin Ecossois, of which we are sorry we are
compelled to omit many choice portions.

LESLIE, John, bishop of Clogher, was born at Balquhviin, in the north of
Scotland, after the middle of the sixteenth century. He was of an ancient and
highly respectable family. The earlier part of his education he received at
Aberdeen, the latter part at Oxford. He afterwards travelled into Spain, Italy,
Germany, and France, and acquired sucli a proficiency in the languages of all
these countries, excepting the last, that he spoke them with the fluency of a na-
tive. In the Latin language he particularly excelled, and Avas so familiar with
it, that it was said of him in Spain, Mhen he resided there. Solus Lesleiun La-
tine loquitur. He rem;i;ned on this occasion twenty-two years abroad, and,
dui-ing that time was present at the siege of Rochelle. He also accompanied the
duke of Buckingham on the expedition to the isle of Rhee.

Leslie stood high in favour with Charles I., and was by that monarch admitted
a member of his privy council. In 1G33 he Avas appointed to the bishopric of
Raphoe, in Ireland, where lie built a handsome palace. This building he after-
wards held out against Cromwell, adopting the loyal alternative of enduring a
siege rather than submit to the usurper.

On the death of his royal patron he went abroad, ivhere he remained till after
the restoration. He then returned to England, and in 1G61 was translated to the
see of Clogher. Here he remained till liis death, which took place in 1671, when
he was upwards of one hundred years of age. He was then the oldest bishop in
the world, having filled that dignified station for fifty years.

Leslie, Charles, a celebrated non-juring divine, was the second son of the
bishop of Clogher. He Avas born in the year 1650. He commenced his edu-
cation at Inniskillen, Ireland, and Avas admitted a felloAV-commoner in Trinity
college, Dublin, in 1661.. Here he continued till he commenced master of arts,
and during this period acted as tutor to Jlr JVIichael Ward, afterwards bishop of
Derry. After the death of his fathei-, in 1671, he came over to England, and
entered himself in the temple at London, and for some years studied the Liav.
Finding this an uncongenial pursuit he relinquished it, and applied to divinity.
In 1680 he was admitted into holy oi'ders, and in 16 87 became chancellor of
the cathedral church of Connor, and also acted as a justice of the peace. Soon
after his appointment he distinguished himself in a public religious controversy,
Avith Patrick Tyrrel, a Roman catholic, Avho had been appointed to the see of
Clogher. The disputation Avas numerously attended by persons of the persua-
sions of both the champions, and each assigned the victory to the defender of his
own faith ; but it is beyond doubt, that Leslie had greatly the advantage of his
antagonist. He afterwards held another public disputation Avith two eminent
popish divines in the church of Tynan, diocese of Armagh. The controversy
Avas maintained in the presence of a large assembly, composed, as in the
former case, of persons of both religions ; and here again the talents of Leslie
brought him off triumphantly. He Avas now become exceedingly popular in the
country for his theological acquirements, and a circumstance soon afterwards oc-
curred Avhich pi-ocured him equal celebrity for his political knoAvledge, and for
his intrepidity of character. A Roman catholic high sheriff having been ap-
pointed for the county of Monaghan, the gentlemen of the county, in great alarm
at this indication of catholic ascendency, hastened to Avait upon him for his ad-
vice, as to hoAV they should act Avith regard to the newly appointed officer, Avhose
religion disqualified him, by law, for the situation. Mr Leslie told them, that it
Avould be equally illegal in them to permit the sherifl' to act, and in him to at-
tempt it ; that though appointed by the authority of the crown, he, being of

412 CHARLES LESLIE.

the Roman catholic persnasioii, could not have taken the oaths necessary to
qualify hiiu for the oflice, and that therefore his nomination was illegal. This
doctrine he afterwards held at the fjiiarler sessions, where the case came to be
decided, and so efleotually did he urge iiis ohjections, and that in the presence
of the sherid' iiiniself, tliat the bench unanimously agreed to commit tlie pretend-
ed orticer for his intrusion. IVIr Leslie thus placed himself in conspicuous op-
position to the dominant party, and openly declared that ho no longer consid-
ered James as the defender of tiie faith.

Notwithstanding, however, of his hostility to the papists, he continued a staunch
supporter of the exiled family at tiie revolution in i(J88, and refused to take the
oatlis to king William and queen 31ary, Tiie consequence of this fidelity was
tiie loss of all his preferments.

When Ireland became disturbed in 1689, 31r Leslie removed with liis family
to England, where he employed himself in writing political pamphlets to servo
the cause which he had embraced ; but, though opposed to the existing govern-
ment he continued a zealous and active supporter of the church of Kngland.
About this time he entered into a controversy with the quakers, which is said to
have arisen from the circumstance of his lodging with a family of that persua-
sion. This family he converted. The first of the several treatises which he
wrote against the quakers is entitled, " Tlie Snake in the Grass." It appeared
in 1696, and soon ran into a second edition. It was answered by George
Whithead in a pamphlet entitled, " An Antidote to the Snake in the Grass."
In his second edition Mr Leslie noticed this answer ; but he was again assailed
in a production called, " Satan dissolved from his Disguises of Light," whidi
also appeared in 1G9G. To this, and several otiier attacks, Mr Leslie replie<i
at great length in *' A Defence of a book entitled the Snake in the Grass.''
This again provoked a host of answers, amongst which was one by the quakers,
entitled " A Switch for the Snake." To this 3Ir Leslie again replied in " A
Second Defence, or the third and last part of the Snake in the Grass."

The most celebrated works of IMr IjOsHo, though these just enumerated dis-
covered singular ability, were those which he wrote against the deists. The first
of these was published, in 1G97, in a letter to a friend, and was entitled " A
Short and easy IMethod with the Deists," The friend alluded to in the title
was a ladi/, though the work bears that it was a gentleman. Having been
thrown accidentally into the company of infidels, she applied to Mr Leslie for
" some short topic of reason, without running to authorities and the intricate
mazes of learning.'' The treatise was eflectual, and Mr Leslie, although it was
not his original intention, was prevailed upon to publish it. This work he en-
larged considerably in a second edition. No answer appeared to the Short and
Easy Method till 1710, when it was replied to in a treatise entitled " A detec-
tion of the true meaning and wicked designs of a book entitled," &c. Mr
Leslie replied to this attack in " The Truth of Christianity Demonstrated," to
which was prefixed, '' A Vindication of the Short Method with the Deists.'' These
works against deism produced a powerful effect, and amongst others the conver-
sion of a person of the name of Gildon, who had acquired considerable celebrity
as a member of that persuasion. This man not only professed himself convinced
of his errors, and publicly retracted them, but wrote a book against the opinions
which he had formerly entertained, entitled " The Deist's Manual, or a rational
Inquiry into the Christian Religion."

Encouraged by the success of his attack on deism, Mr Leslie, in 1G99, pro-
duced his " Short 3Iethod with the Jews," a work which was first suggested by a
similar circumstance \vith that which had given rise to his Short 3Iethod w ith the
Deists. An eminent Jew had been converted by his reasoning, and had inti-

JOHN LESLIE. 413

mated his intention of publicly owning his conviction. The convert, however,
died during Mr Leslie's absence, without exhibiting the recantation uhich he had
proposed.

The next controversy in which Mr Leslie was engaged, was with the Socini-
ans. It began in 1694. In 1097 he published the first of the six dialogues,
entitled " The Socinian Contx'oversy Discussed.'' This was answered in a sl'.ort
tract, entitled " Remarks on Mr Charles Leslie's First Dialogue on the Socinian
Controversy." IMr Leslie replied, and was again answered by his opponent in
*' A Vindication of the Remarks." Mr Leslie now published *' A Reply to the
Vindication,'' and with this ended the first part of the controversy.

His principal works against the papists were, " The True Nature of the Catho-
lic Church, in answer to the Bishop of Meaux's letter to Mr Nelson," printed in
1703; " The Case Stated between the Church of Rome, and the (3hurch of
England, published in 1713 ; and " Of .Private Judgment and Authority]in Mat-
ters of Faith." These uorks are said to have made several converts from
popery.

Although thus earnestly and laboriously employed in the cause of religion,
Mr Leslie did not neglect the interests, so far as any efforts of liis could serve
them, of the exiled family. He wrote several political tracts during this period,
and made several journeys to Bar le Due to visit the Pretender, who was then
residing there. These journeys, however, and his political treatises, especially
one, entitled " The Good Old Cause," published in 1710, gave such offence to
the ruling party, that it is said a warrant for his apprehension was actually issued
against him. However this may be, he found it necessary to quit the kingdom
in 1713, Avhen he proceeded to Bar le Due, and took up his residence by invita-
tion with the Pretender, who procured a room to be fitted up for him in his own
house. While here, Mr Leslie was permitted to ofiiciate in a private chapel af-
ter the manner of the church of England, and it is even said, that the Pretender
had promised to listen to his arguments concerning his religion, and that Mr Leslie
had in vain endeavoured his conversion. This, however, is contradicted by lord
Bolingbroke, who asserts, that he not only refused to listen to Mr Leslie, but
forbade all discussion on religious matters. Notwithstanding of this, however,
and of several other subjects of dissatisfaction with the chevalier, whose conduct
towards him does not appear to have been altogether adjusted to his deserts,
Mr Leslie continued to remain with him, and in 1716 accompanied him into
Italy, after his unsuccessful attempt upon England. Here he remained till 1721 ,
when he found his situation so exceedingly disagreeable, that he determined on
returning to his native country. This he accomplished, but died in the follow-
ing year, on the 13th April, in his own house, at Glaslough, in the county of
Monaghan.

The list of Mr Leslie's works, political and theological, is exceedingly volu-
minous. The theological works in seven volumes Avere printed in 1832 at the
Oxford university press.

LESLIE, John, bishop of Ross, and distinguished for his indefatigable exer.,
tions in behalf of queen Mary, was born in 1526, being the son of Gavin Leslie,
an eminent lawyer, descended from the barons of Balquhain, one of the most
respectable branches of the ancient family of Leslie. He received his education
at the university of Aberdeen, and in 1547 was made canon of the cathedral
church of that diocese. He subsequently pursued his studies in the universities
of Toulouse, Poictiers, and Paris, at which last place he took the degree of doc-
tor of laws. In 1554 he was ordered home by the queen regent, and made of-
ficial and vicar-general of the diocese of Aberdeen. In the turmoil of the Refor-
mation, which soon after commenced, Leslie became a noted champion of the

414 JOHN LESLIE.

Romish faith, and appeared on that side in tlic famous disputation at Edinburgh
in 15G0. When it was resolved to bring over tiie young (juecii from France to
assume the government of Iicr native country, Leshe Mas the cliief deputy sent
to her by the catiiolics to gain her exchisive favour for tliat party ; but though
he liad tlie dexterity to arrive before the protestant deputation, lie was not suc-
cessful. Leslie, however, returned to Scotland in tiie queen's company, and
was appointed by her a privy councillor and one of the senators of the college
of justice. In 15(5 i the abbey of Lindores was conferred upon him, and ho
was soon afier promoted to the bishopric of Koss ; oflices catholic in form, but
which now referred to little more than certain temporalities to which they con-
ferred a title. Leslie was one of the sixteen commissioners appointed in this
reign to revise the Scottish laws, and it was chiefly owing to his care that the
volume of the acts of parliament, usually called the Black Acts, from its being
pi'inted in the old English character, was given to the world in the year 15GG.
The name of the bishop of lloss derives its chief lustre from the steadfastness
and zeal with which he adhered to the fortunes of his royal mistress, after they
had experienced the remarkable reverse which is well known to have befallen
them. When l\Iary had become an almost hopeless captive in England, tliis
amiable prelate, at the hazard of all his temporal enjoyments, continued to ad-
here to her, and to exert himself in her behalf, witli a fidelity which would
have adorned any cause. He was one of her commissioners at the conference
of York in 1568 ; on which occasion he defended her with a strength of reason-
ing, which is allowed to have produced a great impression, though it did not de-
cide the argument in her favour. He afterwards appeared as her ambassador at
the court of Elizabeth, to complain of the injustice done to her ; and if the
English princess had not been a party interested in the detention of his mistress,
his solicitations could have hardly failed of efTect. When he found that entrea-
ties and appeals to justice were of no avail, he contrived means for the escnpe
of the queen, and planned the project for her marriage to the duke of Norfolk,
which ended in the execution of that unfortunate nobleman. Leslie was ex-
amined in refei'ence to this plot, and notwithstanding his privileges as an am-
bassador, which he vainly pleaded, Avas committed prisoner, first to the isle of
Ely, and afterwards to the tower of London. It appears to have been during
this confinement, that he wrote the historical work by which his name is now
cliiefly known. In 1573 he was liberated from prison, but only to be banished
from England. He then employed himself for two 3 ears in soliciting the interfer-
ence of the continental princes in behalf of his mistress, but without obtaining
for her any active assistance. Even Avith the pope, whom he requested to use
his influence with these princes, he met with no better success. AVhile at Eome,
he published his history in Latin, under the title of " De Origine, Moribus, et
Rebus Gestis Scotorum." This appeared in I 578 : next year, having removed to
France, he was made suflragan and vicar-general of the archbishopric of Rouen,
in Normandy, and while visiting the diocese, was apprehended and thrown into
prison, and obliged to pay three thousand pistoles, to prevent his being given
up to Elizabeth. During the remainder of the reign of Henry III., he lived un-
molested ; but on the accession of the protestant Henry IV., Avho was the strict
ally of Elizabeth, he fell again into trouble. In the course of his visitation of the
diocese in 1590, he was once more thrown into prison, and forced to purchase
his freedom at the same expense as before. In 1593 he was made bishop of
Constance, but being now apparently tired of life, Avhich for many years had
presented only disappointments and vexations, he soon after retired into a
monastery at Gurtenburg, about two miles from Brussels, where he spent the re-
mainder of his days in tranquillity. He died. May 31st, 1596, and lies buried

JOHN LESLIE. 415

ill the monastery, under a monument erected to his memory by his nephew and
heir, John Leslie.

Bishop Leshe is generally allowed the praise of great learning and of high
diplomatic abilities, though it is almost as generally regretted, that he did not
turn them to a better use. His fidelity to a declining cause is also allowed,
even by its enemies, to have been a sentiment as free from the dross of worldly
or selfish views as the motives of a line of public conduct ever are. The isola-
tion of a catholic church dignitary in society seems favourable to the develop-
ment of such sentiments ; and there are not many cases in which the principle
is observed to have been more powerful than in the history of this Scottish pre-
late. His tongue, his pen, the travel of his body, his temporal fortune, were all
devoted with the most generous unreserve to the cause which he thought that of
justice and true religion ; and what more can any man do, to show the superior-
ity of his nature to the meaner passions ?

The works of bishop Leslie are as follow : 1. Defence of the honour of
Mary Queen of Scotland ; with a declaration of her right, title, and interest to
the crown of England; Liege, 1571, 8vo, which was inmiediately suppressed.

2. Afflicti Animi Consolationes et Tranquilli Anuni Conservatio ; Paris, 1574.

3. De Origine, Moribus, et Kebus Gestis Scotorum : Romaa, 1578, 4to. 4. A
Treatise showing that the Kegiment of Women is conformable to the law of God
and Nature. 5. De Titulo et Jure Maria? Scotorum Regin*, quo Angliae Suc-
cessionem Jure sibi vindicat ; liheims, 1530, 4to. 6. The History of Scotland,
from the death of James I. in 1436, to the year 1561 ; Edinburgh, 1830, 4to.

The volume last mentioned was printed from a manuscript in the possession
of the earl of Leven and Melville. It is in the Scottish tongue, and forms the
original of the three latter books of the Latin history, which differs from it in
no respect except in being a little more ample. It appears to have been com-
posed in the vernacular tongue, in order that it miglit be of use to his captive
mistress, who, it is to be presumed, was not so good a Latinist as her cousin
Elizabetli. The reason of his presenting her with only this detachment of the
history of her country, was, that the preceding part was already to be had in
Bellenden's version of Boece. That work stops at the death of James I., and it
would naturally occur to bishop Leslie, that a continuation to his own time was
a desideratum, both to the people and to her whom he maintained to be their
sovereign. He finished his work in March, 1570, and presented the unfortunate
queen with the manuscript in 1571 ; but it never saw the light till the date
above mentioned, when one hundred copies were printed for the Bannatyne
Club, with fifty additional for sale to the public. The style of the work, though
it could not fail to sound rudely in the ears of a modern Englishman, is highly
elegant and dignified, forming a wonderful improvement upon the rude sim-
plicity of Bellenden. The worthy bishop informs us, that he stops at the be-
ginning of queen Mary's reign, because the transactions subsequent to that period
contain much that he does not think would reflect honour upon his country :
there could be few whose words were more worth listening to, respecting that
important and greatly controverted part of our histoi-y.

The volume alluded to contains a portrait of Leslie, representing him as a
grave and venerable man, with an aquiline nose, a small beard, and a very
lofty and capacious forehead. As a specimen of the Scottish which a learned
prelate would then write, and a queen peruse, we may quote the bishop's char-
acter of James V.

" Their Avas gi-yt dule and meane maid for him throw all the partis of his
realme, because he was a nobill prince, and travaillet mekill all his day is for
manitening of his subjectis in peace, justice, and quietnes. He was a man of

416 SIR JOHN LESLIE.

pearsonnge and stature convenient, albeit niiclitie and strong llieirwith; of coun-
tenance amiable and hifcly, siiccially in bis communication ; bis eyes grayc and
scbarp of siclit, tbat (juiiomsoever be did ones see and niarke, lie wabl perfytly
knawe in all tymes tiiaircl'tor ; of witt in all tilings fjuick and jirompt, of a
princely stomacke and beicb courage in greit pcrillis, doubtful affairis and mat-
eria of \vei<;btie importance ; be bad in a maner a divine forcsicbt, for in sie
tbingis as be went about to doo, be did tbem advisedlye, and witb grit delib-
cracion, to tbe intent Ibat amangis all men bis nitt and prudence miglit be noted
and rcgaidit, and nlsfarre excell and pas all utbers in cslait and dignitie. Be-
sides tbis, be \vns sober, moderate, bonest, cftHbill, curtcous ; and so farr abbor-
rit pride and arrogance, tbat be was ever sbarpc and quick to tbanie qubilk were
spotted or nottit witb tbat crime. He was alsua a good and suir justiciar, be
tbe cjubilke one tbing be allurit to bim tbe bnrtis of all tbe people, because tbey
lived (jiiiellie and in rest, out of all oppressioun and molestacioun of tbe nobili-
tye and ricbe persones ; and to tbis sevcryte of bis wes joinit and annexit a
certane merciful pitye, qubilk be did oftymcs sbaw to sic as bad oft'endit, taking
ratber composicions of money nor menis lyvis. * * # * Tbis gude and
modest prince did not devoure and consume tbe ricbos of bis countrey, for by
Ins beicb poliicye marvellouslie ricbed bis realnie and bimselfe, botb ^^ilb gold
and silver, all kinds of ricbe substance, qubairof be left greyt sLoir and quanti-
tie in all liis palices at bis departing. And so tbis king, living all his tynie in
tbe favour of fortune, in beicb bonour, ricbcs, and glorye, and for liis nobill
actis and prudent poUyces, wortbye to be registrat in tbe buike of fame, gaif up
and randerit bis spreit into tbe bands of Allmicbty God, qubair I doubt not bot
be bes suir fruition of tbe joye that is preparit for these as sell silt on the ricbt
band of our Salveour."

LKSLIE, (Sir) John, professor of natural philosophy in the university of
Edinburgh, and distinguished by his valuable Avritings and discoveries, was born
at tbe kirk-town of Largo, in Fife, on the IGth of April, 17G6. His father,
Robert Leslie, by profession a joiner and cabinet-maker, and originally from
the neighbourhood of St Andre^\s, was a much respected and worthy man, and
seems, in point of education and general attainments, to liave been superior to
the majority of persons in bis station at that period. The mother of Sir John
Leslie was Anne Carstairs, a native of Largo. When very young, he was sent
to a woman's school in the village, but remained only a short time there. Af-
terwards he was placed under a 3Ir Thomson at Lundin Mill, with whom he
learned to write ; and lastly he went to Leven school, and began to learn
Latin ; but being a weakly boy, and unable to walk so far, be was obliged after
about six weeks to give up attendance. As these were tlie only schools he at-
tended before going to college, it is evident that bis elementary acquirements
must have been exceedingly imperfect. He received, however, while at home,
some lessons in matliematics from his elder brother Alexander, and soon began
to show a surprising aptitude for that branch of science. His manners at this
period of life were remarkably reserved and shy. He seemed bent on devoting
liimself entirely to study, and read with peculiar avidity all tbe books tbat came
within his reach, on mathematics and natural philosopliy. To Latin he took a
strong dislike, and could not be induced to resume the study of it till after bis
first year at college.

His extraordinary proficiency in geometrical exercises, joined to a considera-
tion of tbe unfavourable circumstances under which he had acquired it, brought
him at an early period under the notice of professors Robison and Stewart, of the
university of Edinburgh, who were much impressed by tbe extraordinary powers
which be displayed. It was at length resolved by bis parents, that be should

SIR JOHN LESLIE. 41?

be sent to tlie university of St Andrews, in order to fit himself for a learned
profession, ai»d he was accordingly entered there, as a student of mathematics,
in 1779. At the first distribution of prizes, he attracted some attention by his
proficiency, which was the means of introducing him to the patronage of the earl
of Kinnoul, then chancellor of the university. Being now destined for the
church, he went through the regular routine of instructions for that purpose.
After attending for six sessions at St Andrews, he removed to Edinburgh, in
company with another youth, — destined like himself to obtain a high niche in the
temple of fame, and to be honoured, at the same moment with himself, more
than forty years after, with a royal favour expressive of his equal merit, — James
(afterwards Sir James) Ivory. At St Andrews he had also formed an acquaintance
vvitli Dr William Thomson, the continuator of Watson's Life of Philip II., and
latterly a professed author of no small note in London. At the university of
Edinburgh Mr Leslie studied three years, during which time he was introduced
to Dr Adam Smith, and employed by that eminent man in assisting the studies
of his nephew, afterwards lord Reston. He now gave up his intention of adop-
ting the clerical profession, which he found to be in a great measure incompati-
ble with the strong bent which liis mind liad taken towards physical studies.

In 1788, he went to Virginia, as tutor to two young college friends, Messrs
Randolph ; and after spending moi-e than a year in America, retux-ned to Edin-
burgh. In January 1790, he proceeded to London, carrying with him some
recommendatory letters from Dr Smith ; he has been heard to mention, that
one of the most pressing injunctions with which he was honoured by that illustrious
philosopher, was to be sure, if the person to whom he was to present himself
Avas an author, to read his book before approaching him, so as to be able to
speak of it, if there should be a fit opportunity. His first intention was to de-
liver lectures on natural philosophy ; but being disappointed in his views, he
found it expedient to commence writing for periodical works, as the readiest
means of obtaining subsistence. For obtaining employment of this kind, he was
mainly indebted to his friend Dr William Thomson, who engaged him upon the
notes of a new edition of the Bible, which he was then publishing in numbers.
About three months after his arrival in London, he made an agreement with Mr
Murray, the bookseller, to translate Bufibn's Natural History of Birds, Avhich was
published in 1793, in nine octavo volumes. The sum he received for it laid
the foundation of that pecuniary independence which, unlike many other men of
genius, his prudent habits fortunately enabled him early to attain, Tlie preface
to this work, which ivas published anonymously, is characterised by all the
peculiarities of his later style ; but it also bespeaks a mind of great native
vigour and lofty conceptions, strongly touched with admiration for the sublime
and the grand in nature and science. During the progress of the translation,
he fulfilled an engagement with the Messrs Wedgewood of Etruria in Staftbrd-
shire, to supei'intend their studies; he left them in 1792. In 1794, Mr Leslie
spent a short time in Holland ; and, in 1796, he made the tour of Germany and
Switzerland with Mr Thomas Wedgewood, whose early death he ever lamented
as a loss to science and his country. About this period, he stood candidate
for a chair at St Andrews, and subsequently, for that of natural philosophy in
Glasgow, but without success. The fortunate candidate on the latter occasion
was Dr James Brown of St Andrews, with Avhom Mr Leslie to the end of his life
maintained a constant intimacy. In 1799, he travelled through Norway and
Sweden, in company with Mr Robert Gordon, whose friendship he had acquired
at St Andrews college.

At what period Mr Leslie first struck into that brilliant field of inquiry where
lie became so conspicuous for his masterly experiments and striking discoveries

418 SIR JOHN LESLIE.

regarding radiant heat, and the connexion between light and heat, we are un-
able to say. But his Dillereulial Tiienuonictcr — one of the most beautiful and
delicate instmnients that inductive genius ever contrived as a help to experimen-
tal inquiry, and which rewarded its author by its happy ministry to the success
of some of his (incst experiments — must have been invented before the year
1800, as it was described in Nicholson's I'liilosophical Journal some time dur
ing that year. Tlie results of those line inrjuirics, in which he was so much
aided by tliis exquisite instrument, were published to the world in 1801, in his
celebrated " Essay on the Nature and Propagation of Heat." ' The experimental
devices and remarkable discoveries which distinguish this publication, far more
than atone for its great defects of method, its very questionable theories, and its
transgressions against that simplicity of style which its aspiring author rather
spurned than was unable to exemplify ; but which must be allowed to be a quality
peculiarly indispensable to the communication of scientific knowledge. The
Avork was honoured, in the following year, by the unanimous adjudication to its
author, by the council of the Royal Society, of the Rumford Medals, appropri-
ated to reward discoveries in that province, whose nature and limits he had so
much illustrated and extended.

3Ir Leslie thus distinguished himself by his acquirements, when, early in
1805, in consequence of the translation of professor Play fair from the chair of
mathematics to that of natural philosophy in the university of Edinburgh, the
former became vacant, and the subject of this memoir appeared as a candidate
for the situation. It might have been expected that, where the qualifications of
the individual were so decidedly above all rivalry, there could have been no
hesitation in his native country to confer upon him the honour- which he sought.
Such there might not have been, if what is called the moderate party in the
Scottish church, had not been inspired by a jealousy of his liberal principles in
politics, accompanied by a desire of advancing one of their own number, to op-
pose his election. The person brought forward as the rival candidate was Dr
Thomas Macknight, one of the ministers of the city, and son of the venerable
commentator on the Epistles, — a gentleman highly qualified, no doubt, not only
for this, but for almost any other chair in the university ; but who, neverthe-
less, could not be matched against an individual so distinguished for the benefits
he had conferred on science as Mr Leslie ; and who was moreover liable to the
disqualifying consideration that he was already engaged in an ofiice which, to
be well done, requires the whole man, while Mr Leslie stood in the light of a
most useful member of society in a great measure unprovided for.

The electors in this case were the magistrates and town-council of Edinburgh,
and to them Mr Leslie was recommended not only by fame, but by the Avarmest
testimonials from Sir Joseph Banks, Mr Dempster of Dunnichen, Dr Hutton of
Woolwich, Baron Masseres, and Dr Maskelyne. In the supposition that these
men were disposed to discharge their trust with fidelity, they could have no hesi-
tation in prefeiTing Blr Leslie ; and it is to be related to their credit, that they
had no such hesitation. On learning the bent of their resolution, the ministers
of Edinburgh held various private meetings, as if to indicate the more pointedly
that they had a peculiar interest of their own in the matter ; and it was resolved
to oppose Mr Leslie's election on the grounds of what they deemed an infidel
note in his essay on heat ; employing for this purpose a clause in the funda-
mental charter of the college, directing the magistrates to take the advice of the
Edinburgh clei'gy in the election of professors.

1 Previous to this period, Mr Leslie, when not otherwise or elsewhere engaged, used to
live with his brothei-s at Largo ; and there were the experiments for his essay on heat carried
on, and the book wjittcn.

SIR JOHN LESLIE. 419

The note alJudea to was one in reference to the unphilosophical theories which
once attempted to explain the phenomena of gravitation by means of invisible
£ethei'S. Mr Leslie, in treating this point, found it convenient to i-efer to Mr
Hume's theory of cause and effect, in which, as is well known, he makes use
of certain generally received doctrines to invalidate the argument for the exist-
ence of the Deity. In making the refei'ence, it did not seem to BIr Leslie to be
necessary that he should condemn the ultimate use made of these doctrines by
Blr Hume, since he was only engaged in a physical examination. His note,
therefore, stands as follows : *' Mr Hume is the first, so far as I knov.-, who has
treated of causation in a truly philosophic manner. His Essay on Necessary
Connexion seems a model of clear and accurate reasoning. But it was only
wanted to dispel the cloud of mystery which had so long darkened that im-
portant subject. The unsophisticated sentiments of mankind are in perfect uni-
son with the deductions of logic, and imply at bottom nothing more in the rela-
tion of cause and effect, than a constant invariable sequence." From these words,
liowever, it was evident, in the opinion of his clerical opponents, *' that Mr
Leslie, having, with Mr Hume, denied all such necessary connexion between
cause and effect, as implies an operating principle in the cause, has, of course,
laid a foundation for rejecting all argument that is derived from the works of
God, to prove either his being or attributes."

AVhen IVIr Leslie was informed of the grounds on which the Edinburgh min-
isters rested their opposition, he addressed a letter to the Rev. Dr Hunter^ pro-
fessor of divinity, and one of the few clergymen of the city who were not opposed
to him, laying before him some explanations of the note, to which he begged
him to call the attention of his brethren. These explanations were chiefly what
are stated above, and are thus followed up : " I have the fullest conviction that
my ideas on the question to which the note refers, would appear to coincide, in
every essential respect, with those of the most enlightened adversaries of Mr
Hume's philosophy. But, limited as I am to a few moments of time, I can
only disavow (which I do with the gi-eatest sincerity and solemnity,) every infer-
ence which the ingenuity of my opponents may be pleased to draAv from the
partial view I have taken of the general doctrine, to the prejudice of those evi-
dences on which the truths of religion are founded. If I live to publish another
edition cf my work, I pledge myself to show in an additional paragraph, how
grossly and injuriously I have been treated on this occasion. * * It is pain-
ful to be called on, after the habits of intimacy in Avhich I have lived with the
most exemplary characters in both parts of the island, to repel a direct charge
of atheism ; but whatever may be the effect of such calumnies on the minds of
strangers, it affords me much consolation to think, that they will be heard with
contempt and indignation by those who know the real state of my sentiments,
and particularly by such as are acquainted with the strictness of those religious
principles in which I had the happiness to be educated from my earliest years."
This letter was laid before the ministers at a meeting held by them on the
12th of March (1805) ; but being, to use their own phrase, by no means satisfied
with it, they appointed a committee, consisting of Dr Grieve, Mr David Black,
Mr David Dickson, and Dr Inglis, to proceed to the town-council and protest
against the election of Mr Leslie. As the council was to be that day engaged
in the election, the committee went accordingly to their chamber, and presented
a protest which had been prepared, in which, besides stating the grand objection
of the note and their inferences from it as to Mr Leslie's religious principles,
they stated that, " in the event of his being elected, notwithstanding this repre-
sentation, they reserved to themselves full power of questioning the validity of
such election, and of employing whatever means may, to them, be found compe-

420 SIR JOHN LESLIE.

tent foi" preventing' IMr Leslie's induction into tiic olHcc of jtroft'ssor ; uith full
power, in the event of his induction, to prosecute for his ejection from said of-
lico in any competent court, civil or ecclesiastical." Innnedialely after tliis
paper uas given in an<l its bearers Iiad left the hall, the coinicil clci;ted Mr
Leslie.

At the meeting of the presbytery of Ldinbnrgh on the 27tli, tlie committee
of the city clergy gave in a representation stating these transactions, along wiih
.1 copy of their protest, and requested the reverend court to take such steps in
the matter as they might judge proper. It was here determined by vote to carry
llie aflhir before the synod ; a step formally necessary for bringing it under the
decision of the highest national church court, the general assembly.

At the meeting- of this court, on the 2-2nd of May, the case of IMr Leslie came
before it in the shape of a complaint by the Rev. Sir Henry Moncrictl'and other
members of the synod, against the reference of the case to the general assembly.
It was thus apparent that the leaders of the more zealously pious parly of the
church had taken the part of 3Ir Leslie against their accustomed opponents.
The interest which the public could not have failed to entertain respecting the
question, even if confined to its native merits, was excited to an unconnuon de-
gree by this complication of the plienomenon. Tlie case, nevertheless, furnished
only an unusually striking example of what must always be the result of a party
system in any deliberative body. It happened to be convenient for the " mod-
erate " party on tliis particular occasion, to show an anxious desire for the purity
of faith and doctrine ; and for this purpose they raked up a negative title in the
Edinburgh clergy to be consulted in the exercise of the town-council patronage,
which had not been acted upon for twenty-six years, during which time several
of the very men now prosecuting had been elected to chairs in the university
without regard to it. It was equally convenient for the evangclicn.l party,
though adverse to all their usual principles, to regard the suspected infidelity of
IMr Leslie with a lenient and apologetic spirit, in order that they might be in
their usual position regarding their opponents, and because they hoped to gain
a triumph for themselves in the non-success of a prosecution, Mliich they could
easily see rested upon no valid grounds, and could hardly, in the face of public
opinion, be cai'ried to its utmost extent, even though a majority of servile votes
could have been obtained for the purpose.

In the course of the long debate which followed the introduction of the case,
some very strong testimonies were brought forward in favour of Mv Leslie's
moral and religious character. A letter from the minister of Largo testified tliat,
during the two past years, while Mr Leslie resided in the parish, he had paid a
becoming respect to religion, and that, if great abilities highly improved, an un-
stained moral character, and a tender discharge of every filial duty, recommend
to confidence and esteem, these belonged to him. Another letter, from the
clergyman of the neighbouring parish, after remarking that insinuations of the
kind disseminated respecting Mr Leslie, yielded but a contemptible support to
any cause, stated the following particulars : " I have lived in habits of intimacy
with 3Ir Leslie for some time past; I have had an opportunity of knowing his
religious and political sentiments ; I have been furnished, in short, with satisfac-
tory evidence of his attachment to our ecclesiastical and civil establishment.
His father officiated long as a worthy elder of our church : his son was once a
student of divinity ; and though he has not prosecuted his theological studies,
having been much engaged in other literary pursuits, I never heard that he liad
ceased to respect the doctrines or discipline of the church of Scotland. On the
contrary, the leading doctrines of Christianity he regards with reverence."

There was also read a letter from IMr Leslie to a friend, of date, February

SIR JOHN LESLIE. 421

22u(l, 1805, in which he thus expressed himself: " It was my lot to receive a
most virtuous and religious education, in the bosom of a family eminently dis-
tinguished by its exemplary lives ; and the impressions of my early years, no
distance of time, or change of circumstances can ever etl'ace. If my mind is
more enlarged by culture, I have likewise learned to see more deeply the im-
portance of those trutlis which bind men together in society, and which, visiting
their inmost recesses, appal the guilty and hold forth comfort to the wretched.
I have ever been a sincere lover of peace, of decency, and good order. My
time has been almost wholly spent in abstract researches, and the study of the
sublime operations of nature. The questions, so much agitated of late, served
with me only to amuse a few leisure moments ; and even at that eventful period,
when the minds of men, and particularly of young men, were so violently in-
flamed, I escaped in a great measure tlie contagion. I sighed, indeed, for the
improvement of our species ; but the slightest appearance of tumidt, or popular
violence, was most abhorrent to my temper. I never had the remotest connex-
ion with any party or political association Avhatever. In the spirit of mildness,
I endeavoured to think and act for myself. My sentiments of loyalty had been
confirmed by what I had seen during a short stay in America, where I witnessed
the disgusting and pernicious influence assumed by an ignorant, licentious, and
dissolute rabble. * * It is our native island tliat presents the truly cheering
picture of equal laws mildly administered, and holds up a body of religious in-
stitutions at once rational, decent, and impressive. I venerate the great princi-
ples of our Clirislian faith, and am solicitous to mark, by my external beha-
viour, that respect which I cherish. Raising my affections above this little spot
of eartii, tlie restless scene of intrigue, and strife, and malice, I look forward
with joy and expectation to that better country beyond the grave."

Among the most powerful speakers on the side of DIr Leslie was Sir Henry
Moncriefl", who observed that the question expressly and simply referred to a
civil right of the Edinburgh ministers. This right, he showed, had never been
before exercised in the election of a professor of mathematics, and in all proba-
bility would be confined by a court of law to the professorships existing at the
institution of the university, of which that of mathematics was not one. Tlie
right, however, if right it was, had in reality been exercised : the clergy had
gone to the council and given tlieir advice, and, though it had not been follow-
ed, still it had been received. Sir Henry also commented in strong terms upon
the fact, that the whole of this prosecution, threatening so much to Mr Leslie,
had been conducted in such a way as to allow him no possibility of appearing
in his own defence. " It is a circumstance," further continued this nervous
orator, " which I cannot help mentioning, that the ministers of Edinburgh, in
their zeal to find any sort of heresy in Blr Leslie's note, have unfortunately an-
nounced a doctrine in opposition to that which they Avould fix on him, wliich is
capable of an interpretation more hostile to religion than any thing that they
liave imputed to his book. In asserting ' such a necessary connexion between
cause and effect as implies an operating principle in the cause,' they express a
doctrine of which I can scarcely mention the pernicious tendency. If the ne-
cessity is applied to the first cause, it is not far from blasphemy. If it is restricted
(as I suppose it was meant to be) to the second cause, it is substantially the doc-
trine of materialism, and leads directly to atheism. [Here Mr Kitcliie interrupt-
ed the speaker, to remind him that he had qualified the expression, and restricted
his meaning to a conditional or contingent necessity.] True, sir, he did so.
He did the very thing which he will not allow Mr Leslie to do. He gives an
explanation for himself and his friends, wlien he perceives the consequences of
the original expressions they had employed. He qualifies tlie necessity they

422 SIR JOHN LESLIE.

asseited, by the teini ' coiulitioiwil,' by uliidi lie means to restrict it, and ho
expects that we arc to take his explanation uithout a niurniur ; although, when
Mr Leslie would confine the assertion in his note to * objects of physical exam-
ination,' he obstinately fixes him down to his original expressions, and rejects
the limitation as utterly inadmissible. Unfortunately, sir, the doctrine of the
ministers of IMinburgh, with regard to such a necessary connexion between
cause and effect as implies an operating principle in the cause, stands in its ori-
ginal state in the protest which they gave to the town-council. It is recorded
in the council books ; and there it 7nust remain in all future times, Avithout any
explanation whatever, be its tendency or its heresy ever so mischievous.

" The use," he continued with exquisite sarcasm, " which may be made of
incautious expressions, may be as forcibly illustrated from the protest of the
ministers of Edinburgh, as from the note of 3Ir Leslie. But there is this ma-
terial distinction between the two cases : 3Ir Leslie, at least, understood the
precise meaning of his assertions, as far as they related to the subject of which
he was writing ; but my reverend brethren enunciated their dogma in perfect
innocence and simplicity, completely unconscious of its true import and ten-
dency ! "

Near midnight, on the second day of the debate, it was detennined by 96
against 84 to dismiss this vexatious case without further notice. On the vote
beino- announced, a shout of applause — an unwonted sound in the general as-
sembly— burst from the crowd assembled in the galleries.

3Ir Leslie entered without further opposition upon the duties of his chair, and
upon a course of experimental discovery by which he was to confer lustre upon
the university. Through the assistance of one of his ingenious contrivances —
his hygrometer — he arrived in ISIO at the discovery of that singularly beautiful
process of artificial congelation, which enabled him to convert water and mer-
cury into ice. " We happened," says a brother professor, " to witness the con-
summation of the discovery — at least, of the performance of one of the first suc-
cessful repetitions of the process by Avhich it was effected ; and we shall never
forget the joy and elation which beamed on Uie face of tlie discoverer, as, with
his chai-acteristic good nature, he patiently explained the steps by which he had
been led to it."

In 1809 I\Ir Leslie published his Elements of Geometry, which immediately
became a class-book, and has since gone through four editions. He also pub-
lished, in 1813, an " Account of Experiments and Instruments depending on
the relation of Air to Heat and Moisture." In 1817 he produced his " Philo-
sophy of Arithmetic, exhibiting a Progressive view of the Theory and Progi-ess
of Calculation," a small octavo; and, in 1821, his " Geometrical Analysis, and
Geometry of Cui-ve Lines, being volume second of a Course of 3Iathematics, and
designed as an Inti'oduction to the study of Natural Philosophy."^ In 1822 he
published " Elements ofXatural Philosophy," for the use of his class — reprinted
in 1829 — and of which only one volume appeared. "Rudiments of Geome-
try," a small octavo, published, 1828, and designed for popular use, was his last
separate work. Besides these separate works, he wrote many admirable articles
in the Edinburgh Eeview, three profound treatises in Nicholson's Philosophical
Journal, a few in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and
several very valuable articles on different branches of physics in the Supple-

2 The Elements of Geometr}' included Trigonometry and Geometrical Anal3sis in one
volume, for the three first editions ; and the curve lines of the second order was a small separ-
ate work. In the fourth edition of the Geometry, 1820, one volume included Geometry and
Trigonometry, and the second, published some time after, consisted of Geometrical Analysis,
including the curves of the second order, formerly published with the addition of the higher
curves.

SIR JOHN LESLIE. 423

nient to the Encyclopcedia Britannica. In 1819, on the death of professor
PI ay fair, whose promotion had formerly made room for him in the chair of
mathematics, he was elevated to the professorship of natural philosophy, by
which his powers were of course brought into a far wider field of display and
of usefulness, than they had been for the preceding fourteen years. Among
the preliminary treatises of the seventh edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica,
which began to be published in 1330, he wrote a " Discourse on the History of
Mathematical and Physical Science, during the eighteenth century," which may
be described as one of the most agreeable and masterly of all his compositions.

The income enjoyed by BIr Leslie was for many years so much above his ne-
cessities, that he was able, by careful management, to realise a fortune not far
short of ten thousand pounds. Part of this he expended, in his latter years,
upon the purchase and decoration of a mansion called Coates near his native
village, where he spent all the intervals allowed by his college duties. Early
in the year 1833, at the recommendation of the lord chancellor (Brougham),
he was invested Avith a knighthood of the Guelphic order, at the same time
that Messrs Herschel, C. Bell, Ivory, Brewster, South, and Harris Nicolas,
received a similar honour. Sir John Leslie was not destined long to enjoy
the Avell-merited honour. In the end of October, while superintending some of
the iinprovements about his much-loved place, he incautiously exposed himself to
wet, the consequence of which was a severe cold. Among the various foibles
which protruded themselves through the better powers and habitudes of his mind,
was a contempt for medicine, and an unwillingness to think that he could be
seriously ill. He accordingly neglected his ailment, and was speedily seized
with erysipelas in one of his legs ; a disorder at that time raging in Scotland
with all the symptoms and effects of a malignant epidemic. On Wednesday,
October 31st, he again exposed himself in his grounds, and from that day, the
malady advanced very rapidly. On the evening of Saturday, November 3d, he
breathed his last.

The scientific and personal character of Sir John Leslie has been sketched
with so bold and free a pencil by Mr Macvey Napier, his brother in both aca-
demic and literary labours, that we make no apology for presenting it to the
reader, in lieu of any thing of our own :

" It would be impossible, we think, for any intelligent and well-constituted
mind, to review the labours of this distinguished man, without a strong feeling
of admiration for his inventive genius and vigorous powers, and of respect for
that extensive knowledge which his active curiosity, his various reading, and
his happy memory had enabled him to attain. Some few of his contemporaries
in the same walks of science, may have excelled him in profundity of under-
standing, in philosophical caution, and in logical accuracy ; but we doubt if any
surpassed him, whilst he must be allowed to have surpassed many, in that crea-
tive faculty — one of the highest and rarest of nature's gifts — which leads, and
is necessary to discovery, though not all-sufficient of itself for the formation of
safe conclusions ; or in that subtilty and reach of discernment which seizes the
finest and least obvious relations among the objects of science — which elicits the
hidden secrets of nature, and ministers to new combinations of her powers.
There were some flaws, it must be allowed, in the mind of this memorable per-
son. He strangely undervalued some branches of philosophical inquiry of high
importance in the circle of human knowledge. His credulity in matters of or-
dinary life was, to say the least of it, as conspicuous as his tendency to scepti-
cism in science. It has been profoundly remarked by IVIr Dugald Stewart, that
* though the mathematician may be prevented, in his own pursuits, from going
far astray, by the absurdities to which his errors lead him, he is seldom apt to

424 SIR JOHN LESLIE.

he revolted I)}'' absurd conclusions in othermatters. Thus, even in j)liy6ic8,'lie
adds, ' niutlienmticians have been led to acciuiescc in conclusion.s wliicli appear
ludicrous to nu-n ol" diircivnt liabits.' Suinetliiiip of the same kind Avas observ-
able in tlie mind of this distinguislied mathematician, for sucli also he was. lie
%vas a])t, too, to run into some startling hypothcbis, from an unwarrantable ap-
plication of mathematical principles to sulijects altogether foreign to them; as
when he finds an analogy between circulating decimals, and the lengthened cy-
cles of the seasons. In all his writings, with the exception, jjcrhaps, of his last
considerable performance, the discourse prefixed to the seventh edition of the
Encycloptedia IJritannica, even in the sober field of pure mathematics, there is
a constant straining after ' thoughts that breathe and words that burn,' and a
love of abstract, and figurative, and novel modes of expression, which has ex-
posed themtojustcriticism,byimpartial judges, and to some puny fault-finding,
by otJiers, more willing to carp at defects than to point out the merits which
redeem them . But when even severe criticism has said its worst, it must be al-
lowed, that genius has struck its captivating impress, deep and wide over all his
works. Ills more airy speculations may be thrown aside or condemned ; but his
exquisite instruments, and his original and beaut iful experimental combinations,
will ever atte:-t the fruitfulness of his mind, and continue to act as helps to far-
ther discovery. We have alrcad}^ alluded to the extent and excursiveness of his
reading. It is rare, indeed, to find a man of so much invention, and who him-
self valued the inventive above all the other jiowers, possessing so vast a store of
learned and curious information. His reading extended to every nook and
Corner, however obscure, that books have touched upon. He was a lover, too,
and that in no ordinary degree, of what is commonly called anecdote. Though
he did not shine in mixed society, and was latterly unfitted by a considerable
degree of deafness for enjoying it, his conversation, when seated with one or
two, was highly entertaining. It had no wit, little repartee, and no fine tiu'ns
of any kind, but it had a strongly-original and racy cast, and was replete with
etiiking remarks and curious information.

'• He had faults, no doubt, as all ' of woman born' have : he had preju-
dices, of which it would have been better to be rid; he was not over chari-
table in his views of human virtue; and he was not quite so ready, on all occa-
sions, to do that justice to kindred merit as was to be expected in so ardent a
worshipper of genius. But his faults were far more than compensated by his
many good qualities — bj' his constant equanimity, his cheerfulness, his simplicity
of character, almost infantine, his straightforwardness, his perfect freedom from
affectation, and, ahove all, his unconquerable good nature.' He was, indeed,
one of the most placable of human beings; and if, as has been thought, he
generally had a steady eye, in his worldly course, to his own" interest, it
cannot l)e denied that he was, notwithstanding, a warm and good friend, and
a relation on whose affectionate assistance a firm reliance could ever be
placed.

*' There is one other matter which, in justice to the illustrious dead, we can-
not pass over in silence; we mean the permanent service rendered to the class
of Natural Philosophy by the late Sir John Leslie in the collection of by far the

3 Tlie pprson of Sir Jolin Leslie was, in later life, far from gainly. He was short and cor-
pulent with a florid face, and somewhat unsightly projection of the front teeth, and tottered
considerably in walking. He was, moreover, very slovenly in his mode of dressing — a pecu-
liarity the more curious, as it was accompanied by no inconsiderable share of self-respect,
and an anxiety to be thought young and engaging. The mixture of great intellectual
powers with the humbler weaknesses of human nature, can seldom have been more strik-
ingly exemplified than in his case; though it is evident that, as his weaknesses were
very much those to which unmarried men in advanced life are supposed to be most pe-
culiarly liable, they might have probably been obviated in a great measure, if he had
happened to spend his life in the more fortunate condition of matrimony.

SIR JOHN LESLIE. 455

finest ami most complete set of apparatus in the kiiigilom. Augustus boasted
that he found Rome built of brick, and left it a city of palaces and temples
constructed of marble. Without any exaggeration, something analogous may be
predicated of Sir John Leslie in regard to the apparatus of this class. He found
it a collection of antiquated and obsolete rubbish ; he left it the most complete
rnd pei'fect of its kind in this kingdom ; and if it had pleased God to spare him
a few years longer, it would, beyond all doubt, have been rendei-ed the first in
Europe or the world. The renovation which he effected was, indeed, most ra*
dically complete. The whole of the old trash was thrown aside, and its place
supplied by new instruments, constructed on the most improved principles by the
most celebrated ai'tists, both in this country and on the continent; while its
absolute amount was increased tenfold, and adapted, in the happiest manner, to
the present advanced state of science. His perseverance and enthusiasm in this
respect were indeed boundless ; and as his predecessors were not experimental-
ists, in the same sense in which he was, and had made little or no effort to aC'
commodate the apparatus to the progress of science, or even to repair the wear
and tear of time, he had the whole to create, in thetsame way as if the class had
only been founded when he was first promoted to the chair. By his own con-
tinued and admirably-directed efforts, aided by the liberality of the patrons,
■who generously made him several grants in furtherance of the object which he
had so much at heart; and also by very considerable pecuniary sacrifices upon his
own part, for whicli he has never as yet got the credit that is so justly due to
him ; he at length succeeded in furnishing the apparatus-room in the manner
in which it may now be seen by any one who chooses to visit it, and thus con-
ferred upon the university a benefit for which it ouglit to be for ever grateful to
his memory. This may sound sti-ange in the eai's of those who have been ac-
customed to hear it said, as it has often been, most falsely, that Sir John Leslie
was a bad experimenter. The truth is, that of all his great and varied gifts,
none was more remarkable than the delicacy and success with which he perform-
ed the most difficult experiments, excepting perhaps his intuitive sagacity in in-
stantly detecting the cause of an accidental failure ; and it is a known fact, that,
after he had discovered and communicated to the world his celebrated process
of artificial congelation, particularly as applied to the freezing of mercury, some
of the first men of science in London failed of performing it, till the discoverer
himself, happening to be on the spot personally, showed them wherein consisted
the fault of their manipulation, and at once performed the experiment which
had previously baffled all their efforts. It is equally well known to those whc
were acquainted with him, that the most elegant in form as well as the most
delicate in operation of the beautiful instruments invented by himself, were con-
structed by his own hand, and that this, to him most agreeable employment,
constituted the recreation of his leisure hours. The apparatus-room, indeed,
contains many specimens of his workmanship in this line, and they are of such a
description as would not do any discredit to tiie most practised and skilful artist.
To his immediate successor his acquisitions and his labours will, therefore, be of
incalculable impoi-tance ; but the merit which really belongs to him can only be
duly estimated by those who know what he found, when he became professor ot
natural philosophy, and can compare it with the treasures which he has left
behind him," * ■ ~. ^

1 Some further particulars respecting his various tnlenfsand acquirements may be gathered
from tlie following notice, whicli appeared in tlie Edinburgh Courant, and seems to be the
production of one qualified in more wa\s tlian one to speak upon the subject: — "Sir John
Leslie has been for many years known in this country, and over all Europe, as one of the most
eminent characters of the age. As a mathematician and philosopher ; as a profound and
accomplished scholar; as a proficient in general literature,' and in history and many other

III. 3 H

426 JOHN LEYDEN.

LEYDEN, John, a man of singularly varied genius and accoinplishinent, was
born on the Stli of September, 1775, at Doiilioliii, a village on tlio banks of the
Teviot, in tlic parisli of Cavers and county uf Hoxbiirgli. His parents were
John Lcydcn and Isabella Scott, who liad three sons and two daughters younger
than himself. His ancestors in both lines liad been fanners on the estate of
Cavers for several generations ; but his father, tiiough skilful in rural affairs,
declined to engage on liis own account in the same occupation, thinking even
the fortunate pursuit of gain a poor compensation for the anxiety that attends it.
About a year after the birth of their first child, he removed to llenlawshicl on
the farm of Nether Tofts, which Avas then occupied by Andrew 131ythe, his wife's
uncle, whom he first served as shepherd, and subsequently as overseer, his mas-
ter liaving had the misfortune to lose his sight. The cottage in which the
family resided was of an humble construction ; its internal accommodations were
equally aimple ; but it was situated at the foot of the majestic liill of Huberslaw ,
and there, among the " dun heathy slopes and valleys green," did Leyden im-
bibe that enthusiasm and manliness of character >vhich afterwards displayed

branches of knowledge, he had few rivals. But it was for mathematical science and its kin-
dred studies, that he discovered, at a very early period, a decided predilection ; and it is in the
successful illustration of scientific truth and of all the complicated phenomena of physics, that
his great reputation has been acquired. In these pursuits he was eminently qualified to excel
by the great original powers of his mind, which were further stimulated by an ardent enthu-
siasm, and an early desire of distinction among the illustrious names of his day. Along with
a profound knowledge of his subject, he possessed great inventive powers, which not only en-
abled him to sound the deptlis of science, but to expound its important problems with a sim-
plicity and elegance rarely equalled. In making his way through the intricacies of physical
research, his severe judgment guided him in the right path ; and hence his demonstrations al-
ways aflbrd a striking and beautiful display of pure reason, without any tendency to that spirit
of metaphysical subtlety which occasionally perplexes the speculations of Laplace, Legendre,
with others of the continental philosophers ; and it is worthy of remark that, along with the
penetrating force of his judgment, he carried into those studies that taste and fancj' — that pre-
dilection for the beautiful, wliich may be recognised in all his speculations, whether in litera-
ture or in science. His taste in geometry was founded on the purest models of Grecian phi-
losophy ; he delighted to expound to his pupils the simplicity and elegance of the demonstra-
tions by the great masters of antiquity ; he commended them to their imitation, and expatiat-
ed on the subject in a manner well fitted to inspire a kindred enthusiasm ; so that we might
have fancied that he was dilating, not on the merits of a mathematical problem, but on some
of those beautiful forms and classic models of ancient art which have been the wonder of all
succeeding times. Nor was this admiration of ancient geometry a mere pedantic or barren
speculation. The great philosopher of whom we are speaking carried his principles into prac-
tice, and applied the abstract properties of figures with the happiest success to experimental
philosophy ; many branches of which he greatly extended by his discoveries ; and in all of
them he developed the most original views, which may yet be traced to important results.
The_range of his studies w^as amazingly extensive; and he liad accumulated vast stores of
knowledge, especially on scientific subjects. He was deeply versed in the history of science,
which he had traced from its earliest dawnings in tho times of Greece and Rome, through all
the subsequent vicissitudes which it experienced during the dark ages of barbarism, till it was
revived by the Arabians in the east, and was afterwards improved and perfected by the more
brilliant discoveries of modern times. We speak literally when we sa}', that we doubt if there
is a single publication relating to this subject, either in the ancient or the modern languages,
which he had not diligently perused j and his knowledge, minute and accurate on every point,
and, once acquired, never foi'gotten, overflowed in his convereation and in his writings. The
date of any great discovery was familiar to him ; he could give anecdotes or biographical
sketches of all the great promoters of science in every age ; and the prodigalitj' of his informa-
tion was not more surprising than the ease with which he preseiTed its disposition and ar-
rangement, under certain great leading principles, which were the land-marks of his mind,
by ivhich the store of facts which he had been treasuring up for jears was reduced into order,
and each distributed into its proper place in the great system of which it formed a part. For
tlie truth of this remark we may refer to the ' History of the Barometer,' in the Edinburgh
Review, and to his papers on Meteorology, and other subjects in the Enc} clopa;dia Britannica,
to his continuation of Playfair's Introductory Discourses prefixed to that work, as well as to
many of his other productions, which display the great extent of his researches. On other
subjects, also, not connected with his peculiar studies, his information was minute and exten-
sive. He was deeply read in Scottish history and antiquities j and on all modern questions of
politics or political economy, he had his own original ideas, which he was always ready to ex-
press and expound in a fair and temperate strain."

JOHN LEYDEN. 42?

themselves so strongly in his domestic affections, in his love of country, and in
his unwearied pursuit of knowledge.

With the inmates of his father's house duelt intelligence, cheerful content,
and piety ; and, in this scene of the domestic virtues, Leyden was taught to read
by ]iis grandmother, under whom lie soon acquired a familiar acquaintance with
the events recorded in the sacred volume, the historical passages in the Old Tes-
tament having first attracted his attention. There is no circumstance from
Avhich ^ve should so readily entertain good hopes of the future conduct of a boy,
as that of his having been imbued with his earliest letters by so venerable an
instructress ; for it argues not only an attentive care to make him spell and pro-
nounce words correctly, but an anxious discharge of the parental duties on the
part of the family from whom he is sprung, which cannot fail to produce the
best effects on the heai't of the young pupil — an effect how different from tliat
which other fathers are doomed to witness, who, as soon as their children's age
admits of their removal, despatch them to distant schools to be brought up as
well as taught by strangers, and think they have done all that can reasonably be
expected from them when they disburse the sums necessary for the mainte-
nance of their off^spring ! It Avas considered the highest praise of a Roman ma-
tron of rank that " she staid at home and span," domum mansii, lanam fecit ;
but by far more honourable is the epitaph which might with truth be engraved
on the tombstones of many Scottish women of the humblest rank — " she taught
her grandchildren to read." The moral worth which such a system of afl'ection-
nte training keeps alive in the land cannot be too highly estimated ; and, as if
to prove its advantage, such men as Leyden now and then emerge from useful
obscurity, and make the beauty of their home-bred virtues conspicuous to all the
world.

Leyden's taste for reading, once kindled, spread like the moorhurn on his
native heaths, first over the books in his father's possession, and then to the
shelves of the neighbours. Some popular works on Scottish history supplied the
inspiring recital of the deeds of Wallace and Bruce, which, beyond their im-
mediate benefit, have continued as examples through succeeding ages to cherish
sentiments of independence in every generous bosom. Among the other pro-
ductions with which he was greatly delighted, have been enumerated the poems
of Sir David Lindsay, Paradise Lost, Chapman's translation of Homer, and the
Arabian Nights Entertainments. An odd volume of the last-named work he ob-
tained, when he was about eleven years old, by a resolute perseverance of solici-
tation quite commensurate with the ardour of his subsequent literary career. He
had received from a companion some account of its contents, and been told that
the treasure belonged to a blacksmith's apprentice who resided at some miles'
distance from his father's house. The very next morning, Leyden waded
through the snow in the hope of being allowed to peruse a part of the volume
in the owner's presence — for he had no title to expect a loan of it in any other
way ; and that he might have leisure to do so, he set out betimes. On reaching
the smithy, learning that the lad had gone from home to do some work, he pro-
ceeded to the place, and, having preferred his request, met with a refusal. But
he was not to be so dismissed, and continuing beside the lad the whole day, he
either succeeded in gaining his good graces, or prevailed by the mere force of
pertinacity, so that he got the book as a present, and returned home by sunset,
" exhausted by hunger and fatigue," says Sir Walter Scott, "but in triumphant
possession of a treasure for which he would have subjected himself to yet greater
privations."

At nine years of age Leyden had been sent to the parish school of Kirktown,
where, to writing and arithmetic, he added a little knowledge of Latin gram-

423 JOHN LKYDEN.

niar. He continuetl here three years, wilh tlie interval of two very long vaca-
tions, ill coiiscquoiicc of tlic death of one teaclicr ami the removal of another.
At these times he assumed tlio jilaid, aiul looked arter his father's flock when
his assistance uas needed. His patents now clearly j)erceivc<l that the bent of
their son's mind was for Icariiin:^, and ho was accordingly placed under the
charge of ."Mr Uiiiican, a Cameronian minister at Uenhoim, who instructed a few
pupils, — he could not usually draw together more than five or six, — in Greek
and Latin. " Of the eagerness of his desire fur knowledge," says the Uev.
James 3Iorton, " it may not be improper to relate an anecdote wiiicli took place
at this time : Uenhoim being about tiirec miles from his home, which was rather
too long a Avalk, his fatiier was going to buy iiim an ass to convey liiin to and
from school. Leyden, however, was unwilling, from the conunon prejudice
against this animal, to encounter the ridicule of his schoolfelloAVS by appearing
so ignobly mounted, and would at first have declined the offered acc<jniinodation.
But no sooner was he informed that the owner of the ass happened to have in
his possession a large book in so?ne learned language, which he olfered to give
into the bargain, tlian his reluctance entirely vanished, and he never rested un-
til he had obtained this literary treasure, which was found to be the Calepini
Diclionarium Octolingue,^''

After he had enjoyed the advantage of I\Ir Duncan's instructions for two
years, it was judged tliat he was qualified for college ; and in November, 1790,
his father accompanied him half-way to Edinburgh, with a horse which they
rode alternately ; he performed the rest of the journey on foot. His views
being- directed to the church, he began the usual course of study by attending
the Greek and Latin classes ; in the preparations for which he was assiduous,
allotting- a stated portion of time daily to the tasks of each professor, and em-
ploying the remaining hours in desultory reading, from which, having the com-
mand of the college library, he was not deterred, like some young men, by any
difficulty of determining which books it would be most proper and advantageous
for him to read first. His public appearances threatened at the outset to draw
down upon him some degree of ridicule ; but professor Dalzell used to describe
with some humour, the astonishment and amusement excited in his class when
John Leyden first stood up to recite his Greek exercise. Tiie rustic yet un-
daunted manner, the humble dress, the high harsh tone of his voice, joined to
the broad provincial accent of Teviotdale, discomposed on tliis first occasion the
gravity of the professor, and totally routed that of the students. 15ut it was
soon perceived that these uncouth attributes were joined to qualities which com-
manded respect and admiration. The rapid progress of the young rustic at-
tracted the approbation and countenance of the professor, who was ever prompt
to distinguish and encourage merit ; and to those among the students who did
not admit literary proficiency as a shelter for the ridicule due since the days of
Juvenal to the scholar's worn coat and unfashionable demeanour, Leyden was in
no respect averse from sho^ving strong reasons adapted to their comprehension,
and affecting their personal safety, for keeping their mirth within decent
bounds.'

The Greek language was long his favouri;e study, and, considering his op-
portunities, he became much more intimately acquainted with its best authors
than is usual in Scotland, even among those who make some pretensions to lite-
rature. Ihe Latin he understood thoroughly ; and it is perhaps the best proof

1 The ensuing part of the present article is borrowed with very slight alterations from a
memoir of Dr Leyden, in the Edinburgh Annual Register for ISli — tvideiitl}', from its
" careless inimitable graces," the composition of Sir Walter Scott,

JOHN LEYDEN. 429

of his classical attainments, that at a later period, to use his own expression^
*' he passed muster pretty uell when introduced to Dr Parr."

Leyden was now at the fountain-head of knowledge, and availed himself of
former privations by quaffing it in large dranghts. He not only attended all the
lectures usually connected with the study of theology, but several others, parti-
cularly some of the medical classes, — a circumstance which afterwards proved
important to his outset in life, although at the time it could only be ascribed to
his restless and impatient pursuit after science of every description. Admission
to these lectures was easy from the liberality of the professors, who throw their
classes gratuitously open to young men educated for the church, a privilege of
which Leyden availed himself to the utmost extent. There were indeed few
branches of study in which he did not make some progress. Besides the learned
languages, he acquired French, Spanish, Italian, and German, was familiar with
the ancient Icelandic, and studied Hebrew, Arabic, and Persian.

But though he soon became particularly distinguished by his talents as a lin-
guist, few departments of science altogether escaped his notice. He investigated
moral philosophy witii the ardour common to all youths of talent who studied
ethics under the auspices of professor Dugald Stewart, with whose personal notice
he was honoured. He became a respectable mathematician, and was at least
superficially acquainted with natural philosophy, natural history, chemistry, bo-
tany, and mineralogy. These various sciences he acquired in different degrees,
and at different times, during his residence at college. They were the fruit of
no very regular plan of study : whatever subject interested his mind at the time
attracted his principal attention till time and industry had overcome the difficul-
ties which it presented, and was then exchanged for another pursuit. It seemed
frequently to be Leyden's object to learn just so much of a particular science as
should enable him to resume it at any future period ; and to those Avho objected
to the miscellaneous, or occasionally the superficial nature of his studies, he used
to answer with his favourite interjection, "Dash it, man, never mind: if you
have the scaffolding ready, you can run up the masonry when you please."
But this mode of study, however successful with John Leyden, cannot be safely
recommended to a student of less retentive memory and robust application.
With him, however, at least while he remained in Britain, it seemed a matter of
little consequence for what length of time he resigned any particular branch of
study ; for when either some motive or mere caprice induced him to resume it,
he could with little difficulty re-unite all the broken associations, and begin
where he left oft' months or years before, without having lost an inch of ground
during tlie interval.

The vacations which our student "spent at home were employed in ar-
ranging, methodizing, and enlarging the information which he had acquired
during his winter's attendance at college. His father's cottage affording him
little opportunity for quiet and seclusion, he was obliged to look out for accom-
modations abroad, and some of his places of retreat were sufficiently extraordi-
nary. In a wild recess, in the dean or glen which gives name to the viHage of
Denholm, he contrived a sort of furnace for the purpose of such chemical ex-
periments as it was adequate to performing. But his chief place of retirement
was the small parish church, a gloomy and ancient building, generally believed
in the neighbourhood to be haunted. To this chosen place of study, usually
locked during week-days, Leyden made entrance by means of a window,
read there for many hours in the day, and deposited his books and specimens
in a retired pew. It was a well chosen spot of seclusion, for the kirk, (except-
ing during divine service) is rather a place of terror to the Scottish rustic, and
that of Cavers was rendered more so by many a tale of ghosts and witchciaft.

430 JOHN LEYDEN.

of which it was the supposed scene ; and to which Leyden, partly to indulge

his Iiuniuur, and partly to secure his retirement, contrived toniaI<e some modern
additions. Tiio nature of liis abstruse studies, some specimens of natural his-
tory, as toads and adders, left exposed in their spirit vials, and one or two
practical jests played oiY upon the more curious of the peasantry, rendered his
gloomy liaunt not only venerated by the wise, hut feared by the simple, of the
])arish, who began to account this abstracted student, like the gifted person de«
scribed by \\'ords\vorth, as possessing

• Waking empire wiJe as dreams,

An ample sovereignly of e3e and ear ;
Rich arc liis walks wilh supernatural cheer ;
TJie region of his inner spirit teems
With vital sounds, and monitory gleam?
Of high astonishment and pleasing fear.

This was a distinction which, as we have already hinted, he was indeed not
unwilling to afl'ect, and to which, so far as the visions existing in the high fancy
of the poet can supply those ascribed to the actual ghost-seer, he had indeed no
slight pretensions.

Books as well as retirement were necessary to the progress of Leyden'o
studies, and not always attainable. But his research collected from every quar-
ter such as were accessible by loan, and he subjected himself to the utmost pri-
vations to purchase those that were not otherwise to be procured. The
reputation also of his prosperous career of learning obtained him occasional ac-
cess to the library of IMr Douglas of Cavers ; an excellent old collection, in
which he met, for the first time, many of those works of the middle ages which he
studied with so much research and success. A Froissart in particular, trans-
lated by lord Berners, captivated his attention with all those tales " to savage
virtue dear," which coincided with his taste for chivalry, and with the models
on which it had been formed ; and tales of the Black Brince, of the valiant
Chandos, and of Geoffrey Tete-Noir, now rivalled the legends of Johnnie Arm-
strang, Walter the Devil, and the Black Douglas.

In the country, Leyden's society was naturally considerably restricted, but
while at college it began to extend itself among such of his fellow students as
were distinguished for proficiency in leai'ning. Among these we may number
tlie celebrated author of the Pleasures of Hope ; the Bev. Alexander Murray
united with Leyden in the kindred pursuit__of oriental learning, and whose
lamp, like that of his friend, was extinguished at the moment when it was
placed in the most conspicuous elevation ; William Erskine, author of a poetical
epistle from St Kilda, with whom Leyden renewed his friendship in India; the
ingenious Dr Thomas Brown, distinguished for his early proficiency in the
science of moral philosophy, of which he was afterwards professor in the Edin-
burgh college ; the llev. Kobert Lundie, minister of Kelso, and several otliei
young men of talent, who at that time pursued their studies in the university of
Edinburgh.

In the year 1796, the recommendation of professor Dalzell procured Leyden
the situation of private tutor to tlie sons of Mr Campbell of Faii-field, a situation
which he retained for two or three years. During the winter of 1798, he attended
the two young gentlemen to their studies at the college of St Andrews. Here
he had the advantage of the acquaintance of professor Hunter, an admirable
classical scholar, and to whose kind instructions he professed much obligation.
The secluded situation also of St Andrews, the monastic life of the students, the
fragments of antiquity with which that once metropolitan town is suiTOunded, and

JOHN LEYDEN. 431

the libraries of its colleges, gave liim additional opportunity and impulse to
pursue his favourite plans of study.

About the time he resided at St Andrews, the renown of Mungo Park, and
Leyden's entliusiastic attachment to all researches connected with oriental
learning, turned his thoughts towards the history of Africa, in which he found
much to enchant an imagination which loved to dwell upon the grand, the mar-
vellous, the romantic, and even the horrible, and which was rather fired than
appalled by the picture of personal danger and severe privation. Africa indeed
had peculiar charms for Leyden. He delighted to read of hosts, Avhose arrows
intercepted the sunbeams ; of kings and soldiers, who judged of the numberless
number of their soldiei's by marching them over the trunk of a cedar, and only
deemed their strength sufficient to take the field when such myriads had passed
as to reduce tlie solid timber to impalpable dust : the royal halls also of Daho-
mey, built of sculls and cross-bones, and moistened with the daily blood of new
victims of tyranny, all, in short, that presented strange, wild, and romantic
views of human nature, and Avhich furnished new and unheard-of facts in the
history of man, had great fascination for his ardent imagination. And about
this time he used to come into company, quite full of these extraordinary stories,
garnished faithfully Avith the unpronounceable names of the despots and tribes of
Africa, which any one at a distance would have taken for the exorcism of a
conjurer. The fruit of his researches he gave to the public in a small volume,
entitled, " An Historical and Philosophical Sketch of the Discoveries and Settle-
ments of the Europeans in Northern and Western Africa at the close of the 1 8th
century," crown 8vo, 1799. It is written on the plan of Kaynal's celebrated
work, and, as it contains a clear and lively abridgment of the information af-
forded by travellers whose Avorks are of rare occurrence, it was favourably re-
ceived by the public.

On Leyden's return to Edinburgh from St Andrews, he resided with his
pupils in the family of Mr Campbell, where he Avas treated with that respect
and kindness which every careful father will pay to him whose lessons he ex-
pects his children to receive with attention and advantage. His hours, except-
ing those of tuition, were at his own uncontrolled disposal, and such of his
friends as chose to visit him at Mr Campbell's, were sure of a hospitable re-
ception. This class began now to extend itself among persons of an older
standing than his contemporaries, and embi'aced several who had been placed
by fortune, or had risen by exertions, to that fixed station in society, to which
his college intimates were as yet only looking forwards. His acquaintance with
Mr Ptichard Heber Avas the chief means of connecting him with several families
of the former description, and it originated in the following circumstances.

John Leyden's feelings Avere naturally poetical, and he Avas early led to ex-
press them in the language of poetry. Before he visited St AndrcAvs, and Avhile
residing there, he had composed both fragments and complete pieces of poetry
in almost every style and stanza Avhich our language affords, from an unfinished
tragedy on the fate of the Darien settlement, to songs, ballads, and comic tales.
Many of these essays afterwards found their Avay to the press through the
medium of the Edinburgh Magazine, at that time under the management or the
patronage of Dr Robert Anderson, editor of the British poets, Avith Avhom Ley-
den was on tenns of intimacy. In this periodical miscellany appeared from
time to time poetical translations from the Greek Anthology, from the Norse,
from the HebrcAV, from the Arabic, from the Syriac, from the Persian, and so
forth, Avith many original pieces, indicating more genius than taste, and an ex-
tent of learning of most unusual dimensions. These Avere subscribed J. L.
About this time also Mr Archibald Constable Avas opening business chiefly as a

432 JOHN LEY DEN.

retailer of curious nnd niicieiit books, a deparlmcat in which lie poBSissi-d ov-
teiisive knowledge ; IMr Kichard lleber, llie extent of whose invaluaijJe libraiy
is generally known, was, in the winter of 17!)U-1800, residing in ildinburgli,
and a frc(iMcntor of course of IMr Constable's shop. In these researches he
formed an acquaintance with Leyden, who examined as an amateur the shelves
whicli 3Ir lleber ransacked as a purchaser, and tlie latter discovered witli plea-
sure the iniknown author of the poems which have been already alluded to.
The acquaintance soon ripened into friendship, and w'as cemented by mutual ad-
vantage, 3Ir lleber had found an associate as ardent as himself in the pursuit
of classical knowledge, and who would willingly sit up night after night to col-
late editions, and to note various readings ; and Leyden, besides the advantage
and instruction which he derived from 3Ir lleber's society, enjoyed that of
being introduced, by his poAvcrful reconnnendation, to the literary gentlemen of
Edinburgh, with whom he lived in intimacy. Among these may be reckoned
the late lord Woodiiouselee, IMr Henry Mackenzie, the distinguished author of
the IMan of Feeling, and the Reverend IMr Sidney Smith, then residing in
Edinburgh, from all of whom T.eyden received flattering attention, and many
important testimonies of the interest which they took in his success. ]5y the
same introduction he bec^ame intimate in the family of 3Ir A\'alter Scott, where
a congenial taste for ballad, romance, and border antiquities, as well as a sin-
cere admiration of Lcyden's high talents, extensive knowledge, and excellent
heart, secured him a welcome reception. And by degrees his society extended
itself still more widely, and comprehended almost every one who was distin-
guished for taste or talents in Edinburgh.

The manners of Leyden, when he fii^st entered into company, were very
peculiar ; nor indeed were they at any time much modified during his continu-
ing in Europe ; and here, perhaps, as properly as elsewhere, we may endea-
vour to give some idea of his personal appearance and habits in society. In
his complexion the clear red upon the cheek indicated a hectic propensity, but
with his brown hair, lively dark eves, and well-proportioned features, gave an
acute and intei'esting turn of expression to his whole countenance. He was of
middle stature, of a frame rather thin than strong, but muscular and active, and
well fitted for all those athletic exertions in which he delighted to be accounted
a master. For he Avas no less anxious to be esteemed a man eminent for learn-
ing and literary talent, than to be held a fearless player at single-stick, a for-
midable boxer, and a distinguished adept at leaping, running, walking, climbing,
and all exercises which depend on animal spirits and muscular exertion. Feats
of this nature he used to detail with such liveliness as sometimes led his au-
dience to charge him with exaggeration ; but, unlike the athletic in j^Isop's
apologue, he was always ready to attempt the repetition of his great leap at
Kliodes, were it at the peril of breaking his neck on the spot. And certainly
in many cases his spirit and energy carried him through enterprises which his
friends considered as most rashly undertaken. An instance occurred on board
of ship in India, where two gentlemen, by way oi quizzing Leyden's pretensions
to agility, offered him a bet of twenty gold niohrs that he could not go aloft.
Our bard instantly betook himself to the shrouds, and, at all the risk incident to
a landsman who first attempts such an ascent, successfully scaled the main-top.
There it was intended to subject him to an unusual practical sea joke, by seizing
Jiim up, i. e, tying him, till he should redeem himself by paying a fine. ]3utthe
spirit of Leyden dictated desperate resistance, and, finding he was likely to be
overpowered, he flung himself from the top, and, seizing a rope, precipitated
himself on deck by letting it slide rapidly through lus grasp. In this operation
he lost the skin of both hands, but of course won his wager. But when he ob«

JOHN LEYDEN. 433

servod his friends looli. grave at the expensive turn which their jest had taken
he tore and flung into the sea the order for the money which they had given
him, and contented himself with the triumph which his spirit and agility had
gained. And this little anecdote may illustrate his character in more respects
than one.

In society, John Leyden's first appeai-ance had something that revolted the
fastidious and alarmed the delicate. He was a bold and uncompromising dispu-
tant, and neither subdued his tone, nor mollified the form of his argument, out
of deference to the rank, age, or even sex of those with whom he was maintain-
ing it. His voice, Avhich was naturally loud and harsh, was on such occasions
exaggerated into what he himself used to call his saw-tones, which were not
very pleasant to tlie ear of strangers. His manner was animated, his movements
abrupt, and the gestures with which he enforced his arguments rather forcible
than elegant ; so that, altogether, his first appearance was somewhat appallin"'
to persons of low animal spirits, or shy and reserved habits, as well as to all
who expected much reverence in society on account of the adventitious circum-
stances of rank or station. Besides, his spirits were generally at top-flood, and
entirely occupied with what had last arrested his attention, and tlius his own
feats, or liis own studies, were his topic more frequently than is consistent with
the order of good society, in which every person has a right to expect his share
of convei'sation. He was indeed too much bent on attaining personal distinc-
tion in society to choose nicely the mode of acquiring it. For example, in the
course of a large evening party, crowded with fashionable people, to many of
whom Leyden was an absolute stranger, silence being imposed for the purpose
of a song, one of his friends with great astonishment, and some horror, heard
Leyden, who could not sing a note, scream forth a verse or two of some border
ditty, with all the dissonance of an Indian war-whoop. In their way home, he
ventured to remonstrate with his friend on this extraordinary exhibition, to
which his defence was, " Dash it, man, they would have thought I Avas afraid
to sing before them." In short, his egotism, his bold assumption in society,
his affectation of neglecting many of its forms as trifles beneath his notice — cir-
cumstances which often excited against his first appearance an undue and dis-
proportionate prejudice — were entirely founded upon the resolution to support his
independence in society, and to assert that character formed between the let-
tered scholar, and the wild rude borderer, the counter part as it were of Ana-
charsis, the philosophic Scythian, which, from his infancy, he was ambitious of
maintaining. His humble origin was with him rather a subject of honest pride
than of false shame, and he was internally not unwilling that his deportment
should to a certain degree partake of the simplicity of the ranks from which he
had raised himself by his talents, to bear a share in the first society.

Having thus marked strongly the defects of his manner, and the prejudice
which they sometimes excited, we crave credit from the public, while we record
the real virtues and merits by which they were atoned a thousand fold. Ley-
den's apparent harshness of address covered a fund of real aflection to his friends,
and kindness to all with whom he mingled, unw,earied in their service, and
watchful to oblige them. To gratify the slightest wish of a friend, he would
engage at once in the most toilsome and diflioult researches, and when perhaps
that friend had forgotten that he even intimated such a wish, Leyden came to pour
down before him the fullest information on the subject which had excited his
attention. And his temper was in reality, and notwithstanding an aflectation of
roughness, as gentle as it was generous. No one felt more deeply for the dis-
ti'ess of those he loved. No one exhibited more disinterested pleasure in their
success. In dispute, he never lost temper, and if he despised the outworks of

434 JOHN LEYDEN.

ceremony, lie never tresitassed upon tlie essentials of good brccdin"^, nnd was
himself the liist to feel hurt nnd distressed if he conceived that he had, by any
rnsh or hasty expression, injured the feclinj^s of the most inconsidcralde member
of tlie company. In all the rough play of his argument too, lie \\as strictly
good-humoured, and was the first to laugh if, as must happen occasionally to
those who talk much, and upon every subject, some disputant of less extensive
but more accurate information, contrived to arrest him in his very pitch of
pride, by a home fact or incontrovertible argument. And, when his high and
independent spirit, his firm and steady principles of religion nnd virtue, his
constant good humour, the extent and variety of his erudition, nnd the liveli-
ness of his conversation, were considered, they must have been fastidious indeed
wlio were not reconciled to the foibles or peculiarities of his tone and
manner.

Many of those whose genius lias raised them to distinction, have fallen
into the fatal error of regarding their wit and talents as an excuse for the un-
limited indulgence of their passions, and their biographers have too frequently
to record the acts of extravagance, and habits of immorality, Avhich disgraced
and shortened their lives. From such crimes and follies John Leyden stood
free and stainless. He was deeply impressed with the truths of Christianity, of
which he Avas at all times q. ready and ardent asserter, and his faith was attested
by the purity of morals which is its best earthly evidence. To the pleasures of
the table he was totally indifferent, never exceeded the bounds of temperance
in wine, though frequently in society where there was temptation to do so, and
seemed hardly to enjoy any refreshment excepting tea, of which he sometimes
drank very large quantities.^ When he Avas travelling or studying, his temper-
ance became severe abstinence, and he often passed an entire day without any
other food than a morsel of bread. To sleep he was equally indifferent, and
when, during the latter part of his residence in Edinburgh, he frequently spent
the day in company, he used, upon retiring home, to pursue his studies till a
late hour in the morning, and satisfy himself with a very brief portion of repose.
It w as the opinion of his friends, that his strict temperance alone could have en-
abled him to foUoAV so hard a course of reading as he enjoined himself. His
pecuniary resources were necessarily much limited ; but he knew that indepen-
dence, and the title of maintaining a free and uncontrolled demeanour in society
can only be attained by avoiding pecuniary embarrassments, and he managed
his funds with such severe economy, that he seemed always at ease upon his
very narrow income. We have only another trait to add to his character as a
member of society. With all his bluntness and peculiarity, and under disadvan-
tages of birth and fortune, Leyden's reception among females of rank and ele-
gance was favourable in a distinguished degree. Whether it is that the tact of
the fair sex is finer than ours, or that they more readily pardon peculiarity in
favour of originality, or that an uncommon address and manner is in itself a re-
commendation to their favour, or that they are not so readily offended as the
male sex by a display of superior learning ; in short, whatever were the cause,
it is certain that Leyden was a favourite among those whose favour all are am-
bitious to attain. Among the ladies of distinction who honoured him with their
regard, it is sufficient to notice the late duchess of Gordon and lady Charlotte
Campbell (now Bury), who were then leaders of the fashionable society of Edin-
burgh. It is time to return to trace the brief events of his life.

In 1800, Leyden was ordained a preacher of the gospel, and entered upon
the functions then conferred upon him, by preaching in several of the churches

^ A lady whose house he frequented, mentioned to a friend of the editor thai she had
filled him out eighteen cups in one eyening.

JOHN LEYDEN. 435

in Edinburgh and the neighbourhood. His style of pulpit oratory was marked
with the same merits and faults which distinguish his poetry. His style ^vas
more striking than eloquent, and his voice and gesture more violent than ele-
gant ; but his discourses were marked with strong h'aits of original genius, and
although he pleaded an internal feeling of disappointment at being unequal to
attain his own ideas of excellence as a preacher, it was impossible to listen to
him without being convinced of his uncommon extent of learning, knowledge of
ethics, and sincere zeal for the interest of religion.

The autumn of the same year was employed in a tour to the Highlands and
Hebrides, in which Leyden accompanied two young foreigners who had studied
at Edinburgh the preceding winter. In this tour he visited all the remarkable
places of that interesting part of his native country, and, diverging from the
common and more commodious route, visited what are called the rouglc boundu
of the Highlands, and investigated the decaying traditions of Celtic manners
and story which are yet preserved in the wild districts of Moidart and Knoidart.
The journal ;vhich he made on this occasion was a curious monument of his
zeal and industry in these i-esearches, and contained much valuable information
on the subject of Highland manners and tradition, which is now probably lost to
tlie public. It is remarkable, that after long and painful research in quest of
original passages of the poems of Ossian, he adopted an opinion more favour-
able to their authenticity than has lately prevailed in the literary world. But
the confessed infidelity of Dlacpherson must always excite the strongest suspicion
on this subject. Leyden composed, with his usual facility, several detached
poems upon Highland traditions, all of which have probably perished, excepting
a ballad, founded upon the romantic legend i-especting MacPhail of Colonsay
and the Mermaid of Correvrecken, inscribed to lady Charlotte Campbell, and
published in the third volume of the Border Minstrelsy, which appeared at the
distance of about a twelvemonth after the first two volumes. The opening of
this ballad exhibits a po^ver of harmonious numbers which has seldom been ex-
celled in English poetry. Nor were these legendary effusions the only fruit of
his journey; for, in his passage through Aberdeen, Leyden so far gained the
friendship of the venerable professor Beattie, that he obtained his permission to
make a transcript from the only existing copy of the interesting poem entitled
Albania. This work, which is a panegyric on Scotland in nervous blank verse,
written by an anonymous author in the beginning of the eighteenth century,
Leyden afterwards republished along with Wilson's " Clyde," under the title of
"Scottish Descriptive Poems," I2mo, 1 802.

In 1801, when Mr Lewis published his Tales of Wonder, Leyden was a con-
h'ibuter to that collection, and furnished the ballad called the Elf-king ; and
in the following year, he employed himself earnestly in the congenial task of
procuring materials for the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, the first publica-
tion of Walter Scott. In this labour, he was equally interested by friendship
for the editor, and by his own patriotic zeal for the honour of the Scottish bor-
ders, and both may be judged of from tlie following circumstance. An inter-
esting fragment had been obtained of an ancient historical ballad, but the
remainder, to the great disturbance of the editor and his coadjutor, was not to
be recovered. Two days afterwards, while Mr Scott was sitting with some
company after dinner, a sound was heard at a distance like that of the whistling
of a tempest through the torn rigging of the vessel Avhich scuds before it. The
sounds increased as they approached more near, and Leyden (to the great aston-
ishment of such of the guests as did net know him,) burst into the room,
chanting the desidei-ated ballad with the most enthusiastic gesture, and all the
energy of the saw-tones of his voice already commemorated. It turned out, that

436 JOHN LEYDEN.

lie had wallcctl bct\vceii forty ami (if(y miles aiHl back a^ain, fur the sole piii-
])080 of visiting' an oM jiersoii who possessed lliis jtrerious roinnant of antiquity.
His antiquarian rcsearchos and poetic talents were also liberally exerted for tlie
support of ibis miderlakiniif. To the former, tiie reader owes in a f;;reat niea-
suro the Dissertation on lairy Superstition, wiiicli, altboiigb arranj^ed and
digested by IMr Scott, abounds with instances of suoh curious reading as Leyden
alone bad read, and was originally compiled by him; and to the latter the
spirited ballads entitled Lord Soulis and tiie Cout of Keeldar.

Leyden's next publication was " The Complaynt of Scotland, a new edition
of an ancient and singularly rare tract bearing that title, written by an uncer-
tain author, about the year 151)8." This curious Avork was published by IMr
Constable in the year 1801. As the tract was itself of a difl'useand comprehen-
sive nature, touching upon many unconnected topics, both of jmblic policy and
private life, as well as treating of the learning, the poetry, the music, and the
arts of that early period, it gave Leyden an opportunity of pouring forth such
a profusion of antiquarian knowledge in the preliminary dissertation, notes, and
glossary, as one ivould have thought could hardly have been accunnilated during
so short a lile, dedicated too to so many and varied studies. The intimate ac-
quaintance Avhich he has displayed with Scottish antiquities of every kind, from
manuscript histories and rare chronicles, down to the tradition of the peasant,
and the rhymes even of the nursery, evince an extent of research, power of ar-
rangement, and facility of recollection, which has never been equalled in this
department.

Bleanwhile other pursuits were not abandoned in the study of Scottish anti-
quities. The ]'".dinburgh IMagazine was united in IS02 with the old Scots Ma-
gazine, and was now put under the management of Leyden by Mr Constable the
publisher. T"o this publication, during the period of his management, which was
about five or six months, he contributed several occasional pieces of prose and
poetry, in all of which he was successful, excepting in those where humour was
required, which, notwithstanding his unvaried hilarity of temper, Leyden did
not possess. He was also, during this year, engaged with his " Scenes of In-
fancy," a poem which was afterwards published on the eve of his leaving Britain ;
and in which he has interwoven his own early feelings and recollections with the
description and traditional history of his native vale of Teviot.

The friends of Leyden began now to be anxious for his present settlement in
life. He had been for two years in orders, and there was every reason to hope
that he might soon obtain a church, through the numerous friends and powerful
interest which he now possessed. More than one nobleman of high rank ex-
pressed a wish to serve him, should any church in their gift become vacant ; and,
from the recommendation of other friends to those possessed of political interest, he
was almost assured of being provided lor, by a crown presentation, on some early
opportunity. But his eager desii-e of travelling, and of extending the bounds of
literary and geographical knowledge, had become, as he expressed himself to an
intimate friend, " his thought by day and his dream by night, and the discoveries
of I\Iungo Park haunted liis very slumbers." When the risk was objected to
him, he used to answer in a phrase of Ossian, " Dark Cuchullin will be renowned
or dead ;" and it became hopeless to think that this eager and aspiring spirit could
be confined within the narrow sphere, and limited to the humble, though useful
duties of a country clergyman. It was therefore noAV the wish of his friends to
turn this irresistible thirst for discovery, into some channel which nnght at once
gratify the predominant desire of his heai-t, and be attended with some prospect
of securing iiis fortune. It was full time to take such steps ; for in 1802 Leyden
had actually commenced overtures to the African Society, for undertaking a jour-

JOHN LEYDEN. 437

ney of discovery through the interior of that continent — an enterprise which sad
examples have shown to be little better than an act of absolute suicide. To di-
vert his mind from this desperate project, a representation was made to the
Right Hon. William Dundas, who had then a seat at the Board of Conti-ol,
stating the talents and disposition of Leyden, and it was suggested that such a
person might be usefully employed in investigating the language and learning of
the Indiaji tribes. Mr Dundas entered with the most liberal alacrity into these
views ; but it happened, unfortunately as it might seem, that the sole appoint-
ment then at his disposal was that of surgeon's assistant, which could only be held
by a person who had taken a surgical degi'ee, and could sustain an examination
before the medical board at the India house. It was upon this occasion that
Leyden showed, in their utmost extent, his wonderful powers of application and
comprehension. He at once intimated his readiness to accept the appointment
under the conditions annexed to it, and availing himself of the superficial infor-
mation he had formerly acquired by a casual attendance upon one or two of the
medical classes, he gave his whole mind to the study of medicine and surgery,
uith the purpose of qualifying himself for his degree in the short space of five
or six months. The labour which he underwent on this occasion was incredible ;
but with the powerful assistance of a gentleman of the highest eminence in his
profession, (Mr John Bell of Edinburgh,) he succeeded in acquiring such a know-
ledge of this complicated and most difficult art, as enabled him to obtain his
diploma as surgeon with credit, even in the city of Edinburgh, so long famed
for its medical school, and for the wholesome rigour adopted in the distribution
of degrees. Leyden was, however, incautious in boasting of his success after so
short a course of study, and found himself obliged, in consequence of his impru-
dence, to relinquish his intention of taking out the degi'ee of M. D. at Edinbui-gh,
and to have recourse to another Scottish university for that step in his profession.
Meanwhile the sudden exchange of his profession gave great anmsement to some
of his friends, especially when a lady having fainted in a crowded assembly, Dr
Leyden advanced to her assistance, and went through the usual routine of treat-
ment with all the gravity which beseemed his new faculty. In truth, the imme-
diate object of his studies was always, in season and out of season, predominant
in Leyden's mind, and just about this time he went to the evening party of a
lady of the highest rank with the remnants of a human hand in his pocket, which
he had been dissecting in the morning, and on some question being stirred about
tile muscular action, he was witii difficulty withheld from producing this grisly
evidence in support of the ■ ai'gument which he maintained. The character of
Leyden cannot be understood without mentioning those circumstances that are
allied to oddity ; but it is not so easy to body forth those qualities of energy, ap-
plication, and intelligence, by which he dignified his extravagancies, and vindi-
cated his assumption of merit, far less to paint his manly, generous, and friendly
disposition.

In December 1802, Leyden was summoned to join the Christmas fleet of In-
diamen, in consequence of his appointment as assistant-surgeon on the Madras
establishment. It was sufficiently understood that his medical character was
only assumed to bring him within the compass of Mr Dundas's patronage, and
that his talents should be employed in India with reference to his literary re-
searches. He was, however, ■pro forma, nominated to the Madras hospital.
While awaiting this call, he bent his whole energies to the study of the oriental
languages, and amused his hours of leisure by adding to the Scenes of Infancy,
many of those passages addressed to his friends, and bearing particular reference
to his own situation on the eve of departure from Scotland, Avhich, flowing warm
from the lieart, constitute the principal charm of that impressive poem. Mr

438 JOHN LEYDEN.

James Ballantj'nc, an early aud intimate friend of Leyden, had just then estab-
lished in Edinburgh his press, -which afterwards became so distinguished. To tho
critical skill of a valuc<l and learned friend, and to the friendly as well as
professional rare of J5allantyne, I.cyden connniUed this last meniori;il of ids lovo
to his native land. The last sheets reauh'jd him before he left Britain, no nioro
to return.

About the middle of December, John Leyden left Juliuburgh, but not exactly
at the time he had proposed, lie had taken a solemn farewell of his friends,
and gone to Koxburglishire to bid adieu to his parents, uhom he regarded Avith
the most tender filial aflection, and from thence he intended to have taken his
departure for London uithout returning to Edinburgh. Some accident changed
his purpose, and his unexpected arrival in Edinburgh was picturesque and some-
what startling. A party of liis friends had met in the evening to talk over his
merits, and to di ink, in Scottish phrase, his BonalUe. While about the witching
hour they were crowning a solenui bumper to his health, a figure burst into the
room, mulUed in a seaman's cloak and travelling cap, covered with snow, and
distinguishable only by the sharpness and ardour of the tone with uhich
he exclaimed, " Dash it, boys, here I am again !" The start with which this
unexpected apparition was x-eceived, was subject of great mirth at the time, and
the circumstance was subsequently recalled by most of the party with that mix-
ture of pleasure and melancholy which attaches to the particulars of a last meet-
ing with a beloved and valuable friend.

In London, the kindness of Mr Heber, his o'.vn reputation, and the recom-
mendation of his Edinburgh friends, procured Leyden much kindness and at-
tention among persons of rank and literary distinction. His chief protectoi*
and friend, however, was Mr George Ellis, the well-known editor of the Speci-
mens of Ancient English Poetry. To this gentleman he owed an obligation of
the highest possible value, in a permission which he kindly granted him to
change, on account of illness, from one vessel to another, the foi-mcr being
afterwards unfortunately cast away in going down the river, when many of the
passengers were drow-ued.

After this providential exchange of destination, the delay of the vessel to
which he was transferred, permitted his residence in London until the beginning
of April, 1803, an interval which he spent in availing himself of the opportuni-
ties which he now enjoyed, of mixing in the most distinguished society in the
metropolis, where the novelty and good humour of his character made ample
amends for the native bluntness of his manners. In the beginning of April, he
sailed from Portsmouth, in the Hugh Inglis, where he had the advantage of be-
ing on board the same vessel with BIr Kobert Smith, the brother of his steady
friend, the Rer. ?Ir Sidney Smith. And thus set forth on his voyage perhaps
the first British traveller that ever sought India, moved neither by the love of
ivealth nor of power, and who, despising alike the luxuries commanded by the
one, and the pomp attached to the other, was guided solely by the wish of ex-
tending our knowledge of oriental literature, and distinguishing himself as its
most successful cultivator. This pursuit he urged through health and through
sickness, unshaken by all the difficulties arising from imperfect communication
with the natives, from their prejudices and those of their European masters, and
from frequent change of residence j unmoved either by the charms of plea-
sure, of wealth, or of that seducing indolence to which many men of literature
have yielded after overcoming ail other impediments. To this pursuit he
finally fell a sacrifice, as devoted a martyr in the cause of science, as ever died
in that of religion. \\'q are unable to trace his Indian i-csearches and travels
with accuracy similar to that wWa which we have followed those which preceded

JOHN LEYDEN. 439

his departure from Europe, but we are enabled to state the following outlines of
his fortune in the East.

After a mutiny in the vessel, \yhich Avas subdued by the exertions of the offi-
cers and passengers, and in which Leyden distinguished himself by his coolness
and intrepidity, the Hugh Inglis arrived at Madras, and he ^vas transferred to
the duties of his new profession. His nomination as surgeon to the commission-
ers appointed to survey the ceded districts, seemed to promise ample opportuni-
ties for the cultivation of oriental learning. But his health gave way under the
fatigues of the climate ; and he has pathetically recorded, in his *' Address to an
Indian Gold Coin," the inroads which were made on his spirits and constitution.
He was obliged to leave the presidency of Madras, suffering an accumulation of
diseases, and reached with difficulty Prince of Wales Island. During the pas-
sage the vessel was chased by a French privateer, which was the occasion of
Leyden's composing, in his best style of border enthusiasm, an " Ode to a Malay
cris," or dagger, the only weapon which his reduced strength now admitted of
his wielding. The following letter to Mr Ballantyne, dated from Prince of
AVales Island, 24th October, 1805, gives a lively and interesting account of his
occupations during the first two years of his residence in India.

" Pidoo Penang, October 2^th, 1805.
" My dear Ballantyne, — Finding an extra Indiaman, the Revenge, which
has put into this harbour in distress, bound to Europe, I take another oppor-
tunity of attempting to revive, or rather commence, an intercourse with my Eu-
ropean friends, for since my arrival in India I have never received a single
scrap from one of them, — Proh Deum ! Mr Constable excepted ; and my friend
Erskine writes me from Bombay, that none of you have received the least in.tel-
ligence of my motions since I left Europe. 'I'his is to me utterly astonishing
and incomprehensible, considering the multitude of letters and parcels that I
liave despatched from Mysore, especially during my confinement for the liver
disease at Seringapatam, where I had for some months the honour of inhabiting
the palace of Tippoo's prime minister. I descended into Malabar in the begin-
ning of May, in order to proceed to Bombay, and perhaps eventually up the
Persian gulf as far as Bassorah, in order to try the effect of a sea voyage. I
Avas, however, too late, and the rains had set in, and the last vessels sailed two
or three days before my arrival. As I am always a very lucky fellow, as well
as an unlucky one, which all the world knows, it so fell out that the only vessel
which sailed after ray arrival Avas wrecked, Avhile some secret presentiment, or
rather " sweet little cherub, that sits up aloft," prevented my embarking on
board of her. I journeyed leisurely down to Cnlicut from Cananore, intending
to pay my respects to the Cutwall, and the Admiral, so famous in the Lusiad of
Camoens ; but only think of my disappointment when I found that the times are
altered, and the tables turned with respect to both these sublime characters.
The Cutwall is only a species of boroughbailiff, while the Admiral, God help
him, is only the chief of the fishermen. From Calicut I proceeded to Paul-
gaut-cherry, which signifies, in the Tamal language, " the town of the forest of
palms," Avhich is exactly the meaning of Tadmor, the name of a city founded
by Solomon, not for the queen of Sheba, but, as it happened, for the equally
famous queen Zenobia. Thus having demonstrated that Solomon understood
the Tamal language, we may proceed to construct a syllogism in the following
manner: " Solomon understood the Tamal language, and he was wise, — I un-
derstand the Tamal language, therefore I am as wise as Solomon !" I fear you
logical lads of Europe will be very little disposed to admit the legitimacy of the
conclusion ; but, however the matter may stand in Europe, I can assure you it's

440 JOHN LEYDEN.

no bad reasoning for India. At raulgaiit-diori-y I Iiad a most terril>le attaclc of
tho liver, and should very probably liave ])as8C'd away, or, as llie Indians say,
changed my climate — an elegant pcrijduasis for dying, li()\\cver — had I not
obstinately resolved on living to have the pleasure of l)eing revcnrjed on all of
you for yoin- obstinate silence and ' perseverance therein to llie end.' Hearing
about the middle of August, that a liombay cruiser had touched at Alej)po, be-
tween Quilod and Cochin, I made a desperate push through the jungles of the
Cochin Hajah's country, in order to reach her, and arrived aljout three hours
after she had set sail. Any body else would have died of chagrin, if they had
not hanged themselves outright. I did ncitlier one nor the other, but * tuned
my pipes and played a spring to John o' Badenyon ;' after which I set myself
coolly down and translated the famous Jewish tablets of brass, preserved in the
synagogue of Cochin ever since the days of 3Ietlnisalem, Probably you may think
this no more diflicult a task than decypliering the brazen tablet on any door of
Princes or Queen street. Put here 1 beg your pardon ; for, so far from any
body, Jew, Pagan, or Christian, having ever been able to do tills before, I as-
sure you the most learned men of the world have never been able to decide in'
what language or in Avhat alphabet they were ^vritten. As the character has
for a long time been supposed to be antediluvian, it has for a long time been as
much despaired of as the Egyptian hieroglyphics. So much was the diwan or
grand vizier, if you like it, of Travancore nstonished at the circumstance, that
he gave' me to understand that I had only to pass throucjh the Sacred Cow in
order to merit adoption into the holy order of bramins. I was forced, however,
to decline the honour of the sacred cow, for unluckily Phalaris' bull and 3Ioses'
calf presented themselves to my imagination, and it occurred to me that perhaps
the Kam-rajah's cow might be a beast of the breed. Being on the eve of a new
attack of the liver, I was forced to leave Travancore -with great precipitation, in
the first vessel that presented itself, a Mapilla brig, bound to Puloo Penang,
the newly erected presidency on the Straits of 3Ialacca, where I have just ar-
rived, after a perverse pestilent voyage, in which I have been terribly ill of re-
vulsions of bile and liver, -without any of the conveniences which are almost
iiecessary to an European in these parts, and particularly to an invalid. We
have had a very rough passage, the cabin very often all afloat, while I have been
several times completely drenched. In addition to tliis we have been pursued
by a Frenchman, and kept in a constant state of alarm and agitation ; and now,
to mend the matter, I am writing you at a kind of naval tavern, while all around
me is ringing with the vocifei'ation of tarpaulins, the hoarse bawling of sea oaths,
and the rattling of the dice-box. However, I flatter myself I have received
considerable benefit from the voyage, tedious and disgusting and vexatious as it
Las been. * * #

" You know when I left Scotland, I had determined at all events to become
a furious orientalist, " nemini secundus,''^ but I was not aware of the difficulty.
I found the expense of native teachers would prove almost insurmountable to a
mere assistant surgeon, whose pay is seldom equal to his absolutely necessary
expenses ; and, besides, that it was necessary to form a library of jMSS. at a
most terrible expense, in every language to which I should apply, if I intended
to proceed beyond a mere smattering. After much consideration, I determined
on this plan at all events, and was fortunate enough in a few months to secure
an appointment, ^vhich furnished me Avith the means of doing so, though the
tasks and exertions it imposed on me were a good deal more arduous than the
connnon duties of a surgeon even in a 3Iahratta campaign, I was appointed
medical assistant to the IMysore survey, and at the same time directed to carry
I on inquiries concerning the natural history of the country, and the manners

JOHN LEYDEN. 441

and languages, &c., of the natives of IMysore. This, you would imagine, was
the very situation I wished for, and so it Avould, had I previously had time to
acquire the country languages. But I had them now to acquire after severe
marches and counter-marches in the heat of the sun, night-marches and day-
marches, and amid the disgusting details of a field hospital, the duties of which
were considerably arduous. However, I wrought incessantly and steadily, and
without being discouraged by any kind of difficulty, till my health absolutely
gave Avay, and when I could keep the field no longer, I wrought on my couch,
as I generally do still, though I am much better than I have been. As I had
the assistance of no intelligent Europeans, I was obliged long to grope my May;
but I have now acquired a pretty correct idea of India in all its departments,
which increases in geometrical progression as I advance in the languages. The
languages that have attracted my attention since my ai-rival have been Ai-abic,
Persic, Hindostanee, Mahratta, Tamal, Telinga, Canara, Sanscrit, IMalayalam,
Malay, and Armenian. You will be ready to ask where I picked up these hard
names, but I assure you it is infinitely more difficult to pick up the languages
themselves; several of which include dialects as ditlerent from each other as
French or Italian from Spanish or Portuguese ; and in all these, I flatter my-
self, I have made considerable progress. What would you say, were I to add
the Maldivian and Mapella languages to these ? Besides, I have decyphered
the inscriptions of 3Iavalipoorani, A\hich were written in an ancient Canara
character that had hitherto defied all attempts at understanding it, and also
several Lada Lippi inscriptions, which is an ancient Tamal dialect and charac-
ter, in addition to the Jewish tablets of Cochin, which were in the ancient
IMalayalam, generally termed iMalabar. I enter into these details merely to
show you that I have not been. idle, and that my time has neither been dissi-
pated, nor devoid of plan, though that plan is not sufficiently unfolded. To
what I have told you of, you are to add constant and necessary exposure to the
sun, damps and dews from the jungles, and putrid exhalations of marshes, be-
fore I had been properly accustomed to the climate, constant rambling in the
haunts of tigers, leopards, bears, and serpents of 30 or 40 feet long, that make
nothing of swallowing a buft'alo, by way of demonstrating their appetite, in a
morning, together with smaller and more dangerous snakes, whose haunts are
dangerous, and bite deadly ; and you have a faint idea of a situation, in which,
with health, I lived as happy as the day was long. It was occasionally diversi-
fied with rapid jaunts of a hundred miles or so, as fast as horses or bearers could
carry me, by night or day, swimming tlu'ough rivers, afloat in an old brass ket-
tle, at midnight ! 0 ! I could tell you adventures to outrival the witch of Endor,
or any witch that ever swam in egg-shell or sieve ; but you would undoubtedly
imagine I wanted to impose on you were I to relate what I have seen and passed
through. No ! I certainly shall never repent of having come to India. It has
awakened energies in me that I scarcely imagined I possessed, though I could
gnaw my living nails with pure vexation to think how much I have been thwarts
ed by indisposition. If, however, I get over it, I shall think the better of my
constitution as long as I live. It is not every constitution that can resist the
combined attack of liver, spleen, bloody flux, and jungle fever, which is very
much akin to the plague of Egypt, and yellow fever of America. It is true I
have been five times given up by the most skilful physicians in these parts ; but
in spite of that, I am firmly convinced that " my doom is not to die this day."
You are to commend me kindly to your good motherly mother, and tell her I
Avish I saw her oftener, and then to your brother Alexander, and request him
sometimes, on a Saturday night, precisely at eight o'clock, for my sake, to play
'* Gingling Johnny" on his flageolet. If I had you both in my tent, you should

442 JOHN LEYDEN.

drink yourself drunk with wine of Shiraz, which is our eastern Falerniaii, in

honour of Ilafiz, our Persian Anacreon. As for nie, I often drink your health

in water, (ohon a reel) liaving long abandoned both wine and animal food, not

from choice, but dire necessity Adieu, dear Ballantyne, and believe me, in

the 3IalaY isle, to be ever yours sincerely, , , „

• ' •' ' John Lbtdex.

Leyden soon became reconciled to Fuloo Penang (or Prince of Wales Island),
where he found many valuable friends and enjoyed the regard of the late Philip
Dundas, l'"sq., then governor of the island. He resided in tliat island for some
lime, and visited Achi, willi some other places on the coasts of Sumatra, and the
Malayan peninsula. Here he amassed tlie curious information concerning the
language, literature, and descent of the Indi-Chinese tribes, which afterwards
enabled him to lay before the Asiatic Society at Calcutta a most valuable disser-
tation on so obscure a subject. Yet that his heart was sad, and his spirits de-
pressed, is evident from the following lines, written for new-year's day, 180G,
and which appeared in the Government Gazette of Prince of Wales Island.

INIalaya's woods and mountains ring

With voices strange and sad lo hear,
And dark unbodied spiiits sing

The dirge of the departed year.

Lo ! now, methinks, in tones sublime,

As viewless n'er our heads they bend,
They whisper, " Thus we steal your time.

Weak mortals, till y our days shall end."

Then wake the dance, and wake the song,

Resound the festive mirth arid glee ;
Alas ! the da}s have pass'd along,

The days we never more shall see.

But let me brush the nightly dews,

Beside the shell-depaiiited shore.
And mid the sea-weed sit to muse

On day s that shall return no more.

Olivia, ah ! forgive the bard,

If sprightly strains alone are dear ;
His notes are sad, for he has heard

The footsteps of^the parting year.

'Mid friends of youth beloved in vain,

Oft have I hailed the jocund day ;
If pleasure brougjit a thought of pain,

I charmed it with a passing lay.

Friends of my youth for ever dear.

Where are you from this bosom fled ?
A lonely man I linger here,

Like one that has been long time dead.

Foredoomed to seek an early fomb.

For whom the pallid grave-flowers blow,
I hasten on my destined doom,

And sternly mock at joy or woe !

In 1806, he took leave of Penang, regTetted by many friends, whom his ec-
centricities amused, his talents enlightened, and his virtues conciliated. His

JOHN LEYDEN. 443

reception at Calcutta, and the effect Avhich lie produced upon society there, aie
so aduiirably illustrated by his ingenious and well-knoAvn countryman. Sir John
Malcolm, that it Avould be impossible to pi-esent a more living picture of his
manners and mind, and the reader will pardon some repetition for the sake of
observing how the same individual ^vas regarded in two distant hemispheres.

" TO THE EDITOR OF THE BOMBAY COURIER,^

" It is not easy to convey an idea of the method which Dr Leyden used in
his studies, or to describe the unconquerable ardour with Avhich these were pur-
sued During his early residence in India, I had a particular opportunity of

observing both. When he read a lesson in Persian, a person near him, whom
he had taught, Avrote do\vn each Avord on a long slip of paper, which was after-
wards divided into as many pieces as there were words, and pasted in alphabeti-
cal order, under difterent heads of verbs, nouns, &c., into a blank book that
formed a vocabulary of each day's lesson. All this he had in a few hours in-
structed a very ignorant native to do ; and this man he used, in his broad ac-
cent, to call ' one of his mechanical aids.' Ke was so ill at fllysore, soon
after his arrival from England, that BIr Anderson, the surgeon who attended
him, despaired of his life ; but though all his friends endeavoured at this period
to prevail upon him to relax in his application to study, it was in vain. He
used, when unable to sit upright, to prop himself up with pillows, and continue
his translations. One day that I was sitting by his bedside, the surgeon came
in. — *I am glad you are here,' said Mr Anderson, addressing himself to me,
* you will be able to persuade Leyden to attend to my advice. I have told him
before, and now I repeat, that he will die if he does not leave off his studies
and remain quiet.' * Very well, doctor,' exclaimed Leyden, * you have done
your duty, but you must now hear me : / cannot be idle, and whether I die or
live, the wheel must go round till the last ;' and he actually continued, under
the depi-ession of a fever and a liver complaint, to study more than ten hours
each day.

" The temper of Dr Leyden was mild and generous, and he could bear with
perfect good humour, raillery on his foibles. When he arrived at Calcutta in
1805, I was most solicitous regarding his reception in the society of the Indian
capital. ' I entreat you, my dear friend,' I said to him the day he landed, ' to
be careful of the impression you make on your entering this community ; for
God's sake learn a little English, and be silent upon literary subjects, except
among literary men.' 'Learn English!' he exclaimed, 'no, never; it was
trying to learn that language that spoilt my Scotch ; and as to being silent, I
will promise to hold my tongue, if you will make fools hold theirs.'

" His memory ^vas most tenacious, and he sometimes loaded it with lumber.
When he was at Mysore, an argument occurred upon a point of English history ;
it was agreed to refer it to Leyden, and to the astonishment of all parties, he re-
peated verbatim the whole of an act of parliament in the reign of James relative

to Ireland, which decided the point in dispute On being asked how he came

to charge his memory with such extraordinary matter, he said that several
years before, when he was writing on the changes that had taken place in the
English language, this act was one of the documents to which he had referred
as a specimen of the style of that age, and that he had retained every word in
his memory.

" His love of the place of his nativity was a passion in which he had always
a pride, and which in India he cherished with the fondest enthusiasm. I once

1 We omit the earlier portion of this letter referring lo the general character ami manners
of Lej den.

444 JOHN LEYDEN.

«eiit to see him when he w.is very ill, aiul ha<l been confined to Iiis bed for
many days; tlicrc were several f;enlkMuen in llie room; he inquired if 1 had
nny news ; I told liim I had a letter from llskdale ; and \\hat are tlioy about in
the borders? he asked. A curious circumstance, 1 replied, is staled in my let-
ter; and I read him a i>assage which described the conduct of our volunteers on
a iire being kindled by mistake at one of the beacons. This letter mentioned
that the moment the blaze, which was the signal of invasion, was seen, the moun-
taineers hastened to their rendezvous, and those of Liddesdale swam the Liddle
river to reach it. — They were assembled (though several of their houses were at a
distance of six and seven miles,) in two hours, and at break of day the party
marched into the town of Hawick (at a distance of twenty miles from the place
of assembly,) to the border tune of ' JVha daiir meddle wi' me ? ' Leyden's coun-
tenance became animated as I proceeded with this detail, and at its close he
sj)rung from liis sick-bed, and, with much strange melody, and still stranger
gesticulations, sung aloud, ' Wha daur meddle wi'' me ? wha daur meddle wi'' me ? '
— Several of those who witnessed this scene looked at him as one that was raving
in tlie delirium of a fever.

" These anecdotes will display more fully tlian any description I can give,
the lesser shades of the character of this extraordinary man. An external man-
ner, certainly not agreeable, and a disposition to egotism, were his only defects.
How trivial do these ajtpcar, at a moment when we are lamenting the loss of such
a rare combination of virtues, learning, and genius, as were concentrated in the

Inte Dr Leyden ! t t»t m

•' John IMalcolm.

We have little, to add to General Malcolm's luminous and characteristic sketch.
The efficient and active patronage of Lord Blinto, himself a man of letters, a
poet, and a native of Teviotdale, was of the most essential importance to Leyden,
and no less honourable to the governor-general. Leyden's first appointment as
a professor in the Bengal college might appear the sort of promotion best suited
to his studies, but was soon exchanged for that of a judge of the twenty-four
Purgunnabs of Calcutta. In this capacity he had a charge of police which
"jumped with his humour well ;" for the task of pursuing and dispersing the
bands of robbers who infest Bengal had something of active and military duty.
He also exercised a judicial capacity among the natives, to the discharge of
Avhich he was admirably fitted, by his knowledge of their language, manners,
and customs. To this office a very considerable yearly income was annexed.
This was neither expended in superfluities, nor even in those ordinary expenses
which the fashion of the East has pronounced indispensable ; for Dr Leyden kept
no establishment, gave no entertainments, and was, with the receipt of this
revenue, the very same simple, frugal, and temperate student, which he had been
at Edinburoh. But, exclusive of a portion remitted home for the most honour-
able and ])ious purpose, his income was devoted to the pursuit which engaged
his whole soul ; to the increase, namely, of his acquaintance with eastern litera-
ture in all its branches. The expense of native teachers, of every country and
dialect, and that of procuring from every quarter oriental manuscripts, engrossed
his whole emoluments, as the task of studying under the tuition of the interpre-
ters, and dei;yphering the contents of the volumes, occupied every moment of
his spare time. " I may die in the attempt," he writes to a friend, " but if I
die without surpassing Sir William Jones a hundred fold in oriental learning,
let never a tear for me profane the eye of a borderer.'' The term was soon ap-
pi-oaching when these regrets were to be bitterly called forth, both from his
Scottish friends, and from all who viewed with interest the career of his ardent
and enthusiastic genius, which, despising every selfish consideration, was only

JOHN LEYDEN. 443

eaoer to secure the fruits of knowledge, and held for sufficient reward the fame
of having gathered them.

Dr Leyden accompanied the governor-general upon the expedition to Java,
[August 1811] for the purpose of investigating the manners, language, and litera-
ture of the tribes which inhabit that island, and partly also because it was thought
his extensive knowledge of the eastern dialects and customs might be useful in
settling the government of the country, or in communicating with the indepen-
dent princes in the neighbourhood of the Dutch settlements. His spirit of ro-
mantic adventure led him literally to rush upon death ; for, with another volun-
teer who attended tlie expedition, he threw himself into the surf, in order to be
the first Briton of the expedition Avho should set foot upon Java, When the
success of the well-concerted movements of the infaders had given them posses-
sion of the town of Batavia, Leyden displayed the same ill-omened precipitation
in his haste to examine a library in whicli many Indian manuscripts of value were
said to be deposited. A library, in a Dutch settlement, was not, as might have
been expected, in the best order, the apartment had not been regularly venti-
lated, and, either from this circumstance, or already affected by the fatal sick-
ness peculiar to Batavia, Leyden, when he left the place, had a fit of shivering,
and declared the atmosphere was enough to give any mortal a fever. The pre-
sage was too just ; he took his bed, and died in three days [August 28], on the
eve of the battle which gave Java to the British empire.

Thus died John Leyden, in the moment, perhaps, most calculated to gratify
the feelings which were dear to his heart ; upon the very day of military glory,
and when every avenue of new and interesting discovery was opened to his pene-
trating research. In the emphatic words of Scripture, " the bowl was broken at the
fountain." His literary remains were intrusted by his last will to the charge of Mr
Heber, and Dr Hare of Calcutta, his executors. They are undei-stood to contain
two volumes of poetry, with many essays on oriental and general literature. His
remains, honoured with every respect by lord Minto, now repose in a distant
land, far from the green-sod graves of his ancestors at Hazeldean, to which, with
a natural anticipation of such an event, he bids an affecting farewell in the solemn
passage which concludes the Scenes of Infancy.

The silver moon, at midnight cold and still,
Looks, sad and silent, o'er yon western hill ;
While large and pale the ghostly structures grow,
Reared on the confines of the world below.
Is that dull sound the hum of Teviot's strtani ?
Is that blue light the moon's or tomb-fire's gleam.
By which a mouldering pile is faintly seen,
The old deserted church of Hazeldean,
Where slept my fathers in their natal clay,
Till Teviot's waters roU'd their bones away?
Their feeble voices from the stream they raise,
" Hash youth! unmindful of thy early days.
Why didst thou quit the peasant's simple lot ?
Why didst thou leave the peasant's turf-built cot,
The ancient graves, where all thy fathers lie,
And Teviot's stream, that long has murmured by ?
And we — when Death so long has closed our eyes
How wilt thou bid us from the dust arise,
And bear our mouldering bones across the main, •
From vales, that knew our lives devoid of stain?
Rash youth! beware, thy home-bred virtues save,
And sweetly sleep in thy paternal grave !"

446 DR. DUNCAN LTDDEL.

Such is tlie lannruage of nature, moved by the kindly associations of country
and of kindred alKcctions. Hut the best epitapli is the story of a life engaged in
the practice of virtue and the pursuit of honourable knowledge ; the best monu-
ment, the regret of the uorlhy and of the wise ; and the rest may be sunmied up
in tlie sentiment of Sannazario,

Ilaca'uie te fcssum tellus cxtrema manubat
Hos|))iii post lot tcrraique marisque laborcs?
Pone tiuncn gemitus, iiuc to inoimmenla pareiitum
Aut movcant sperata luis tibi fuiiera regnis,
Grata quies patrio; ; sccl et omiiis terra seiiulchium.

To this eloquent and highly picturesque memoir, upon which we have drawn so
largely, it is only to be added ; that the Poetical Remains of Dr Leyden were pub-
lished in one volume Svo, in 1819, with a memoir by the Rev. James 3Iorton ; and
that another posthumous work, entitled IMenioirs of the Emperor Baber, and com-
meriiorating for the first time an Indian hero little inferior to Cajsar or Napoleon,
but, heretofore, totally unknown in Europe, in which he had had the co-opera-
tion of his friend, 3Ir William Erskine, appeared at Edinburgh in 182G.

LIDDEL, (Dr) Duncan, a physician of eminence, was born in Aberdeen in
the year 1561, and was son to a respectable citizen of that town.' He re-
ceived his education at the schools, and the university of King's college, in his
native city. In the year 1579, at the early age of eighteen, he visited the con-
tinent, passing over to Dantzic, whence he travelled tiirough Poland to Frank-
fort on the Oder, where he had the good fortune to meet with a beneficent
countryman, Dr John Craig, afterwards physician to James VI., who then taught
logic and mathematics. His views, which were previously wavering, ivere fixed
by the kind attention and assistance of his friend, who enabled him to study
mathematics, philosophy, and medicine, for three years in the nniversity of
Frankfort, where Craig was himself a professor. In 1582, Craig proposing to
return to Scotland, his pupil proceeded to prosecute his studies at Breslaw in
Silesia, under the conduct of a statesman at that period of considerable note —
Andreas Dudithius, to whose attention his zealous countryman had recommended
him. In this new sphere of exertion, he is said to have made extensive pro-
gress in his favourite study of the mathematics, under the tuition of professor
Paulus Wittichius. After spending some^vhat more than a year at Breslaw, he
returned to Frankfort, where he again turned his attention to medicine, and
commenced a course of private tuition in mathematics and philosophy. A con-
tagious distemper which broke out at Frankfort in 1587, dispersing the students
in various directions, induced him to change his place of residence for the cele-
brated university of Rostock. Here he appears to have first acquired celebrity
for his professional knowledge and conversational information, and particularly
for his knowledge of astronomy and mathematics. He became the companion
and pupil of Brucasus, a physician and philosopher of Flanders, who, although
the senior of Liddel, both in years and celebrity, acknowledges himself to have
received much useful information and assistance from the young philosopher,
while Caselius, another companion and friend of Liddel, pays a tribute to the
comprehensiveness of his genius and reading, by remarking that " he was the
first person in Germany who explained the motions of the heavenly bodies,

> Inscription on a brass plate, in the church of St Nicholas, Aberdeen; Sketch of the Life
of Dr Duncin Liddel, Aberdeen. 1790. This pamphlet, miderstood to have been wril ten by
the late Mr John Stewart, professor of Greek in Mai ischal college, gives so accurate and concise
an account of its subject, that little can be added. We are aware of but one work having
any reference to Liddel, which has been overlooked. The Literee ad Joannem Kepplerum
contain one or two letters from him.

DR. DUNCAN LIDDEL. 447

according to the three different hypotheses of Ptolemy, Copernicus, and Tycho
Brahe."

The illustrious individual last mentioned, had likewise studied at the uni-
versity of Rostock : it is probable that the pursuits of the two philosophers
brought them into contact, and the author of the Biography of Liddel, considers
it sufficiently established, that they were intimate with each other in after life,
and that the Danish philosopher frequently visited the subject of our memoir in
his journeys to Scotland. There is, however, a shadow of authority for suppos-
ing" that Liddel held the higher rank of an opponent of Tycho Brahe, and
maintained a disputation with him on equal terms. The eccentric Sir Thomas
Urquhart, who, whatever information he may have chosen to receive on the
subject, certainly was enabled to have made himself master of the true state of
the circumstances which he related, says, " These mathematical blades put me
in mind of that Dr Liddel, who for his profoundness in those sciences of sensi-
ble immaterial objects, was every where much renowned, especially at Frank.
fort de Main, Frankfort on the Oder, and Heidelberg, where he was almost as
well known as the monstrous bacchanalian tun that stood there in his time.
He was an eminent pi-ofessor of mathematics, a disciple of the most excellent as-
tronomer Tycho Brahe, and condisciple of that worthy Longoniontanus : yet in
imitation of Aristotle, (whose doctrine with great proficiency he had imbued,) he
esteemed more of truth than either of Socrates or Plato ; when the new star began
to appear in the constellation of Cassiopaeia, there was concerning it such an
intershocking of opinions betwixt Tycho Brahe and Dr Liddel, evulged in print
to the open view of the world, that the understanding reader could not but have
commended both for all ; and yet (in giving each his due) praised Tycho Brahe
most for astronomy, and Liddel for his knowledge above him in all the other
parts of philosophy." It is not improbable that the imaginative author of the
Jewel may have thought proper, without much inquiry, to bestow on a person
born in his own near neighbourhood, the merit of a conflict in which a Scots-
man, whose name may not have then been known, was engaged ; at the same
time adding to the lustre of the achievements of his countryman. The author
of the Life of Dr Liddel observes, ** Upon what authority this circumstance is
founded cannot be discovered, for there is no mention of it in either of the very
full accounts of the life and writings of Tycho Brahe, by Gassendi and Mon-
tucla, nor in a large volume written by Tycho himself, concerning this new
star ; although he there animadverts at great length upon the opinions of many
other astronomers, who had also treated of it. Nor could any such controversy
have possibly happened at the time mentioned by Sir Thomas Urquhart, for the
new star there spoken of was observed by Tycho Brahe in 1572, and the ac-
count of it published in 1573, when Dr Liddel was only twelve years of age.
There is indeed in the volume of Astronomical epistles of Tycho Brahe, a long
letter from him to his friend Rothmannus, chiefly filled with severe reflections
upon the publications of a certain Scotsman against his account of the comet of
1577, not of the new star in Cassiopaeia ; but it appears from Gassendi that
this Scottish writer was Dr Craig, formerly mentioned, and not Dr Liddel."
When Ave recollect that Liddel andtCraig, as intimate literary associates, may
have imbibed the same theories, and similar methods of stating them, this last
circumstance approaches a solution of the difficulty.

In the university of Rostock Liddel received the degree of master of philoso-
phy, and in 1590, he left it to return to Frankfort, at the request of two young
Livonians of rank, to whom it is probable he acted as tutor. He did not long
remain at P'rankfort on his second visit, having heard of the rising fame of the

* On theauUiorily of Caseh'us's dedication to Craig, and tlie fimeral oration on Liddel.

448 DR. DUNCAN LIDDEL.

new "Acidemia Julia," founded at Ilelnistadt by Henry Julius, duke of Bruns-
wick in I 37G. Here he attcoinpanird his luipiis, and \vas restored to the com-
pany of liis old friend Caselius, whom the duke had invited to liis youthful es-
tablishniont.

In 1 oil 1 , Liddel, by the reconniiendation of bis friend, and of (ininefeldt,
an eminent civilian, was a}»i)ointed to tiic lower jtrofessorsiiip of niatheiiiatics
in the new iniivei-sity, as successor to Parcovius, who had been removed to the
faculty of medicine ; and, on the death of Juhardus Hoffman in 151)4, lie suc-
ceeded to the first, or higher malhemati(;al chair. 'Ihis eminent station he
filled during the course of nine years, giving instructions in geometry, astrono-
my, and universal geography, and keeping the information he communicated
to his p'ipils, on a level witii tlie dawning progress of discovery. In 159(5, he
obtained the degree of doctor in medicine, and, in n. science which was not at
that period considered as so completely abstracted from the circle of general
knowledge as its practical extent now compels it to be, lie acquired the same
celebrity which he had acliieved in philosophy and mathematics. He is said by
his lectures and writings to have proved the chief support of the medical sciiool
of Helmstadt ; he acted as first physician to the court of Brunswick, and en-
joyed a lucrative private practice among the opulent families in the neighbour-
hood. In 1599, he was elected dean of the faculty of philosophy, a post of
honour to which he was frequently re-elected, both by the faculties of philoso-
phy and of medicine. IMean while, in the year 1G03, he resigned to Henricus
Schaperus the chair of mathematics, of which he had remained occupant, not-
withstanding his labours in another science; and in the year following, he was
chosen pro-rector of the university. The method of studying his profession,
and his courses of public tuition had already made Liddel an author of no in-
considerable extent, and, about this period, the fame he had acquired probably
indu<;ed him to present the academical Avorks which he had written or superin-
tended, in a distinct manner before the world. In 1605, was published " Dis-
putationes Medicinales Duncani Liddelii Scoti, Phil, et Med. Uoctoris, et
Professoris Publicl in Academia Julia Helmsestadtii. This work, filling four
voIumes*4to. contains the theses or public disputations maintained by himself
and his pupils at Helmstadt from 1592 to 1G06 ; it is dedicated as a mark of
gratitude to his early friend and patron Craig, accompanied by the usual mul-
titude of commendatory verses on the author and his works. This book is
mentioned by the author of the memoirs of Liddel as having been reprinted at
so late a period as 1720. In 1607, he produced a better known work, " Ars
Medica, succincte et perspicue explicata," published at Hamburg. This work
was dedicated to king James. A second edition was published at Lyons in
1624, and a third at Hamburg in 1628. As in other works on medicine of
the period, the range of the author's investigation was not confined to subjects
to which the term medical would now exclusively refer ; metaphysics were in-
cluded. Into the merit of this, as a work on practical medicine, it would now
be useless to inquire, and we may be content with ranking the merit of the au-
thor, according to the estimation of the work during the 17th century, which
was by no means inconsiderable. At the time Avhen the last mentioned work
was published, motives which Ave cannot noAV discover, induced Liddel to retire
for the remainder of his life to his native country, Avhich he had frequently
visited during his honoured residence abroad. It Avould appear that he private-
ly left the university, as Caselius remarks that the duke of BrunsAvick, if aware
of his intention, Avould probably not have permitted so active a teacher to leave
his favourite institution, Avhich was then falling into confusion. On his return,
he passed through Germany and Italy, and finally took up his residence in

SIR DAVID LINDSAY. 440

Scotland, altliough in what part of the country seems not to be known, the
earliest information obtained as to his locality being of the year 1612, when he
subscribed at Edinburgh a deed of settlement, mortifying certain lands in the
neighbourhood of Aberdeen, for the support of six bursars in Marischal college.
The magistrates of Aberdeen were appointed trustees for the application of the
fund, and according to a not unusual practice, the curse of God was denounced
against any one Avho should abuse or misapply it.^ By a settlement dated the
9th December, 1613, he confirmed the previous donation, and left for the es-
tablishment of a professorship of mathematics in Marischal college the sum of
6000 merks, which was afterwards profitably laid out on land by the trustees.
To the same institution he left his books and instruments. This may be con-
sidered the last performance of his active life, for he died eight days after its
date, on the* 17th of December, 1613. He was buried in the church of St
Nicholas in Aberdeen, where a tablet of brass, on which his portrait has been
boldly and expressively engraved by an artist at Antwerp, was erected to his
memory. He is likewise commemorated by a small obelisk erected in the lands
of Pitmedden, near Aberdeen — the same which he mortified for the support of
bursars. Dying unmarried, the children of a brother and sister inherited his
property, and one of the former succeeded Dr William Johnston (brother to
Arthur the poet) in the mathematical chair which Dr Liddel had founded.

Besides the literary efforts already mentioned, a posthumous work by Liddel
was published at Hamburg in 1628, entitled " Tractatus de dente aureo;" be-
ing an answer to a Tractate by Jacobus llorstius, who had maintained the verity
of a fable, which bore tliat a boy of Silesia who had lost a tooth, received from
nature, in return, one of pure gold. The circumstance was considered an omen
to encourage the Germans in their wars Avith the Turks, and predicative of the
downfall of the Mahometan faith. The subject can be interesting only to those
who study the extent of human credulity.

LINDSAY, (Sib) DA\^D, a celebrated Scottish poet of the sixteenth century,
was born about the year 1490. He is distinguished by the title "of the
Mount," from the name of his family seat near Cupar in Fife, and which is
presumed, though not certainly known, to have been also the place of his birth.
The early part of his education he received at Cupar, the after part of it at St
Andrews, to which he removed in 1505. Here he remained till 1509. From
this period till 1512, there is a hiatus in his history, and it is not known how
the intermediate space was employed. In that year, however, he is found to
be in attendance upon the young prince, afterwards James V., who was born on
the 10th of April, 1512. The particular nature of his appointment, on first set-
tling at court, cannot be ascertained ; but it does not appear to have been of a
very dignified description. His attendance on the infant monarch seems also
to have been divided with the royal parent James IV., on whom he is found wait-
ing as a special servant, on the remarkable occasion of the feigned spectre's ap-
pearance before that prince in the chapel of Linlithgow in 1513. Lindsay stood
close beside the king during the whole of that extraordinary scene, and ac-
cording to his namesake, the historian, declared that he, along with the other
servants in attendance, made several ineffectual attempts to take hold of the
ghostly intruder.

The death of James IV., which took place soon after, does not appear to have
affected Lindsay's situation at court. He still continued his attendance on the
young prince, and this in rather a singular capacity, considering the respecta.

» In a minute of the council Records of Aberdeen, of date 6th December, 1C38, it is or-
dained that Dr Liddel's bursars shall wear a black bonnet and a black gown, both in the col-
lege and in the street, conform to the will of the niortifier, under the pain of deprivation.

450 SIR DAVID LINDSAY.

bility of his family, although probably it may be thought that there was no degra-
dation, if indeed it was not a positive honour, to take tlie personal charge of an
infant king. This, however, he seems to have done literally, and as is gathered
from passages in his own works, much in the character of a dry nurse. The
following are amongst those alluded to. The lines occur in the dedication of
his poem entitled the "Dream" to the king:

Qulien thou was young I bore thee in my armc,
Full tenderlie till thou begoulh to gang;
And in thy bed .ifl happit thee full warme,
Witli lute in liand, sine sweitly to thee sang.

And again at an after period, when complaining of the neglect \>'hich lie met
with at court, he thus reminds the king of the days of his childhood, and of the
playful and tender kindnesses which then passed between them :

How as ane chapman beiris his pack,
I bure thy grace upon my back ;
And sometimes strjdlingcs on my neck,
Dansand with mony bend and beck.
The first syllabis that thou did mute
Was pa, da s\ne, upon the lute ;
Then plaj it I twenty springis pcrquier,
Quhilke was great pleasure for to heir ;
Fra play thou let me never rest,
Bot Gynkertoun thou luifit ay best.

Lindsay's attendance on the young king was not dignified by any charge
whatever, connected with his education. His services were entirely of a pei-
sonal nature, and were only put in requisition when the royal youth returned
from " scale." James's education was intrusted to Gavin Dunbar, an eminent
and learned prelate, so that, with all Lindsay's genius, he seems not to have been
thought competent to this important and honourable trust. That which he fil-
led, however, such as it was, he retained till the year, 1524, Avhen he was dis-
missed from it, by the intrigues of the queen mother, who, aiming at the sole
direction of the national affairs during the minority of the king, carefully re-
moved from the royal presence all whom she feared might exert an influence
over the young monarch inimical to her own views and interests, and amongst
that number she seems to have reckoned the poet. His dismissal, however,
seems by no means to have taken place with the king's consent, although it is
evident that he was obliged to submit to it. He was too young to assert his
own will in opposition to that of his mother, but he did the next best thing he
could for the kind companion of his tender years, — he procured a pension to
be bestowed upon him, and took especial care of its punctual payment.

On the. king's assuming the reins of government in his own person, and
when his will could be no longer opposed, Lindsay was recalled to court, and
about 1530, was appointed lyon king at arms, and as a necessary accompani-
ment, invested with the honour of knighthood. In the dedication of the
" Dream" to the king, already quoted from, and which was written during the
time of his banishment from court, although he complains of the treatment which
he had received, he not only acquits the king of having any part in inflicting
it, but speaks in terms of the warmest gratitude of the kindness of his royal
master. He seems, indeed, to have formed a strong personal attachment to the
monarch, and there is every reason to believe that it was reciprocal. Lindsay
had now begun to make some figure as a poet. He liad already written the

SIR DAVID LINDSAY. 451

" Dream" and the " Coraplaynt," both productions of great merit ; but it was
to his talent for satire, a quality which he had not yet exhibited, that he was
chiefly indebted for the singular degree of popularity which he afterwards ac-
quired. Of tlie felicity and point with which he could exercise this dan<^erous
gift, the following curious instance is related by Dr Irving in his Life of the
poet : — " The king being one day surrounded by a numerous train of nobility
and prelates, Lindsay approached him with due reverence, and began to prefer
an humble petition that lie would install him in an office which Mas then vacant.
* I have,' said he, ' servit your grace lang, and luik to be rewardit as others
are, and now your maister taylor, at the pleasure of God is departit, wherefore
I wald desire of your Grace to bestow tliis little benefite upon nie.' The king
replied, that he was amazed at such a x-equest from a man who could neitlier
shape nor sew. * Sir,' rejoined the poet, * that niaks nae matter, for you have
given bishopricks and benefices to mony standing here about you, and yet they
can nouther teach nor preach, and why not I as weill be your taylor, though I
can nouther shape nor sew, seeing teaching and preaching are nae less requisite
to their vocation than shaping and sewing to ane taylor.' The effect of this
well managed jeu d'esprit upon the bystanders, many of whom came within its
range, may be readily conceived. Whatever might be their feelings on the
subject, James himself enjoyed it greatly, and found much amusement in contem-
plating the angry looks which it occasioned."

This and other witticisms at the expense of the clergy, are supposed by
Lindsay's biographers to have been the pi'incipal cause of that want of promo-
tion of which he so frequently complains ; but this seems doubtful. James him-
self had but little reverence for the clergy, and it is not thei'efore likely that he
would be displeased with Lindsay for entertaining similar sentiments. Of the
king's opinion of the holy men of his time his answer to a deputation of them
which waited upon him with a list of protestant peers and chiefs, whom they
desired might be brought to punishment, is sufficiently indicative. " Pack, ye
jugglers," said he, " get ye to your charges and reform your own lives ; be not
instruments of discord between my nobility and me ; or I vow to God I shall re-
form you, not as the king of Denmark by imprisonment, nor as he of England
by hanging- and beheading, but yet by most severe punishments, if ever such mo-
tion proceed from you again," It is not, therefore, easy to say, considering the
intimate, nay familiar footing on which Lindsay stood with the king, what were
the causes that afforded him grounds for his frequent complaints, if indeed, he
had any at all that were reasonable, a point by no means made evident.
Whatever might be the emoluments arising from his services, they were now oc-
casionally of a sufficiently dignified and important nature. In 1531, he was
despatched on an embassy to Antwerp to renew an ancient commercial treaty
with the Netherlands, and in 1548, he was sent to the court of Denmark to
solicit ships to protect the Scottish coast against the English, and to negotiate a
free trade in grain for the Scottish merchants.

Besides being a man of genius, Lindsay was also a man of great practical
good sense, if the latter be not indeed a necessary attribute of the former,
and this enabled him to see in a peculiarly strong and clear light the errors and
absurdities, if not inherent in, at least which had been then engrafted on, the
church of Rome, and against these he directed the whole force of his satirical
powers, and with an effect which rendered him at once extremely formidable to
the clergy, and singularly popular with the great bulk of the people.

Of his talent for ridicule the following exquisitely humorous specimen of his
manner of dealing with the impositions of the Romish church will give a correct
idea. It is the speech of a pardoner — of one who dealt in miracles and traded

452 SIR DAVID LINDSAY,

in lioly rvVu-s and absolutions. It occurs in his play entitled *' Ane Satyre of
the Thrie Estaitis :"'

My potent pardonnis yc may so
Cum frae the Can of TarUirie,

Weill scillil Nvith ester SchcUis.
Thocht ) c half no discretiuuii,
Ye sail half full remissiouii,

Willi help of buikis and bellis.
Heir is a rellik lang and braid,
Of FynmaokowU the riehtchaft bladr,

With teilh and all togiddor ;
Of CoUingis Kow heir is a home, —
For eitting of Makameillis come

Was slane into Baquhidder ;
Heir is the cordis baith grit and lang
Quhilk hangit Johnnie Arniistrang,

Of gude hempt saft and sound:
Gude haly pepill, I stand ford,
Quhaeir beis hangit in this cord,

Neidis never to be drowned.
The culum of St Erjddis cow,
The gruntill of Sanct Antonis sow,

Quhilk bure his iialy bell:
Quha evir heiris this btll dink
Gife me a ducc;it to the driidic.

He Sidl ni!vir gang till hell —
"Without he be with Belliall borne.
Maisteris, trew ye that this be scornc ?

Cum, win this pardon, cum !
Quha luivis thair wy vis not with tJiair hairt
1 half power thame to depairt;

]\Ie think )ou deif and dum.
Hcs nane of } ou curst wicket w} vis
That haldis jou into sturt and str) vis I

Cum take my dispensatiouii ;
Of that cummer I sail mak you quyf,
Howbeid yourself be in the wy te,

And mak ane fals narratioun.
Cum win the pardone, now let see
For mtill, for malt, or for money ;

For cok, hen, guse, or gryss.
Of rellikkis heir I half a hunder,
Quhy cum ye not ? This is a wonder ;

I trow } c be not w}ss.

From tills it will be plainly seen what a dangerous and powerful ene-
my the Romish church had to contend with in the person of Lindsay

infinitely more dangerous and more powerful than the ablest preacher or the
most acute reasoner. The effect, indeed, aided as it was, by tlie circumstance of
the public mind being already attuned to such feelings and sentiments regard-
ing religious matters, was altogether irresistible ; and tiiere is no doubt that this
and similar productions of the satirist, tended more to the accomplishment of tlie
final overthrow of popery in Scotland than any other circumstance previous to
the Reformation. Lindsay himself was the Burns of his day. His poems were
in every mouth, and were equally appreciated in the cottage as in the castle.

JOHN LINDSAY. 453

Among the lower orders he was especially popular. His broad liumour de-
lighted them beyond measure, and there was scarcely one of them but could re-
peat large portions of" Davie Lindsay" from memory. Indeed it is not yet a
very great while since his popularity among this class began to fade. Nor,
though now certainly fast losing ground, is he by any means yet entirely for-
gotten in the country. Many an ancient tiller of the soil, and his equally an-
cient better half — for what remains of his fame is more vigorous in the country
than the town — still cherish and appreciate the merits of their old favourite native
poet.

The dread and detestation in which Lindsay's satirical poems were held by
the clergy is expressively enough indicated by their having procured an act to
have his " buick " burned during the regency of Mary of Lorraine, when they
had regained a temporary ascendancy under that princess, and a wonder arises
that Lindsay himself was not subjected to a similar fate ; indeed, that he es-
caped it at all is a circumstance not easily accounted for.

During his lifetime many unfortunate persons were brought to the stake
for lieresy, and for contemning the ordinances of the existing religion, and how
it happened that he, incomparably the most dangerous and most notorious of-
fender of them all should have escaped, is a question that may well be asked ;
but we suspect it is one which cannot be satisfactorily answered, otherwise than
by supposing that he was protected by the strong arm of royalty.

In 1537, Lindsay acted as sort of master of ceremonies on the occasion of
the arrival in Scotland of Mary of Guise, queen of James V. He contrived a
variety of pageants, and prepared orations for the reception of her majesty at St
Andrews, and superintended in person the execution of his designs. Sonie of
them were absurd and fantastic enough, but they were, of course, in accordance
with the taste of the times.

Of the concluding years of his life nothing is known, nor is it ascertained
when or where he died. Dr Irving states that he survived till the year 1567 ;
but how long he lived after is unknown. He must, however, from this account,
have been at least upwards of seventy years of age at the time of his death.
Lindsay's merits as a poet are not of the very highest order. Broad humour
was his forte, and the specimen given w ill sufficiently show, that when he trusted
to tliis talent he did not trust to a broken reed. His principal pieces are " The
Dreme," " The Complaynt," " The Complaynt of the King's Fapingo," " Satyre
on tlie Thrie Estaitis," " Answer to the King's Flyting," and " The Complaynt
of Basche the King's Hound."

LINDSAY, John, eighteenth earl of Crawford, and fourth earl of Lindsay,
was born on the 4th of October, 1702. Hq was the eldest son of John, seven-
teenth earl of Crawford, by Emilia, daughter of James, lord Doune, and grand-
daughter to the duchess of Lauderdale. His mother having died while he was
yet an infant, he was committed to the charge of an elderly female domestic
at the family seat of Struthers, in Fife ; his father, who was at this time captain
of the second troop of horse grenadiers, and lieutenant-genei-al of queen Anne's
forces, residing constantly in London.

His lordship in after-life, has been frequently heard to repeat an interesting
anecdote which occurred about this period of iiis life. The duke of Argyle and
the duke of Hamilton were one day dining with his father. After dinner a
warm debate ensued about the then all-engrossing topic, the union. In the
midst of it, the duke of Argyle caught up the young earl, then a child,
who was playing about the room ; placed him on the table in the midst of the
crowd of bottles and glasses by which it was occupied, and, after contemplating
tlie boy for an instant, " Crawford," he said, addressing his father, " if this

454 JOHN LINDSAY.

boy lives, I wonder whether he will be of your sentiments." — " If he has a drop
of r.iy blood in his veins,'' replied the earl, " ho cerl.iinly will." — "I warrant,
at any rate, ho will make a brave fellow," said Argyle, kissing the child, and
placing him again on tlie floor.

In 17-13, his lonlsliip succeeded, by tiio death of his father, to the family
titles and estates, and was soon after invited, togctlier with a. younger and only
brother and two sisters, by tiie duchess of Argyle, tlieir grand-aunt, to take up
their residence witli her in the Iliglilands, where slie tiien lived in retirement.
Here he remained until he had attained a prop:ir age for college, Avhen he
was sent to tiie university of (ilasgow. His biograplier, Holt, informs us, that
while residing with tlie ducliess of Argyle, the young earl had fallen desperate-
ly in love with a little Highland girl ; but he unfortunately gives no account of
the progress or termination of this boyisli attachment. Tbe circumstance, how-
ever, artbrds an early indication of tlio warm, chivalrous, and romantic disposi-
tion for which his lordship was afterwards so much distinguished.

AVhile at the university he rendered himself famous amongst his fellow stu-
dents by his boldness and courage. He led them on in all their battles with
the citizens, headed every expedition of difiiculty or danger, and stood forward
on all occasions as the champion of the college, when any of its members were
injured or insulted, or conceived themselves to be so. He, in short, took the
whole burden of the university's honour on his own shoulders, and guarded
and protected it with the most watchful zeal and uncompromising intre-
pidity.

From the college of Glasgow he went to that of Edinburgh, Avhere he re-
mained for some time, and then returned to the retirement of the duchess
of Argyle in the Highlands. Here he no^v prosecuted his studies under the
tuition of a private preceptor, and continued this course until he attained his
nineteenth year.

On arriving at this age, it was thought proper that he should, agreeably to
the usual practice in the cases of young men of rank and fortune, proceed to
the continent, at once to complete his education, and to improve himself by
travel. With this view, he set out in the year 1721, first for London, where he
remained for a short time, and thereafter to Paris. Here he entered the
academy of Vaudeuil, and continued to attend that seminary during the two suc-
ceeding years. His progress in learning, and in the acquisition of every
elegant accomplishment while he resided in the French capital, was so re-
markable, as to excite a strong feeling of respect for his talents amongst
his fellow academicians, who saw him surpassing many students of much longer
standing, and attaining an eminence which left him few competitors. In horae-
raanship, fencing, and dancing, he was considered, even in the refined city of
Paris, to be without a rival.

In 1723, he quitted the academy rf Vaudeuil, but continued to reside in
France till 1726. In the same year in which his lordship left the seminary just
named, an incident occurred strongly illustrative of his daring and determined
character. Amongst the other sights exhibited during the festivities which were
held in celebration of the accession of the young French king, was that of drawing
one of the fish ponds in the gardens of Versailles. The earl of Crawford was
amongst the crowd assembled to witness this novelty. In pressing forward to
the edge of the water to obtain a sight of the young monarch, he Avas rudely
jostled by a French marquis. Irritated by this incivility, the earl instantly
caught up the Frenchman, who was in full court dress, in his arms, and tossed
him, robes, and feathers, and all, into the middle of the fish pond. The specta-
tors, highly delighted with the unexpected exhibition, burst iuto immoderate fits

JOHN LINDSAY. 455

of laughter, in whicli they ueie cordially joined by the young king himself, who
eagerly inquired who the person Avas that had thrown the marquis into the
water. The latter himself did not think fit to take any notice of the affair
eitiier at tha time or at any after period.

In 172G, his lordship returned to Britain, acknowledged by all to be one of
the most accomplished gentlemen of the age. On the 25th of December of the
same year, he obtained a captain's commission in one of the additional troops of
the 2nd regiment of royal Scots Greys. This appointment he held till 1730,
when, these troops being disbanded, he again repaired to the duchess of Argyle's
residence in the Highlands, and remained there for the next eighteen months.
In January, 1732, he once more left this retirement to mingle with the world,
being appointed to the command of a troop of the 7 th, or Queen's own regi-
ment of dragoons. He Avas also, iii the same month, elected one of the sixteen
representatives of the Scottish peerage, in place of the earl of Loudon deceased.
This honour was again conferred upon him at the general elections in the years
1734, 1741, and 1747.

In the month of June, 1733, his lordship was appointed gentleman of the
bed-chnmber to the prince of Wales. On tiie I8ih of February, in the year
folloAving, he obtained the captain-lieutenancy of the 1st regiment of foot-
guards, and on the 1st of October in the same year, a company of the 3d foot
guards. Notwithstanding these various appointments, the earl, who entertained
from his youngest years a strong passion for military fame, finding his life but
an inactive one, and the English service unlikely at the time to present him with
any opportunity of distinguishing himself, sought and obtained the king's per-
mission to go out as a volunteer to the imperial army, the emperor being at that
time engaged in a war with France.

His lordship joined the Imperialists in 1735, at Bruchsal on the Rhine, where
he was received with every mai-k of distinction and favour by the celebrated
prince Eugene of Savoy, then in command of the troops in that quarter. Find-
ing, however, that there was no immediate appearance of active service here,
his lordship, accompanied by viscount Primrose and captain Dalrymple, both
volunteers like himself, proceeded to the army under count Sackendorfl^I The
first duty imposed on them by this general was to reconnoitre the enemy, who
were posted near Claussen. As they advanced towards the French lines they
were met by a party of the enemy, three times the number of their own escort,
and a skirmish ensued, in which count Nassau, who accompanied them, was kill-
ed, and lord Primrose severely wounded by a musket ball close beside the earl
of Crawford.

On the evening of the same day, 17th October, 1735, the battle of Claussen
was fought, affording his lordship an opportunity of distinguishing himself,
which he did not let pass. He attached himself to the prince of Waldeck, who
commanded the left wing of the Imperialists, and attended him throughout the
whole of the battle. The position in which the earl was placed was the first at-
tacked by the enemy, and was the most sanguinary part of the field. The in-
telligence, bravery, and good conduct of his lordship in this engagement excited
tho warmest admiration of the prince, and laid the foundation of his future fame
as a soldier.

Preliminaries of peace between the emperor and France having been soon af-
terwards signed, the earl left the Imperial army, made a tour of the Nether-
lands and Holland, and again returned to Britain. On his arrival he Avas
graciously received by George II., Avho honoured him with many warm expres-
sions of esteem. His lordship remained at home for two years. At the end
of this period, he again became desirous of exchanging the" monotony of

450 JOHN LINDSAY.

n peaceful ami idle, for nn active life, nixl s<nis;lit tlie kiiij^'s permission to
serve ns a volunteer in tlio Kiissi.in army, under field marshal 31unicli, then en-
jjagetl with the Imperialists, in a war against the 'I'lirks. Having oljtained the
royal permission to take this step, he embarked at (u-avesend in April, 1738,
for Petersburg. On his arrival there he innnediately waited upon the Czarina,
who ret'cived him with the most expressive indications of kindness and favour,
and instantly appointed him to the connnand of a regiment of horse, witii tlie
rank of general in the Russian service.

Invested with these appointments, his lordship left Petersburg in the mid-
dle of 3Iay to join the army, which he elVected after a dangerous and tedious
journey of a month's duration. Several sanguinary engagements witli the Turks
Boon followed, and in all the earl eminently distinguished himself, both by
his military skill, and fearless intrepidity. In one of these murderous con-
flicts, which took place on the 2Gth of July, and in which the Turks and Tar-
tars were repulsed with great loss, his lordship, who was at the head of a party
of Cossacks, excited the astonishment and admiration of even these bold and
skilful riders, by his dexterity in horsemanship. Nor were they less delighted
with the gallantry also which he exhibited in this battle, in the instance of a
single combat with a Tartar, whom, after a desperate encounter, he sabred and
stript of his arms. The latter he afterwards brought to England with him as
objects of curiosity.

The season being now far advanced, marshal 3Ianich thought it advisable to
retire from the scene of operations, and accordingly retreated to Kiow, whither
he was accompanied by the earl, who remained with him for three weeks after
the cessation of hostilities. He then left IMunich, and joined the Imperialists near
Belgrade, 'ihe earl had now acquired a large stock of military knowledge,
and had been especially improved in the art by his experience under Munich,
Avhom he justly reckoned the first captain of the age. Six weeks after he joined
the Imperial army, it was marched into winter quarters. On this occasion he
attached himself to prince Eugene's regiment, and proceeded with that corps
to Comorra, thirty-three miles S.E. of Presburg. Here, and at Vienna, to
which he occasionally resorted, he remained till the middle of April, 1739.
During this leisure his lordship employed himself in reducing to method and
system the military knowledge which he had acquired, by drawing plans, and
writing observations on the Russian campaign ; thus availing himself of every
means and opportunity that offered, of improving himself in that art, to attain an
eminence in which had been from his earliest years the great object of his am-
bition, and of his fondest hopes.

His lordship now joined tlie Imperialists assembled near Peterwaradin, un-
der the command of marshal Wallis, and attached himself to his old friend
and fellow soldier, the prince of Waldeck, lieutenant-general of infantry.
In a short time after, the battle of Krotzka, near Belgrade, was fought. In this
engagement, the earl, while fighting the Turks at the head of Palfi's cuirassiers,
had his favourite black horse killed under him : another was immediately brought
him, but he had scarcely gained the saddle when he himself was struck with a
musket ball, which entering the outside of his left thigh, shattered the bone to
pieces, and brought him to the ground.

Here he lay for some time in a state of utter insensibility, when he was ac-
cidentally discovered by general count Sucheri, who, on perceiving him, ordered
some grenadiers to raise him up, and place him on one of his horses. This,
lio.vever, was all the attention which the urgency of the moment would permit.
Having been mounted on the horse he was left to his fate, and received no fur-
tlier assistance until the following morning, when he was found by one of his

JOHN LINDSAY. 4.57

o-ivn grooms, his face deadly pale, his head uncovered, and himself holding
fast by the horse's mane Avith both hands to prevent his falling oft'.

He was now immediately carried to Belgrade, Avhere surgical assistance was
obtained. On examination of the wound it was at first deemed mortal ;
but although it certainly shortened his days, it was not immediately fatal. After
making some progi*ess towards recovery, his lordship left Belgrade on the
2Gth of September, being carried on board a vessel on the Danube, with which
he proceeded to Comorra, where he arrived on the 27th of December. This place
he left on the 2Sth of April, 1710, and sailed up the Danube to Vienna,
which he reached on the 7th 3Iay. During all this time his lordship was con-
fined to a recumbent posture by the utate of his wounded limb, which still sub-
jected him to tlie most excruciating agony, and continued constantly emitting
splintei'S from the fractured bone. So desperate and severe was this wound, that
his lordship wallced for the first time, and even then with the assistance of
crutches, only in the beginning of September, 1740; about a year and a half
after he had received it.

In Vienna he remained till the 20th of September, when, being advised
to try the effects of the baths of Baden, he pi'oceeded to that quarter, and re-
mained there till the lltii of August, 1711. His lordship, still suft'ering from
his wound, whicli no expedient had yet been able to heal, now proceeded by
Presburg, Vienna, and Leipsic, to Hamelen, Avhere he arrived on the 3rd Oc-
tober, and had an interview with George II., who happened to be there at the
time. His majesty received the earl Avith much kindness, and entered into a
long conversation with him. On the 23rd of October he took leave of his ma-
jesty, and embarked for England. Notwithstanding his absence, the earl's
interest had not been neglected at home. In July, 1739, he was made a colo-
nel of horse and adjutant-general, and on the 25th October of the same year,
was appointed colonel of the 42nd regiment of foot, or Royal Scots Highlanders.
The same inclination to forward his military views marked his return. On the
25th of December, 1741, the year in which he came to England, he was ap-
pointed colonel of the second troop of horse grenadier guards.

His lordship's Avound still annoying him, he was now advised to try the bath
of Bareges in France, and having obtained, for this purpose, a pass from the
French king, the Lynx British man-of-war was ordered to carry him out.
With this vessel he sailed from Portsmouth on the 23rd of IMay, 1742, and ar-
rived at Bourdeaux on the 30th of the same month.

Soon after landing he proceeded to Bareges, which he reached on the 12ih
June, and commenced a regular system of bathing, but Avithout much e.^'ect ;
being still able to Avalk only Avith the assistance of a a-utch and high-heeled
shoe. From Bareges he Avent on the IGth October to Aix in Provence, Avhere
he again used the bath, and Avith much more benefit than he had derived from
the same remedy in the former place. Leaving Aix his lordship arrived at
Chambery on the 2nd of November, Avhere he Avaited on the king of Sardinia,
Avith Avhom he remained till the 18th, Avhen he px-oceeded to Geneva. In this
city he remained till the 1st of January, 1743. He then visited Milan, Genoa,
3Iodena, Verona, and Venice, and from thence proceeded by Trieste, Gatz,
Lintz, and through Bohemia and Saxony, and finally joined the British firmy,
of Avhich field-marshal Stair Avas commander, at Hochstet, on the 24th of May,
Avhere George II. happened to be at the time. At the battle of Dettingen,
Avhich took place on the 16th of £lie folIoAving month, the earl commanded a
brigade of life-guards, and conducted himself throughout that conflict Avith a
coolness and intrepidity Avhich greatly enhanced his reputation for courage and
military skill. During the action, his lordship, on one occasion, ordered the

458 JOHN LINDSAY.

otlu'Ois of his brigade to tlio front, the enemy beln»- within fifty paces of them,
lie then addressed his men, " llavk, my dear lads," he said, "trust to your
swords, liandlc them well, and never mind your pistols." I'lacing himself then
at their head, he led tiicni on to the charge, encouraging them and animating
them by his example as they advanced, the trumpets the while sounding the
martial strain of " Ih-itons, Strike Home." Tlie soldiers obeying the instruc-
tions of their gallant loader, and participating in his enthusiasm, closed on the
French, and drove them before them with prodigious slaughter. In the begin-
ning of the battle a musket ball struck his lordship's right holster case, pene-
trated the leather, and, hitting the barrel of the pistol which it contained, fell
harmlessly into the case. Here it was found by his lordship, who showed it the
day after the engagement to the king at Hanau, >vhere he then was, and who,
on seeing the carl approaching, exclaimed, " Here comes my champion ;" fol-
lowing up afterwards this flattering expression of his opinion of his lordship's
nierits, by the most gratifying remarks on the gallantry of his conduct on the
preceding day.

In this year, (1743,) the earl was appointed colonel of the 4th or Scottish
troop of horse guards, and, after the battle of Dettingen, was made a general of
brigade. In May, 1741, his lordship joined the combined armies, in camp, near
Brussels; but, owing to the over caution of marshallAVade no opportunity offered
of again distinguishing himself during the whole of the campaign which fol-
lowed. In the next year, however, this was not wanting. The duke of Cum-
berland, having been appointed captain general of the British forces, arrived
at Brussels on the II th of April, 1745, his lordship being then with the army
as brigadier-general. The arrival of his grace was soon after (30th April) fol-
lowed by the battle of Fontenoy. In this engagement liis lordship conducted
himself with his usual gallantry, and exhibited even moi'e than his usual skill,
particularly in conducting the retreat, which he did in a manner so masterly,
as procured for him a reputation for military genius not inferior to any of that
age. His lordship also wrote an exceedingly able and interesting account of the
battle. On the 30th of May following, he was promoted to the rank of major-
generaL

The rebellion in Scotland now occun-ing, his lordship was ordered, in Feb.,
1746, from Antwerp, where he then was, to his native country, to take the coni-
mand of the Hessians employed by the government on that occasion, and whose
numbers amounted to six thousand. With these troops he secured Stirling,
Perth, and the passes into the lowlands, while Cumberland proceeded by the
north-east coast in quest of the rebels. On this visit to Scotland, his lordship
formed an acquaintance Avith, and afterwards married, lady Jane Olurray,
eldest daughter, and presumptive heiress of James, second duke of Atliole.
On the extinction of the rebellion, he returned to the army in the Nethex*-
lands, where he amved early in June. At the battle of Rocoux, which took
place on the 1st of October following, he commanded the second line of cavalry,
Avith which he drove back the French infantry, and threw them into irretriev-
able confusion. His lordship soon afterwards accompanied the army into winter
quarters at Bois le Due. His troop of horse guards being this year disbanded,
he was appointed to the command of the 25th regiment of foot on the 25th
Dec, 1746.

In February following, (1747,) his lordship embarked at Flushing for Eng-
land, landed at Southampton, and proceeded to Belford, where he arrived on
the 3d IMarch. Here his lordship met, by appointment, lady Jane Murray, to
whom he was married on the day of his arrival. His wound, which had never
yet been thoroughly healed, now again bi'oke out from fatigue, and subjected him

ROBERT LINDSAY. 459

anew to all the pain and suffering which he had experienced immediately after
receiviHg it. From Bedford, the earl and countess proceeded to London, from
thence to Helvoetsluys, and finally to Bois le Due, where they arrived in June.
On the 22d May, his lordship, previous to his leaving England, was appointed
to the command of the 2d regiment of dragoons, or royal Scots Greys, in room
of the earl of Stair, deceased ; and, on the 26th of September following, he was
promoted to the rank of lieutenant-general.

On the conclusion of the campaign, the earl, accompanied by his countess,
went to Aix-la-Chapelle, for the benefit of the baths there ; being still seriously
annoyed by his wound, which had again broken out after a second temporary
cure. While his lordship was confined here to bed, his young countess — she had
not yet attained her twentieth year — was seized with a violent and malignant
fever which carried her off in four days. His lordship, who was deeply affected
by his loss, and for a time wholly inconsolable, ordered that the body of his de-
ceased lady should be embalmed, and sent over to his family burial place at
Ceres in Fife. He himself remained at Aix till the opening of the campaign in
1748, when he joined the duke of Cumberland and confederate army of 150,000
men. His lordship remained with the army till the conclusion of the peace,
Avhich took place in the same year. On the IGth of February of the following-
year, (1749,) he superintended the embarkation of the British troops at Wil-
liamstadt, and soon after returned to London, where he died on the 25th
December, in the forty-eighth year of his age, after suffering again severely
from his wound. His remains ivere carried to Ceres, and deposited beside
those of his countess.

His lordship is represented to have been of middle size, remarkably stout, but
finely formed. His manners were mild, elegant, and refined ; his disposition
generous, brave, and charitable, often beyond his means. His purse, open to
all, was especially at the service of the distressed widows of officers, numbers of
whom were relieved from misery and destitution by his bounty. His lordship
always maintained a splendid retinue, and lived in a style becoming his rank,
but was moderate at table, and temperate in all his habits. His judgment was
strong, his temper serene and dispassionate. His lordship'having died without
issue, the titles of Crawford and Lindsay devolved on George, viscount of Gar-
nock.

LINDSAY, Robert, of Pitscottie, author of the Chronicles of Scotland
known by his name, was born about the beginning of the sixteenth century. He
was a cadet of the noble family of Lindsay, comprising the earls of Crawford
and Lindsay, and the lords Lindsay of Byres. He is not known otherwise
than as the author of the Chronicles alluded to, and these have not had the ef-
fect of eliciting any information regarding him from his contemporaries, which
could be of any avail to a modern biographer. He has, in truth, been scarcely
recognized even as a lit jrai-y man by the chroniclers of Scottish genius, and yet,
this is the only ground on which he seems to have any claim to commemora-
tion, there being no other circumstance of any interest in his life but that of
his having written the work spoken of above.

As to the Chronicles themselves, it is not perhaps very easy to determine in
what language they should be spoken of. They present a strange compound
of endless and aimless garrulity, simplicity, credulity, and graphic delineation ;
the latter, however, evidently the effect not of art or design, but of a total
want of them. He describes events with all the circumstantiality of an eye-
witness, and with all the prolixity of one who is determined to leave nothing
untold, however trifling it may be.

But his credulity, in particular, seems to have been boundless, and is remark-

4G0 WILLIAM LITIIGOW.

able even for the croilnloiis ai^o in uliicli lie lived. He appears to have be-
lieved, without (jiiestion, every thing- which was told iiiiii ; and, believing It, has
cnrel'iilly recorded it. After detailing at some length, and with great gravity,
all the circumstances of the mysterious summons of I'lotcock, previous to the
battle of I'lodden Field, " Verily,'' lie says, " the author of this, that caused
me write the manner of the sunnnons, uas a landed gentleman, ^\]\o was at that
time twenty years of age, and was in the town the time of the said sunnnons ;
and thei'eafler, when the field was stricken, he swore to nic, there was no man
tliat escaped that Avas called in this summons, but that one man alone \\hicb
made Iiis protestation."

The earnest and honest simplicity of the good old chi'oniclcr, however, is
exceedingly amusing. He aims at nothing beyond a mere record of what he
conceived to be facts, and these he goes on detailing, with a great deal
of incoherence, and all the unintellectual precision of an artificial process,
neither feeling, passion, nor mind ever appearing to mingle in the sliglitcst de-
gree with his labours. These characteristics of the chronicles of Lindsay have
greatly impaired their credibility, and have almost destroyed all confidence
in them as autliorities.

Where he is corroborated by other historians, or by an association of well
known and Avell established circumstances, he may be trusted, but, Avhere this is
not the case, his testimony ought to be received with caution ; for, where he does
not absolutely create, he is almost sure to exaggerate, and is thus in any event
a very unsafe guide.

If Lindsay was but an indifterent ciironicler, he was a still worse poet, as
will be conceded, it is presumed, after a perusal of tlie following introductory
stanzas of a poetical address to Kobert Stewart, bishop of Caithness, prefixed to
the Chronicles :

" O little book, pass thou with diligence!
To St Andrews that fair city ;
Salute that lord with humble reverence,
Bcseeking him, of fatherly pity,
With entire heart, and perfect charity,
And that he would on nowaj's offend
To look on thee, one da}' or two to spend.

And there shew him thy secrets more and less,

From the beginning unto the end :

And ;dso you to come utter and express;

Show him the verity, and make it to him kend—

The martiid deeds, and also the fatal end,

Of his noble dainty progenitor,

In Scotland lived sometime in great honnar,

The Chronicles begin with James II., 1436, and end with queen Mary,
1565. This latter reign, ho^vever, is not completed, being carried down only
a little beyond the period at which the marriage of that unfortunate princess
with Darnley took place.

LITHGOW, WiLLiAJi, a well known traveller of the seventeenth century,
was born in the parish of Lanark, in the year 1583. Nothing is known of his
birth or parentage, or of the earlier period of bis life. He seems to have at-
tracted very little general notice prior to the publication of his travels in 1614 ;
and even the celebrity which these acquired for him, does not appear to have
Euggested any inquiry into his previous history.

'Ihere is no reason, hoAvever, to believe otherwise than that he was a person

WILLIAM LITIIGOW. 4G1

of leather mean condition, and poor circumstances, though evidently possessed of
an education very far surpassing what was common among the vulgar at the pe-
riod when he lived. The motives which induced him to leave his native coun-
try, to perforin a painful and dangerous pilgrimage through foreign lands, are
not more obvious than some of the other particulars of his early life. He him-
self, in the strange and almost unintelligible jargon in which he frequently in-
dulges in the M'ork Avhich records his adventures, obscurely assigns two: tlie
oppression of enemies, — but Avho they Avere, or what was the cause of theii'
enmity, he does not say — and an irresistible desire to visit strange lands. It
Avould, indeed, appear that this last was the ruling passion of his life, and that,
together with a roving, unsettled, and restless disposition, it was the principal
agent in compelling him to undertake the formidable journeys which he accom-
plished, and enabled him to bear up Avith such a series of hardships and bodily
sufferings, as perhaps no man ever before or since has endured.

From tho obscurity in which his early life is involved, it is not, therefore,
until he has assumed the character which has procured him celebrity, namely,
that of a traveller, that Lithgow is introduced to us.

In his youth, while he was, as he himself says, yet a stripling, he made two
voyages to the " Orcadian and Zetlandian Isles." Shortly after this, he pro-
ceeded on a tour through Germany, Bohemia, Helvetia, and the Low countries.
From the latter he went to Paris, where he remained for ten months. William
Lilhgow nowhere gives the slightest hint regarding the source whence hii
derived the funds necessary to defray the expenses of these journeys ; but there
seems to be some reason for believing that he trusted in a great measure to
chance, and to the casual assistance Avhich he might receive from any of his
countrymen whom he might encounter, in the dill'erent places he visited. Thi^
applies only, however, to the first part of his career ; the latter was provided fci^
by a piece of good fortune which sliall be noticed in its proper place.

On the 9th of March, 1609, Lithgow again started from Paris on another
roving expedition, and, on this occasion, proceeded, in the first instance, directly
to Rome. He was escorted several miles en his way by three or four of his
countrymen, with whom he had picked up an acquaintance while in Paris, and
who, not improbably, supported him during the time of his residence in that
city. These persons he describes as gentlemen, and one of them, at any rate,
certainly had a claim to this character on the scoi'e of rank. This Avas Hay of
Smithfield, esquire, of the king of France's body guard.

Although thus associating himself, however*, with these gentlemen, Lith-
gow does not speak of them as equals, but in a marked tone of inferiority ;
leaving altogether an impression that their kindness and attention proceeded
from the circumstances of his being a countryman, a man of talent, and of a
singular, bold, and adventurous disposition. Having bid adieu to his compan-
ions, he trudged onwards to Rome on foot ; for such Avas his usual mode of tra-
velling. He made it a rule, and strictly adhered to it, never to avail himself of
any conveyance during a journey Avhen he could accomplish it on foot, and his
only deviation was in the cases of crossing seas, rivers, or lakes. Dui-Ing all his.
travels he never mounted a horse, or put his foot into a carriage, or any de-
scription of vehicle Avhatever.

While in Rome he made a narrow escape from the inquisition ; the most
sanguinary and ferocious of Avhose members were at that time, singular to say,
Scotsmen. Two of these Avere from St Andrews. There Avere besides, one of the
name of Goi-don, one Cunningham, born in the Canongate of Edinburgh, and
several others, and it Avas from the eager pursuit of these, his own countrymen,
that poor Lithgow found the greatest difficulty in escaping. This, however, he

4G2 WILLIAM LITHGOW.

efVected by the assistniico of a domestic of the earl of Tyrone, who was then re-
siding at Home. This man, whose name was IMegget, concealed him for three
tlays and nights on tlio roof of the earl's palace, and, on the fourth night, con-
veyed him secretly out of liie city, by aiding him to scale the walls, as the gates
and streets were all carefully guarded by persons appointed by the inquisition to
apprehend liim.

From Rome Lithgow proceeded to Naples, and from thence to Loretto. On
liis way to tlie latter place, lie overtook a carriage, in which were two young
gentlemen from Home with their mistresses, all proceeding joyously on a pil-
grimage to the shrine of the Madonna. This lively group insisted upon the lonely
pedestrian's stepping into their carriage, but, adhering to the rule he had laid
down of never availing himself of any such conveyance, he obstinately refused.
Finding that they could not prevail upon him to take a seat beside them, the
good-natured pilgrims descended from their carriage, and insisted on keeping
liim company on foot, and, thus associated, the whole party jogged merrily on
for Loretto. Here he fell in with another of his countrymen, of the name of
Arthur, with whom he had been formerly acquainted, and Avho seems to have
been imbued with some portion of his own restless and rambling disposition.
Having spent some time in Loretto, they proceeded together to Ancona, and
thence by sea to Venice. Here his companion left him to cross the Alps,
while his own '* purpose reached for Greece and Asia." Arthur, it appears,
had been a domestic servant of the earl of' Glencairn. The circumstance,
therefore, of Lithgow's making him a companion, would seem to be an addi-
tional proof that he did not assume, or pi'etend to, the character of a gentleman
traveller.

Lithgow now proceeded to visit the various islands in the IMediterranean, and
thereafter wandered through Greece and Asia, encountering innumerable dan-
gers and difficulties ; now shipwrecked, now attacked by banditti, now plun-
dered and maltreated, and, with all this, frequently exposed for days and nights
together to the inclemency of the weather ; his religion excluding him, in several
places, not only from the hospitality of the natives, but even from the shelter of
their houses. During his peregrinations through Greece, he met with two gen-
tlemen from Venice, who entertained him kindly for ten days, and, on his de-
parture made him a present of fifty zechins in gold; the first gift, he says, he
received in all his travels, and, it may be added, that this is also the first
allusion he makes to any pecuniary matters relating to himself. He now pro-
ceeds to declare, that if some such instances of good fortune had not befallen
him he should never have been able to accomplish his " sumptuous peregrina-
tion."

Not contented with the adventures in which he was unavoidably, on his part,
involved, there were others which he sought. Like another Don Quixote, he
released captives, or at least assisted them to effect their escape, and came to
the aid of distressed damsels. Altogether, he appears to have been a singularly
benevolent and kind-hearted man ; ready at all times to peril his life for the
injured or oppressed, whenever he thought such a risk could be of service to
them.

From Greece Lithgow proceeded over-land to Egypt, and finally reached
Grand Cairo. During his journey thither, he had the good fortune to fall in
with three Dutchmen at Jerusalem, Avho were journeying with a caravan in the
same direction. These he joined, and kept by them until they reached the
Egyptian capital. Here his three companions speedily killed themselves by
drinking " strong Cyprus wine without mixture of water." Each as they died
left the survivors all his property, and the last bequeathed the whole accurau-

WILLIAM LITHGOW. 4G^

lated amount to Litligow. He had, however, some difBculty in rescuing his
legacy from the grasp of the Venetian consul ; but by sacrificing a part he ob-
tained possession of the remainder, which amounted to nine hundred and
forty-two zechins of gold, besides rings and tablets.

Thanking God for his good fortune, he now proceeded, quite at his ease as to
money matters, to inspect every thing that was curious in the city. From Cairo
he proceeded to Alexandi-ia, where he embarked for IMalta. From thence he
sailed for Sicily, walked afterwards to Paris, and finally came over to Eng-
land, where he presented to king James, to queen Anne, and to prince
Charles, " certain rare gifts and notable relicks brought from Jordan and Jeru-
salem."

After remaining in London for about a year, Lithgow's propensity to roving
again became too strong to be resisted, and he set out upon a second expedition.
He now traversed the Netherlands and Switzerland, and from thence proceeded
to Calabria. Here another windfall came in his way, but it was one of a much
more questionable nature in point of morality than that which met him at Cairo.
Between Saramutza and Castello Franco, he found the dead bodies of two
young barons lying[in a field, who had just killed each other in a duel. See-
ing- that they were richly clad, Lithgow, " to speak the truth," as he himself
says, searched their pockets, and found two silken purses well filled with
Spanish pistoles. These, together with certain rings which they wore on their
fingers, he carried off, and appropriated to his own use ; and he thus moralizes
on the fact. " Well, in the mutability of time there is ay some fortune falleth
by accident, whether lawful or not, I will not question. It Avas now mine that
was last theirs ; and to save the thing that was not lost, I travelled that day
thirty miles further to Tei'ra Nova."

Lithgow now visited Africa, traversing Barbary, Morocco, Algiers, Tunis,
and Tripoli. Then, crossing over to Italy, he perambulated Hungary, Ger-
many, and Poland, and finally reached Dantzic, Avhere he embarked for Eng-
land, and once more arrived in safety in London. He Avas now an object of
curiosity and interest, and, Avhile he remained in England, Avas frequently ad-
mitted to familiar audiences of his majesty, and Avas at all times a Avelcome
guest at the tables of the first nobility and gentlemen in the kingdom, Avhere he
repaid their civilities by relating the story of his adventures.

LithgOAv's spirit of adventure and singular restlessness of disposition, how-
ever, Avere still unsubdued ; and neither all that he had seen, nor all that he
had suffered, could induce him to settle at home. In 1G19, he again set
out on another roving expedition, but on this occasion he Avas furnished Avith
letters of recommendation from king James, addressed to " all kings, princes,
and dukes," Provided Avith these documents he proceeded to Ireland, From
thence he sailed for France, travelled through Portugal and Spain, and finally
arrived at Malaga. Here he Avas apprehended as a spy, and accused of giving
intelligence to some English ships Avhich Avere then on the Spanish coast, re-
specting the return of the Plate fleet

All poor Lithgow's proofs and asseverations of innocence availed him
nothing. He Avas subjected to the most dreadful tortures. His limbs Avere
mangled and crushed, and his body torn and lacerated Avith tightened cords and
other engines of torture. His innocence as a spy Avas ultimately established to
the satisfaction even of his persecutors ; but he Avas then handed over to the In-
quisition, Avhich inflicted upon him a fresh series of tortures not less horrible
than the first,

]>Iaimed and mutilated, LithgOAV was at length liberated by the interference
of the English consul and of several English residenters in Malaga, from Avhom

4C1 JOHN LIVINGSTON.

all knowledire of tlio iiiiforlimate travel lei's fato Lad been carefully concealed
until it Mas discovered to tlicui by accident.

Shortly after his release he was carried on board of an English ship, for his
person was so fearfully manj^Icd that he was not only wholly unable to walk,
but was apparently beyond iiope of recovery. In this state, on his arrival in
England, which was in llJ21, he was exhibited, lying on a feather bed, to the
king and the whole of the court, all the persons of whom it was composed,
crowding to see iiim. His miserable situation excited universal sympathy, and
might under a more spirited prince have become the ground of a national quar-
rel with the country in which the cruelty and injustice had been inflicted. If
his majesty, however, failed in avenging the unhappy traveller's injuries, he was
not Avanting in compassion for his sullerings. He was twice sent to ]3atli at the
royal expense, and maintained by the same hand for seven and twenty weeks,
until he had in a great measure i-ccovered his original health and strength, " al-
though," he says, " my left arm and crushed bones be incurable."

Soon after his arrival in England, Lithgow was carried, by the king's di-
rection to the residence of Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador at the Eng-
lish court, for the purpose of endeavouring to procure some redress of his
grievances, r>y this celebrated person he was treated with characteristic dupli-
city. Lithgow, finding the case hopeless, accused the Spaniard, in the presence
chamber, and before a crowd of courtiers, of deceit and ungentlenianlike con-
duct. This charge he followed up with an act of violence on the person of the
ambassador, for which, though his spirited conduct was much applauded, he
was sent to the IMarshalsea, where he was confined nine weeks. Lithgow after
this made several attempts to procure some sort of redress or compensation from
the house of commons, by a bill of grievances, but none of these were success-
ful. The last eflort of this kind which he made was in 1G26. In the yeat
following he returned to Scotland ; and still under the influence of that spirit
which had urged him to roam through the world for so many years, he under-
took a tour through the western isles. He speaks of himself as having been
in the island of Arran in the year 1623; but from this period little more is
known regarding him. He finally, however, and probably soon after this, re-
turned to his native parish, where he remained till his death ; but when this
took place is uncertain. He was interred in the church-yard of Lanark, and is
yet familiarly spoken of in that part of the country, where it is said several of
his descendents still exist. The place of his sepulture is unmai'ked by any me-
morial, and cannot therefore be pointed out.

The first edition of his travels was printed in 1G14, 4to. This work was
again reprinted in the reign of Charles I., with a dedication to that monarch.
He also published an account of the siege of Buda in 1G37, a circumstance
which shows that he had attained a considerable age; as in 1637, he would be
in liis 54th year.

LIVINGSTON, John, one of the most revered names in Scottish ecclesListical
history. He was born at Kilsyth in Stirlingshire, (then called 31onybroch), on
the Sist of June, 1603. His father, Mr V/illiam Livingston, who ofHciated as
minister of Monybroch from 1600 to 1614, and was then translated to Lanark,
was the son of Mv Alexander Livingston, his predecessor, in the charge of the
parish of IMonybrocli, and \vho, in his turn, was a grandson of Alexander, fifth
lord Livingston, one of the nobles intrusted Avith the keeping of queen 3Iary in
her infancy, and the ancestor of the earls of Linlithgow and Callender. His
mother was Agnes Livingston, daughter of Alexander Livingston, a cadet of the
house of Dunnipace. His christian name he received at baptism in compliance
with the request of lady Lillias Graham.^

' A gentlewoman of the house of "Wigton, with whom, as with many persons of equal

JOHN LIVINGSTON. 4G5

•♦ Woithy famous iMr John Livingston," as he was fondly termed by his con-
temporaries, received tlie rudiments of learning at home, and at the age of
ten was sent to study the classics under i\Ir Wallace, a respectable teacher at
Stirling. During the first year he made little progress, and was rather harshly
treated by the schoolmaster; tliis was corrected by a remonstrance from his
father, after which he profited very rapidly by liis studies. When he had com-
pleted his third year at Stirling, it was proposed that he should go to the Glas-
gow university ; but his father eventually determined that he should remain
another year at school, and this, he informs us,' was the most profitable year he
had at school, being cliielly devoted to a course of classical reading. During
the time of his residence in Stirling, Mr Patrick Simpson, a clergyman of much
note, officiated in the parish church ; and Mr Livingston relates, that, on re-
ceiving the communion from his hands, he experienced a physical agitation of
an uncommon character, which he believed to have been occasioned " by the
Lord for the first time working upon his heart." At his father's house in
Lanark, to which he returned in 1617, in order to attend the death-bed of his
mother, he had further opportunities of profiting religiously ; for it was the oc-
casional resort of some of the most distinguished clergymen and " professors"
of that age. Tlie celebrated 3Ir Robert Bruce was among the number of the
former ; and of the latter were the countess of Wigton (whom Livingston him-
self calls the " rare"), lady Lillias Graham, already mentioned, lady (Julross,
still more famous tlian any of the rest, and lady Barnton. It seems to have
then been a connnon practice for sucli persons as were conspicuous for religious
earnestness, of whatever rank, to resort much to each other's houses, and to
take every opportunity, when on a journey, to spend a night in a kindred do-
mestic circle, where they might, in addition to conmion hospitalities, enjoy the
fellowship of a common faith. To a large mingling in society of this kind,
we are no doubt to attribute much of the sanctity for which 3Jr Livingston Avas
remarkable through life.

The subject of our memoir received his academical education at the univer-
sity of St Andrews, where 3Ir Robert Boyd Avas then principal, and Mr Robert
Blair, another eminent divine, the pi-ofessor of theology. Being tempted at
this time by some proposals for a secular profession, he adopted the expedient
of retiring to a cave on the banks of 31ouse-water (perhaps the same which
sheltered Wallace), Avhere he spent a whole day in spiritual meditation, and ul-
timately resolved to become a preacher of the gospel, as the only means of se-
curing Ills own eternal interests. During tlie progress of his subsequent studies
in divinity, he gave token of that firm adherence to presbyterian rules which
characterized him in his maturer years. He was sitting with some of the people
and a few of his fellow students in a church in Glasgow, when the archbishop
(Law) came to celebrate the communion for the first time after the episcopal
fashion established by the Perth ai'ticles. Seeing the people all sitting as usual.
Law desired them to kneel, which some did, but among the recusants were
Livingston and the little party of students. The archbishop commanded them
either to kneel or depart : to this Livingston boldly replied, that " there Avas
no warrant for kneeling, and, for want of it, no one ought to be excommuni-
cated." Law only caused those near them to move, in order that they might
remove.

Mr Livingston became a preacher in 1G25, and for a considerable time
preached for his father at Lanark, or in the neighbouring parish churches. He
liad several calls to vacant churches, especially to Anwoth in Galloway, which

rank, his father was on intimate terms of personal and religious friendship, and whose falier,
husband, and eldest son, were all of the same appellation.
* In his life, written by himself, Glasgow, 1734.
in. 3 N

466 JOHN LIVINGSTON.

was afterwards filled by the celebrated Ihitlicrford. The increasing rigour of
the episcopal regulations appeai-s to liave prevented him from obtaining a set-
tlement Ho was at length, in 1027, taken into the house of the carl of
Wigton at Cumbernauld, as chaplain, with permission to preach in the hall to
such strangers as chose to accompany the family in their devotions, and also to
minister occasionally in the neighbouring pulpits. lie was living in this man-
ner wlien he produced the celebrated revival of religion at the liirk of Sliotts.
This, it seems, was a place where he always found himself in the enjoyment of
an unusual degree of " liberty " in preaching. On Sunday, June 20, 1G30,
the conununion was celebrated at Shotts to a large assemblage of people, among
whom were all the more eminently pious women of rank in that part of the
country. The impression produced by the solemnities of the day ^vas so very
great, that many did not depart, but spent the whole night in prayer and con-
ference.^ Among these ivas Mr Livingston, avIio being requested to give a ser-
mon next morning to the still lingering multitude, walked forth very early into
the fields. Here, he says, " there came such a misgiving of spirit upon me,
considering my unworthiness and weakness, and the nmltitude and expectation
of the people, that I was consulting vith myself to 'have stolen away some-
where." He had actually gone to some distance, and was losing sight of the
kirk of Shotts, Avhen the words, " Was I ever a bairen wilderness or a land of
darkness," were brought into his heart ;vith such an overcoming power, as con-
strained him to x'eturn. In the ensuing service he ** got good assistance about
an hour and a half" upon the text, Ezek. xxxvi. 25, 26. '-Then will I sprinkle
clean water upon you," &:c. *' In the end," says Blr Livingston, " oflering to
close with some words of exhortation, I was led on about an hour's time, in a
strain of exhortation and warning, with such liberty and melting of heart, as I
never had the like in public all my lifetime." The effect of the address is
spoken of by Fleming, in his " Fulfilling of the Scriptures," as " an extraor-
dinary appearance of God, and down-pouring of the Spirit, with a strange un-
usual motion on the hearers," insomuch that five hundred, it was calculated, had
at that time, " a discernible change wrought upon them, of whom most proved
lively christians afterwards. It was the sowing of a seed through Clydestble,
so as many of the most eminent christians in that country could date either
their conversion, or some remarkable confirmation of their case, from that day."
The importance of such a sermon, in propagating religion in a country where it
was as yet but imperfectly introduced, has given this event a prominent place —
not perhaps in the history of the church of Scotland, but certainly in the his-
tory of the gospel. It caused Monday sennons after the celebration of the
communion to become general, and appears to have been the origin of that now
habitual practice.

Livingston gives some curious particulars in reference to this signally suc-
cessful preaching. He officiated on the ensuing Thursday at Kilmarnock, and
there he was favoured with some remains, as it Avere, of the afflatus Avhich had
inspired him on the former day. Next 3Ionday, however, preaching in Irvine,
" I was so deserted," says he, " tliat the points I had meditated and written,
and liad fully in my memory, I was not, for my heart, able to get them pro-
nounced. So it pleased the Lord to counterbalance his dealings, and hide
pride from man. This so discouraged me, that I was upon resolution for some
time not to preach — at least, not in Irvine ; but Mr David Dickson could not
suffer me to go from thence till I preached the next Sabbath, to get, as lie
expressed it, amends of the Devil. And so I stayed, and preached with some
tolerable freedom."

houi-g'

The bed-room of lady Culross was filled with people, to whom she prajed " three large
re' time," — '• having great motion upon her." — Livingston's Life, MS. Ad. Lib.

JOHN LIVINGSTON. 467

Finding all prospect of a parochial settlement in his native country precluded
by the bishops, Mr Livingston was induced, in August, 1630, to accept the
charge of the parish of Killinchie, in the north of Ireland, uhere a consider-
able portion of the population consisted of Scots. Here he ministered with
great success, insomuch that, by one sermon preached in the neighbouring parish
of Holywood, he was calculated to have converted a thousand persons in as
effectual a manner as he had done the five hundred at Shotts. Such extensive
utility is, perhaps, only to be expected in a country such as Scotland and Ire-
land then were, and as America has more recently been ; but yet, as similar acts
are recorded of no contemporary clergyman whose name is familiar to us, we
must necessarily conclude, that there was something in the oratorical talents and
spiritual gifts of Mr Livingston, which marked him out as a most extraordinary
man. His success, as a minister, is less agreeably proved in another way — by
the persecution, namely, of the bishop in whose diocese he officiated. After
being once suspended and replaced, he was, in May, 1632, deposed, along
with Messrs Blair, Welsh, and Dunbar ; after which, he could only hold private
meetings with his flock. He and several of his people were now become so
desperate, as to the enjoyment of religion, in their own way, under British in-
stitutions, that they formed a resolution to emigrate to America. He accord-
ingly set sail from AVeymouth ; but being driven back by a contrary Avind, some
circumstances induced him to change his mind. Almost immediately after his
return, he and his deposed brethren were reinstated by a letter of the lord
deputy Strafford ; and, for a year and a half, he continued to preach at Kil-
linchie.

Mr Livingston's salary, in this charge, was only four pounds a-year ; yet he
takes pains to assure us, that notwithstanding all his travels from place to place,
and also occasional visits to Scotland, he never wanted money. He lets slip,
afterwards, however, that he received sums occasionally from the countesses of
Eglintoune and Wigton, and other devout ladies. His mode of life was so
fully justified by the circumstances of the times, which rendered it by no means
singular, that Mr Livingston was not deterred from forming a matrimonial con-
nexion. He had formed an attachment to the eldest daughter of Bartholomew
Fleming, merchant in Edinburgh, " of most worthy memory." The young lady
was also recommended to him by the favourable speeches of many of his friends.
Yet — and the fact is a cui-ious trait of the age and of the man — he spent nine
months " in seeking directions from God,'' before he could make up his mind
to pay his addresses. " It is like," he says, " I might have been longer in
that darkness, except the Lord had presented me an occasion of our conferring
together; for, in November 1634, when I was going to the Friday meeting at
Antrim, [the lady was then residing on a visit in Ireland,] I forgathered with
her and some others, going thither, and propounded to them, by the way, to
confer upon a text, whereon I was tO preach the day after at Antrim ; wherein
I found her conference so just and spiritual, that I took that for some answer
to my prayer to have my mind cleared, and blamed myself that I had not before
taken occasion to confer with her. Four or five days after, I proposed the
matter, and desired her to think upon it ; and, after a week or two, I went to
her mother's house, and, being alone with her, desiring her answer, I went to
prayer, and desired her to pray, which at last she did : and in that time I got
abundant clearness that it was the Lord's mind that I should marry her, and
then propounded the matter more fully to her mother ; and, albeit, I was then
fully cleared, I may truly say it was about a month after, before I got marriage
affection to her, although she was, for personal endo^Tnents, beyond many of her
equals, and I got it not till I obtained it by prayer ; but, thereafter, I had
greater difficulty to moderate it."

408 JOHN LIVINGSTON.

The pnrlics, li.iviii;;^ jiroccoded to Ivdiiibiirgli, were married in tlie West
C'liurch thcro, June '23, l(i35, under circnriistaiicos of proper soloinnity, not-
withstandiiifT tli.it archbisliop Spottiswood, cliancollor of Scotland, ^vas under-
stood to have issued orders for the apprehension of 3Ir Livingston some days
before. The uedding Avas attended by the earl of Wigton and his son lord
Fleming, and a number of other pious friends. Having returned to Ireland,
he Avas, in the ensuing November, once more deposed, and even, it aj)[iears,
excommunicated. He continued, iieverlheless, to hold forth at private
meetings in his own house, \vliere Blair, also again deposed, took up his
abode. At length, in renewed despair, he once more embarked, along with
his wife, for the American colonies; but, strange to say, after having sailed
to a point nearer to the banks of Newfoundland than to any part of Europe,
he was again driven back ; after which, conceiving it " to be the Lord's
will that he should not go to New luigland,'' he made no further at-
tempt.

For about two years, Mr Livingston preached occasionally, but always in a
somewhat furtive manner, both in Ireland and Scotland. He was in the latter
country in IG37, Avhen at length the bisliops brought matters to such a crisis, as
terminated their supremacy in Scotland, and enabled such divines as Mr Living-
ston to open their mouths without fear. 3Ir Livingston was present at Lanark
Avhen the covenant Avas received by the congregation of'that place ; and he says,
that, excepting at the Kirk of Shotts, he never saw such motions from the Spirit
of God ; " a thousand persons, all at once, lifting up their hands, and the tears
falling do\vn from their eyes.'' Being commissioned to proceed to London, to
confer with the friends of the cause, in reference to this grand national move-
ment, he disguised himself in a grey coat and a grey montero cap, for the
pui'pose of avoiding the notice of the English authorities. An accident which
befell him on the way, confined him, after his arrival in the metropolis, to his
chamber; but he was there visited by many friends of liberty in church and
state, including several of the English nobility. He had not been long in
London, ivlien the marquis of Hamilton informed him, through a mutual friend,
that the king Avas aware of his coming, and threatened " to put a pair of fetters
about his feet." He was, therefore, obliged to retire precipitately to his own
country.

In July 163S, Mr Livingston was enabled, under the new system of things,
to enter upon the ministry of the parish of Stranraer, in Wigtonshire ; a place
I Avith which he had long been familiar, in consequence of his frequently passing
that Avay to and from Ireland. Here his zeal and eloquence appear to have
been deeply appreciated, insomuch that the people flocked even to hear his
private family devotions, filling his house to such a degree, that he had at
length to perform these exercises in the church. It is a still more striking
proof of his gifts, that multitudes of his Irish friends used to come over twice
a-year to be present at his ministrations of the connminion. On one occasion,
lie had no fewer than five hundred of these far-travelled strangers ; on another,
he had twenty-eight of their children to baptize ! Such was then the keen
appreciation of " free preaching,'' and the difliculty of obtaining it under the
restrictions of the episcopal system, that some of these people were induced to
remove to Stranraer, simply that they might be of the congregation of 3Ir
Livingston, It is confessed, indeed, by the subject of our memoir, that
the obstructions which the Irish presbyterians encountered at that time, in
hearing the gospel preached after their own way, tended materially to excite
and keep alive religious impressions in their hearts. " The perpetual fear,"
he says, ** that the bishops would put away their ministers, made them, with

JOHN LIVINGSTON. 4G9

great hunger, wait on the ordinances." The narrow views of that age prevent-
ed the king or his ecclesiastical friends from seeing the tendency of their mea-
sures ; but the i-esult was exactly accordant to the more extended philosophy of
our own times. We have now less persecution, and, naturally, a great deal
more indiirerence.

It is a fact of too great importance to be overlooked, that Mr Livingston was
a member of the general assembly, which met at Glasgow in November 1G38,
and decreed, so far as an iinconstituted association of the clergy could do so, the
abolition of episcopacy in Scotland. He accompanied the army in the campaign
of 1G40, as chaplain to the regiment of the earl of Cassillis, and was present
at the battle of Newburn, of which he composed a narrative. In Novevnber, ho
returned to Stranraer, whei'e, in one Sunday, notwithstanding the smallness and
poverty of the town, he raised a contribution of no less than forty-five pounds
sterling, for the use of the army. A large portion of this, it must be remarked,
was given by one poor woman under very peculiar circumstances. Siie had laid
aside, as a portion to her daughter, seven twenty-two shilling pieces and aa
eleven-pound piece : the Lord, she said, had lately taken her daughter, and,
having resolved to give him her portion also, she no\v brought forward her
little hoard, in aid of that cause which she seriously believed to be his. In
these traits of humble and devoted piety, there is something truly affecting ; and
even those who are themselves least disposed to sucii a train of mind, must feel
that they are so.

Mr Livingston appears to have always retained a warm feeling towards tha
presbyterians of the north of Ireland. At the breaking out of the rebellion in
1641, when these poor people tied in a body from the fury of the catholics,
multitudes came into Scotland, by the way of Stranraer. Of the money raised
in Scotland to relieve the refugees, £1000 Scots was sent to Mr Livingston, who
distributed it in small sums, rarely exceeding half-a-crown, to the most neces-
sitous. He complains, in his memoirs, that out of all the afflicted multitudes
who came in his way, he hardly observed one person " sufficiently sensible oi
the Lord's hand" in tlieir late calamity, or of their own deserving of it, " so far
had the stroke seized their spirits as well as bodies.'' This is a remark highly
characteristic of the age. One more valuable occurs afterwards, lieing sent
over to Ireland with the Scottish army, " he found," he says, *' a great altera-
tion in the country; many of those who had been civil before, were become
many ways exceeding loose ; yea, sundry who, as could be conceived, had true
grace, were declined much in tenderness; so, as it would seem, the sword opens
a gap, and ?nakes every body worse than before, an inward plague coming
with the outward; yet some few were in a very lively condition." If Mr Liv-
ingston had not been accustomed to regard everything in a spiritual light, he
Avould have argued upon both matters with a view simply to pliysical causes.
He would have traced the savage conduct of the catholic Irish to the united
operation of a false religion, and the inhumane dominancy of a race of con-
querox's ; and the declining piety of the presbyterians to that mental stupor
which an unwonted accumulation of privations, oppressions, and dangers,
can hardly fail to produce. It is strange to a modern mind, to see men, in the
first place, violating the most familiar and necessary laws respecting their duty
to their neighbours, (as the English may be said to have done in reference to
the native Irish,) and then to hear the natural consequences of such proceedings,
described as a manifestation of divine wrath towards a class of people A\ho were
totally unconnected with the cause.

Mr Livingston was minister of Stranraer for ten years, during which time
he had not only brought his own flock into a state of high religious culture, but

470 JOHN LIVINGSTON.

done imicli, latterly, to restore the former state of feeling in the north of Ireland.
In iho sunnuer of IG IS, lie was translated, by the general assembly, to Ancrum,
in lioxburglishire, wliere ho foinid a people much luoro in need of liis ser-
vices tlian at btranraer. In 10 50, he was one of three clergymen deputed, by
the church, to accompany an embassage which was sent t(j treat Nvith Charles
II., at llio Hague, for his restoration to a limited authority in Scotland. In his
memoirs, 3Ii: Livingston gives a minute account of the negotiations with the
young king, ^^hich tlirows considerable light on that transaction, but cannot
here be entered upon, lie seems to be convinced, however, of the insincerity
of tlio king, though his facility of disposition rendered him an unfit person to
oppose the conclusion of the treaty- Ueing of opinion that the lay ambassadoi*s
were taking the curse of Scotland with them, he refused to embark, and \va6,
at last, brought oil' by stratagem. In the ensuing transactions, as may be
conceived, he took the side of the protestors ; but, upon the whole, he mingled
less in public business than many divines of inferior note in spiritual gifts.
During the protectorate, he lived very quietly in the exercise of his parochial
duties ; and, on one occasion, though inclined to go once moi'e to Ii-e-
land, refused a charge which was offered to him at Dublin, \vith a salary
of £200 a-year. After the restoration, he very soon fell under the dis-
pleasure of the government, and, in April, 1GG3, Avas banished from his na-
tive country, which he never more saw. lie took up his residence at Rotter-
dam, where there was already a little society of clergymen in his own circuni-
stances.

In narrating the events of this part of his life, 3Ir Livingston mentions some
curious traits of his own character and circumstances. " My inclination and
disposition,'' he says, " was generally soft, amorous, averse from debates, rather
given to laziness than rashness, and easy to be wrought upon. I cannot saj
what Luther affirmed of himself concerning covetousness ; but, I may say, I have
been less troubled with covetousness and cares than many other evils. I rather
inclined to solitariness than company. I was much troubled with wandering
of mind and idle thoughts. For outward things, I never was rich, and I
never was in want, and I do not remember that I ever borrowed money,
but once in Ireland, five or six pounds, and got it shortly paid. I choosed
rather to want sundry things than to be in debt. I never put any thing to the
fore of any maintenance I had ; yea, if it had not been for what I got with my
wife, and by the death of her brother, and some others of her friends, I could
hardly have maintained my family, by any stipend I had in all the three places
I was in."

The remainder of his life was spent in a manner more agreeable, perhaps, to
his natural disposition, than any preceding part. He had all along had a desire
to obtain leisure for study, but was so closely pressed, by his ordinary duties,
that he could not obtain it. He now devoted himself entirely to his favourite
pursuit of biblical literature, and had prepared a polyglot bible, which obtained
the unqualified approbation of the most learned men in Scotland, when he was
cut off, on the 9th of August, 1672, in the 70th year of his age. Just before
he expii'ed, his wife, foreseeing the approach of dissolution, desired him to take
leave of his friends. " I dare not," said he, with an affectionate tenderness ;
" but it is likely our parting will be but for a short time." Mr Livingston,
besides his Bible, (as yet unpublished,) left notes descriptive of all the principal
clergymen of his own time, which, with his memoirs, were printed in I75i.
Some of his children emigrated from Scotland to the state of New York, Avhere
their descendants have, in the course of time, become people of the first distinc-
tion and weight in society. The late Dr John II, Livingston, minister of the

SIR GEORGE LOCKHAUT. 471

Keforiiied Dutch church in New York, professor of Divinity to that body, and
president of Queen's college, New Jersey — one of the first men of his age and
country, and to whose memoirs, by Mr Alexander Gunn, ue have been indebt-
ed for some of the preceding facts — was the great-great grandson of the subject
of this memoir.

LOCKHART, (Sir) George, a distinguished constitutional lawyer, and lord
president of the court of session, was the second son of Sir James Lockhart ot
Lee, a judge of the court of session. The period of his birth is unknown,
and the earliest circumstance of his life which has been recorded is, that he
studied for the bar, to which he was admitted on the 8th of January, 1G56, by
the commissioners appointed for the administration of justice in Scotland, under
the gOTernment of Cromwell. ^ The well-known personal interest of his
brother, Sir William Lockhart, with the protector, was probably the means of
introducing his talents to early notice; and on the 14th May, 1658, he was
appointed '' sole attorney,'' or lord advocate of Scotland. On the [restoi-ation
of the monarchy, his family influence procured him favour at court ; and after
taking the oath of allegiance, along with the performance of other somewhat
humiliating ceremonies, expressive of regret for his support to the fallen
government, he was permitted the exercise of his profession, and received the
honour of knighthood in 1GG3. Sir George distinguished himself as an able
barrister, and became a man of power and influence. Notwithstanding favours
extended towards him, such as monarchs too often find sufticient to secure un-
liesitating tools, he used the privileges of his profession frequently against the
court ; and through the progress of the dark deeds perpetrated by Tweeddale
and Lauderdale, his name frequently occurs in the books of Adjournal (the
criminal record of Scotland), as using his professional abilities in favour of the
covenanters. One of the most prominent features of his life, is the struggle
Avhich he headed in 1G74, for procuring by indirect means, and partly through
the influence of the bar, an appeal from the courts of law to the legislature,
unauthorized by the theory of the constitution of Scotland, and directly against
the wishes of the court, to which a body of paid judges, removeable at plea-
sure, seemed a more pliable engine, than an assembly of men, partly elected,
partly holding by hereditary right. He Avas the person who in the suit be-
tween the earl of Dunfermline, and the earl of Gallender and lord Almond,
advised the last mentioned to present an appeal to parliament. ^ The earl
being cited before the privy council to answer for this act, applied to Sir
George Lockhart, Sir Robert Sinclair, Sir George Cunningham, and Sir
George Mackenzie, for information how to act in the matter ; and a paper Avas
drawn up for him by these eminent men, declaring " that he desired nothing
thereby, but to protest for remeid of law ;'' in other words, that he did not
wish the decree of the court of session to be reduced on the ground of injustice
or oppression, but a revisal by the parliament, declaratory or statutory, as to the
law on the point. " In all which," says Sir George Mackenzie, with the bit-
terness of disappointment, " Sir George Lockhart's design was to bring in this
trial before the parliament, hoping thereby that they would lay aside the presi-
dent, and leave the chair vacant for him." Lauderdale immediately proceeded
to court, accompanied by the president of the court of session and one of the
judges ; and on their report of the proceedings, Charles found the matter of
sufficient importance to demand personal interference, and wrote a letter to the

1 Brunton and Haig's Hist, of Col. of Just., 419.

* Those readers who iare not acquainted with the details of this event, may find each
circumstances connected with it as are here omitted, in the life of Sir John Lauder cf
Fountainhall.

473 SIR GEORGE LOCKIURT.

privy council, in uliicli, expressing liis conviction of tlic necessity of preserving
tlie supreme power ol' the college of justice, niid liis " abliorreiico '' of appeals,
ho Avas graciously })leasetl liiat no proceeding shoultl be instituted against
lliose ulio had maintained the politic^il heresy, in case they disavowed it ; hut
that if tlicy did not, tlicy should be tieharred the exercise of tlieir professions.
The consc(juencc of this letter, was the banislimont of Lockhart and Cunning-
ham, and the voluntary exile of fifty advoc;ilos, who chose to resent the insult :
but the manner in which the act is detailed by Sir (jeorge 3Iackenzie, and the
curious views which he casts on the motives and conduct of his great rival,
prompt us to extract the j)assage : — " His majesly having ordained by his let-
ters such as would adhere to that appeal to be debarred from pleading, and Sir
(jleorge Lockhart and Sir John Cunningham being thereupon <;alled in before
the lords, they owned tliat though formal appeals might be said to be contrary
to the ()2 act. par. li James II., yet a protestation for remcid of law might be
allowed ; whereupon they were debarred from their employments, till the king
should declare his farther pleasure. And aliieit it might iiave been i-easonably
concluded, that this exclusion should have pleased the younger advocates, avIioiu
those seniors overshaded, interrupting the chief advantage and honour that was
to be expected in that society ; yet most fearing to ofl'end so eminent men,
who they knew would soon return to tlieir stations, and being pushed on by
the lords of the party, and the discontented persons to whom they o\ved their
employments, went tumultuarily out of the session house with those who were
debarred ; and thus, as Sir George Lockhart broke that society at first by his
avarice, in the matter of the regulations, he bi-oke them now again by his
pride, in the matter of the appeals ; and by raising a clamour against the
president, and joining in the popular dissatisfaction, he diverted early from
himself that great hatred which was so justly conceived against his insolence
and his avarice ; two crimes which were more eminent in him than his
learning."

Although tlie causes of the enmity entertained by Mackenzie towards Lock-
hart are not fully explained, the allusions of the former make it quite clear
that it arose from professional and political rivalry. The king had written to
the burghs, advising them to renew their old acts, against the choosing of repre-
sentatives, " The king's design in this Avas," says Sir George, " to exclude
such as had been factious in the former parliament, and to engage the burghs
to an immediate dependence on the crown." The disafl'ected advocates endea-
voured to inspire the burghs with a wish to oppose the designs of the court ; in
the mean time, however, it was necessary that the king's letter should be an-
swered, and a draught of such a document was prepared for the committee by
Sir George Mackenzie. This letter was sent for the perusal of Lockhart, who
altered it " so as of a discreet and dutiful letter, it became, by adding what was
humorous, and striking out what was discreet, a most nnpolisht and indiscieet
paper. And when Sir George Loc;khart was askt why he had deformed it so,
his answer to James Stewart was, that it was lit to make Sir George ]Mackenzie
unpardonable." Sir George 3Iackenzie alleges that Lockhart had induced him
to join the body in favour of appeals, on the ground that the union of so many
members of the bar would form a formidable opposition to Lauderdale ; and it
is to his enmity against that minister at the period, that, without a better rea-
son, we must date JMackenzie's accession to the cause. But \vhen the king, ou
the 12tli of December, issued a proclamation, declaring, on the word of a
prince, that such of the advocates as should not petition for re-admission before
the 28th of January following, should never be permitted to return to their
profession, Sir George Mackenzie " did so much tender the reputation of his

SIR GEORGE LOCKIIART. 473

lung-, tliat he, having been bedrid of a broken leg when tlie rest were debarr'd
Shunn'd to have himself debarr d, or publicly to own the appeal ; thouo^h to se-
cure such as liad, he declared that he would not return to his employment
without them. Which not satisfying Sir (Jeorge Lockhart, who pressed still
that Sir George Mackenzie should be debarr'd, lie was content, in a letter un-
der his hand, to oblige himself in those terms ; but this letter not having satis-
fied, and he being prest, merely to satisfy Sir George Lockhart's private
humour, he called for his former letter, and wrote in a postscript these words :
* But if I enter, and put myself in the same condition with the rest, I do de-
clare this letter, and all the obligations thtrein, to be void and not obligatory.'
And having owned the appeal with a very undaunted courage, did from that
hour despise that party which had jealous'd him, after so many proofs of his
courage and fidelity, to please a little creature, who had never foUow'd them,
but his own passion, to which he and they were become such slaves, that they had
thereby lost the glory and reputation of impartial reformers, ^vhich had so much
recommended them at first, while they followed Sir George Mackenzie''s disinr
terested advices." Mackenzie then adds a circumstance, which will hardly diminish
tlie suspicion of his tortuous conduct in the business, although it may shed a ray of
additional light on the causes of his rancour towards Lockhart. This is the
letter from which the party concluded Sir George Mackenzie to be guilty of per-
jury, in having entered before the rest ; dispersing copies of the letter, without
tlie postscript, because they knew tiie postscript destroyed their malicious pre-
tences. Before the day which the court had named as the last for receiving the
submission of the recusant advocates, a document, couched in the form of a
petition, but steadily vindicating the right of appeal for remeid of law, was
presented lo the privy council. This very valuable paper, which has been pre-
served at full length by Mackenzie, is full of legal knowledge, and clear concise
reasoning ; it had, however, to strive, not only against power, but also against
precedent ; no clear established law could be found on which to rest the right
of appeal, and a course of ingenious special pleading had to be derived from
implication, and the plea that the court of session was a distinct body from the
ilaily session of old, which, being a committee of parliament set apart for the
purpose of saving the time and trouble of the main body, would have defeated
its end by the admission of appeals. Tlie grand constitutional argument of a
check on the venality of judges, could only be hinted at under the cloak of de-
ference and submission to the royal authority ; and the petitioners thought it
prudent to terminate their certainly firm and manly statement of their rights,
with the concession, that " as the petitioners acknowledge there are eminent
lawyers upon the session, of deserved reputation ; so if the lords of session, by
an act of sederunt, or otherwise, will plainly and clearly declai-e that protesta-
tions for remeid of law, to his majesty and estates of parliament, were and are
in themselves unlawful, and that the parliament cannot thereupon review and
rescind their decreets, if they find just cause ; the petitioners will so far defer
to their authority, as to be concluded thereby, and satisfy what was prescribed
and required by the lords of session as to that point." Mackenzie was induced
to sign this petition : he says, " Sir George Lockhart's love of money making
him weary of that love to revenge, he persuaded the appealers (for so all the
adherers wei-e called) to give in an address to the privy council ; but so bitter
and humorous, that Sir George Mackenzie though he had concur'd in furnishing
materials and argument, did with some others dissent from it ; till they were
again conjur'd, by some of their comrades, not to make a rupture, at a time
wherein their fixt adherence to one another was their only security." ^ The
3 With the petulant remarks on Lockhart, so plentifully scattered through the above

HI. 3 0

47nt SIR GEORGE LOCKHART.

pelilioii uas viewed by tlie piivy cuuncil ami tlie King, as a daring and seditious
jiiece uf pleading ; and Sir Julia Luiiiiiii^liain proceeding to London to endea-
vour L>y liis personal inllucncu to alleviate tlie threatened elfects, ^vas (quickly
I'ollowed by Sir (jeorge LocKliarL and Sir Robert Sinclair ; *' but upon express
promise, " sa\8 ^lackenzie, '' tliat if Sir Cieorge 31ackenzie and those v\lio had
signed the address, should be pursuM i'or it, they shoidd return and concur ^vitll
liiiu in the defence. Notwithstanding whereof," he continues, " they having
been pursu'd in a process before liie privy council, Sir George Lockiiart and
Sir Robert Sinclair retir'd, and lurk't near to North AUerlon, \\ilhout ac<piaint-
ing even their wives of their residence, lest thereby they might have been
adverlis'd. W hereupon Sir George iMackenzie gave in his defence," &:(\ Tiie
defence deserted the constitutional origin of the struggle, and assumed the
aspect of a mere vindication of the motives of presenting the petition. 31acken-
zie at length yielded : as a motive for so doing, he sa)s — but we are aware ot
no document that confirms the assertion — that he " intercepted at last a letter,
wherein they (Lock hart and Sinclair) told their confidents that they had
resolved to wait the event of that process ; in which, if Sir George 31ackenzio
was absolved, they would be secure by the preparative ; but if he was found
guilty, the malice of the pursuers would be blunted before it reaclit them."
Accordingly, on the plausible ground that " it was no dislionour to submit to
their prince, ceding being only dishonourable amongst ecjuals, and never being
so, when the contest was rais'd by such as design'd to make them knaves and
fools," prevailed on the greater number of his brethren to submit Sir George
Lockhart, left to maintain the struggle almost alone, fully aware that unanimity
and number only can give effect to political resistance, presented a tardy submis-
sion in December, 1G75, and was re-admitted to the privileges of his profession
on the 2Sth of January, 1676. * We have dwelt thus long on this incident, be-
cause it is one of the very few constitutional struggles connected with the his*
tory of Scotland, and the curious details lately brought to light in the Memoirs
of Sir George 3Iackenzie, are not very generally perused.

The next political transaction in which we find Lockhart professionally en-
gaged, is the trial of Mitchell in 1678, for having four years previously at-
tempted the murder of archbishop Sharpe. lie was tried on his own confes-
sion, and there is no point of history more surely ascertained, or less liable to
doubt, than that the confession was obtained on a promise of pardon. " But,"
as Burnet expressively says, " Sharpe would have his life." For the purpose
of facilitating the prosecution, Nisbet, the lord advocate, was superseded by 3Iao-
kenzie ; and Primrose, from being clerk register, was appointed justice general
" He fancied," says Burnet, " orders had been given to raze the act that the coun-
cil had made (the act offering the conditional pardon), so he turned the books, and
he found the act still on record. He took a copy of it and sent it to ^litchell's
counsel." Thus armed, Lockhart appeared, to meet the confession. Burnet,
who says, " he was the most learned lawyer and the best pleader I have ever
yet known in any nation," states that " he did plead to the admiration of all,
to sho^v that no extrajudicial confession could be allowed in a court. The

quotations, compare the following published character of the professional abilities of his great
rival, b^ Sir George Maclvenzie, in Lis Eloquence of the Bar— it would be difficult to conceive
a more ptrftct picture of a great forensic orator. ' Lockartius corpus alterum juris civilis,
alterque Cictro dici poterat. llli etiam peculiare erat argumenta sua eo ordine disponere, ut
tanquam lapides in fomice alter alterum susiineret ; quae ex improviso, dum oniret, ei sug-
gerebaiiiur, prompta solertia indic;ibat, aptisque locis disponebat. J\ihil ab eo abscoiulit
jurisprudtntia, et quamprimum casus illi a cliente aperirttur, sua omnia, omniaque adver-
sarii argumenta rettxebat. Iracuiidia, quae alios oratores turbabat, cum tantum excitare
sokbat ; vocem tamen latratu, vultumque rugis deformabat.'
* 3Iackenzie's 31emoirs, 267 to 3t0.

SIR GEORGE LOCKHART. 473

hardships of a prison, the hopes of life, with other practiceg, might draw con-
fessions from men, when they were perhaps drunk, or out of their senses. He
brouglit upon this a measure of learning that amazed the audience, out of the
lawyers of all civilized nations. And when it was opposed to this, that the coun-
cil was a court of judicature, he showed that it was not the proper court for
crimes of this nature, and that it had not proceeded in this as at a court of judi-
cature. And he brought out likewise a great deal of learning upon those heads.
But this was overruled by the court, and the confession was found to be judicial.
The next tiling pleaded for liim was, that it was dra^vn from him upon the hope
and promise of life : and on this Sharpe was examined. The person he had
sent to IMitcheil gave a full evidence of the promises he had made him; but
Sharpe denied them all. He also denied he ever heard any promise of life
made him by the council ; so did the lords Lauderdale, Rothes, and Halton, to
the astonishment of all tliat were present. Lockhart upon tiiat produced a copy
of the act of council, that made express mention of the promise given, and of
his having confessed upon that. And the prisoner prayed that the books of
council, which lay in a room over that in which the court sat, might be sent
for. Lockhart pleaded, that since the court had judged that the council was a
judicature, all people had a right to search into their registers ; and the
prisoner, who was like to suffer by a confession made there, ought to have the
benefit of those books. Duke Lauderdale, who was in the court only as a wit-
ness, and so had no right to speak, stood up, and said he and those other noble
persons were not brought thither to be accused of perjury; and added, that
the books of council were the king's secrets, and that no court should have the
perusing of them. The court was terrified with this, and the judges were di-
vided in opinion. Prinn-ose and one other was for calling for the books, but
three were of opinion that they were not to furnish the prisoner Avith evidence,
but to j idge of that which he brought, and here Avas only a bare copy, not at-
tested upon oath, which ought not to have been read. So this defence being
rejected, he was cast and condemned."^ I'erhaps the annals of crime scarcely
produce another so perfect specimen of judicial villany.

The talents and courage of Lockhart were employed by the duke of Argyle
at his memorable trial in 1681 ; three times the privy council denied him the
sanction of their warrant — unfortunately often necessary at that period for the
safety of the lawyer who should defend a person accused of treason — and it was
at last granted, lest Argyle, on the gi-ound that he was deprived of legal assis-
tance, might interrupt the trial by refusing to plead. In the parliament of
1681, he was appointed one of the commissioners of the shire of Lanark, a seat
which he held till his death, and in 1685, after the fall of his opponents in the
ministry, Ave find him one of the committee appointed to answer the king's
letter to the parliament, and a lord of the articles.® In 1685, on the death of
Sir David Falconer of Newton, Lockhart Avas appointed pi-esident of the court
of session, and AAas soon afterAvards made a privy councillor, and a commissioner
of the exchequer. Having in the year 1679. boldly undertaken the task of
representing before the king the grieAances against Lauderdale, he Avas
considered one of the chief political opponents of that minister, and seems to
have been gradually led to a participation Avith the proceedings of the duke of
York. After having folloAved the actions of a high minded man through the
path of honour, and seen him use his talents and influence in the protection of
the Aveak, and resistance to the powerful, it is painful to arrive at transactions,
in which the presence of his accustomed firmness, or integrity, may seem AAant-
ing. He is said to have been at first opposed to a repeal of the penal laAvs
* Burnet, i. '11. « Act. Pari., viii. 456,7.

470 GEORGE LOCKHART.

ng.iiiist pnpisis, but after a journey to Londun, concerted for tlie purpose of over-
coming liis s( riij)les, to have ontorlainetl a «lilierent view' — a view which, it is to
be feared, was jtrddiiced iiioie by the benigisant smih; of royalty, tlian by a sud-
den accession of iil)erai i)rin(-iples. On the cjuestion of tlie applicaltilily of tlie dis-
abling laws to the duke of York, he somewhat sophistically maintained that " a
conntiission to represent the king's person fell nut under the notion of an of-
fice." ^ 15ut, if he chose to assist the court in obtaining its ends by legal means,
his former spirit relumed on an attempted stretch of arbitrary power, and be
objected to the privy council's sanctioning a relaxation, in favour of the Itonian
catholics, becoming law, througli the mere roya! prerogative.^

Tliis great man, vnIiosb talents and courage would liavc adorned a better
period, fell a victim to the fury of one of those savages which misgovernuient
produces. He was murdered by John Chiesley of Dairy on the SUt of March,
1689.

The determination to commit the murder on the part of this man, arose from
a dispute with his wife, the latter claiming aliment for herself and ten chil-
dren, and the parties consenting that the claim should be settled by the arbitra-
tion of Lockhart and lord Kemnay, who gave a decree appointing an annual
sum out of Chiesley's estate to be paid to his wife. Infuriated at not being
permitted to deprive his wife and offspring of their daily bread, he formed tlie
resolution of taking vengeance on the president at whatever cost On conntiu-
nicating his intention to Mr James Stewart, advocate, he was answered that " it
was a suggestion of tlie devil, and the very imagination of it a sin before God;"
to which he replied, " Let God and me alone ; we have many things to reckon
betwixt us, and we will reckon this too." The victim, it appears, was informed
of his intention ; but he disdained precautions. The murderer confessed that,
when in London, he had walked up and down Pali-mall, with a pistol beneath
his coat, lying in wait for the president. 'Ihe day on which he consummated
the deed was Sunday. He charged his pistol, and went to church, where he
watched the motions of his victim, and when Lockhart was returning to his own
house (hrough the close or lane on the south side of theLawn Market, now known
by the name of " The Old Bank Close," following close behind him, discharged
a shot, which took effect. The president fell, and being carried into his own
house, immediately expired, the ball having passed through his body. Chiesley
did not attempt to escape, and, on being told that the president was dead, he
expi-essed satisfaction, and said " he was not used to do things by halves.'' He
was put to the torture, and made a full confession, and having been seen com-
mitting the act, and apprehended immediately alter, or as it is technically
termed, " red hand" he was summarily tried before the provost of Edinburgh,
as sheriff within the city. He was sentenced to have his right hand cut off
while alive, to be hanged upon a gibbet with the instrument of murder suspend-
ed from his neck, and his body to be hung in chains between Leilh and
Edinburgh.'"

LOCKHART, Geokge, a celebrated political partisan, and author of Memoirs
concerning the Affairs of Scotland, Connuentaries, &c., &'c., was the eldest son of
the above, by Philadelphia, youngest daugiiter of Philip, fourth lord Wharton.
He was born in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, in the year 1G73. He ap-
pears to have been educated for the Scottish bar, but, having succeeded, on the
death of his father, to a very ample fortune, he seems to liave turned his at-
tention chiefly to politics, and liaving obtained a seat in the Scottish parliament,
1703, he distinguished himself by liis opposition to all the measures of the

' Fouutaiuhnll's Diniy, 167. 8 Bunut, i. 4C8. " Fouiitainhall, 192.

"^ Ariiot's Crim. Tr., 1C8-74.

GEORGE LOCKHART. 477

court, and his ceaseless activity in behalf of the fallen episcopal church, and the
exiled royal family. Singularly unlike his father, in discernment of the jus-
tice of a cause and liberality of principle, he appears to have resembled him in
the stubborn courage with \vhich he pursued any favourite object. To all the
principles of the Revolution, he professed a deep aversion, and the union of
the kingdoms of Scotland and England he considered, especially in regard to
the former, as likely to terminate in that misery which a peculiar class of poli-
ticians always argue to be the consequence of any change, or some reason which
it is diflicult to fathom; he was, however, named, by the queen, one of the
commissioners upon that famous treaty, and, with the exception of the arch-
bishop of York, was the only tory that was so named. " He had no inclina-
tion to the employment," he has himself told us, " and was at first resolved not
to hav3 accepted it, but his friends, and those of his party believing he might
be serviceable, by giving an account how matters were carried on, prevailed
with him to alter his resolution." Before entering upon the duties of his high
office, he accordingly took their advice, in what manner he was to conduct
himself, and in particular, " whether or not he should protest and enter his
dissent against those measures, being resolved to receive instructions from them,
as a warrant for Ins procedure, and to justify his conduct : so, when they all
unanimously returned this answer, that if he should protest, he could not well
continue longer to meet with the other commissioners ; and, if he entered his
dissent, it would render him odious to them, and that they would be extremely
upon the reserve with him, so as he would be utterly incapable to learn any
thing that might be useful afterwards in opposing the design ; \vhereas, if he
sat quiet, and concealed his opinion as much as possible, they, expecting to
persuade him to leave his old friends and party, would not be so shy, and he
might make discoveries of their designs, and thereby do a singuLir service to
his country ; therefore they agreed in advising him, neither to protest or dissent,
nor do any thing that might discover his opinion and design, unless he could
find two or thi-ee more that would concur and go along with him, (which was
not to be expected,) but to sit silent, making his remarks of every thing that
passed, and remain Avith them as long as he could ; and then, at last, before
signing the result of the treaty, to find out some pretence of absenting himself."
Such were the feelings and intentions which he brought to the accomplishment
of a transaction which he \vas chosen for the purpose of furthering-, in the most
expeditious and most efficient manner ; and he relates with pride that he acted
up to his instructions, that he acted as a spy on the proceedings of the others,
and, at least, was enabled to interrupt and render more laborious the consum-
mation of a measure which his party was unable to stifle. The archbishop, dis-
daining to follow a similar course, absented himself from the meetings.

But Lockhart had other and more dangerous duties to perform for his party ;
he held a commission from the Scottish Jacobites to communicate with the Eng-
lish tories, and, if possible, to ascertain how far the latter might be brought to
concur in a scheme, projected in Scotland, for the restoration of the son of the
abdicated monarch by force. This commission he executed with similar fidelity,
but he found the English less zealous than the Scots, and disinclined to any
attempt, at least during the lifetime of the queen. All the transactions which
might be interesting to the exiled family, he faithfully reported to the courts of
Versailles and St Germains, through the instrumentality of an emissary, called
captain Straiton, while he submitted his proceedings to the cognizance of his
brother Jacobites, whom he aplly termed his constituents. His account of the
proceedings of the commissioners, is distorted by party colouring, beyond the
usual allotment of such documents, and one is tempted to ask how a person, who

47S GEORGE LOCKHART.

saw, in every branch of tlie jn-oceetlings, soiiielliiiig so iiiedeciiia])ly \vi<;lM;(l,
could liave so far comproiuiscd liis conscience, ns to liavc |ierniittc<l liiniself tu
be (lioscii as one of those wliose duly it was to assist in and fiirliicr tlicni.

The scheme of a general rising was designed for the j»iir|)ose of stifling the
projected union ; but the attempt lia\ing failed, the Jacobites \sere conipelled to
debate the treaty, clause by clause, in open parliament, where, notwithstanding
every artifnre for exciting public clamour, it wns triumphantly cirried. Loi;k-
liart, through the whole, was uniform in his opposition — adiiered to every pro-
test that was taken against it, and, in more than one instance, entered protests
against it in his own name. He also, in conjunction with Cochrane of Kilmaro-
nock, gave fifty guineas to Cunningham of lu:katt, for the purpose of forward-
ing a design of forcibly dispersing the parliament by an army of Caiueronians,
which he proposed to raise in the \veslern shires, but whicii, as he alleged, he
was prevented from doing by the intrigues of tlie duke of Hamilton.

Tile union having been ratified by the parliaments of both kingdoms, and
peaceably carried into effect, the next hope of the Jacobites was the 1 rench
invasion, which llooke had negotiated with them during the preceding year, and
to which they now looked forward with the most ardent expectation. Of all
the partizans of James, perhaps none were more zealous, on this o<-.casion, than
the subject of this memoir ; but, fortunately for himself, he follo\ved in the
train, and acted by the advice of the duke of Hamilton, who, being at the time
at his seat in Lancaster, and taken tliere into custody by a king's messenger,
could not meet his Scottish friends at Dumfries, according to agreement, till the
defeat of the French fleet rendered any further appearance at that time unne-
cessary, in consequence of which he himself, as well as his friends, escaped any
thing like serious prosecution. i\Ir Lockhart also liavijug the powerful influence
of his uncle, lord Wharton, exerted in his favour, remained unmolested.

'i he next hope of the Jacobites was in the inclinations of the queen, which,
with all her coldness, they naturally expected, and indeed had, if we may be-
lieve their own a(;count, and lay much Aveight on a few accidental circumstances,
a well-grounded hope, that they might be exli ; Jed to her brother and his
family ; and that they might more effectually influence her counsels, it ^vas re-
solved, that no influence or endeavour should be spared in procuring seats in
parliament for the heads of the party. BIr Lockhart started, for the county
of Edinburgh, and had sufflcient interest to secure his election, though he was
obnoxious both to the court and the presbyterians, to whom he seems to have
been always inimical. Ihe first session of the first British parliament, did
not afford much scope for that species of ingeimity for which 3Ir Lockhart
lias taken so nmch credit to himself; and by his efforts, joined to those of iMr
Houston, younger of Houston, Lag, younger of Log, Luff of Drumniure, and
Cochrane of Kilmaroncck, all unwavering supporters of the same political creed,
little or nothing was effected. The next session was almost wholly occupied
with the affair of Sacheverel, in whose behalf the Jacobites were joined by those
supporteis of the house of Hanover, who either conceived, or for political pur-
poses alleged, that the church was in danger, while the afiairs 'of Scotland were
neglected amidst more exciting discussions. A field was soon, however, to bo
opened, in which they doubted not shortly to reap a rich harvest.

At the period when a waiting woman in the queen's bed-chamber was sap-
ping the foundation of the Godolphin and 3Larlborough administration, that
ministry requested leave to dismiss 3Irs 3L-isham, threatening her with an ad-
dress from the two houses of parliament ; to which was to be attached an invi-
tation to Prince George, of Hanover. " As such treatment much chagrined the
queen against her ministry," says Lockhart, " she was very desirous to secure

GEORGE LOCKHART. 479

herself against such nttempts, and did avowedly solicite a great many members
of both liouses of parliament, that they uould not consent to a motion to deprive
her of tlie liberty allow'd to the meanest housekeeper in her dominions, viz,,
tliat of choosing her own domestic servants." — " And I accordingly," continues
the narrator, in a very remarkable passage bearing on one of tlie most obscure
points in British history, " pi-ocured an address, in a very high monarchical
style, from the barons and freeholders in the county of Edinburgh; and having
brought it up with me uhen I came to parliament, I was introduced by the
duke of Hamilton to present the same ; and having read it to her majesty, she
seemed very well pleased, gave a gracious return to the address, and then told
me, tho' I had almost always opposed her measures, she did not doubt of my
affection to her person, and hoped I would not concur in the design against Mrs
Masham, or for bringing over the prince of Hanover, At first 1 was somewhat
sui-prised, but recovering myself, I assured her I should never be accessary to
imposing any hardship or affront upon her ; and as for the prince of Hanover,
her majesty might judge, from the address I had read, that I should not be ac-
ceptable to my constituents, if I gave my consent for bringing over any of that
family, either now or any time hereafter. At this she smiled, and I withdrew ;
and then she said to the duke, she believed I was an honest man ; and the duke
replied, he could assure her I liked her majesty and all her father's bairns." '
The gradual steps towards a delicate and dangerous subject, so naturally laid
down in this valuable passage — the hope expressed by the queen that the Jaco-
bite partisan was averse to the removal of the favourite, and the introduction of
the prince — the surprise of the Jacobite, and his ingenious extension of the re-
quest— the queen's smile and remark on his honesty — and, finally, the cautious
but bold extension of the insinuations in the kindly rejoinder of the duke, all
speak to the authenticity of the scene, and the accurate observation of the nar-
rator. That he may be depended on, there is little doubt. The cautious Hal-
lam considers that the Lockhart Papers sufliciently prove that the author " and
his friends were confident of the queen's inclinations in the last years of her
life, though not of her resolution." Nor can a vanity to be esteemed the depo-
sitory of the secrets of princes, be likely to operate on a man whose works are
not to be witnessed by his own age. On the whole, the passage may be said
almost to prove that the queen's " inclinations" were with her brother ; but a
" resolution " on either side, she appears to have never attained.

The circumstance last mentioned was soon followed by the renowned downfall
of Anne's whig ministry. Strong but ineffectual attempts were made by the whigs
at the elections. Lockhart was violently opposed in Edinburghshire, but carried
his election by a great majority, as did Sir Hugh Paterson of Bannockburn for
the shire of Stirling, and Sir Alexander Areskine, lord lyon king at arms, for the
shire of Fife, both thorough paced Jacobites and violent episcopalians, Tiie last
of these gentlemen, along with Mr Carnegie of Boysack, Mr James Murray, se-
cond son to the viscount Stormont, afterwards created by the Pretender lord
Dunbar, and Sir Alexander Cuming of Cantar, joined IMr Lockhart in a close
confederacy, agreeing to mutual support, in cordially prosecuting tlie great ob-
jects for which they had come into parliament, viz., the dissolving of the treaty
of union, and the breaking up of the protestant succession. Keeping their agree-
ment as secret as was compatible with its efficacy, and prudently cultivating the
friendship of the English tories, they soon became conspicuous, and were re-
garded by both sides of the house as men of superior consequence, whose feel-
ings and views it was necessary to consult in all measures regarding Scotland.
The first fruit of this confederacy was a broach of the union, committed by the
1 Lcddiart Papers, i. 307.

480 GEORGE LOCKHART.

liouso of lords, in reversing^ a sentence of the magistrntes of Edinburgh whicli
shut up the nieetiiig-house ol" a iVIr (jircensliielils, tiie first clergyman nlio intro-
duced the Kngliih lilur-jy into tlie service of tiie Scots lliiismiial church. Tiie
full harvest was tiie act uf toleration, uitli the oatli of abjuration annexed, to be
imposed upon ail the ministers of tiie Scottish cluir(;ii ; the act restoring lay
patronage ; and the act for tlie observing certain Imlidays, all of uhicli were pre-
pared by 3Ir Lockhart, and by him and liis friends forced upon the ministry,
contrary to tlie expressed opinion of the people, and wilh the avo\\ed purpose
of undermining the presbyterian interest.

At tlie same time tliat lie was so deeply engaged in forwarding the particular
views of himself and liis friends, in regard to aflairs purely Scoltisli, 3Ir Lock-
hart was also employed upon the more general business, or what >iiay be called
the drudgery of tiie house. He was one, and the only Scotsman, who was upon
the commission of tlic liouse for examining the national accounts, A\ith tiie view
of criminating the ex-whig ministers; and, as chairman of lliat commission, gave
in a long report, intended to implicate the duke of JMarlborough, a person
whose conduct was certainly not pure, while it still aflbrds a pleasing contrast
to that of his accusers. '1 lie report, however, ^vhen it came to be examined,
discovered only tlie headstrong party spirit of its autliors, and not much against
the accused, but the usual political corruption, too characteristic of tlie period.

The duties of a commissioner upon the national accounts, did not, however,
by any means absorb the whole attention of tlie indefatigable Lockhart, for while
he devoted himself to the service of the pretender, he also proposed a bill in
parliament to bestow upon curates the bishops' rents, to resume all grants of
church property that had been made to the universities, whicli he declared to
be public nuisances, mere nests of rebellion, which could not be soon enough
annihilated. Tlie service to be accomplished in favour of the exiled family by
these measures, is not very clear, and we are prevented from knowing the eflect
their proposal would have produced, from his friends declining to adopt them.
So high, indeed, was he borne by his zeal, that an order was obtained by his
friends from St Germaiiis, recommending to him moderate measures, and dis-
suading him from attempts to openly force the English ministry upon despei'atc
projects, as they were themselves well enough disposed, and were the best judges
of the means whereby their good intentions would be carried into ert'ect. This
order he dared not disobey, but he owns it was much against his inclination,
and takes the liberty of atHrming that it injured the pretender's interest.

On the duke of Hamilton being appointed ambassador to the court of Erance,
lie selected the subject of our memoir to wait privately upon him, and to act
according to his orders upon an affair of extraordinary moment, Avhich he never
explained, but which Lockhart understood to be the pretender's restoration, and
he was just leaving Scotland with the hope of being called to accompany the
duke upon that pleasing duty, when he heard that a quarrel betwixt Hamilton
and lord 3Iohun had brought both these distinguished noblemen to an untimely
end. This circumstance he affirms to have been fatal to the hopes of the pre-
tender, no one having been found capable of conducting so delicate a business
till the period wlien disputes in the cabinet and the death of the queen rendered
the case hopeless. But these circumstances did not damp his ardour, or prevent
liim from impeding the government, which he could not overturn. According-
ly, on the attempt to extend the malt tax to Scotland, in the year 1713, he
made a desperate effort, in which he was seconded by the earls of 3Iar, Egliii-
ton. Hay, &&, for the dissolution of the union, a project which narrowly failed
of success, as we have narrated more at large in the life of John, duke of
Argyle. The attempt to assimilate the Scottish to the English militia which fol-

GEORGE LOCKHART. 481

lowed, he resisted, and, in his personal friendship, defended the hereditary title
of the duke of Argyle to the lieutenancy of the county of Argyle. His friends,
who could not see the advantage of such a measure, were displeased, but his
design was to bring over the duke to the interests of the Pretender, of which he
M'as always suspicious the ministry were less careful than of their own. He,
however, continued to sit and to act with them, under the strongest assurances
from Bolingbroke, that every thing he could desire would be done for the Pre-
tender so soon as it was possible to do it with safety, till the prorogation before
the death of the queen, when he retired to his residence in the country, and
though the same parliament was assembled on the death of the queen, did not
attend it, having lost all hope of the Pretender's restoration by other means
than arms.

He accordingly began privately to provide horses and arms for himself and
his dependants, though from his late conduct he was not trusted by the leaders
of the party to the extent that might have been expected. Nothing, indeed,
but mere general surmises seem to have I'eached him till the month of August,
1715, when warrants wei-e already issued out against all \vho were suspected
as favouring the designs of the earl of IMar, and under one of these warrants he
was, early in that month, apprehended at his house of Dryden, and committed
prisoner to the castle of Edinburgh. In these circumstances he immediately
wrote to the duke of Argyle, who, in return for his services in regard to the
militia bill, procured his enlargement, after he had been fifteen days a prisoner,
on his giving bail for six thousand merks. He was no sooner liberated than he
waited upon his rebel associates, who had not been apprehended ; but, finding
them still disinclined to the communication, he retired to his house at Carnwath,
where he secretly and diligently employed his personal influence in the further-
ance of the cause, though still unacknowledged by any of the ostensible leaders
of tiie insurrection, and waited till the arrival of the Pretender, or the transit of
the Forth by Mar, should give the signal for him and his friends to appear in
arms. In the mean time, a letter from the duke of Argyle informed him that
his practices were well known to the government, and requiring him forthwith
to repair to his house at Dryden. Every thing, arms, horses, &a, were again
disposed of in the best manner that could be devised, and he immediately re-
paired to Dryden, where he negotiated with Kenmure and the southern re-
bels; his troop of horse, under the command of his brother Philip Lock-
hart, being sent to join them at Biggar, he himself staying behind for a
few days to arrange some minor concerns. To ensure his safety after conclud-
ing his transactions with the rebels, he wrote to the lord justice clerk, request-
ing to know whether he should remain in Edinburgh or go home to Dryden,
and was ordered to choose the latter alternative. 3Iackintosh, however, having
that night crossed the Forth, on his march to the south, a party of soldiers was
sent out to Dryden, who apprehended Lockhart, and carried him again to the
castle ; a circutustance which saved both his life and his estate, as well as those
of many others who were prepared to set out with him on an expedition that
proved desperate — his whole troop being taken at Preston, along with the rest
of their companions, and his brother shot as a deserter by order of a court-
martial.

Mr Lockhart suffered a long confinement, but escaped, through the steadiness
of his friends, that punishment which was likely to have followed his conduct,
and which the government, could they have elicited sufficient evidence, would
most willingly have inflicted ; but he was by no means cured of his aflection for
the exiled family, and before two years had elapsed, he was employed as an
agent to bring up six thousand bolls of oatmeal, to be given to the king of

482 GEORGE LOCKHART.

fciueden as tTic hire or tlie reward for liis setting the Pretender upon the British
throne. Olall the attempts made by tlie party in its despair, this was ceilainly
the most singular ; yet lio seems to liavc embarlted in it Avitii that ardour which
marked his charaeter, and lie contrived to obtain, from the earl of Jlylinton,
the oiler of three thousand guineas towards its accomplishment. It was soon,
however, found to be a project which <;()uld not he carried into effect, lie nar-
rowly escaped being involved in tl'.e art'air of (ilenshiel, and when the Spanish
battalion was brought to lulinburgh, he supplied the commander, Don Nicolas,
with what money he wanted till he could be supplied with bills from the Span-
isli ambassador in Holland, telling him, at the same time, that " it was unkind
in him to allow himself to be straightened, when he knew the king, for whoso
cause he sull'ered, had so many friends in town that would cheerfully assist
him.'

In 17 IS, the Pretender commenced a cori'cspondence with Mr Lockhart,
Avhich continued with little interruption till 1727, when it fell into the hands
of the government, hy what means has never been fully explained, though most
probably it was in consequence of a dispute I\Ir Lockhart had got into with the
episcopal college, respecting the election of a bishop of the name of Gillon,
whose ordination was keenly opposed by a number of the presbyters, who ob-
jected to the nomination that had been made of him by the Pretender, as unduly
influenced by Lockhart, uho, for a number of years, had been the only channel
through Avhich they communicated with their exiled prince. IMany meetings
were held, and much rancour displayed on the subject, by the enraged presbyters,
who threatened the consequences of the rebellion, in which most of the parties
were implicated, if the consecration was persisted in. The bitterness of the
disputants made it impossible for them to be secret : the whole came before the
public, and the government being masters of the channel of communication,
the earliest packet transmitted to Lockhart was waited for, and sent to London.
Orders were immediately sent to seize Strahan, a merchant in Leith, to whom
the packet had been directed, and, under a strong guard of dragoons, to send
him to London, Before setting out, however, he was well instructed how to con-
duct himself, supplied with money by Lockhart, and the earls of Kincardine and
Dundonald, witli the assurance, that if he behaved with firmness, nothing could
be brought legally home to him, while his family, in the mean time, should be
carefully seen to, and he himself would gain honour by the incident Warrants
were at the same time issued for the apprehension of JMr Lockhart and Mr
Corsar, one of his friends. The latter was apprehended at Glammis, hut the
former, taking the alarm, effected his escape into Durham, ^\here he remained
in the house of a friend till the 8th of April, when he sailed for Dor t, where he
ai-rived in safety. He immediately wrote to the Pretender, through lord Inver-
ness, stating the circumstances into which he had fallen, and that he was wait-
ing his master's commands before finally resolving hoAV to dispose of himself.
In the mean time, he met lord North and Grey at Brussels, who had also been
under the necessity of leaving his native country for dabbling in the affairs of
the Pretender, and Avas thus far on his way to the court of that personage, where
he hoped to be trusted with the management of his affairs, which, in the hands
of colonel Hay and James Tdurray, (created lords Inverness and Dunbar,) were
generally supposed to have fallen into disorder, pressing at the same time that
Mr Lockhart should accompany him, and take charge of the affairs of Scotland,
while he attended to those of England. Lockhart, however, would not ap-
proach the court of the Pretender without his orders, shrcAvdly suspecting that
James was too fond of the lady Inverness, who was lord Dunbar's sister, to part
permanently with either of the three. 'I he lord North and Grey proceeded to

GEORGE LOCKHART, 483

his destination, but found, instead of the premiership which he expected, an
appointment provided for him in the array of Spain, with which he was obliged
to be content. Inverness had been nominally superseded by Sir John Graham
A\ho proposed the most flattering terms to Lockhart; but the former was still first
in the Pretender's affection, and, along- with Dunbar, held the entire nianngeuient
of his counsels, which were, and had long been, very far from what tlie latter
gentleman wished. By their advice, and in pursuance of his own feelings, the
Pretender no sooner heard of the death of George I. than he left Bologna for
Lorrain in the greatest haste, intending to put himself at the head of the High-
landers, and with their assistance, conquer and secure the throne of the three
kingdoms; a similar project to that which his son attempted in the year 1745.
A messenger wa§ sent to consult Lockhart, who, astonished at the folly of the
proposal, assured the Pretender that it would prove the ruin of himsalf and
all his friends, and would deprive him of the power of ever again renewing the
attempt. More wise than his son upon a like occasion, he accepted the advice,
and returned to Avignon. Lockhart tendered him, afterwards, some long
letters, containing very good advices, with which he probably had little hope
that he would comply, and learning, in the month of April, 1728, that his
friends the duke of Argylo, lord Hay, and Duncan Forbes, then lord advocate
for Scotland, had procured him liberty to return and to live at home unmolested,
he embraced the opportunity of doing so, nothing being required of him but his
simple promise that he would live in peace. He was, however, required to go
by the way of London, and to return thanks personally to George II., who was
jiow in possession of tiie throne. " This," he says, " did not go well down
with me, and was what I would most gladly have avoided ; but there was no
eviting of it ; and as others, whose sincere attachment to the king was never
doubted, had often preceded me on such like occasions, I \vas under the necessity
of bowing my knee to Baal, now that I was in the house of Rimmon." Hav-
ing performed this piece of unwilling submission, he returned to his family in
1728, evidently in despair of furthering the cause in which he had so long
exerted himself, and determined to resign all connexion with politics. Of his
after history, we have been unable to learn more than that he was slain iu
a duel on December 17, 1731, having entered the fifty-ninth year of his
age.

He was married on the 13th of April, 1G97, to Enphemia Blontgomery,
third daughter of Alexander, ninth earl of Eglinton, by his first wife, Margaret,
daughter of William, lord Cochrane, son of the earl of Dundonald. He had
seven sons and eight daughters. His eldest son George, possessing somewhat
of the prudent foresiglit of his father, delivered himself up in the year 1746, to
Sir John Cope, the day after the battle of Gladsnmir, and was for a consider-
able time a prisoner at large in England. His grandson George, continued
with Charles till after the fatal battle of Culloden, after which he es(;aped to
the continent, and died an exile at Paris some few months before his father, in
theyearl7Gl.

As an author, Mr Lockhart is entitled to very considerable praise. His Me-
moirs concerning the Affairs of Scotland, and his commentaries, though neither
so clear nor so impartial as could be wished, are yet valuable materials for his-
tory, and throw very considerable light both upon the individual characters and
transactions of those times. And his register of letters is still more interesting"
as giving us not only an account of the proceedings, but the acts themselves, of
the Jacobites of the period. His memoirs were surreptitiously published during
his lifetime, by a friend to whom he had lent them, and a key to ihe names
(given in the published volume in initials) was afterwards circulated. He lefi

4Si SIR WILLIAM LOCKIIART.

his papers carofiilly conr.ealeil, with instructions to liis heir, to abstain from pub-
lishing thenj till the year 1750; but the connexion of his grandson with the
rebellion of 1745 rendering their appearance even then inexpedient, they lay
unnoticed tnitil, at the request of count Lockiiarl, they ^vere edited by 3Ir An-
thony Anfrere in 1817.

We have only to add, that in private life his character seems to have been
exceedingly amiable, and he enjoyed, in a high degree, the respect and affec-
tion, notwithstanding the contrariety of their political principles, of the best
and wisest public man of his age, Duncan Forbes of ('ulloden.

LOGKIIAUr, (Sni) Wilt,iam, of Lee, an eminent statesman under the Pro-
tectorate of Cromwell, was tiie third son of Sir James Lockhart of Lee, by 3Iar-
tha, daughter of Douglas of ^lordingston. He was born in the year 1021, and
received the earlier part of his education in Scotland, whence he jtroceedud to
some one of the usual seminaries in Holland. He did not long remain in that
country, but after visiting Scotland for a short period, joined the French army
as a volunteer, and so far distinguished himself as to attract the attention of the
queen mother, who procured for him a pair of colours.^ He subsequently ac-
companied lord William Hamilton to Scotland, and accepted the appointment
of lieutenant-colonel in that nobleman's regiment.

In the course of his military duty he was introduced to Charles I., at his sur-
render to the Scottish army before Newark. He was on this occasion knighted,
and was afterwards employed to negotiate for the safety of the marquis of More-
ton. Having joined in the enterprise of the duke of Hamilton, called the En-
gagement, he was taken prisoner in the unfortunate action at Preston, and after
remaining a year in custody at Newcastle, regained his liberty at the serious
cost (at that period) of one thousand pounds. Having attached himself to the
house of Hamilton, he necessarily attracted the jealous notice of the rival noble-
man, Argyle, and on several occasions subsequent to the arrival of Charles II.
in Scotland, sufiered, through its influence, a degree of contumely from the
king, which roused his haughty spirit to exclaim, that " No king upon earth
should use him in that manner." But while he did not conceive that he should
suffer the insults of a king with more patience than those of any other man,
his private feeling towards the nominal head of the government did not inter-
fere with his duty to his country, and his services to the cause he had adopted
as the best. He remained an officer in Charles's army, and his regiment was
distinguished for its services at the battle of Worcester. The cause of monarchy
being now suppressed in both ends of the island, he remained for two years in
retirement ; but, weary of keeping in dormancy powers which he was aware
might distinguish him in the service of the state, he repaired to London, and
was welcomed by the Protector, who never permitted a man of Lockhart's
powers to remain unwillingly idle. From which side the advances were made
appears not to be known ; it was probably from that of Lockhart. This step is
the more sui-prising as he had belonged to that party of the Scottish presby-
terians which used to regard monarchy with most respect. On the 18th of
I\Iay, 1652, he was appointed one of the commissioners for the administration
of justice in Scotland, and in 1G51, the Protector gave him one of his nieces
in marriage," and raised him to the possession of the highest political influence

' Harding's Biogrnphical Mirror, iii.54.

' Hiirdiiig wills the niece ' Robina Sewstcr.' Noble thinks the I;idy wliom Lockhart
married was probably a daughter of Desborough, because secretary Thurloe writes to Lock-
hart, " H. H. (the Protector) doe very much rejoice to hear that }our lad}' is in a way of
recover)-, and so doth general Desborough, and truly no more than 30UIS, &c. " — House of
Cromwell, ii. 256.

SIR WILLIAM LOCKHAHT. 4«5

in the land. In 1654 and 105(5, he represented the shiie of Lanark in Crom-
well's parliaments. He was also appointed one of the trustees for disposing of
the forfeited estates of the royalists, and a member of the Protector's privy
council for Scotland.

On the 14th December, 1655, he was appointed ambassador from England to
Louis XIV. ; a duty which, at that dangerous period, when the British govern-
ment was acknowledged abroad only from its strength, was eminently calcu-
lated to bring out the peculiar energies of his mind. He did not proceed on
his mission until April, 1656;^ a circumstance Avhich probably accounts for
his having sat for Lanark during that year. The character both of the
government and its servant quickly secured respect. " He was," says Clarendon,
" received with great solemnity, and was a man of' great address in treaty, and
had a marvellous credit and power with the cardinal Mazarine.' His country-
man Burnet, who probably knew him better, says, " He was both a wise and
gallant man, calm and virtuous, and one that carried the generosities of friend-
ship very far. He was made governor of Dunkirk, and ambassador, at the
same time. But he told me that when he was sent afterwards ambassador by
king Ciiarles, he found he had nothing of that regard that was paid him in
CroinAvell's time."^ He arrived at Dieppe on the 24th of April, and was re-
ceived with all the civic lionours which the town could bestow." An alliance
Avith France in opposition to Spain, and indeed anything resembling amity
towards the former nation, was considered an anomaly in the British constitu-
tion resembling an infraction of the laws of nature, and the measure, al-
though it was boldly undertaken, and successfully executed, has met the repro-
bation of historians, whose simple statement of its impolicy and folly is embraced
in the terms, " An alliance between Great Britain and France." But the
union was an act of almost diplomatic necessity on the part of the Protector,
from the alliance (as it was termed) of Spain with the exiled Charles ; and with
whatever reluctance the French may have at first looked upon the novelty.
Mazarine found himself associated with a government whose assistance Avas use-
ful, and whose enmity might be dangerous.

From the inHuence of the clergy alone was any opposition to be dreaded.
" 1 have receaved," says the ambassador, " many civill messages from persons of
honour and good interest ; and I fynd also, that my being here is much dis-
lyked by others, especiallie by the assembly of the clergy. And," he continues,
in the manner of the period, " I shall make it my endeavour to wait upon God
for his directione and protectione, and shall verie little trouble myself with their
menaces." But Lockhart found that the French were at least lukewarm in as-
sisting the vast designs of Cromwell, and that they Avere naturally averse to be
the mere auxiliaries of their natural enemies, in subjecting those neighbouring-
provinces Avhich had often called forth the full power of their armies.

Lockhart, accordingly, takes many occasions to express the discontent of his

The following ^jassage from the same source is perhaps more conclusive : —
Colonel Lockhart to Secretary Thurloe.

" When I had the honour to tiike leave of )ou, 1 had }our permission lo give you trouble in
any business wherein I was concerned; therefore being engaged by articles of agreement
with general Desbrowe to make a purchase in England -for a settlement to my wife and hei
children, and the dale being elapsed, by which time I Avas bound either to make a purchase,
or to secure so much money by way of mortgage upon land in England, 1 am bould to be-
seech you to move his highness, for leave to me for a month to come to London for settling
that atiair." &c. Edinburgh, December 25th, \6b5.—Thurlos's Slate Papers, iv. 312.

^ Thurloe, iv., 647, 728.

* History, vii., 180.

* Burnet's Own Times, i. 76.
« Thuiloe, iv , 739.

480 SIR WILLIAM LOCKHART.

energetic temper r.t ilie intorniptioiis lll^o^vll in liis way. Alludinjr to the car-
•linal's conduct about the «li.sj)uto wliich ihcii ilividetl I'r.iiice, lie says — " So soon
as I have tlio opportunity of being; at c<iurt, I siiall emleavour to inform myself
as fully as shall be possible for uie, of wiiat halii passed in this particular ; and
if I find that tiie dilloronces betwixt the canliiial and the prince are in any
good way of acconiinodalione, I shall then persuade myself, that the cardinal
(whatever pretences he hath had to the contrary,) intenils a piMce with Spayne in
good earnest, and hath g;ot over the greatest rub that was in his way : for in
his discourses on that businesse, I found that the restoration of the j)rince stuck
jnore ^vith him than either the rc-delivery of towns, or the leaving of iiis allye
the Portugal, to the Spanyard's mercy." ^ And, probably under the irritation
of delay, he wrote to secretary Thurloe in June, saying, " I beg leave to dis-
charge my conscience, by letting you know, that I am verie much convinced,
that his highnesse affairs here doe infinitelie suder by miswianagement. They
doe requyre the addresse of a hande muclie more hap[)ie than myne ; and there-
fore shall humbly beg, that you may be pleased to lett his highnesse knowe how
much it concerns his interest heare that some other person be employed, whose
parts and experience may be more suitable to this trust than myne are." ^ But
Lockhart did not either give up his commission in discontent, or submit to be
dallied with. Towards the termination of the year, he sajs in his despatches,
" The audience my last told you I demanded and was promised, halh been
defered till this evening, notwithstanding my endeavours to the contrary : and
though it lasted from siv o'clock at night till ten, yet I cannot say I had much
satisfaction in it, for 3Ions. De Lion was with his eminence all the tynie, and by
his presence necessitated my sylence in some particulars, that, if I had had the
honour to entertain tlie cardinal by himself I durst have ventured upon. How-
soever, finding several particulars formerly agreed upon, questioned, and others
absolutely denyed, I was guiltie of the rudenesse to tell his eminence that I did
not understand such proceedure in businesse, and Avas astonished to meet so un-
expected changes.'' '* From remonstrances the ambassador proceeded to
threats. It was the determination of the English that 3Iardyke and Dunkirk
should be taken and left in their hands ; and in the commencement of the year
1657, "Lockhart," says Clarendon, "made such lively instances with the car-
dinal, and complaints of their breach of faith, and some menaces that his mas-
ter knew where to find n more punctual friend, that as soon as they had taken
IMontmedy and St Venant, the army marched into Llanders : and though the
season of the year was too far spent to engage in a siege before Dunkirk, they
sat down before IMardyke, which was looked upon as the most difficult part of
the work ; which being reduced would facilitate the other very much ; and that
fort they took, and delivered it into the hands of Reynolds, with an obligation
' that they would besiege Dunkirk the next year, and make it their first at-
tempt.'"'^

Lockhart's contest for the interests of Britain did not terminate after the
capture of 3Iardyke : he accused the French of purposely leaving the town un-
defended, that the British might be con\pelled to raze the fortifications, and
gain no advantage from their captures, while they weakened tlie enemies of
France. He urged Turenne to proceed innnediately to the siege of Dunkirk,
then but ill defended, offering for the service 5000 veterans and 2000 recruits ;
but he had to wait until June, IG53, ere tiie design was put in practice. At
this celebrated siege Lockhart connnnnded the British foot, with which he
charged and routed those of Spain. " As to the siege of Dunkirk," says lord

7 Thurloe, v. 441. s Thurloe, v. 120. 9 Thurloe, v. 574.

10 History, vii. -^12

SIR WILLIAM LOCKHART. 487

Fouconberg, " by the little discourse I have had with the duke de Grequy,
chevalier Grammont, and others, I find they infinitely esteenie my lord Lock-
hart for his courage, care, and enduring the fatigue beyond all men they ever
saw. These were their own words." '' When the fortifications had yielded to
his efforts, and those of his illustrious coadjutor Turenne, he found himself
still perplexed by the interruptions of the French : that the possession of so im-
portant and long-hoped-for an acquisition should be left to foreigners, was
Immiliating ; and whatever respect they paid to Cromwell's government, these
might at least indulge the privilege of preventing their assistance from being so
ample as it appeared. Almost unassisted, Lockhart was compelled with his
small army immediately to put the place in a posture of defence, and complaining
that he was " forced to buy the very pallisades of the Fcrt-Royall; otherwayes
the French, notwithstanding any order the king and cardinall can give, would
pull them out ; and not only burn them, but pull down the earthern works in
taking them out."^"

After the siege Loclihart was visited by commissary Mandossi, a person who,
under pretence of paying some debts which the Spanish army had incurred
during the siege, acted as an emissary from the marquis of Caracine, privately
to discover the extent to whicli Lockhart might countenance an immediate treaty
as the avenue to a peace ; but the conquering general returned polite and
haughty answers to the hints laid before him. He was appointed governor of
Dunkirk, an office in which he Avas enabled to distinguish himself for his I'eso-
lution and consistency ; and he was employed as plenipotentiary at the treaty
of the Pyrenees. After the accession of Kicliard Cromwell, and even during
the uncertainty of the continuance of a protectoral government in England, Sir
William Lockhart so far supported in his own person the influence of the com-
monwealth, that the interference of the exiled prince was disregarded by both
the foreign powers. After the peace, he visited England, and met with 3Ionlc,
whom he found still apparently intent on the continuation of the protectorate.
Being thus lulled into security, he returned to his foreign station, which he
hardly reached when he heard rumours of the approaching restoration of
monarchy. When Monk first hinted that his exertions Avould be at the service
of the king, and advised him speedily to quit Spain, lest his person might be
seized as a hostage for the restoration of Dunkirk, Charles fled to Breda ; and
Lockhart might at once have obtained pardon for all ofl^ences, and the prospect
of high promotion under the new order of things, if he would have acceded to
a request (made with many flattering promises) to throw open to him the gates
of Dunkirk. But the man who had said he would not be insulted even by a
king, answered that^" he was trusted by the commonwealth, and could not be-
tray it." ^^ — "This scruple," says Hume, "though in the present emergence
it approaches towai-ds superstition, it is difficult for us entirely to condemn ;"
but tlie elegant historian made the observation on the presumption that Lock-
hart " was nowise averse to the king's service," — " Whether this refusal," says
Clarendon, " proceeded from the punctuality of his nature (for he was a man of
parts and of honour), or from his jealousy for the garrison, that they would not
be disposed by him, (for though he was exceedingly beloved and obeyed by
them, yet they were all Englishmen, and he had none of his own nation, which
was the Scottish, but in his own family ;) certain it is, that, at the same time
that he refused to treat with the king, he refused to accept the great offers made
to him by the cardinal, who had a high esteem of him, and oflxjred to make
him marshal of France, with great appointments of pensions and other emolu-

" Thurloe, vii. 151 " Thuiloe, 173. " Burnet, i. SG.

488 GEORGE LOGAN.

inenls, if lie \vi)iil«l deliver DiinUirk and ."Manlyke into tlic liands of I'innce ; all
«lii( h overtures lie rejec^lcd : so tliat liis niajesly lind no place to resort to pre-
ferable to Iheda." " After tlie termination of tJie period of excitement and
energy in uliicli lie bore so active a part, little of interest remains to be told
connected \\ilii the events of Lockliart's life. He was of course dejtrived of the
government of Dunkirk, >\lii<h was bestowed on Sir lldward llarley. 'llirough
the intercession of 31iddleton, he was sulVered to return to Britain, and was in-
troduced to Charles ; he then retired to Scotland, where he buried himself in
retirement, and amused himself with teaching his fellow countrymen the Eng-
lish methods of agriculture ; but, driven away by the prevailing anarchy, lie
preferred a residence with the relations of his wife in Huntingdonshire. In
1GG5, ^vhen a renewed struggle of the commonwealth's men was expected in
Scotland, the busy spirits, who had dreamed of, rather than concocted the en-
terprise, looked to the earl of Cassillis and Lcckhart as the individuals who
would probably become their leaders ; but, neither countenancing the advances
Avhich were cautiously made, the project fell for a period. In IG71, he was
brought to court by Lauderdale, and he showed no disinclination to be cm-
ployed, " not so much," says Burnet, " out of ambition to rise, as from a de-
sire to be safe, and to be no longer looked on as an enemy to the court." But
Charles Ee«ms to have considered him as one of his " natural" enemies, " for
when a foreign minister," continues Burnet, ".asked the king leave to treat
with him in his master's name, the king consented, but with this severe reflec-
tion, that he believed he would be true to any body but himself." — " He was
sent," continues the same authority, " to the courts of Brandenburg and
Lunenburg, either to draw them into the alliance, or, if that could not be
done, at least to secure them from all apprehensions. But in this he had no
success. And indeed when he saw into what a negotiation he was engaged, he
became very uneasy. For though the blackest part of the secret was not
trusted to him, as appeared to me by the instructions which I read after his
death, yet he saw whither things were going; and that aflected him so deeply,
that it was believed to have contributed not a little to the languishing he soon
fell into, which ended in his death two years after. This event took place on
the 20lh 3Iarch, 1G75, a year after the death of his father. Noble has told us
that his death was attributed to the alternate causes of " a poisoned glove," and
disgust at the machinations betA\ixt Charles and Louis, of which he had been
the unconscious instrument. " I have ever looked on him," says Burnet, " as
the greatest man that his country produced in this age, next to Sir Robert
Muri'ay."

LOGAN, Geokge, chiefly celebrated as the controversial opponent of Euddi-
man, was born in the year 1G78, and is supposed to have been the son of
George Logan, a descendant of the family of Logan of Logan, in Ayrshire, who
married Miss Cunningham, a daughter of the clergyman of Old Cumnock, and
sister to 3Ir Alexander Cunningham, professor of civil law in the university of
Edinburgh, towards the latter end of the.lSth century.'^ George Logan was
educated at the university of Glasgow, of which he entered the Greek class in
1G93, and became a master of arts in 1G9G. Being destined for the church,
he was licensed as a preacher by the presbytery of Glasgow about the year
1702, and on the 7th of April, 1707, he was ordained a minister by the same
presbytery, in pursuance ofa popular call to the parish of Lauder, the ministry
of which he obtained in preference to two other candidates, 3Ir Stephen Oliver
and Mr George Hall. He remained at Lauder until the 22nd January, 1719,

'* Clarendon ut sup. '^ Chalmers' Life of Ruddiman, IDO.

GEORGE LOGAN. 489

when, in consequence of .another call, which was unanimous on the part of tho
parishioners, he was appointed to the ministi-y of Sprouston, in the presbytery
of Kelso. A second time inducements wei-e held forth, which prompted him to
change his sphere of duty, and on the 22nd January, 1722, he was inducted as
minister of Uunbar. Here he mairied his first wife, the sister of Sir Alexander
Home of Ecoles in the Merse, a lady who left him a son and daughter, both of
whom survived him. His ministry appears to have secured much popularity, for ad-
vancement was again held forth to him; and on the 14th December, 1732, he was
admitted one of the ministers of Edinburgh. He whose fame and fortune had
been so much advanced by the popular voice, now published a treatise " On the
Right of Electing Ministers," and it may safely be presumed, lliat the liberal
opinions tiuis commenced and continued through the rest of his life, were at
least fostered by the influence which the exercise of a popular right had produc-
ed on his own fortune. It is probable that this tract was published just before
his appointment to the charge in Edinburgh, being dated in the same year.
When the act for bringing to punishment those connected with the Porteous
mob, in 1736, was ordered to be read in all the churches, on the last Sunday
of every month during a year, " all the ministers," says 3Ir Chalmers, rather
cnigmaticnlly, " did not think with Logan that the will of the legislature ought,
on this occasion, to be obeyed. And he was carried, by the activity of his tem-
per, into a contest, in 1737, with the Rev. Dr Alexander Webster, one of the
ministers of P'dinburgh, on the propriety of refusing obedience to an act of
parliament, in a point wherein it is not easy to perceive how either conscience
or religion could be concerned." On the 8th of May, 1740, Logan was ap-
pointed moderator of the general assembly. During the occupation of Edin-
burgh by the Highlanders, in 1745, Logan, in common with most of the
other ministers of Edinburgh, thought it prudent to secure his personal safety
by quitting the town. His house, being near the weigh-house, where the High-
landers had a guard to prevent connnunication between the city and castle, was
occupied by them as a guard-house. After their retirement, he inserted in the
newspapers an advertisement for the recovery of some articles abstracted by his
late guests, a document containing more satire upon the tory party than his po-
litical pamphlets. His controversy with Ruddinian originated in the edition of
Buchanan's works, edited by that eminent scholar in 1715. He had become a
member of a society of critics, whose ostensible purpose was to rescue the me-
mory of Buchanan from the prejudicial opinions of his editor, but whose labours,
though they appear to have reached a considerable extent of matter, were never
published. In 1746, Logan published " A Treatise on Government : showing
that the right of the kings of Scotland to the crown was not strictly and abso-
hitely hereditary;" and, in 1747, he subjoined " A Second Treatise on Govern-
ment, showing that the right to the crown of Scotland was not hereditary in the
sense of Jacobites." The first answer he received was in an anonymous letter,
written in a spirit of airy ridicule, and in July, 1747, appeared the graver discus-
sion of the grounds of his opinions by Ruddiman. Logan, in company with many
men who have supported liberal and enlightened political sentiments, had the
misfortune to be more anxious to establish them on iiistorical precedent, than
on their native merits, and the history of Scotland was peculiarly barren in as-
certained facts for such a purpose. His principles appear to have been some-
what akin to those of Grotius, which admitted nothing in hereditary right but
a continuation to the descendants of the pernn'ssion given to their ancestor to
govern. To show that the crown of Scotland did not descend through the
Stewarts in a pure legitimate stream, he discussed the well-known subject of the
legitimacy of Robert III., and the question, certainly at one time debatcable,

490 JOHN LOGAI?,

wlicllier the I'retoiuIiT was or was not tlie son of James II. 'Jlie fonnor of
these points has now been jnetiy sntisfaclorily established hy tlie hibouis of
Innes, ilay, Stewart, and Kiuhlinian, and tlie latter is no lonjjer a matter of
doubt. Ihit Lo<;an is accused of having gone to other and more frail sources;
a fabulous list of kings had been added to the number of tiie tenants of the
Scottisli throne, by 15oec,e antl tiie other early chroniclers. Jiuchanan, if he did
not know the list to bo fabricated, knew the circumstances of the lives of these
persons to rest on so unstable a foundation, that he found himself enabled to
twist their characters to his theories. On the events connected with the reigns of
these persons, Logan likewise connnents ; but after having done so, turning to
the -writings of Innes and Stillingfleet, he remarked — " 15ut I shall be so good
•ns to yield it to Lloyd, Stillingtieet, and Innes : but then let our Scottish Jaco-
bites and the young chevalier give over their boasting of hereditary succession
by a longer race of kings in Scotland than in any kingdom in the known
world." ^ liuddiman employed his usual labour in clearing the questions about
Ilobert III. and the birth of the Pretender ; but in another point — the wish to
prove that Robert the Bruce was a nearer heir to the Scottisli crown by feudal
usages than John 15aliol — he failed. Chalmers, who can see neither talent nor
honesty in Logan, and no defect in Iluddiaian, observes, that " it required not,
indeed, the vigour of IJuddinian to overthrow the weakness of Logan, who laid
the foundations of the government which he affected, either on the wild fables
of Boece, or on the more despicable fallacies of Buchanan;" but the fables,
which were satirically noticed by Logan, were subjects of serious consideration
to the giavo critic. Iluddiman brings against his opponent the charge, fre-
quently made on such occasions, of " despising dominions, speaking evil of
dignities, and throwing out railing accusations against kings, though the arch-
angel 31icliael durst not bring one against the devil himself, whom our author,
I hope, will allow to be ^vorse than the worst of our kings."''* Ibis was, at
least, in some degree, complimentary to Logan, and the critic, proceeding,
tries to preserve, for the ancestors of Charles II., both their length of line and
their virtues, and is anxious to show that, at least, such as cannot be easily saved
from the censures of Buchanan and Logan, were not lineal ancestors of the
great Charles II. In point of philosophy, Kuddiman's work cannot well be
compared Avith the several pamphlets of Logan, although even the arguments of
the latter against divine right, would now be considered too serious and uncalled
for, by any power of defence. The different pamphlets will be found accurate-
ly enumerated in " Chalmers's Life of Ruddiman." Logan was the more restless
and determined of the two, and continued his attacks until 1749, when both
had reached a period of life fitted for more peaceful pursuits. Logan died at
Edinburgh on the 13th of October, 1755, in the seventy-seventh year of his
age.

LOGAN, John, a poet and sermon-writer of no mean eminence, was bom in
the year 1748, at Soulra, in the parish of Fala, in the county of Mid-Lothian,
being the son of (jeorge Logan, a small farmer at that place, of the dissenting
persuasion. He received the elements of learning at the school of Gosford, in
Last-Lothian, to which parish his father removed during his childhood. Being
the younger of two sons, he was early destined to the clerical profession, accord-
ing to a custom not yet abrogated in families of the humbler rank in Scotland.
At the university of Edinburgh, he formed an acquaintance A\ilh the unfortunate
Michael Bruce, and also with Dr Robertson, afterwards minister of Daliiieny,
and known as auUior of a Life of Mary queen of Scots. In the society of the
former individual, he cultivated poetical reading and composition, being fondest,
First Treatise, 50. 3 Ruddiman's Answer, 27.

JOHN LOGAN. 491

as miglit be siippiised from the character of his own efforts, of the writings of
Spenser, Collins, Akenside, and Gray, the three last of whom bear so honoura-
ble a distinction from the cold and epigranunatic manner of their contemporaries.
During- one of the recesses of the college, while residing in the country, he be-
came known to Patrick lord Elibank, who, with his usual enthusiasm in favour
of genius of every kind, warmly patronized him.

On completing his education, Logan was received as tutor into the house of
Mr Sinclairof Ulbster, and thus became preceptor of the late Sir John Sinclair,
author of the Code of Agriculture. He did not long retain this situation, in
which he was succeeded by his friend Robertson. In 1770, he superintended
the publication of the first edition of the poems of Bruce, who had died three
years before. The volume professedly contained a few supplementary pieces by
other writers, and of tiiese Logan was himself the principal author. The best
of his contributions was the Ode to the Cuckoo, whicii, notwithstanding the ob-
vious fault of a want of connexion between the various parts of various stanzas,
is still one of the most popular poems in the language.

In 1773, Logan >vas licensed as a preacher by the pi-esbytery of Edinburgh,
thus joining the ranks of the established, instead of the dissenting church. He
soon became known as an eloquent and affecting preacher, and in the same
year was called by the kirk-session and incorporations of South Leith, to be
their minister ; a situation always considered as one of the most honourable in
the church of Scotland, and which had just been vacated by another man of
genius, Dr Henry Hunter, whose life has been given in the present work. Here
he continued to cultivate literature with devoted ardour, though it was not till
1781, that he thouglit proper to publish any poetry under his own name. Among
the studies of Dr Logan, history was one of those in which he most delighted.
In the winter of 1779, he delivei-ed a course of lectures on the Philosophy of
History, in St Mary's chapel, Edinburgh, under the countenance and appro-
bation of Drs Robertson, Blair, Ferguson, and other eminent persons connected
with the university. So successful was he in these exhibitions, that, on the
chair of universal history becoming vacant in 1780, he would unquestionably
have obtained it, if he had possessed the incidental qualification of being a
member of the Scottish bar. In the succeeding year, he published an analysis
of his lectures, so far as they related to ancient history, under the title of" Ele-
ments of tile Philosophy of History," which was followed by one of the lectures
"On the Manners and Government of Asia." His poems, published in 1781,
attracted so nmch attention, that a second edition was called for next yeai\ In
this C(dlection, he reprinted several of the pieces which he had formerly given
to the world along ■with those of Michael Bruce. A painful charge rests against
his memory, regarding the real authorship of some of those pieces, and also re-
specting the use he made of a copious manuscript of Bruce's poetry, intrusted to
him after the publication of the first volume. Into this controversy, which is
fully stated in Anderson's edition of the British Poets, we deem it unnecessary,
in the present state of the literary reputation of both men, to enter ; but we can
state, as a fact not formerly known to the biographers of Logan, that he assert-
ed his innocence in a very decided manner, after his removal to London, by
ordering an Edinburgh agent to take out an interdict against an edition of
Bruce's poems, in whicli several of his own pieces had been appropriated, under
the supposition of their belonging to that poet.

Undeterred by the fate of Home, Logan produced a tragedy in 1783. It
was entitled " Runnimede," and aimed at combining the history of Magna
Charta with a love story said to be expressly b<n-rowed from the Tancrede of
Voltaire. Runnimede was rehearsed by Mr Harris at Covent Garden theatre.

492 JOHN LOGAN.

but preveiiteil from being acted by an onlcr from the cbaniberlain, nlio, in the
recent feeling of the Aiiioiicvin wnv of in(lej>ondence, took alanu at several of
liie breatliings in favoui- of liberty. liOgan then printed it, and bad it acted in
tiie lulinburgb theatre; but in iieitlicr form did it meet willi decided success.
This, witli otber disai)[»ointnients, preyed upon tlic spirits of the |)oet, and he
now betook himself'to liie most vulgar antl fatal means of neutralizing grief. It
is to be always kopt in mind, tiiat his father had dieil in a stale of insanity, the
consC(jUonco of depressed spirits. Hence it is to be presumed, liiat the aberra-
tions of the unliappy poet had some palliative in constitutional tendencies. Ironi
whatever source they arose, it was soon foiuid necessary thai be should resign the
charge of the populous parish with \vhich he liad been intrusted.' An agree-
ment to this purpose was completed between him and the kirk-session, in 178G,
and he retired with a certain modicum of the stipend, while 3Ir Dickson was
appointed his assistant and successor.

In the autunni of the preceding year, Logan had proceeded to London, ap-
parently with the design of devoting himself entirely to literature. He was
engaged in the management of the English lleview, and compiled a view of
ancient history, which passed under the name of Ur Rutherford. In 1788, he
published an anonymous pamphlet, entitled " A review of the principal charges
against Mr Hastings ;" which, being construed into a breach of the privileges of
tlie house of connuons, caused a prosecution of the publisher, Stockdale, who,
ho\vever, was acquitted. This was the last production be gave to the world.
Afler a lingering indisposition, he died in London, December 28, 1788, about
forty years of age.

Dr Logan destined legacies to the amount of £G00 to certain of his friends
and relations, to be realized out of bis books and manuscripts. The latter con-
sisted of sermons, miscellaneous prose pieces, lectures, and a few small lyrical
poems. In 1790, the first volume of the sermons was publislied, under the
superintendence of Drs Kobertson, Hardy, and Blair. The second volume ap-
peared in the following year; and, before the end of 1793, both volumes had
undergone a second impression. None of his other posthumous works have been
published.

Except in the latter part of his life, when rendered irritable and sottish by
the i-esults of iiis constitutional temperament, Dr Logan is allowed to have been
a man of the most amiable character, full of refined sensibility, and free from
all mean vices. Of his poetry, which has been several times reprinted in the
mass, it is no small praise to say that it advances before the age in which it was
written, having more of the free natural graces \vhich characterize modern
verse, than the productions of most of his contemporaries. It is also character-
ized in many instances by singularly happy expressions, as it is in general by
extreme sweetness of versification. His Ode to the Cuckoo and his hymns, are
tl>e pieces which may be expected to last longest. A selection from the latter,
omitting portions of some of those chosen, was embodied in the volume of
paraphrases, sanctioned by the church of Scotland as an addition to the psalmo-
dy. *' The sermons of Logan," says his earliest biographer, Dr Anderson,
" though not so exquisitely polished as those of Blair, possess in a higher de-
gree the animated and passionate expression of iMassillon and Atterbury. His

1 An aged parishioner of Dr Logan, mentioned to a friend of the editor of this work, that
he w;is present in churcli one day, when the conduct of the reverend fjentleman was such as
to induce an old man to go up, and, in no very respectful language, aill upon the minister to
descend from ihe pulpit which he disgraced. Such an anecdote, if read immediately after
perUiing one of the elegant discourses of Logan, would form a singular illustration of the
propintiuity which sometimes exists between the pure and impure, tlie lofty and the degrad-
ed, in human character.

DR. WILLIAM LOTHIAN, F.R.S.E.— JOHN LOVE. 493

composUion is everywhere excellent — its leading characteristics being strength
elegance, and simplicity. '1 he formation of iiis sentences appears the most in-
artificial ; though at the same time, it uill be found, strictly correct. But the
manner, amidst all its beauties, is, on the first perusal, lost in the enjoyment the
reader feels from the sentiment. Devotional and solemn subjects peculiarly ac-
cord with his feelings and genius. In exhibiting deep and solemn views of
human life, his sentiments are bold and varied, and his imagination teems with
the most soothing and elevated figures. * * It appears to have been no part
of his plan to seek out for new subjects of preaching, or to exert his ingenuity
in exliibiting new views of moral and religious topics. To embellish the most
common subjects, whicii are certainly the most proper and useful, witii new or-
naments ; to persuade by more forcible and captivating illustration ; to unite the
beauties of elegant diction, and the splendour of fine imagery ; in this lay iiis
chief exertions, and here rests his chief praise."

LOTHIAN, (Ur) William, F.U.S.E., author of a History of the United Pro-
vinces of the Netherlands, was born at Edinburgh in 1740, being the son of
IMr George Lothian, a respectable surgeon in that city. Having passed through
the various stages of his education with some eclat, he was licensed as a
preacher of the gospel in 17G2, and appointed, in 17G4, one of the ministers
of the Canongate. As a preacher his method of instruction was simple and per-
spicuous, his sentiments rational and manly, and his manner unaffected and per-
suasive. For many years before his death he was afflicted with a very painful
disease; yet he not only performed his professional duties with unabated zeal,
but found energy and spirit to compose the work above-mentioned, which ap-
peared in 1780. Previously to this publication he had been honoured by the
Edinburgh university with the degree of doctor of divinity. He died Decem-
ber 17, 1783, having only completed tiie forty-third year of his age. Two
sermons by him are published in the Scotch Preacher, 4 vols. 12mo, 1776. For
a more copious notice of this respectable divine, reference may be made to the
first volume of the Transactions of the Pioyal Society of Edinburgh.

LOVE, John, a controversial critic of celebrity, was born at Dumbarton in
1695.' He was the son of John Love, a bookseller, mIio, as Chalmers indis-
putably remai-ks, " like greater dealers in greater towns, supplied his customers
with such books as their taste required." The son was educated at the gram-
mar school of Dumbarton, and the university of Glasgow. Having finished his
studies, he became assistant or usher to his old master Mr David M* Alpine, and
in 1720, succeeded him in his humble duty. On the I7th October, 1721, he
married Elizabeth, daughter of Mr Archibald Campbell, a surgeon of Glasgow,
who had been one of the baillies of that city. By her he had thirteen children,
two of whom, a clergyman and an officer in the navy, were alive when Chal-
mers wrote his Life of Ruddiman. In 1733, Mr Love entered the field of
controversy by publishing " Animadversions on the Latin Grammar lately pub-
lished by Mr Robert Ti-otter, schoolmaster of Dumfries," a production chiefly
designed for the purpose of defending Ruddiman, whose grammar had been re-
flected on by Trotter. " Like Ruddiman," says Chalmers very aptly, " Love
seems to have delighted in marriage, or like him, to have been driven to con-
nubial connexions, by his scholastic business, which required female superin-
tendance." Accordingly, in pursuance of the disposition so aptly associated
with his name, he married in 1741, for his second wife, Giles, the youngest
daughter of the reverend Mr James Elphinston, minister of Dalkeith, who had
died in 1710. Love was subjected, it would appear, at one period of his life
to a species of religious prosecution, on an accusation of brewing on Sunday,
' Chalmers's Ruddiman, 135.

494 GKORGE LOW.

prefeneil before tlie dmrrli jjdicuitories by IMr Sydseif, minister of Dumbarton,
" who," says Clialiiiei"S, " afier a iudi<;ial Irial, was obliged to make a public
apology, for liaving maliciously accused caluiimiated innocence." In October,
1735, he was appointed one of tlie masters of tlie liigli school of Edinburgh,
and in 1737, with the assistance of liuddimaii and Robert Hunter, lie ediied a
very handsome edition of the Translation of the I'salms of JJuchanan, which at-
tracted the notice of the duke of Huccleuch, and obtained for the editor in 173!)
the rectorship of the grammar school of Dalkeith ; a situation whicii has for a
long period been deemed of considerable iniportan«;e, and very ably filled, but
which would not now be considered an advancement from that Avhich Love
previously enjoyed. In the following year he engaged in the controversy about
the respective merits of Johnston and Buchanan as translators of the Psalms,
known by the name of Bellum (iranunaticale, and already referred to in our
memoir of Arthur Johnston. He was of course the supporter of the work lio
Iiad edited. " The conquests which Love had made over Trotter and Lauder,"
says Chalmers, "probably gave him a fondness for controversy." In 1749,
he published " A Vindication of 3Ir George Buchanan," a work levelled at the
imputations of Camden on the one part, and the reflections of Ruddiman, his
former friend, on the other. It says much for the candour of Love, that Chal-
mers allows him to have been actuated by " honest zeal." The chief subject of
discussion was the alleged penitence of Buchanan on liis deathbed, on account
of his attacks on the character of queen Mary. In July, 1749, in his old an-e,
Kuddinian published an answer, termed " Animadversions on a late pamphlet,
entitled A Vindication of I\Ir George Buchanan." The venerable grammarian
survived his opponent, who died on the "20th September, 1750, at the a"e of
fifty-five. Chalmers admits that " he was certainly an eminent scholar, an ex-
tellent teacher, and a good man."

LOW, George, an ingenious naturalist, was born at Edzel in Forfarshire
in the year 1746. He Avas educated at the universities of Aberdeen and St
Andrews, and afterwards was tutor in the family of JMr Graham at Stromness
in Orkney. During his residence at this place, Mr (afterwards Sir Joseph)
Banks and Or Solander arrived at the island, on their return from the last
voyage of discovery, in which captain Cook lost his life ; and Mr Low, having
acquired a taste for natural history, was much noticed by these distinguished
philosophers, and was requested to accompany them in their excursions through
the Orkneys, and also to the Shetland islands, which he accordingly did.

In 1774, he was ordained to tlie ministerial charge of the parish of Birsay
and Staray, on the mainland of Orkney, to which he devoted the remainder of
his life, employing his leisure in the study of nature. Considering the difad-
vantages of his situatioji, his success was highly creditable. Sir Joseph Banks,
W'itli his accustomed zeal for the promotion of science, introduced him to 3Ir
Pennant, by whose advice he engaged to undertake a " Fauna Orcadensis," and
a " Flora Orcadensis." Before these works could be given to the world, he
died, in 1795. The IMSS. of the former work, with his zoological collections,
and the manuscript of a translation of Torfaeus's History of Orkney, executed
by Mr Low, came into the possession of Mr George Faton, the eminent anti-
quary, at whose decease they were sold to different persons. The " Fauna" was
published in 1813, 4to, by W. F. Leach, M.D., F.L.S., and forms a very in-
teresting addition to the natural history of the British Islands. The " Flora "
has not been discovered. A tour through Orkney and Shetland, containing
hints relative to their ancient, modern, and natural history, was also prepared
for the press by this industrious individual, but, owing to his premature death,
was never published.

JOHN LOWE. 495

LOWE, John, a poet of considerable celebrity, though the author of only
one small lyrical piece which has acquired popularity, was born at Kenmore in
the stewartry of Kircudbright, in the year 1750. His father was gardener to
Mr Gordon of Kenmore, son of the unfortunate viscount Kenmore ; and youno-
Lowe was reared to the business of a country weaver. Having, however a
strong desire of rising above his native lot, he fitted himself by his own exer-
tions for entering an academical career at the university of Edinburgh, where
his expenses were chiefly defrayed, it is said, by friends whom he had secured
by his agreeable character and evident talents. While pursuing the study of
divinity, he was engaged as family tutor by a country gentleiuan of his native
district, Mr M'Ghie of Airds. The residence of this gentleman, as partly im-
plied by its Celtic appellation, was situate on a piece of lofty and picturesque
ground, at the confluence of the Dee with the long narrow lake, in which the
Ken meets with that river. Lowe, already addicted to versification, rejoiced
with a poet's ardour in the beautiful scenery of the Airds, amidst which he con-
structed an arbour still called " Lowe's Seat." He here composed a consider-
able number of poems, fragments of which are still i-ecollected in the district ;
and here also he became attached to one of the beautiful daughters of his em-
ployer, who, it is to be supposed, must have materially added to the inspiring
powers of the scenery. His happy lyric, entitled " Mary's Dream," but for
which, in all probability, he never would have been heard of beyond his native
district, W2S written at the Airds, in reference to the death of a gentleman
named Miller, a surgeon at sea, who was attached to the sister of his own mis-
tress, and perished in the manner described in the poem.

It is not certain that Lo^ve, though he seems to have completed his tlieologi-
cal studies, ever became a licentiate of the Scottish church. In 1773, he was
induced to proceed to America, in order to become family tutor to a brother of
the illustrious W^ashington. He subsequently set up a boarding academy at
Fredericksburg in Virginia, which succeeded for a time, but afterwards
failed. Before leaving Scotland, he had interchanged pledges of mutual love
with Miss M'Ghie, and it was understood that their marriage should take place
as soon as he should be properly settled in life. The lapse of years — distance —
hopelessness, perhaps, of ever reaching the necessary degree of fortune, and
not impossibly the intervention of seven years of war between the two countries,
conspired to annul this engagement ; and the parties eventually married dif-
ferent individuals in their respective countries. Lowe is charged by his bio-
graphers with glaring infidelity to his promise ; but the case is too obscurely re-
lated, to enable us to join in the censure which he has thus incurred. The
fondest lovers, when divided by time and space from each other, will hardly be
able to maintain their flame : as love is often at first the result of exclusive in-
tercourse, so is it apt to expire when the parties cease for a length of time to
enjoy that intercourse, or become exposed to a wider range of society. We
are far from implying that a breach of youthful vows is justifiable on any prin-
ciple ,* but yet when we see a young female bind herself up to a person who
has no immediate prospect of being able to make her his wife, and who, per-
haps, before that event, has to spend a long time in a distant land, where his
very character is exposed to a radical change, we cannot help perceiving that
such a woman perils her happiness upon a point in human nature, and a series
of contingencies, where the chances are greatly against her, and therefore is not
entitled to throw the whole blame of her misfortune, should it arrive, upon one
who is simply, perhaps, the partner of her early imprudence. Lowe eventually
paid his addresses to a Virginian lady, who rejected ihem, but \vhose sister iiad
conceived for him a violent affection, and whom he afterwards married, from a

496 JOHN MACDTARMID.

sentiment, as lie expresses it, of gratitude. At wliat time this took plaoe h;i3
not been stated by bis biograiiber ;' but it is impossible, from tlio account given
by tbat individual, to resist the impressi()n that it uas almost half a lifetime al-
ter his engagement at the Ainls. His wife proved totally unworthy of liis af-
fections, and, by driving him for relief to the bottle, caused his deatii under the
most miserable circumstances about the year 171)8. 'J'his succession of events
appears from .Air (iiilespic's narrative, to have been rapid : lience it is allowable
to cin)ji'cturo, that at least twenty years must have elapsed between his parting
Avilh 31iss IMM.ihie, and his unhappy union to another. If such ^vas the case,
we can hardly see liow the most ardent impressions of youth could have been
maintained at such a distance, and under the continued depression of circum-
stances on the part of the gentleman, which is ackno\\ledged by the bio-
grapher, and Avhich must have tended so much to make sick the hearts of both
parlies.

A letter from Virginia from an early friend of tlie poet, gave the following
particulars respecting his death : — " That perceiving his end drawing near, and
wishing to die in peace, away from his own wretched \valls, he mounted a sorry
palfrey, and rode some distance to the house of a friend. So mucli was he de-
bilitated that scarcely could he alight in the court and walk into the house.
Afterwards, however, he revived a little, and enjoyed some hours of that
vivacity which was peculiar to him. But this was but the last faint gleams of a
setting sun : for on the third day after his arrival at the house ol' iiis friend, he
breathed his last. He now lies buried near Fredericksburg, under the shade
of two pahn trees ; but not a stone is there on which to write, ' 31ary, weep no
njorc for me.' "

The wretched woman to whom he had been united made no inquiries after
her husband for more than a month afterwards, when she sent for his horse,
which had been previously sold to defray the expenses of the funeral.

Lowe is said to have been a very handsome man, of quick and lively appre-
hension, and very agreeable as a companion. His reputation as a poet has the
strange peculiarity of resting on one small ballad. That, ho;vever, has melody,
pathos, and imagery, of no common character, and will probably be always
reckoned among the happiest small pieces in the English language. Some
fragments of his other compositions are given in (Jromec's Remains ; but they
do not rise one step above the cold second-rate pastoral epics of the period.

M

IMACDIARMID, John, a miscellaneous writer, was born in the year 1779,
He was the son of the Rev. 31r Macdiarmid, minister of Weem, in Perthshire.
After studying at the universities of Edinburgh and St Andrews, and acting for
some time as tutor to a gentleman's family, he proceeded, in 1801, to London,
for the purpose of pi'osecuting a literary career. He soon obtained lucrative
employment as a writer in periodical works, and became editor of the St James'
Chronicle, a newspaper iii which some of the first scholars and wits of former
years were accustomed to employ their pens. On the renewal of the war with
France, in 1802-3, the attention of Mr Macdiarmid was attracted to the system
of national defence Avhich had been adopted, and he forsook his other eniploy-

' The Rev. Mr Gillespie, minister of Kelso, in Cromec's Remains of Nillisdale .and Gal-
loway Song.

ANDREW MACDONAI.D. 497

iiients to devote liioiself to a work of a very elaborate character, which appeared
in 1803, ill two volumes 8vo, under the title of " An Inquiry into the System ot
Military Defence of Great Britain." He aimed at exposing the defects of the
volunteer system, as well as of all temporary expedients, and asserted the supe-
riority of a i-egular army, llis next work was an " Inquiry into the Nature oi
Civil and Military. Subordination," 1804, 8vo, perhaps the fullest disquisition
which the subject Uias received. Being- thus favourably introduced to public
notice as a general writer, he began to aim at higher objects, but, it would
appear, Avitiiout properly calculating his own physical capabilities. Mr D'Israeli,
who saw him at this, time, and who had afterwards the melancholy task of intro-
ducing his case into the work called " The Calamities of Authors," describes
him as " of a tender frame, emaciated, and study-worn, with hollow eyes, where
t!ie mind dimly shone, like a lamp in a tomb. With keen ardour," says the
historian of literary disaster, " he opened a new plan of biographical politics.
When, by one who wished the author and his style were in better condition,
the dangers of excess in study were brought to his recollection, he smiled, and,
with something of a mysterious air, tallied of unalterable confidence in the
powers of his mind — of the indefinite improvement in our faculties ; and although
llis frame was not athletic, he considered himself capable of trying it to the
extremity. His whole life, indeed, was one melancholy trial : often the day
passed cheerfully without its meal, but never without its page." Under the
impulse of this incontroUable enthusiasm, Mr Macdiarmid composed his
*' Lives of British Statesmen," beginning witli Sir Thomas fllore. For the
publication, he was indebted to a friend, who, when the author could not readily
procure a publisher, could not see even the dying author's last hopes disap-
pointed. The work has obtained a reputation of no mean order. " Some
research and reflection," says Mr D'Israeli, " are combined in this literary and
civil history of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries." — " The style,"
according to another critic, " is perspicuous and unaffected ; authorities are
quoted for every statement of consequence, and a variety of curious information
is extracted from voluminous records, and brought for the first time into public
view. His political speculations Avere always temperate and liberal. He was
indeed in all respects qualified for a \\ork of this description, by great power
of research and equal impartiality." The poor author was destined to enjoy,
for a short time only, the approbation ^vit!l which his work was received. His
health sustained, in November, 1807, an Irreparable blow by a paralytic stroke;
and a second attack in February, 1808, proved fatal, April 7.

MACDONALD, Andrew, a dramatic and miscellaneous writer, was born about
the year 1755. His father, George Donald, was by profession a gardener, and
resided at the foot of the broad way which connects Leith with Edinburgh,
called Leith Walk ; the place also of young Macdonald's nativity.

The subject of tliis memoir received the early part of his education at Leith,
and went through the usual initiatory course of classical learning in the gram-
mar school of that town. Having exhibited early indications of superior parts,
his pai'ents and friends entertained the most sanguine hopes of his success in
the ^vorld, and especially anticipated his attaining eminence in literature. With
a vie^v to his becoming a minister of the Scottish episcopal connnunion, in which
he was born and educated, they entered him a student in the university of Edin-
burgh, where he remained till 1775, when he was put into deacon's orders by
bishop Forbes of Leith, who became also his chief patron. On this occasion,
at the bishop's recommendation he prefixed the syllable Mac to his name, though
for what reason is not stated.

Although now invested \vith the clerical chai-acter, there was yet no vacant

III. 3 R

498 ANDREW MACDONALD.

liviuq; for liiin ; but througli tlie interest of liis patron, tlie wortliy divine just
named, lie j)Vocurcd the ai)|)ointiuent of preceptor in tlie family of Mt Olipliant
of IJasit, as a tempoi-ary employment ami means of support, until a va(^ncy in
the church should present itself. In this situation he remained about a year,
mIich he was chosen pastor of the episcopal conj^regation at («lasg;o\v, in room
of 3Ir Wood, who had gone to St I'etersburg. His appointment took place in
the year 1777. His patron, bishop Forbes, having in the mean time died, Iio
was put into priest's orders by bishop Falconer. Although much addicted to
literary pursuits, 3Iacdonald made no public appearance as au author for five
yeai*s after this period, when he made a debut in the character of a poet, by
publishing a poem, or rather part of a poem, entitled " Velina, a I'oetical
Fragment.'' Neither this work, nor a novel Avhich he subsequently published
under the title of the " Independent," met with any remarkable degree of
success. He therefore resolved to try his talents in dramatic composition ;
and his first effort was the tragedy of Vimonda, Avhich was brought out at
the Edinburgh theatre royal, for the benefit of 3Ir Wood, " with a prologue
by Henry Mackenzie, and was received with marked applause by the public,
though, like all the other works of its unfortunate author, it is now scarcely
known to exist.

In the mean time, 3Iacdonald, who still resided at Glasgow, was making but
little progress in worldly prosperity. His fortunes, notwithstanding the success of
his play, which does not seem to have yet yielded him any considerable pecuni-
ary remuneration, were rather retrograding than advancing. The episcopal
church of Scotland was at this period in a very depi-essed state. The old
members were fast dying out, and there were none to replace them. The result
was that 3Iacdonald's congregation was speedily reduced to a number so trifling,
that he could no longer live by his charge. Thus situated, he resolved on re-
signing it; and as no better prospects presented themselves elsewhere in the
Scottish episcopal church, he denuded himself altogether of his ecclesiastical
functions, and finally threw aside even the outward sign of his calling, the
clerical dress, and became at all points entirely secularized. On throwing up
his ministry, he came to Edinburgh, with, it would seem, pretty confident
hopes of being able to make a living by his pen ; an idea in which he was en-
couraged by the success of his tragedy. He had, however, before leaving
Glasgow, taken a step ^vhich his friends thought fit to consider as at once im-
prudent and degrading. This was his marrying the maid servant of the house
in which he had lodged. His reception, therefore, on his return to Edinburgh,
from these friends and those of- his acquaintances who participated in their feel-
ings on the subject of his marriage, had much in it to annoy and distress him,
although no charge could be brought against the humble partner of his fortune,
but the meanness of her condition. Whatever question, however, might have
been made of the prudence or imprudence of his matrimonial connexion, there
could be none regarding the step which he next took. This was his renting an
expensive house, and furnishing it at a cost which he had no immediate means of
defraying, although with all that sanguine hope which is but too frequently found
associated with literary dispositions, he fully expected to be enabled to do so by
the exertion of his talents. The result \vas such as might have been looked for.
His literary prospects, as far as regarded Edinburgh, ended in total disappoint-
ment. His creditors became pressing, and the neglect of his friends, proceed-
ing from tlie circumstance already alluded to, and which in some cases amounted
to direct insult, continued as marked as when he first returned amongst them,
and added greatly to the distress of mind with which the unfortunate poet was
now overwhelmed.

ANDREW MACDONALD. 499

Undei' the pressure of these accumulated evils, he determined on quilling
Edinburgh, and on seeking in London that employment for his literary talents
which he could not find in his native capital. Having come to this resolution,
he left his mother, for whom he always entertained the most tender regard, in
possession of his house and furniture, and proceeded, accompanied by his wife,
to the metropolis. Here his reception was such as to compensate in some
measui-e for the treatment which he had experienced at home. The fame of
his tragedy had gone before him, and soon after his arrival procured him
many sincere and cordial, though it does not appear very powerful, friends.
Vimonda was brought out Avith much splendour by Colman, in the summer of
1787, a short time after its author had arrived in London, and was performed
to crowded houses. In the following summer, it was again produced, and with
similar success. This good fortune, operating on a temperament naturally san-
guine, lifted poor Macdonald's hopes beyond all reasonable bounds, and filled
his mind with the brightest anticipations of fame and independence. In this
spirit he wrote sevei'al lettex's to Mr M, Stewart, music-seller in Edinburgh, the
principal, if not indeed the only friend he had left behind him, full of the most
splendid ideas regarding his future fortunes. Having left Edinburgh in em-
barrassed circumstances, so that neither his house rent nor his furniture had been
paid, he promises speedy remittances to defray all his debts, and amongst the
rest that Avhich he had incurred to his correspondent, who seems to have man-
aged all his affairs for him after he left the Scottish capital, and to have gener-
ously made, from time to time, considerable advances of money on his account.

" Thank Heaven," says the ill-fated poet in one of these letters to Stewart,
in which he announces the good fortune which he now conceived was to be his
for the remainder of -his life, " thank Heaven, my greatest difficulties are now
over ; and the approaching opening of the summer theatre will soon render me
independent and perfectly at ease. In three weeks you will see by the public
prints, I shall be flourishing at the Haymarket in splendour superior to last
season. I am fixed for the summer in a sweet retirement at Crompton, Mhere,
having a large bed, and lying alone, I can accommodate you tolerably, and
give you a share of a poet's supper, sallads and delicious fruits from my own
garden."

All this felicity, and all these gay visions of the future, were, however, speedily
and sadly dissipated. In a few short months thereafter Macdonald sunk into an
untimely grave, disappointed in his hopes, and reduced to utter destitution in his
circumstances. That he did thus die is certain, but neither the immediate cause,
nor the progress of the sudden blight which thus came over his fortunes before his
death, is very distinctly traced in any of the memoii's vihich have been consulted
in the composition of this article, unless the following remark, contained in an
advertisement prefixed to a volume of posthumous sermons of Macdonald,
printed in 1790, can be considered as an explanation : — " Having no powerful
friends to patronize his abilities, and suffering under the infirmities of a weak
constitution, he fell a victim, at the age of thirty-three, to sickness, disappoint-
ment and misfortune." Macdonald died in the year 1783, in the thirty-third
year of his age, leaving behind him his wife and one child, wholly unprovided
for.

Macdonald made several attempts in dramatic composition subsequent to the
appearance of Vimonda, but none of them were at all equal in merit to that per-
formance, a circumstance which affbrds, probably, a more satisfactory elucidation
of the cause of those disappointments which gathered round and hurried him to
his grave, and embittered his dying moments, than those enumerated in the ex-
tract employed above. For some time previous to his death, under the fictitious

500 ROBERT MACFARLANE.

signaliiro of Mattliew Hrainblc, he amused tlie town almost d.aily ^vilh little
liimiorous and biirlesfjiic poems, after the manner of I'eter I'indar's (Dr Wolcot),
and tliese were not tinfre<jiiently equal in jioint an<l satiri<;:il allusion to some of
the most feli(Mtous etfiisions of iiis celebrated prototype.

As a preacher, lie was disdnn^uislied for neat, classical, and elegant com-
j)f)sition ; qualities which procured a favourable reception for the volinne of
posthumous sermons published in 1790. A tragedy, which he left in a finished
state at iiis death, was printed and included in a volume of his poetical \vorl48,
published in 1791.

On the whole, Ulacdonuld's literary talents seem to have been of that unfor-
tunate description which attract notice, without yielding profit, which produce a
show of blossom, but no fruit, and which, when trusted to by their sanguine
j)ossessor as a means of insuring a subsistence, are certain to be found wholly in-
adequate to that end, and equally certain to leave their deceived and disap-
jiointed victim to neglect and misery.

It may be proper, before concluding this brief sketch of iMacdonald, to advert
to the account given of him by D'Israeli, in his " Calamities of Authors." That
account is an exceedingly pathetic one, and is written with all the feeling and
eloquence for which its highly distinguished writer is so remarkable ; but unfor-
tunately it is inconsistent in many parts with fact. What 3Ir D'Israeli mentions
recfarding him from his oun knowledge and experience, \ve do not question ;
but in nearly all the particulars which were not so acquired, he seems to have
been egregiously misinformed. In that information, however, wliicii is of the
description that there is no reason for doubting, the following ati'ecting passage
occurs : — " It was one evening I saw a tall, famished, melancholy man, enter
a bookseller's shop, his hat flapped over his eyes, and his \vliole frame evi-
dently feeble from exiiaustion and utter misery. The bookseller inquired how
he proceeded with his tragedy? ' Do not talk to me about my tragedy! Do
not talk to me about my tragedy ! I have indeed more tragedy than 1 can bear
at home,' \vas his reply, and his voice faultered as he spoke. This man was
Matthew Bramble — Macdonald, the author of the tragedy of Vimonda, at tliat
moment the writer of comic poetry." D'Israeli then goes on, giving the result
of his inquiries regarding him, and at this point error begins. He represents
him as having seven children. He had, as already noticed, only one. He
says he was told, " that he walked from Scotland with no other Ibrtune than
the novel of the Independent in one pocket, and the tragedy of Vimonda in the
other." The novel alluded to was published four years before he went to Lon-
don ; and Vimonda had been brought out at Edinburgh a considerable time
before he left that city. D'Israeli speaks of the literary success which the
" romantic poet" had anticipated while yet " among his native rocks." The
reader need scarcely be reminded that IMacdonald was born in tlie immediate
vicinity of the Scottish capital, and that the whole of his life, previously to his
leaving Scotland, was spent in the cities of Edinburgh and Glasgow, and great
part of it in ^^hat has always been considered the profession of a gentleman.

MACFAKLANE, Robert, a political and miscellaneous writer, was born in
the year 1734, and educated at the university of I'-dinburgli. At an early
jieriod of life lie proceeded to London, in search of a livelihood, and for many
years kept an academy of considerable reputation at ^^'ahhamstow. He engaged
warmly in the political disputes which took place during the Bute administra-
tion ; and, in 1770, concentrated his sentiments respecting them in a '' History
of the Reign of George III.," 8vo. This work, without possessing any large
share of intrinsic merit, had a curious history. 'Ihe author quarrelled with the
publisher, (Mr Evans,) who, in 1782, issued a second, and, in 1794, a third

DUxNCAN MACINTYRE. 601

volume, botli wi'itten by a different person ; Mr Macfarlane, then became re-
conciled to Mr Evans, and added a fourth volume. Mr Mactarlane at one timo
edited the Morning Chronicle. He was also engaged, it is said, in the pre-
paration of the Poems of Ossian, some of which he afterwards translated into
Latin verse. He had an essay upon the authenticity of those celebrated pro-
ductions in the press, when he was crushed to death in one of the mobs which
distinguished the election contest for Westminster, between Sir Francis Burdett
and Mr Maiuwaring, August 8, 1804. In 1797, Mr Macfarlane published
" An Address to tiie People of Great Britain, on the present Fortune and fu-
ture Prospect of Public Afiairs," by which it appears that he had now become
more attached to the government than he had formerly been. In 1801, he
published an English translation of Buchanan's celebrated tract, " Ue Jure
Kegni," prefaced with two disputations, in which there is much curious anti-
quarian and historical matter.

MACINTYRE, Duncan, one of the best of the modern Highland poets,
^va3 born in Druiiulaiquhart, in the district of Glenorchy, Argyleshire , on the
20th March, 1724. He was the child of poor parents, and never received the
slightest tincl^ure of school learning. He was engaged in the civil war of
1745, but on the loyal side. Local and family ties made him a member of
the large force which Argyleshire sent forth on that occasion to support the
government, and he fought at the battle of Falkirk under the command of colonel
Campbell of Carahin. It is not to be inferred on this account that he had any
antipathy to the cause in whi(;h so many of his countrymen were engaged. He
was involved in the disgraceful retreat of the king's troops, in which he lost his
sword, circumstances which gave him no small degree of mortification, as he has
himself shown by the clever song which he wrote upon the occasion. At what
period of his life he commenced the composition of poetry, is not known. His
only models in the art must have been tiiose legendary verses of various kinds
and ages, Avhich the Highlanders used to recite by the winter fire-side, and hand
down from one generation to another, by oral connmmication.' Of the gram-
matical principles of language, he must have been completely ignorant ; his
knowledge would be confined in a great measure to the objects of his own High-
land vale, and to the Scriptural lore whicli he would hear occasionally expounded
in the parish church. He possessed, however, the genuine talent of the poet —
not only that natural eloquence which supplies imagery and suggests incident
and allusion, but that felicitous power of expression, whicii from its being alike
found in the untutored Burns and the refined Horace, ought to be considered
as much a native gift as any other. This poor Highlander — the reader cannot
conceive any man poorer in the goods of fortune — is said to exhibit in his
poetry a purity and aptitude of diction, and a harmony of versification, such as
are not surpassed in the poetry of any age or country. He may not only, in-
deed, be introduced here as a Scotsman who has earned a respectable fame,
but he might be instanced, in woi-ks more expressly devoted to the consider-
ation of the intellectual powers of men, as a singular specimen of original and
brilliant talent, altogether unfavoured by direct instruction, and going content-
edly side by side for a long life with a character of the most simple and un-
worldly kind.

Being an excellent marksman, Duncan — or, as he was generally styled by
his countrymen, Donacha Ban, (fair-haired Duncan). — was appointed forester to
the earl of Breadalbane in Coire-C/teathaich and Bein Dourain, and thereafter
to the duke of Argyle, in Buachill-Gie. In 1768, a volume of his poems was

' There was not a printed book in the Gaelic language wliich contained anj- sort of poetn'
except the Psalms, until Alexander Macdonald publislied his Gaelic Songs in 1751.

502 DUNCAN MACINTYRE.

published at Edinburgh, under tlio descriptive title of "Orain Ghaidliealach^ le
Uonacha Mac-an-t-soir ; " it was reprinted in 1790, and again in 1 S04,^ and
has long been out of print. One of the poems in this volume was " Oraa na
Briogais," or, as it may be freely rendered, " The Anatiiema of the Breaks,"
being a pretty open expression of llie most disloyal sentiment on the part of
the author, respecting the abolition of the lligliland, and the substitution of the
Lowland dress, \vhich formed one of the measures of the government for break-
ing the Jacobite spirit, after the rebellion of L715. It is well known tliat the
Highlanders in general resented this measure very bitterly, and none more so
than such as, like 3Iacintyre, had been loyal to the king during the late
broils. They deemed the breeches at once a literal and emblematic restraint —
a thing unsuited to their habits as well as tastes — and, as is plainly intimated
by Donacha Ban, a sufficient cause of oll'ence to cause a universal rising in fa-
vour of prince Charles, should he ever again appear in the country. Of the
spirit of this poem we can give no fair specimen — though the first stanza has
been cleverly rendered in the following terms : —

Mj' curse upon the grcj' brecks,
That bhid our suppis limbs so light

M'e're fcttor-bouml in slavery;

And right is now oVrcome by might.

Had we been fuitliful to our king,

We ne'er should have to dree such tin'ng,

But light's a bird upon the wing
IMight be each free-boni mountain wight.

When by the exertions of the marquis of Graham, (he act for abolishing the
Highland dress was repealed (I7S2), Dlacintyre celebrated the event in a
peean of clamorous joy, such as would have done honour to a repelled invasion or
a liberated country. These poems, with an English translation, are to be found
in the Cambrian and Caledonian Magazine for October, 1333.

In 1793, the poet, though advanced to a considerable age, became a private
in a fencible regiment then raised by the earl of Breadalbane, in which situation
he continued till the corps was disbanded in 1799. It is probably to a period
antecedent to either of these dates, that we are to ascribe an anecdote of Mac-
intyre, which was related to the editor of this dictionary by the late IMr Alex-
ander Campbell, editor of Albyn's Anthology. The earl of Breadalbane, being
anxious to provide permanently for the latter life of his ingenious dependent,
consulted the poet himself, as to the way in which he thought that object might
be best accomplished. Macintyre, whose whole life had been passed in the
humblest obscurity, undisturbed by so much as a wish for any thing better, took
some time to consider the matter, and to make inquiries, and then came to his
lordship with a request that he would exert his influence to procure a place for
him in the city-guard of Edinburgh, a military police whom Sir Walter Scott
has since rendered classical by his pen ; but who were then the alternate scoff
and terror of their fellow townsmen at sixpence a day I Into this antiquated
corps — for such it was, both in its general character, and in respect of the age
of most of its members — Macintyre was accordingly transplanted ;* thus ex-
changing the Highland solitude, whence the inspiration and enjoyment of his
whole life had been derived, for the duties of a peace-officer in one of the most
crowded streets in the world, where every object must have been to him artificial

^ " Gaelic Songs by Duncan Macintyre."

' With some additional poems composed during. these intervals.

■• He composed a poem in Edinburgh, in which he shows the poetical talent of nice ob-
servation, describing every remarkable or novel object, but without any expression of sur-
prise.

DUNCAN MACINTYRE. 503

a;ii strange. It is an affecting illustration, however, of the pleasure which un-
ambitious minds may derive from humble sources, that the poet wrote upon this oc-
casion aself-gratulatory ode, in which he expresses quite as bounding a transport at
his accession to a salary of sixpence a day, as Napoleon could have done at the
addition of a kingdom to his dominions. We have thought this poem so extra-
ordinary a curiosity in its way, as to make a translation of it, with which we
have been furnished by an obliging friend, the example to be presented in
this place of the style of Macintyre, so far as the unavoidable formality and
lameness of a literal English version can exemplify the exquisite graces of the
Gaelic bard.

TRANSLATION OF VERSES TO HIS MUSKET

BY DUNCAN JIACINTVRE.

IManj' a turn of fortune may happen to a man,
He may fall in love with one he may not get —
I devoted twenty years to the first I fancied,.
But she forsook me and I was left alone.

I came to Edinburgh to seek a sweetheart :
Said captain Campbell in the town guard.
That he knew a widow in a secret place.
And would endeavour to put her in my way ;

He did, as he was wont, fulfill his promise ;

He gave her to me by the hand, and her portion with her.

Whoever may ask her name or surname.

They call her Janet,* and George was her grandsire.

She is quiet and affable, without gloom or vexing look,
And as high in rank as any lady in the land •,
She is the means of my support since she joined me —
Great is the cause of grief to him who has not got her.

I have forsaken Nic-Coshum,' tho' she still lives,

And allowed the crested stags to wander where they please ;

I have chosen a young wife, which I do not repent ;

I am not without wealth since I espoused the fair one.

I pass my word that she is most excellent,

And that 1 never discovered any hidden fault in her;

She is stately, fine, straight, and sound,

AVithout defect or blemish, twist or bend.

When needy folks are pinched for money,
George's daughter will not let my poeket be empty ;
She keeps me in drink in the alehouses,
And pa} s every sloup that I call for.

She does every turn as I bid her,

She tells me no lie nor false story ;

She keeps my family as well as 1 could wish,

Though I do no labour nor dirty work.

I worked laboriously though I amassed no wealth,
I vowed that I would disdain to be a menial ;
I have ceased to toil since I have remarked
That the idle man endures longest.

It is my loving wife who will not deceive me ;
She is able alwa\s to earn my bread,
I shall have no lack of clothes or linen,
And worldly cares now give me no concern.

6 A bveword for a regimental firelock, but never applied to any other gun.
J A favourite fowling piece to which he composed another song.

501 .GEORGE MACKENZIE.

How long lie reniainod in tlie situation alluiled to lins nut been n5certaine<!.
The latter years of liis life were spent in I-Minbtirgh, and are said to have been
cheered by the bonnty of iho earl of Ihcadalbane. He died in that city, October,
I SI 2, in tlie S<)ih year of his a^e.

" In his young days," says the author of l?il)li()thora Scoto-Celtica, " Mar-
intyre was r(M)iarkal)ly handsome, and throiiohoiit his MJioIe life, he possessed a
very easy and a^reonble disposition. Althou:^!)^ wlien provoked, his enemies
generally fi-U the cflects of his jtridc and resentment, yet to his benefactors he
was equally grateful. He was very fond of company and a «;hecrful glass, and
was not only very agreeable over his bottle, but also very circumsi»ect. Al-
though IMacinlyre discovered an early inclination to poetry, he did not produce
any thing till the memorable battle of I'alkirk, a description of which forms
the first song in the valuable coUei'tion published by him, wherein it is said to
have been his (irst regular attempt at composition. The collection contains
lyric, comic, epic, and religious compositions, of such merit as renders it difh-
cult to say in what department of poetry this writer most excelled. * * l!is
poetical talents justly entitled him to rank among the first of Celtic bards, for
all good judges of Celtic poetry agree that nothing like the purity of his Gaelic,
and the style of his poetry, has appeared in the Highlands.^ Of Donacha Ban it
might justiy be said,

« Nan leabliailh eas' 6g gach oian a's sgeul,
(,'l.a cluiireadli neach beo a ghlasgliui!) air a' bheul '.' "

MACKENZIE, Georgk, first earl of Cromarty, a distinguished politiral r.nd
literary character, was born in the year 1G30, being the eldest son of Sir John
Mackenzie of Tarbat, by Jlargaret, daughter of Sir George Erskine of Innerteil,
one of the senators of the college of justice. He succeeded his father in 1G54,
and acted a conspicuous part in the irregular warfare carried on at that period
by general IMiddleton, against the forces of Cromwell. After the liestoration,
when Middleton received an earldom, and was appointed to the direction of
Scottish affairs. Sir George Mackenzie became his principal confidant, and had
a prominent share in the transactions connected with the celebrated billetiinj
act, which ended in the common disgrace of the earl and Sir George. The
latter, consequently, remained unemployed throughout the whole administration
of the duke of Lauderdale. He afterwards obtained that promotion to which
his extraordinary talents entitled him. In 1G78, he was appointed justice
general for Scotland, and, in 16 81, a lord of session, and lord register. In
16 85, James II. created him viscount of Tarbat, by which name he is best
knoAvn. Though an active and unscrupulous agent of the two last Stuarts, he

s Note by a correspondent. — All tl.is must be taken in a very qualified sense. There is
nothing approaching to sublimity in the whole range of Macintyre's com positions. His poem in
praise of Bendouiain is in somewhat of a heroic strain ; but it scarcely deserves the name of
Epic. Alexander INIacdonald was far superior to him in what is usually understood by the
term genius; but from his classical education he was less scrupulous about the purity of liis
style, and his works abound in classical allusions. It is to the purity of his language, and the
harmony of his numbers, that Marintyre owes his fame in a great measure. In these quali-
ties he IS almost equalled if not rivalled by ]\Iary Macleod, an untutored poetess, but licr
compositions are not so numeious, and she had not the varied talent of IMaciiitAre. As al-
ready said, Lis poetry is chiefly of a descriptive character, and Dr Johnson's ciiticism on
Thomson's Seasons may be applied to him, with this qualification, that his comprehension of
the vast was not equal to his attention to the minute. His love songs are remarkable for
delicacy of sentiment — and his descriptions of the chase are vci-y animated. Here he was
quite at home. Some of his pieces are valuable as descriptive of country manners, now al-
most extinct. He may be called the Pope of the Highlands, as IMacdonald was the Byron,
and ^Villiam Ross the "Burns. Macdonald had more originality of genius than any of the
Hi^hkand poets; but it was irregular and not under proper restraint — Bos;, for tenderness
and sensibility, was what Burns may be supposed to have been if Jie had been born and bred
in the Highlands. ]\Iacintyre was more agreeable.

SIR GEORGE MACKENZIE. 505

had no objection to continue in employment under the system of things estab-
lished at the Revolution. But king William, to wliom he lost no time in paying
his respects, did not think pi'oper to employ him till 1692, uhen his lordship
was restored to his office of lord register.

Here the evil habits he had (lontracted under the late government appear to
have still clung to him. The spirit which induced Cliarles II. to say, that, though
Lauderdale was complained of by the people, he did not seem to iiave done any
thing contrary to th« interests of the sovereign, was what animated this veteran
instrument of arbitrary authority. Having been accused of falsifying the mi-
nutes of parliament for private ol\jects, he does not appear to have paid tlie least
regard to the truth or falsity of the cliarge : in his defence, addressed to Mr
Carstairs, he dwells only on the malice which animated liis accusers, and on
the constancy of his own attachment to the king. He found it necessary, how-
ever, to retire upon a pension of £400 a-year. In a subsequent letter, he is
found petitioning for a remission, and in such terms as gives a curious idea of
the state of moral feeling among politicians in that age: — " I wish," says he,
*' to have a very general remission sent me, because I see faults fisli't for in
others upon as great grounds. If it conies, let it contain treason, perduellion,
and a general of all crhnes ; though, on all that's sacred, I know not myself
guilty, nor do I fear any thing on this side Irish witnesses or evidence." At
the accession of queen Anne, tliis able statesman was made secretary of state
for Scotland ; an office which he resigned in 1704, for that of justice general.
In 1703, he was elevated to the dignity of earl of Cromarty. Having resigned
the justice generalship in 1710, he retired Some years after, to his seat of New
Tarbat, in Ross-shire, intending, without any apparent regard to his advanced
age, to live there in an economical manner for six years, in order that he might
be subsequently enabled to reside in London. The design was almost at the
very outset interrupted by death ; his lordship expiring, August 17, 1714. He
has an elegant obelisk erected to his memory in the neigiibourhood of Dingwall.

The earl of Cromarty, notwithstanding the faults already alluded to, is ac-
knowledged to have been a good-natured man, " possessed of a great measure of
polite learning, and good parts, and master of an extraordinary gift of pleasing
and diverting conversation, which rendered him one of the most entertaining
companions in the world. He was one of the original fellows of the Royal So-
ciety, and reckoned among the ablest members of that learned body ; in the
Philosophical Transactions, many papers of his lordship may be seen. His other
publications, arranged in chronological order are, 1. A Vindication of king Robert
IlL from the imputation of Bastardy, Edin. 1695, 4to. — 2. The mistaken Advan-
tage of Raising of Money, Edin. 1G95, 4to 3. Letter to the Earl of Wemyss,

concerning the Union with England, 1706, 4to — 4. Friendly Response to a
Letter concerning Sir George Mackenzie's and Sir John Nisbet's Observations and
Response on the matter of the Union, 1706, 4to — 5. Synopsis Apocalyptica,
or, a Short and Plain Explication of Daniel's Prophecy, and of St John's Reve-
lation in concert with it, 1707, 4to 0. Historical Account of the Conspiracy

of the Earl of Gowrie and of Robert Logan of Restalrig, against king James
VI., 1713, 8vo. — 7. A Vindication of the same from the Mistakes of Mr John
Anderson, Preacher of Dumbarton, in his Defence of Presbytery, 1714, 8vo.

MACKENZIE, (Sir) George, a celebrated lawyer and state officer, and per-
h:ips the first Scotsman who wrote the English language in a style approaching
to purity, was born at Dundee, in 1636. His father was Simon Mackenzie of
Lochslin, brother of the earl of Seaforth, and his mother Elizabeth Bruce,
daughter of Dr Peter Bruce, principal of St Leonard's college, St Andrews.
His progress at school was 60 rapid, that in his tenth year he was master of

500 SIR GEOUGE MACKENZIE.

ill! the classical niilhors usually taught in sdiools. lie al'lerwards studied (ireek
and pliilosopliy in the univorsilies of St Andre\\s and Ahordeen, and civil law
in that of IJoiirges in France; and, in January, 1G5J, before the termination of
iiis twenty-third year, entered as an advo&ite at the Scottish bar.

In l()t)i), he j)ubiislied his .Vretina, or Serious IJoniance, in which, according
to his Kind bioj;raj>lier, liuddinian, he gives " a very briglit 8])ecinien of liis gay
and exuberant genius." His talents must have been early observed and appre-
ciated, for in IGUl, his third year at the bar, he was selected as one of tiie
counsel of the marquis of Argyle, theJi tried by a commission of parliament for
high treason. On this occasion, he acted with so much firmness, and even bold-
ness, as at once established his character. As the counsel for Argyle were ajn
pointed by parliament, they presented a petition under form of protest, that in
the defence of their client, they might not be made responsible for every ex-
pression tliey migiit utter, but that a latitude and freedom of expression, suitable
to the extent and difficulty of the charges they were called upon to canvass,
might be allowed them. This being peremptorily refused, Sir George and his
associates took such steps, in consequence, as subjected them to the imminent
risk of a charge of treason : " it is impossible to plead for a traitor," said the
young lawyer, " without speaking treason ! " an antithesis certainly more bold
llian true, but calculated to make a considerable impression upon the multitude.
The counsel only escaped from the consequences of their rashness by the special
mercy of the court.

The purely literary labours of this eminent person, appear to have been
chieily executed during his earlier years. His " Religio Stoici, or a short Dis-
course upon several divine and moral subjects," appeared in 1GG3. Two years
afterwards, lie published his Moral Essai/ upon Solitude, preferring it to
public enjployment, with all its appendages, such as fame, connnand, riches,
pleasures, conversation, &c. This production ^vas answered by the celebrated
Evelyn, in a I'anegyric on Active Life. " It seems singular," says the Edin-
burgh Review, " that Mackenzie, plunged in the harshest labours of ambition,
should be the advorate of retirement, and that Evelyn, comparatively a recluse,
should have conmiended that mode of life which he did not choose."' Cut it is
probable that eacli could ^vrite most freshly on circumstances disconnected with
the daily events of his life, while speculative ingenuity was all they cared to
reach in their arguments. " You had reason to be astonished," says Evelyn,
writing to Cowley, " that I, who had so much celebrated recess, should become
an advocate for the enemy. I conjure you to believe that I am still of the same
mind, and there is no person who can do more honour, and breathe more after
the life and repose you so happily cultivate and advance by your example; but
as those who praised dirt, a flea, or the gout, so have I public employment, and
that in so weak a style compared with my antagonists, as by that alone it would
appear, that I neither was nor could be serious.'' In 1667, Mackenzie pub-
lished his Moral Gallantry, one of the reflective treatises of the period, intend-
ing to prove the gentlemanliness of virtue, and the possibility of establishing all
moral duties on principles of honour — a theory supported by arguments which,
had any of the nicer metaphysical minds of the succeeding age thought fit to
drive to their ultimate principles, they might have found to be somewhat inimi-
Cxil to the author's hearty church of England feelings, or even the principles of
Christianity. But Mr Mackenzie was not a metaphysician, and religion re-
quired to be plainly spoken, in terms of presbyterianism or papistry, before it
attracted his legal attention. To this production he added a Consolation acjuiuRt
Calumnies. The fiery course of politics which he had afterwards to run, made

SIR GEORGE MACKENZIE. 507

a hiatus of considerable extent, in the elegant literary pursuits of Mackenzie;
but after his retirement from public life, he wrote another work which may be
classified with those just mentioned — The Moral History of Frugality ; nor
in this classification must we omit his Essay on Reason. iMackenzie had as-
sociated himself with the elegant wits of England, and his opportunities enabled
him, if he was inferior in the actual bullion of genius to many of his country-
men who had gone before him, to give it a more elegant, or, at least, fashion-
able form. It is probable that any direct imitation, on the part of iMackenzie,
may have been from the writings of Cowley, who, in tiie youth of the ambitious
Scottish author, was the acknowledged leader of refinement in English composi-
tion. From his opponent Evelyn, he may also have derived facilities in com-
position ; but it is probable that the best tone he assumed was iiuparted by the
colloquial influence of Dryden. Of Mackenzie, that great man has left an
interesting memorial : — " Had I time, I could enlarge on the beautiful turns of
words and thoughts, which are as requisite in this, as in heroic poetry itself.
With these beautiful turns I confess myself to have been unacquainted, till about
twenty years ago, in a conversation which I had with that noble wit of Scotland,
Sir George Mackenzie. He asked me why I did not imitate, in my verse, the
turns of Mr Waller and Sir John Denham, of whom he repeated many to nie.
I had often read with pleasure, and with some profit, these two fathers of our
English poetry, but had not seriously enough considered their beauties, which
give the last perfection to their works. Some sprinkling of this sort I had also
formerly in my plays, but they were rasual and not designed. But this hint,
thus seasonably given me, first made me sensible of my own wants, and brought
me afterwards to seek for the supply of them in other English authors." This
is given by Dryden in his Discourse on the Origin and Progress of Satire, pre-
fixed to his Juvenal, published two yeai's after Mackenzie's death. Mackenzie
is characterized by the Edinburgli Review, as having been in his style not exempt
from Scotticisms: "but he is perfectly free fi'om those, perhaps, more disagree-
able vices, into which more celebrated Scottish writers have been betrayed, by a
constant fear of Scotticisui. He composes easily and freely, and his style is that
of a man who writes his native language." Meanwhile, along with his elegant
prose, he found time and inclination to dabble in poetry. Sometime during his
early years, at the bai', he wrote ** Celias' Country House and Closet/' a poem in
English epics, and written in a manner more nearly akin to the style of Pope
and his contemporaries, than that which flourished in the author's own time.
Sucli a passage as the following will enable the reader to comprehend at once
the merit of the work, and, taking into consideration the political life of the
author, its artificial feeling ; —

" O happy country life, pure as its air;
Free from the rage o* pride, the pangs of care ;
Here happy souls lie bathed in soft content,
And are at once secure and innocent.
No passion here but love : here is no wound,
But that by which lovers their names confound
Oil barks of trees, whilst with a smiling face,
They see those letters as themselves embrace."

Country life, and love in the midst of it, were standing characteristics of the
fashionable poetry of the period, and the stormy politician, anxious, like Riche-
lieu, to distinguish himself in song, must submit to them, as absolutely as the
love-sick swain, to whom they are a natural habit. The author seems to have
been apprehensive that the fruit of his more elegant studies would not give the

503 SIR GEORGE MACKENZIE.

worlil a favourable opinion of liis professional attainments. " The miihi-
tiiiie," he siys in the conrlusion to ills llelii^ious Stoic, " (\\hi(;h, albeit, it halii
ever been aiio>\etl many iiculs, yet hath nu'ver been allowed any brains.) Avill
doubtless a(!<;:ise my studies ol adultery, fur iiug^jinir contem])lations so eccentric
to my employment. 'I'o these my return is, that these papers are but the par-
ings of my other studies, and because they were but prirings, 1 have flun«»' them
out into the streets. I wrote them in my retiiements, when I waiiled both
books and employment ; and I resolve, that this sliall be the last inroad I shall
ever make into foreign contemplations."

Let us now turn fr<nn his literature to the political and professional advance-
ment, which interfered with its progress, or at least changed its course. Soon
after the Restoration, he was appointed a justice-depute, or assisLant to the justi-
ciar or chief justice ; a situation, the duties of wliich were almost efpiivalent to
that of an J'^nglisli |)uisne judge of the present day, in miminal matters. He
must have rei;eived the appointment very early in life, as in IGGl, he and his
colleagues were appointed to repair " Gn<;e in the week at least to .Ahisselburgh
and Dalkeith, and to try and judge such persons as are ther or therabout de-
lated of witchcraft ;" and the experience in the dark sciences, obtained by him
in this occupation, provide*! him with much grave and learned matter for his
ivork on the criminal law of Scotland. Within a few years after this period,
(the time is not particularly ascertained,) he was knighted. In IGGD, he repre-
sented the county of Ross, where the intluenc.e of his Jhmily was extensive, in
parliament. During that year, the letter of Charles, proposing the innuediate
consideration of a plan for an incorporating union of the two kingdoms, was
read in parliament. Sir George, an enemy to every thing Avhich struitk at the
individual consequence and hereditary greatness of the country, in whicli he held
a stake, ojiposed tlie proposition. He tells us, in his amusing memoirs of the
period, that when the coiumissioner proposed an ans\ver, closing with the king's
proposals, and entitling him to tiie election of the connnissioner, he moved, that
the parliament should have a day for the consideration of so serious a matter,
as tliere might be questions about succession to be discussed, " whereupon the
Connnissioner rose in a great passion, and told tliat he consented that the par-
linmenl sln)uld deliberate upon the letter now read till to-morrow ; but that he
understood not, how any member of parliament could be so bold as to inquire
into the succession, upon a supposition that his majesty, and all the present royal
line, should fail." Next day, Sir (ieorge came prepared with a speech on the
subject. Of this somewhat interesting ellort, he lias given us a transcript, ^vhich
is generally understood to be the earliest authentically reported specimen of
legislative eloquence in Scotland. It is compact, clear, accurate, Avell com-
posed, without llights of ardour, and, therefore, destitute of the burning impetu-
osity wliich afterwards distinguished Fletcher and lieihaven. On the whole, it
appears, in its present form at least, to liaveTbeen composed in the closet. His
reasoning, when the aim is considere<l, was prudent and cautious — he considered
and doubted " whether it was suitable to our honour, to advance in this union
those steps, before England met us in one : and that we have done so in this
letter, appears from this, that to treat of an union is one step ; the second is to
name commissioners ; the third is to appoint their quorum, time, and place
of their meeting : all which are several steps bec.ause they behoved, if they
had been concluded in parliament, to have had several votes and conclusions."
He also doubted, " whether it were filter for his majesty's service, and the in-
tended treaty, that the nomination of the commissioners should be referred to
his majesty, or ratlier that they should l)e nominatrd in parliament." His
speech give great oii'ence to those who had peculiar grounds for objecting to

SIR GEORGE MACKENZIE. 509

long harangues. " About tl:e close of his discourse, he was Interrupted by the
earl of Tweeddale, who said, that such long discourses were intolerable, espe-
cially where they intended to persuade the parliament not to comply with his
majesty's desires — wiiich interruption was generally looked upon as a breach of
privilege — and it was desired by duke Hamiltoun, that the earl of Tweeddale
should go to the bar ; but the gentleman who wa.s interrupted declared, that he
had not been interrupted, but had finished his discourse; and, thereupon, that
motion took no further effect." Sir George sought distinction in his course
through parliament by popular measures. In 16G9, an act had been passed,
compelling merchants to make oath as to their having paid duties on their mer-
chandise. " The commissioner had that day said, that the stealing of tiie king's
customs Avas a crime, which was to be provided against: whereupon, Sir George
Mackenzie replied, that if it was a crime, no man could be forced to swe.ar for it ;
for by no law under heaven was it ever oi'dained that a man should swear in what
Avas criminal. This, and all other passages of that day, joined with Sir George
owning the burghs, in which it was alleged he had no proper interest, made his
grace swear, in his return from the parliament, that he would have that factious
young man removed from the parliament : to effectuate wliich, he called a
council of his favourites, and it was there contri\'ed, that his election should be
quaiTelled, because he held only lands of tiie bishop of Koss, but not of his
majesty, and so was not a free baron. But they were at last diverted from this
resolution by the register, who assured them, that this would make the people
jealous of some close design to overturn their liberties, which, as they be-
lieved, that gentleman defended upon all occ^asions ; and that he would glory
in his exclusion, because it would be believed that they could not e/lec-
tuate their intentions, if he were allowed to keep his place in parlia-
ment." Such is his own account of his parliamentary conduct, — it may be
correct in point of fact, and he has abstained from any mention of the mo-
tives. He opposed the act of forfeiture against the western rebels, insist-
ing that no man ought to be found or proved guilty in absence. His account
of the opposition of the advo(\ates on the subject of appeals, along with his
somewhat suspicious conduct towards his rival Lockhart, have been already de-
tailed." Sir George Mackenzie would have gone to the grave with the charac-
ter of a patriot, liad he not been placed in a position «here serving a king was
more beneficial than serving the people. On tlie 23d of August, 1677, he was
named king's advocate, on the dismission of Sir John Nisbet. The object of
the change w;is a subject of deep and well founded suspicion. Sir George
states that his precm-sor, " a person of deep and universal learning, liaving dis-
obliged my lord Hatton, he procured a letter to the lords of session, ordaining
them to make inquiry into his having consulted pro et con. in the case of the
lord chancellor and lord .Alelvilie, concerning tlie tailzie of the estate of Leven,"
and Sir George amiably represents himself as having persuaded Nisbet to stand
to his defence. Wodrow observes that he was appointed, "some say upon a very
sordid reas(ui ;" and Bta-net distinctly states, that it was for the purpose of
prosecuting Mitchell, who had been pardoned four years before for the attempted
murder of Sharps ; at all events this was liis first diity in his high office — it was
one which on the whole required some address. IMnckenzie had prepared iiim-
self, by having been counsel for Mitchell when he was previously tried. " ^le
was a very great instrument." s lys Wodrow, " in the hands of the presbyterians,
and was scarce ever giiliy of moderating any hirsh proceedings against them,
in the eyes of the prel .tes themselves." As the trial of the earl of Argyle in
IbGl, was the first important political case in which he had tried his powers as
2 In the Life of liir George Lockhait.

510 SIR GEORGE MACKENZIE.

n defoiuler, so was that of 'lis son in IGSl, tlie first wliicli exeicist'd liis abilities
as a state prosecutor. In tlie f.ithcr's case ho had to resist the oitpressive fic-
tions of tht' croivn lawyers, but all he sulKTcd was amply repaid on the son.
After this cjlehrated trial, lie appears to have obtained, as part of the Rpf)il, a
gift of the barony of Hute, ratified by the parliament of KiHl.^ On the re-
capture of the earl after his escape, Mackenzie was one of those who objected
to .1 new trial, and he accordingly reconunciided his suffering on his former
sentence ; he is allcfjed to have done so from the probability, that, owing to the
extreuie injustice of the sentence, his heirs might probaijly be restored to their
heritage. If such was indeed his motive, no man was ever more improvident of
his own fame, or disinterested in sacrificing it for otliers ; but Mr Laing has
shrewdly observed, " no doubt Sir George at the Revolution would assume that
merit with Argyle's son, when they sat together in the eonvention parliament.
But he was the man who procured, when king's advocate, that illegal sentence,
on which he moved for Argyle's execution."' IMeanwhile liis professional inge-
nuity had been employed in the case of the lawburrows, by which a legal form,
useful in the defence of the subject against lawless aggression, was, by adding
to its natural power the weight of the royal influence, made an engine of op-
pression. It would be a vain task to enumerate the minor state prosecutions,
Avhich, in this eventful period, gave full employment to this active servant of
government — most of them are well known, and they were at any rate numer-
ous enough to stamp him in the minds of his opponents with a character which
must live with his name — " The blood-thirsty advocate." In the year IGSO,
he tried the celebrated Cargill, who, among other acts of inefficacious spiritual
authority, had pronounced sentence of excommunication on the lord advocate.
When the indictment was read, bearing, in the ordinary terms, that the
accused " having cast off all fear of God," &c., the clerk was interrupted by
Cargill, who said, " The man who hath caused this paper to be drawn up, hath
done it contrary to the light of his own conscience, for he kno\veth that I have
been a fearer of God from my infancy ; but that man, I say, who took the holy
Bible in his hand, and said it would never be well with the land till that book
was destroyed, I say, he is the man who hath cast off all fear of God." In 10 84,
after the escape of Sir Hugh Campbell, it being felt necessary that Baillie of Jer-
viswood should sutler, Mackenzie's energies were exercised on the occasion ; and he
gained the gratitude of the court, by doing what was wanted. Fountainhall has a
characteristic note about his proceedings at this period. " Sir William Scott, of
Harden, fined in 1500 lb. sterling, for his ladle's being at a conventicle, and being
at one himself. It was said the king's advocate. Sir Geox'ge Mackenzie, got a
previous gift of this fine, for journeys to London."^ Sir George found it neces-
sary to attempt a vindiration of his acts, under the title of " A Vindication of the
Government of Charles II.," which, lord Woodhouselee calmly observes, " will
fully justify his conduct in the breast of every man whose judgment is not
perverted by the same prejudices, hostile to all government, which led those
infatuated offenders to the doom they merited."^ Sir George -was a calm and
thinking man, and his vindication bears the aspect of candour ; but it is de-
ficient in conclusiveness. " No age," he says, " did see so many thousands
pardoned, nor so many indemnities granted, as was in his time : which, as it
nmst be principally ascribed to the extraordinary clemency of the kings he
served, so it may be in some measure imputed to the bias which Sir George had
to the merciful hand." Sir George leaves out of view, that it is possible for
one lord advocate so far to exceed another in the number of his prosecutions,

3 Acts, viii, 679. ■» History, ii. 154. 5 Fountiiinhall's Notes, 70,

^ Life of Kiimcii, i. Ap. 12.

SIR GEORGE MACKENZIE. 511

ns both to acquit an<l sacrifice more than the whole number accused by his
brethren. It uas not those who were forgiven, but those >vho were not for-
given, that fix upon the reign of Charles II., and also upon his Scottish advo-
cate, the indelible character of oppi-ession and blood-thirstiness. It must at tlie
same time, be allowed, that the acute mind of Sir George Mackenzie was never
asleep to practical improvements in jurisprudence, although the liist of power
was sufficient to subdue his efibrts, or turn them into another course. While he
wielded the SAvord of persecution himself, he did much to unfit it for the use of
others. He countenanced and cherished a principle, which called for the exa-
mination of all witnesses in criminal cases, in presence of the accused, instead of
the secret chamber of the privy council. A frightful fiction of tlie law of both
countries, by which no evidence could be led by a prisoner in opposition to the
assertions of the libel made by the prosecutor, as representing tlie king, \ir.s
removed by Sir George, forty years before it ceased to exist in England ; and
he put a stop to the system of permitting the clerk of court to be enclosed with
the king, for the purpose of assisting him. This was done with a view to pre-
serve the independence of jurymen ; but let it be remarked, that in his work on
criminal law, he advises the total abolition of trial by jury. In 16SG, Mac-
kenzie showed that he had a feeling of conscience, and that his religion, if en-
tirely political, was not accurately squared to personal aggrandizement, by suf-
fering himself to be dismissed for not agreeing to the catholic projects of James
II. In 1688, however, he was restored, on the advancement of his successor,
Dalrymple, to the presidency of the court of session.' The devolution ter-
minated his political career. At this feverish moment of struggle and disap-
pointment, he could so far abstract his mind from politics, as to perform the
greatest public service which is even now connected with his name, by founding
the Advocates' Library. The inaugural speech which was pronounced on the
occasion, is preserved in his works. The institution has flourished, and re-
deems Scotland from the imputation of not possessing an extensive public
library. After the Revolution, Sir George threw himself into the arms of the
university of Oxford, the fittest receptacle for so excellent a vindicator of the
old laws of divine right. He was admitted a student on the 2nd of June, 1 fiOO ;
but he did not long live to feel the blessings of the retirenient he had praised,
and for the first time experienced. He died at St James's on the 2nd May,
1G9I. He was still remembered in the national feeling as a great man, and
his funeral was one of unusual pomp. He lay several days in slate in the
abbey of Holyrood House, whence his body was conveyed to the Grey Friars'
churchyai'd, attended by a procession, consisting of the council, the nobility,
the college of justice, the college of pHiysicians, the univcreity, the clergy, and
many others.

Sir George wrote several works of a more laborious cast than those to which
we have referred. His Institute of the Law of Scotland is well arranged, but,
in comparison with the profoundness of Dalrymple, is meagre, and its brevity
makes it of little use. His Laws and Customs in Matters Criminal, is full of
useful information, and is the earliest arrangement (thougli not a very clear one)
of our criminal code. His " Observations on the Laws and Customs of Nations
as to Precedency, with the Science of Heraldry as part of the Law of N.itions,"
is esteemed by heralds. When Stiilingfleet and Lloyd made their critical at-
tacks on the fabulous history of Scotland, Sir (leoige, who seemed to consider
it a very serious matter to deprive his majesty of forty ancestors, wrote in 1G80
" A Defence of the Royal Line of Scotland," in which he comes forward as his
majesty's advocate, and distinctly hints to the contemners of the royal line,

7 Fouiitiiiiihal!, 267.

512 IIKNRY MACKENZIE.

timl, had tlioy written in Scotian'l, lie nii<,'lit li;ive li.id occ.nsion to j)iit Ilia autho-
rity in force against tlie.m. 'I'liese uorUs, alon^: witli llie olist'ivatioiis on llic acta
of parliament, and some oilier minor productions, were edited by Kuddiman, in
two handsdiue folio volumes, in 17 •22. His " ^Memoirs," or account of liis own
times, certainly the most interesiiiiir of all his works, though promised at
that time, was williiield through the timidity of his friends. When long lost
sight of, the greater partof it has of laie years been recovered to the world. It
is full of graphic pictures of the stale of the times ; and if not so desc-riplive in
character as Clarendon or IJuriiet, is often more lively in the detail of inci-
dent, and more acute in perc^-iving the sellish motives of the actors.

IMACKENZIE, IIenrt, one of the most illustrious names connected with
polite literature in Scotland. He was born at l']dinburgli in August 1745,
while the citizens were preparing, by ineflectual fortid cations, for the dreaded
attack of prince Charles Stuart, then collecting his army in the Highlands.'
The nativity of JMr 3Iackenzie was fixed by himself, at a public meeting which
he attended late in life, upon the venerable alley denominated Liberton's Wynd,
now removed iu order to admit of a bridge for the connexion of the High
Street with the southern districts of the city. His father was L)r Joshua, or (as
his name is spelt in the Scots Magazine for ISOO, where his death is recorded)
Josiah !;\Iackenzie, an eminent physician. Dr Mackenzie was, we believe, a na
live of Fortrose, upon the Moray frith, but had removed in early life to Edin-
burgh, where he acquired an extensive practice as a physician, and dislinguished
himself in the world of letters as author of a volume of Medical and Literary
Essays.^ The mother of the author of the Man of Feeling was 3Inrgaret,
eldest daughter of 3Ir Hose of Kilravock, a gentleman of ancient family in
Nairnshire.

After being edumted at the high school and university of Edinburgh, 3Ir
Mackenzie, by the advice of some friends of his father, was articled to Mr Inglis
of Redhall, in order to acquire a knowledge of the business of the Exchequer,
a law department, in which he was likely to have fewer competitors than in any
other in Scotland. To this, though not perfectly compatible with the literary
taste which he very early displayed, he applied with due diligence ; and, in
17G5, went to London to study the modes of English Exciiequer practice, which,
as well as the constitution of the court, wei'e similar in both countries. While
there, his talents induced a friend to solicit his remaining in London, and quali-
fying himself for the English bar. But the anxious wishes of his family that he
should reside with them, and the moderation of an unambitious mind, decided
his ret'-irn to Edinburgh ; where he became, first, partner, and afterwards suc-
cessor, to 3Ir Inglis, in the oflice of attorney for the crown.

His professional labour, however, did not prevent his attachment to literary
pursuits, ^^'hen in London, he sketched some part of his first and very popular
work. The Man of Feeling^ which was published in 1771, without his name,

1 Sir Walter Scott, in tlie memoir of l\Tr Mackenzie, prefixed to liis novels in Ballan-
tjne's Novelist's Lil)rar_v, states th;it his 1 irth tooiv place " on llio ssiine day on which prince
Charles landed." This, however, is incompatible with the fact of JNlr M. having been born
in August, as the prince landed on the 2atli of July. We may here also mention, that the
original source of the memoir itself was not, as implied by Sir Walter, a Paris edition of the
Man of Feeling, but a public ition, entitled " The British Gallery of Contemporary Portraits."

2" We have heard that some of Harlej's feelings were taken from those of the author
himself, when, at his first entrance on the dry and barbarous siudy of municipal law, he was
looking back, like Blackstone, on the land of the Muses, which he was conilemne.i to leave
behind him. It has also been said, that the fine sketch of Miss Walton was taken from the
heiress of a family of distinction, who ranked at that tinie high in the Scottish fashionable
world. But such surmises are little worth the tracing ; lor we beliive no original character
was ever composed by any author, without the idea liaving been previously suggested by

and was so much a favourite witli the public, as to become, a few years after, the
occasion of a remarkable fraud. A Mr Kccles of Bath, observing tlie continued
mystery as to the author, laid claim to the work as iiis own, pnd, in order to
support his pretensions, transcribed the whole with his own iiand, with an ap-
propriate allowance of blottings, interlineations, and corrections. So plausibly
Avas this claim put forward, and so periiuaciously was it adhered to, that Messrs
Cadell and Strachan, tiie publishers, found it necessary to undeceive the public
by a formal contradi<uion.

Thougli Mr Mackenzie preserved the anonymity of the Man of Feeling for
some years, (probably from prudential motives with reference to his business,)
he did not scruple to indulge, both before and after this period, in the literary
society with which the Scottish capital abounded. He informs us in his Life of
Home, that hi? was admitted in boyhood as a kind of page to the tea-drinltings
which tiien constituted the principal festive entertainment of the more polished
people in Edinburgh; and his early acquaintance witii H-jme, Smith, Robert-
son, Blair, and the rest of the literary galaxy, then in the ascendant, is evi-
denced from the same source. He was an early intimate of the ingenious blind
poet, Dr Blacklock ; and at the house of that gentleman, as we have been in-
formed by a survivor of the party, then a youthful boarder in the house, met
Dr Johnson and Boswcll, when the former was passing through Edinburgh on
his journey to the Hebrides. To quote the words of our informant — " Sevei'al
strangers had been invited on the occasion, (it was to breakfast ;) and, amongst
others, Dr Mackenzie, and his son, the late IMr Henry Mackenzie. These
gentlemen went away before Dr Johnson ; and Mrs Blacklock took the oppor-
tunity of pronouncing a panegyric upon the father and son, which she con-
cluded by saying, that though Dr Mackenzie had a large family, and was mar-
ried to a lady who was his son's step-motlier, nevertheless the son lived with
liis own wife and family in the same hoiise,^ and the greatest harmony obtained
among all the parties. On this Dr Johnson said, * That's wrong, madam ;'
and stated a reason, which it were as well to leave unchronicled. This
settled IMrs Blacklock's opinion of the doctor. Several years ago, on call-
ing to remembrance the particulars of this breakfast with Mr Henry IMac-
kenzie, he said there was another i-eason for Mrs Blacklock's dislike : she had
filled no less than twenty-two cups of tea to Dr Johnson at this breakfast ;
Avhich, I told Mr M., was too many, for Mrs Blacklock had appointed me to
number them, and I made them only nineteen !"^

Some years after the publication of the Man of Feeling, Mr Mackenzie
published his Man of the World, which was intended as a counterpart to the
other. In his former fiction, he imagined a hero constantly obedient to every

something which he had observed in nntiiro.*' — Sir Walter Scott, in Ballantyne^s Novelists'
Librari/,

3 Tlieir residence was in one of the floors of a tall house at the junction of the Cowgate and
Grassmarkt't, either above or below a floor occupied by Mrs Syme, the maternal grandmother
of Lord Brougham.

♦ Our correspondent's introduction to this anecdote may be deemed worthy of the read(!r's
notice. " 1 was twice in company with Dr Johnson, when he came to Edinburgh, on his
journey to the Hebrides. Being then a boarder in Or Blacklock's, m\' request to be present
at the breakfast given to Dr Johnson wiis readily granted. 'I he impression which I then
received of him can never be effaced ; but it was not of an unpleasant nature. He did not
appear to me to be that savage whicli some of my college companions had described him : on
the contrary, there was much suavity and kiiidnes-s in his manner and address to Dr Black-
lock. The blind poet generally stood in company, rocking from one side to another ; he luid
remarkably small white hands, which Dr Johnson held in his great paws during the most
part of the time they conversed together, caressing and stroking them, as he might have
done those of a pretty child." It is necessary to mention, that the great moralist was, by
Boswelis showing, in one of his gentlest moods on this ocKJsion.

III. 3 T

514 HENRY MACKENZIE.

omotion of his moral sense. In the Man of tlie Worlfl, he exhihitetl, on the
contrary, a i>erson rushing lioadh)ng into misery and ruin, and spreading misery
all around liim, by pursuing a happiness \virn;ii he expected to obtain in defi-
ance of the moral sense. His next production was Julia de Roubigne, a
novel in a scries of letters, designed, in its turn, as a counterpart to the 3Ian
of tlie World. " \ friend of the author," says Sir Walter Scott, " tlie cele-
brated Lord Karnes, we believe, had n;presented to Mr Mackenzie, in how
many poems, plays, and novels, the distress of the piece is made to turn upon
tiie designing viilany of some one of tiie dramatis p -rsonae. On considering
his observations, the author undertook, as a task fit for liis genius, the composi-
tion of a story, in which the characters should be all naturally virtuous, and
where the calamities of the catastrophe should arise, as frerjuently happens in
actual life, not out of schemes of premeditated viilany, but from the excess and
over-indulgence of passions and feelings in themselves blameless, nay, praise-
wcrlhy; but which, encouraged to a morbid excess, and coming into fatal and
fort;iitous concourse with each other, lead to the most disastrous consequences.
Mr 3Iackenzie executed his purpose; and as the plan fell in most happily witli
the views of a writer, whose object was less to describe external objects, than to
read a lesson to the human heart, he has produced one of the most heart-wring-
ing liistories which has ever been written. The very circumstances which pal-
liate the errors of the sufferers, in whose distress we interest ourselves, point out
to the reader that there is neither hope, remedy, nor revenge."

In 1777 or 1778, a number of young men of literary taste, chiefly connected
with the Scottish bar, formed themselves into an association for the prosecution
of their favourite studies, which came to bear the name of the Mirror Club.
An account of this fraternity, of its members, and of the way in which they
conducted their meetings, has already been given under the article " William
Craig," being derived from the oral information of Sir William Macleod Ban-
natyne, the latest survivor of the society.* Of the 3Iirror Club, Mr
Mackenzie was readily acknowledged chief; and, accordingly, when it was
resolved to issue their literary essays in a small weekly paper, resembling the
Spectator, he was appointed to undei-take the duties connected with the publi-
cation. The Mirror was commenced on the 23d of January, 1779, in the
shape of a small folio sheet, price three hr.lfpence, and terminated on the 27th
of 3Iay, 1780 ; having latterly been issued twice a-week. Of the one hundred
and ten papers to which the Mirror extended, forty-two were contributed by
Mr Mackenzie, including La Roche, and several others of the most admired of
his minor pieces. The sale, during the progress of the publication, never ex-

5 Sir William Maclecd Bannatyne was bom, January 26, 1743, O. S., and died
November 30, 1833, in his ninety-first year. He was the son of Mr Roderick Macleod,
W. S., whose sister, lady Clanranald, for protecting Prince Charles in his \vander-
mgs, was made prisoner, and kept for some time in confinement in Londoii. The
" young Clanranald," who led out his clan in J745, and took tlie town of Dundee, was
therefore cousin-merman to Sir William. The venemble subject of this note, passed advo-
cate, January 22, 1765, and v.as the intimate friend of the first lord Melville, when at the
bar, and of several other eminent persons in that profession, with whom he used to meet re-
gularly for mutual improvement in forensic and legal business. His contributions to the
Mirror were five papers, which are pointed out in the latest edition. On the resignation of lord
Swinton, in 1799, he was raised to the bench, where he performed the duties of a judge till
1S23. On his retirement, he received the honour of knighthood. The remainder of his life
was spent by Sir William in a cheerful and hospitable leisure at his residence in Whiteford
House, near the bottom of the Canongate, where he was for many years the only surviving spe-
cimen of the old town gentleman. Sir William was full of anecdote and information respecting
the political history of Scotland during the last century, and showed, in conversation with the
prisent writer, ,'is intimate an acquainttmce, and as lively a recollection of the secrets of the
Walpole and Bute administrations, as could be displayed' by any living man, respecting that
of .Mr Canning or the Duke of Wellington.

HENRY MACKENZIE. 515

ceeded four hundred copies ; but this was more than sufficient to brino- it under
the notice of a wide and influential circle, and to found the reputation it
has since enjoyed. When re-publislied in duodecimo volumes, a considerable
sum was realized from tlie copyright, out of which the proprietors presented
.flOO to tlie Orphan Hospital, and treated themselves to a hogshead of claret
to be drunk at tlieir ensuing meetings.

The Lounger, a work of exactly tlie same character, was commenced by the
same writers, and under the same editorship, February 6, I7S5, and continued
once a-week till the 6tii of January, 1787 ; out of the hundred and one papers
to which it extended, fifty-seven are the production of 3Iackenzie. One of the
latter papers the editor devoted to a generous and adventurous critique on the
poems of Burns, which were just then publislie.d, and had not yet been ap-
proven by the public voice. As migljt have been expected, Mackenzie dwells
most fondly on the Addresses to the Mouse and the Mountain Daisy, which
struck a tone nearest to that prevailing in his own mind.

On the institution of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, Mr Mackenzie became
one of the members ; and amongst the papers with wiiich lie enriched its trans-
actions, are an elegant tribute to the memory of his friend lord Abercromby,
and a memoir on German tragedy ; the latter of which bestows high praise on
the Emelia Galotti of Lessing, and on tlie Robbers by Schiller. For this
memoir he had procured tlie materials tlirougii tlie medium of a French \vork ;
but desiring afterwards to enjoy the native beauties of German poetry, he took
lessons in German from a Dr Okely, who was at that time studying medicine in
Edinburgh, The fruits of his attention to German literature appeared furtlier in
the year 1791, in a small volume, containing translations of the Set of Horses
by Lessing, and of two or three other dramatic pieces. But the most remarkable
result of his studies in this department, was certainly the effect which his me-
moir produced on the mind of Sir Walter Scott, then a very young man. It
gave a direction to tlie genius of this illustrious person, at a time \vhen it was
groping about for something on whicli to employ itself ; and, harmonizing with
the native legendary lore with which he was already replete, decided, perhaps,
that Scott Avas to strike out a new path for himself, instead of following tamely
on in the already beaten v.alks of literature.

Mr Mackenzie was also an original member of the Highland Society ; and
by him were published the volumes of their Transactions^ to which he pre-
lixed an account of the institution, and tlie principal proceedings of tlie so-
ciety. In these Transactions is also to be found his view of the controversy
respecting Ossian's Poems, and an interesting account of Gaelic poetry.

Among Mackenzie's compositions are several political pamphlets, all upon the
Tory side ; the first being " An Account of the Proceedings of the Parliament of
1784," in which he strongly defended the views of his friend, Mr Henry
Dundas, afterwards viscount Melville. At the time of the French Revolution,
he wrote various tracts, with the design of counteracting the progress of liberal
principles in his own country. These services, with the friendsliip of Lord
Melville and Mr George Rose, obtained for him, in 1804, the lucrative ofhce
of comptroller of taxes for Scotland, which he held till his death.

In 1793, Mr Mackenzie wrote the life of Dr Blacklock, prefixed to a quarto
edition of the blind poet's works, which was published for the benefit of his
widow. Mr 3Iackeiizie's intimacy with Blacklock, gave him an opportunity of
knowing the habits of his life, the bent of his mind, and the feelings peculiar to
the privation of sight under which Blacklock laboured. In IS 12, he read to
the Royal Society his Life of John Home, which was some years after prefixed to
an edition of that poet's works, and also published separately. At the time he

516 HENRY MACKENZIE.

read lliis piper to tlie Society, lie also laid before tlieni, in connexion with it,
some Crilical Essai/.i,v.\uKi\y relative to dramatic poetry, uliicli iiavc not been
piiblislied.

IMadceiizie was liiniself a dianialic ^vritor, tlioiiqli not a successful one. A
tragedy, written by biin in early life, under llie name of 'J'/ie Spanish Father,
was never represented ; in conse<pien(;e of .Mr (iarrick's opinion, that tlie ♦catas-
trophe Avas of too shocking a kind for the niodern stage ; although he owned the
merit of the pnetry, llie force of some of the scenes, and the scope for line act-
ing in the character of Aiplionso, tlie leading person in the drama. In 1773, IMi"
IMackenzie produced a tragedy under the title of Tlie Prince of Tunis, which,
with .Airs. Yates as its lieroine, was performed with applause for six nights, at
the Edinburgh theatre. Of three other dramatic pieces by IMr IMackenzie, the
next was The Shipwreck, or Fatal Curiosity, whicii might be described as an
altei'atiim of Lilly's play under the latter of the two names. The comedies en-
tilled the Force of Fashion, and Tlie White Hypocrite, both of which were
unsuccessful, complete the list. Mr IMackenzie's grand deficiency as a dramatic
author was his inability to draw forcible characters. His novels and tales charm
by other means altogether; but in the drama, striking characters, and a skilful
management of them, are indispensable.

In 1803, ^Mackenzie publisiied a complete edition of liis works in eight vo-
lumes. From that period, and indeed from one considerably antecedent to it,
lie might be said to have abandoned literature, though, to use his own affecting
imnge, as employed at one of the meetings of the Koyal Society, the old stump
would still occasionally send forth a few green shoots. The patronage of the
government was unfortunately extended in a somewhat improper shape, in ns
far as the office bestowed upon him, though lucrative, required unremitting per-
sonal labour. lie was thus unable, even if he had been willing, to cultivate
literature to any considerable pirpose. Such leisure as lie possessed, he spent
chiefly in healthy recreations — in shooting, particularly, and angling, to which
he was devotedly attached, and the former of which lie had practised in early
life, on the ground now occupied by the New Town of Edinbingh. He thus
protracted his days to a healthy old age, until he finally stood amidst his fellow
men, like Noah amongst his descendants, a sole-surviving specimen of a race of
literary men, alljof ^\hom had long been consigned to the dust. His recolleo
tions of the great men who lived in his youth, were most distinct and interest-
ing; but it is to be regretted, that with the exception of what he has given in
Lis Life of Home, he Jiever could be prevailed upon to commit them to paper.
The sole physi(!al failing of his latter years was a slight deafness, which, how-
ever, seemed oi/ly to give him the greater power of speech, as, by a natural
deception of the mind, he probibly conceived, that what was inaudible to him-
self, was so, or ran the risk of being so, to his hearers also. At length, after a
comparatively brief period of decline, he died, January 1 i, 1831, in the eighty-
sixth year of his age.

Ey his wife, IMiss Penuel Grant, daughter of Sir Ludovick Grant, of Grant,
Bart., and lady Mary Ogihie, fllr 31ackenzie had eleven children, the eldest of
whom "was a jud^e of the courts of session and justiciary — and a younger, Me
Holt Mackenzie, one of the members of the privy council.

As a novelist and essayist, Mai;kenzie still ranks in the first class, though,
perhaps, rather by a reflection of his former fame, than through any active or
sincere appreciation of his writings by the present generation. It is, perhaps,
unfair to judge of the intellectual efforts of an author, by any other age than his
own, seeing that, as Joluiion well remarks, the most of men content themselves
if they only can, in some degree, outstrip their predecessors. Yet it is impos-

SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 517

sible to overlook tliat Mr Mackenzie's works are net of a kind to retain the
highest degree of popularity beyond the age in which they were written, and that
they liave been surpassed by n)any later writers, who, from the greater con)pelition
which they had to contend witli, have not attained nearly so high an eminence.
Mr ]\Iackenzie lived in an age, when to attain certain proprieties in language,
was looked upon as almost the summum bonum of authorship of any kind: men
had not yet become sufficiently at ease about the vehicle of their thoughts, to
direct their attention solely, or even chiefly, as they do now, to the sense wliich
is conveyed. Hence, we find, in his works, a faultless sweetness and delicacy
of diclion, which, however, is only a mannerism, tliough not exactly that of an
individual — while the whole scenery, incidents, and cliaracters, instead of being
taken directly from nature, are little more than a vivification of what have
been tlie stock of fictitious writers from the commencement of the art. The
real life with which i\lr IMackenzie was acquainted, must have been, in a great
measure, the same from \\hich Sir Walter Scott afterwards fashioned his immor-
tal narratives ; but this, to Mackenzie, fashion had forbidden, and he had not the
force to break tlirough the rules of that tawdry deity. He was content to take
all his materials at second-hand, to grapple only with that literary human nature,
which, like certain dresses on the stage, runs through all books from perhaps
some successful model of antiquity, without ever gathering a spark of the genu-
ine article of the living world in its course. Dexterously, we allow, is the
mosaic composed, and beautiful is the crust of sentiment in which it was present-
ed. As works of art, the novels and minor stories of Mackenzie are exquisite ;
but, nevertheless, they could never have attained so great a celebrity, if they
had not appeared at a time Avhen mere art was chiefly regarded by the public,
and when, as yet, men esteemed nature as something not exactly fitted for draw-
ing-room intercourse.

While we thus, with great deference, express an unfavourable opinion of his
merits as a writer of fiction, we allow to I\lr Mackenzie the highest credit as a
moralist, and also as a composer of language, which is to be esteemed as no
mean accomplishment, and depends more upon native gifts than is generally
supposed. 'I'he moral sense of IMackenzie was in the highest degree pure,
tender, and graceful ; and has imbued his writings with a character for which
they can hardly ever fail to be esteemed. " The principal object of all his
novels," says Sir Walter Scott, " has been to reach and sustain a tone of moral
pathos, by representing the effect of incidents, whether important or trifling,
upon the human mind, and especially on those which were not only just, hon-
ourable, and intelligent, but so framed as to be responsive to those finer feelings
to wliich ordinary hearts are callous." The sweet collocation of the words in
which ail these efforts are made, combines to render the effect, to an extraor-
dinary degree, soothing, refining, and agreeable.

MACKINTOSH, (Sir) James, a distinguished historian and statesman, was
born on the 24th of October, I7(i5, at Alldowrie, the residence of his grand-
mother, situated on the banks of Loch Ness, about seven miles from Inverness.
He was in his own person, being the eldest of three children, the representative
of the Killochy branch of ilie family of Mackintosh, (a property Avhich they ac-
quired in the fiileenth century,) and was the eleventh in descent from Allan,
third son of IMalcolm, the tenth chief of the clan, who was one of the leaders
in the celebrated battle of Ilarlaw, fought in 1411. The lairds of Killochy, as
the eldest branch of liie Mackintoshes extant, were always <;aplains of the watch
(a feudal military api»ointmeiii) to the chief of the clan, and acted in this capa-
city in all the hostilities in \vhich he happened to be engaged.

John Mackintosh of Killochy, father to the subject of this memoir, held a

518 SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH.

commission for several years ii* Campliell's llii^lilaiiders, and was wounded in
the Seven Years' War in (jeiinany. lie wns afierwnrds a chaplain in tlie G8th
regiment, and served Avilii this corps for a consider.ihle time in (jibraltar, and
other places abroad. He was a man of amiable manners and disposition, and
much esteemed by all who knew him, amongst the most remarkaliie of whom
was major iMercer, the author of a volume of pleasing poetry, who thus speaks
of him, sixteen years after his death, in a letter to lord (jlenbervie : — " We
lived togetlier," says this gentleman, " for two years in the same tent, without
one unkind word or look. Jolni Mackintosh was one of tlie liveliest, most
good-humoured, gallant lads I ever knew."

Sir James's mother, 3Iarjory Tvlacgilivray, who died at Gibraltar, while he was
yet a child, was a daughter of Alexander 3Iacgilivray, Esq. of the state of
Carolina.

From a very early period of life the subject of this memoir discovered a sin-
gular propensity to reading ; a passion which his fatiier, who had been himself
accustomed to an active life, and who desired that his son's pursuits shouUl be
of a more stirring kind, endeavoured, but in vain, to subdue. Little foreseeing
the eminence to which this studious disposition was one day to raise him, he
twitted the boy with his sedentary and monotonous life; telling him, with the
view of rousing him to an interest in what was passing around him, and of
directing his inclinations into a livelier cliannel, that lie would become a mere
pedant. His attachment to books, however, was too deeply seated in his nature
to be removed by such sarcasms, and liis father's opposition had the efiect only
of driving him to do that by stealtli and in secret which lie had done before
openly. He rose at midnight when tiie family had retired to rest, lighted his
candle, and pursued his solitary studies unmolested till the approach of
morning.

In consequence of his father's being much abroad, the care of young Mac-
kintosh devolved chiefly upon his grandmother, a woman of superior endow-
ments, and to whom he was in a great measure indebted for the early discipline
which his mind received. When of sufficient age to leave home, the future
historian and statesman Avas sent to the academy of Fortrose, then tiie most dis-
tinguished seminary in that part of Scotland, and placed under the tuition of
Mr Stalker, one of the masters. Here young Mackintosh rapidly acquired,
and continued to maintain, a marked superiority over all his schoolfellows for
ibility and application. In this remote corner of the world, and at the early
period of his life, his future fame was shadowed forth in a local reputation which
gave to "Jamie Blackintosh" the character of a prodigy of learning and
talent. His master entertained a similar opinion of him, and, as a proof of his
confidence in his acquirements and abilities, devolved upon him, while yet a
mere boy, nearly the entire management of the classical department of the
Bchool. At this period, too, he began to discover that talent for oratory and
de<;lamation by which he so eminently disiinguished himself in after life. Ihe
eloquence, however, on which latterly ** listening senates hung" was at this
period poured out from the top of the grave stones in the churchyard of Fort-
rose, on which the young orator used to mount in moments of enthusiasm, and
declaim from Shakspeare and 31ilton to a wondering, gaping, and admiring au-
dience of his schoolfellows. The political opinions which distinguished 3Ir
Mackintosh throughout his life were also very early formed. He was said by
a lady, a relative of his own, to have been " born a whig," but he certainly was
not this by inheritance, for his friends and connexions were all staunch tories
and Jacobites, and they did not view without regret and sorrow the apostasy of
this scion of the house of Killochy. Ihe youthful fancy, however, of the young

SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 519

heir to that .venerable title had been captivated by the fluency and sentimental
descriptions of the democracies of Greece and Rome, Mhich he found in his
favourite classics, and he formed opinions of his own on the subject of political
freedom with but little reference to the creed of his family. Pym, Hampden,
and Algernon Sidney, were the objects of his idolatry : their example excited
his imagination, and their writings imbued him with those political principles
which " grew with his growth, and strengthened with his strength." The
Utopian notions, however, which so often mislead men of weak minds, had no
such effect on Mr Mackintosh. He saw the necessity of sobering down all such
fanciful theories to the level of real life, and of pruning and adapting them to
the passions and weaknesses of human nature. He was above all impressed with
the necessity of circumscribing his ideas of political freedom, uhicli had before
run wild, by the great outlines of the British constitution. In his own impres-
sive and fiourative lansfuaoe, he desired, that the liffht which might break in on
England should be, " thi'ough well-contrived, and well-disposed windows, and
not through flaws and breaches, the yawning chasms of our ruin."

The singular talents which young Mackintosh discovered while at Fortrosc,
and the extraordinary proficiency wliich he made in his studies, determined his
friends to bestow upon him a university education, and he was accordingly,
through the kindness of a relative, placed in King's college, Aberdeen, under
Mr Leslie. He here also attended the lectures of James Dunbar, LL.D., pro-
fessor of moral philosopiiy, and Mr William Ogilvie, professor of humanity.

While at Aberdeen he formed an acquaintance and intimacy with the late
Rev. Robert Hall of Leicester, whi(;h continued throughout their future lives.
They weie inseparable while at college, and a biogi-aphical sketch of his
deceased friend was amongst the last literary efforts of Mackintosh. It was in-
tended for the new edition of Mr Hall's works published by Dr Gregory.

Having acquired a complete knowledge of Greek and mathematics, Blr
Mackintosh, who had now determined on adopting the medical profession, re-
paired to Kdinburgh to complete his education at the university of that city.
Here he attended the lectures of Dr Culien and professor Black, preparatory to
his taking the degree of doctor of medicine, and applying himself to regular
practice in that pj-ofession. He also joined tlie well known literary club called
the Speculative Society, instituted in 1764, in which he became a keen debat-
er, and distinguished himself by the boldness of his opinions, and the ability
and eloquence with which he expounded and maintained them. Amongst his
associates at tliis period were Mr, afterwards lord Gillies, Mr, afterwards lorci
Moncrieff, and the late carl of Lauderdale, and amongst the number of his friends,
the illustrious author of the "Wealth of Nations," who early discovered, and
warmly encouraged, the proaiising talents of the young orator.

It \vas at tins period that Mr Blackintosh's mind became seriously directed to-
wards general literature, and to moral, political, and speculative philosophy, the
result of his studying, which he did with the most serious attention, the works
of Robertson, Smith, Clark, and Brown, who were then in the zenith of their
fame. Having received his medical degree, althoug-h he had now determined
to abandon that profession, to which, indeed, he had never been attached, he
set out for London in the year 1787, in company with the eldest son of Sir
James Grant of Grant, who had, about this period, become knight of the shire
for the county of Moray. Undetermined as to his future pursuits, he lingered
idly about the metropolis for some time, made a short visit to the continent, and
filially returned to study law, having fairly parted with physic. In the year fol-
lowing, viz. 1788, he succeeded, by the death of his father, to the estate of Kil-
lochy, now worth about £900 per annum. Method and economy, however, were

520 SIR JAl^IES MACKINTOSH.

iiol, at tliis peiioil, aiiKmgst tlic iiimiber of 31r 3Ia«;kiiit()sirs virtues, and the
consequence was, tliat notwitlisUnding this handsome accession to liis means,
lie soon loiind hiiiiself involved in peciinini-y dilhciillics of so extensive and ur-
gent a kind as compelled him to part wilh his patrimonial inlieritancc for the
very inadequate sum of JC'JOOO. Still but loosely aitaclied to jiis professional
studies, he now permitted his attention to be diverted to the scien<;e of politics,
and in llb'J, published a pamphlet on liie Regency Question, in which he as-
serted the constitutional right of the heir-apparent to suj.ply his father's place
in tlie circumstances which then gave rise to the discussion. Tilt's theory, how-
ever, prevailed, and thus the first published literary essay of 3Ir ."Mackintosh
Mas found upon the losing side. Hitherto he had attracted but little public
notice, and had been foiled in his attempt to obtain political celebrity. Both
of these, however, were awaiting him, and on no distant day. In 1791, he
published his celebrated work entitled " Vindicias (Jallicae, or a defence of the
French Revolution and its English admirers, against the accusations of the
right honourable Edmund Burke ; including some strictures on the late pro-
duction of Monsieur de Calonne," an octavo volume of 379 pages. This work
he sold, while yet but partly uritlen, for a trifling sum ; but the merits and
success of the production induced the publisher to depart from tlie original con-
tract, and to give its author triple the sum stipulated for. The first two editions
were disposed of within four months ; and a third appeared in the end of Au-
gust, 1791. The extraordinary talent uliich this work displayed, procured Mr
Mackintosh an extensive and illustrious circle of acquaintances, in which Avere,
amongst others, Sheridan, Grey, Whitbread, Fox, the duke of Bedford, and
his celebrated antagonist, Burke himself, mIio soon after the appearance of the
" Vindiciaj," opened a correspondence withliim, and it is said succeeded in chang-
ing and modifying to a considerable extent many of the opinions of its author.

Mr 31ackintosh now (1792) entered himself as a student of Lincoln's Inn,
and in 1795, was called to the bar by that society ; but did not, for several
years thereafter, attain any considerable practice. He attended the courts
however, and went the Norfolk circuits, but without much improvement to his
business.

With the view of enlarging his income, which the want of professional suc-
cess kept within narrow bounds, he, in the year 1793, announced his intention
of delivering a course of lectures on " The Law of Nature and of Nations." A
suspicion of his motives in a political point of view raised some obstacles in the
way of this attempt ; but these being effectually removed by his Introductory
Lecture, which was printed under the title of " A Discourse on the Law of Na-
ture and of Nations,'' and which drew the most flattering eulogiums from both
Mr Fox and Mr Pitt, he was permitted to proceed, and delivered his course in
Lincoln's Inn hall to a large and respectable audience. These "Discourses"
are allowed by all to comprehend nearly every excellency which human sagacity
and human intelligence can bring to bear on such subjects ; profundity and
felicity of thought, high intellectual power, and chaste and elegant language.

After the general election of 1802, Mr iMackintosh was retained as counsel
in several controverted cases, and acquitted himself with great ability before
committees of the house of commons, but still without attracting much public
notice as a barrister. Next year, however, a case was put into his hands which
at once gained him the highest professional reputation. This was the defence
of M. Peltier, editor of " The Ambigu," a French journal, for a libel against
Bonaparte, then fust consul of France, and at that time at jieace with this coun-
try. 'Ihe trial took place on the 21st of February, 1803, in the court of King's
Bench. Mr Mackintosh stood alone and unsupported in the defence of Peltier,

SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 521

against an array of talent on the opposite side which would have appalled any
man of less resolution, and which nothing but a strong confidence in his own
abilities and intellectual researches could have enabled him to encounter. His
principal antagonists in this case were Mr Perceval , at that period attorney general,
afterwards prime minister, and Mr Abbot, afterwards lord Tenterden. Mr Mac-
kintosh's pleading on tills celebrated trial was one of the most masterly efforts of
the kind whidi had ever been witnessed. It was one continued strain of powerful,
impressive and classical eloquence. His whole energies were concentrated in
the etlbrt, and the whole stores of his vast and retentive memory, and of his
elegant and felicitous fancy were brougiit forth and mingled with the current of
his eloquence, imparting to it a richness and splendour of tint, which great
and original minds only can produce. His speech on this occasion was de-
clared by lord Ellenborough to be " the most eloquent oration he had ever
heai'd in ^Vestminster Hall." A still more flattering compliment was paid the
orator by Madame de Stael, who translated the speech into French, in which
shape it was circulated throughout Europe.

Mr Mackintosh was at tiiis period professor of general polity and the laws
in the East India college at Hertford, an appointment wliich the reputation he
had acquired from his "Lectures on the Law of Nature and of Nations" had
obtained for him; but the splendid display of talent which he had exhibited in
his defence of Peltier procured him much more powerful patronage, and opened
up to liim prospects more commensurate to his deserts. He now attracted the
notice of the government, by which he was considered a person who might be
profitably employed in some ofiicial situation connected with the state, and he
was accordingly offered in tlie same year the recordership. of Bombay. This
appointment he accepted, though not without some hesitation, and before setting
out he received the honour of knighthood. He remained in Bombay for seven
years, discharging the grave and important duties of a chief judge with an upright-
ness, integrity, and ability unsurpassed in the annals of criminal jurisprudence.
Faithful to the high trust reposed in him, he yet tempered tlie severity of the laws
by mingling, whenever it was possible to do so, some drops of mercy in the cups of
bitterness, which duty to his country and to society compelled him to administer.
A well judged and discriminate lenity, that lenity which makes the laws not an
object of contempt and ridicule, but of love and reverence, and which leaves no
room for grudge or reflection at their awards, formed one of the most prominent
and god-like features in the judicial character of Sir James Mackintosh. A re-
markable and beautiful instance of his application of this principle occurred
during his recordership in Bombay. Two young natives were brought before
him, tried, and convicted of having conspired to waylay and murder a Dutch-
man from Cochin. The penalty attached to the crime by the law was death.
Some circumstances in the case, liowever, afforded Sir James an opportunity of
extending mercy to them so far as to save their lives, and he availed himself of
it. The prisoners were in the mean time withdrawn from the bar, and during
tills interval came to a resolution, between themselves, of murdering their judge
when they should be called up to receive, as they expected, sentence of death,
and for this purpose they provided themselves with knives. The design of the
ruftians was most providentially discovered in suflicient time to prevent its being
carried into eflect. The sequel, a story worthy of the best days of Rome, and
of the noblest and best of her citizens, will be best told in the language which
Sir James himself addressed to the culprits, when they were brought again be-
fore him to receive the commuted sentence which his lenity had procured for
them. " I was employed," he said, addressing the prisoners, " in considering
the mildest judgment which public duty would allow me to pronounce on you,

SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH.

vlion I learned from uiuloubted autliority, that your tliou;,'hts towards me were
not of the same nature. I was credibly, or rather certainly informed, that you
had admitted into your minds the desperate project of destroying your own lives
at the bar where you stand, and of signalizing your suicide by the previous de-
struction of at least one of your judges. If that murderous project had been
executed, I should have been the first British magistrate who ever stained with
his blood the bench on Avhich he sat to administer justice. But I could never
have died better than in the discharge of my duty. When I accepted the ofHce of
a minister of justice, I knew that I ought to despise unpopularity and slander,
and even death itself. Thank God I do despise them ; and I solemnly assure
you, that I feel more compassion for the gloomy and desperate state of mind
which could harbour such projects, than resentment for that part of them which
was directed against myself. I should consider myself as indelibly disgraced,
if a tliought of your projects against me were to influence my judgment." He
then passed sentence on them to be imprisoned for twelve months, the exact
amount of punishment he had originally proposed.

During his residence in India, Sir James contributed a number of valuable
papers to the " Asiatic Register," and supplied the late Dr Buchanan Avith a
large quantity of material for liis voluminous works on India. His return to
I'ngland was hastened by a severe illness. He left Bombay in November 1811,
retiring fi-oni the Recordership with a pension of £1200 per annum.

In July 1813, a little more than twelvemonths after his arrival in his native
country, he was elected, through the interest of lord Cawdor, as representative
for the county of Nairn ; an occasion which called him to visit the friends and
the scenes of his youth; and no man could enjoy the happiness, or be more
feelingly alive to all the romantic, endearing, and delightful recollections and
associations, which the contemplation of objects familiar to our boyhood, and
from which we have been long absent, is calculated to produce. He was,
as all men of noble and generous minds are, an enthusiastic admirer of
the external beauties of nature, and his native district afforded ample induce- •
ments to the indulgence of this pure and exalted taste ; a taste \\hich he him-
self has beautifully said, " preserves those habits of reflection and sensibility
which receive so many rude shocks in the coarse contests of the world."

In 1818, he was elected for Knaresborough in Yorkshire, through the in-
fluence of the duke of Devonshire, and was re-chosen at the subsequent elections
of 1820, 1826, 1830, and 1831. He was also elected Lord Rector of the uni-
versity of Glasgow in 1822, and again in 1823. Sir James was now become a
person to whom a national importance and consideration were attached, one of
the marked and elevated charactei'S of the country, who had acquired a conven-
tional right from the soundness and capacity of his judgment, and the exlraor-
dinai-y splendour of his abilities, to take an active and prominent part in the
management of her affairs, and a conviction of this truth prevailing in those
high quarters where it could be acted upon, he Mas appointed in 1828, one
of his majesty's privy council, and on the formation of the Earl Grey adminis-
tration in 1830, he was made on the 1st December a commissioner for Indian
affairs.

In parliament Sir James took a prominent part in all questions connected with
foreign policy, and international law; but more especially distinguished himself
in the discussions on the alien bill, the liberty of the press, religious toleration,
the slave trade, the settlement of Greece, reform in parliament, and on the right
of our colonies, to self-government But a question still more congenial to his
philanthropic disposition and benevolent nature, than any of these, devolved
upon him on the death of Sir Samuel Romilly. This was the consideration of

SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 523

the best means of amending the ciiminal law — a code which he had always
thought much too sanguinary, and, therefoi-e, but ill adapted for the ends to
which all laws ought to be directed. He thought with Goldsmith, that " a man
might see his last crime without dying for it ; and that very little blood would
serve to cement our security."'

His speeches on this subject are full of the most enlightened and statesmanlike
views, and combine, in a wonderful degree, all the beauties of eloquence with
profound reasoning, and just and noble sentiment. So beautiful, indeed, are
his orations on this subject, and so powerful the arguments which form their
frame-work, that it excites a feeling of surprise in the reader to find, that they
did not instantly accomplish the object for whose attainment they were con-
structed. They appear in-esistible, and seem to comprehend every argument
on the point at issue which human ingenuity could devise. As chairman of a
committee of the house of commons, on the criminal law, in 1819, Sir James
Mackintosh introduced six bills in the course of May, 1820. But three only
of these were at the time persisted in, and in the commutation of punishment
bill, seven of the eleven offences which it was intended to commute, were ex-
punged in the house of lords, four only being suffered to remain.

Sir James Mackintosh, as already noticed, was in politics a whig, and all his
votes and speeches in parliament were in favour of the opinions and sentiments
of that party ; but he was, perhaps, one of the most moderate and tolerant poli-
ticians that ever existed, as the natural mildness and benevolence of his disposi-
tion never failed to mingle largely in whatever character he assumed, whether
author, statesman, or judge. In all he was the same — amiable, forbearing, and
conciliating.

One of Sir James's last speeches in parliament, was on the bill relating to
anatomical dissections, in which he strenuously advocated the propriety, nay,
necessity of affording to the profession every facility for obtaining subjects for
the dissecting table. His speech, on this occasion, was remarkable for all that
elegance of diction, and cogency of argument which distinguished his rheto-
rical effusions; and indicated, besides, a love of science on the part of the speaker,
and a zeal for the welfare of mankind, worthy of a great statesman and of a
great philanthropist.

Great as Sir James Mackintosh certainly was as an orator, he was yet greater
as an author, and the fame which he derives from the latter character, stands
on still higher and firmer ground than that on which the former is rested. Ihe
Vindicise Gallicaj, published when the author was only in the twenty-sixth year
of his age, is an eloquent and powerful political treatise. On all the grand points
on which he meets Mr Burke — the expediency and necessity of a revolution in
France — the character of the national assembly — the popular excesses which at-
tended the revolution, &c. — it may be safely assumed, that he obtains the mas-
tery in truth and cogency of argument. It ought to be remembered, that the
French Revolution had not, at this time, put on its Avorst aspect. The great
change which had taken place, promised to regenerate France, and to renovate
civil society ; and Sir James Mackintosh, like his master Fox, in his exultation
at the dawn of so bright a prospect, could not foresee that it would terminate in
bloodshed and tyranny.

Both works are written in a style too ornate and artificial. The rich and
fertile genius of Burke, and his vast and multifarious stores of learning, crowd-
ed his pages with illustrations from all sources — from history, philosophy, and

poetry and he avp.s not over-solicitous as to their being apposite and correct.

On the other hand. Sir James Mackintosh, fresh from his books and burning
with zeal, was also ambitious of display, and chastity and purity of diction were

524 SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH.

neglected by both. Siidi a contest, liowevcr — so spleiitlid a specimen of the lite-
rary duello, on BO nmgnificent an arena, may lutt again occin* for a considerable
length of time. The defence of Peltier is also a masterly jiorformance ; but the
dissertation in the l'"n<;ycloj»<T.dia Ihitannica, and liis life of Sir 'i homas 3Iore,
in Ur Lardner's (yclopaidia, are perhajis the most finisiied of ihe acitnowledged
productions of Sir James IMackintosh. The two volumes of his abridged History
of I'!ngland, serve rather to show the views he took of certain j)iiint8 of lOnglish
liistory, and the philosopiiy he was able to bring to the task, with his habitual
carelessness in minor details, than his talent at composing a connecLe<l, conse-
cutive work. 'I'hese two little volumes,' however, contain some striking passages
and disquisitions. But in the opinion of Mv Campbell, who knew Sir James
3Iackintosh intimately, they were merely the expansion of the prefatory matter
which he intended for a great historical work on the afihirs of England since
the Kevolution, and which he had contemplated for several years, and in part
written, but was too much impeded in his progress, both by his parliamentary
duties and the infirm state of his health, to bring to a conclusion. His labours
were, nevertheless, given to the world in 1834, in the form of a disquisition on
the causes of the Revolution of 1688, exemplifying in its style an excellent dogma
of the author, that history ought to be written with feeling, but without jiassion.
He also contributed to the Edinburgh Review in its earlier days. An edition of
his works, in three volumes, (with the exception of the History of England,)
was published in 1S4G, containing his ethical and historical dissertations, a num-
ber of essays on political and literary topics, reviews, and other contributions to
periodical publications, and speeches on a variety of subjects delivered at the
bar and in parliament.

After what has been said of Sir James IMackintosh's public life and character,
it is almost unnecessary to add, that in private life, he displayed all the domestic
virtues, and all the better qualities of human nature. He was mild, benevolent,
generous, humane, and unaffected. Keady at all times to succour the unfortun-
ate and the distressed, he bestowed on all who sought it, that assistance which
their cii-cumstances required; whether it was his time, his purse, or his advice ;
and to all three, if desired, the applicant was welcome. The most pleasing
characteristic of Hume — that almost infantine simplicity which his friends re-
marked in his intercourse with them — mingled also in the character of Mack-
intosh, contrasting finely with its nobler parts. His conversational powers
were of the very first order, and never failed to delight all who had the good
fortune to enjoy his society. His person was well formed, and above the mid-
dle stature. His countenance was intelligent, and exhibited a pleasing coni-
poimd of grave and gay expression, indicative of a readiness to sympathize with
either of these feelings, as chance might direct their appeals to him.

Sir James was in an indifferent state of health for some time previous to his
death, but that melancholy event was finally brought on by an accident. AVhiie
at dinner, about the beginning of IMarch, 1832, a portion of the breast of a
fowl, with a fragment of bone in it, which he had attempted to swallow, stuck
in his throat, and, though afterwards extracted without producing any imme-
diate serious consequences, the accident completely unsettled his general health.
His debility from that hour daily increased, till the 30th of May, when he died
in the sixty-sixth year of his age, at his house in Langham Place, having anti-
cipated and met the hour of his dissolution with a firmness and resignation
worthy of his past life. He was buried at Hampstead.

Sir James Mackintosh was twice married ; first in 1789, to Bliss Catherine

1 The greater part of a third volume waswritti.n by Sir James: lie breaks ofl'at the era
cf the Bartholomew massjicre.

DR. JAMES MACKNIGHT. 525

Stewart of Gerrard Street, Solio, sister to the Messieurs Stewart, formerly pro-
prietors of tlie " Morning- Post," by whom he had issue a son, who died in in-
fancy, and three daughters — viz., Mary, married to Claudius James Rich,
Esq., of Bombay — Maitland, married to W. Erskine, Esq. — and Catherine, mar-
ried to Sir W. Wiseman, Bart. Mrs JIackintosh died in 1797 He was after-
wards married to Catharine, daughter of J. B. Allen, Esq. of Cressella, in
Pembrokesiiire. By this lady, who died at Chesne, near Genoa, on the 6th
May, 1830, he had one son and a daughter; viz., Robert Mackintosh, Esq.,
B.A., fellow of New College, Oxford; and Frances, married to H. Wedgewood,
Esq., Staftbrdshire.

MACKNIGHT, (Dr) James, a learned scriptural commentator, was born on
the 17th of September, 1721. His father, Mr William Macknight, minister at
Irvine, was a native of Ireland, where his ancestors, descended from the family
of M'Naughtane, in the Highlands of Scotland, had resided for more than a
century. Mr William Macknight early displayed very popular talents as a
preacher; and having, it is said, accidentally officiated in the church of Irvine,
sometime after the death of the former incumbent, he gave* so much satisfaction
/() the hearers, that, in consequence of a general wish expressed by the parish-
ioners to the patron, he was soon appointed to supply the vacant charge. In
this situation he continued during life, universally esteemed for genuine piety,
purity of morals, and integrity of character.

Mr James Macknight, the subject of this memoir, received the rudiments of
education at the school of Irvine; and about the age of fourteen, was sent to the
university of Glasgow, where he studied with great approbation from his teach-
ers, on account of his diligence and proficiency. The notes he then took from
the lectures on logic and moral philosophy, before he was sixteen, still remain
among- his papers, and afford remarkable indications of the same acuteness and
soundness of judgment, which afterwards characterized his theological writings.

Having completed the usual course of academical discipline at Glasgow, Mr
Macknight went to Leyden, in order to prosecute the study of theology, to
which he had shown an early attachment. While he remained in Holland, he had
an opportunity of procuring many valuable books, written by foreign divines,
which afterwards assisted his own labours in explaining Scripture. After his
return to Scotland, having received from the presbytery of Irvine a license to
preach the gospel, he was chosen to officiate at the Gorbals, a district of Glasgo-w;
ii situation which at that time could be held by a licentiate of the church, before
being ordained to the pastoral function. On this occasion, one of the candidates
was l\Ir Robert Henry, afterwards the well known historian of Great Britain.
It chanced that the gentlemen who were thus placed in competition with each
other at the conunencement of life, were at last, after an interval of many years,
associated as colleagues in the charge of the Old Church parish of Edinburgh.

From the Gorbals, Mr fliacknight went to Kilwinning, in consequence of an
invitation from Mr Fergusson, then minister of that place ; and acted for some
time as his assistant in the charge of tlie parish. Here he conducted himself
with such propriety, that his character began to be established ; and on the death
of Mr Fisher, at Maybole, he obtained the vacant living there, with the con-
curring wish of the heritors and people. Of this charge, accordingly, he was
ordained as minister, on the 10th of May, 1753. At Maybole, Mr Macknight
continued sixteen years ; and discharged the duties of the pastoral office with
such assiduity and kindness, that, when he left it, he carried with him the afl'ec-
tions and regret of all his flock. It may be mentioned, as a pleasing evidence
of attachment, that when he proposed accepting a presentation to the living of
Jedburgh, many respectable inhabitants of the parish of Maybole, joined toge-

52G DR. JAMES MACKNIGIIT.

tlier in earnestly soliciting him to remain as their pastor; and in order to ob-
tain his compliance witii this recjuest, they o/lered, not only to augment llie value
of his inconio, but to provide him an assistant, should the state of his health
render it necessary. 'I'iiis generous proposal, however, he judged it proper
from prudential considerations, to de<;line.

It was at iMaybole, that, amidst his professional occupations in a populous
charge, I)r INIackniglit composed the fust and second of his works. i)f the for-
mer, indeed, or the Harmony of the (iospels, it appears from his papers, that
the plan had been conceived by him so early as the third or fourth year of his
attendance at the university ; and from that time he began to collect materials
for the publication. The first edition of this book was published in 1756. Al-
though the plan of it ditl'ered considerably from that of former Harmonies, in
supposing that the Evangelists have not neglected the order of time in the nar-
ration of events, the reception it met with from most competent judges was so
favourable, that the author was encouraged to undertake a second edition, with
considerable improvements and additions. This edition appeared in 17G3. In
the same year, was also published by Dr Macknight, another performance of gi-eat
merit, entitled the Truth of the Gospel History, which had been the fruit of the
author's studies during the interval between the first and second editions of his
Harmony. Its object is, to illustrate and confirm, both by argument and by
appeal to the testimony of ancient authoi-s, what are commonly arranged under
the three great titles of the Internal, the Collateral, and the Direct Evidences of
the Gospel History.

By these publications, Dr IMacknight soon obtained a high reputation for theo-
logical learning. The university of Edinburgh conferred on him (among thu
first who obtained that distinction in Scotland) the degi'ee of Doctor of Divinity:
and he was, in 1769, chosen moderator of the General Assembly of the chmxh of
Scotland. During the course of the same yeax% he was translated to the paro-
chial charge of Jedburgh; in which he remained about three years, and where
he received from his people the most flattering tokens of respect and kindness.
In 1772, he was elected one of the ministers of Edinburgh ; a preferment for
which he was chiefly indebted to the long-continued and steady friendship of the
very respectable and highly esteemed family of Kilkerran. His first charge in
Edinburgh was the parish of Lady Yester's ; from which he was translated, in
1778, to the Old Church, where he continued during the remainder of his life.

Besides performing the ordinary duties of the pastoral function, a minister of
Edinburgh, in virtue of his ofiice, is much occupied with public meetings on
business of various kinds, especially the management of the different chai-itable
foundations, which have long been the boast of the capital of Scotland, On
these, accordingly, Dr Macknight, though he entertained some doubts respect-
ing the good effects of such institutions, bestowed nmch of his attention ; and
his judicious counsels of management, were undoubtedly productive, at that
time, of considerable benefit, in maintaining the strictness of their discipline,
as well as the purity of their administration. Among other objects of such
official care, is the fund established by act of parliament for a provision to the
widows and children of ministers in the church of Scotland. As one of the
trustees appointed by the act, he had long taken a leading part in conducting
the business of this Charity; and after the death of Dr Webster, he was appointed
joint collector \villi Sir H. 31oncrieff' Welhvood, Bart.

In the cliurch courts he acted steadily on that system of ecclesiastical policy,
which for many years bad guided the decisions of the General Assembly. At
the same lime, he firmly resisted whatever appeared to him as any infringe-
ment oil the constitutional law or practice of the church ; and, accordingly,

DR. JAMES MACKNIGIIT. 525

when some of his moderate friends wished for the abolition of Calls, as an unne-
cessary form in the settlement of ministers, he moved and carried a resolution
of the Assembly of 1782, (relative to cei'tain overtures on the subject, then under
the discussion of the house,) " declaring, that the moderation of a Call in settling
ministers, is agreeable to the immemorial and constitutional practice of this
church, and that it ought to be continued :" a resolution which ^vas afterwards
converted into a declaratory act, and printed as such in the proceedings of the
Assembly for that year.

But what chiefly engaged his mind, and occupied liis time, after he became a
minister of Edinburgh, was the execution of his last and greatest work on the
Apostolical Epistles; which was published in 1795, in four volumes quarto.
Respecting this work, it is perhaps not unworthy of being told, tl'.at it was the
result of the unremitting labour of almost thirty years ; that, notwithstanding
his numerous professional avocations, the author, while composing it, was seldom
less than eleven hours every day employed in study; and that befoi-e it came to
the press, the whole manuscript had been written no less tiian five times with
his own hand At the time of publishing '* The New Translation of the Apos-
tolical Epistles, with a Commentary and Notes," Dr Macknight was highly in-
debted to the patronage of the duke of Grafton ; and after the work made its
appearance, he received the most honourable testimonies of approbation from
many of the bishops and respectable dignitaries of the church of England, as
well as from the ablest divines of all descriptions.

After the publication of this work, Dr Macknight considered himself as having
accomplished the greatest object of his life ; and, wishing to enjoy at the end of
his days, some relief from the labour of study, he resisted the repeated solicita-
tions of his friends, who earnestly urged him to undertake the illustration of
the Book of the Acts, on the same plan which he had so successfully followed in
explaining other parts of the New Testament. — But soon after this period, from
the want of their usual exercise, a sensible decline of his faculties, particularly
a failure of his memory, was observed by his family. This fact is a striking
instance of the analogy between the powers of the body and those of the mind,
both of which suffer by inaction ; and it furnishes a useful caution to those who
have been long habituated to any regular exertion of mind, against at once de-
sisting entirely from its usual efforts ; since the effect, in the course of nature,
is not only to create languor, but to hasten the pi'ogress of debility and failure.

As yet, however, (1796,) Dr Blacknight's bodily vigour seemed to be but little
impaired. In early life, he was afflicted with frequent headachs ; but after he
had reached the age of thirty, they seldom returned: and he afforded a singular
instance of a sedentary life long continued, with hardly any of those complaints
Avhich it usually induces. This uninterrupted enjoyment of health he owed,
under Providence, to a naturally robust make, and a constitution of body un-
commonly sound and vigorous, along with regular habits of temperance, and of
taking exercise, which he did by walking nearly three hours every day.

Having finished the task he had prescribed to himself as an author, he
mingled frequently in the society of his friends, from which, at intervals, he
had always received much enjoyment ; and long retained the same cheerfulness
of temper, for which at the hours of relaxation from severe study, he had been
remarkable, when in the company of those whom he esteemed. Even after the
symptoms of his decline were become visible, (1798,) his natural sagacity and
strength of judgment, as well as his extensive and familiar knowledge of the
Scriptures, were still to be discerned in his conversation and public appear-
ances. And so habitual was liis anxiety to discharge his duty, that he insisted
on officiating for a considerable time after his friends had wished him to with-

528 DR. JAMES MACKNIGIIT.

draw from public labour. It was not, indeed, without much entreaty, that he
at last consented to accept tlie services of an assistant.

The disease whicii terminated liis life was llie ])eripncnnionia notlia, occa-
eioned by an incautious exposure to the severity of tiie weather, abotit tlie end
of Ueceml)cr, 171)!). '1 his distemper, in its progi-ess and issue, resisted the
ablest and most assiduous efVorts of medical skill. — During his illness, his mind
was composed, tranquil, and resigned ; he never complained ; and on the
morning of tlie 13tli of .Tanuary, 1800, he expired williout a struggle. As in
the course of the preceding night he slept but little, the time was employed in
liearing passages from the I'salms and llvangelists, which by his own desire
were read to him by one of his family. — Ihus, having spent his life in il-
lustrating Scripture, and exerted the last ellbrts of his attention in listen-
ing with delight to its precious words, he may be truly said to liave slept in
Jesus.

As a clergyman, the sentiments and conduct of Dr Macknight were equally
characterized by consistency and propriety. In the discharge of every public
and private duty of religion, with a constant reliance on divine aid, he \vas re-
gular and steady. He knew and felt what became the sacred office ^vhich he
held; and never departed, on any occasion, from the dignity or decorum of his
professional character. Having given himself \vholly to tlie meditation of
divine things, he continued in them : in the work of his blaster he was steadfast
and faithful to the end. — His piety was at once sincere, rational, and without
ostentation. To be useful in the r^iuse of truth and virtue, was his highest am-
bition ; and with all the means of attaining this end which the resources of a
well-informed and liberal mind could supply, he united a zeal for the interests
of Christianity, which terminated only with iiis life.

When engaged, either in private controversy or in tlie public debates of the
church courts, he was always remarkable for speaking strictly to the point at is-
sue. He ^vas likewise distinguished by coolness, discretion, and command of
temper ; he listened with patience to the arguments of his opponents ; and in
delivering his opinions, he showed himself uniformly open, candid, and explicit.
At the same time, his talent was rather that of business than of address ; he ap-
peared to be better fitted for deciding on the merits of a question in debate,
than for soothing the passions, or managing the humours of mankind, — a quali-
fication rarely possessed but by minds of a superior order.

On various subjects, besides those embraced by his profession, his range of
knowledge was ample and profound. He perused the writers of antiquity with
critical skill ; and of his acquaintance with the Greek language, especially the
original of the New Testament, his observations on the force of the particles, iu
his Commentary, are a sufficient proof. In the speculations, also, of metaphy-
sicnl, moral, and mathematical science, he was a considerable proficient. The
fact is, his powers were sucli as might have been turned with advantage to any
department of knowledge or learning.

It may further be noticed, that in conducting the ordinary aftairs of life, he
displayed uncommon prudence and sagacity. He was one of those who are
generally attentive to small concerns, but on proper occasions show themselves
liberal to a high degree. Of this, dilTerent instances occurred in the course of
his transactions with his friends ; and he was enabled to act on such a principle

of generosity, by his usual habits of economy and prudence Dr Blacknight's

external appearance was sufficiently expressive of his chai-acter. His counten-
ance was manly and commanding, and his gait remarkably erect and firm.

Dr Macknight'-s " Harmony of the Gospels" has long been esteemed a work of
standard excellence for the students of evangelical knowledge. His " Truth of the

COLIN MACLAURIN. 529

Gospel History" has hitherto attracted the notice of the public less than any of
his other productions ; but it well deserves to be more generally read ; since of I
\vhat it proposes to establish, it contains the most satisfying- views that can be
suggested by learning, acuteness, and good sense, and is admitted by the best
judo^es to be a performance as useful and instructive as any we have on that im-
portant subject. It is, in fact, a kind of storehouse, from which subsequent
writers on tlie same subject, have borrowed largely in point of argimient and
illustration.

Tlie " Commentary on the Apostolical Epistles" is now held in peculiar esti-
mation ; and it may be doubted whether the scope of the sacred authox's of
these writings was ever, in any former age of Christianity, more fully, cleai'ly,
and happily stated, than has been done by Dr. Maeknight, in the general views
and illustrations which he has prefixed to the several chapters of the Epistles.

The Life of the Apostle Paul, which concludes tiie fourth vohnne of " The
Translation and Commentary," is an excellent compendium of the apostolical
history, and may be considered as the author's view and illustration of the Acts
of the Apostles — the only part of the New Testament writings (besides the Reve-
lation of St John) to whicli the labours of Dr Maeknight, as a commentator,
were not directed. — In all his writings, his style, thougli unambitious of ele-
gance or ornament, is perspicuous, and appropriate to the subject.

All Dr Macknight's works were originally printed in quarto. Of the " Har-
mony" and llie " Epistles" many editions have since been published in octavo.
To s!iow the respect which has been paid in England to his various works, the
following passage from the " Library Companion" of tlie Kev. T. F. Dibdin,
may be quoted. After recommending to the young theologian the works of
Lai'dner, Doddridge, and Watts, Mr Dibdin says, " Nor let the name of 3Iac-
knight be forgotten. His works, indeed, ai-e the more exclusive property of
the disciplined theological student ; but the general reader will do well to se-
cure his inviting quartos upon the Gospels and Epistles of the New Testament.
In these he will find learning without pedantry, and piety without enthusiasm.
In short, no theological collection can be perfect without them. If any man may
be said to have exliausted his subject, it is Maeknight."

Soon after the time of his being ordained, Dr Maeknight married Elizabeth
M'Cormick, eldest daughter of Samuel M'Cormick, Esq., general examiner of
the excise in Scotland. Of his family the only one remaining became a clergy-
man of the church of Scotland.

MACLAURIN, Colin, an eminent mathematician and philosopher, was de-
scended from an ancient and respectable family, which had long been in pos-
session of the island of Tiree, a solitary but comparatively fertile member of the
Hebridean range. His grandfather, Daniel M'Laurin, removed thence to In-
verary, and contributed greatly to restore that town, which was nearly ruined in
the civil wars. He wrote some memoirs of his own times, and appears to have
been a man of superior abilities. John, the son of Daniel, and father of Colin,
was minister of the parish of Glenderule, where he was greatly beloved as a
faithful and diligent pastor ; he completed a version of the Psalms in Irish,
which was generally used in those parts of the country where divine service was
performed in that language. He married a lady of the name of Cameron, by
whom he had three sons. John, tlie eldest, was for many years one of the min-
isters of the city of Glasgow, and well known as the author of several essays and
sermons ; he was also one of the most popular preachers of his day. Daniel,
the second son, died at an early age, after having given proofs of surprising
genius; and Colin, born at Kilmoddan, in the month of February, 1G98. His
father died six weeks alter ; but the loss to the family was not so severely felt

C30 COLTN MACLAURIN.

.18 it ollierwise iniglit liave been, on account of tlie l;iiul .ulvice ami beiierolent
atteiilioii of a wortliy uncle, the reverend Daniel ."Maclaurin, minister of Kiifin-
nan, and llie careful economy and exemplary vFrHies of tiieir motlier. After
remaining in Argyleshire for some time, on a small patrimonial estate, which
v;as divided between 31 rs 31aclaiirin and liei- sisters, slie removed to Dinnijarton,
for tlie more convenient educition of her «-,hildren ; but dying in 1707, the en-
tire cliaroe of tiie orplians devolved upon their uncle. Colin, at this time, uas
nine years old ; and, although of a delicate constitution, he was remarkable for
the quickness of his apprehension, and the retentiveness of his memory ; he was
passionately fond of learning, and pursued his studies with so nmcli zeal and
satisfaction, as to be fully qualified to enter the university of (Glasgow, in two
years after his mother's deatl). lie was accordingly placed tiiere under the di-
rection of 3IrCarmichael, an admirable public teacher, \\ho took the greatest pains
in superintending his education, and for whom IMr 3Iaclaurin, ever after in life,
evinced the warmest feelings of gratitude and respect. His proficiency in every
branch of elementary learning was so rapid, and his application to study so in-
tense, that his teachers were astonished at the ease and quickness w ith which he
distanced, not only those who were commencing the same class with himself, but
those who had the advantage of attending for many sessions before him. His
youthful imagination entered with great delight into the beauties of the writings
of tlie ancients, and a taste for classical learning never forsook him during the
whole course of his life, notwithstanding the predominant bent of his wonderful
genius for the cultivation and improvement of mathematical science. From the
time he entered college, he kept a diary, in which he carefully noted down the
beginning and success of every particular study, inquiry, or investigation, his
conversations with learned men, tlie subjects of those, and the arguments on
either side. This was found among his oldest manuscripts, and in it might be
read the names of the celebrated flIrKobert Simpson, Dr Johnson, and several
other gentlemen of learning and worth, who all seemed anxious who should
most encourage our young philosopher, by opening to him their libraries, and
admitting him into their most intimate society and friendship. His genius for
mathematical learning discovered itself so early as twelve years of age, when,
having accidentally met with a copy of Euclid, in a friend's chamber, he became
master, in a few days, of the first six books, without any assistance ; and having
accomplished this extraordinary enterprise, his predilection for tiie science of
quantity was determined for life. He now made an extraordinary progress,
as we very soon after find him engaged in solving the most curious and diffi-
cult problems.

At fifteen years of age, IMr Maclaurin took his degree of master of arts,
having passed through the curriculum , or public course of lectures appointed by
the university, which must be attended before this honour can be gained. The
subject he selected for his thesia^was, the "Power of Gravity," and this, accord-
ing to the custom of the times, it was necessary for him to defend publicly. It
may be necessary to observe, for the information of those who are acquainted
with the manner in which such disputations were conducted in Scotland, that
the candidate was left free to select for this ordeal any literary or scientific
subject he thought proper. The depth and holdness of the topic proposed by
young 3Iaclaurin at once revealed what kind of studies had engaged his atten-
tion while at the university, and excited the wonder and admiration of all pre-
sent. In most instances, the subjects of disputation were of a trifling kind, and
adapted chiefly to aflbrd the candidate an opportunity of displaying his ingenu-
ity and acquaintance with the mood and figure of the school of logic But the
mind of cur youthful philosopher disdained to stoop to any thing puerile or com-

COLIN MACLAURIN. 531

mon-place, and the sublimity of his subject showed at once the nature of his
studies and the depth of his erudition. At that time the philosophy of Newton was
comparatively unknown, and even men the most distinguished in science were
slow to comprehend the great and important truths it contained. None but
those profoundly skilled in geometry could fully comprehend his doctrines, and
that of itself excluded many from the study ; whilst otliers were bound in the
trammels of the scholastic jargon of Aristotle, or the imaginary vortices of Des
Cartes. When, therefore, young Maclaurin cliose the " Power of Gravity"
as the subject of his thesis, it was a presupposition that he was fully acquainted
with the fundamental doctrines of Newton's discoveries, and upon this occasion
he acquitted liimself to the wonder and delight of his auditors. He afterwards
illustrated t!ie same subject in a most beautiful manner, in the last two books of
his account of the philosophical discoveries of Sir Isaac. There is only one
instance more, in the whole range of literature, that we are acquainted with, of
such extraordinary and precocious talent where a predisposition for mathemati-
cal science was any thing like so strong, and that is in the person of Pas-
cal, >vhom Bayle calls the divine — nearly at the same age, though not ex-
ceeding that of our youthful philosoplier. He, too, by the force of his irresist-
ible genius, in secret and by stealtli, may be said to have invented a system of
geometrical science, whicli, to keep him in ignorance of, his father had sacri-
ficed both fame and fortune. It might be invidious to compare the philosophic
acquirements of these great men in after life, further than their mutual fondness
for classic literature, in which they both proved themselves elegant writers.
They had both a strong sense of religion on their minds, and to those \vhoha\e
perused their worlcs, their most anxious desire must appear to have been to ap-
ply the theoretical propositions which were known, or they themselves had
demonstrated, so as to promote the real benefit of mankind.

Maclaurin having made such an extraordinary progress in the study of
geometry, and having, with little trouble, conquered difficulties which, in
general, are looked upon as so formidable, passed at once to the higher
branches of that science, and, instead of being deterred from exertion by the
intricacy of tlie demonstrations \vhich necessarily met him at every step as he
proceeded in the investigation of difficult propositions, his energies seemed to
acquire new life and vigour to enable him to surmount every obstacle in liis
way. Nothing delighted him more than to be engaged in difficult and curious
problems, and this nuicli is certain, that in his sixteenth year he had already
invented many of the finest propositions afterwards published under the title of
Geometria Organica.

At the beginning of the session in 1714, immediately subsequent to taking
his degree, he entered himself as a student of divinity, but he only attended the
college for one year longer, when, becoming disgusted at the dissensions that at
that time had crept into the church, he relinquished all ideas of becoming a
clergyman, and, happily for science, determined to devote himself to the study
of mathematics and philosophy. He quitted the university and retired to his
uncle's house, at Kilfinnan, in a sequestered part of the country. That good
man having, at all times, acted as a father to him, he determined to wait with
patience until some secular employment should occur. In this happy seclusion,
he continued his favourite researches, still cultivating his mind by a perusal of
the best classic authors, for which he had naturally the most refined taste. The
sublime scenery amidst which he lived, would, at proper intervals, invite him to
wander throuoh the lofty mountains and lonely glens, to consider the number-
less natural curiosities with which they abound ; and here his fancy being warm-
ed by the grand scenes which presented themselves, he would sometimes break

532 COLI.M MACLAIIRTN.

out in an ode, or hymn, on the beauties of nature, and the perfection of its Author.
Of these, some fragments were jireserved by liis friends, and alUiotigh we know
not if lliey were ever pubiislied, still tliey must iiave possessed considerable in-
terest, as serving to develope the openings and improvements of a mind like that
of 3Iaclaurin.

When I\lr 3Iaclaurin was only nineteen years old, in the autumn of 1717, a
Tacancy occurred in the professorship of mathematics in the IMarischal college
of Aberdeen. For tliis he presented himself as a c:andidate, and carried along
Avith him the most ample testimonials from his friends at Glasgow, wliere lie
had distinguished himself so eminently. A very able competitor appeared in
the field against him, but after a competition, or comparative trial of excellence,
■which lasted for ten days, jMr 31aclaurin was declared the successful candidate.
Being no^v fixed in his chair, he quickly revived the taste for mathematical learn-
ing, and raised it higher than it had ever been in that university, lie continued
at Aberdeen discharging the duties of his oftice, and had the happiness to perceive
his usefulness increasing, and his popularity as a public professor greatly ex-
tended. In the vacations of 1717 and 1719, he went to London, with the
view of extending his information, and of being introduced to the illustrious
men there. As mathematical knowledge was never in so great request, nor its
professors so much honoured at any period in the history of Britain, his fame
had already gone before him ; but, independent of that, he was furnished uith
letters of introduction from professor Simpson and Dr Clark, to the first philo-
sophers of that or any other age. It was this first journey to London that laid
the foundation of his subsequent fortunes in lile. Besides Dr Iloadly, then
bishop of Bangor, Dr Samuel Clark, and several other eminent men, he became
acquainted with Sir Isaac Newton, who not only patronized him as a young man
of genius, and possessed of a singular turn of mind for mathematical investiga-
tion, but seems to have formed for him a stronger degree of attachment than
he was ever known to exhibit towards any one of the numerous candidates for
his patronage. This kind preference, Mr Maclaurin ever after considered the
greatest honour and hajipiness of his life. Long before he meditated his jour-
ney to London, he was an enthusiastic admirer of the philosophy of Newton,
and of the almost superhuman genius of its inventor. To him he therefore
submitted his treatise on the " Bower of Gravity," which he brought with him, in
manuscript, to London, and, on its receiving the sanction of him who had done
more to extend the boundaries of mathematical s<;ience than almost all man-
kind, IMr IVIaclaurin's triumpli was complete. He was admitted a member of
the Koyal Society when only twenty-one years of age, and two of his papers
Avere, about the same time, inserted in the transactions of that learned body, and
his book, entitled Geometria Organica, uas published with the approbation of
their president. In his second journey, he became acquainted with Blartin
i Folks, I'sq., who succeeded Sir Isaac Newton as president of the Boyal Society,

' ! and with whom he thenceforth cultivated a most entire and unreserved friend-
ship. Tliis great patron of scientific men Irequently corresponded with him,
communicating to him all his views and improvements in tlie sciences, and en-
couraging liiiu to proceed in his philosophical studies.

In 1722, lord Bolwarth, ambassador jrom the court of St James's to the con-
gress of Canibray, had been for some time looking out f<ir a proper person to
accompany his son, Mr Hume, on his travels. His lordship was fond of litera-
ture and the company of literary men ; he had frequent opportunities of ob-
serving jMr M.iclaurin's behaviour, who at this time, from his consunmiate
abilities, was admitted into the highest circles of society in London. His lord-
ehip being deeply prepossessed in favour of our youthful philosopher, engaged

COLIN MACLAURIK. 533

liiiii as companion and tutor to his son. Maclaurin having procured a proper
person to fill his place for a time at the college of Aberdeen, and feeling a
strong desire to gratify his curiosity by visiting foreign countries, he according-
ly with his friend and scholar set out for France, and proceeded at once to the
capital, where they took up their abode. After remaining a short time at
Paris, they visited several of the chief towns in France, and finally fixed upon
Lorraine for tiieir residence. Here they had the advantage of a good academy,
besides the introduction to one of the most polite courts in Europe. Mr Mac-
laurin had now an opportunity of improving that easy and genteel address
•which was at all times natural to him, and with his graceful person and great
erudition, he excited the admiration, and gained the esteem of the most distin-
guished persons of both sexes. Here he wrote his essay on the percussion of
bodies, which gained the prize of the Koyal Academy of Sciences in 1724.
The substance of this tract is inserted in his Treatise of Fluxions.

On leaving Lorraine with his pupil on a tour through the southern provinces
of France, and arriving at Montpelier, Mr Hume was seized with a fever which
quickly terminated his life. This dreadful calamity affected IMr Maclaurin in
the deepest manner and overwhelmed him with grief. In some letters written
on that melancholy occasion, he seemed almost inconsolable for the loss of his
pupil, companion, and friend, and his sympathy with a family to which he owed
great obligations, and which had sufTei-ed an irreparable loss in the death of
this hopeful young nobleman, rendered him unhappy beyond expression.
Travelling and all other things being now distasteful, he set out immediately on
his return to his profession at Aberdeen.

Having by this time justly earned the distinction of one of the first men of
his country, the curators of the university of Edinburgh were desirous of en-
gaging him to supply the place of Mr James Gregory, whose age and infirmities
had rendered him incapable of teaching ; but several difficulties retarded the
design for some time. A gentleman euiinent for mathematical abilities, but
whose name is now forgotten, had succeeded in gaining over some of the
patrons, who promised him their interest for the appointment, until a recom-
mendatory letter from Sir Isaac Newton completely turned the balance in Mr
Maclaurin's favoui*. Sir Isaac first addressed Mr Maclaurin, with allowance to
show it to the patrons of the university, and expresses himself as follows : — " I
am very glad to hear that you have a prospect of being joined to Mr James
Gregory in the professorship of mathematics at Edinburgh, not only because you
are my friend, but principally because of your abilities, you being acquainted
as well with the new improvements of mathematics as whh the former state of
those sciences ; I heartily wish you good success, and shall be very glad of
hearing of your being elected ; I am, with all sincerity, your faithful friend,
and most humble servant." In a second letter to the lord provost of Edin-
burgh, which Mr JMaclaurin knew nothing of till some years after Sir Isaac's
death, he thus writes : " I am glad to understand that Mr Maclaurin is in good
repute amongst you for his skill in mathematics, for I think he deserves it very
well, and to satisfy you that I do not flatter him, and also to encourage him to
accept the place of assisting Mr Gregory, in order to succeed him, I am ready
(if you please to give me leave,) to contribute twenty pounds per annum towards
a provision for him till Mr Gregory's place becomes void, if I live so long, and
I will pay it to his order in London." The town council, however, with be-
coming pride, respectfully declined this generous ofler, and the business was
finally arranged that Mr (jregory was to retain his salary during life ; his
family in case of their fitlier's death were secured in it for seven years from the
date of Mr Maclaurin's being inducted as joint professor, who was promised fifty

531 COLIN MACLAURIN.

pounds per annum, besides the fees lie received frnm the students attending tin
class, upon condition of jierfuniiinfif all tlie <lutiP8 of tlie oflice. On the 5d
November, L7"25, he Mas ihlrodu(!ed to the university, as Mas at the same time
his learned collenijue and intiiiiale friend, IJr Alexander IMonro, professor of
anatomy, 'i he subjects uliich 31r IVlaclaiirin introduced into the dilVerent
courses of lectures on mathematics Merc very miscellaneous, and the classes
soon became unusually numerous, there bein<r upwards of a hundred yoiini^ gen-
tlemen attCMdin<jf his lectures, mIio being of ditl'erent standings and proficiency,
he was obliged to divide thcni into four or live classes, in each of \vhich he em-
ployed a full iiour every day, from the 1st of November to the 1st of June. In
the first or lowest class, (sometimes divided into two.) he taught the first six
books of Muclid's Mlcmenls, plain trigonometry, practical geometry, the elements
of fortificUion, and an introduction to Algebra. 'Ihe second class repeated tlie
Algebra again from its principles, and advanced farther in it, then proceeded to
the theory of mensuration of solids, spherical trigononieliT, the doctrine of the
Sphere, diallino-, and other practical parts. After this he gave the doctrine of
the conic sections, with the theory of gunnery, anil concluded with the elements
of astronomy and optics. In the third class he went on in astronomy and per-
spective, prelected on Sir Isaac Newton's Principia, and explained the di-
rect and inverse method of fluxions. At a separate hour he began a class of
experimental philosophy about the middle of December, which continued thrico
every week till the beginning of April, and at proper hours of the night de-
scribed the constellations and showed the planets by telescopes of various
kinds. All IMr Alaclaurin's lectures on these dillerent subjects were given witii
Buch perspicuity of method and language, that his demonstrations seldom stood
in need of being repeated. Such, ho\vever, \vas his anxiety for the improve-
ment of his scholars, that if at any time he found they could not comprehend
his meaning, or if upon examining them he found they could not readily de-
monstrate the propositions which he had proved, he was a]U rather to suspect
that his own expressions had been obscure than their want of genius or atten-
tion. He, therefore, would resume the demonstration in some other method,
in order to try, if, by presenting it in a different light, he could give them a
better view of it. Besides the labours of his public profession, he had
frequently many other employments and avocations. If an uncommon experi-
ment Mas said to have been made any where, the curious were desirous of having
it repeated by 31r JMaclaurin. On all momentous occasions he Mas the first to
be applied to ; and if an eclipse or comet was to be observed, his telescopes were
always in readiness. Such was the elegance and amenity- of liis manners, that
the ladies took the liveliest interest in his experiments and observations, and
were delighted and sui-jn'ised at finding how easily and familiarly he would re-
solve the questions they j)ut to him ; and to tliose gentlemen who had been his
pupils his advice and assistance were never wanting ; n( r was admittance refused
to any except in his teacliing hours, which were devoted to thnt purpose aloi;e.
The ingenious of all ranks courted his acquaintance and friendship, and so
anxious and pressing were they to enjoy the pleasure of his conipany and con-
versation after his usual avocations \\ere over, that he was obliged to take from
the ordinary hours of repose what he bestowed on his scholars and friends, and
by persevering in deep and severe study, he exhausted his sti-ength and greatly
impaired his health. About this time, at the beginning of the year 1728, Sir
Isaac Newton died, and his nephew, 3ir t onduill, proposed to jmblish an ac-
count of his life, for which purpose he applied to IMr Alaciauriri for his assist-
ance, \vho out of gratitude to his gie.it buiiel'actor readily un<lertook the task,
and finished the history of the proj^ress wiiich philosophy had made before Sir

COLIN MACLAURIN. 535

Isaac's lime. When the fust draught of tliat work was sent up to London it was
shown to some eminent judges, and met with their highest approbation.
Among the rest Dr Hundle, afterwards bishop of Derry, was so pleased
with the design that Jie mentioned it as particularly worthy of tlie Queen's no-
tice, who, after attentively perusing it, was so highly gratified that she expressed
a desire to see it published ; but 3Ir Conduitt's death having prevented the exe-
cution of his part of the proposed work, 3Ir 3Iaclaurin's manuscript was re-
turned to him. To this he afterwards added the more recent proofs and exam-
ples given by liimself and others on the subjects treated by Sir Isaac, and left
it in the state in which it now appears. Mr Maclaurin continued to live sin-
gle till the year 1733, when, having a mind equally formed for the social
endearments of refined society as those of the profoundest philosophy, he mar-
ried Anne, daugliter of Mr Walter Stewart, solicitor-general for Scotland to
George the first, by whom he had seven children.

Dr Buckley, bishop of Cloyne, having taken occasion, from some disputes that
had arisen concerning tlie grounds of the fluxionary method, in a treatise, en-
titled the Analyst, published in 1734, to explode tlie method itself, and at the
same time to charge mathematicians in general with infidelity in religion, Blr
Maclaurin entered the lists of disputation with him, eager to defend his favour-
ite study and repel an accusation in which he was most unjustly included.
He comuienced his reply to the bishop's book ; but as he entered more deeply
into the subject, so many discoveries, so many new theories and problems oc-
curred to him, tiiat, instead of a vindicatory pamphlet, his work, Avhen finished,
presented a complete system of fluxions, witli tlioir application to the most con-
siderable problems in geometry and natural philosophy. Tliis woric was pub-
lished in Edinburgh in 174-2, in two volumes quarto, in whicii Me are at a loss
what most to admire — his solid, unexceptionable demonstrations of the grounds of
the method itself, or its application to siu^h a v.7riety of curious and useful
problems. A society had for many years subsisted in Edinburgh, for the ad-
vancement of medical knowledge ; IMr Blaclaurin, on reviewing their plan of
proceedings, and not thinking it sufficiently extensive, pi-oposed to take in all
parts of physics, together with the antiquities of the country. This was readily
agreed to, and JMr Maclaurin's influence engaged several noblemen and gentle-
men of the first rank and character, to join themselves for that purpose to the
members of the former society. The earl of Morton did them the honour to
accept of the office of president. Dr Plummer, professor of chemistry, and Jlr
Blaclaurin, were appointed secretaries ; and several gentlemen of distinction,
English and foreigners, desired to be admitted members. At the monthly
meetings of the society, Blr Maclaurin generally read some treatise of his own,
or communicated the contents of his letters from foreign parts; by which means
the society wei'C informed of every new discovery or improvement in the
sciences. Several of the papers read before this society, aie printed in the 5th
and 6th volumes of the 3Iedical Essays ; some of them are also published in
the Philosophical Transactions ; and Mr Maclaurin had occasion to insert a
great many more in his Treatise of Fluxions, and in his account of Sir Isaac
Newton's philosophy. He was the first who proposed the building of an astrono-
mical observatory, and a convenient school for experiments, in the university of
Edinburgh, of which he drew an elegant and well contrived plan ; and, as this
work was to be carried on by private subscription, he used all his influence to
raise money for that purpose with so much success, that, had not the Rebellion
intervened in Scotland, the work would have been speedily completed. The
earl of Morton, on visiting his estates in Orkney and Slietland in 1739, wanted
at the same time to settle the geography of these islands, which was very er-

53G COLTN MACLAURIN.

roiieoiisly laiil down on all our maps, to examine tlicir natural liistory, to survey
tlic coasts, and lal;e the measure of a degree of the meridian, — and for this
purpose lie applied to 31r 31aclaurin for liis assistance ; but his domestic affiiire
not permitting liim to undertake the journey, lie drew up a plan of what he
thouoht necessary ti> be observed, furnished the proper instruments, and recom-
mended Mv Short, the celebrated optician, as a lit operator for managing them.
The ac<;ounts IMr 31acl.uirin afterwards received of tliis voyage, made him still
more sensible of the erroneous geography we had of those parts, by which so
many shipwrecl^s had been occrsioned, and he therefore employed several of
his scholars, \U»o were then settled in the northern counties, to survey the
coasts,

3Ir 3Iac]aurin had still more extensive views for the inij)rovement of gco-
gi'aphy and navigation over all the surface of the globe. After carefidly perus-
ing all the accounts of voy<iges, both in the South and North Seas, he was of
opinion that the sea was most probably to be found open from Greenland to the
South Sea, by the North Pole; and, when schemes for finding out such a passage
were submitted to parliament in 174il', he was consulted concerning them by
several persons of high rank aad influence ; but before he could finish the me-
morials which he proposed to have sent, the premium was limited to the dis-
covery of a north-west passage, and Mr IMaclaurin used to regret that the word
west \vas inserted, because he thought a passage, if at all to be found, must lie
not far from the pole. Of this he appeared to be so deeply persuaded, that he
has been heard to say, if his situation could admit of such adventures, he would
gladly undertake the voyage, even at his own cost.

Such Avas the zeal this amiable and celebrated man evinced on every occasion
for the public good : the last and most remarkable instance, is that whicli we
shall now relate.

In 1745, when the Highland army had got between Edinburgh and the
king's troops, Mr IMaclaurin was the first to rouse the friends of the existing-
government from the security in Mhich they had hitherto continued; and thouoh
he was aware that the city was not long defensible, or able to resist even the un-
disciplined and ill-armed host that was advancing to attack it, yet as he fore-
saw how much might be gained by the insurgents' possessing themselves of the
capital, and tlie king's foi'ces, under Sir John Cope, being daily expected,
he made plans of the walls, proposed the several trenches, barricades, batteries,
and all such defences as he thought could be thrown up before the arrival of the
enemy, earnestly hoping that the town might thus hold out till relieved. The
whole burden, not only of contriving, but also of overseeing the execution of
this hasty defence, fell to Mr Maclaurin's share. He was indefatigable in his
exertions, employed both night and day in drawing plans, and running from
place to place ; so tiiat the anxiety, fatigue, and cold to which lie was thus ex-
posed, affecting a constitution naturally weak, laid the foundation of the disease
of which he died. It is not properly connected with our subject to inquire how
Mr 3Iaclaurin's plans were neglected or defeated, or by what means prince
Chai-les got possession of Edinburgh ; but, after defeating the king's troops at
Prestonpans, he found himself in such strength as to issue several very arbitrary
orders, among which was one commanding all who had been volunteers in the
defence of the city, before a stated time, to wait on his secretary, to subscribe
a recantation of what they had done, and a promise of submission to the new
government, under the pain of being deemed and treated as rebels. IMr 3Iac-
laurin had acted too conspicuous a part as a volunteer, to hope to escape their
vengeance, if he once fell into their hands ; he therefore privately withdrew
into England, before the last day of receiving the submissions, but not before he

COLIN MACLAURIN. 537

rontrived means to convey a good telescope into t'.ie castle, and to supply
tlie garrison with provisions.

Dr Thomas Herring, then archbishop of York, hearing that Mr Maclaurin
had taken refuge in the north of England, invited him in the most friendly
manner to reside with him dining his stay in that part of the country. Mr
Maclaurin gladly accepted the invitation, and soon after expresses himself thus
in a letter to a fiiend : — " Here," says he, '' I live as happily as a man can do
who is ignorant of the stnte of his family, and who sees the ruin of his country."
His grace of York, of whose talents and goodness Mr Maclaurin ever retained the
highest veneration, held a frequent correspondence with him ; and when it was
suspected that the rebels might again enter Edinburgh on their retreat from Eng-
land, he invited his former guest, for ease and security, to his hospitable mansion.
While at York, it was remarked that i\lr Maclaurin appeared more than usually
meagre and sickly ; but he, at that time, feeling no apprehension of danger, did
not consider it necessary to call in medical aid. Having fallen from his horse,
however, on his journey southward, and, when the Pretender's army entered Eng-
land, having, on his return home, been exposed to excessive cold and tempes-
tuous WQ.ather, he complained upon his arrival of being seriously indisposed.
His disease was soon discovered to be a dropsy in the abdomen, to remove
which a variety of medicines were prescribed by the most eminent physicians of
the day, and three tappings were resorted to, with little or no effect. While
suftering under this painful malady, his behaviour was such as became a philo-
sopher and Christian; calm, clieerful, and resigned; retaining his senses and
judgment in their full vigour, till within a few hours of his death. Then, for
llie first time, while engaged in dictating to his amanuensis the last part of the
last chapter of his Account of Sir Isaac Newton's Discoveries, in which he
proves the goodness of God, his amanuensis perceived him to falter. Dr Monro
came in shortly afterwards, and he conversed Avith liim after liis accustomed
manner, and requested him to account for flashes of fire, as it were, darting
from his eyes, though his sight was gradually decaying, so that he could
scarcely distinguish one object from another. His hands and feet were already
cold, and no pulse could be traced in any part of his body. In a short time he
desired to be laid upon his bed, where he breathed his last, on the I4th June,
174G, aged forty-eight years and four months. His wife, two sons, and
three daughters, survived him. John, the eldest son, studied the law, and after
making a distinguished figure at the bar, was promoted to the bench, 17t!i
.fanuary, 1789, under the designation of lord Dreghorn. He was an excellent
scholar, and erected a monument to his father in the Grey Friars' churchyard,
with an inscription which has often been quoted for its simple and expressive
eloquence. Lord Dreghorn also published various pieces in prose and verso,
which, in their day, enjoyed some reputation, and have been oftener than once
printed.

Colin Blaclaurin was not only distinguished by his great genius and learn-
ing, but by the qualities of his heart, his universal benevolence, and unaffected
piety. Dr Monro, in an oration spoken at the first meeting of the university
after his death, (from which much of the foregoing account is taken.) draws a
sublime and affecting picture of his friend's great qualities, and professes that,
after an intimacy with him for so many years, he had but half known his
woi"th which only disclosed itself in its full lustre, when it came to suffer the
severe test of that distressful situation in which every mnn must at last find
himself and which only minds prepared like his, armed with virtue, can bear
with dignity.

If we look back upon the numerous writings of Mr 3Iaclaurin, and tha

538 COLIN MACLAURIN.

deep researches he had been engaged in, his patience and assiduity Aviil be
ccjually astonishing with his genius. His favourite studies were niatlieniatics,
whicii he cultivated with wonderful success, inlluenced by a disinterested love of
truth, and aiming constantly at improvement and utility. The further he ad-
vanced in the knowledge of geometry and of nature, tiie greater his aversion
grew to perfect systems, hypotheses, and dogniati-^ting. Without being dissatis-
fied with the attainments we can arrive at, or the uses which they serve, lie
saw that there lay infinitely more beyond our reach, and used to call our high-
est discoveries but a dawn of knowledge, suited to our circumstances and wants
in life, in which, however, we ought thankfully to acquiesce for the present, in
hopes that it will be improved in a happier and more perfect state. 'Jo a view
of general utility, all his studies were acconnuodated ; and we find in many
places of his works, an application even of the most abstruse theories, to the
perfecting of mechanical arts. He had resolved, for the same purpose, to com-
pose a course of practical mathematics, and to rescue several branches of the
science from the bad treatment whicli they often meet with in less skilful hands.
But all those designs were frustrated by his death, unless we may reckon as a
part of his intended work, the Translation of Ur David Gregory's Practical
Geometry, which he revised and published, with additions, in the year 1745.
In his lifetime, liowever, lie often had the pleasure to serve his friends and
country, by his superior skill. Whatever difficulty occurred concerning the
construction or perfecting of machines, the working of mines, the improvement
of manufactures, the conveying of water, or the execution of any public work,
IMr JMaclaurin was at hand to resolve it. He was likewise employed to termi-
nate some disputes of consequence, that liad arisen at Glasgow, concerning the
gauging of vessels ; and for that purpose presented to the commissioners of
excise two memorials contaiuing rules (by which the officers afterwards acted,)
^vith their demonstrations. But what must have given his philanthropic mind
a higher source of pleasure than any thing else of the kind, were the calculations
he made relative to that wise and humane provision, which is established by
law, for the children and widows of the Scottish clergy, and of the professors
in the universities, entitling them to certain annuities and sums, upon the
voluntary annual payment of a certain sum by the incumbent. On the contriv-
ance and adjustment of this scheme, Mr 3Iaclaurin bestowed great labour, and
contributed not a little to bring it to perfection.

To find that Ins knowledge rendered him thus eminently useful to a late pos-
terity, nuist liave been a delightful enjoyment. But what still more endeared
his studies to him, was the use they were of in demonstrating the being and attri-
butes of the Almighty Creator, and establishing the principles of natural reli-
gion on a solid foundation, equally secure against the idle sophistry of Epi-
cureans, and the dangerous refinements of modern metaphysicians.

To this use IMr I\Iaclaurin frequently applied them ; and he was equally
zealous in the defence of revealed religion, which he would warmly undertake,
whenever he found it attacked, either in conversation or writing. How firm
his own persuasion of its truth was, appears from the support which it afforded
liim in his last hours.

Among Mr Maclaurin's productions, besides the articles already specified,
was a paper sent to the lloyal Academy of Sciences, at Paris, in the year
17iO, on account of which he shared the prize of the Academy with the
celebrated D. Bernouilli and Euler, for resolving the problems relating to the
motion of the tides, from the theory of gravity — a question whicii had been
given out during the former year, ^vithout receiving any solution. Having only
ten days in which to draw up this paper, he had not leisure to transcribe a fair

HECTOR MACNEIL. 539

copy of it ; so that the Paiis edition of it is incorrect Afterwards, however,
he revised the whole, and inserted it in his Treatise of Fluxions. His con-
tributions to the Philosophical Transactions, may be seen in different volumes
of these collections, from No. 30 to No. 42, both inclusive, and treat on the fol-
lowing subjects: — " Of the Construction and Measure of Curves," — "A New
Method of describing all kinds of Curves," — " On Equations with impossible
Roots,-' — " On the Description of Curves, with an Account of further Improve-
ments, &c." — '' An Account of the Annular Eclipse of the Sun at Edinburgh,
January 27, 1742-3," — " A Rule for finding the Meridianal Parts of a Sphe-
roid, with the same exactness as of a Sphere,"' — And " Of the Bases of the Cells
wherein the Bees deposite their Honey." These papers conclude the list of our
author's writings, which were published during his lifetime. After his death,
the friends, to whose judgment he submitted tlie disposal of his MSS., gave
directions for publishing liis " Treatise of Algebra," and his " Account of
Sir Isaac Newton's Philosophical Discoveries.'' The first of these works, whicli
appeared in 1748, though it had not the advantage to be finished by his own
handsy: is yet allowed to be excellent in its kind ; containing, in one volume,
octavo, of a moderate size, a complete elementary treatise of the science of alge-
bra, as far as it had been hitherto carried. Subjoined to it, by way of appen-
dix, is a Latin tract, ** De Linearum Geometricarum proprietatibus generali-
bus,'' which appears to have been, in our author's judgment, one of the best of
his performances, and in which he employed some of the latest hours that he
could give to such studies, revising it for tlie press, as his last legacy to the
sciences and the public.

MACNEIL, Hectok, a poet and miscellaneous writer, was born at Rosebank,
near Roslin, in the year 1746. His father had been in the army, where he
was patronized by the duke of Argyle, and had mingled in the best company ;
but, having offended his patron by selling out without his advice, he was left
afterwards to his own resources. He took a farm at Rosebank ; but some im-
prudences, and the habit of living in a manner above his income, completely
ruined his prospects. As his family was then large, it became necessary that
the sons should, as soon as possible, be made independent of him. The only
expectation for Hector was from a cousin, who carried on a mercantile concern
in Bristol. The father, therefore, confined his education to the mercantile
branches, dreading, from his own example, the effect of more refined and clas-
sical instruction. The youth discovered excellent parts, with an elegance of
taste which seemed to mark him for a different destination from that intended.
At the age of eleven, he had written a species of drama, in imitation of Gay.
His master earnestly entreated to be allowed to give him some of the higher
branches ; but on this his father put a decided negative. The attachment,
however, of the teacher to his pupil, induced him to impart secretly some ele-
ments of this forbidden knowledge. From the father, meantime, young Mac-
neil received many anecdotes of the world, a high sense of honour, and the
feelings of a gentleman.

As soon as he had completed his fourteenth year, he was sent off to his cousin
at Bristol. On his way, he spent some months at Glasgow, where he completed
himself in several branches of his education. His cousin was a rough, boister-
ous. West India captain, who could not estimate the genius of Macneil, but was
pleased with some instances of his spirit. He first proposed to Hector an ex-
pedition in a slave ship to the coast of Guinea ; but was diverted from it by
some female friends, who rightly judged this destination wholly unsuited to the
youth's disposition. He was, therefore, sent on a voyage to St Christopher's,
with the view of making the sea his profession, if he liked it ; otherwise, he was

510 HECTOR MACNEIL.

fiiniislietl willi an iiitrodiirtioii ton inorcinlilo lions-'. On liis nriivnl, bcinnf com-
pletely (lisi;iislc(l with the sea, lie hesitated not in a<;coi)linj!; the latter alternative,
it is probably to this period of his life, that wo. arc to fix an event of a singular
naliue uliicli is stated to have entirely altered his pmspccts in life. His master
had married a lady miicli younger than himself, and of great personal attrac-
tions ; and young ."Niacneil was upon terms of c(pial intimacy uilii both. One
day, while he was sitting upon a garden diair uith the lady, and reading with
Iier from the snme boolt, tiie ardent feelings of one-and-twenly prompted him to
express his admiration of her beauty, by snatcliing a Kiss. It proved the knell
of liis departing fortune. N'otwithslanding his instant penitence, and entreaties
for forgiveness, the lady conceived it necessary to inform her imsband of what
had happened ; and the immediate coiisequence was, the dismissal of IVlacneil,
and a termination to the prospects tliat were brightening around him. He con-
tinued for many years in the West Indies, but does not appear to have ever
after known what could be called prosperity. At one time, if not during the
whole remaining period of his residence in those colonies, this hapless bard
had to stoop to the ungenial employment of a negro-driver. While in this situ-
ation, he bei;ame a strenuous advocate for the system of West India slavery, and
wrote a pamphlet in its defence. The only tiling which he allowed to be neces-
sary to make the condition of slavery agreeable, wfis an improvement in the
moral conduct of tiie masters : a subsequent age has seen slavery brought to an
end before this improvement \vas accomplished.

Wlien above forty years of age, Macneil returned to Scotland, in a wretched
state of health, and without having earned even a moderate independence. In
these circumstances, notwithstanding that he had many good connexions, and
still preserved tlii feelings of a gentleman and a poet, his situation \\as of a
truly deplorable kind, lie, nevertheless, began to exercise the intellectual fa-
culties, which, though so early displayed, ha<I been kept in a kind of abeyance
(luring the intervening period of his life. In 1789, he published " The Harp,
a Legendary Tale," which brought him into some notice in the literary circles.
Ill 1795, appeared his principal poetical composition, " Scotland's Skaith, or
the History o' Will and Jean ; ower true a Tale," followed next year by a
sequel, entitled " The Waes o' War." Its excellent intention and tendency,
with the strokes of sweet and beautiful pathos with which it abounds, render
this one of ihe most admired productions of the Doric muse of Scotland. Ex-
cept for a simplicity, occasionally degenerating into baldness, which characterizes
this as well as other productions of Macneil, " Will and Jean " might safely bo
compared >vith the happiest ed'orts of any other Scottish poet. The enchanting
influence of vill.ige potations and pf)litics — the deterioration of a worthy rustic
character by such means — the consequent <lespair and degradation of an origin-
ally amiable wife — besides the distresses of the I'lemish campaign of 17 93,
and the subsequent restoration of the ruined family to partial comfort, are all de-
lineated in most masterly style. About the same time, Macneil produced " The
Links of Forth ; or a parting Peep at the Carse of Slirling." This is a descrip-
tive poem ; but, though not devoid of merit, it is more laboured and less pleas-
ing. He wrote also a number of songs, some of wliicii possess much pathos
and delicacy of sentiment. Not being able, however, to find any means of pro-
viding a subsistence, necessity compelled him to seek again the burning climate
of the West Indies. After a residence there of only a year and a half, I\Ir
fjlraliam, an intimate friend, died, and left him an annuity of £100, with which
ho immediately returned to Edinburgh, to enjoy, with this humble indepen-
dence, the sweets of literary leisure and society. His reputation and manner?
procured him ready admittance into the most respccLable circles ; he enjoyed par-

JAMES MACPHERSON. 5il

ticularly the iiitiinacy of Mrs Hamilton, authoress of " The Cottagers of Glon-
buriiie" and other esteemed works of fancy. He was then a tall, fiiie-lookini'
old man, with a very sallow complexion, and a dignified and somewhat austere
expression of countenance. His conversation was graceful and agreeable, sea-
soned with a somewhat lively and poignant satire. Having probably found in his
own iUise, that devotion to the muses did not tend to promote his success in life,
he gave no encouragement to it in others, and earnestly exhorted all who wrote
poetry that appeared to him at ail middling, to betake themselves to some more
substantial occupation. In 1800, he published, anonymously, a novel, or the
lirst part of one, entitled " The ftlemoirs of Charles 3Iacpherson," which is un-
derstood to contain a pretty accurate account of the early part of his own life.
In 1801, his poetical tvorks were collected into two volumes, foolscap 8vo, and
passed through several editions. In 1809, he published " The Pastoral, or
Lyric iMuse of Scotland," in 4to, a work which did not draw much attention.
About the same time, he published, anonymously, " Town Fashions, or Modern
Manners Delineated ;" and also, " By-gone Times, and Late-come Changes."
These pieces, like almost every tiling he wrote, had a moral object ; but
the present one was tinctured with his feelings as an old man. It appeared to
him, that all the clianges which had taken place in society, the increase of
luxury, even the diffusion of linowledge, were manifest corruptions; and all his
anxiety was to inspire a taste for the old style of living. Wishing to suit the
style to the matter, he affected a very homely phraseology ; and as this was not
natural to him, he overdid it, and disgusted rather than persuaded. Yet he
clung very fondly to these bantlings of his old age, and even rated them higher
than the more elegant productions of his foruier pen. Their only real beauty,
though he was insensible of it, consisted in a few pathetic passages. Our author
also wrote, with the same views, and too much in the same style, a novel, en-
titled "The Scottish Adventurers, or the Way to Rise," 2 vols. 8vo, 1812.
Throughout the earlier yeai-s of tiie century, he contributed many mitior pieces,
in prose and verse, to the Scots Magazine, of which he was at one time editor.

After a long life of penury, aggravated by ill health, Mr Macneil died of
jaundice, IMarch 15, 1818, not leaving behind him wherewithal to defray his
funeral expenses.

MACPHERSON, Jamks, a literary character of celebrity, was born at Ruth-
ven, in the county of Inverness, in the latter end of the year 1738. His fami-
ly was one of the most ancient in that part of the country, and of high respec-
tability. The earlier rudiments of education he received at home, and was
afterwards sent to the grammar school of Inverness. At this period he began
to discover a degree of talent which induced his family, contrary to their ori-
ginal intention, to bring him up to a learned profession. With this view lie
was sent, after completing an initiatory course at Inverness, to the university of
Aberdeen, and afterwards to that of Edinburgh, where he linished his studies.

Young Macpherson had ahvady begun to exercise his poetical talents ;
and, while at the university, gave some specimens of his powers in that de-
partment of literature, but wiih very indifferent success. Hitherto, however,
he had confined liis muse to such short and desultory flights, as young men
of poetical temperament usually begin with; but, in 1758, he made a bolder
essay, by producing a poem in six cantos, entitled the " Highlander."
This work was printed at Edinburgh, in 12mo, in the year above named.
Though not without some excellences, the " Highlander," as a whole, is a:i
exceedingly poor production, and must be considered so, even with every
allowance for the youth of its author, who was yet only in the twentieth year
of his ao-e. The public was of a similai- opinion with regard to its merits,

642 JAMES MACPHERSON.

and it nliuost instantly sank into oblivion. It must, liowever, be recorded, to
the credit of the poet, that he very soon became sensible of its defects and defi-
ciencies, and made every endeavour to suppress it. About this time, also, he
wrote an ode on tlie arrival of the earl .Marischal in Scotland, which he en-
titled " An Attempt in the manner of Pindar." This ode, though it certainly
does not possess much poetii^al merit, is yet, on the whole, considerably above
mediocrity. From this period, there is no more heard of Macpherson's poeti-
cal compositions, until he appeared as the translator of those singular poems
on which his celebrity is founded.

It was intended by his friends that he should, on completing his studies, en-
ter the church ; but it is not certainly known whether he ever actually did take
orders or not. He is, however, spoken of about this time, 17G0, as a " young
clergyman ;" and is described by Hume, the celebrated historian, as " a
modest, sensible young man, not settled in any living, but employed as a pri-
vate tutor in Mr Graham of Balgowan's family ; a way of life which he is not
fond of." The notice of Mr Hume was thus directed to Macpherson, in conse-
quence of the appearance of a work bearing the title of" Fragments of Ancient
Poetry, collected in the Highlands of Scotland, and translated from the Gaelic,
or Erse Language," the production of Macpherson, and the first presentation of
that literary novelty which was afterwards to attract so large a portion of the
Avorld's notice, and to excite so much discussion and dissension in its literary
circles.

The '' Fragments " Avere declared to be genuine remains of ancient Celtic
poetry ; and were, as well from that circumstance, as their own intrinsic merit,
received with the utmost enthusiasm and delight. Every one read them, and
every one admired them ; and, altogether, a sensation was created in the world
of letters, which it had known but on few occasions before. As it was inti-
mated that other specimens of this ancient poetry might be recovered, a sub-
scription was immediately begun, to enable IMacpherson to quit his employment as
a family preceptor, and to undertake a mission into the Highlands to secure them.
With the wishes of his patrons on this occasion, the principal of whom were
Dr Blair, Dr Robertson, Dr Carlyle, and Mr Hume, IMacpherson readily com-
plied, and lost no time in proceeding in quest of more " Fragments ;" having
been furnished previously to his setting out with various letters of recommenda-
tion and introduction, from the influential persons just named, to gentlemen
resident in the Highlands.

After making an extensive tour through the mainland and isles, he re-
turned to Edinburgh, and in 1762 presented to the world the first portion
of the results, real or pretended, of his mission. This was " Fingal, an
Ancient Epic Poem, in 6 books; together with several other Poems, com-
posed by Ossian, the son of Fingal : translated from the Gaelic," 4to.
These poems were received with equal, if not yet gi-eater applause, than
that which had hailed the first specimen Macpherson had given of Celtic
poetry. The demand for the work was immense, and the fame of the
translator and saviour, as he was deemed, of these presumed relics of ancient
literature, was rapidly spi-ead-, not only over Britain, but over all Europe.
They were almost immediately translated into nearly every language spoken on
the continent; and in each of these translations, Macpherson was alluded to in
terms, " that might," as he himself says, " flatter the vanity of one fond of
fame," — a circumstance which must have been highly gratifying to him, for he
Avas fond of fame, even inordinately so, and was known to have been under the
influence of a violent passion for literary repute, from a very early period of
his life.

JAMES MACPHERSON. 543

In the following year, viz., 17G3, the poem of Fingal, &c, uas succeeded
by " Temora, in eight books, with other Poems, by Ossian," 4to. This was
also well received, but scarcely witli the same degree of enthusiasm which
had marked the reception of the preceding poems. A change had taken
place, both with regard to Macpherson himself, personally, and his poetry.
A suspicion as to the authenticity of the latter, mes now beginning to steal over
the public mind ; and the former, from being a modest man, as he was repre-
sented to be by Mr Hume, had become insolent and arrogant. Whether this
last was the result of the operation of extraordinary success on an ill-regulated
mind, or the effect of frequent irritation from the attacks of the sceptical, to
which Macpherson was now certainly subjected, it would not, perhaps, be easy
to determine. It probably arose partly from both. The liiielihood that the
latter consideration had, at any rate, some share in producing this change
of demeanour is considerable, when the nature of Olacpherson's disposition,
which was ardent, haughty, impatient and irascible, is taken into account.
That such a change, however, had taken place, is certain ; and the circum-
stance derives no little interest from the person by whom, and the manner in
which it is mai'ked. " You must not mind," says Mr Hume, in a letter to Dr
Blair on the subject of the poems of Ossian, " so strange and heteroclite a
mortal, (Macpherson,) than whom I have scarce ever known a man more per-
verse and unamiable." This was Mr Hume's opinion of him in 1763 ; and it
will be remarked how oddly it contrasts with that which he expressed regard-
ing him in 1760. That Mr Hume, however, saw sufficient reason in Macpher-
son's conduct, thus to alter his opinion of him, no man can doubt, who knows
any thing of the character of the illustrious historian, himself one of the most
amiable of men.

In 1764, the year following that in which Temora appeared, Macpherson
obtained the appointment of secretary to governor Johnstone, then about to set
out for the settlement of Pensacola, of which he was made chief. After a
short residence in the colony, during which he had assisted in the construction
and arrangement of its civil government, a difference arose between Macpher-
son and the governor, and they parted. The former left the settlement, visited
several of the West India islands, and some provinces of North America, and
finally returned to England in 1766.

He now took up his residence in London, and shortly after resumed his
literary pursuits ; these, however, as the Ossianic Poems were now exhausted,
were of an entirely different nature from those which had hitherto employed
him. His first public appearance again as an author, was in 1771, when
he produced a work, entitled " An Introduction to the History of Great Bri-
tain and Ireland," 4to. This work, he says himself, he composed merely
for private amusement. Whatever were the incitements which led to its
production, necessity, at any rate, could not have been amongst the num-
ber ; for Macpherson, if not already comparatively wealthy, was rapidly be-
coming so by the extensive sale of the poems. Whether written, how-
ever, for amusement, or with a view to fame, the author of the " Introduc-
tion" had no reason to congratulate himself on the result of its publication.
Both the book and the writer were attacked from various quarters with
much bitterness of invective, and a controversy regarding its merits and the
opinions it promulgated, arose, which was but little calculated to improve the
irritable temper of its author, or to add to his happiness. Nor was this ti-eat-
ment compensated by any success to the work itself. It made a suflicient noise ;
but yielded neither fame nor profit. The former was the result of its author's
celebrity ; the latter, it is to be feared, of his incapacity.

544 JA^IES MACPHERSON.

In an evil lu)iir for Iiis literary lejuitation, i\Inc|ilicrs()n, willi nioro (roiilidenrfi
than wisdom, began a translation of the lliail of lloiiior. 'I his woik he rom-
l)Ietcd, and qave to the noihl in 1773. I(s lereplion «as mortifying in the
extreme. -Men of learning laughcil at it, critics abiisml it ; and, notuitiistand-
ing some strenuous ellorts on the part of his friends, jtarticularly Sir John
LUiot, it hnaliy sank under one univci-sal shout of oxeitration and contempt.
Tho finishing blow to tliis production was inflicted hy the Critical lieview, in
which it was ably and fatally criti<;ise<I.

" There is nothing," says one of the most able and elegant of Blacphcrson's
ronmientators, \h- (iraham, the late learned minister of Aberfoyle, " there is
nothing wliich serves to set IMacpherson's character and powers in a stronger
light than his egregious attempt to render the great father of poetry into prose,
liowevor natural it might have been for him to have made tills attempt, after
his success in doing tiie same office to Ossian." The temerity of this attempt
will not be deemed a little enhanced by the consideration that Pope's elegant
translation was already before the world, nor will the awkwardness of its failure be
thought lessened by a recollection of tiie sentiment its author himself expressed
on another occasion, viz., that he " would not deign to translate Avhat he could
not imitate, or even equal.'' This unguarded language was now recollected to
his prejudice, and carefully employed by his enemies to increase the disgrace
of his failure.

To add to the literary rnortifiCTtions under which Macpherson was now suf-
fering, he found himself attacked by Ur Johnson in his celebrated Tour to
the Hebrides, published in 1773, on the subject of the authenticity of his
translations of Ossian. The remarks of the gieat moralist, as' is well known,
are not confined, in this case, to an abstract discussion of the question, but in-
clude some severe, though certainly not unnierited personal reflections on the
translator.

These the latter reicnted so highly that he immediately wrote <i threaten-
ing letter to their author, who replied in spirited and still more severe and
earcastic language than he had employed in his published strictures, saying
amongst other humiliating things, " your abilities since your Homer are not so
formidable." To this letter IMacpherson wisely made no reply, and is not
known to have taken any further notice of it than by assisting jM'Nicol in his
" Hemarks on Dr Johnson's Tour," printed in 177-i. Even of this, however, he
is only suspected, there being no positive proof that he actually had any share
in that production.

Although thus thanklessly acknowledged, Macpherson still continued his
literary labours, and in 1775, published " The History of Great Britain, from
the liesloration to the accession of the house of Hanover," in 2 vols. ito.

Soon after the publication of this work another favourable change took place
in the fortunes of its author, and opened up to him a new source of emolument.
He was selected by the government, at this time embanassed by the resistance
of the American colonies to its authority, to defend and give force to the
reasons Avhich influenced its px'oceedings with regard to that country. In the
discharge of this duty, he wrote a pamphlet entitled, "The Rights of Great
Britain asserted against the claims of the Colonies," Svo. 177G. This pamphlet
was circulated with great industry, and ran through several editions. He also
wrote " A Short History of the Opposition during the Inst session of parliament,''
Svo. 1779. The merit of this last production was so remarkable, that it was,
at the time, generally ascribed to the pen of Gibbon, a compliment A\hich, how-
ever, it is very questionable if its real author appreciated.

About this period IMacpl'.erson's good fortune was still further increased by

JAMES MACPHERSON. 545

his being appointed .igent to the Nnbob of Arcot, in belialf of whom he made
several effective appeals to the public, and amongst others published " Letters
from Mahommed Ali Chan, Nabob of Arcot, to the court of Directoi-s. To
which is annexed a State of facts relative to Tanjore, with an Appendix of ori-
ginal papers," 4to, 1777. He is also supposed to have been the author of
" The History and Alanagement of the Fast India Company, from its origin in
IGOO, to the present times ; vol. i. containing the affairs of the Carnatic, in
which the rights of the Nabob are explained, and the injustice of the Company
proved," 4to. 1779.

It was noAv thought advisable that IMacpherson, in capacity of agent to the
Nabob, should be provided with a seat in parliament, and he was accordingly
returned member for Camelford in 1780, and was reelected for the same
place io 1784 and 1790. He, however, never made any attempt to speak in the
house, so that the cause of the eastern potentate, whatever it may have gained
from his influence abstractly as n member of pax-liament, was nothing forward-
ed by his oratory. The period, however, was now rapidly approaciiing when
this anil all other earthly matters were no longer to be of any concernment to
him. His health now began gradually to fail, and continued to decline till the
year 179G, when he became so seriously ill, that it was thought advisable, as all
other means were found unavailing, that he should i-eturn to his native country,
and try the effect of a change of air. He accordingly pi'oceeded to Scotland ;
but died in the same year, on the 17th February, at his seat of Bellville in the
shire of Inverness, in the 58th year of his age.

Macpherson died in opulent circumstances, leaving by his will, dated June
1793, legacies and annuities to various persons to a large amount. Amongst
his other bequests there is one of particular interest from its connexion with the
celebrated works to which he owes his celebrity, and from its bearing on a cir-
cumstance which created one of the most memorable civil wars, in the literary
Avorld, upon record — the question of the authenticity of Ossian's poems.

This bequest comprised the sum of £lOf)0, payable to John Mackenzie of
Fig-tree Court, in the Temple, to defray the expense of printing and publish-
ing Ossian in the original. Macpherson also directed by his will, that the sum
of £300 should be expended in erecting a monument to his memory in some
conspicuous situation at Bellville, and that his body should be carried to London
and be inten-ed in Westminster Abbey. Tliis was complied with, and he was
buried in Foet's Corner.

The preceding sketch, brief as it is, comprehends nearly all of any interest
with which the life of Macpherson presents us, and affords in that brevity
another instance of the utter disproportion which is so often found to exist be-
tween the bulk of a man's personal history and that of his fame, — how much
may be afforded in one and the same life, to the essayist, philosopher,
cr moralist, and how little to the biographer.

One point of interest in Macpherson's life, however, and without some al-
lusion to which any account of it would be incomplete, has been hitherto left all
but untouclied in this sketch, and that purposely ; as it was thought better to
give it a distinct and separate place at the conclusion than to inteiTupt the bio-
graphical narrative by its earlier introduction.

Ihe circumstance alluded to is the celebrated controversy regarding the au-
thenticity of Macpherson's translations of the Foems of Ossian,— a controversy
which, whether its voluminous amount is considered, the extremely opposite and
conflicting testimony by which it is supported, or the various and widely scattered
members of Mhich it is composed, cannot be approached without hesitation.
The fervour with which it was once attended has long since altogether dis-

540 JAMES MACPHERSON.

nppearctl, and but little now remains even of tli8 interest with which tlic
niodtetl point was associated. I'ew, in short, now care any thing at all about
the matter, and even tlioiigh it A\ero desirable, it would be impoEsible to resus-
citate the intense feeling with wliich it was once contemplated, 'lliis apathy,
however, singularly contrasts with the violent commotion and furious zeal
whidi tlie dis(Uission of the momentous question excited in tlie public mind
some fifty or sixty years since. It was then an universal topic, of conversation
in private circles, while the literary arena was crowded with combatants eager
for tlic contest, and inspired, if their feelings may bo judged by their language,
witli the most cordial hatred towards each other. Fresh champions of tlie op-
posite creeds followed each other in endless succession, as their predecessors re-
tired, exhausted or defeated, from the lists.

At one moment the authenticity of the poems seemed established beyond all
doubt ; in the next it was made still more clear that they were the most im-
pudent forgeries that were ever ijnposed upon the credulity of the literary
world. These were the results of the labours of the more active and zealous
partisans of the denying and believing factions ; but there were others again,
who did not strictly belong to either, and these, taking arguments from both
sides, succeeded, with much ingenuity, in involving the question in an obscurity
from which it has not emerged to this day.

The Ossianic controversy, like all other controversies, soon became personal,
and in nearly every case the discussion of the point exhibited fully as much abuse
as arguments. During all this time JMacpherson himself, the cause of all this
bitterness of spirit and uncharitableness, and the only person \\ho could have al-
layed it, kept sullenly aloof, and refused to produce that evidence which alone
could restore the peace of the literary world, and which he yet declared he pos-
sessed. Notwithstanding the celebrity, however, which he was thus acquir-
ing, his situation, in other respects, was by no means an enviable one. By
those who did not believe in the authenticity of the poems, he was reviled as an
impudent, unprincipled impostor; by those who did, he was charged with
being a bungling, unskilful translator ; and by both he was abused for his
obstinacy in refusing to come forward with his testimony in the cause in
dispute.

Before proceeding to take a nearer view of the Ossianic controversy itself,
there will be no impropriety in alluding to certain opinions, regarding the sub-
ject of it, which have now pretty generally obtained. These are, that it is of
little moment whether the poems are genuine or not, and that they are not, af-
ter all, worthy, in point of merit, of the notice they have attracted, or of the
discussion and dissension they have created. With regard to the last, it is mat-
ter of opinion, and must always remain so, since it cannot be decided by any
rule of taste. The first, again, involves a sentiment more specious perhaps than
profound ; for, besides the consideration that truth is at ail times and in all
cases better than falsehood, and possesses an intrinsic value which in almost
every instance renders it worthy of being sought for, the investigation into the
authenticity of the Poems of Ossian involves, in the language of the ingenious
commentator already named, matter of importance to the " general history of
literature, and even that of the human race."

Whatever weigiit, however, may be allowed to these considerations, it is cer-
tain that fllacpherson's Poems of Ossian have lost a vei-y large portion of the
popularity whicli they once enjoyed, and are evidently losing more every day.
The rising generation do not seem to have that relish for their beauties, or
rather do not see those beauties in them which captivated their fathers, and this
can be ascribed only, either to a change in literary taste, or to some defect or

JAMES MACPHERSON. 547

defects in the poems themselves, which improved intellectual culture has de-
tected ; for it is the result of an opinion formed on their abstract merits as
literary compositions, and is wholly unconnected with the question of their au-
thenticity, that now being considered a point of such indifference, as to be but
rarely taken into account in the decision. The book is now taken up,
without a thought being wasted on the consideration whether it be the
production of Ossian or Macpherson, and is judged of by its own intrinsic
value ; and tested in this Avay, it would appear that it has been found want-
ing : a result which seems to show that the greatest charm of tiie poems, even at
the time when they were most appreciated, co-existed with tlie belief tiiat they
were genuine relics of antiquity ; that it was inseparable from this belief, tiiat
it was born of it, fostered by it, and perished with it; that, in short, it lived
and died with it, and was exactly proportioned to its strength and its weakness.

Of the controversialists in this celebrated literary war the list is both long
and illustrious, and comprehends some of the proudest names of which this
country has to boast. Amongst these occur those of Dr Blair, Dr Gregory, lord
Karnes, Hume, and Dr Johnson. The most remarkable next to these were^ Dr
Smith of Campbelltown, Dr Graham of Aberfoyle, Sir John Sinclair, Mr Laing,
author of " Notes and Illustrations " introduced into an edition of Ossian's Poems,
published in Edinburgh in 1805; Mr Alexander Macdonald, author of a work
entitled *' Some of Ossian's lesser poems rendered into verse, with a preliminary
discourse in answer to Mr Laing's Critical and Historical Dissertations on the an-
tiquity of Ossian's Poems," 8vo, Liverpool, 1805 ; and W. Shaw, A.M., author of
" An Inquiry into the Authenticity of the Poems of Ossian," London, 1781.
There were besides these a host of others, but of lesser note. Of those just
named, there were six who may be said, generally speaking, to Jiave been in favour
of the authenticity of the poems, and five against it. The former were Dr Blair,
Dr Gregory, lord Karnes, Dr Graham, Sir John Sinclair, and Qlr Macdonald.
The latter, Mr Hume, Dr Johnson, Mr Laing, Dr Smith, and Mr Shaw.

Here, then, we are startled at the very outset by the near approach to equality
in the amount of intelligence and talent which appears aiTayed on either side ;
nor is this feeling greatly lessened in comparing the evidence adduced by each
party in support of their opposite opinions, and in confutation of those of their
opponents. Both seem conclusive when taken separately, and both defective
when placed in juxta-position.

Although, however, two classes only of controversialists have been made
above, there were actually four, or rather the two given are found on closer in-
quiry to be again subdivided — of the believers, into those whose opinion of the
authenticity of the poems was unqualified, and those again who believed them
to he authentic only to a certain extent, Avhile the remainder were interpola-
tions by the translator. Of the former were Blair, Gregory, lord Kames, Sir
John Sinclair, and Macdonald. Of the latter was Dr Graham, and though only
one, he was yet the representative of a large body who entertained a similar
opinion. Of the disbelievers, again, there were those who utterly denied their
authenticity ; and those who, entertaining strong doubts, did not yet go the
whole length of rejecting them as spurious. Of the first were Dr Johnson,
Laing, and Shaw. Of the last, Mr Hume, and Dr Smith.

The controversy thus stands altogether upon four separate and distinct
grounds. These are, first, an entire and unqualified belief in the authenticity
of the poems ; second, a belief that they are in part genuine, and in part
spurious, including a charge of interpolation and false translation ; third,
much doubt, but no certainty ; and, fourth, a thorough conviction of their
being wholly forgeries.

548 JAMES MACPIIERSON.

Tlio j)rinripal .nij^mncnts ndJiiced in support of tlic fii-st opinion, are — Uiat
ilio poeuis bear intoinal ovideixe of anlicpiity ; — tlial tlicir originals are or
were well known in llie lliglilands, and lliat lliero ueic ninny pursons there
who could repeat large ])ortions of tlicni ; that IMacpherson's talents, judging
ly his own original works, the Highlander, Translation of the Iliad, 6cc,
were not ecpial to the prodmlion of poems of such transcendent merit as those
ascribed to (Jssian ; that many credible witnesses were present, on various occa-
sions, when 3Iacplieison was put in ])nssession of these poems, orally and by
]\IS. ; and, lastly, that the originals themselves are now belore the world.

Willi regard to the internal evidence of the genuineness of these poems, it is
to be feared that this is a thing more ingenious than sound ; and, like the
imaginary figures tliat present themselves in the fire, is more easily described
than pointed out. It will, at any rate, scarcely be deemed sufficient proof,
that the poems in question are ancient, merely because they bear no likeness to
any that are modern.

Dr Blair's celebrated dissertation on this subject, and on the authenticity of
the poems generally, is much more elegant, ingenious, and learned, than con-
vincing ; and appears, after all, to establish little more, indeed little more
seems aimed at, than that the poems may and should be ancient, not that they
are. To those who think that the absence of all modern allusion in the poems,
and the exclusive use which is made of natural imagery, without one single ex-
ception, is a proof of their antiquity, the argument of internal evidence will
have, no doubt, considerable weight ; but there are others who see in this
circumstance only caution and dexterity on the part of Macpherson, and who,
in consequence, instead of reckoning it an evidence of liis veracity, consider
it but as a proof of his ingenuity.

As to the assertion, again, that the originals \vere well known in the High-
lands, and that there were many persons there who could repeat them. This,
on inquiry, turns out to mean only, that fragments of (jaelic poetry, — not entire
poems, as given by Macpherson, but certainly, such as they Avere, of undoubted
antiquity, — were to be met with in the Highlands. That such were, and prob-
ably are to be found there even to this day, is undeniable ; but, in the first
place, they Iiave been in no instance found in the complete state in which they
appear in the translations, but disjointed and disconnected, and, still worse,
bearing only in a few instances any more than a resemblance to the English
poems. In large portions, even this is entirely wanting. The originals, then,
in the only sense in which that word ought to be used, cannot, with truth, be
said to have existed in the Highlands. Fragments of ancient poetry, as al-
ready said, did indeed exist there, but not the mass of poetry given to the
world by Macpherson as the Poems of Ossian, and said by him to have been
collected in the Highlands. The assertion, therefore, has been made, either
witli a view to deceive, or without a due consideration of the meaning of the
terms in which it is conveyed.

The argument deduced from Macpherson's talents, as exhibited in his ori-
ginal Avorks, to show that he could not be the author of the poems in question,
is plausible ; but the premises on which it is founded, are by no means of so
incontrovertible a nature as to give us implicit confidence in the conclusion.
That a literary man may utterly fail in one or more instances, and be eminently
successful in anollier, is perfectly consistent with experience. It has often hap-
pened, and is, therefore, not more extraordinary in Macpherson's case, s'lppos-
ing him to be the author, and not merely the translator of the poems ascribed
to Ossian, than in many others that could be named. Besides, something like a
reason is to ba found for his success in this species of composition, in the

JAMES MACPIIERSON.

549

fact that, from liis earliest years lie was an enthusiastic admirer of Celtic lore ;
and that its poetry, in particular, was one of his constant and most agreeable
studies. This argument, then, can have no great weight, unless it be deemed
an impossibiiitv, that a man who had failed in one or more literary attempts,
sliould be successful in another; an assertion which, it is believed, few will be
iiardy enough to venture, and which, it is certain, fewer still will be able to
make good.

With regard to that part of the controversy where evidence is produced by
credible, and, in several of the instances, certainly highly respectable witnesses,
of Macpherson's having been put in possession, in their presence, of various
poems ascribed to Ossian, both oral and written ; — without questioning the
credibility of these witnesses, an important objection may be fairly brought
against the nature of their evidence. It is liable to that charge of generality
which Mr Hume thought, and every impartial person must tliink, ought to be
considered " as being of no authority." In no single instance is any particular
poem, or any particular part of a poem, distinctly traced by such evidence from
its original possessor to the pages of 3Iacpherson's volumes. Not one of them
lias stated the resulu of what came under his own observation, in any thing
like such plain terms as " I saw, or heard iVIacpherson put in possession of the
first duan of Cath-loda ; I read it over carefully at the time, and I assert that
the English poem of that name wliich he has given, is a translation of the
same." The witnesses alluded to, have said nothing like this. The amount of
their evidence is, that it consists with their knowledge that Macpherson did obtain
Gaelic poems, when in the Highlands. They saw him get some in MS., and
they were present when otliers were recited to him. But here their testimony
terminates; and in no case have the poems been further identified in the
English dress with these which he procured on theae occasicns, than as bear-
ing, in some instances, a general resemblance to them. The extent to whiili
IMacpherson made use of what they saw him get, or, indeed, what use he made
of it at all, they have not said, because they could not; for, although he car-
ried away the originals, they did rot, and could not, therefore, ascertain, by
the only process by which it could with certainty be ascertained, by collation,
what he had omitted, or what he had retained; what he had changed, or what
lie had left unaltered.

We come now to the last proof exhibited in support of the authenticity of the
English poems of Ossian, and it is by far the most startling of the whole. It
would seem, indeed, were it adopted without examination, to set the question
for ever at rest, and to place it beyond the reach of all further controvei'sy.
'I'his proof is the " Originals" published by Sir John Sinclair ia ISOG, an evi-
dence which certainly appears, at first sight, conclusive ; but what is the fact?
They are not originals, in so far as the written poetry which IMacpherson ob-
tiined is concerned ; for they are all in his own hand-writing, or that of his
amanuensis. The term oriyinal, therefore, in this case, can only be applied to
^^lIat he wrote down from oral commvnication ; and it will at once be perceiv-
ed how much their evidence is already weakened by this limitation of the mean-
ing of the word original, as employed by Sir Jolin Sinclair. How far, again, it
nuiy be relied upon as applied to the oral communications which IMacpherson
received, must entirely depend upon the degree of faith which is put in his in-
tegrity. He has said that they are the originals, but this is all we have for
it, and by many, we suspect, it will scarcely be deemed sufficient. He
had a control over these documents which greatly lessens, if it does not
wholly destroy all faith in them as evidences; while his interest in produc-
ing them, must lay them open, under all circumstances, to the strongest

550 JAMES MACPriERSON.

suspicions. But it is said, that it is not likely that he would I)e at the trouble
of going' throiigli so laborious a process as ibis, inerolj tosujjport an iinposture^ —
that, tliough willing, he wns, from his want of skill in the <iaelic. language, unfit
for the task, and could not have produced poems in that language of such merit
as those Avhich he gave as originals — that the (iaeli<; poems are superior to the
English — and lastly, that from imi>artial and critical examination, tlie former
must have been anterior to t!ie latter. AVitli regard to the first of these asser-
tions, it seems to bo merely gratuitous, as it rests upon a question which INlac-
pliersori himself alone could determine, and can, therefore, be of no weight as
an argument. That IMacpherson was greatly depKiient in critical knowledge of
the Gaelic language, and that he could not consequently produce poems in that
language of such merit as those which he represents as the originals of Ossian, is
certain, because it is established by the clearest evidence, and by the concurring
testimony of several eminent Gaelic scholars; but although he could not do this
himself, he could employ others to do it, and it is well known that he was inti-
mate, and in close correspondence with several persons critically skilled in the
Gaelic language, of whose services he availed himself frequently, and largely,
when preparing his " Translations." Blight he not have had recourse to the
same aid in translating from the English to the (iaelic? Dr Johnson thought
so. " I am far from certain," says the sagacious moralist, " that some transla-
tions have not been lately made that may now be obtrude<l as parts of the origi-
nal work." In truth, the presumption that Macpherson did procure Gaelic
translations to be made from the English, is exceedingly strong, as will appear
from various circumstances yet to be alluded to. At all events, it does not seem
by any means an inevitable conclusion, that because he was not himself capable
of writing what are called the originals, they are, therefore, original. But
the strongest part of the argument in favour of their originality yet remains.
It is said that tlie Gaelic is superior to the Englisli, and that on an impartial
and critical examination, it appears that the former must have been anterior to
the latter. Now, the first of these is again matter of opinion, and as such, en-
titled to no more consideration than opinions generally deserve. To many their
merits will appear on the whole pretty equal ; to otliers, the Gaelic will, in
some instances, seem the more beautiful ; and in some, again, the English. The
second assertion, hoAvever, is not of this description. It is not founded on
opinion, but on an alleged positive internal evidence. It is to be legretted,
however, that that evidence had not been pointed out in more specific terms
than those employed — that it had not been distinctly said what are those
particular circumstances which, on a perusal, establish the relative ages of the
Gaelic and English versions; for, on an impartial and critical examination lately
made by a person eminently skilled in the Gaelic language, for the express
purpose of ftu'nishing information for this article, it does not appear, at least
from any thing he could discover, that the Gaelic poems must, of necessity, have
preceded tli« English. They certainly contain nothing that shows the contrary —
nothing that discovers them to be of modern composition ; but neither do Mac-
pherson's English poems of Ossian. Neither of them betray themselves by any
slip or inadvertency, and this, negative as it is, is yet all that can be said of
both as to internal evidence.

What has just been said, includes nearly all the leading and direct arguments
which have been employed in the defence of the authenticity of Macpherson's
translations of the Boenis of Ossian, and nearly all that can be urged against
that belief, with the exception of that which may be deduced from Macpherson's
own conduct in relation to the question, and which shall be afterwards refer-
red to.

JAMES MACPHERSON. 551

We come now to consider the grounds of the belief, that the poems are in
part genuine, and in part spurious; including- a charge of interpolation, and of
false translation. What has been already said having necessarily included all
the ramifications of the controversy, the consideration of this point need not
detain us long, for happily the evidence is not only quite at hand, but of the
most conclusive and satisfactory description. That some portion of Macpher-
son's English poems are genuine, at least in so far as that can be considered
genuine, of \vhich the utmost that the committee of the Highland Society found
themselves warranted in saying, after much and careful inquiry, was, tliat it bore
a strong resemblance to certain fragments which they themselves had obtain-
ed, is beyond doubt, Blacpherson, as before said, certainly did gather some
scraps of poetry in the Highlands, and as certainly did make some use of them
in the composition of his poems. But that he introduced a great deal of his
own, tliat he interpolated, and that he translated falsely the little he got, is
equally certain. The fact is incontrovertibly established by Dr Graham, to
whose able work on the subject, entitled " An Essay on the Authenticity of the
Poems of Ossian," we refer the reader for more full information, and is thus
confirmed by the committee of the Highland Society, who, after stating in their
Report that they had " not been able to obtain any one poem the same in title
or tenor with the poems published by him," proceed to say, " It (the commit-
tee) is inclined to believe that he (Macpherson) was in use to supply chasms, and
to give connexion, by inserting passages which he did not find, and to add
what lie conceived to be dignity and delicacy to the original composition, by
striking out passages, by softening incidents, by refining the language, in
short, by changing what he ox)nsidered as too simple or too rude for a modern
ear, and elevating what, in his opinion, was below the standard of good poetry,"
What iumiediately follows this sentence, though not relevant to the point imme-
diately under discussion is too important to be passed over. The committee
goes on to say, " To what degree, however, he exercised these liberties, it is
impossible for the Committee to determine." Now, this means, if it means any
thing, that the interpolations were such close imitations of the original, that, of
the whole poems, it was impossible to distinguish which Avas Ossian's and which
Macpherson's ; therefore, that the poetry of the latter was as good as that of
the former. An admission this, that would seem to settle the point of Mac-
pherson's ability to forge the poems, a point so strongly insisted upon by the
defenders of their authenticity, by showing that he was competent to write
them, and, in accordance with this, it may be asked, if he wrote a part thus
excellently, Avhy might he not have written the whole ? Dr Graham, it is true,
has, in several instances, detected " Macpherson's bombast," but this only shows
that Macpherson has occasionally fallen into an error, which it was next to im-
possible to avoid altogether in a work written in the peculiar style of Ossian's
poems.

There still, however, remains one overpowering circumstance, which, if there
were no other evidence against the fidelity of Macpherson, would probably be
held by most unprejudiced inquirers as quite conclusive of the whole question.
The " Originals" correspond exactly with the " Translations,'' in language, and
indeed in every point. How can this be reconciled to the fact admitted by
Macpherson himself, that he took certain liberties with the original Gaelic ?
The " Originals," when published, might have been expected to exhibit such
differences with the " Translations," as would arise from Mr Macpherson's la-
bours as an emendator and purifier of the native ideas. But they do not exhibit
any traces of such dift'erence. The unavoidable conclusion is, that the Origi-
nals, prepared by Macpherson, and published by Sir John Sinclair, were cither

552 JAMES MACPHERSON.

.■lUogctliei- a forgery, or were accmiiiiiotlatcd to llie Translalions, by sudi a pro-
cess as entirely to destroy their credit, and render tlieir puLilication useless.

We shall now proceed to take a view of the conduct of JMacpherson himself,
in so far as it relates to tlie controversy which he had been the means of excit-
ing, and when we do this, wo siiail find liiat whether lie really was an impos-
tor or no, in the matter of the poems, he pursued exactly the course, with
regard to them and the public, which an impostor would have done. He wr.s
accused of being guilty of an imposition. He took no steps to rebut the charge.
He w;is solicited to give proofs of the authenticity of the poems. He refuse<l,
and for upwards of thirty years submitted to wear the dress of a bankrupt in
integrity, without making any attempt to get rid of it. He affected, indeed, a
virtuous indignation, on all occasions, when the slightest insinuation was made
that an imposition had been practised; and, instead of calmly exhibiting the
proofs of his innocence, he got into a passion, and thus silenced, in place of s.i-
tisfying inquiry. " To revenge," says Ur Johnson, speaking of Macpherson's
conduct in this matter, " reasonable incredulity, by refusing evidence, is a dc-
gi'ce of insolence, with which the Avorld is not yet acquainted ; and stubborn
audacity is the last refuge of guilt."

A suspicion of the authenticity of the poems almost immediately followed the
appearance of those published in 17G2, and the first public notice taken of it
by Macpherson himself, occurs in 17(33, in liis preface to Temora, published in
that year. He there says, " Since the publication of the last collection of
Ossian's poems, many insinuations have been njade, and doubts arisen, concern-
ing their authenticity. I shall probably hear more of the same kind after the
present poems make their appearance. AVhether these suspicions are suggested
by prejudice, or are only the efiects of ignorance of facts, 1 shall not pretend to
determine. To me they give no concern, as I liave it always in my power to
remove them. An incredulity of this kind is natural to persons who confine
all merit to their own age and country. These are gene»-ally the weakest, as
well as the most ignorant of the people. Indolently confined to a place, their
ideas are very narrow and circumscribed. It is ridiculous enough to see such
people as these are branding their ancestors with the despicable appellation of
barbarians. Sober reason can easily discern where the title ought to be fixed with
more propriety. As prejudice is always the eflect of ignorance, the knowing, the
men of true taste, despise and dismiss it. If the poetry is good, and the charac-
ters natural and striking, to these it is matter of inditl'erence, whether the heroes
were born in the little village of Angles, in Jutland, or natives of the barren heaths
of Caledonia. That honour which nations derive from ancestors worthy or re-
nowned, is merely ideal. It may buoy up the minds of individuals, but it con-
tributes very little to their importance in the eyes of others. But of all these
prejudices which are incident to narrow minds, that which measures the merit
of performances by the vulgar opinion concerning the country which produced
them, is certainly the most ridiculous. Hidiculous, however, as it is, few have
the courage to reject it; and I am thoroughly convinced, that a few quaint lines
of a lloman or (ireek epigrammatist, if dug out of the ruins of Herculaneuni,
would meet with more cordial and univei'sal applause, than all the most beau-
tiful national rhapsodies of all the Celtic bards and Scandinavian scalds
that ever existed." This, it is presumed, will be thought rather an odd reply
to the doubts entertained concerning the authenticity of the poems ; or rather
it will be thought to be no reply at all. It is all very well as to reasoning and
writing ; but, it w ill be perceived, wonderfully little to the purpose. All that
he condescends to say, in this rhapsody, to the point at issue — the " doubts" — is,
that he "lias it aluajs in-his power to remove them." But he made no use of

JOHN MAIR. 553

this power llien, nor at any period during his after life, though urged to it by
motives which gentlemen and men « f honour have been always accustomed to
hold as sacred.

Wlien pressed by the committee of tiie Highland Society of London, to pub-
lish tl'.e originals, and thus satisfy tlie public mind as to the authenticity of th.e
poems, Macphcrson thus replies to the secretary of tliat body: — " I shall adhere
to the promise I made several years ago to a deputation of the same kind, [in
their anxiety to have the question set at rest, they had proposed that another
deputation should wait upon liim for this purpose,] that is, to employ my first
leisure time, and a considerable portion of time it must be, to do it accurately,
in arranging and printing the originals of the Poems of Ossian, as they have
come to my hands." The delay here acknowledged, a delay of several years,
and the furtlier delay bespoken, as it were, in this extract, between the promise
of giving the originals to the uorld and its fulfilment, will seem to many sus-
picious circumstances, and will appear rather a necessary provision for getting
lip a translation from tha English, than for the preparation of original docu-
ments. Nor is this suspicion lessened by his telling us, that they were yet to
arrange ; a process Avhich it will be thought must of necessity have taken place
before tliey were translated. It seems odd that the translations should be in
perfect order, while the originals were in confusion. The mere disarrange-
ment of sheets of MS., from passing through tiie hands of the printer, or from
inattention, could scarcely warrant the formidable and cautious provision of " a
considerable portion of time."

The fact of IMacpherson having interpolated, although it could not have been
ascertained by other evidence, would be sufticiently established by his own.
When taxed by Dr Macintyre of Glenorchy with being himself the author of
the greater part of tiie Poem of Fingal — " You are mucii mistaken," replied
Macpherson ; " I had occasion to do less of that than you suppose." Thus ad-
mitting the fact, and only limiting its extent.

On the whole, it seems, on a careful revision of all that has been said on
this once famous controversy, beyond all doubt that Macpherson is, in nearly
the strictest sense of the word, the author of the English Poems of Ossian. The
skeleton was furnished him, but it was he who clothed it with flesh, en-
dued it with life, and gave it the form it now wears. He caught the tone
and spirit of the Celtic lyre, from hearing its strings vibrating in tlie Avind.
Tiie starting note was given him, but the strain is liis own. Whatever degree
of merit, therefore, may be allowed to these strains, belongs to Macpherson.

MAHl, or MAJOR, John, a celebrated name of the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries. Little of the life of this eminent person is known, beyond a few
incidental circumstances mentioned in his own works, and some allusions by
contemporary scholars. Dr Mackenzie and other writers not to be depended
on, have stated, without reference to any authority, that he was born in the
year 1469. His birth-place, by his own account, was the parish of North
Berwick, and is said to liave been at the village of Gleghorn. In the early
part of the sixteenth century he became a member of Christ's college in Cam-
bridge.^ " In this post," says bishop Nicholson, " he seems to have written

' He afterwards went to the univeivit}' of Paris. Mackenzie, vyIio has corrected his life of
Major in the pref iCe to his work, on the giouiid of some communiaitions received fioni
Paris, sa}s lie joined the university in 1493, and became master of arts in 1496. " I\Ir John
Harvey," continues tiiis authority, "a Scotsman and bursar, or fellow of the Scots college,
being then rector of the universiiy of Paris, he passed through all the honourahle places of
the faculty of arts , being fust procurator and then quajslor-, and designs himself thus in
the Itegister, ' M. Joanms Mair, Gligernocensis, Diocesis S. Andrea;,' He was made doctor
of divinity in 1508.'' — Mackenzie's Lues, vol. ii. Prejace, vii.

651 JOHN MAIR.

his history, vhidi, as he ncknouledges, was penned in the yonr 1518, the
seventh of king James llie fifth's age."' IMatkenzie says lio left I'aris iiiiniedi-
ntoly on having written liis liistory, and in llio year mentioned we know him
to have been in Scotland, as lie was tlien incorpoiatcd a mt-ndjer of tlie univer-
sity of Cilasgow, and bore tiie titles of ('anon if tlie <;lia|>el royal, and virar or
Dunloj), wliile lie is termed " Doctor I'arisiensis."'' In 1521, tlie same author-
ity shows him to Iiave been professor of theology in G]asgo>v, and one of tbe
" Intrantcs" and " Deputali Kec.toris ;" prctbably jterforming, in the latter capa-
city, the duties now performed, or presumed to be performed by the assessors of
the rector. During that year his well known work, '* De (jestis Scotorum," was
piiblished in Paris by lladius Ascensius, tlie same person who afterwards publislied
the history of Hector lioece. He is said by I?ayle to bave written " stylo Sor-
bonico," a characteristic not intended as a compliment. The Latinity of this work
has been censured by scholars ; but tlie matter which it clotiies, if not likely to
repay a reader of the present age for the labour of perusal, presents us with much
contempt of prejudices common to the age ; considerable knowledge of the
grounds of histori('al truth, and a mass of curious information, sometimes of that
petty and domestic nature, which is valuable because it is so generally omitted
by others. His notices of the state and value of provisions, and of local customs
might be valuable to the political economist and antiquary. He has shown much
sound sense in rejecting a mass of the fables narrated by his precursors in his-
tory, AVyntoun and Fordun, believing the tale of Gathelus coming from Greece,
to have been invented for the purpose of excelling the I'nglish who brought
their " Brute " or "Brutus" from Troy, the Greeks being, as all history and
poetry must testify, a far more respectable source of ancestry than the Trojans.
Of the race of kings, amounting to about forty-five, betwixt Fergus I. and
Fergus U., now blotted from the list, he mentions, and that but slightly, only
three or four. On this subject Dr Mackenzie, who wislies to speak favourably
of the subject of his memoir, while he has a still higher respect for the anti-
quity of his native land, remarks, in a tone of chagrin, " in his account of our
monarchs, of fifteen kings, that he only acknowledges to have been between
Fergus I. and II., he mentions not above three or four of them ; and it plainly
appears," continues the doctor, drawing the proper deduction, " from the whole
tract of his history, that it was not drawn out of ancient and authentic monu-
ments, for he cites none of them, but from the historians above quoted." * The
views of civil liberty inculcated in this work surprise us when Ave consider the
period and state of society at which it was written, and they would certainly at
the present juncture be termed philosophically just. If a man of so original a
mind as Buchanan may be supposed to have derived his political sentiments
from an inferior genius, it is not improbable that the doctrines of kingly po^ver
so beautifully illustrated in the dialogue " De Jure Kegni apud Scotos " may
have been imbibed from tbe doctrines inculcated by IMajor, under whom
Buchanan studied logic. The doctrines of Major are more boldly and broadly,
if not justly, laid down than those of Grotius.' Although a churchman, he was

2 Scottish Hist. Librarj-, 103. . , ^. -„r , , t,-

^ According to the records of the university of Glasgow, in the jSolcs to vVoclro\vs Uw-

gens coUegii et pedagog

&c," was incorporated along with forty-three others.

« Mede, Caxton, and Froissart are Major's chief authorities,

s One passage is peculiarly striking, and, had the etltct of published opinions been belter
known at the period, might have brouglit persecution on the head of the author: '' Pcpulus
liber primo regi dat robur, cujus potestas a tolo populo dcpendet, quia aliud jus I'.rgusju.s
nrimus rex Scotia non iiabuil: tt ita est uhilibet, et ab orbe condito erat commmuter.

JOHN MAIR. 555

likewise peculiarly unfettered in his clerical opinions. He condemned the
monkish profuseness of David I., that " sair saunt to the crown," and in a work
entitled " Disputationes de Potestate Papje et Concilii,"^ he afterwards unca-
nonically argued tlie necessity of excluding all spiritual dignitaries from author-
ity in matters temporal. Mackenzie, in his corrected statement, continues, " he
remained in Scotland about five years, and taught theology in the university of
St Andrews." At what time he joined that university it would be difficult to
discover, but it appears that he was connected with the university of Glasgow
until the year 15:22, Avhen he receives in the record the several titles already
attributed to him, and with the addition of " Theologise Professor," and " The-
saurus capellce regiae Strevelinensis."^ He was, however, assuredly professor of
theology in St Andrews in the year 1525, as Buchanan is said in his life,
either written by himself or by Sir Peter Young, to have then studied under
him, in the college of St Saivator. The celebrity of his lectures had attracted
the poet's attention ; and, whether as a pupil of JMajor, or to fulfill his previous
intentions, he followed his teacher to France. The connexion was the cause ot
an accusation of ingratitude against Buchanan. Buchanan had afterwards pen-
ned an epigram on IVlajor, in which he turned his name to the bitter qualifica-
tion, " Solo cognoinine Major." It is probable that the opportunity of so apt a
witticism was the sole motive of Buchanan ; but Mackenzie and Christopher Ir-
vine maintained that Buchanan had been fed both in mind and body by the
charity of Major, who had procured him a professorship in the college of St
Barbe. " He who had eat his bread," observes the latter, "and lived under
his discipline, both in St Andrews and in the Sorbon, the space of five years,
might have afibrded him an handsomer character than solo coc/nomitie Major ;^''
and concludes, " but I leave these wretches to the care of tlie great accuser, and
go to my business."^ There appears to be no other foundation for the charge
but the inferences which may be drawn from a passage in Buchanan's life,
which does not express such a meaning.^ Mackenzie states that Major remained
in Paris till 1530. Unfortunately little is known of the circumstances of his
life during that period, nor will our limits permit an investigation among con-
tinental autliors, which might provide useful matter for a more extended me-
moir. AVe know, however, that his fame was extensive and well supported.
He has received high praise from such bibliographical writers as Dupin, Bel-
larmin, and Vossius. He is alluded to by some of his countrymen with less
praise ; and Leslie and Dempster, probably displeased at his view of the anti-
quities of his native country, sneer at the barbarism of his style. Major Avas
probably one of the latest commentators on that universal text book, the Sen-
tences of Peter Lombard. In 1519, he had published " In Libros Sententiarum
primum et secundum conunentai ium ;" a work which has passed to oblivion with
its subject. In 1 521, he published an Introduction to Aristotle's Dialectics, and
in 1529, " In Quatuor Evangelia Expositiones Luculentae," being a discussion on
the arrangement of the Gospels as to date. Mackenzie mentions that he re-
Continuing the train of reasoning, he condudes, " Tertio arguitur ad eandem conclusionem
proband um : regem et posleros pro demeiilis populus potest exauthoiare sicut et piimo in-
stituere.' p. 175.

" Printed in the Vinrlirice Doclrinne Majorum S'chola; Paiisiensis, &c. of Rieherius.
' In tlie same year, " Dominus Dicaiius Johannts Major," is one of the " auditores com-
puti," aiid-also one of ihe " lutiantcs," and " Deputati Kectoris."
^ Nom. Scot , 1819 127.

" Primo vero ad faiium Andrifo missus est, ad Joanneni P.Iajorem audiendum, qui turn
ibi dialeclici n, ant veiius scpliistict ri, in extrema senectule dorebat. Huiic in Galiiam estate
pioxima secutus, in flamm.im Liithcraiise sictae. jam latese spargentem incidit: ac liiuimium
t'ere cum iniquitate fortuua; coLuclatus, tandem in Lollegium liarbaraiium accitus, &c. —
Vila l.uch. i.

55G SIR nCIIAHD MAITLAND.

turncil to Strotlatid in 1530, and taught tlieology nt St Andrews ** till I\e came
to a great age; for in tlie yeai- 151-7, at the nalion.il council of llie duircli of
Scotland at Linlithgow, lie subscrihed, by proxy, in fjualily of dean of theology
of St Andrews, not being able to come himself by reason of his age, \»liith uas
then seventy-eight, and shortly after he died."

Anthony Wood has discovered fi'oin a manuscript note of Bryan Twyne that
Mnjor uas at some period of liis life at Oxford, but in uhal house is unknown,
" unless," says bisliop Nicholscn, " in Osiiey Abbey, whose melodious bells he
connnends." If \\c could suppose Wood to have mislaken a century, the follow-
ing might .'ij)ply to the subject of our memoir during the jcar \\hen he is said
by Mackenzie to have gone to France. Speaking of St John's school belonging
to St John's Hospital, he snys, " all that I find material of this school is, that
it, with others of the same faculty, were repaired by one Joiin ^lajor, anlncep-
tor in the same faculty, anno 1426.""'

IMAITLAND, (Sik) Richard, of Lethington, the collector and preserver of
our early Scottish poetry, and himself a poet of no mean rank, was the son of
William IMaitland of Lethington and 'Ihirlstane, and Martha, daughter of
George, lord Senton. He was born in the year 1400 ; but his father having
perished at the calamitous battle of Tlodden, he was at an early period of life
deprived of paternal guidance and instruction. After going through the usual
course of academical education at St Andrews, he repaired to France, then
the resort of all young Scotsmen of rank, and more especially of students of
law. The time of l;is return is altogether unknown ; he is supposed by one of
his biographers' to have been absent from his native country during the earlier
part of the minority of James V. ; or if he did return previous to that period,
his name is not connected with any of its turmoils. Before his departure from
Scotland, he is believed to have been connected with the court of James IV.
We are at all events certain, that on his return he was successively employed by
James V., the regent Arran, and Mary of Lorraine. To his services, during
the regency of the latter, he alludes in his poem on " The Quenis Arryvale in
Scotland :" —

Madam, I wcs trcw scivnnd to tliy mothyr,

And in liir favoure stude ay Ihankfaliio
Of my cstait, als wcill as cny other.

A passage in Knox's history has attached some suspicion to the good name of
Sir Richard, at this period of his life. He is alleged to have been instrumental
in procuring, for bribes, the liberation of cardinal Beaton from the custody of
his kinsman. Lord Seaton. Of his share in the guilt of this transaction, such
as it is, no proof exists ; while there is something very like direct evidence that
he was attached to the Fnglish and protestant party, and consequently, in favour-
ing Beaton, woiild have been acting against sentiments which the most of men
hold sacred. That cvident^e consists in an entry in the Crinsinal Record, to
the following eflect : — "Richard Maitland, of Lethingtoune, found George,
lord Seytoune, as his surety, that he would enter within ilie castle of Edinburgh,
or elsewhere, when and wliere it might please the lord governor, on forty-
eight hours' warning: and that the said Richard shall remain a good and faith-
ful subject, and remain within the kingdom, and have no intelligence with our
ancient enemies the Fnglish, under the pain of jJlO,000."2

'^ Wood's Antiquities of Oxford, ii. 766.

1 Biographiciil li.troducliun to Sir Hicluird's Poems, {31 iiitcd by the Maitland Club, p.xxii.

2 Pitciiirn's Criminal Trials, i. 3£8.

SIR RTCriARD MATTLIND.

We soon after find Sir Richard engaged in diplomatic transactions for tlie
settlement of the borders. In 1552, he ivas appointed, along uith others, to
make a division of \vhat was called the debatable land, uhich division was
ratified in the following November ;^ and in 1559, he was nominated in a com-
mission of a similar nature. 'Ihe result of the last was, the conclusion of liie
treaty of Upsetlington.

In ISfiS, he was appointed one of the commissioners to decide on the appli-
cation of the act of oblivion; and in the month of December of the same year,
to frame regulations for the commissaries then about to be established for the
decision of consistoiial causes.

While he was thus employed, he was also rising rapidly in the profession
which he had more peculiarly adopted. He is mentioned on the 14th of
March, 1551, as an extraordinary lord of session; and about the same period,
or soon afterwards, he received the honour of knighthood. Ten years alter-
wards (12th November, 15G1) he was admitted an ordinary lord, in the room
of Sir William Hamilton of Sanquhar; and on the same day his son, William
Maitland, was received as an extraordinary lord, in place of Mr Alexander
Livingston of Uunipace. Sir Kichard was soon afterwards made a member of
the privy council; and upon the 20th of December, 15G2, appointed lord privy
seal, which otRce he resigned in 1567 in favour of his second son, John, then
prior of Coldinghame, and better known by his subsequent title of lord Thirl-
stane. AVhen we consider that these appointments were bestowed on Sir
Richard, in circumstances that seemed to oppose an almost insurmountable har-
rier to the performance of their duties, they will be considered as the most de-
cided proof of the estimation in which he was held as a good man, and an able
lawyer. It does not exactly appear whether his healtii had been impaired by
the performance of the duties of his various and important oflices, — it is only
certain that about this period he had become blind. This calamity nmst have
overtaken him before October, 1500, and most probably after his last appoint-
ment as a connnissioner for the settlement of border disputes, in 1559. The
allusion to it in his poem on " The Quenis Arryvale in Scotland," (which must
have been written in the latter part of 1561,) is clear and unquestionable.

And thoch that I to serve be norJit sa abill

As I wcs wont, becaiis J may not see ;
Yet in my hairt I sail be fume and slabill
To \hy Hieius with all fidolitie,
Ay pnijan God for thy prosperitie, &c.

The state of the administration of the laws at this period was sufficiently de-
plorable. The nobles and barons, while they assembled in parliament for the
purpose of making statutes, felt no scruple in breaking them, on the most
trifling occasions, and then appearing, when called to th.e bar of justice, sur-
rounded by armed followers. So comujon, indeed, did this practice become,
and so little regulated by the goodness or badness of the cause, that when some
of the reformers were cited before Mary of Lorraine, the queen dowager and
regent of Scotland, a lai-ge body of their friends assembled to accompany them
to Stirling, where the queen then was; and it was not till a promise of pai-don
(which was in the most unprincipled manner immediately violated) had been
given, that they could be prevailed on to disperse. In like manner, when the
borderers or Highlanders extended their depredations beyond their usual
limits, it was necessary that an army should be assembled for their suppression/

* Keith's Histoiy, p. 58.

SIR RICHARD MAITLAND.

and if the king* did not accompany it in peraon, the command was given to
sonjc nobleman of liigh rank. In most cases, the nobles were by far too power-
ful to fear the most energetic measures of a government wiiicli, receiving as yet
no support from the people, depended upon ihcmselves for its very existence.
Feeling their inability to punish the real criminals, tiie king and his ministers
frequently wreaked their vengeance on some unfortunate individual, who, though
far less guilty tlian his feudal lord, Avas too feeble to oppose the minisleis of the
law. In such cases, the wretched criminal was prevailed upon by intimidation,
perhaps in many cases \\here the necessary proof of guilt could not be adduced,
to " come in tlie king's will," — a phrase meaning to submit without condition
to the royal mercy, — or the jury were terrified into a verdict, the nature of
which no one can doubt, by the threats of the king's advocate to prosecute them
for wilful error, if they did not comply. No one who has looked into the
publication of the " Criminal Trials, and other Proceedings before the High
Court of Justiciary," by Mr Robert Pitcairn, will accuse us of over-colouring the
picture which we have now drawn. "In truth," (to quote the words of an
admirable review of that work, supposed to be one of the last critiques from tho
pen of Sir Walter Scoti,) "no reader of these volumes — whatever his previous
acquaintance with Scottish history may have been, — will contemplate without
absolute \vonder the view of society which they unveil ; or find it easy to com-
prehend how a system, subject to such severe concussions in every part, con-
trived, nevertheless, to hold itself together. The whole nation would seem to
have spent their time, as one malefactor expressed it, * in drinking deep and
taking deadly revenge for slight offences.' "^ That the judges themselves, if not
exposed to the fury of the more lawless part of their countrymen from the un-
popular nature of tlieir office, were not at least exempted from it by its sacred
character, the subsequent part of this sketch w ill sufficiently show.

Setting out of the question the calamitous nature of Sir Richard Maitland's
malady, and his country's loss from being deprived of his more active services,
his blindness may be supposed to have contributed much to his peace of mind.
The transactions of this unhappy pei'iod, — the murder of Darnley, — the queen's
marriage w ith Bothwell, and all the subsequent events of the different regencies,
are too well known to require notice here. But although the venerable knight
did not engage in these transactions, he was not spared the pain of having his
lands ravaged, and his property forcibly kept from him. His lands of Blythe
were overrun by the border robbers,'' as we know by his poem, entitled " The
Blind Baronis Comfort," in which he consoles himself for his wrongs, and puns
upon the name : —

Bljnd man, be blyth, althocht that Ihow be wrangit ;
Thocht lilylhe be herreit, tak no melancholic.

Happy indeed must have been tl'.e man who, dismissing from his mind the mis-
fortunes of his lot, could devote it to the pursuits of literature ; and who, esti-
mating the good things of this world at their real value, could at the same time
cultivate the temper here exhibited.

It seems to have been about the same time that the king's party took posses-
sion of the castle of Lethington, ^vhich had been the temporary abode of the

* See Quarterly Review, No. 89, p. 470.

6 This wiis not the first time that his property had been destroyed or carried ofl'. " Wpcun
the xiiij day" of September, 1549, " the liiglismen past out of Haddingtoun, and brunt it
and Leidingtoun, and passed away without any battell, for the pest and hunger was r3clit iviJl
amangis tham, qulia m_\clit remajne na langur thairin." Diurnal of Occurrents in Scotland,
printed by the Baunat^ne and Maillund Clubs, p. 48.

SIR RICHARD MA.ITLAND. 559

secretcary Maitland, and a ready justification of this violent measure was found
in the conduct of that statesman. After the death of the son, the enmity of the
regent Morton Avas transferred to the aged and unoftending father, and his house
and lands were still violently withheld from him. Although Sir Richard ap-
pears to have requested the intercession of the English court, and for that pur-
pose to have transmitted a representation to lord Burleigh, the queen, with her
usual crafty and cautious policy in regard to Scottish aftliirs, did not interfere :
the document is thus marked — " This must be well considered before any thing-
is done."' It was not, therefore, till the fall of Morton, that the worthy knight
obtained restoration of his lands. He did not, however, droop into despondency
during the long period of eleven years that he was thus " wrangit." In that
period his poem of " Solace in Aige" is believed to have been written. It
concludes thus : —

Thocht I be sweir to ryd or gang,
Thair is sumthing I've wantit lang,

Fain have I wald
Thaim punjsit tliat did me wrang,

Thoucht I be auk!.

Some attempt seems to have been made by Sir Richard to obtain compensation
at least for his losses. There is extant a list of " the guidis tane frae y* aid
laird of Lethingtoun of his awin proper geir forthe of Blythe and y'' TwUowss ;''
but it is to be feared that his endeavours were unsuccessful. At a later period
of his life, he renewed his application for compensation ; and, although he ob-
tained an act of parliament, recognizing his claims, and rescinding an act made
in favour of captain David Hume of Fishwick, ^vho had possessed Lethington,
and intromitted with the rents of that estate, the benignity of his temper war-
rants our supposing, in the absence of historical evidence, that he did not pur-
sue his rights with any violent or revengeful feelings.

The age and infirmities of Sir Richard now appear to have incapacitated him
in a great measure for the performance of his duties as a judge. Throughout
his career the conduct of his brother judges towards him was marked by the ut-
most kindness and sympathy for his distressing malady. As early as January,
1561, they had ordered the macers " to sutler one of the old laird of Lethin-
tone's sones to come in within all the barres as oy*^ pro"- doe, and to issue as
they doe, for awaiting on his father for the notoriety of his father's infirmity,''
and he now (3d of December 1583,) obtained leave to attend court only when
he pleased, with the assurance that he " should lose no part of the contribution
in consequence of absence." In May 1584, he was further exempted from the
examination of witnesses, " provyding he cause his sone (Thirlstane), or his good-
son the laird of Whittingham, use the utter tolebooth for him in calling of mat-
ters, and reporting the interloquitors as use is." When he was at last under
the necessity of retiring altogether from the bench, it was under circumstances
which no less strongly show the public estimation of his character. He Avas al-
lowed the privilege of nominating his successor, — a privilege of the extension
of which lord Pitmedden considers this as the first instance. Accordingly on
the 1st of July, 1584, he resigned in favour of Sir Lewis Bellenden of Auch-
noull, being now, as his majesty's letter to the court expresses, " sa debilitat
that he is not able to mak sic continual residens as he wald give, and being
movit in conscience that, be his absence, for laik of number justice may be re-
tardit and parteis frustrat." At length, after a life, certainly not without its
troubles, but supported throughout by the answer of a good conscience and by

5C0 SIR mClTATlD l\rAITLANI).

much natural hilarity, he closed his days on tho 20th of Mardi, \5^C), at tho
%-eiicrable age of ninety. Living in an age, marked, perhaps more strongly
than any other in our history, by treac.liery and every vi<:e which can debase
mankind, he lived unconUiminated by the moral atmosphere by which he was
surrounded, and has had the happiness, — certainly not the lot of every good
man, of being uniCorndy noticed, whether by friends or enemies, by his con-
temporaries or by jjosterity, with the highest respect. There is but one excej)-
lion to this general tribiilc to liis virtues, — the accusation jn John Ivnox's His-
tory, of his having been bribed to allow cardinal Beatoun to escape from
imprisonment. Tiie foundation of this charge is, however, doubtful; for, although
the candour and accuracy of Knox's History cannot be impeached, it may still
be admitted, from the peculiar position of the parties, that tlio historian's mind
was liable to receive an erroneous impression of Maitlnnd's conduct.

The works of Sir Richard Maitland exhibit him in tlie charactci's of a law-
yer, a poet, and an historian. Of the work belonging to the first of these
classes it is only necessary to say, that it consists of " Decisions from the 15th
December 1533, to the penult .luly 15(3 5 ;" being a continuation of the body
of decisions known by the title of Sinclair's Practicl<s, and that a copy of it,
^vilh the additions of the viscount Kingston, is preserved in IMS. in the library
of the Faculty of Advocates. His poetical collections consist of two kinds, —
those works which were merely collected by him, and specimens of which l:ave
long been before the public, — and his own poems, the greater portion of which
have not been printed till a very late date.

If it be true, as has been often asserted, that the habits and feelings of a peo-
ple are best known by their poetry, surely the collectors in that department of
a nation's literature are entitled to no inconsiderable portion of its gratitude.
The labours of Asloan, IMaitland, and Bannatyne have especial claims on our at-
tention, ns in them arc to be found nearly all that remains of the Scottish
poetry composed before their times. Of the first, John Asloan, — whose collec-
tions are preserved in the Auchinleck library, but unfortunately in a mutilated
state, — little or nothing can be ascertained ; and of George Bannatyne a notice
has already been given in tliis work. Our attention must therefore be directed
to the collections of the subje<;t of this memoir.

Sir Richard 3Iaitland appears to liave been engaged in forming his collec-
tions of poetry before he became blind, — probably about the year 1555, — and
although one of the volumes is dated 1585, it is conjectured that it was the
arrangement of tiiem only that could have been the work of his later years.
The collections consist of two volumes, — a folio, comprehending 17G articles,
and a quarto of 90 pieces; the latter in the handwriting of iMary IMaitland, Sir
Richard's daughter. They are now preserved in the Pepysian library, I\Iag-
dalene college, Cambridge ; but, from the regulations prescribed by the founder
of that institution, they cannot be consulted except within its walls, and al-
though its officers ad'ord every facility which their duty permits, it must be a
subject of regret to every lover of Scottish poetry that they ai'e not in a more
accessible situation. It is true, indeed, that in 1784 or 1785, the late Mr
Pinkerton was furnished by Dr Peckhard with all the means of consulting them
with advantage, and tliat he published selections from them in his Ancient
S(;ottish Poems ; but the charges of interpolation which have been brought
against liim, must make his work a subject of doubt and suspicion.

Sir Richard 3Iaitland did not produce any of his own poems at the period
when ardour of mind or ambition for distinction may be supposed to prompt
men to enter that walk of literature. They were all written after his sixtieth
year. They are the trantpiil productions of age, and of a mind regulated by

SIR RICHARD MAITLA.ND. 561

the purest principles. The subjects, too, correspond with the age at which they
were written, — most of tiieni being of a moi'al or historical description. By far
the most frequent subjects of his poems are Lamentations for tlie distracted state
of liis native country, — the feuds of tlie nobles, — the discontents of the com-
mon people,— complaints " Aganis the lang proces in the courts of justice," —
" The evillis of new found lawis," and the depredations " Of the border rob-
bei's." Not the least interesting of liis productions — are those ivhich lie en-
titles Satyres : one of these, on " '1 lie Town Ladyes," in particular presents us
with a most curious picture of the iiabits and dispositions of the fair sex in his
day, and amply demonstrates that the desire of aping the appearance and man-
ners of the higher ranks is by no means the peculiar offspring of our degener-
ate age. Sir Richard's poetical writings were for the first lime printed in
an entire and distinct form, in 1830, (in one 4to volume) by the 3Iailland
Club, a society of literary antiquaries, taking its name from this distinguished
collector of early Scottish poetry.

It may probably be unl<i;own to most of our readers, tliat a poet from
■whose mortal sight the book of knowledge was no less shut out than from tlie
eye of the poet of Paradise Lost, has also written a poem on the subject of —

—Man's first disobedience, and the fiuit
Of that forbiddin tree, wliose mortal taste
Brought dtath into the world and all our woe.

Except in the subject, however, there is no resemblance between the Paradise
Lost of Milton and Sir Richard Maitland's " Ballat of the Creatioun of the
World, IMan his Fall and Redemptioun." From the latter poem, the following
passages are selected : —

God be his Word his wark began,
To forme the erlh and heviii for man,

The sie and ^vatter deip ;
The sone, the mune, the starris bricht,
The day divjdit frome the niclit,

Thair coursis lor to keip ;
The beistis that on the grand do mufe.

And fische in to the sie,
Fo'.vlis in the air lo fle abufe,
Ofl'ilk kind creat hee ;

Sum creeping, sum fleiting
Sum fleing in the air,
S'o heichtly, so lichtly.
In moving heir and thair.

The workis of grit magnificence,
Perfytet be his providence,

According to his will;
Nixt maid he man; to gif him gloir.
Did with his jmage him decoir,

Gnif paradice him till;
Into Ihatgarding heviidy wrocht,

With plesouris mony one ;
The beistis of ever}- k} nd war brociil,

Thair names he sowld expone;

5G2 SIR KICIIARD MAITLAND.

Tliamc iicinniiiig uiid kcnnyng,

As he list for tociill ;

For pli'isiiig and cisiiig

Ot" man, subdcwii lliamc all.

In hevinlj- joy man so ])cssLSt,
To be allonc Goil tlioct not best,
Maid live to be liis maik;
Bad Ihame incrcss and mulliplie-,
And eit of every fruit and trie,

Tiiair plesour tliay sowld taik,
Except the trie of gud and ill,

That in the middis dois stiind ;
Forbad that thay sowld cum it till,
Or twiche it with thair hand ;
Lcist plucking or lucking,
Baith thay and als thair seid,
Seveirl)', awsteirly,
Sowld dye without remeid.

Tlie poem thus concludes : —

Behald the stait that man was in,
And als how it he tynt throw sin,

And loist the same for aj ;
Yit God his promeiss dois performe,
Send his Sone of the Virgeny borne,

Oure ransome for to p:iy
To that grit God let us gif gloir,

To us has bene so gude,
Quha be his death did us resloir,
Quhairof we war denude ;
Nocht karing nor sparing
His body to be rent,
Redemyng, relieving,
^Vs quhen we war all schent.

The historical writings of Sir Richard Maitland were the productions of an
earlier period than his poems. The principal historical Avork of Sir Richard
tliat has come down to us, is " The Historie and Cronicle of the Hous and
Surenarae of Seytoun, to the moneth of November, in the yeir of God, Jni.
Vc. li.Y. yeiris ; collectit, gaderit, and set furth be Schir Richart IMaitland of
Lethingtoun, Knycht, Dochteris Sonn of the said Hous." This work was
printed in 1829 for the Maitland Club. Another of his Avorks bears the
following title: " Heir followis ane Brief and Compendious Tabill or Catholog
of the Names of the Kingis of Scotland, France, and Ingland, with the dait of
thair Reignis ; togidder with the Successioun of King Blalcolme Cainnioir, and
of all Kingis of Scotland sensyn, to tho dait lieirof ; cjuham thay Mareit ;
quhat Successioun they had ; witli quham they war AUyat. Collectit, gatlierit,
and set furth be Sr. Richart Maitland of Lethingtoun, Knyt. The yeir of God,
Jra. Vc. and three scoir yeiris, the xiiij day of the nioinethe of October."

By his wife, Mary, daughter of Thomas Cranston of Corsby, Sir Richard
Blaitland had a numerous family. It is said that he had seven sons, three of
whom, William, John, and Thomas, rose to eminence — and four daughters —
Helen, married to John Cockburn of Clerkington ; Margaret, to William Douglas
of Whittingham ; Blary, to Alexander Lauder of Hatton ; and Isabel, to Jam&s
Heriot of Trabroun.

WILLIAM MAITLAND.— SIR JOHN MALCOLM. 563

MAITLAND, William, an antiquarian writer of same note, is generally re^
presented as having been born at Brechin in the year 1693, though there is
reason to suppose the date of his birth to have been somewhat earlier. He
does not appear in his writings to have been a man of liberal education. His
first employment was that of a hair merchant ; in the prosecution of which
business, he travelled into Sweden and Denmark, to Hamburg, and other
places, and appears to have realized considerable wealth. At length he settled
in London, and applied himself to the study of English and Scottish antiquities.
In 1733, he was elected a member of the Royal, and in 1735, a fellow of the
Antiquarian Society, which latter honour he resigned in 1740, on going to re-
side in the country. His first publication was his History of London, which
appeared in 1739, and was chiefly valuable for a reason little creditable to the
author, — namely, its being in a great measure a reduction of the ancient and
scarce work of Stow. In 1740, he retired to Scotland; and in 1753, pub-
lished his " History of Edinburgh," which is by far the most useful and credit-
able of all his works. He was not here assisted to any considerable degree by
preceding authorities : the volume is chiefly compiled from original documents,
and must have been accordingly a work of very great labour. In point of com-
position, it is very deficient The style is mean, and the whole tone of the
work that of a plain, dull old man. It also bears in some parts the traces of
credulity and narrowness of understanding on the part of the author. As a
compilation of facts, it is, nevertheless, very valuable. In 1757, Maitland
published a " History of Scotland," in two volumes folio, a work absolutely des-
titute of reputation. He died at Montrose, July 16, 1757, " at an advanced
age," say the obituary notices, and possessed of above £10,000.

MALCOLM, (Sir) John, a distinguished soldier and diplomatist, Avas born on
the farm of Burnfoot, near Langholm, on the 2nd of May, 1769, This farm
was granted to tiie paternal grandfather of Sir John, at a low rent, by the earl
of Dallteiih, in 1707 ; it subsequently became the residence of George Malcolm,
the father of Sir John, who married Miss Pasley, daughter of James Pasley,
Esq. of Craig and Burn, by whom he had seventeen children, fifteen surviving
to maturity. Of these children, three attained to a high station and title ;
namely. Sir Pulteney, vice-admiral, R. N. ; Sir James, lieutenant-colonel of
marines ; both of Avhom are Knight Companions of the Bath ; and the subject
of this memoir. The farm is still in possession of the family.

Sir John Malcolm entered life in 1782, as a cadet in the service of the East
India Company ; and a part of his success is to be ascribed to the zeal with
which he applied himself at first to study the mannei's and languages of the east.
Having distinguished himself at the siege of Seringapatam in 1792, he Avas ap-
pointed by lord Cornwallis to the situation of Persian interpreter to an English
force serving with a native prince. In 1795, on his return from a short visit to
his native country, on account of his health, he performed some useful services
in general Clarke's expedition at tiie Cape of Good Hope, for wiiich he re-
ceived the thanks of the Madras government, and was appointed secretary to
the commander-in-chief. In 1797, he was made captain ; and from that time
to 1799, he was engaged in a variety of important services, terminating at the
fall of Seringapatam, where he highly distinguished himself. He was then ap-
pointed joint secretary with captain (afterwards Sir Thomas) Monro, to the
commissioners for settling the new government of Mysore. In the same year,
be was selected by Lord Wellesley to proceed on a diplomatic mission to Persia,
where he <;oncluded two treaties of great importance, one political, and the
other commercial ; returning to Bombay in May, 1801. His services Avere ac-
knowledged by his being appointed private secretary to the govern oi'-general. In

5Gi SIR JOHN MAI.COL>r.

January, 1 802, lie was raised to the rank of major ; and on the occasion of the
Persian ambassador beinj;^ accidenUilly shot at l}oniI)ay, ho was asfain entrusted
uith a niissidii to that empire, in order to maicc tlie requisite arrann'cments for
the renewal of tliu embassy, xvliicli lie accomnlislicd in a manner that a/forded
the lii!>iiest satisfaction to llu Coinpan). In January, Lb03, ho ^vas nominated
to the j)residency oH 31ysore, and to act ^vithout siK'cial instructions ; and in
December, I SUt, he was promoted to tlie rank of lieutenant-colonel. In the
June of tlie following year, lie \vas appointed chief agent of the f^overnor-
general, and lie continued to serve in that capacity until 3Iarch, 180(j, having
successfully conciliided several very important treaties during that period.

Upon the arrival in India, in April, 1 808, of the new governor-general,
lord iMinto, colonel Malcolm was sent by his lordship to the court of Persia on
a very important mission — that of endeavouiing to counteract the designs of
Bonaparte, then in the zenith of his power, who threatened an invasion of India
by way of Persia, supported by the Persian and Turkish governments. In this
difficult embassy, colonel Malcolm did not wholly succeed. He returned to
Calcutta in the following August, and soon afterwards proceeded to his residence
at Mysore, after having, to use the words of lord Minto, " laid the govern-
ment under additional obligations to his zeal and ability." Early in the year
1810, lie was again selected to proceed in a diplomatic capacity to the court of
Persia, whence he returned upon the appointment of Sir Gore Ouseley, as am-
bassador. So favourable \vas the impression which he made, on this occasion,
on the Pei-sian prince, that he was presented by him with a valuable sword and
star, and, at the same time, made a khan and sepahdar of the empire ; to that
impression, indeed, may be ascribed much of the good understanding, both in n
political and commercial point of view, which afterwards subsisted between
this country and Persia. During this embassy, while at Bagdad, colonel ]Mal-
colm transmitted to the government of Bengal his final I'eport of the affairs of
Persia — a docinnent so liiglily appreciated, that the government acknowledged
its receipt to the sea'et committee in terms of unqualified praise.

In 1812, colonel Malcolm again visited his native shores. lie was received
by the court of directors of the East India Company, with the deepest regard
and acknowledgment of his merits ; and shortly afterwards he received the
honour of knighthood. He returned to India in ISIG, and soon became en-
gaged in extensive politi(xal and military duties ; he was attached, as political
agent of the governor-general, to the force under lieutenant-general Sir T.
Hislop, and appointed to command the third division of the army, with which,
after taking Talym by surprise, he acted a prominent part in the celebrated
battle of Mehidpoor, when the army under 3Iulhar Rao Holkar was complete-
ly beaten, and put to rout. His skill and valour on this occasion were the
theme of general admiration. A vote of thanks was awarded him, on the pro-
posal of Mr Canning, by the house of commons ; and the prince regent ex-
pressed his I'egret that the circumstance of his not having attained the rank of
major-general prevented his creating him a knight grand cross. The intention of
his I'oyal highness to do so was, nevertheless, recorded, and in 1821 he accordingly
received the highest honour which a soldier can receive from his sovereign. After
the termination of the war ^vitll the Maharattas and Pindarees, to which colonel
Malcolurs services had eminently contributed, he was employed by lord Hast-
ings in visiting and settling the distracted territories of iMulliar Rao, Avhich, and
other services^ he accomplished in a most satisfactory manner, gaining to Britisli
India a large accession of territory and treasure.

At the end of the year 1821, he resolved to return once more to England ;
on which occasion the general orders contained the following paragraph :—

sill JOHN MALCOLM. 565

" Although his excellency the fjovenior-geiieral in council refrains from the spe-
cific mention of the many recorded services which have placed Sir John iMr.lcoIiu
in the first rank of those oftlceis of the Honourable Company's service, who
have essentially contributed to the renown of the British arms and counsels in
India, his lordship cannot omit this opportunity of declaring- his unqualified ap-
probation of the manner in which Sir John Malcolm has discharged tlie .arduous
and important functions of his high political and military station in Mahvah. By
a happy combination of qualities, which could not fail to earn the esteem and con-
fidence, both of iiis own countrymen and of the native inhabitants of all classes,
by the unremitting personal exertion and devotion of his time and leisure to
the maintenance of the interests confided to his charge, and by an enviable ta-
lent for inspiring all who acted under his orders with his own energy and zeal,
Sir John Malcolm has been enabled, in the successful performance of the duty
assigned to him, in the Mulwah, to surmount difficulties of no ordinary stamp,
and to lay the foundations of repose and prosperity in that extensive province,
but recently reclaimed from a state of savage anarchy, and a prey to every
species of rapine and devastation. The governor-general in council feels assured
that the important services thus rendered to his country by Sir John jMalcolm,
at the close of an active and distinguished career, will be not less gratefully ac-
knowledged by the autlioriiies at home, than they are cordially applauded by
those under whose immediate orders they have been performed."

Sir John returned to Englaud in April, 1822, with the rank of major-
general, and soon after he was presented by those who had acted under him in
the war of ISIS and 1819, with a superb vase of the value of £1500. During
this visit to England, Sir John received a proud testimony of the favour of the
East India Company, and acknowledgment of the utility of his public career,
in a grant, passed unanimously by a general court of proprietors, of a thousand
pounds per annum, in consideration of his distinguished merits and services.

Sir John had quitted India with the determination to spend the evening of
his life in his native country ; but tiie solicitations of the court of directors, and
of his majesty's ministers for India affairs, induced him again to embark in the
service of his country, where experience had so fully qualified him to act with
advantage. In July, 1827, he was appointed to the higii and responsible
situation of governor of Bombay, which post he continued to fill until 1S31,
when he finally returned to England, having effected, during the few years of
his governorship, incalculable benefits both for this country, our Indian terri-
tories, and every class of the inhabitants there. Upon his leaving Bombay, the
different bodies of the people seemed to vie with each other in giving proofs of
the esteem and high consideration in which he was held. The principal
Eui'opean gentlemen of Bombay requested sir John to sit for his statue, after-
wards executed by Chantroy, and erected in Bombay ; the members of the Asiatic
Society requested a bust of him, to be placed in their library ; the native gentle-
men of Bombay solicited his portrait, to be placed in their public room ; the
East India Amelioration Society voted him a service of plate ; the natives, both
of the presidency and the provinces addressed him as their friend and benefac-
tor ; and the United Society of Missionaries, including English, Scottish, and
Americans, acknowledged with gratitude the aids they had received from him
in the prosecution of their pious labours, and their deep sense of his successful
endeavours to pi-omote the interests of trutli and humanity, with the welfare and
prosperity of his country and his countrjmen. These were apt and gratifying
incidents in the <;losing scene of his long and arduous services in our Indian
empire. But, whether at iiome or abroad, all parlies who knew any thing of
his career concurred in awarding him the highcit praises, both as a civil, mill-

5l»6 SIR JOHN JIALCOLM.

tnry, and political character; and the brief encomiiiin of 3Ir Canning; in parlin*
nicnt, that lie was " a gallant ortirer, wliose name would be renionibcied in India
as long as the 15ritish fl.ig is hoisted in that country," is only in accordance
with the universal opinion of liis merits.

Shortly after Sir .lohn's arrival in luigland in 18.31, ho was rctnrned to par-
liament for the burgh of Launceslon, and took an active part in the proceedings
upon several iniporlant questions, particularly the Scottish reform bill, which he
warndy opposed, lie frequently addressed the house at length ; and bis
speeches \vere characterized by an intimate knowledge of the history and consti-
tution of his country, by a happy arrangement, and much elegance of expres-
sion. Upon the dissolution of parliament in 1S32, Sir John became a candi-
date for the Dumfries district of burghs ; but being too late in entering the
field, and finding .1 majority of the electors had promised their votes, he did not
persevere. He was then solicited to become a candidate for the city of Carlisle,
and complied ; but having been too late in coming for\vard, and being person-
ally unknown in the place, the result of the first day's poll decided the election
against him. Sir John then retired to his seat near Windsor, and employed
himself in writing n work upon the government of India, with the view of
elucidating the difficult questions relating to the renewal of the East India Com-
pany's charter. One of his last public acts was an able speech in the general
court of proprietors of East India Stock, and the introduction of certain reso-
lutions relative to the proposals of government respecting the charter — which
resolutions were, after several adjourned discussions, adopted by a large ma-
jority. His last public addi-ess was at a meeting in the Thatched House
Tavern, for the purpose of forming a subscription to buy up the mansion of Sir
Walter Scott for his family ; and on that occasion, his concluding sentiment
was, " that when he was gone, his son might be proud to say, that his father
had been among the contributors to that shrine of genius." On the day follow-
ing he was struck with paralysis, the disorder Avliich had just carried off
the illustrious person on whose account this address had been made. His death
took place in Prince's Street, Hanover Square, London, on the 31st of May,
1833.

As an author, the name of Sir John Slalcolm will occupy no mean place in
the annals of Dritish literature. His principal works are — A Sketch of
the Sikhs, a singular nation in the province of the Penjamb, in India ; The
History of Persia, from the earliest period to the present time; Sketches of
Persia ; A Memoir of Central India : and his treatise on the Administration
of British India, which was published only a few weeks before his death. Sir
John had also been engaged for some time before his death in writing a life of
lord Clive, which afterwards appeared.

Sir John married, on the 4th of June, 1807, Charlotte Campbell, daughter
of Sir Alexander Campbell, baronet, who Avas commander-in-chief at 3Iadras,
by whom he left five children, viz : — Margaret, married to her cousin, the
present Sir Alexander Campbell ; George Alexander, a captain in the Guards;
Charlotte Olympia ; Anne Amelia ; and Catharine Wellesley.

Upon the public character of Sir John Malcolm it would be superfluous to
pass any lengthened eulogium in this place, since that character is so forcibly
and faithfully sketched in the facts we have just recorded. Let it suffice to say,
that he was a true patriot ; that the chief end and aim of his public life was to
advance the prosperity of his country. — to promote the condition of every class
of his fellow creatures. Such is the conclusion which the records of his life
enable us to draw ; and his private character was in perfect keeping with it :
lie was warmly attached to his kindred and connexions ; as a friend, he was

DAVID MALLET. 5Q7

constant and devoted ; and all his social qualities might be said to " lean to
virtue's side." Last, though not least of all, he was a sincere and devout Chris-
tian ; and in every part of the world where it was his fortune to be placed, and
under whatever circuuistdnces, he never shrunk from any opportunity of evincing
his deep regard for the religion of his country.

MALLET, David, a poet and miscellaneous writer, is said To have been a
descendant of the clan IVIacgregor, so well known for its crimes, and persecution.
When that unhappy I'ace wei-e proscribed by a solemn act of state, an ancestor
of the poet escaped to the lowlands, and assumed the fictitious name of Mal-
loch. James Malloch, the father of the poet, kept a small public house at
Criefl', on the borders of the Higiilands, where it is supposed that David was
born, about the year 1700. Of his career from youth to manhood, nothing
certain is known, nor whence he first derived his education, as, in after life,
either through pride or prejudice, he studiously endeavoured to conceal his true
name and origin.

Having studied for a time under Mr Ker, a professor in Aberdeen, he, it ap-
pears, removed to Edinburgh, where he was, in 1720, employed in the station
of tutor to the children of a Mr Home ; he at the same time attended the uni-
vex-sity of that city. He had while at Aberdeen early exercised himself in
poetical composition ; and a pnstoral and some other small pieces which he
wrote about this period, attracted the notice of many of the Scottish literati, by
whom he was kindly sought after. Finding his situation in Mr Home's family
by no means agreeable, being treated, it is said, with great illiberality, he
anxiously sought to change it, and was so fortunate as to be recommended by
the professors of the college to the duke of Montrose, who wanted a fit person to
be tutor to his two sons, who were then going to Winchester. It is obvious
that he must have conducted himself while at college with uncommon zeal and
propriety, as nothing but superior ability could have procured for a youth so
humbly connected, so mai-ked a preference over the rest of his fellow students.
He was most kindly received in his grace's family ; and, on coming to London
in the Avinter, attended his noble pupils to most places of public amusement,
and still further improved himself in polite literature, and a knowledge of the
world.

Malloch accompanied his noble pupils to the continent, and made what is
usually called the grand tour. On their return to London, he still continued to
reside with that illustrious family, where, from his advantageous station, he got
by degrees introduced to the most polished circle of society. In 1723, in a
periodical Avork of Aaron Hill's, called the Plain Dealer, No. 36, Mallocli's
pleasing ballad of AVilliam and jMargaret first appeared. The beauty of the
production was so highly praised, that it inspired him with courage to apply
himself closely to his poetical studies, Avhich he had for some time neglect-
ed. "Of this poem," says Dr Johnson, "he has been envied the reputa-
tion ; and plagiarism has been boldly charged, but never proved," — though
" in its original state it Avas Aery different from Avhat it is in the latter edition
of his Avorks," It is, however, evident that the idea of the ballad Avas taken
from two much older ones, namely, William's Ghaist, and Fair Margaret.
From these he borroAved largely, both in sentiment and expression. Still, not-
Avithstanding all traces of imitation, as a modern biographer truly observes,
" there is enough of Mallet's OAvn in the ballad of William and Margaret, to
justify all the poetical reputation Avhich it procured for its author." The fame
so justly acquired by his illustrious countryman, Thomson, Avhose friendship he
had the honour to enjoy, stimulated him to imitate his style ; and, in 1728, he
produced a poem under the title of the Excursion. It is a collection of

5G8 DAVID MALLET.

poetical landscapes, sketclicd with some skill and elegance, in imitation of tlie
Seasons, but much inferior in strenglh and sublimity. About this time ho
adopted the foolish conceit of clianging his name from Malloc/i to 3Lillet, to
con(;eal from connnon observation his country and origin ; having, as Dr John-
son snliricaliv remarks, " l)y d^'grces cleared his tongue from his native pro-
nunr.iation, so as to be no longer distinguished as a Scot, he seemed inclined to
disincumbcr himself from all ndhercnces of his original, and took upon liim to
change his name from Scotch Malloch to ICnglish Mallet, without any imagin-
able reason of preference which the eye or ear can discover.'-'

3Lallet next produced a tragedy, called liurydicc, which he had planned
some years before: it was first brought on the stage in 1737, and met >vith n:)
very flattering reception. Garrick, several years afterwards, ^vhen ?dallet en-
joyed both fame and fortune, again introduced Eurydice to the public ; but not
even the talents of that unrivalled actor, assisted by the celebrated Mrs Gibber,
could make it be tolerated for any length of time. Though so ably supported
in the principal parts, so gross was the egotism of 3Iallet, that, as Davies tells
us, he sat all tlie time in the orchestra, and bestowed his execrations plenti-
fully on the players, to whom he entirely attributed the bad success of the piece.

IMallet now Icfc the family of the dulce of 3Iontrose, and went to reside witli
a Mr Knight at Gosfield, probably as a teacher; but still he had made an im-
pression, and enjoyed the esteem of the first literary characters of the day.
There is a remarkable letter extant, from Pope to 3Ir Knight, in which he
speaks of 3Iallet in the following affectionate terms : — " To prove to you how
little essential to friendship I hold letter-writing — I have not yet written to
Mr 3Iallet, whom I love and esteem greatly ; nay, whom I know to have as
tender a lieart, and that feels a remembrance as long as any man." With wliat
heartless ingratitude 3Iallet returned this nobl? expression of confident esteem,
will be seen afterwards. Proud in the first instance of being honoured by the
particular regard of so eminent a poet, he servilely employed his pen, by attack-
ing Bcntley, to please Pope, whose ridicule of critics and cnunnentators he
echoed in a poem, published in 1733, entitled Verbal Criticism. It is
stufl^ed, as Eentley observes, " with illiberal cant about pedantry and collections
of manuscripts. Real scholars will always speak with due regard of such names
as the Scaligers, Salmasiuses, Heinsiuses, I^iirmans, Gronoviuses, Reiskiuses,
Marklands, Gesners, and Heynes." Dr Johnson considered the versification
above mediocrity, which is all that can be said in its praise. About this time,
Frederick, prince of Wales, being at variance with his father, kept what was
considered an opposition court, where he aflected the patronage of men of let-
ters, with the hope of adding to his popularity. 3Iallet, through the recom-
mendation of his friends, had the good fortune to be appointed under-sscretary
to his royal highness, with a salary of X"200 a-year. " He attended the prince
of Orange to Oxford in 1731, and presented to him a copy of verses, written in
the name of the univei-sity ; on which occasion he was admitted to the degree
of 3LA. Had then the Oxford muses lost their voice? or did he assume a fic-
titious character, for the purpose of spontaneous adulation ? The circumstance
is certainly extraordinary." In 1731), he published his tragedy of Mustapha:
it was brought on the stage under the patronage of the prince of Wales, to whom
it was dedicated. The first representation of the piece is said to have been
honoured with the presence of all the leading members of the opposition. The
characters of Solyman the Magnificent, and Rustan his Vizier, were generally
supposed to glance at the king and Sir Robert Walpole ; notwithstanding
which, it Avas licensed by the lord chamberlain, and performed >vith nmch ap-
plause to crowded houses. But in prouortion as the public mind was diverted by

DAVID MALLET. 5uQ

the appearance of another set of political actoi-s than those to whom the play
was said to refer, it lost its only attraction, and sunk with his Eirrydice into
oblivion, whence neither is likely to be ever called forth. In the following
year, Mallet wrote, in conjunction with Thomson, by command of the prince
the masque of " Alfred," in honour of the birth-day of his eldest daughter, the
princess Augusta. It was first acted in the gardens of Clifltlen, by a set of
performers brought from London for the express purpose ; and after Thom-
son's death, Blallet revised it for Drury Lane theatre, where it had, with the
aid of music and splendid scenery, a run for a short time.

The same year he published his principal prose work, the Life of Lord
Eacon, prefixed to a new edition of the works of that illustrious person. In
point of style, it may be considered as an elegant and judicious piece of bio-
graphy, but nothing more. To develope the vast treasures stored in tiie mighty
intellect of Bacon, was a task to which the best intellects of that and a suc-
ceeding age would have failed to do justice. Of Mallet's performance, Dr Jolin-
son merely says, that " it is kno.vn as appended to Bacon's volumes, but is no
longer mentioned."

In 1742, Mallet made a considerable addition to "^his fortune by mai-riage.
He had already buried one wife, by whom he had several children ; but of her
there is little or no account. His second choice was IMiss Lucy Estob, the
daughter of the earl of Carlisle's steward, witii whom he received a portion of
£10,000. From his various sources of income. Mallet may be considered as one
of the most fortunate worshippers of the Muses in his day, and hence, becoming
either indifferent or lazy, he allowed seven years to pass over without favouring
the public with any thing from his pen. When at length his Hermit, or
Amyntor and Theodora, appeared, critics were much divided in their
opinions of its merits. Dr Warton, in his Essay on the Life and Writings of
Pope, says it " exhibits a nauseous affectation, expressing every thing pomp-
ously and poetically," while Dr Johnson praises it for " copiousness and ele-
gance of language, vigour of sentiment, and imagery well adapted to take pos-
session of the fancy." Up to this period the character of Mallet stood de-
servedly high with tlie public as an author, but we now come to a part of his
history when he dre\v down upon his head the severe but just censure of all
honourable men.

Pope, who honoured Mallet with his friendship at a time when a favourable
word from the bard of Twickenham was sufficient to advance the interests of
any genius, however depressed by obscurity, had now introduced Mallet to lord
Bolingbroke, at the time when the Patriot King was first written by his
lordship. Only seven copies were printed, and given to some particular friends
of the author, including Pope, with a positive injunction against publication,
Bolingbroke assigning as a reason that the ^vork was not finished in a style
su'liciently to his satisfaction before he would consent to let it go forth to
the woi-ld. Pope obliged his friend Mr Balph Allen of Prior Park, near
I'alh, with the loan of his copy, stating to him at the same time the injunction
of lord Bolingbroke ; but that gentleman was so delighted with the work, that
lie pressed Pope to allow him to print a limited impx-ession at his own cost, pro-
niising at the same time to observe the strictest caution, and not to permit a
single copy to get into the hands of any individual until the consent of the au-
thor could be obtained. Under this condition Pope consented, and an
edition was printed, packed up, and deposited in a wareroom, of Avhich Pope
received the key. There it remained until, by tiie untimely death of Pope, tlie
transaction came to the knowledge of lord Bolingbroke, who felt or affected to
feel, the highest indignation at what ho called Pope's breach of faitli. Mallet,

'70 DAVID MALLET.

it wns generally believed at the time, was tlio pcj-son •who iiifovmed his lord-
ship of the transaction, but it has never been Piifriciciitly proved that he was
the unworthy- author. Mv George Rose, to whom all tlie particulars of the
story Averc related by the earl of ."Marclunont, llie iiiliniato friend of Boling-
broke, gives us an account of tlie discovery which (blears .Mallet of all blame.
"On tlie circumstance," he says, " being made Itnown to lord liolingbroke,
who A»as then a guest in Iiis own house at IJattersea with lord 3Iarchmont, to
ivhoni he had lent it for two or three years, his lordship wns in great indigna-
tion ; to appease which, lord 3Iarchnioiit sent IMr (irevinkop to bring out the
whole edition, of which a bonfire was instantly made on the Terrace at liat-
tersca." This, however, did not by any means ai)pease his lordship's angry
Aelings. lie determined on revising and publishing the worI< himself, and
employed 31allet to write a preface, in which the part that Pope had acted was
to be set forth to the world in the blackest and falsest colours possible. 'I'o the
lasting disgrace of his character, he was found ready to stoop to so vile and dis-
honourable a task. It would be vain to seek for any palliation of such
egregious turpitude. He was rich, and placed beyond the craving temptation
of lending himself to any one, however high in rank or interest, to defile his
pen by so unworthy a task. I3ut no compunctious visiting of honour ever once
stayed liis hand, or prevented him from heaping the most malignant abuse upon
his departed friend, for an allair in which, it is evident, there was nothing dis-
honourable intended, cither on the part of Fope or Allen. Every fact that
could tend to exonerate Mr Pope, particularly the share his friend had in the
business, and the careful suppression of the copies until IJolingbroke's permis-
sion for their publication could be procured is studiously concealed. " How far
Mallet was acquainted with all these cii'cumstanccs we cannot pretend to affirm."
Nor need any one care about the proportions in which they divide the infamy
between them.

Tiie unmitigated resentment of lord Bolingbrokc, for the evidently uninten-
tional error of a friend whom he almost worshipped while living, is endeavour-
ed to be accounted for by the prefei'ence Fope gave to Warburton, whom Boling-
broke could never endure. Be that as it may ; if true, it only proves the
meanness of his lordship's character, and how much mistaken Pope was in the
man whose name he embalmed within his deathless page, as a pattern for the
most exalted and disintei-ested friendship. But thougli such may have been his
lordship's feelings, pride must have made him conceal the true cause from Mal-
let, who had nothing but the sordid temptation of a ready hireling to incite him
to the odious task. He was rewarded for this service at the death of lord
Bolingbroke, by the bequest of his lordship's works, with the care and profit of
those already published, as well as all his manuscripts.

Mallet, who cared as little for the fame or character of his noble benefactor
as he did for the illustrious friend he was hired to traduce, with the true spirit of
avarice, raked up every scrap of Bolingbroke's writings for publication, without
in the least discriminating what ought to be suppressed, though many of the
papers contained the most offensive doctrines, subversive of sound morals and
revealed religion ; the consequence was, that his hopes of gain were very pro-
perly frustrated by a presentment which arose from a decision of the grand
jury of Westminster, stopping the obnoxious works. This must have sorely af-
fected him, for, before the publication of the five vols. 4to, in 1754, he was
offered, by one Millar, a bookseller, £3000 for his copyright, which he refused.
After all, the sale was so extremely slow, that it took upwards of twenty years
to dispose of the first edition, though assisted by the notoriety of the prosecu-
tion of the work. He next appears as an author in, if possible, a more odious

DAVID MALLET. 571

light. The disastrous affair of Minorca, at the commencement of the war of
1756, had rendered the ministry unpopular. Mallet was employed to di-
vert the public odium, and turn it upon the unfortunate Admiral Byng.
For this ptnpose he wrote a paper under the character of A Plain Man, in
which the disgrace brought upon the British arms in the affair of Minorca, was
entirely imputed to the cowardice of the admiral. It was circulated with great
industry. How cruelly it effected its purpose need not be told. Byng is now
universally considered to have been off*ered up as a victim to the popular clam-
our which Mas thus raised against him, rather than from actual demerit in his
conduct. " The price of blood," says Dr Johnson, with fearful but just severi-
ty, ** was a pension which Mallet retained till his death," He continued to ex-
ercise his talent for poetical composition, and published a collection of his
works, dedicated to great patrons. At tlie beginning of the reign of George
III., wlien lord Bute was placed in power. Mallet, who never let an oppor-
tunity slip for serving his own interests, enlisted under the ministerial ban-
ners, and offered a two-fold service to the cause, by his Truth in Rhyme, and
a tragedy called Elvira, imitated from La Motte, and applicable to the
politics of the day. His reward was, the place of keeper of the book of
entries for the port of London. The Critical Review of that period praised the
tragedy in the liighest degree; but it is asserted that Mallet had the superin-
tendence of that publication, and was the critic of his own ^vorks. On the
death of the celebrated duchess of Marlborough, in 1744, it was found by her
will, that she let't to Mr Glover, the author of Leonidas, and Mr Mallet, jointly,
the sum of £ 1,000, on condition that they drew up, from the family papers, a
History of the Life of the Great Duke. The legacy, however, was found to
be clogged with so many unpleasant restrictions, that Glover, with the true in-
dependence of a man of genius, declined any share in the onerous task. Mal-
let, who never was troubled by any misgiving of conscience, accepted the le-
gacy, under all stipulations, and Mas put in possession of the papers necessary
for proceeding with the work. The second duke of Marlborough, in order to
stinmlate his industry, added, in the most liberal manner, an annual pension to
the legacy. Mallet pretended all along, that he was deeply engaged in for-
Marding the nork for publication, and in a dedication to his Grace, of a col-
lection of his poems, he spoke of having soon the honour of dedicating to him
the life of his illustrious predecessor. But, on the death of Mallet, not a vestige
of any such work could be found, nor did it appear, that, after all the money he
had received, he had even Mritten a line of it. While he continued to delude
liis patron and friends, Avith the expectation of seeing his great Mork appear,
he made the imposition subservient to his interest in many ways. In a familiar
conversation with Garrick, and boasting of the diligence which he was then
exerting upon the Life of Marlborough, he hinted, that in the series of
great men quickly to be exhibited, he should find a niche for the hero of the
theatre. Garrick professed to Monder by what artifice he could be introduced,
but Mallet let him know, that by a dexterous anticipation, he should fix him in
a conspicuous place. " Mr Mallet," says Garrick, in his gratitude of exultation,
" have you left off to write for the stage ?" Mallet then confessed that he had
a drama in his hands — Garrick promised to act it, and Alfred was produced.
Mallet, finding his health in a declining state, went, accompanied by his
wife, to the south of France, for the benefit of a change of air, but after some
time, finding no improvement, he returned to England, where he died on the
21st April, 17t)5. Dr Johnson says, " His stature was diminutive, but he was
regularly formed. His appearance, till he grew corpulent, was agreeable, and
he suffered it to want no recommendation that dress could give it." His second

572 "WILLIAM M'GAVIN.

\\ifu is reported tu have been parlicularly proud, and anxious that he should,
at all times, appear like a man of. the lirst rank. Siie reserved to hersell' tlio
pleasing Uislc of purchasinj^ all iiis line «:lolhes, and \\as alwajs sure to let her
friends Ivnow it was out of her fortune she did so. As IMallet Avas what is call-
ed a free thinker in religion, his wife also, who prided herself in the strength
of her understanding, s<;rupled not, when surrounded at her table with com-
pany of congenial opinions, amongst whom it is said (libbon was a frecjuent
{jiiest, to enforce her dogmas in a truly authoritative style, prefa(;ing them with
the exclamation of " Sir, — We deists." As an additional proof of tiie vanity
and weakness of this well-matched pair, we subjoin the following anecdotes from
Wilkes's Correspondeni:e, and Johnson's Lives of the Foets : —

" On his arrival from the north, he became a great declainier at the
London collbe-houses, against the Christian religion. Old surly Dennis was
highly offended at his conduct, and always called him " JMoloch." lie then
changed his name to ^lallet, and soon after published an epistle to iVIr Fope on
Verbal Criticism. Theobald was attacked in it, and soon avenged himself in
the new edition of Shakspeare : ' An anonymous writer has, like a Scotch
pedlar in wit, unbraced his pack on the subject. I may fairly say of this
author, as Falstaff says of Foin — Hang him, baboon, his wit is as thick as
Tewkesbury nuistard ; there is no more conceit in him than a mallet.^ — Fre-
face, p. 52, edition of 1733. This 3ialloch had the happiness of a wife, who
had faitli enough. She believed that her husband was the greatest poet and
uit of the age. Sometimes she would seize his hand, and kiss it with rapture,
and if the looks of a friend expressed any surprise, would apologize that it was
the dear hand that wrote those divine poems. Slie was lamenting to a lady
how much the reputation of her husband suffered by his name being so fre-
quently confounded with that of Dr Smollett. The lady answered, ' IMadam,
there is a short remedy ; let your husband keep his own name.' "

"When Fope published his Essay on 3Ian, but concealed the author,
IMallet entering one day, Fope asked him slightly what there was new. IMal-
let told him that the newest piece was something called an Lssay on 3Ian,
which he had inspected idly, and seeing the utter inability of the author, who
had neither skill in writing, nor kno\vledge of the subject, had tossed it away.
Fope, to punish his self-conceit, told him the secret."

*' Mallet's conversation," says Dr Johnson, " was elegant and easy, his works
are such as a writer, bustling in the world, showing himself in public, and
emerging, occasionally, from time to time, into notice, might keep alive by his
personal influence ; but which, conveying but little information, and giving no
great pleasure, must soon give way, as the succession of things produces new
topics of conversation, and other modes of amusement."

A daughter, by his first wife, named Cilesia, who was married to an Italian
of rank, wrote a tragedy called " Almida," Avhich was acted at Drury Lane
theatre. She died at Genoa in 1790.

Bl'GAVIX, William, a modern controversial and miscellaneous writer, was
born August 12th, 1773, on the farm of Darnlaw, in the parish of Auchinleck,
Ayrshire, which his father held on lease from lord Auchinleck, and afterwards
from his son James Boswell, the biographer of Johnson. A short attendance
at the school of that parish, when about seven years of age, constituted the
whole education of a regular kind, which the subject of this memoir ever en-
joyed. His parents having removed in 1783 to Faisley, and being in by no
means affluent circumstances, he was sent at an early period of life to earn his
bread as a draw-boy in one of the manufactories. Subsequently he tried weav-
ing of silk, but eventually was led by his taste for reading to become apprentice

TriLLIAM M'GAVIN. 573

to Mr John NeHson, printer and bookseller ; a situation highly congenial to his
taste, and which afforded him tlie means of cultivating his mind to a considerable
extent. Among various persons of talent and information who frequented Mr
Neilson's shop was the unfortunate Alexander Wilson, poet, and afterwards the
distinguished ornithologist, Avho, finding it necessary to remove to America,
was assisted to no small extent by Mr M'Gavin. The popular opinions cf
that period were adopted in all their latitude by 3Ir M'Gavin ; many fugitive
pieces by him upon the question of parliamentary reform and other exciting-
topics, were received with approbation by those who professed similar senti-
ments ; but it is not known that he took any more active part in the politics
of the time.

The duty of reading proof-sheets in his master's shop ^vas tlie circumstance
which first led BIr SI'Gavin to study the English language carefully ; and,
considering the limited nature of his education, it is surprising that he should
have been able to attract notice as an author under the age of t^venty.

In 1793, having left Mv Neilson's shop, he was found qualified to assist his
elder brother in the management of a school, where writing, arithmetic, and
mathematics were taught. Of this seminary he afterwards became sole master ;
but he ultimately abandoned teaching as a pursuit not agi-eeable to his genius
or temper, and in 1798, was engaged as book-keeper and clerk by IMr David
Lamb, an American cotton merchant, to whose two sons he at the same time
acted as tutor. Some years afterwards, on Mr Lamb removing to America, Mr
M'Gavin became his partner; the business was carried on in Glasgow. In
1805, Mr M'Gavin married Miss Isabella Campbell of Paisley. As his busi-
ness was of a light nature, and Mrs 3I'Gavin brought him no children, he en-
joyed more leisure for the cultivation of his mind than falls to the lot of most
merchants in the busy capital of the west of Scotland. At a later period, after
the death of his original patron, he entered into partnership with the son of
that gentleman, and carrietl on what is called a West India business under the
firm of M'Gavin and Lamb. This ultimately proving unprofitable, he was in-
duced, in 1822, to undertake the Glasgow agency of the British Linen Com-
pany's bank, which he conducted without intermission till his death.

Mr M'Gavin was brought up by his parents in the strictest tenets of the
presbyterian faith, as professed by the congregations of original anti-burghers.
About the year 1800, a conscientious dissent from the views of this body re-
specting church government induced him to join the Rev. IMr Ramsay in the
formation of an independent or congregational church. In this communion
he began to exercise a gift of preaching, with which he was endowed in a re-
markable degree, receiving from 3Ir Ramsay the ordination which was considered
necessary for the pastoral office by this body of Christians. Eventually,
circumstances so much reduced the society, as to make it cease to answer what
he conceived to be the design and use of a church — namely, " not only the
edification of its own members, but the public exhibition of their spirit and
practice, for manifesting the glory of the grace of God, and promoting the
salvation of men." For this reason, in 1808, he joined the kindred congrega-
tion of Mr Greville Ewing in the Nile Street meeting-house, Glasgow, where he
was soon afterwards invested with the office of deacon. Here he might have also
continued to preach, if he liad been willing ; but he was now unable, from the
pressure of business, to give the duty that attention which he deemed necessary,
and accordingly resisted 3Ir Ewing's frequent and urgent solicitations, though
he occasionally consented to perform public worship in the neighbouring vil-
lages, or in places where he thought such ministrations eminently necessary.

Being a man of uncommon industry, and equally great benevolence, Mr

574 WILLIAM M'GAVIN.

M'Gaviii found timo, amidst liis minierous iiieicaiilile avocations, to Amtc a
number of religious tracts and stories, for the improvement of tlie poorer and
junior classes of society. Thougli these productions are of a class nhich do not
usually attain a high place in literature, no reader, ho\>ever inditfereiit to tlie
subjects, or of however highly cultivated intellect, could peruse tiiein, without
remarking the extraordinary conciseness of style and moral force by which they
are cliaracterized. The most distinguished of all 3Ir IMHJavin's writings is his
"Protestant," a series of papers, designed to expose the errors of the church of
Rome, conuuenced in 1818, and linished in 1822. In the general decline of
religious controversial writing, the celebrity acquired by this work, is a strong
testimony to the powers of the author. In its collected form, in four volumes
octavo, it went through no fe\ver than seven editions in the first ten years.
According to 3Ir Greville Ewing, in a funeral sermon upon 3Ir 31'Gavin,
" the conunencenient of the work Avas casual, and the whole executed with liasty
preparation. While engaged in a mercantile business of his own, he had at
that time the winding up of an old concern of his partner, the heavy charge of
another concern, which in the end proved a severe loss to him, besides other
business matters, as factorships, references, as sole arbiter, in cases both from
private parties and from the Court of Session, which he decided in a manner
satisfactory to all concerned ; and many other things were devolved on him,
which none but a man of clear judgment, and unusually industrious liabits, could
have undertaken. A work which, otherwise, would have been extremely irk-
some, was rendered pleasant by the continued and increasing favour with which
it was i-eceived by the public in general, and by the approbation of distinguished
individuals in each of the three kingdoms. One of the most eminent bishops of
the church of England offered to give him holy orders. That, however, which
was most gratifying to the author, was the interest which he was honoured to
excite in the public mind, with regard to the subject of popery. I make no at-
tempt to give a particular account of the contents of this work. It is impossible,
they are so extensive : it is unnecessary, they are so generally known. It is
matter of notoriety, that iMr M'Gavin was prosecuted for certain articles in the
Protestant, and had a verdict against him, imposing on him a fine of c£lOO,
which, with expenses, amounted to above £1200. Into the merits of these
things I shall not enter, further than to state, in round numbers, that £800 of
the £1200, was raised by public subscription, and that the whole, it was be-
lieved, would have been more than paid, had net each subscriber been limited
to a certain sum. As the case had been so arranged, 3Ir ]M*Gavin was obliged,
in the mean time, to pay the balance out of his own pocket ; of which, great as
the amount was, I never heard him complain. The publishers afterwards very
handsomely came forward to reimburse the author, which, from the sale of the
work, they were enabled to do without loss to themselves, though he had no
claim upon them."

Mr M'Gavin, in IS27, superintended a new and improved edition of " The
Scots Worthies," a work connnemorating tlie lives of the most eminent Scottish
clergy of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and originally written by an
unlettered individual named John Howie, of Lochgoin. 'ihe book was greatly
improved by the notes of Mr M'Gavin. He soon after published a refutation
of the peculiar views of 3Ir Cobbett in his History of the Reformation ; and a
similar exposure of the principles of 3Ir Robert Owen. Being a decided enemy
to the connexion of the church and state, he was induced to embody his senti-
ments on tlhat subject in a pamphlet, entitled " Church Establishments con-
sidered ; in a Series of Letters to a Covenanter." Not long before his death,
Mr 31* Gavin superintended a new and improved edition of Knox's History of

WILLIAM M'GAVIN. 575

tho Reformation ; and aided witli an introduction, «a work by the Rev. Mr John
Brown of Whitburn, entitled " 3Iemorials of the Nonconformist Ministers of the
Seventeenth Century." In the midst of his divers labours, he suddenly died of
apoplexy, August 23, 1832.

Of the intellectual vigour and x-eligious fervour of Mr M'Gavin, his published
writings afford a sufficient and lasting memorial. His personal qualities are
not, however, fully shown in that mirror. His diligence in his ordinary secular
employments, his zeal in pi'omoting the religious and worldly interests of all
who came under his notice, his mild and amiable character in private society,
are traits which must be added. Two of his most conspicuous qualities —
the power of a satirist, and a certain precision which appeared in all he
either spoke or wrote — might be supposed incompatible with tlie tenderer
lights of a domestic character. But in him the one set of qualities was not
more conspicuous than the other. " His personal disposition," says Mr Ewing,
" was that of the publican, wlio pleaded with God for mercy, when he went up
into the temple to pray, and returned justified, because he that hurableth himself
shall be exalted. Like Nathanael, he was an Israelite indeed in ^vhom there was
no guile. Like Paul, he was ready to call himself less tlian the least of all
saints, and to ascribe his salvation to Jesus Christ having come into the world
to save sinners, of whom he was a chief. He had, even in his natural temper,
much tenderness of heart, much sincere and generous benevolence. If con-
scious of any quickness, \vhich I have heard him acknowledge, but never sav/,
it was guarded by the vigilance of Christian meekness, and by the genuine mo-
desty of superior good sense. Those, who knew him only from feeling the lash
of his controversial writings, may have been tempted to think of him as an aus-
tere man. In truth, however, he ^vas the very reverse. — The profits of the
Protestant he once offered as a subscription to the society in this city for the
support of the Catholic schools. The offer was declined, because some of the
Roman catholic persuasion regarded it as an insult. I do not Avonder at the
misunderstanding. But had they known him as I did, and as he v,as known by
all his familiar friends, they would have accepted of his offer, as a mark of his
cordial good-will to a valuable institution."

BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY

EMINENT SCOTSMEN.

M.

MELVILLE, Andrew, one of the most illustrious of the Scottish reformers,
whose name stands next to that of Knox in the history of the Reformation, and
is second to none in the erudition of tlie time, was born on the 1st of August,
1545, at Baklovy or Baldowy, an estate on the banks of the South Esk, near
Montrose, of which his father was proprietor. The form in which the family
name was generally known at that time in Scotland and in foreign countries,
was Melvyne or Melvin. Tliroughout the interesting correspondence, written in
Latin, between the subject of this memoir and his amiable and accomplished
nephew, whose life is recorded in the next article, the name is uniformly written
Melvinus. In Fifeshire, at the present day, the name is commonly pronounced
Melvin, and at an earlier period it was frequently both pronounced and written
Mclin, Mellin, and Mailing. The Melvilles of Baldowy were a family of some
note in the middle of the sixteenth century, and near cadets of Melville of Raith,
who was considered to be the chief of an influential name in the county of Fife.
Melville of Dysart, however, was acknowledged by Andrew Melville to have
been the chief of the Baldowy branch of the family. Andrew v.-as the youngest
of nine sons, and had the misfortune to lose his father, who fell in the battle of
Pinkie, while he was yet only two years of age. The death of his mother, also,
soon afterwards took place, and he was thus left an orphan. The loss of his
parents, however, was in a great measure compensated by the kindness and
tenderness of his eldest brother, and the wife of that individual, both of whom
watched over his infant years with the most anxious affection and assiduity. The
long-tried and unwearied kindness of the latter, in particular, made a strong
impression upon Melville, which lasted during the whole of his life. •

His brother, perceiving his eai-ly propensity to learning, resolved to encourage
it, and with this view gave him the best education which the country afforded.
He was besides of a Aveakly habit of body, a consideration which had its weight
in determining the line of life he should pursue. Young Melville was accord-
ingly put to the grammar-school of Montrose, where he acquired the elements
of the Latin language, and, among other accomplishments, a knowledge of
Greek, which was then a, rare study in Scotland. When removed, in his
fourteenth year, to the university of St Andrews, he surprised his teachers by
his knowledge of Greek, with which they were wholly unacquainted. He was in-

ANDREW MELVILLE.

debted for this foilunale peculiarity in liis education, to a Frencliman of the
name of .Marsilliers, «ho liad been cslablislicd as a teacJier of (ireek in the
sdiool of Montrose, by Joliii I'.rskine of Dun.

The great progress \\liii;h young INlelvillo had made in learning, excited tlic
astonishment and attracted the attention of the various leacliers in tlie univer-
sity ; particularly 3Ir Jolin Douglas, tlie rector, who on one occasion having
talten tlie young and weakly boy between his knees, was so delighted wilh his
replies, when questioned on the subject of his studies, tliat lie exclaimed, " My
silly fatherless and motherless boy, ifs ill to witl [to guess] what God may
make of thee )el."

The reputation which Melville acquired soon after entering the college, in-
creased with his stay there : and ho left it, on finishing the usual course of
study, with the character of being " the best philosopher, poet, and Grecian, of
any young master in the land." Having acquired all the learning which his
native country alTorded, he resolved to proceed to the continent to complete
his education ; and, accordingly, with the consent of his brothers, set out for
France in the auLumn of 1564, being still only in the nineteenth year of liis
age. At the university of Taris, whither he repaired, he acquired a similar
reputation for general talent, and particularly for his knowledge of Gi-eek,
with that which he had secured at St Andrews. Here he remained for two
years, when he removed to Poictiers. On his arrival at the latter place, such
was the celebrity already attached to his name, he was made regent in the col-
lege of St Marc-eon, although yet only twenty-one years of age. From Poic-
tiers, he went some time afterwards to Geneva, where he was presented witli
the huiiianily chair in the academy, which happened fortunately to be then va-
cant. In 1571, he returned to his native country, after an absence altogether
of ten years. On his arrival at Edinburgh, he was invited by the regent Mor-
ton to enter his family as a domestic instructor, with a promise of advancement
when opportunity should offer. This invitation he declined, alleging that he
preferred an academical life, and that the object of his highest ambition was to
obtain an appointment in one of the universities. He now retired to Ealdovy,
where he spent the following three months, enjoying the society of his elder
brother, and amusing himself by superintending the studies of his nephew,
James Melville.

At the end of this period, he was appointed principal of the college of Glas-
gow by the General Assembly, and immediately proceeded thither to assume
the duties of his ofnce. Here the learning and talents of 3Ielville were
eminently serviceable, not only to the university over which he presided, but to
the whole kingdom. He introduced improvements in teaching and in disci-
pline, which at once procured a high degree of popularity to the college, and
greatly promoted the cause of general education throughout Scotland. Melville
possessed a considerable share of that intrepidity for which his great prede-
cessor, Knox, was so remarkable. At an interview, on one occasion, with the re-
gent 31orton, who was highly displeased with some proceedings of the General
Assembly, of which Melville was a member, the former, irritated by what he
conceived to be obstina<;y in the]atter,exclaimed, " There will never be quietness
in this country, till half-a-dozen of you be hanged or banished." — " Hark, sir,"
said Melville, " threaten your courtiers after that manner. It is the same to
me, whether I rot in the air or in the ground. The earth is the Lord's.
Patria est ubicunque est bene. I have been ready to give my life where it
would not have been half so well wared [expended], at the pleasure of my God.
I have lived out of your country ten years, as well as in it. Let God be glori-
fied : it will not be in your power to hang or exile his truth."' It is not said

ANDREW MELVILLE.

that the regent resented this bold language ; but probably his forbearance was
as much owing to the circumstance of his resigning the regency, which he did
soon after, as to any other cause.

In 1580, Melville was translated to St Andrews, to fill a similar situation
with that which he occupied at Glasgow. Here he distinguished himself by the
same ability which had acquired him so much reputation in the western uni-
versity. Besides giving lectures on theology, he taught the Hebrew, Clialdee,
Syriac, and Rabbinical languages, and discovered such an extent of knowledge
and superiority of acquirement, that his classes were attended, not only by
young' students in unusual numbers, but by several of the masters of the other
colleges. In 1582, Melville opened, with sermon, an extraordinary meeting of
the General Assembly, Avhich had been convoked to take into consideration the
dano-erous state of the protestant church, from the influence which the earl of
Arran, and the lords D'Aubigne and Lennox, exercised over the young king.
In this sermon he boldly inveighed against the absolute authority which the
court was assuming a right to exercise in ecclesiastical affairs, and alluded to a
design on the part of France, of which D'Aubigne was the instrument, to re-
establish the catholic religion in the country. The assembly, impressed with
similar sentiments, and entertaining similar apprehensions, drew up a spirited
remonstrance to tiie king, and appointed Melville to present it. He accord-
ingly repaired to Perth, where the king then was, and, despite of some alarm-
ing reports which reached him, of the personal danger to which he would ex-
pose himself from the resentment of the king's favourites, demanded and ob-
tained access to his majesty. When the remonstrance was read, Arran looked
round the apartment, and exclaimed, in a tone of defiance and menace, " Who
dares subscribe these treasonable articles ?" — " We dare," replied Melville; and,
taking a pen from the clerk, he affixed his signature to the document: an ex-
ample which was inunediately followed by the other commissioners who were
with him. The cool and dignified intrepidity of Melville, completely silenced
the blustering of Arran, who, finding himself at fault by this unexpected oppo-
sition, made no further remark ; and Lennox, with better policy, having spoken
to the commissioners in a conciliatory tone, they were peaceably dismissed. It
seems probable, however, from what afterwards ensued, that Arran did not for-
get the humiliation to which Melville's boldness had on this occasion subjected
him. In less than two years afterwards, Melville was summoned before the
privy council, on a charge of high treason, founded upon some expressions
which, it was alleged, he had made use of in the pulpit. Whether Arran was
the original instigator of the prosecution, does not very distinctly appear ; but
it is certain that he took an active part in its progress, and expressed an eager
anxiety for the conviction of the accused. Failing in establishing any thing to
the prejudice of Melville, the council had recourse to an expedient to efl'ect
that which they could not accomplish through his indictment. They could not
punish him for off*ences which they could not prove ; but they found him guilty
of declining the judgment of the council, and of behaving ii-reverently before them,
and condemned him to be imprisoned in the castle of Edinburgh, and to be fur-
ther punished in person and goods at his majesty's pleasure. The terms of the
sentence, in so far as regarded the place of imprisonment, were afterwards altered
by Arran, who substituted " Blackness," where he had a creature of his own as
keeper, for Edinburgh. Several hours being allowed to Melville before he was
put in ward, he availed himself of the opportunity, and made his escape to Eng-
land, To this step, being himself in doubt whether he ought not rather to
submit to the sentence of the council, he was urged by some of his friends, who,
to his request for advice in the matter, replied, with the proverb of the house of

AI^DREW MELVILLE.

Angus, " Loose and living;" «liicli jnetty plainly inlinmtes what llicy conceived
would bo the result, if lie perniiiled liiniseir to be made " fast." On leav-
ing lulinburgh, IMclville fnst proceeded to Ueruick, and tbcnce to London,
»vbere be remained till ilie November of Ij'iS. 'Ibe indignation of the king-
doHj baving tlien driven Arran from tbe foiirl, tie returned to Scotland, after an
absence of twenty montlis. 'J'lie plague, ^\bicb bad raged in tbe coimti-y wliilo
bo \vas in I'nglaiid, baving dispersed bis pupils at St Andrews, ai;d tbe college
being, from this and olber causes, in a state of complete disorganization, be did
not immediately resume bis duties there, but proceeded to (ilasgow, ubcre be re-
mained for some time. In tbe month of March following, induced by an appearance
of more settled times, be returned to St Andrews, and recommenced bis lei;tures
and former course of instruction. These, however, were soon again interrupted.
In consequence of the active part which he took in the excommunication of
archbishop Adamson, who was accused of overthrowing the scriptural govern-
ment and discipline of the church of Scotland, be was commanded by the king
to leave St Andrews, and to confine himself beyond the water of Tay. From
this banishment be was soon afterwards recalled; and, having been restored to
his majesty's favour, through the intercession of the dean of faculty and masters
of the university, be resumed bis academical labours at St Andrews.

In the year following (15S7,) be was chosen moderator of the General As-
sembly, and appointed one of their commissioners to the ensuing meeting of
parliament. A similar honour with the first was conferred upon him in 1589,
and again in 1 594. In the year following, he was invited to take a part in
the ceremonies at the coronation of the queen, which took place in the chapel
of Holyrood, on tbe 17tb of I\Iay. On this occasion, although he did not
know, until only two days before, that he was expected to take a part in the
approaching ceremony, he composed and delivered, before a great concourse of
noblemen and gentlemen, assembled to witness the coronation, a Latin poem,
which, baving been printed next day at tbe earnest solicitation of bis majesty,
who was much pleased with it, under tbe title of- " Stephaniskion," and circu-
lated throughout Europe, added greatly to the reputation which its author bad
already acquired. An instance of tbe generosity of IMelville's disposition, which
occun-ed about this time, cannot be passed over, however brief tbe sketch of
his life may be, without doing an injustice to his memory. Archbishop Adam-
son, one of bis most irreconcilable enemies, having lost the favour of the king,
was reduced, by the sequestration of bis annuity, which immediately followed,
to great pecuniary distress. He applied to Melville for relief, and he did not
apply in vain. JMelville immediately visited him, and undertook to support
himself and his family at his own expense, until some more efi'ective and per-
manent assistance could be procured for him ; and this he did for several months,
finally obtaining a contribution for him from his friends in St Andrews. Such
instances of benevolence ai-e best left to tbe reader's own reflections, and are
only injured by comment.

In 1590, be was chosen rector of the university; an office which he conti-
nued to hold by re-election for many years, and in which he displayed a firm-
ness and decision of character on several trying occasions, that gives him a
claim to something more than a mere literary reputation. Though a loyal sub-
ject in the best sense and most genuine acceptation of that term, he frequently
addressed king James in language much more remarkable for its plainness than
its courtesy. He had no sympathy whatever for tbe absurdities of that prince,
and would neither condescend to humour his foibles nor flatter bis vanity. A
remarkable instance of this plain dealing with bis majesty, occurred in ] 596.
In that year, iMelville formed one of a deputation from the commissioners of the

ANDREW MELVILLE.

General Assembly, Mho met at Cupar in Fife, being appointed to uait upon the
king at Falkland, for the puj-pcse of exhorting him to prevent the consequences
of certain measures inimical to religion, \\hich his council were pursuing. James
Jlelville, nephew of the subject of this memoir, was cliosen spokesman of the
party, on account of the mildness of his manner and the courteousness of his
address. On entering the presence, he accordingly began to state the object
and views of the deputation. He had scarcely commenced, however, when the
king interrupted him, and in passionate language, denounced the meeting at
Cupar as illegal and seditious. James Melville was about to reply witli his usual
mildness, when his uncle, stepping forward, seized the sleeve of the king's
gown, and calling his sacred majesty "God's silly vassal," proceeded to lecture
him on the impropriety of liis conduct, and to point out to him the course
which lie ought to pursue, particularly in matters of ecclesiastical polity. " Sir,"
1)6 said, " we will always humbly reverence your majesty in public; but since
we have this occasion to be with your majesty in private, and since you are
brought in extreme danger both of your life and crown, and, along with you,
the country and the church of God are lilce to go to wreck, for not telling you
the tinith, and giving you faithful counsel, we must discharge our duty or else
be traitors both to Christ and you. Therefore, Sir, as divers times before I
have told you, so now again I must tell you, there are two kings and two king-
doms in Scotland: there is king James, the head of this commonwealth, and
there is Christ Jesus the king of the church, whose subject James the Sixth is,
and of whose kingdom he is not a king, nor a lord, nor a head, but a member."
Melville went on in a similar strain with this for a great length of time, not-
withstanding repeated attempts, on the part of the king, to stop him. James
expressed the strongest repugnance at the outset to listen to him, and endeav-
oured to frighten him from his purpose by a display of the terrors of offended
royalty, but in vain. He was finally compelled to listen quietly and patiently
to all that Melville chose to say. At the conclusion of the speech, the king,
whose anger, and Avhose courage also probably, had subsided during its delivery,
made every concession which was required ; and the deputation returned with-
out any loss, apparently, of royal favour. It was not, however, to be ex-
pected, that Melville should have gained any ground in the king's affec-
tions by this display of sincerity and zeal ; nor were the future interviews
which took place between them better calculated for this end. The very next
which occurred is thus alluded to in his nephew's diary: " And ther they (the
king and Melville) heeled on, till all the hous and clos bathe hard mikle, of a
large houre. In end, the king takes upe and dismissis him favourablie."

However favourably James may have dismissed him, he does not seem to have
been unwilling to avail himself of the first opportunity which should offer of get.
ting rid of him. At a royal visitation of the university of St Andrews, which soon
afterwards took place, matter of censure against Melville was eagerly sought after,
and all who felt disposed to bring any complaint against him, were encouraged
to come forward with their accusations. The result was, that a large roll, filled
with charges against him, was put into the king's hands. He was accused of
neglecting the pecuniary affairs of the college, and the duties of his office as a
teacher, of agitating questions of policy in place of lecturing on divinity, and
of inculcating doctrines subversive of tlie king's authority and of the peace of
the realm. At several strict examinations, he gave such satisfactory explana-
tions of his conduct, and defended himself so effectually against the slanders of
those who sought his ruin, that the visitors were left without any ground or pre-
text on which to proceed against him. They, however, deprived him of the
rectorship, on the plea that it was improper that that office should be united

G ANDREW MELVILLE.

witli the professorship of theology, the appointment which Melville lield in the
university.

The accession of James to tlie English throne, did not abate his desire to
assume <in absolute control over tiie alfairs of the church of Scotland, and long
after his removal to I'.ngiand, he continued to entertain designs iiostile to its
liberties. The attempts uhich he had made to obtain this supremacy, uhile lie
was yet in Scotland, liad been tlnvarted in a great measure by the exertions of
Melville. His intrepidity kept .lames at bay, and his zeal, activity, and talents,
deprived him of all chance of succeeding, by chicanery or cunning. IMelville
still presented liimself as a stumb]ing-blo<;k in his way, should he attempt to
approach the Scottish church uitli inimical designs, and James, therefore, now
resolved that he should be entirely removed from the kingdom. To accomplish
this, he had recourse to one of those infamous and unprincipled stratagems
which he considered the very essence of " king craft." In May lliOG, Mel-
ville received a letter from his majesty, connnanding him to repair to London
before the 1 5th of September next, that his majesty might consult with him,
.^nd others of his learned brethren, regarding ecclesiastical matters, with tlic
view of healing all differences, and securing a good understanding between his
majesty and the church. Letters of a similar tenor were received by seven
other clergymen, amongst whom was IMelville's nephew.

Though not without some doubts regarding the result of this rather extraor-
dinary invitation, JMelviJle and his brethren set out for London, where they ar-
rived on the 25th of August. The first interview of the Scottish clergymen
with the king was sufficiently gracious. He inquired for news from Scotland,
and condescended even to be jocular. This, however, did not last long ; at
the subsequent conferences 31elville found himself called upon, by the sentiments
which the king expressed regarding church matters, to hold the same bold and
plain language to him which he had so often done in Scotland, and this too in
the presence of great numbers of his English courtiers, who could not refrain
from expressing their admiration of Melville's boldness, and of the eloquence
with ^vhich he delivered his sentiments. In the mean time, however, the Scot-
tish ministers were intex'dicted from returning to Scotland without the special
permission of the king. On the 2Sth September they were required by his
majesty to give attendance in the royal chapel on the foUowiiig day to witness
the celebration of the festival of St Michael. The ceremonies and fooleries of
the exhibition which took place on this occasion, were so absurd, and so nearly
approached those of the Romish church, that they excited in IMelville a feeling
of the utmost indignation and contempt. Tiiis feeling he expressed in a Latin
epigram, Avhich he composed on returning to his lodgings. A copy of the
lines found its way to his majesty, wi.o was greatly incensed by them, and
determined to proceed against their author on the ground that they were trea-
sonable. He was accordingly summoned before the privy council, found guilty
of scandalum magnatum, and after a confinement of nearly twelve months, first in
the house of the dean of St Paul's, and afterwards in that of the bishop of Win-
chester, was conmiitted to the Tower, where he remained a prisoner for four
years. The other clergymen who had accompanied 3Ielville to London were
allowed to return to Scotland ; but they were confined to particular parts
of the country, and forbidden to attend any church courts. Melville's nephew-
was commanded to leave London within six days, and to repair to Newcastle
upon Tyne, and not to go ten miles beyond that town on the pain of rebellion.

In the month of February, IGll, Melville was released fronj the Tower on
the application of the duke of Bouillon, who had solicited his liberty from the
king, in order to procure his services as a professor in his university at Sedan

ANDREW MELVILLE.

in France. Melville, avIio was now in the G6th year of his age, was exceed-
ingly reluctant to go abroad ; but, as this was a condition of his liberty, and as
there was no hope of the lung's being prevailed upon to allow him to return to
Scotland, he submitted to the expatriation, and sailed for France on the 19th
of April.

On iiis arrival at Paris he was fortunate enough to fall in with one of his
scholars then prosecuting his studies there, by whom he was kindly and affec-
tionately received. After spending a few days in the French capital he repaired
to Sedan, and was admitted to the place destined for him in the university.

In the year following he removed to Grenoble, to superintend the education
of tliree sons of the treasurer of the parliament of Dauphiny, with a salary of
five hundred crowns per annum ; but, not finding the situation an agreeable one,
he returned within a short time to Sedan, and resumed his former duties.
Melville continued to maintain a close correspondence with his numerous friends
in Scotland, and particularly with his nephew, James Melville, to whom he was
warmly attached. Of him, his best, most constant, and dearest friend, however,
he was soon to be deprived. That amiable man, who had adhered to him
through good and bad fortune, through storm and sunshine, for a long series of
years, died in the beginning of the year IG14. The grief of Melville on re-
ceiving the intelligence of his death was deep and poignant. He gave way to
no boisterous expression of feeling; but he felt the deprivation with all the
keenness which such a calamity is calculated to inflict on an affectionate heart.
With iiis fondest wishes still directed towards his native land, he requested his
friends in London to embrace any favourable opportunity which might offer ot
procuring his restoration; and in 16 IG, a promise was obtained from his
majesty, that he would be relieved from banishment. This, promise, however,
like many others of James's, was never realized. Melville, after all that he had
done for his country, was doomed to breathe his last an exile in a foreign land.
To compensate in some measure for the misfortunes which clouded his latter
days, he was blessed with a more than ordinary share of bodily health, and that
to u later period of life than is often to be met with. " Am I not," he says, in
a letter to a friend written in the year 1G12, " three score and eight years old,
unto the which age none of my fourteen brethren came ; and, yet I thank God,
I eat, I drink, I sleep as well as I did these thirty years bygone, and better
than when I was younger — in ipso flore adolescenticB, — only the gravel now and
then seasons my mirth with some little pain, which I have felt only since the
beginning of March the last year, a month before my deliverance from prison.
I feel, thank God, no abatement of the alacrity and ardour of my mind for the
propagation of the truth. Neither use I spectacles now more than ever, yea I
use none at all nor ever did, and see now to read Hebrew without points, and
in the smallest characters." With this good bodily health, he also enjoyed to
the close of his life that cheerfulness of disposition and vivacity of imagination
for which he was distinguished in earlier years, and in the seventy- fourth year
of his age he is found vying with the most sprightly and juvenile of his col-
leagues in the composition of an epithalamium on the occasion of the marriage
of the eldest daughter of his patron the duke of Bouillon.

Years, however, at length undemnined a constitution which disease had left
untouched until the very close of life. In lfi20, his health which had previ-
ously been slightly impaired, gi-ew worse, and in the course of the year 1G22,
he died at Sedan, in the seventy-seventh year of his age.

The benefits which Melville conferred on his country in the department of
its literature are thus spoken of by Dr M'Crie : " His arrival imparted a new
impulse to the public mind, and his high reputation for learning, joined to the

JAMES MELVILLE.

onthiisiasin witli wliidi he pleaded its cause, enabled him to introduce an im-
l)roved plan of study into all the universities. Jiy his instructions and example,
lie continued and increased the impulse uhich he hail (irst yiven to the minds of
his countrymen. In languages, in theology, and in that species of poetical
composition \vhic,h was then most practised among tlie learned, his iniluence was
direct and acknowledged." The services whicii he rendered the civil and re-
ligious liberties of iiis <'ountry arc recorded by tlie same able author in still
stronger terms. " If the lovo of pure religion," he says, " rational liberty,
and polite letters, forms tiie basis of national virtue and iiappincss, I know no
individual, after her reformer, from whom Scotland has received greater bene-
fits, and to whom she owes a deeper debt of gratitude and respect, tiian Andrew
Melville."

IMliLVILLE, J.vMES, witii ^vhose history are connected many most interesting
facts in the ecclesiastical and literary history of Scotland, was born at Raldovy,
near Montrose, on the 25th of July, 155U.^ His father was Kichard Melville
ol I3aldovy, the friend of Wishart the 3Iartyr, and of John Erskine of Uun, and
the elder brother of Andrew 31elville. Soon after the Reformation, this gentle-
man became minister of I^Iary-Kirk, in the immediate neighbourhood of his pro-
perty, and continued so till the close of his life. He married Isobel Scrimgeour,
sister of the laird of Glasswell, a woman of great " godlines, honestie, vertew,
and affection." James ]Melville was, therefore, to use his own expression,
descended " of-godlie, faithfull, and honest parents, bathe lightned with tlie
light of the gospell, at the first dawning of the day tharof within Scotland."

The mother of James iMelville having died about a year after his birth, he
was placed under the care of a nurse, " an evill inclynit woman ;" and after
being weaned, was lodged in the house of a cottar, from whence, when ho was
about four or five years old, he was brought home to Baldovy. He and his
elder brother David were soon afterwards sent to a school, kept by Mr William
Gray, minister of Logie-3Iontrose, " a guid, lerned, kynd man." This school
was broken up, partly by the removal of some of the boys perhaps to attend the
universities, but more immediately by the ravages of the plague at 3Ionlrose, from
which Logie was only two miles distant. James and his brother, therefore, re-
turned home, after having attended it for about live years. During the following-
winter, they remained at home, receiving from their father such occasional instruc-
tion as his numerous duties permitted him to give them. At this period, Richard
Melville seems to have intended that both his sons should be trained to agricul-
tural pursuits, there being no learned profession in which a livelihood, even of a
very moderate kind, could be obtained. In the spring, it was resolved that, as
the elder brother was sufficiently old to assist in superintending his father's
rural affairs, he should remain at home, and that James should be sent again to
school. He accordingly attended a school at 3Iontrose, of whicii Andrew
IMilne, afterwards minister of Fetteresso, was master. Here he continued about
two years.

Of the whole of this period of his life, James Melville has left a most interest-
ing account ; and we only regret that, from the length to which this memoir
must otherwise extend, we are unable to give any thing more than a very rapid
sketch of this and the subsequent part of his education. He entered on his
philosophical course at St Leonard's college in the university of St Andrews, in
November, 1571, under the care of William Collace, one of the regents. At
first he found himself unable to understand the Latin prelections, and was so
nuch chagrined that he was frequently found in tears ; but the regent took

1 In a note on this date in his Diary, he says, " My vncle, Mr Andro, haulds that I was
born in An. 1557."

JAMES MELVILLE. 9

liiru to lodge at his apartments, and was so much pleased with the sweetness
of his disposition, and his anxiety to learn, that he made him the constant
object of his care, and had the satisfaction of seeing him leave the university,
after having attained its highest honours. During the prescribed period of
four years, Melville was taugiit logic, (including the Aristotelian philosophy,)
mathematics, ethics, natural pliilosophy, and law. At the end of the third year,
he, according to the usual custom, took the degree of Bachelor, and, on finish-
ing the fourth, that of Master of Arts. One of the most interesting events re-
corded by James Melville to have occurred daring his residence at St Andrews,
was the arrival of John Knox there in 1571 ; and he alludes with much feeling
to the powerful eflects produced on his mind by the sermons of the reformer.

After finishing his philosophical education, James Melville returned to his
father's house, Avhere he prosecuted his studies during the summer months.
Having finished that part of his education which was necessary for general pur-
poses, it was now recjuisite that he should determine what profession he should
adopt. His father had destined him for that of a lawyer ; but although James
had studied some parts of that profession, and had attended the consistorial
court at St Andrews, his heart " was nocht sett that way." Deference to his
father's wishes had hitherto prevented him offering any decided opposition to
his intentions, but he had at this period taken means to show the bent of his
mind. Choosing a passage in St John's Gospel for his text, he composed a ser-
mon, which he put in a book used by his father in preparing his weekly ser-
mons. The MS. was accordingly found, and pleased his father exceedingly.
But James was now luckily saved the pain of either opposing the wishes of a
kind, but somewhat austere parent, or of applying himself to a profession for
the study of which he had no aflection, by an unlocked for accident — the arrival
of his uncle, Andrew 3Ielville, from the continent. To him his father com-
mitted James, "to be a pledge of his love," and they Avere destined to be for
many years companions in labour and in adversity.

James Melville had left the university with the character of a diligent and
accomplished student. He had flattered himself that he had exhausted those
subjects which had come under his attention, but he was now to be subjected to
a severe mortification. When his uncle examined him, he found that he was
yet but a mere child in knowledge, and that many years of study were still
necessary, before he could arrive at the goal which he had supposed himself to
liave already reached. James's mortification did not, however, lead him to sit
down in despair. He renewed his studies with the determination to succeed,
and revised, under his uncle's directions, both his classical and philosophical
education. " That quarter of yeir," says he, " I thought I gat graitter light
in letters nor all my tyme befor And all this as it wer by crack-
ing and playing, sa that I lernit mikle niair by heiring of him [Andrew Mel-
ville] in daylie conversation, bathe that quai-ter and therefter, nor euer I lernit
of anie buik, whowbeit he set me euer to the best authors."

Endowed with such talents and acquirements, it will readily be believed that
Andrew Melville was not allowed to remain long idle. He was soon after his
return invited to become principal of the university of Glasgow; an appointment
which, after a short trial, lie agreed to accept. In October, 1574, he left Bal-
dovy to undertake the duties of his office, taking with him his nephew, who
Avas, in the following year, appointed one of the regents. The labours of An-
drew Melville at Glasgow, have been already noticed in his life, and we shall,
therefore, only extend our inquiries here to the course adopted by the subject
of this memoir. For the first year, James Melville taught his class " the Greek
grammar, Isocratis Parsenesis ad Demonicum, the first buk of Homex's Iliads,

10 JAMES MELVILLE.

Phorylides, llesiods Eoyot k*i 'lluinat, llio Dialectic of H.imns, the Rhetoric of
Taleus, with the practise in Ciceros Catiiin.irs and Paradoxes." " The second
year of my regentinj;," says James Melville, " I teachit llie elements of arith-
metic and geometric, out [of] Pselhis, for shortnes ; the Offices of Cicero ;
Aristotles Logic in Greek, and Ethic, (and was tiie first regent that ever did
that in Scotland;) also, Piatoes Pliaedon and Axiochiis ; and tiiat profession of
the mathematiks, logic, and niorall philosophic, I keipit (as everie ane of ilie re-
gents keipit their awin, tlie scliollnrs ay ascending and passing thrcin) sa lang
as I regented ther, even till I was, with 3Ir Andro, transported to St Andros."
His private hours were devoted to the study of the Hebrew language, and of
theology. He had already, upon one occasion, given proof of his talents for
public teaching, and lie had no\v an opportunity of continuing his labours. It
was a <;ustoni that each regent should, for a week in turn, conduct the students
to a church near the college, where tiie citizens also attended, to hear prayers,
and one or two chapters of the Scriptures read. The regents had hitherto con-
fined themselves exclusively to these limits, probably from a feeling of their in-
ability to ofter any commentary ; but James Melville, taking a general view of
the passages read, gave them a summary of the doctrines enforced, and accom-
panied it with an ap])lication to the situations of his hearers. '' This pleasit
and comfortit guid peiple veiie mikle."

The routine of academical instruction affords but few materials for biogra-
phy. James 3Ielville has therefore recorded little relative to himself at this
period of his life, except an attack made upon him by one of the students,
and the occurrences consequent upon it. But although this aftiiir originated with
him, it belongs more properly to the life of Andrew JMelville, who as principal
of the college, acted the most prominent part in all the subsequent pro-
ceedings.

Andrew 3Ielvil]e had now accomplished nearly all that zeal or talent could
effect for the university of Glasgow. Its i-evenues were improved, — its
character as a seat of learning raised much above that of any of the other Scot-
tish universities, — the number of students was greatly increased, and its disci-
pline maintained with a degree of firmness, of the necessity of which, however
sceptical modern readers may be, the attack to which we have just alluded is a
most decided proof. The Assembly which met at Edinburgh therefore or-
dained that IMelville should remove to the new college of St Andrews, " to begin
the wark of theologie ther with sic as he thought meit to tak with him for that
effect, conform to the leat reformation of that universitie, and the new college
therof, giften be the kirk and past in parliament." Availing himself of the
privilege thus granted of nominating his assistants, he requested his nephew to
accompany him. James had for some time resolved upon going to France, but
he had too much respect for his uncle to refuse his request. They therefore re-
moved together from Glasgow in the month of November, 15S0, leaving Thomas
Smeton, " a man of singular gifts of learning and godlihes," and Patrick Mel-
ville, a young gentleman who had lately finished his philosophical studies, as
their successors.

In December they entered upon the duties of their respective professions.
After his preface, or inaugural discourse, James Melville commenced teach-
ing his students the Hebrew grammar. There were, probably, few young men
in the country who, either from their opportunities of acquiring knowledge, or
their desire to improve under them, were better qualified to discharge this of-
fice well ; but his natural diffidence caused him a degree of anxiety, which
many less accomplished masters have not experienced. "The grait fear and
cear," says he in his Diary, " quhilk was in my heart of my inhabilitie to vn-

JAMES MELVILLE. 11

derlak and bear out sa j^rait a cliarg-e as to profess tlieologie and holie touno-es
amangis ministers and rnaisters, namelie [especially] in that niaist frequent vni-
nersitie of St Andros, amangs diuers alterit and displacit, and therfor malcontents
and mislykers, occupied me sa, that I behovit to forget all, and rin to my God
and my bulk."

During the earlier period of their residence at St Andrews, Andrew Melville
and his nephew had many difficulties to encounter. The former princip.il and
professors annoyed their successors by " pursuit of the compts of the cuiie^e."
The regents of St Leonards, enraged that the philosophy of their almost deified
Aristotle should be impugned, raised a commotion ; and, to quote the appro-
priate allusion of James Melville, cried out with one voice, Great is Diana of
the Mphesians. The provost and baillies, with the prior and his gentlemen pen-
sioners, were suspected of corrupt proceedings, especially in the provision of a
minister for the town, and the opposition and exposures of Andrew Melville
thus raised up for him and his fellow labourers anotiier host of enemies. These
were all open and avowed opponents, but they had one to deal with, who, as
yet wearing the mask of friendship, was secretly plotting their own and the
church's ruin, — this person was archbishop Adamson. Add to all this, that im-
mediately after their settlement at St Andrews, the carelessness of one of the
students had nearly been the c;iuse of setting the establisinnent on fire, and we
shall be abundantly persuaded that it required no small energy of mind, such
as Andrew Melville indeed possessed, not only to bear up in such a situation,
but successively to baffle all the opposition that was offered to him.

But amidst many discouragements which the more sensitive mind of James
Melville must have keenly felt, he had also many cheering employments. He
was engaged in duties which we have seen had been, from an early period, the
objects of his greatest desire, — he was the teacher of some promising young
men, who afterwards became shining lights in the church, and he had the grati-
fication of being requested to occupy the pulpit on many occasions, when there
was no minister in the town, or when the archbishop happened to be absent.

At the Assembly which met at Edinburgh in December 1582, James Mel-
ville was earnestly requested to become minister of Stirling. For himself he
felt much inclined to accede to the wishes of the inhabitants, and the more so
as he was now on the eve of his marriage ; but his uncle, considering the af-
fairs of the college still in too precarious a state to admit of his leaving it, i-e-
fused his consent, and James Melville did not consider it respectful to urge his
own wishes. It was indeed fortunate that he was not permitted at this period
to leave the college, for in the very next year his uncle was required to appear
before the king and privy council, for certain treasonable speeches alleged to
have been uttered in his sermons. When the summons (which ordered him to
appear in three days) was served, James Melville was in the shire of Angus,
and could not upon so sudden a requisition return to St Andrews in time to ac-
company him to Edinburgh. He arrived, however, on the second day of his
trial, if indeed the proceedings desei-ved that name. Passing over the minute
circumstances of this transaction, our na^^ati^e only requires that we should state
that Andrew Melville found it necessary to insure his safety by a flight into
England.

In these discouraging circumstances, James Melville was obliged to return to
St Andrews to undertake the management of the affairs of the college, — with what
feelings it may readily be judged. When he considered the magnitude of his
charge, and the situation of the church, he was completely overpowered ; but the
duration of his grief was short in proportion to its violence, and he soon found
the truest remedy in applying his whole energies to the performance of his in-

JAMES MELVILLE.

creased duties, lie taught divinity from his uncle's chair, besides continuing
his labours in tlie departnicut wiiich properly beli>iigcd to liini. Nor ivns this
all : the JCcoiionuis ot" the college, fnidiiig hiinselC in the service of a party from
Avhom little advantage or promotion could be expected, gave up his office, and
thus did the provision of the daily wants of the institution fall to Rlelville's lot.
In the peiforiiiance of these duties, so arduous and so varied, he was greatly
supportetl by the masters of the university wlio attended his lectures, and gave
him many encouragements. IJut his greatest comfort was derived fron> the
society of the afterwards celebrated Robert IJruce of Kinnaird, who, abandoning
his attendance on the courts of huv, had, with his father's permission, begun the
study of theology at St Andrews.

Harndess, however, as a person whose attention was thus so completely occu-
pied by his own duties must certainly have been, the government did not long
permit James 3Ielville to retain his station. The acts of the parliament 1584,
by Mhich the presbyterian form of church government was overthrown, were
proclaimed at the market cross of Edinburgh, and protested against by Robert
Pont and others, in behalf of the church. We have already alluded to the
malpractices of archbishop Adamson. About the beginning of May, 1581,
IMelville had gone to one of the northern counties to collect the revenues of the
college. It had, perhaps, been conjectured by the episcopal party, to their no
small gratification, that, finding himself unable to comply conscientiously with
the late enactments, he liad retired, with some of the other ministers, into Eng-
land. If so, they must have been grievously disappointed by his return. It was
certainly not long till the archbishop abundantly manifested his real disposi-
tions; for, on the Sunday innnediately following, IMelville was informed that a
warrant for his apprehension was already in that prelate's possession, and that
lie was to proceed immediately to its execution. At the earnest desire of his
friends, he was prevailed on to remove to Dundee, where he had no sooner
arrived, than he learned that a search had been made for him in every part of
the college, and that an indictment had been prepared against him, for holding
communication with his uncle, the king's rebel. But Ins removal to Dundee
could serve only a very temporary purpose, for it must very soon have become
known, and would then have ceased to be any security for his liberty. After
the most anxious consideration, he resolved to accept an offer made him by one
of his cousins, to take him by sea to Berwick. This gentleman, hiring a small
boat under the pretext of conveying some of his wines to one of the coast towns
in the neighbourhood, took in Melville in the disguise of a shipwrecked sea-
man ; and, after a voyage, not less dangerous from the risk of detection, than
from a violent storm which overtook them, landed him safely at Berwick, where
he met his uncle and the other ministers who had been obliged to flee.

The suddenness with which James Melville had been obliged to leave St An-
drews, prevented him taking his \vife along with him ; to have done so, would,
in fact, liave endangered the whole party. But, after arriving at Berwick, he im-
mediately sent back his cousin, Alexander Scrymgeour, with a letter, requesting
this lady (a daughter of John Dury, minister of Edinburgh) to join him. This
she had very soon an opportunity of doing, by placing herself under tlie care
of a servant of the English ambassador, and she accordingly remained with her
husband during the short period of his exile. At Berwick they resided for
about a month ; and there, as in every other place, James JMelville's amiable
and affectionate dispositions procured him many friends. Among these was the
lady of Sir Harry Widrington, governor of the town, under lord Hunsdon. In
the mean time, he was invited by the earls of Angus and Mar, then at Newcastle,
to become their pastor. Being totally ignorant of the characters of these

JAMES MELVILLE. 13

ni>blemen, and of the cause of their exile, he felt unwilling to connect himself
with their party, and therefore replied to their invitation, that he could not
comply with it, as he had never qualified iiimself for performing the ministerial
functions; but that, as he had determined upon removing to the south, he
should visit them on his way thither, Wiien he arrived at Newcastle, he deter-
mined upon immediately securing a passage by sea to London ; but John David-
son, one of his former masters at St Andrews, and now minister of Prestonpans,
informed him that it was not only his own earnest desire, but that of all their
brethren, that lie should remain at Newcastle with the exiled lords, whose cha-
racters and cause he vindicated. To their wislies, Melville therefore acceded.

Soon after his settlement at Newcastle, Davidson, who had only waited his
arrival, departed, and left him to discharge the duties alone. Thinking it
proper that, before entering on his labours, the order of their religious obser-
vances and their discipline should be determined, he drew up " the order and
maner of exercise of the word for instruction, and discipline for correction of
manei-8, used in the companie of those godlie and noble men of Scotland in
tyme of thair aboad in Englande, for the guid cause of God's kirk, thair king
and countrey," and prefixed to it an exhortative letter to the noblemen and their
followers. This prefatory epistle commences by an acknowledgment that their
present calamities were the just chastisements of the Almighty, for their luke-
warmness in the work of reformation, — for permitting the character of their
sovereign to be formed by the society of worthless and interested courtiers, — for
their pursuit of their own aggrandizement, rather than the good of their country,
— and for the violation of justice, and connivance at many odious and unnatural
crimes. But while they had thus rendered tiiemselves the subjects of the Divina
vengeance, how great had been tlie crimes of the court! It had followed the
examples of Ahaz and Uzzah, in removing the altar of the Lord, — it had de-
prived the masters of their livings, and desolated the schools and universities, —
it had said to the preachers, " Prophecy no longer to us in the name of the
Lord, but speak unto us pleasant things according to our liking," — it had taken
from others the key of knowledge, — it entered not in, and those that would en-
ter in, it suffered not : finally, it had threatened the ministers, God's special
messengers, with imprisonment and death, and, following out its wicked designs,
had compelled them to flee to a foreign land. " Can the Lord suffer these
things long," Melville continues with great energy, " and be just in executing
of his judgments, and pouring out of his plagues upon his cursed enemies ?
Can the Lord suffer his sanctuary to be defiled, and his own to smart, and be
the Father of mercies, God of consolation, and most faithful keeper of his pro-
mises ? Can the Lord suffer his glory to be given to another ? Can he who
hath promised to make the enemies of Christ Jesus his footstool, suffer tliem to
tread on his head? Nay, nay, right honourable and dear brethren, he has
anointed him King on his holy mountain ; he has given him all nations for an
inheritance ; he has put into his hand a sceptre of iron, to bruise in powder these
earthen vessels. When his wrath shall once begin to kindle but a little, he
shall make it notoriously known to all the world, that they only are happy who
in humility kiss the Lord Jesus, and trust in him." He then concludes by a
solemn admonition, that with true repentance, — with unfeigned humiliation, —
with diligent perusal of God's word, — and with fervent prayer, meditation, and
zeal, they should prosecute the work of God, under the assurance that their la-
bours should not be in vain. He warns them of the diligence of the enemies
of God's church, — exhorts them to equal diligence in a good cause, — and re-
minds them that the ministers of Christ shall be witnesses against them, if they
should be found slumbering at their posts. At the request of Archibald, earl of

li JAMES MELVILLE.

Angus, Melville also drew up a " list of certain great abuses ;" but as it is in
many points a recapitulation of the letter just quoted from, no further allusion
to it is iiere necessary.

About a month after the commencement of his ministrations, Melville was
joined by 3Ir Patrick Galloway, who divided tlie labours with him. His family
was no\v on the increase, and it \vas considered necessai-y to remove to Berwick,
wiiere he remained as minister of that congregation till the birth of his first
ciiiid, — a son, whom he named Ephraim, in allusion to his fruitfulness in a
strange land. Notwithstanding tlie stratagems of captain James Stewart, by
which lord Hunsdon was induced to forbid them to assemble in the church, tlie
congregation obtained leave, through the kind offices of lady Widrington, to
meet in a private house ; and Melville mentions that he was never more dili-
gently or more profitably employed, than during that winter. But the pleasure
^vhicil he derived from tiie success of his ministrations, Avas more than counter-
balanced by tlie conduct of some of his brethren at home.

It was about this period tliat many of the Scottish clergy, led on by the ex-
ample of John Craig, one of the ministers of Edinburgh, signed a deed, binding
tiiemselves to obey the late acts of parliament, as far as " according to the word
of God." Melville saw tlie confusions which the introduction of such an equi-
vocal clause must produce. He accordingly addressed a most affectionate but
faithful letter, to the subscribing ministers, in which he exhibited, at great
length, tile sinfulness of tlieir compliance, and the handle which such a compro-
mise must give to the enemies of religion. This letter, as it encouraged the
firm, and confirmed the wavering, was proportionally the object of hatred to the
court. Two of the students at St Andrews, being detected copying it for dis-
tribution, were compelled to flee ; and no means seem to have been omitted to
ciieck its circulation, or to weaken the force of its statements.

About tile middle of February, 15S4-5, the noblemen, finding their present
residence too near the borders, determined upon removing farther to the south.
James Melville, therefore, prepared to follow. In the beginning of March,
he and a i'ew friends embarked for London, where they arrived, after a voyage
rendered tedious by contrary .winds ; and, being joined by their companions in
exile, were not a little comforted. Soon after his arrival, Melville resumed his
ministerial labours.

Many circumstances, which it is not necessary to detail here, conspired to
render their exile much shorter tlian tlieir fondest wishes could have anticipated.
As soon as the noblemen of their party had accommodated their disputes with
the king, the brethren received a letter (dated at Stirling, Gth November, 1 585)
from their fellow ministers, urging them to return with all possible expedition.
James Melville, and Robert Dury, one of his most intimate fiiends, therefore,
left London, and, after encountering many dangers during the darkness of the
nights, arrived at Linlithgow. There he found his brethren under great depres-
sion of mind : they had vainly expected from the parliament, then sitting, the
abrogation of the obnoxious acts of 1 5S4 ; and they had a further cause oi
grief in the conduct of Craig, the leader of tiie subscribing ministers. After
much expectation, and many fruitless attempts to persuade the king of the nn-
propriety of the acts, they were obliged to dismiss, having previously presented
a supplication, earnestly craving that no ultimate decision respecting the churcli
might be adopted, without the admission of free discussion.

During the following winter, James Melville was occupied partly in the ar-
rangement of his family affairs, but principally in re-establishing order in the
university. The plague, which had for some time raged with great violence,
was now abated, and the people, regaining their former confidence, had begun

JAMES MELVILLE. 15

to return to their ordinary affairs. Taking advantage of this change, the two
Melvilles resolved on resuming their labours, and accordingly entered on their
respective duties about the middle of March. In the beginning of April the
Synod of Fife convened, and it was the duty of James Melville, as moderator
at the last meeting, to open their proceedings with a sermon. He chose for his
text that part of the twelfth chapter of St Paul's Epistle to the Romans, in
which the Christian church is compared to the human body, — composed, like it,
of many members, the harmonious operation of which is essential to the health
of the whole. After showing by reference to Scripture what was the constitu-
tion of the true church, — refuting the doctrine of " the human and devilish
bishopric," — adverting to the purity of the reformed constitution of their
church, and proving that the inordinate ambition of a few had been in all
ages the destruction of that purity — he turned towards the archbishop,
who was sitting with great pomp in the assembly, charged him Avith the
overthrow of the goodly fabric, and exhorted the brethren to cut off so unwor-
thy a member from among them. Notwithstanding the remonstrances and pro-
tests of the prelate, the Synod immediately took up the case, — went on, with
an inattention to all the forms of decency and some of those of justice which
their warmest advocates do not pretend to vindicate, and ordered him to be ex-
communicated by Andrew Hunter, minister of Carnbee. Thus, by the fervour
of their zeal, and perhaps goaded on by personal wrongs, did an Assembly,
composed, in the main, of worthy men, subject themselves to censure in the case
of a man of a character disgraceful to his profession ; and whom, had they
been content to act with more moderation, nothing but the strong hand of
civil power could have screened from their highest censures, Avhile eien it
could not have defended him from deserved infamy.

But the informality of the Synod's proceedings gave their enemies an unfor-
tunate hold over them, and was the means of baffling their own ends. By the
influence of the king, the General Assembly, which met soon afterwards, an-
nulled their sentence, and the Melvilles, being summoned before the king, were
commanded to confine themselves, — Andrew to his native place, and James to
his college. Thus did matters continue during that summer. James Melville
lectured to a numerous audience on the sacred history, illustrating it by
reference to geography and chronology. On each alternate day he read lectures
on St Paul's Epistle to Timothy, in the course of which he took many oppor-
tunities of attacking the hated order of bishops.

Melville was now to obtain what had all along been the object of his highest
wishes — a settlement as minister of a parish. In 1583, the charge of the con-
junct parishes of Abercrombie, Pittenweem, Anstruther, and Kilrenny, became
vacant by the decease of the incumbent, and thus they continued for several
years. When the Presbytery of St Andrews resumed their meetings on the re-
turn of the banished ministers, commissioners were appointed to visit these
parishes, and to bring them, if possible, to the unanimous choice of a
minister. James Melville, who had been nominated one of these commissioners,
soon gained the affections of the people insomuch that they unanimously requested
the Presbytery to send him among them. That court no less warmly urged
his acceptance, and he accordingly removed to his charge in July, 1586.

It may be readily conceived, that to perform the duties of four parishes was a
task far beyond the moral and physical capabilities of any single individual,
more especially after they had so long wanted the benefit of a regular ministry.
Their conjunction was the result of the mercenary plans of Morton and
his friends, but no man was less actuated by such motives than Melvillo.
No sooner did he become acquainted with the state of these parishes than Lc

16 JAMES MELVILLE.

(IcternuDetl on their disjiindion, at wliatcvcr periininry loss. VVIien this was of-
f'ccted, lie willingly resigned the proportiiins of stipend in favour of the minis-
ters provided for three of the pnrisiies, ^^hile he himself undertook the charge
of the fourth (Kilrenny), — lie obtained an aiifjiuentation of stipend, built a
manse, purchased the right to the vic^aragc and teind fish for the support
of himself and his successors, paid the salary of a schoolmaster, and
mainLTined an assistant to perform the duties of the parish, as he was fre-
quently engaged in the public afliiirs of the church. Such instances of disin-
terested zeal are indeed rare ; but even this was not all. IMany years
afterwards he printed for the use of his people a catechism which cost
five hundred merks, of which, in writing his Diary, he mentions that he could
never regain more than one fifth part. While he was thus anxiously promoting
tlie moral and religious improvement of the parishioners, he was also dis-
tinguished by the exemplification of his principles in the ordinary afihirs of
life. An instance of his generosity occurred soon after his settlement in his
new charge. In the beginning of 1588, rumours were spread through the
country of the projected invasion by the Spaniards. Some time before the de-
struction of the Armada was kno\vn, Melville was Availed on, early in the
morning, by one of the baillies of the town, who stated that a ship filled with
Spaniards had entered their harbour in distress, and requested his advice as to
the line of conduct to be observed. When the day was further advanced, the
officers (the principal of whom is styled general of twenty hulks) were per-
mitted to land, and appear before the minister and principal men of the town»
They stated that their division of the squadron had been wrecked on the Pair
Isle, where they had been detained many weeks under all the miseries ot
fatigue and hunger ; that they had at length procured the ship which lay in the
harbour ; and now came before them to crave their forbearance towards them.
i\Ielville replied that, although they were the supporters of Christ's greatest
enemy the pope, and although their expedition had been undertaken with the
design of desolating the pi'otestant kingdoms of England and Scotland, they
should know by their conduct that the people of Scotland were professors of a
purer religion. Without entering into all the minute facts of the case, it may
be enough to say, that the officers and men were all at length received on
shore, and treated with the greatest humanity. " Bot Ave thanked God Avitli
our heartes that Ave had sein tham amangs ays in that forme," is the quaint con-
clusion of James Melville, alluding to the difference betAveen the objects of the
expedition and the success Avliich had attended it.

But, howcA'cr disinterested James Mehille's conduct might be, it was not des-
tined to escape the most unjust suspicions. AVhen subscriptions Avere raised to
assist the French protestants and the inhabitants of Geneva, (cir. 15SS), lie had
been appointed collector for Fife, and this appointment Avas now seized upon by
his enemies at court, who surmised that he had given the money thus raised to
the earl of Bothwell to enable him to raise forces. The supposition is so ab-
surd that it seems incredible that any one, arguing merely on probabilities,
should believe that money intended for Geneva, — the very stronghold of his be-
loved presbytery, — should be given to an outlaw and a catholic. Luckily Mel-
ville Avas not left to prove his innocence even by the doctrine of probabilities.
He had in his hands a discharge for the money gianted by those to whom he
had paid it over, and it Avas, besides, matter of notoriety that he had been the
most active agent in the suppression of Bothweirs rebellion. Still, hoAvever, his
enemies hinted darkly Avhere they durst not make a manly charge, and it Avas
not till 1594, Avhen sent as a commissioner to the king by the Assembly on
another mission, that he had an opportunity of vindicating himself. He then

JAMES MELVILLE. 17

demanded that any one who could make a charge against him should stand
Ibrwaid and give him an opportunity of vindicating himself before his sovereign.
No one appeared. Melville was admitted to a long interview in the king's
cabinet ; and " thus," says he, " I that came to Stirling the traitor, returned
to Edinburgh a great courtier, yea a cabinet councillor."

At the opening of the General Assembly in 1590, James Melville preached.
After the usual exordium, he insisted on the necessity of maintaining the strict-
est discipline, — he recalled to the memory of his audience the history of their
country since the Keformation, the original purity of the church, and admonished
them of its begun decline, — the brethren were warned of the practices of " the
belly-god bishops of England ;" and the people were exhorted to a more zealous
support of the ecclesiastical establishment, and to a more liberal communication
of temporal things to their ministers ; — lastly, he recommended a supplication
to the king, for a free and full assembly, to be held in the royal presence, for
the suppression of papists and sacrilegious persons. The activity of Melville,
and indeed of the ministers generally, against the catholics, must be considered
as one of the least defensible parts of their conduct. We are aware that tliose
^vho believe religion to be supported by works of man's device, will find strong
palliations for their actions in their peculiar circumstances; and we do not mean
to deny, that when the popish lords trafiicked with foreign powers for the sub-
version of the civil and religious institutions of the country, the government
did rigiit in bringing them to account. They then became clearly guilty of
a civil oJlence, and were justly amenable for it to the secular courts. But
Mhen the catholics were hunted down for the mere profession of their reli-
gion,— when their attachment to their opinions was considered the mere cf-
lect of obstinacy, and thus worthy to be visited with the highest pains, — tha
protestants reduced themselves to the same inconsistency with which they so
justly charged their adversaries. If it be urged in defence, that their religion
^vas in danger, v.e reply, that the conduct of the catholics, previous to the
Keformation, was equally defensible on tiie very same grounds. In both cases
was the church of the parties in imminent hazard ; and, if we defend the at-
tempt of one party to support theirs by the civil power, with what justice can
Ave condenni the other ? A remarkable passage occurs in the account which
friar Ogilvie (a Jesuit, who Avas executed at Glasgow in 1615) has left of his
trial. His examinators accused the kings of France and Spain of extermi-
nating the protestants. Ogilvie immediately replied: Neither has Francis ban-
islied, nor Philip burned protestants on account of religion, but on account of
heresy, which is not religion but rebellion^' Here, then, is the rock upon
which botii parties split, — that of considering it a crime to hold certain religious
opinions. Both parties were in turn equally zealous in pi'opagating their ideas, —
both were justifiable in doing so, — and both equally unjustifiable in their absurd
attempts to control the workings of the human mind. Truth, which all parties
seem convinced is on their side, nmst and shall prevail, and the intolerant zeal
of man can only prove its own folly and its wickedness. We return to the nar-
rative.

When the king, in October, 1594, determined on opposing the popish lords
in person, he Avas accompanied at his OAvn request by the two Melvilles and two
other ministers. Following tlie Highland system of Avarfare, these noblemen
retired into their fastnesses ; and the royal forces, after doing little more
than displaying themselves, Avere ready to disperse, for Avant of pay. In this

" Relatio Incarcerationis et Martyrii P. Joaiinis Ogilbei, &c., Duari, 1615, p. 24. This is,
of course, the Roman Catholic account. Ogilvle's trial, and a reprint of the i'rotestant ac-
count of it set forth at the time, Avill be found in Pitcairn's Criminal Trials.

18 JA:MES MELVILLE.

eiiiergencY, James iMelville was <les[)at(lie(l to Kdiiibnigli and the otlier princi-
pal towns, with letters iVoiu tlie king and the ministers, urjfin^ a liberal con-
tribution for tiieir assistance. His services on this occasion, and tiie spirit in-
fused by Andrew IMelville into the royal councils, materially contributed to the
success of the expedition.

We have mentioned, that at tiic interview at Stirling-, James 3Ielville liad
regained the lavour of the king ; but it is probable that that and subsequent
exhibitions of the royal confidence were merely intended to gain him, in an-
ticipation of the Allure designs of the court relative to tlie church. In the af-
fair of David Black, IMelville had used his influence with the earl of 3Iar, to
procure a favourable result ; and, although the king did not express disappro-
bation of his conduct, but, on the contrary, commanded him to declare from the
pulpit at St Andrews, the amicable termination of their cpiarrel, he observed
that from that period his favour uniformly declined. Finding, after two years'
trial, that his conduct towards James IMelville had not induced him to compro-
mise his principles, the king probably considered all further attempts to gain
liim quite unnecessary.

In IMay, 159G, the Covenant was renewed by the synod of Fife, and in the
following July by the presbytery of St Andrews ; on both which occasions, Mel-
ville was appointed " the common mouth." After the last meeting, the barons
and gentlemen resolved that he and the laird of Reiras [Rires?] should be sent
to the king, to inform him of the report of another Spanish invasion, and of the
return of the popish lords ; but Melville's interest at court was now on the de-
cline, and his mission met with little encouragement. Returning home, he ap-
plied himself assiduously to the duties of his parish. He drew up a " Sum of the
Doctrine of the Covenant renewed in the Kirk of Scotland," in the form of
question and answer. Upon this the people were catechised during the month
of August : and on the first Sunday of September, the Covenant was renewed,
and the sacrament administered in the parish of Kilrenny.

During the next ten years, the life of Melville was spent in a course of op-
position, as decided as it ^vas fruitless, to the designs of the court for the re-
establishment of episcopacy. While some of his most intimate friends yielded,
he remained finn. There was but one point which he could be induced to give
up. He was urged by the king (1597) to preach at the admission of Gladstanes,
the future archbishop, to the church of St Andrews, from which David Black had
been ejected ; and he did so, in the hope of benefiting some of his distressed
friends by the concession ; but it afterwards cost him much uncomfortable re-
flection. In the month of October he visited, along with others appointed for
that purpose, the churches in the counties of Aberdeen, Moray, and Ross. He
had entered upon this duty under considerable mental depression and bodily
suffering ; and it may be supposed to have been but little diminished, when he
detected, during the journey, the plans of the court for the re-establishment of
tlie episcopal order. Finding that his labours on behalf of the church had been
attended with so little success, he would willingly have retired from public life,
and shut out all reflection on so unsatisfactory a retrospect in the performance
of his numerous parochial duties : but a sense of what he owed to the church
and to his friends in adversity induced him to continue his discouraging labour ;
and, accordingly, till he was ensnared into England, Avhence he was not al-
lowed to return, he made the most unwearied exertions in behalf of presby-
tery. Except the gratification the mind receives from marking the continued
struggles of a good man against adversity, the reader could feel little interest
in a minute detail of circumstances, which, with a few changes of place and
date, were often repeated. Vexation of mind and fatigue of body at length

JAMES MELVILLE. 19

brought on an illness in Api'il, 1601, which lasted about a year; but this did
not damp his zeal. When he could not appear among his brethren, and subse-
quent illness not unfrequently compelled him to be absent, he encouraged or
Avarned them by his letters. Every attempt was made to overcome or to gain
him. He was offered emoluments and honours, and when these could not shake
his resolution, he was threatened with prosecution ; but the latter affected him as
little. \\'hen he was told that the king hated him more than any man in Scot-
land, " because he crossed all his turns, and was a ringleader," he replied, in
the words of the poet,

Nee speraiis aliquid, nee cxtimesrens,
Exarmaveiis impotcntis iram.

His conduct on the first anniversary of the Gowrie conspii'acy, did not tend
to mitigate his majesty's wrath. An act of parliament had been passed, ordain-
ing it to be observed as a day of thanksgiving; but as this act had never re-
ceived the sanction of the church, Melville and others refused to comply with
it. They were, therefore, summoned by proclamation to appear before the.
council, and the king vowed that the offence should be considered capital.
They accordingly appeared : but his majesty, finding their determination to
vindicate their conduct, moderated his wrath, and dismissed them, after a few
words of admonition. The conduct of Melville, in relation to the ministers
imprisoned for holding the assembly at Aberdeen, was not less decided. A
short time before their trial, the earl of Dunbar requested a conference, in which
he regretted to him the state of aflairs, and promised that, if the warded ministers
would appease the king by a few concessions, the ambitious courses of the
bishops should be checked, and the king and church reconciled. With these
proposals, Melville proceeded to Blackness, the place of their confinement ; but
negotiation was too late, for the very next morning they were awakened by a
summons to stand their trial at Linlithgow. When they were found guilty of
treason, it was considered a good opportunity to try the resolution of their
brethren. To prevent all communication with each other, the synods were sum-
moned to meet on one day, when five articles, relative to the poAvers of the
General Assembly and the bishops, were proposed by the king's commissioners
for their assent. On this occasion, Melville was confined by illness; but he
wrote an animated letter to the synod of Fife, and had the satisfaction of hearing
that they and many others refused to comply. This letter was sent by lord
Scone, the commissioner, to the king; but the threat to make it the subject of
a prosecution does not appear to have been carried into effect.

The court, backed by the bishops, was now pursuing its intentions with less
caution than had formerly been found necessary. An act was passed by the
parliament of IGOG, recognizing the king as absolute prince, judge, and gover-
nor over all persons, estates, and causes, both spiritual and temporal, — restoring
the bishops to all their ancient honours, privileges, and emoluments, and reviving
the different chapters. Andrew Melville had been appointed by his brethren
to be present, and protest against this and anotlier act in prejudice of the chui'ch,
passed at the same time; but measures were taken to frustrate his purpose. No
sooner did he stand up, than an order was given to i-emove him, which Avas not
effected, however, until he had made his errand known. The protest was drawn
up by Patrick Simson, minister of Stirling, and the reasons for it by James Mel-
ville. The latter document, with which alone we are concerned, is written in
a firm and manly style, and shows in the clearest manner, that, in appointing
bishops, the parliament had in reality committed the whole government of the
church to the king, the prelates being necessarily dependent upon him.

20 JA]\IES MELVILLE.

Some months previous to tlie iiieetiii!^ of tliis j)arliatnciit, letters were direeted
to the two -Alehilles, and six other ministers, peremptorily desiring them to pro-
ceed to London heforc the 15th of September, to confer with the I<ing on such
measures as might promote the peace of the church. Althougli this was the al-
leged cause for demanding their presence at the iMiglisli court, there <!an be little
doubt that the real oliject of the king was to withdraw tlicm from a scene \vhero
tliey Avore .1 constant check upon Ills designs. Their intervieAvs with the king
and his prelates have been already notice<l in the life of Andrew IMelville, and
it is only necessary to state here, that, after many attempts, as paltry as tiiey
were unsuccessful, to win them over, to disunite them, and, when both these
failed, to lead them into expressions wliicli might afterwards be made the ground-
Mork of a prosecution, Andrew Melville was committed to the Tower of London.
At the same time, James was ordered to leave London uithin six days for New-
cnstle-upon-Tyne, beyond which he ^vas not to be permitted to go above ten miles,
on pain of rebellion. After an unsuccessful attempt to obtain some relaxation of
the rigour of his uncle's confinement, he sailed from London on the 2d of July,
1607.^ The confinement of James Melville at Newcastle, was attended by cir-
cumstances of a peculiarly painful nature. His wife was at this time in her last
illness, but notwithstanding the urgency of the case, he could not be allowed the
shortest period of absence ; he was, therefore compelled to remain in England,
with the most perfect knowledge that he must see his nearest earthly relation no
more, and without an opportunity of performing the last duties. It was con-
sidered a matter of special favour, that he was allowed to go to Anstruther for
the arrangement of his family affairs after her death ; and even this permission
A\ns accompanied by peremptory orders, that he should not jneacli nor attend
any meetings, and that he should return to England at the end of a month.

The opposition of Melville to episcopacy continued as steady during his
exile as it had been dui'ing the time of his ministry. When public disputations
were proposed, in the following year, between the ministers who had yielded to
the government and those who remained opposed, he disapproved of the plan,
and stated his objections at full length in a letter to Mr John Dykes. He con-
sidered such meetings by no means calculated for edification, and he well knew
that, were their opponents to be persuaded by argument, abundant opportunities
had already been aftbrded them. When the conferences were appointed to be
lield at Falkland and other places, he opposed them on the same grounds ; but,
as the measure had been already determined on, he advised his brethren by let-
ter to take every precaution for the regularity of their proceedings and the
safety of their persons. As Melville had anticipated, no good effect was pro-
duced ; the prelates were now quite independent of the goodness of their argu-
ments for the support of their cause, and felt little inclination to humble them-
selves so far as to contend with untitled presbyterians.

Notwithstanding the decided conduct of 31elville, several attempts were again
made, during his residence at Newcastle, to enlist him in the service of the
kino-. In the month of October, immediately following his sentence of banish-
ment, Sir William Anstruther ' waited on him. He was authorized by the king
to say that, if Melville would waive his opinions, his majesty Avould not only re-
ceive him into favour, but " advance him beyond any minister in Scotland."
Melville replied, that no man was more willing to serve the king- in his calling

3 M'Ciie's IMelville, second edition, vol. ii. p. 187. The date attached by Wodrow to
IMelville's embarkation, is the 2nd of June, and to his arrival at Newcastle, the 10th of that
month. — WodroiL'^s Life of Jaines Melville, p. 132.

* Wodrow's Life of James IMelville, p. 133. This gentleman is named Sir John Anstruther
by Dr IM'Crie ; Life of Melville, 2nd edit. vol. ii. p. 23-1.

JAMES MELVILLE. 21

than he, and that his majesty knew very well his affection — what service he had
done, and was willing to do in so far as conscience would suffer him ; adding
that the king found no fault nor ill with him that he knew of, but that he would
not be a bishop. " If in my judgment and my conscience," he concluded, after
some further remarks, " I thought it would not undo his majesty's monarchy and
tlie church of Ciirist within the same, and so bring on a fearful judgment, I
could as gladly take a bishopric and serve the king therein as I could keep my
breath within me, so far am I from delighting to contradict and oppone to his
majesty, as is laid to my charge ; for in all things, saving my conscience, his
majesty hath found, and shall find me most prompt to his pleasure and service."
With this reply the conversation ended.

Durino- his exile various attempts were made by his parishioners to obtain
leave for his return. In February, 1G08, the elders of the church of An-
struther prepared a petition with that view, to be presented to the commissioners
cf the General Assembly, and when through stratagem they were prevented
from presenting it, another was given in to the Assembly which met at Linlith-
gow in July, 1609. An application to the king on his behalf was promised;
but a reply which he made to a most unprovoked attack on the presbyterians in
a sermon by the vicar of Newcastle, afforded the bishops and their friends a
ready excuse for the non-fulfilment cf this px-omise. To preserve appearances,
the prelates did indeed transmit to court a representation in favour of the
banished ministers; but this is now ascertained to have been nothing more than
a piece of the vilest hypocrisy. A private letter was transmitted at the same
time, discouraging those very representations which in public they advocated,
and urging the continuation of their banishment in unabated rigour. Equally
unfavourable in their results, although we have less evidence of insincerity,
were the fair promises of the earl of Dunbar and of archbishop Spottiswood.^

We have already noticed the anxious, though unsuccessful, efforts of 3Ielville
in behalf of his uncle. During the whole period of the imprisonment of
Andrew Melville, his nephew's attentions were continued. He supplied his
uncle with money and such other necessaries as could be sent him, and received
in return the pi-oductions of his muse. About this period their correspondence,
which they maintained with surprising regularity, took a turn somewhat out of
its usual course. James Melville had now been for two years a widower ; he
had become attached to a lady, the daughter of the vicar of Berwick-upon«
Tweed, and he earnestly begged his uncle's advice. The match was con-
sidered unequal in point of years, and a long correspondence ensued, from
which it became evident, that, while James's respect for his uncle had led him
to request his advice, his feelings had previously become too strongly interested
to admit of any doubt as to the decision of the question. Finding his nephew's
happiness so deeply concerned in the result, Andrew Melville yielded, and the
marriage accordingly took place. Whatever may have been his fears, it is but
justice to state, that this connexion led to no compromise of principle, and that
it was attended with the happiest results.

It would seem that the bishops, not content with separating James 3Ielvil]e
from his brethren, still thought themselves insecure if he was allowed to remain

' Another representation in behalf of Melville appears to have been presented to the
Synod of Fife by his parishioners in 1610. Archbishop Gladstanes, the only authority for
this statement, writes thus on the subject to the king: " As for me, I will not advise jour
majesty any thing in this matter, because I know not what is the man's humour as )et, but
rather wish that, ere any such man get liberty, our turns tooksetling a while." Life of (ilad-
stanes in Wodrow's Biographical Collections, (printed for the Maitland Club,) vol. i,,
pp. 274, 275. So little confidence, does it appear, had the bishops in the stability of their
establishment.

22 JAMES MELVILLE.

at Newcastle. Tliey accordingly obtained an order for Iiis removal to Carlisle,
which was afterwards chanjied by the interest of his friends to Berwick.
About this period he was again urged by the earl of Dunbar to accede to the
wishes of tlie l<ing, but with as little success as formerly. That nobleman
therefore took him with him to Berwick, >\here he continued almost to the
date of his death. 'J his period of his life seems to have been devoted to a work
on the proper execution of which his mind was most anxiously bent — his
Apology for the Church of Scotland. This work, \\hich however he did not live
to see published, bears the title of " Jacobi Melvini libellus Supplex EcclesiiB
Scoticana; Apologeticus." It was printed at London and appeared in 1G45.

About the year I()12, Melville appears to have petitioned the king for
liberty to return to his native country. lie received for answer that he need
indulge no hopes but by submitting absolutely to the acts of the General As-
sembly of IGIO. Such conditions he would notof course accept, and he con-
sidered his return altogether hopeless. But the very measures Avhich the king
and the bishops had been pursuing were the means of carrying his wishes into
effect. The prelates had lately assumed a degree of hauteur which the nobility
could ill have brooked, even had they felt no jealousy of a class of men, who,
raised from comparative obscurity, now formed a powerful opposition to the ancient
councillors of the throne. They therefore determined to exert their influence
for the return of the ministers, and to second the representations of their congre-
gations and friends. In this even the bishops felt theiuselves obliged to join,
and tiiey at the same time determined upon a last attempt to obtain from the
ministers a partial recognition of their authority, but in this they were unsuccess-
ful. James Melville therefore obtained leave to return to Scotland, but it was now
too late. His mind had for some time brooded with unceasing melancholy over
the unhappy state of the church, and his health declined at the same time.
He had proceeded but a short way in his return home, when he was suddenly
taken ill, and was with ditliculty brought back to Berwick. Notwithstanding
the prompt administration of medicine, his complaint soon exhibited fatal symp-
toms; and, after lingering a few days, during which he retained the most perfect
tranquillity, and expressed the firmest convictions of the justice of the cause in
which he suffered, he gently expired in the fifty-ninth year of his age, and
eighth of ills banishment.

The character of Melville is so fully developed in the transactions of his life,
that if the present sketch is in any degree complete, all attempt at its further de-
lineation nuist be unnecessary. A list of his works will be found in the Notes
to Dr M'Crie's Life of Andrew Melville. Of these, one is bis Diary, which
has been printed as a contribution to the Bannatyne Club, and which has sup-
plied the materials for the present sketch up to 1601, where it concludes.
This Diary, combining, as it certainly does, perfect simplicity of style with a
thorough knowledge of its principles, — containing the most interesting notices
of liimself and other public men, while it is perfectly free from egotisui, — and,
above all, indicating throughout, the best feelings both of a Christian and a
gentleman, is one of the most captivating articles in the whole range of auto-
biographi(;;il history. It is no less remarkable than, in our estimation, it is un-
questionable, that the most interesting additions to Scottish history, brought to
light in our times, are written by persons of the same name. We allude to tho
Diary of James Melville, and the Memoirs of Sir James Melville, with which it
must not be confounded. There is one point, however, in Melville's Diary,
which must forcibly strike every one who is acquainted with its author's history,
— we mean the allusion in many parts of his narrative to whatever evils befell
the enemies of the church, as special instances of the Divine vengeance for their

SIR JAMES MELVILLE. 23

opposition to its measures. Its enemies were undoubtedly liiglily criminal ; but
this metliod of pronouncing judgment upon them cannot be defended upon any
ground of Scripture or charity.

But while we condemn this theory, in connexion with James Melville's name,
justice requires the admission, that it was by no means a peculiar tenet of his,
— it was the doctrine of an age, rather than of an individual. It is, moreover,
let it ever be remembered, to such men as Andrew and James Melville, that we
owe much of our present liberty ; and, but for their firmness in the maintenance
of those very principles which we are so apt to condemn, we might, still have been
acting those bloody scenes which have passed away with the reigns of Charles
and of James. They struggled for their children, — for blessings, in the enjoy-
ment of which they could never hope to participate. And let not us, who have
entered into their labours, in our zeal to exhibit our superior enlightenment,
forget or underrate our obligations. The days may come when our privileges
may be taken away ; and how many of those who condemn the zeal and the
principles of their forefathers, will be found prepared to hazard so much for
conscience' sake, or to exhibit even a small portion of their courage and self-
denied patriotism, in the attempt to regain them P

MELVILLE, (Sir) James, a courtier of eminence, and author of the well
known memoirs of his own life and times which bear his name. In that woi-k
he has made eflectual provision to keep posterity mindful of the events of his
life, and the following memoir Avill chiefly consist of an abridgment of the
facts he has himself detailed.^ He appears to have been born in the year
1535, His father was Sir John Melville of Kaith, one of the early jn-ops of
the I'eformed faith, who, after suffering from the hate of Beaton, fell a victim to
his successor, archbishop Hamilton, in 1549.^ Nor were his children, or his
widow, who Avas a daughter of Sir Alexander Napier of Blerchiston, spared
from persecution. James, who was the thii-d son, was, by the queen dowager's
influence and direction, sent at the age of fourteen, under the protection of the
French ambassador returning to France, to be a page of honour to the young-
queen of Scotland. The French ambassador Monluc, bishop of Valence, be-
sides his embassy to Scotland, had, before his return, to accomplish a secret mis-
sion to the malcontents of Ireland, who had begun to breathe a wish to cast ofi'
the yoke of England, and might have proved a very valuable acquisition to
France. To Ireland Melville accompanied him. Immediately on his arrival Sir
James encountered a love adventure, which he tells with much satisfaction. The
ship had been overtaken by a storm, and with difiiculty was enabled to land at
Lochfeul. They were entertained by O'Docherty, one of the bishop's friends,
who lived in " a dark tour," and fed his friends with such " cauld fair " as
" herring and biscuits," it being Lent. The bishop was observed to bend his
eyes so attentively on O'Docherty's daughter, that the prudent father thought it
right to provide him with the company of another female, in whose conduct he
had less interest or responsibility. This lady was so far accomplished as to be
able to speak English, but she produced an awkward scene by her ignorance
of etiquette, in mistaking a phial " of the only maist precious balm that grew
in Egypt, which Soliman the great Turc had given in a present to the said
bishop " for something eatable, " because it had ane odoriphant smell."
" Therefore she licked it clean out." The consequence of the bishop's rage
was the discovery of his unpriestly conduct. Meanwhile O'Docherty's young
daughter, who had fled from the bishop, was seized with a sudden attachment
for Melville. " She came and sought me wherever I was, and brought a priest

' From the beautiful edition of his memoirs printed by the Bnmiatjne Club, 1827.
" Wood's Peerage, ii. 112.

24 SIR JAMES MELVILLE.

uith licr that could speak luiglisli, ami offered, if I would marry her, to go
uith nic to any part wliidi I pleased."' I?ut James «as prudent at fourleen. lie
thanked her, said that lie was yet younjr, that he had no rents, and was hound for
France. With the assistance of Wauchope, archbishop of Armagh (a Scotsman)
Monluc proceeded with his mission. From O'Docherty's house they went to
the duelling of the bishop of Hoy. Here they were detained until the arrival
of a Highland boat, whicii ;\as to convey them to Scotland, and after more
storms and dangers, losing their rudder, they at length landed at Bute.
In the person to whom the boat belonged, JMelville found a friend, James
IM'Conell of Kiltyre, who had experienced acts of kindness froiu his father.
Soon after their return to Scotland, iMehille sailed with the ambassador to
France, and landed on the coast of Brittany. The bish.op proceeding by post
to Paris, left his young protegj to the attendance of " tua young Scottis gen-
tlemen," who were instructed to be careful of him on the way, and to provide
liim with the necessary expenses, which should be afterwards refunded to them.
The three young men bought a nag each, and afterwards fell into company
with three additional companions, a Frenchman, a Spaniard, and a Briton, all
travelling in the same direction. At the end of their fust day's journey from
Brest, they all took up their night's rest in a chamber containing three beds.
The two Frenchmen and the two Scotsmen slept together. Melville was ac^
couipanied by the Spaniard. In this situation he discovered himself to be the
subject of plot and counterplot. He first heard the Scotsmen — with much sim-
plicity certainly, when it is remembered that a countryman was within hearing —
observe, that as the bishop had directed them to purvey for their companion,
" therefoi'e we will pay for his ordinair all the way, and sail compt up twice as
nieikle to his master when we come to Paris, and so sail won our own ex-
jienses."^ This was a good solid discreet speculation, but it need not have been
so plainly expressed. While it was hatching, the Frenchmen in the next
bed were contemplating a similar plot, on the security of the ignorance of
French on the part of their companions, and their inexperience of French
travelling, proposing simply to pay the tavern bills themselves, and charge a
handsome premium " sufficient to pay their expenses" for their trouble. Mel-
ville says he could not refrain " laughing in his mind." The Frenchmen he
easily managed, but the Scotsmen were obdurate, insisting on their privilege of
paying his charges, and he found his only recourse to be a separate enumeration
of the charges, and the " louns " never obtained payment of their overcharge.
But the Frenchmen were resolved by force to be revenged on the detecter of
their cunning. In the middle of a wood they pi'ocured two bullies to interrupt
and attack the travellers, and when Melville and his friends drew, they joined
their hired champions. But Melville, by his own account, was never discomfited,
and when they saw their " countenance and that they made for defence," they
pretended it was mere sport. Melville informs us, how, after his arrival at
Paris, his friend the bishop was called to Rome, and himself left behind to
learn to play upon the lute and to write French. In the month of May, 1553,
Melville appears to have disconnected himself from the bishop, of whom lie
gives some curious notices touching his proficiency in the art magique and
mathematique, and came into the service of the constable of France, an oftice in
the acquisition of which he was much annoyed by the interference of a captain
Ringan Cocburn, " a busy medlar." At this point in his progress the narrator
stops to offer up thanks for his good fortune. As a pensioner of France, he
became attached to the cause of that country in the war with Charles V., and
was present at the siege of St Quentin, where his patron the constable was
' Memoirs, p. 13. partially modernized in ortliogrnphy.

SIR JAMES MELVILLE. 25

wounded and taken prisoner, and himself ** being evil hurt with a stroke of
a mass upon the liead, was mounted again by liis servant upon a Scots gelding,
that carried him home through the enemies who were all bettveen him and
home ; and two of theui struck at his head with swords, because his head piece
was tane off after the first rencounter that the mass liad enforced, and the two
were standing between him and home, to keep prisoners in a narrow strait ;"
but Melville's horse ran between them " against his will," as he candidly tells,
and saved his master by clearing a wall, after which he met his friend Harry
Kiliigrew, who held the steed, while its master entered a barber's shop to have
his wounds dressed. Melville appears to have attended the constable in his
captivity, and along with him was present at the conference of Chateau Cam-
bresis, the consequence of which he states to be " that Spayne obtained all their
desires : the Constable obtained liberty : the Cardinal of Lorraine could not
mend himself, no nioi-e than the commissioners of England." After the peace,
the king, at the instigation of the constable, formed the design of sending Mel-
ville to Scotland to negotiate its terms with reference to this country, and to
check the proceedings of Murray, then prior of St Andrews, and the rising in-
fluence of the Lords of the Congregation. The cardinal of Lorraine, however,
liad influence sufficient to procure this office for Monsieur De Buttoncourt, a
person whose haughty manner, backed with the designs of the " Holy alliance"
he represented, served to stir up the flame he was sent to allay, and the more
prudent Melville, whose birtli and education certainly did not qualify him to
conduct such a mission with vigour, or even integrity to his employers,
was sent over with instructions moderate to the ear, but strong in their
import. A Avar for mere religion was however deprecated ; the constable shrewd-
ly observing, that they had enough to do in ruling the consciences of their own
countrymen, and must leave Scotsmen's souls to God. Melville was instructed
" to seem only to be there for to visit his friends." He found the queen regent
in the old tower of Falkland, in bitterness of spirit from the frustration of her
ambitious designs. Quietly and stealthily the emissary acquired liis secret infor-
mation. The ostensible answer he brought with him to France was, that the jirior
of St Andrews did not aspire to the crown ; a matter on which the bearings were
probably sufficiently known at the court of Fi-ance without a mission. Such,
however, is the sum of what he narrates as his answer to the constable, who ex-
hibited great grief that the accidental death of Henry, which had intervened,
and his own dismission, prevented a king and prime minister of France from
reaping the fruit of Melville's cheering intelligence. Scotsmen becoming at
that time unpopular in France, Melville obtained the royal permission to travel
through other parts of the continent. With reconnnendations from his friend
the constable, he visited the court of the elector Palatine, where he was advised
to remain and learn the Dutch tongue, and was courteously I'eceived. At the
death of Francis II., he returned to France as a messenger of condolence
for the departed, and congratulation to the successor, from the court of the
Palatine. He returned to the Palatine, with " a fair reward, worth a thousand
crowns;" whether to the Palatine or himself, is not clear. When Melville per-
ceived queen Mary about to follow the advice of those who recommended her
return to Scotland, he called on her with the offer of his " most humble and
dutiful service;" and the queen gave him thanks for the opinions she heard of
his affection touards her service, and desired him, when he should think fit to
leave Germany, to join her service in Scotland. The cardinal of Lorraine,
among his other projects, having discovered the propriety of a marriage betwixt
Mary and the archduke Charles of Austria, brother to Maximilian, Melville
was deputed by secretary Maitland to discover what manner of man this Charles

26 SIR JAMES MELVILLE.

might happen to be ; to inquire as to his religion, his rents, his fjualities, his
age, and stature. Rlelvilie liad a very discreet and confidential meeting with
Maximilian, who made diligent inquiry as to the intentions of tlie queen of
Scots and her subjects, regarding liie alleged right to the English throne ; while
it struck the wily Scot, that he was not particularly anxious to advance his
brother to a throne, presently that of Scotlatid, but not unlikely to be that of
the island of liritain. To obtain such information as might prove a sure foot-
ing for iiis future steps, he procured his companion, Mons. Zuleger, to drink
with the secretaries of Maximilian, and ascertained liis suspicions to be well
founded. Notwithstanding a cordial invitation to join the court of 31aximilian,
(no other man ever had so many sources of liveliiiood continually springing up
in his path,) IMelville returned to the Palatine. On his way he enjoyed a tour
of pleasure, passing to Venice and Rome, and returning through Switzerland
to Heidelberg, where the elector held his court. He afterwards revisited
Paris on a matrimonial scheme, concocted by the queen-mother, betwixt her
son and 3Iaximilian's eldest daughter, acting in the high capacity of the bearer
of a miniature of the lady. The welcomes of his friend the constable, not on
the best of terms with the queen-mother, seem now to have fallen with far less
cordiality on the heart of Melville, and lie seems to have looked with some
misliking at that dignitary's taking the opportunity of presenting the picture,
to appear at court, where " he sat down upon a stool, and held his bonnet upon
his head, taking upon him the full authority of his great office, to the queen-
mother's gx-eat misliking." While at Paris, he received despatches from Mur-
ray and secretary jMaitland, requesting his immediate return to his native coun-
try, to be employed in the service of the queen, a mandate which he obeyed.
Meanwhile the Palatine and his son, duke Casimer, showed an ambition for a
union of the latter with Elizabeth of England ; a measure which Melville found
curious grounds for dissuading, in fulfilment of his principle of using sudi influ-
ence as lie might conmiand, to interfere with the appearance of an heir to the
ci'own of England. But Melville could not refuse the almost professional duty
of conveying the young duke's picture to England. He obtained an intervie\v
with Elizabeth, who was more attentive to the subject of the marriage of queen
Mary, than to her own ; expressing disappi'obation of a union with the arch-
duke Charles, and recommending her favourite Dudley. He proceeded to
Scotland, and was received by Mary at Perth, on the 5th May, 1564. He
was informed that it had been the queen's intention to have employed him in
Gei-many, but she had now chosen for him a mission to England. He is most
amiable in his motives for folloAving the young queen. He was loth to lose
" the occasions and offers of preferment that was made to him in France and
other parts: but the queen was so instant and so well inclined, and showed her-
self endowed with so many princely virtues, that he thought it would be against
good conscience to leave her, requiring so earnestly his help and service ;" so
that, in short, he " thought her more worthy to be served for little profit, than
any other prince in Europe for great commodity." He proceeded to England
with ample instructions, the amicable purport of which, either as they were really
delivered, or as Melville has chosen to record them, is Avell known to the read-
ers of history. Melville made sundry inquiries at " very dear friends" attend-
ing the court of Elizabeth, as to his best method of proceeding with the haughty
queen ; and having, on due consideration, established in his mind a set of
canons for the occasion, stoutly adhered to them, and found the advantage of
doing so. Ke was peculiarly cautious on the subject of the marriage ; he re-
mained to witness the installation of Dudley as earl of Leicester and baron of
Denbigh, cautiously avoiding any admission of the propriety of countenancing

SIR JAMES MELVILLE. 27

a union betwixt him and the queen, while he bestowed on him as much pi-aise
as Elizabeth chose to exact, and consented to join in invectives against the per-
sonal appearance of Darnley — his being " lang, histy, beardless, and lady-
faced," <kc. — " albeit," continues the narrator, " I had a secret charge to pur-
chase leave for him to pass in Scotland, where his father was already." Mel-
ville spent nin^ days at the court of England, and made excellent use of his
time. His memorial of the period contains many most ingenious devices, by
which he contrived to support the honour of the queen of Scotland, while
he flattered the queen of England on her superiority. He delighted her
much, by telling her the Italian dress became her more than any other one, be-
cause he saw she preferred it herself, — this was no disparagement to his own
queen. He said they were both the fairest women in their country ; and, be-
ing driven to extremities, told Elizabeth he thought her the whiter, but that his
own queen was very " luesome ;" leaving tiie inference, when Elizabeth chose
to make it, that she was as much more " luesome" as she was whiter, though by
no means making so discreditable an admission. It happened fortunately that the
queen of Scotland, being taller than the queen of England, the latter decided
tlie former to be too tall. Melville, «ho had no foresight of the more enlarged
opinions of posterity, reviews all his petty tricks and successful flatteries, with
the air of one claiming praise for acts which increase the happiness of the hu-
man race. The following paragraph is exemplary to all courtiers. He had
been giving moderate praise to the musical abilities of Mary. " That same day
after dinner, my lord of Ilunsden drew me up to a quiet gallery, that I might
hear some music ; but he said he durst not avow it, where I niigiit hear the
queen play upon the virginals. But after I had hearkened a while, I took by
tlie tapestry that hung before the door of the chamber, and seeing her back was
towards the door, I entered within the chamber, and stood still at the door
cheek, and heard her play excellently well ; but she left oft' so soon as she
turned about and saw me, and came forward, seeming to strike me with her
left hand, and to think shame ; alleging that she used not to play before men,
but when she was solitary her alane, to eschew melancholy ; and asked how I
came there, I said, as I was walking with my L. of Hunsden, as I passed by
the chamber door, I heard such melody that ravished and drew me within the
chamber I wist not how ; excusing my fault of homelyness, as being brought up
in the court of France, and was willing to sufter what kind of punishment would
please her lay upon me for my offence." The result was, that he acknow-
ledged Elizabeth a better musician than Mary, and she said his French was good.
After so much politeness, the opinion of Elizabeth, which he retailed to Mary,
was, " there was neither plain dealing, nor upright meaning, but great dissi-
mulation,— emulation that her (Mary's) princely qualities should over soon chase
iier out and displace her from the kingdom."

The next public duty in which Melville was engaged, was as bearer of the
intelligence of the birth of the prince, afterwards James VI., to the court of
England, for which purpose he left Edinburgh on the 19th June, 1566. He
found Elizabeth dancing after supper, in a state of jovialty and merriment,
which was momentarily quashed on the reception of what she termed the wel-
come intelligence. But next morning the queen had prepared herself to receive
her complimentary friend, who had excused his homeliness on the ground of
his having been brought up in France, and the spirit of their previous confer-
ence was renewed ; the courtier turning his complimentary allusions into a very
hideous picture of the evils of marriage, as experienced by his own queen, that
no little bit of endeavour on his part, (according to his avowal,) might be lost,
conducive to settling in the mind of the English queen, a solid detestation of

28 SIR JAMES MELVILLE.

iiiatriniony. He taUes credit to liiiiiself for liaving given sage nnd excellent ad-
vice to tlio Scoltisli (jueeii, on the occtiirence of lier various iinforttinato predi-
lections, j)arti<;iilarly on liir conduct towards Hothuell during llie life of Uarn-
ley, and liapj»ened to be among tliose attendants of the (jiieen who were so very
easily taken prisoners by the aspirant to tiie crown. After this event, he con-
sidered it prudent to obtain leave to return iionie, and enjoy his " rents;" but
so long as he was able to transact messages and carry pictures, the atnut.sphere of
a court seems to have been to him the breath of life ; he api>ear8 to have waited
in quiet expectation for whatever little transactions might fall to his lot, and,
aniiing other occasions, was present at the marriage of the queen to Jjothwell,
after that nobleman's " fury" against him, before which he had been obliged to
flee on account of his advice to the queen, " more honest than wise," had been
propitiated. On the formation of the party for crowning the young prince, he
WHS, as far as his book is concerned, still a zealous servant of his fallen mistress.
lie was chosen commissioner or emissary to the opposite party, — a post he de-
clined to accept, until advised to become the instrument of peace, by 31aitland,
Kirkaldy, and " other secret favourers of the queen,' On the same principle
of attention to the interests of JMary, he acted as emissary to meet 3Iurray at
Berwick, on his approaching Scotland to assume the regency. He was equally
accommodating in furthering the introduction of Lennox, and was engaged in
his usual employments under 3Iar and 3Iorton. It uoiild be tedious to follow
him in his list of negotiations, any thing which is important in tiiem being more
nearly concerned with the history of tiie times, than with the subject of our
memoir. T!ie character in which he acted is sufKciently exemplified by the de-
tails already unfolded ; and it would require more labour and discernment than
most men command, to determine for what party he really acted, or on what
principles of national policy he combated. It may be mentioned, that he al-
leges the busy temper of finding fault with the proceedings of the great, with
which he so complacently charges himself on divers occasions, to have lost him
the countenance of 3Iorton, »vhile with superlative generosity he recommended
the laird of Carmichael to avoid a similar course; and the laird, profiting by the
advice, forgot that injured man, the giver of it. When James wished to tree
himself from the unceremonious authors of the Kaid of Kuthven, he requested
the counsel and assistance of 31elville, who, although he had taken leave of the
court, and resolved to live " a quiet contemplative life all the rest of his days,"
gi'aciously assented to the royal petition. He read his majesty a lecture on the
conduct of young princes, and assisted in enabling him to attend the convention
at St Andrews ; or, according to his own account, was the sole procurer of his
liberty. He was appointed a gentleman of tlie bedchamber, and a member of
the privy council ; but Arran, whom he opposed, managed to supplant him,
notwithstanding an unmercifully long letter, reminding James of his services,
and the royal promises, and bestowing much advice, useful for governors. He
was deprived of his oflices, and had no more opportunity " to do good." But
he was not entirely excluded from the sun of royalty ; he was directed to pre-
pare instructions for himself as an ambassador to the court of England, and held
a long conference with the king about the state of the nation, full of much sage
advice. He was appointed to " entertain " the three Danish ambassadors, ^\hosc
mission concerning the restoration of the islands of Orkney, terminated in the
king's marriage with a Danish princess: and when these gentlemen were plunged
into a state of considerable rage at their reception, he was found a most use-
ful and pacific mediator. He was appointed the co7ifidential head of that
embassy proposed to Allry, and afterwards accepted by tiie earl IMarischal, for
bringing over the royal bride ; but he had arrived at that period of life, when

WILLIAM MESTON. 29

he found it necessary or agreeable to resign lucrative missions. The portion of
his memoirs referring to this period, introduces a vivid description of the machi-
nations of the uitches to impede the wishes of king James, by uhich a relation
of his own was drowned in crossing the frith of Forth. On the arrival of the
queen, Melville was presented to her as her counsellor, and gentleman of her
bedchamber. His last public duty appears to have been that of receiving the
presents of the ambassadors at the christening of Prince Henry. He declined
following James to his new dominions, but afterwards paid him a visit, and was
kindly received at the English court. His latter days appear to have been spent
in preparing his memoirs, so often quoted as a model of wisdom for the guidance
of his descendants. Two mutilated editions of this curious work were published
in English, besides a Frencii translation, before the discovery of the original manu-
scripts, which had passed through the hands of the Marchmont family, produced
the late genuine edition. Sir James died on the 1st November, lG07,*in the
eighty-second year of his age. In his character there seems little eitiier to re-
spect or admire ; but it is to be remembered that he lived in an age, when those
who were not murderers or national traitors, were of a comparatively high stan-
dard of morality.

MESTON, AViLLiAM, an ingenious and learned poet of the eighteenth century,
was born in the parish of Mid-Mar, Aberdeenshire, about the year 1688. His
pai-ents were in huuible circumstances, but, by submitting to privations them-
selves, they contrived to give their son a liberal education. Having acquired
the earlier rudiments of learning at a country school, he was sent to the Blaris-
chal college, Aberdeen, where he made such proficiency, that, on the completion
of his studies, he was elected one of the doctors of the high school of New
Aberdeen. In this situation he continued for some time, discharging its duties
with an assiduity and talent which procured him much respect and considerable
popularity as a teacher. While thus employed, his reputation and qualifications
attracted tiie notice of the noble family of Marischal, and he was chosen
to be preceptor and governor to the young earl, and his brother, the celebrated
Marshal Keith. Of this trust he acquitted himself so well, that, on the occur-
rence of a vacancy in 1714, in the office of professor of philosophy in Marischal
college, he was appointed to it through the influence of the countess Marischal.
This office he also filled with great ability, and with universal approbation ;
but he was permitted to retain it only for a very short time. In the following
year, 1715, the civil war broke out, and JMeston, adhering to the political
principles of his patrons, lost his professorship. To compensate this depriva-
tion, he was made governor of Dunotter castle, by the earl Marischal ; a singu-
lar enough change of profession, but sufficiently characteristic of tiie times.

After the battle of Sherifi' muir, Meston, with sevei-al others of his party, fled
to the hills, where they skulked till the act of indemnity was passed, Avhen they
returned to their homes.

During the time of his concealment, Meston composed, for the amusement of
his companions, several of those humorous poetical efllisions which he has en-
titled Mother Grim's Tales, and which were published in I'dinburgh in
1767. Steady to his political principles, he refused after his retui-n, to yield
obedience to the new dynasty, and thus cut himself off from every chance
of being restored to his former appointment ; an event which might otherwise
have taken place. In these circumstances, destitute of employment, and equally
destitute of the means of subsistence, he accepted an invitation from the

* Wood's Peerage, ii. 112. The introduction to the last edition of his works, sajs aged 72.
This is inconsistent with liis having been 14 jtais of age in 1549, when he accompanied
IVloiiluc to France.

30 -U'lLLIAM MESTON.

countess M.irisclial lo reside in her family, and availed himself <if her liospitaiit.y
till her death ; contribuling largely to llie entertainment of all her guests by
liis uit, and by the exercise of a singularly happy vein of jileasantry which he
possessed.

On the death of the countess, Bleston was again left destitute, and for some
years continued in very straitened circumstances. At the end of this period he
opened an academy at I'-lgin, in conjunction with his brother, IMr Samuel IMes-
Ijn, uho was eminently skilled in the Greek language. For some years the
academy throve well, and yielded its teachers a comfortable living, IMeston
gave instructions in all the branches of learning taught at universities, became
popular as a teacher, and by his assiduity acquired the unlimited confidence of
his employers. His success, however, in place of operating as an incitement to
further exertion, seems to have thrown him oti' his guard. Always of a social
disposition, he now became a thorough-paced boon companion ; and betook
liimself with a devotion and cordiality ta his book, his bottle, and his friend,
which was wholly incompatible with his success as a teacher. The consequence
Avas, that in a few years the academy fell so much away that he gave it up, and
removed to Turetf, a village on the northwest limits of Aberdeenshire, to which
he had been invited by the countess of Errol, who knew and appreciated
his talents. From this lady IMeston received, after his removal, much kind-
ness. She allowed him the use of the family lodging in the village rent-free,
and sent him many presents from time to time to better his housekeeping. The
academy also succeeded well, and continued to improve during several years,
until an unfortunate occurrence suddenly terminated its existence.

Two of Meston's young gentlemen having quarrelled while playing at shut-
tle-cock, one of them drew a knife and stabbed the other in the breast. The
wound was not fatal, but the parents of the other children became alarmed for
their safety ; and though no blame whatever could attach to the master in what
had happened, they were all removed, and poor Meston was left without a
pupil.

Driven from Tureff, Meston Avent next to Montrose, where he attempted to
open another academy, but without success. From Montrose he removed to
Perth, and here found some employment in his profession of teaching, but was
in a short time afterwards taken into the family of Mr Oliphant of Gask as a
private preceptor. In this situation he remained for several years, when, falling
into a bad state of health, he resigned it, and removed to Peterhead for the
benefit of its mineral waters. The unfortunate poet was now once more re-
duced to utter destitution, with the aggravation of a debilitated frame and failing
constitution. For this luckless hour he had made no provision. With the
true spirit of a poet, he had always entertained a most sublime contempt for
money, and for all habits of economy ; spending to-day what he had acquired
to-day, and boldly leaving to-morrow to provide for itself. The comforts, how-
ever, which he was unable to procure for himself in his sickness, were liberally
supplied to him by a generous friend. His old patroness, the countess of Errol,
furnished him with every necessary and comfort which his infirmities and for-
lorn condition required, even to the fitting out of his apartment. Finding no
benefit to his health from his residence at Peterhead, he removed to Aberdeen,
where he died in the spring of 1745, and was buried in the Spittal churchyard
of Old Aberdeen.

Meston was esteemed one of the best classical scholars of his time. He was
also an excellent mathematician. As a poet his fame is now reduced to very
narrow limits. His poetry is, we believe, scarcely known to the present
generation ; and yet it would seem to merit a better fate, were it not perhaps

WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLB. 31

for its gi-ossiiess and indelicacy. He was a slavish imitator of Butler in style
and manner ; and it is not improbably owing to this circumstance, which neces-
sarily excluded originality, that his otherwise clever poems have so soon sunk
into oblivion. But though a copyist of style and manner, Meston had a genius
of his own, and that of a pretty high order. In many instances his poetry ex-
hibits scintillations of wit and humour not inferior to the brightest in the pages
of Hudibras. A volume of his poems, containing The Knight, Mother Grim's
Tales, and several otiier miscellaneous pieces, was published, as already noticed,
in Edinburgh in 1767, and this is, we believe, all that remains of Meston, a
man of very considerable genius, and " a fellow of infinite jest."

MICKLE, William Julius, (originally Meikle,) the translator of Camoens'
Lusiad, and an original poet of considerable merit, was one of the sons of the
Rev. Alexander Meikle, who in early liie was a dissenting clergyman in London,
and assistant to Dr Watt, but finally settled as minister of the parish of Lang-
holm, in Uumfries-shire, where the subject of this memoir wns born, in 1734,
The mother of tiie poet was Julia Henderson, of a good family in Mid Lothian.
The Hev. Mr Meikle, whose learning is testified by his having been employed
in the translation of Bayle's Dictionary, was liis son's first teacher. The young
poet was afterwards, on the death of his father, sent to reside in Edinburgh,
with his aunt, the wife of Mr Blyrtle, an eminent brewer; there he attended the
High School for some years. It is said, however, that, though his passion for
poetry was early displayed, he was by no means attached to literature in gen-
eral, till the age of thirteen, when, Spenser's Fairy Queen falling in his way,
he became passionately fond of that author, and immediately began to imitate
his manner. At sixteen, Mickle was called from school to keep the accounts of
his aunt, who, having lost her husband, carried on the business on her own ac-
count. Not long after, he was admitted to a share in the business, and his pros-
pects were, at the outset of life, extremely agreeable. For reasons, however,
which have not been explained, he was unfortunate in trade ; and about the
year 17G.S, became bankrupt. Without staying to obtain a settlement with his
creditors, he proceeded to London, tried to pi-ocure a commission in the marine
sei'vice, but, the war being just then concluded, failed in his design. Before
leaving the Scottish capital, he had devoted himself, only too much, perhaps, to
poetry. At eighteen, he had composed two tragedies and half an epic poem,
besides some minor and occasional pieces. Being now prompted to try what
poetry could do for him, he introduced himself and several of his pieces to the
notice of lord Lyttelton, who, it is understood, conceived a respectful opinion of
his abilities, and recommended him to persevere in versification, but yielded him
no more substantial proof of favour.

Mickle appears to have been rescued from these painful circumstances, by be-
ing appointed corrector to the Clarendon press, at Oxford. This was a situa-
tion by no means worthy of his abilities ; but, while not altogether uncongenial
to his taste, it had the advantage of leaving him a little leisure for literary pur-
suits, and thus seemed to secure to him what has always been found of the
greatest consequence to friendless men of genius, — a fixed routine of duties, and
a steady means of livelihood, while a portion of the mental energies are left
salient for higher objects. Accordingly, from tlie year 1765, Mickle published
a succession of short poems, some of which attracted considex'able notice, and
made him known respectfully to the world of letters. He also ventured into the
walk of religious controversy, and wi'ote pamphlets against Voltaire and Mr
Harewood, besides contributing frequently to the newspaper called the White-
hall Evening Post.

In his early youth, he had perused Castara's translation of the Lusiad of Camoens.

33 WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE.

and ever since had entertained the design of executing an English version. He
now, for the first time, found leisure and encouragement to attempt so laborious
a task. The first canto uas published as a specimen in 1771, and met Avith so
much approbation, as to induce him to abandon his duties at Oxford, and de-
vote himself entirely to this more pleasing occupation. Having retired to a
farm house at l\)rest-hill, he applied himself unreiuittingly to the labour, sub-
sisting upon the money which he drew from time to time as subscriptions for his
work. In 1775, the version was completed ; and, that no means niij;ht be want-
ing for obtaining it a favourable reception, he published it, \vith a de<licati{in to
a nobleman of high influence, with whom his family had been connected. The
work obtained a large measure of public approbation, which it has ever since re-
tained ; but its reception with the patron was not what the translator Jiad been
led to expect, A copy was bound in a most expensive manner, and sent to that
high personage ; but, months passing on without any notice even of its receipt,
a friend of the poet, in high official situation, called upon his lordship, to learn,
if possible, the cause of his silence. He found that some frivolous literary ad-
versary of 31ickle had prejudiced the noble lord against the work, and that the
presentation copy Avas, till that moment, unopened. We have here, perhaps,
one of the latest instances of that prostration of genius before the shrine of
rank, which was formei'ly supposed to be so indispensable to literary success,
but was, in reality, even in the most favourable instances, only productive of
paltry and proximate advantages. The whole system of dedication was an ab-
surdity. Books were in reality written for the public, and to the public did
their authors look for that honour which forms the best motive for literary exer-
tion. To profess to devote their works more particularly to some single member
of the community, was an impertinence to all the rest, that ought B«ver to have
been practised ; and we might the more readily denounce the above instance of
'■ patrician meanness," as Mickle's first biogi-apher terms it, if we could see any
rationality in the author expecting so much more from one individual, for his
labours, than from another.

During the progress of his translation, IMickle composed a tragedy, under the
title of the Siege of fliarseilles, which was shown to Garrick, and rejected
on account of its want of stage effect. It was then revised and altered by I\Ir
Home, author of the tragedy of Douglas ; and a proposal was made to the au-
thor to bring it forward in the Edinburgh theatre. This idea was afterwards
abandoned, and the tragedy remained in abeyance till the conclusion of the
Lusiad, when the author made another effort to bring it out on the London
stage. It was shown to IMr Harris of Covent Garden, and again rejected. Af-
ter this repulse, Blickle relinquished all expectations of advantage from the
theatre, though he permitted the unfortunate play to be shown to Sheridan,
from whom he never again received it.

The Lusiad was so Avell received, that a second edition was found necessary
in 1779. In the same year, Mickle published a pamphlet on the India ques-
tion, \vhich was at one time expected to obtain for him some marks even of royal
favour. In May, the most fortunate incident in his life took place. His friend,
IMr Johnston, formerly governor of South Carolina, was then appointed to the
commaud of the Romney man-of-war, and IMickle, being chosen by him as his
secretary-, went out to sea in his company, in order to partake of whatever good
fortune he might encounter, during a cruise against the Spaniards. In Novem-
ber, he arrived at Lisbon, where he was received with very flattering marks of at-
tention, and stayed six months, during which time he collected many traits of the
Portuguese character and customs, with the intention, never fulfilled, of com-
bining them in a book. During his residence in Portugal, he wrote his best

JOHN MILLAR, 33

poem, Almada Hill, which was published in 1781. The cruise had been highly
successful, and Mickle, being; appointed joint agent for the prizes, Avas sent
home to superintend the legal proceedings connected with their condemnation.
His own share of the results was very considerable, and, together with the for-
tune he acquired by his wife, whom he married in June, 1782, at once established
his independence. The remainder of his life was spent in literary leisure, at
Wheatley, in Oxfordshire, where he died, October 25, 1788, after a short ill-
ness, leaving one son. Mickle's poems are not voluminous, and have been
eclipsed, like so much of the other verse of the last century, by the infinitely
superior productions of the present or immediately by-past age. Many of
them, however, show considerable energy of thought ; others, great sweetness
of versification ; and his translation has obtained the rank of a classic. It is not
to be overlooked, moreover, that the authorship of one exquisite song in his
native dialect, Colins' Welcome, is ascribed to him, though not upon definite
grounds.

After Mickle's death, his Scottish creditors revived their claims upon his ex-
ecutors. An Edinburgh agent, named Henderson, having got the debts vested
in his own person, raised an action in England for their recovery. Not having
furnished himself with the necessary vouchers, he lost his action, with costs,
whicii tiie executors employed another Scottish agent to recover. This latter
individual — to whom we are indebted for some of the information in the pre-
sent memoir — being aware that the debts might have still been available in a
Scottish court, succeeded in getting the business managed extra-judicially ; so
that the poet's representatives were no more troubled with his Scottish creditors.

MILLAR, John, professor of law in the university of Glasgow, and author
of the Historical View of the English Government, >vas born on the 22nd
of June, 1735, in the parish of Shotts, of which his father, the Rev. Mr James
Millar, was minister. Two years after his birth, his fatlier was translated to
Hamilton, and he was himself placed under the charge of his uncle, Mr Jolin
Millar of Milhaugh, in the neighbouring parish of Blantyre, where he spent
almost all his early years. Having been taught to read by his uncle, he was
placed in 1742, at the school of Hamilton, in order to be instructed in Latin
and Greek. In 1746, being designed for the church, he went to Glasgow
college, where he distinguished himself as an attentive and intelligent student.
He had the advantage of the society of Dr CuUen, (then professor of cJiemislry
at Glasgow,) to whose wife he was related, and of the acquaintance of other per-
sons distinguished by their intelligence. He was particularly foi-tunate in ob-
taining the friendship of Dr Adam Smith, whose lectures and conversation first
directed his attention to the particular line of research in which he afterwards
became so eminent. As his mind expanded, he found that the clerical pro-
fession was not agreeable to his tastes or faculties, and he accordingly adopted
the resolution of studying for the Scottish bar. About the time when his col-
lege studies were finished, he became preceptor to the eldest son of lord Kames,
in whose society he spent two years, during which he formed an intimacy with
David Hume and other eminent persons. " It seldom happens," says the
Edinburgh Review, " that we can trace the genealogy of a literary progeny so
correctly as the two circumstances which have now been mentioned, enable us
to do that of Rlr Millar's future studies. It is perfectly evident to all who are
acquainted with their writings, that his speculations are all formed upon the
model of those of lord Kames and Dr Smith ; and that his merit consists almost
entirely in the accuracy with which he surveyed, and the sagacity with which
he pursued, the path which they had the merit of discovering. It was one
great object of those original authors to trace back the history of society to its

31 JOHN MILLAR.

most simple and universal elements ; to resolve almost all that has been ascribed
to positive institution, to tbe spontaneous Rnd irresistible development of cer-
tain obvious principles, — and to siiow ^vitll bow little contrivan<;e or politic^il
\visdom tbe most complicated and apparently artifi(°ial schemes ot" policy might
have been erected. This is very nearly tbe precise definition of what Mr Mil-
lar aimed at accomplishing in his lectures and bis piiblii-ations ; and when we
find that he attended tbe lectures of l)r Smilii, and lived in tbe family of lord
Karnes, we cannot hesitate to ascribe tbe bent of his genius, and tbe peculiar
tenor of bis specidations, to the impressions he must have received from those
early occurrences."

Mv Millar was called to tbe bar in 17fi0, and was soon looked upon as one of
the individuals likely to rise to eminence in bis profession ; but having married
at this early stage of bis career, and finding it improbable that his labours at
the bar would for some years be adequate to bis support, he was tempted by an
opportune vacancy in tbe chair of civil law in Glasgow college, to apply for
that comparatively obscure situation. Having been successful in his object,
(1761,) he applied himself with all the ardour of an uncommonly active and
sanguine temperament, to the improvement of the class. Heretofore the pro-
fessorship of civil law at Glasgow bad been in a gi'eat measure useless to tbe
community. The students were seldom more than four in number, and some-
times even less. The late professor, however, liad broken through the estab-
lished usage of lecturing in Latin, and Mr IMillar not only persevered in tbe
same popular course, but adopted other means calculated to attract a larger au-
dience. Instead of writing bis lectures — a practice which generally induces the
professor to adbei'e to one train of ideas, and resist the introduction of all pro-
gressive improvements, he delivered tbeni extempore, and thus not only took a
prompt advantage of every new view that arose in tbe progress of his science,
but enabled himself to introduce familiar and lively illustrations, which were
calculated to excite and keep alive tbe attention of his students to an uncommon
degree. Discarding the old academical pomp, he reduced himself to a level
with his hearers ; he talked to them, and carefully observed that they under-
stood all that he said, and acceded to all his propositions. '* His manner,"
says the Edinburgh Review,' " was familiar and animated, approaching more
nearly to gayety than enthusiasm ; and tbe facts which he had to state, or the
elementary positions he had to lay down, were given in the simple, clear, and
unembarrassed diction in which a well-bred man would tell a story or deliver
an opinion in society. All objections that occurred, were stated in a forcible,
clear, and lively manner ; and tbe answers, which were often thrown into a
kind of dramatic form, were delivered with all tbe simplicity, vivacity, and easy
phraseology of good conversation. His illustrations were always familiar, and
often amusing ; and while nothing could be more forcible or conclusive than
tbe reasonings which he employed, the tone and style in which they were de-
livered gave them an easy and attractive air, and imparted, to a profound and
learned discussion, tbe charms of an animated and interesting conversation.
No individual, indeed, ever did more to break down tbe old and unfortunate
distinction between the wisdom of the academician and the wisdom of tbe man
of the world : and as most of the topics which fell under his discussion were of
a kind that did not lose their interest beyond the walls of a college, so tbe
views which he took of them, and the language in which they were conveyed,
were completely adapted to tbe actual condition of society ; and prepared those
to whom they had been made familiar, to maintain and express them with pre-

' The article we are now quoting was probably the composition of Mr Jetfre}-, who, if we
are not mistitken, was a pupil of Mr INIiUur.

JOHN MILLAR. 35

cision, witUout running the least risk of an imputation of pedantry or ig-
norance.

" It will be admitted to have required no ordinary share of intrepidity and
confidence in the substantial merits of his instructions, to have enabled a profes-
sor thus to lay aside the shield of academical stateliness, and not only expose
his thoughts in the undress of extemporaneous expression, but to exhibit them,
without any of the advantages of imposing or authoritative pretences, on the fair
level of equal discussion, and with no other recommendations but those of
superior expediency or reason." He carried his system, however, even to a
more hazardous extreme : at the conclusion of every lecture, he invited his
students to gather around him, and in easy conversation to discuss the principles
he had been expounding. It has been justly remarked, that no teacher who
did not possess an unusually minute and extensive knowledge of his subject
could have ventured upon such a practice ; which, however, in his case, was at-
tended with the best etiects upon his pupils. Such, altogether, was the success
which attended his prelections, that the class was speedily increased to about
forty, and the professor in the Edinburgh college, after seeing his students pro-
portionally diminished, was obliged to abandon the practice of lecturing in
Latin, in which he had persevered till Mr fliillar's reputation as an effective
lecturer was completely established.

During the whole time of his connexion with Glasgow college, Mr Millar
was a zealous and active member of the Literary Society, a club chiefly formed
of the professors, and whose practice it was to meet weekly, and, after hearing
an essay read by some member in rotation, to discuss the views which it ad-
vanced. The tenor of Mr Millar's life was little marked by events. He spent
his time between the college and a small farm called Whitemoss (near Kilbride,)
Avhich he took great pleasure in improving. Excepting, indeed, two visits to
the metropolis in 1774 and 1792, and the publication of his two books, there
is hardly any incident to which we find our notice particularly called.

Amongst his lectures on jurisprudence, those which referred to the subject of
government were remarked to possess an unusual interest. In these he de-
livered a theoretical history of the progress of society, thx'ough the various stages
of savage, pastoral, agricultural, and commercial life ; with a view of the insti-
tutions and changes which would naturally be suggested in their political and
domestic habits by their successive transformation ; illustrating his remarks by
an historical review of all the ancient governments, and more particularly by that
of Great Britain. The interest which he found they excited, induced him, in
1771, to publish a short treatise on the subject, which was favourably received.
Even to cursory readers, it was calculated to afford amusement, by the various
views of human nature which it exhibited, and by the singularity of many of
the traits of manners, as well as of national characters and institutions, which it
traced to their sources. Some years afterwards, Mr Millar was induced, by the
prevalence of what he conceived to be erroneous ideas respecting the origin of
the English government, to expand his views on that subject, with a view to
publication. After a careful preparation, he published, in 1787, his Histori-
cal View of the English Government, from the Settlement of the Saxons in
Britain, to the Accession of the House of Stewart. By subsequent labour Mr
Millar intended to bring down the history to his own time, but he only
completed it to the Revolution, and a new and posthumous edition in 1803, in
four volumes 8vo, comprised that period. As a writer, Mr Millar retained lit-
tle of that vivacity and fertility of illustration, which gave such a charm to his
extemporaneous lectures. The style of his compositions is nevertheless forcible
and distinct. His Historical View, containing much inquiry into the remote

36 JOSEPH MITCHELL.

periods of our government, nnd many distinctions which it requires some effort
of attention fully to understand, could not be of a very popular nature ; but it
has been justly appreciated by those who were fitted by their liabils and
previous studies to take an interest in such researclies ; and, considering the
nature of the subjects of which it treats, its having gone through three editions
is no sliglit proof of public approbation.

•' The distinguishing feature of Mr IMillar's intellect." says the Edinburgh
Review, " was, the great clearness and accuracy of his apprehension, and the
singular sagacity with which he seized upon the true statement of a fjiiestii.n,
and disenl<angled the point in dispute from the mass of sophisticxited amument
in which it was frequently involved. His great delight was to simplify an intri-
Cxite question, and to reduce a perplexed and elaborate system of argument to a
few ph:in problems of common sense. * * To form a sound judgment
upon all points of substantial importance, appeared to him to require little
more than the free and independent use of that vulgar sense on \>hich
no man is entitled to value himself; and he was apt to look with suf-
ficient contempt upon the elaborate and ingenious errors into which philo-
sophei-s are so apt to reason themselves. To bring do\vn the dignity of
such false science, and to expose the emptiness of ostentatious and pedantic
reasoners, was therefore one of his favourite employments. He had, indeed,
no prejudices of veneration in his nature ; his respect was reserved for those
who had either made discoveries of practical ability, or combined into a system
the scattered truths of speculation." For the remainder of a very elaborate esti-
mate of the genius of professor Millar, we nmst refer those who take an unusual
interest in the subject, to the Review ilself.^ W'e may only mention, what
every one will have anticipated from the preceding extract, that 31r Millar was
of whig politics, bordering on republicanism, and that his sentiments had con-
siderable influence with his pupils, some of whom, as lord Jeffrey, lord chief
commissioner Adam, of the Jury court, and the earl of Lauderdale, were dis-
tiugaislied on that side of the great political question which so long divided
public opinion in this country.

In hjs private character, Mr Millar was extremely amiable. His conversation
was cheerful, unafiected, and unconmionly agreeable. His countenance was
very animated and expressive ; his stature about the middle size ; his person
strong, active, and athletic, rather than elegant. Though devoted chiefly to
metaphysical inquiries, he was extensively acquainted with the natural sciences,
with history, with the belles leltres, and, indeed, almost all branches of human
learning. He retained good health till the end of the year 1790, when he
was seized with a very dangerous inflammatory complaint, from which he re-
covered to a cei-tain extent ; but a year and a half after, having exposed him-
self to cold, he was seized with pleurisy, by which he was carried off. May 30,
1801. Professor Millar left four sons and six daughters. A full memoir of his
life was written by his nephew, Mr John Craig, and prefixed to a fourth
edition of his Origin of the Distinction of Ranks, published in 1808.

MITCHELL, Joseph, a dramatist of the eighteenth century, was bom about
the year 1684. His father, who is described as a stone-cutter, appears to have
been in decent circumstances, as he gave his son a liberal education, includ-
ing a course at one of the Scottish universities, but which of them is not now
known. On completing his education, Mitchell repaired to London, with the
view of pushing his fortune in that metropolis, and was lucky enough to get into
favour with the earl of Stair and Sir Robert Walpole. How he effected this,
whether by the force of his talents, or by what other means, is not known; but

* Vol. iii. p. 138.

DR. MONRO, PRIMUS. 37

his hold on the patronage of the latter especially, seems to have been singularly
strong, as Sir Robert almost entirely supported him during his after life.
The zeal and gratitude of Mitchell, in return for this benevolence, and which
took the shape of literary efl'usion, sometimes in behalf of, and sometimes compli-
mentary to his patron, became so marked, as to procure for him the title of Sir
Robert WaJpole's poet. The reckless and extravagant habits of 3Iitchell, how-
ever, kept him constantly in a state of great pecuniary distress, notwithstanding
the liberal patronage of Walpole ; and so inveterate were these habits, that a
legacy of several thousand pounds, which was left him by an uncle of his wife,
scarcely afforded him even a temporary relief.

Although Mitchell's abilities were of but a very moderate order, he yet ranked
amongst iiis friends many of the most eminent men of iiis times, particularly
Rlr Aaron Hill. To this gentleman lie on one occasion communicated his dis-
tressed condition, and sought assistance from him. Mr Hill was unable to af-
ford him any pecuniary relief, but he generously presented him with both
the profits and reputation of a little dramatic piece, entitled Fatal Extrava-
gance ; a piece which he seems ingeniously to have adapted at once to relieve
and reprove tiie object of his benevolence. This play was acted and printed in
Mr Mitchell's name, and the profits accruing from it were considerable ; but
though he accepted the latter, he was candid enough to disclaim the merit of
being its author, and took every opportunity of undeceiving the world on this
point, and of acknowledging his obligations to Mr Hill.

Of Mitchell, there is little more known. His talents were not of a suf-
ficiently high order to attract much notice while he lived, or to prompt any
inquiry after his death. He died on tiie 6th July, 1738. The following dra-
matic productions appear under his name, but the last only is really his, and it
is not without considerable merit : — Fatal Extravagance, a tragedy, 8vo, 1720 ;
Fatal Extravagance, a tragedy, enlarged, 12mo, 1726 ; and The Highland Fair,
an opera, Svo, 1731. In 1729, he published, besides, two octavo volumes of
miscellaneous poetry.

MONRO, Alexander, M. D. , usually called Secundm, to distinguish him from
his father, an eminent medical writer and teaciier. Before entering upon the
memoirs of this individual, it is necessary to give some account of his father,
Dr Monro, Primus, the founder of the medical school of Edinburgh, who, hav-
ing been born in London, is not precisely entitled to appear in this work under
a separate head.

Dr Monro, Primus, was born in London, September 19, 1697. He was the
son of Mr John Monro, a surgeon in the army of king William, descended from
the family of Monro of Blilton, in the north of Scotland. His mother was of
the family of Forbes of Culloden, Having retired from the army, Mr Monro
settled in Edinburgh about the beginning of the eighteenth century, and enter-
ing the college of surgeons, soon acquired considerable practice. His favourite
employment, however, was to superintend the education of his son, whose talents
he perceived at an early period. Though medical and anatomical chairs at that
time existed in the university of Edinburgh, they were quite inefHcient, and
hence it was found necessary to send young Monro elsewhere for the completion
of his education. He went successively to London, Paris, and Leyden, and be-
came the attentive pupil of the great men who then taught at those universities,
among whom were Cheselden, Hawksby, Chowel, Bouquet, Thibaut, and Boer-
haave. Not content with listening to the instructions of these teachers, he
studied assiduously by himself, especially in the department of anatomy. While
attending Cheselden in London, he made numerous anatomical preparations,
which he sent home; and, while here, even laid the foundation of his important

38 DR. MONRO, PRIMU3.

worli oil the bones, a sketcli of wliioli he read before a society of yotmg surgeons
ami pbysicians, of wliicli lie had been elected a member. Jiefore iiis return, liis
fatlier had presented several of iiis preparations to the college, so that his skill
was already well known. The titular professor of anatomy to the college of
surgeons had even formed the resolution of relinquishing liis appointment in
favour of this promising young anatomist, who, he thought, would be able to
convert it into an useful profession. Accordingly, on his arrival in lidinburgh,
in 171!), when only twenty-two years of age, he was nominated to this dignity.
Early in the ensuing year, he commenced the Hist regular course of anatoiuic<'il
and chirurgical lectures and demonstrations, which were ever delivered in that
city. From his abilities and zeal, and the preparations with which he illustrated
his discourses, success could hardly fail to attend his labours. It could not, how-
ever, bo expected that an anatomical and surgical course alone, however valu-
able, or a single professor, liowever great his abilities, could be sufficient to
raise the fame of a medical school, which had to combat many rival seminaries
of deserved eminence. It became, therefore, a matter of the utmost conse<juence
to obtain such associates as could second and support his labours. His father,
to whose zeal for the establishment of a medical school in Edinburgh, much of
his son's success is to be attributed, prevailed on Dr Alston, then king's botanist
for Scotland, to begin a course of lectures on the materia medica. He also took
an expedient for impi-oving his sou's mode of lecturing. Without the young
teacher's knowledge, he invited the president and fellows of the college of phy-
sicians, and the whole company of surgeons, to honour the first day's lecture
with their presence. This unexpected company threw the doctor into such
confusion, that he forgot the words of the discourse, which he had written and
committed to memory. Having left his papers at home, he was at a loss for a
little time what to do ; but, with much presence of mind, he immediately began
to show some of the anatomical preparations, in order to gain time for recollec-
tion ; and very soon resolved not to attempt to repeat the discourse which he
had prepared, but to express himself in such language as should occur to him
from the subject, which he was confident that he understood. The experiment
succeeded ; he delivered himself well, and gained great applause as a good and
ready speaker. Tlius discovering his own strength, he resolved henceforth
never to recite any written discourse in teaching, and acquired a free and ele-
gant style of delivering lectures.

The want of lectures on other branches, which still remained as an obstacle
to the creation of a medical school, was soon altogether overcome by the zeal of
the elder Blonro, through whose influence his son and Dr Alston were put upon
the college establishment, together with co-operative lectureships, undertaken by
Drs Sinclair, Kutherford, and Plumer. Such was the origin of the medical
school of Edinburgh, which for a century has been one of the most eminent
and most frequented in Europe. The system was completed in the course of a
few years, by the establishment of the Royal Infirmary at Edinburgh, which uas
chiefly urged forward by Ur Monro, with a view to the advantage of his pupils,
and by George Drummond, the lord provost of the city. In this institution, Dr
Monro commenced clinical lectures on the surgical, and Rutherford a similar
course on the medical cases. The former, in his various capacities of physician,
lecturer, and manager, took an active part in the whole business of the Infir-
mary. He personally attended the opening of every body ; and he not only
dictated to the students an accurate report of the dissection, but, with nice dis-
crimination, contrasted the diseased and sound state of every organ. Thus, in
his own person, he afforded to the students a conspicuous example of the ad-
vantages of early anatomical pursuits, as the happiest foundation for a medical

DR. MONRO, PRIMUS. 39

superstructure. His being at once engaged in two departments, the anatomical
theatre and the clinical chair, furnished him with opportunities for experiment
both on the dead and living body, and placed Jiim in the most favourable situa-
tion for the improvement of medicine ; and from these opportunities he derived
every possible advantage which they could afford.

None of the professors connected with medicine in the Edinburgh university,
contributed so much to the formation of the school, as Dr Monro, who was inde-
fatigable in the labours of his office, and in the cultivation of liis art, and soon
made iiimself known to the professional world by a variety of ingenious and
valuable publications. During a period of nearly forty years, he continued,
without any interruption, to deliver a course of lectures, extending from the end
of October to the beginning of May ; and so great was the reputation whicii he
acquired, that students flocked to him from the most distant parts of the king-
dom. His first and principal publication was his Osteology, or Treatise on the
Anatomy of the Bones, which appeared in 1726', when he was as yet under
thirty years of age. This ti'eatise, though intended originally for the use of his
pupils, speedily became popular among the faculty in general, and was trans-
lated into most of the languages of Europe. The French edition, in folio,
published by M. Sue, demonstrator of sculpture to the Royal Academy of Paris,
was adorned with masterly engravings. In the later editions, Dr Monro added
a concise Neurology, or description of the nerves, and a very accurate account
of the lacteal system and thoracic duct.

In every society at Edinburgh, for the improvement of arts, or of letters, Dr
Monro \\as one of the most distinguished ornaments. He Avas a member of the
Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons ; of the Medical Society ; of the Philoso-
phical Society ; of the Select Society for questions in morality and politics ;
and of tlie Society for promoting arts, sciences, and manufactures in Scotland.
He was also a member of several foreign societies, to which he had been recom-
mended by his great reputation. It was to his zeal and activity that tlie world
was chiefly indebted for the six volumes of Medical Essays and Observations, by
a society at Edinburgh, the first of which appeared in 1732. Dr IMonro acted
as editor of this work, and contributed to it many valuable papers on anatomi-
cal, physiological, and practical subjects ; the most elaborate of which was an
Essay on the Nutrition of the Foetus, in three dissertations. On this society be-
ing afterwards revived under a different title, Dr Monro again took an active
part in its proceedings as one of the vice-presidents, and was a liberal contribu-
tor to its publications, of which tiiree volumes appeared, under the title of Es-
says, Physical and Literary. His last publication was an Account of the Suc-
cess of Inoculation in Scotland, written originally as an answer to some inquiries
addressed to him from the committee of the faculty of physicians at Paris, ap-
pointed to investigate the merits of tiie practice. It was afterwards published
at the request of several of his friends, and contributed to extend the practice
in Scotland. Besides the works which he published, he left several manuscripts,
written at difi^erent times, of whicli the following are the principal : A History
of Anatomical Writers, — an Encheiresis Anatoniica, — Heads of many of his
Lectures, — a Treatise on Wounds and Tumours, — a Treatise on Comparative
Anatomy, — and an oration De Cuticula. The last two were printed in an edi-
tion of his whole works, in one volume, 4to, published by his son, Dr Alexander
Monro, 17 SI.

The advance of age and infirmity, induced Dr Monro to resign his chair, in
1759, in favour of his son ; but he continued almost to the close of his life to
perform his duties in the Koyal Infirmary. Several of his latter years were
imbittered by a severe disease, a fungous ulcer in the bladder and rectum ;

40 DR. MONRO, SECUNDUS.

btit ho bore liis distresses with great patieiue ami resignation, and at last died
in perfettt calmness, July 10, 17(37, in the seventietli year of iiis age.

Ur 3Ionr(> had in early life married iMiss Isabella .Macdonahl, daughter of
Sir Donald 3Iacdonahl of Sleat, by whom he had eight eliihlren, four of whom,
three sons ami a daughter, reaehetl maturity. Two of his sons became distin>
guished |ihysicians— namely, l)r Donald .Monro, who attained an eminent prao
tice in London, and became tiie author of several valuable treatises, — an i'^ssay
on Drojisy, 17li5 — on the Diseases of 31ilitary Hospitals, 17(J1- — on 31ineral
Waters, 1771 — on preserving the Health of Soldiers, 6>:c., — and died in 1S02;
and Dr Alexander 31onro secundus, of whose life we shall proceed to give an
extended notice.

Dr 3Ionro secundus, was the youngest son of Dr Alexander IMonro primus,
whose life has just been connnemorated, and was born at Julinburgh, on the
20th of 31arch, 1733. He learned the first rudiments of classical education,
under the tuition of Mr iMundell, then an eminent teacher of languages, at
Edinburgh. At the university of his native city, Dr Monro went through the
ordinary course of philosophy, preparatory to his medical studies. During that
coui-se, he was a pupil of the celebrated IMaclauriii, for Mathematics, — of Sir
John Pringle, fur ethics — and of Dr Matthew Stewart, for experimental philo-
sophy. About the 1 8th year of his age, he entered on his medical studies un-
der his illustrious father, who, from his lectures and writings, had, by that time,
justly obtained very great celebrity. Young 3Ionro soon became a very useful
assistant to his father in the dissecting-room, and was highly respected for his
early acquirements, among the companions of his studies ; several of whom, Dr
Hugh Smith of London, Dr 3Iatthew Dobson of Liverpoid, Dr W illiam Farr of
Plymouth, and some others, were afterwards justly celebrated in the annals of
medicine, by their writings.

Dr 3Ionro, after completing the academical course of medical study at Edin-
burgh, under Drs liutherford, I'lumer, Sinclair, Alston, and other eminent men,
obtained the degree of Doctor of iMedicine, on the I7th ofOctober, 1755. On that
occasion, he published and defended an inaugural dissertation, De Testibus et Se-
mine in variis Animalibus. That dissertation, which manifests his accurate
knowledge of minute anatomy, was illustrated by five capital engravings, each plate
containing several different figures; and it laid the foundation of the important
discoveries which he afterwards made with regard to the lymphatic system. The
public testimony which Dr IMonro thus gave of his anatomical knowledge, and
the reputation which he had acquired both as a demonstrator and lecturer, when
occasionally assisting his father, naturally attracted the attention of the patrons
of the university of Edinburgh ; and to secure to the seminary under their care,
a young man of such distinguished abilities, he was, on the 12th of July, 1755,
when he had but just entered on the twenty-third year of his age, admitted
into the university as professor of anatomy and surgery, in conjunction with his
father ; but that father, still in the vigour of life, and fully able to execute every
part of the duties of his office, did not require the immediate assistance of his
son. Accordingly, young IMonro, after finishing his academical studies at home,
resolved to prosecute them abroad. With this intention, he visited both London
and Paris, where he had an opportunity of being a pupil of the most eminent
professors in these cities. But his foreign studies were principally prosecuted at
the university of Berlin. There he had every opportunity of improving himself
under the celebrated professor Meckell, who \vas at that time justly esteemed
one of the first anatomical teachers in Europe. During his residence in Berlin,
he was not only a pupil at the prelections of IMeckell, but lived in his house, and
thus enjoyed the benefit of his instructions both in public and private. That

DR. MONRO, SECUNDUS. 41

from these sources, his natural and acquired abilities were much improved, may
readily be supposed ; and he himself was so fully sensible of what he owed to so
eminent a preceptor as lAleckell, that during the long period for which he taught
anatomy at Edinburgh, he allowed not a single year to pass without repeatedly
expressing his gratitude, for the instruction he had received under the roof of
tills justly celebrated professor.

From Berlin, Dr Monro returned to Edinburgh in summer 1758. Immedi-
ately upon his return, he was admitted a licentiate of the Koyal College of Phy-
sicians, and entered upon actual practice. As soon as the regulations of the
college would permit, he was raised to the rank of Fellowship, and took his seat
as a member of that respectable body on the 1st of 3Iay, 175!). After that date,
for more tlian half a century, he continued to exert himself with unwearied ac-
tivity, not only as a professor and practitioner, but as an improver of the heal-
ing art, and of our knowledge of the philosophy and structure of the animal
frame. This will abundantly appear from a short review of the different publi-
cations with which he has enriclied the treasury of medical philosophy, convey-
ing important instruction both to his contemporaries, and to the latest posterity.

Very soon after he settled in Edinburgh, he not only became a colleague of
his father in the college, but he succeeded him also as secretary to the Philoso-
phical Society of Edinburgh. In the volumes published by the society, Dr
Monro first appeared as an author. His first publication was printed in the first
volume of a well known and justly celebrated work, entitled, Essays and Obser-
vations, Physical and Literary, read before a Society in Edinburgh, and pub-
lished by them. This first volume of their memoirs appeared in 1754, and
contains two anatomical essays by Alexander Monro, student of medicine in the
university of Edinburgh ; from both of which he obtained very great credit as an
intelligent and industrious young anatomist. In their second volume, published in
1756, are contained also two articles from his pen ; the dissection of a monster,
and the history of a genuine volvulus of the intestines ; both of which served ma-
terially to improve tiie philosophy of medicine, and to do credit to the author.
His next three publications were more of a controversial nature, than calculated
to extend our knowledge of the structure or philosophy of tlie human body.
From a very early period, as appears from his inaugural dissertation, he had
adopted the idea, that the valvular lymphatics over the whole of the animal
body, were one general system of absoi'bents : and, with the view of promulgat-
ing this doctrine, he published at Berlin, in 1758, a short treatise, De Venis
Lymphaticis Valvulosis. The grand idea, however, which this short treatise
contained, was afterwards claimed by Dr William Hunter of Xondon ; and this
claim dre\v from the pen of Dr Monro two other publications, — Observations,
Anatomical and Physiological, wherein Dr Huntei-'s claim to some Discoveries,
is examined, — and, Answer to the Notes on the Postscript to Observations Ana-
tomical and Physiological. Here, the only difference between these two
eminent men, was, not with regard to the extent or use of the valvular lympha-
tics, but with regard to the merit of being the discoverer of their use. A judg-
ment on that controversy is now of very little importance ; and perhaps neither
of them is justly entitled to the merit of the discovery. For, prior to either,
that the lymphatics were a general system, had been explicitly stated by the il-
lustrious Hofl'man. But that the anatomical labours, both of Monro and Hunter,
independently of any information which the one derived from the other, tended
very much to extend our knowledge of the lymphatic system, will not be denied
by any intelligent reader.

In the year 1771, the Philosophical Society of Edinburgh, which Dr Monro
tended not a little to support, by fulfilling all the duties of an intelligent and

42 DR. MONRO, SECUNDUS.

arlive secreiary, published the tliinl and last vohiiue ol" llieir I-ssays and Obser-
vations, Physical and Literary, 'lliis vcthinie, among many other vahiable es-
says, is enridied by a prodiiclion <it" Dr IMonro, entitled, An Atteiiijit to Ueter-
inine by l-xperiments, how tar some of the most powerfid ]Me«li(;ines, Opium,
Ardent Spirits, and I'^ssential Oils, alleet Animals, by acting on tiiose Ntrves to
wliich lliey are jirimarily applied, and thereby bringing the rest of tlie Nervous
System into sutferance, by wliat is called Sympathy of Nerves ; and liow far these
3Iedicines all'ect Animals after being taken in by their Absorbent \ eins, and
mixed and conveyed ^^ilh llieir Blofid in the course of circulation ; with Pliysio-
logical and Practical Kemarks. This elaborate dissertation, higidy interesting
in the practice of Medicine, atibrded ample proofs of the genius, the judgment,
and the industry of the author.

In 17S3, Dr IMvniro published a large folio volume, entitled. Observations on
the Structure and Functions of the Nervous System. This volume, which was
illustrated by numerous engravings, was soon afterwards translated into (lerman
and into other modern European languages ; and, high as his reputation was
before, it tended both to support and to increase his fame.

The same consequences also resulted from another folio volume which he
published in the year 17S5, entitled, The Structure and Physiology of Pishes,
explained and compared with those of Man and other Animals, illustrated with
Figures. In 1788, he published a third folio volume, entitled, A Descrip-
tion of all the Bursse Mucosae of the Human Body ; their Structure explained,
and compared with that of the Capsular Ligaments of the Joints ; and of those
Sacs which line the cavities of the thorax and abdomen, with Remarks on the
Accidents and Diseases which affect these several Sacs, and on the operations ne-
cessary for their cure.

For these three works, the folio form was necessaiy, on account of the size
of the plates with which they were illustrated, and which had been engraved
at a very great expense. Although all these three folios were presented to the
learned world within the short space of five years, yet they may be considered
as the scientific fruits of the best part of Dr Moni'o's life. For, although a large
portion of his time was necessarily occupied in teaching anatomy to numerous
classes, and in extensive practice as a physician, yet, amidst all his important
avocations, he prosecuted with unwearied assiduity the extension of discovery,
and neglected no opportunity of increasing our knowledge of the philosophy of
the human body. Of his success in these interesting pursuits, the three works
now mentioned, wUl transmit incontrovertible evidence to the latest posterity,

Dr Monro primus, as already noticed, had officiated tor more than thirty
years as secretary to a iMedical Society in Edinburgh, which was formed of the
most eminent physicians of the city at that time. During this period, he
had published in their name, six volumes of Medical Essays, which had ob-
tained the approbation of the most eminent physicians in every country of Eu-
rope, insomuch, that the illustrious Haller had represented it as a book quern
nemo carere potest. But about the year 1750, a proposal was made to
unite the physicians and philosophers of Edinburgh into one Society. This
poposal was strenuously supported by Henry Home, afterwards lord Kanies,
and IMr David Hume. The union was accordingly accomplished ; and in
place of the IMedical, they assumed the name of the Philosophical So-
ciety of Edinburgh. Dr ]Monro prhnus still continued to be one of their
secretaries, and had conjoined with him Mr David Hume, the historian, for
the philosophical department. This society published three volumes of Essays
and Observations, Physical and Literary. The first volume, as has already
been observed, contains some papers written by Alexander IMoni-o secundmt,

DR. MONRO, SECUNDUS. 43

wlieu a student of medicine. But after his return from his studies on the
continent, and after his conjunction Avith his father in the professorship of
anatomy, he was also conjoined with liini as secretary to the Philosophical
Society of Edinburgh; and altliough Mr Hume still retained the name of the
philosophical secretary, yet Dr Monro secundus may justly be considered as the
editor of the two last volumes. With the venerable lord Karnes as their presi-
dent, and Dr Monro secundus as their acting secretary, (for Mr Hume, not
long after his appointment, left Edinburgli, to act in a diplomatic cliaracter in
France,) the Piiilosophical Society of Edinburgh had regular meetings. The
pliysicians and philosophers, mIio were then the greatest ornaments of Edin-
burgh,— lord Kanies, Sir George Clerk, Mr John Clerk, Drs CuUon, Home,
Hope, Black, Young, Monro, and many otliers, — constituted the strength of
the association ; and the Essays and Observations, Physical and Literary,
which they published to the world, will ever hold a distinguisiied place in mark-
ing- the progress of science. The third and last volume publisiied by the
Philosophical Society of Edinburgh in 1771, contains several papers from the
pen of Dr Monro secundus. Besides the interesting experiments on opium,
ardent spirits, and essential oils, of whi<;h mention h.ns already been made, it
contains important observations, communicated by him, on Polypus in the
Pharynx and OEsophagus, and on the use of mercury in convulsive diseases.
Soon after the publication of this third volume, a plan was projected for putting
the Philosophical Society of Edinburgh upon a still more respectable footing
and extensive scale, and of compreiiendiiig not only medical and physical
science, but every species of literary and philological discussions. This exten-
sion was particularly enforced by Dr Robertson, then principal, and Mr Dal-
zell, then professor of Greek, in the university of Edinburgh. The negotiation
terminated in the Philosophical Society as a body, Aiith the addition of many
other eminent scholars, being incorporated by royal charter in the year 1782,
under the title of the Royal Society of Edinburgh.

On the establishment of the Royal Society, Dr Monro, whose time was much
occupied with extensive practice in medicine, declined any longer ofiiciating as
secretary ; but he continued not only to be one of their councillors, but to be
an active and useful fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh; and he en-
riched their transactions with several valuable communications, particularly with
the description of a huninn male monster, with an elaborate series of experi-
nients on animal ele<;tricity or galvanism, which, from the discoveries of Galvani,
professor of anatomy of Bologna, has engaged the attention of almost every
piiilosopher in Europe, and with observations on the Muscles, particularly on
tlie effects of their oblique fibres.

The last publication with which Dr Monro enriched medical science, was a
quarto volume, consisting of three treatises, on the Brain, the Eye, and the
Ear, published at Edinburgh in the year 1797. And although these orgaris
had before been examined with the utmost attention by anatomisfs of the first
eminence, yet, from careful examination, he made no inconsiderable addition
to our knowledge, both of the structure and functions of these important
organs.

Dr Monro's talents extended his fame over all Europe, and he had the
honour of being admitted a member of the most celebrated medical institutions,
particularly of the royal academies of Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Moscow, and
other learned societies. His eminence as an author was not superior to iiis
fame as a teacher of medicine. For a long series of years his class room was
attended by crowded audiences ; and no hearer of real discernment could lis-
ten to him without being both pleased and instructed by his prelections. He

44 GEORGE CUNNINGHAM MONTEATIT.

began to teach medicine immediately upon liis return from tlie continent, at
the beginning of the winter session 175S-59. During that winter, his father,
Dr 3Ionro primus, gave the introdu(!tory lectures, and a very few others. But
by much tiie greater ])art of tiie <;ourse was given by the young professor ; and
for forty succeeding years lie performed tiie arduous duties of liie anatomi(;al
cliair without any assistant. No teaclier could attend to tiic business of his
chair with more assiduity. Indeed, during tiie whole of that period, lie made
it an invariable rule to postpone to his academical duties every otlier business
that could possibly admit of delay.

Wiiile we thus state Dr 3Ioiiro's character as an author and a teacher, iiis
worth as a man and a citizen must not be forgotten. With his brethren of the
profession, and his colleagues in the university, he lived on the most amicable
terms. He seems to have had constantly in his mind the admirable observation
of Seneca : " Beneficiis humana vita consistit ct concordia ; nee terrore, sed
mutuo aniore, in fundus auxiliumque commune constringiliir." No man could en-
joy to a higher degree, or more successfully lead others to enjoy, innocent
mirth at the social board. He was one of the earliest members, and most regular
attendants of, the Harveian Society, — a society which was formed with the in-
tention of encouraging experimental inquiry among the rising generation, and
in promoting convivial mirth among its living members. In every respect Dr
Monro was an honest and an honourable man. He was no flatterer ; but he did
not withhold applause where he thought it was merited. Both the applause
and the censure of Dr Monro upon all occasions, demonstrated tiie candid, the
open, and the honest man. As a citizen, a friend, and a parent, his conduct
was amiable and affectionate in the highest degree ; and as a medical writer
and teacher, he had few equals among his contemporaries. His various pub-
lished works may be recapitulated as follows : Treatise on the Lymphatics,
1770 ; On the Anatomy of Fishes, 1785 ; On the Nerves, 1783 ; On the BursiB
Mucosas, 1788; and three Treatises on the Brain, the Eye, and the Ear,
1797.

Dr Monro's chief amusements lay in the witnessing of dramatic performances,
and in the (Uiltivation of his garden. Not many years after his establishment
in Edinburgh he purchased the beautiful estate of Craiglockhart, on the banks
of the Water of Leith, within a few miles of the city. He planted and beauti-
fied some charmingly romantic hills, which afforded him sucli delightful pros-
pects of wood and water, hill and dale, city and cottage, as have seldom been
equalled ; and here he spent many hours stolen from the labours of his profes-
sion. In 1800, finding iiis health declining, he began to receive the assistance
of his son, Dr Alexander Monro, tertius, who succeeded him as professor of
anatomy ; but he continued to deliver the most important part of the lectures
till 1808 9, when he closed his academical labours, to the regret of liis numerous
students. At tlie same time he gave up his medical practice, but survived till
the 2d of October, 1817, wlien he died in tlio 85th year of his age.

MONTEATH, George Cdnmngham, author of a Manual of the Diseases of the
Human Eye, was born, December 4, 1788, in the manse of Neilston, Kenfrew-
shire, of which parish his father, the Rev. Dr John Monteath, (latterly of Hous-
ton and Killallan,) was then minister. After passing through the medical and
surgiral classes in the university of Glasgow, the subject of this notice attended
the hospitals in London, where he attracted the noti<;e of Sir Astley Cooper,
and other eminent anatomists, and received a diploma from the Royal College
of Surgeons. In 1809, by the recommendation of Dr M. Baillie, he was ajv
pointed surgeon to lord Loiaine's Northumberland regiment of militia, in which
situation he remained four years, honoured ^vith the atfection and esteem of all

GEORGE CUNNINGHAM MONTEATH, 45

his brother officers. He then resigned his commission, and commenced practice
in Glasgow, as a physician and oculist. In 1813, he commenced, with a friend,
a series of lectures on practical anatomy, but was soon obliged, by the i-apid in-
crease of his practice, to relinquish this duty. Being the first practitioner in
Glasgow who devoted particular attention to the diseases of the eye, he soon be-
came celebrated, not only in the city, but over all the west of Scotland, for his
skilful treatment of that clasr. of complaints, and liad many imjjortant and diffi-
cult cases intrusted to liini. In 1821, he published his Manual of the Diseases
of the Human Eye, which became a popular work on the subject. Though
possessed originally of a good constitution, Dr Monteath gradually sank under
the pressure of liis multifarious duties ; and, having been seized with inflammation,
in consequence of a niglit journey, he was cut off, January 25, 1828, in the
fortieth year of his age.

Dr Monteath was characterized, by one who knew him well, and who under-
took the task of conimeniorating his death in the public prints, as " at once an
accomplished physician and an eminent surgeon." His mind, distinguished as it
was by clearness of method, minuteness of observation, and soundness of judg-
ment, was particularly fitted for the investigations of tlie former profession.
His power of distinguishing, (perhaps the power upon which su(;cess in the prac-
tice of medicine depends more tlian any other,) added to his thorough know-
ledge of what others had discovered, and his readiness in applying what either
his erudition or his experience supplied, made some regret that he did not de-
vote himself to tiie business of a physician alone.

" As a surgeon, however, his success was perhaps still more remarkable. It
was not tlie success of cliance, — it was the result of patient application, at an
early period of life, to that science, without which all attempts at eminence in
this department, must necessarily fail, — we mean the science of anatomy. It
was the result of close and emulous attention to the practice of the ablest sur-
geons in tlie metropolis. It was attributable in no small degree to an accuracy
in planning iiis operations, and a collectedness of mind at the time of operation,
such that no accident could occur which had not been preconsidered, or wliicli
could in tlie slightest measure discompose him. Every sui-gical operation which
he undertook, had evidently been the subject of much previous thought, — every
ordinary circumstance had been cai'efully investigated, — many circumstances
whicli a common mind would probably have overlooked, had been weighed
with deep attention, — and neither the honour of his art, nor the safety of Ids
patient, was at any time left to what might occur at the moment,

" Dr Monteath was particularly distinguished as an oculist, and was unques-
tionably the first individual in this city who materially improved the treatment
of the diseases of the eye. It was here tliat the qualities of mind, to which we
have already alluded, were of the greatest service to him, — namely, his power
of minute observation, and tlie art, in which he so highly excelled, of distin-
guishing cases, which, though tiiey might seem alike when viewed superficially,
were, in fact, very different, and might require even opposite means of cure.

" Dr Monteath's attention to his patients was particularly deserving of approba-
tion,— it extended to the poorest as well as the ri<;liest, and allowed no cir-
cumstance to escape notice, which could tend, even in a remote degree, to
alleviate suffering, or secure recovery. Those wlio had no other means of judg-
ing of his superiority as a medical practitioner, must have been struck with this
trait of his character, and acknowledged it as an excellence of no mean value.
His manner was soothing, and his politeness fascinating. None who had ever
employed him as a medical attendant, could see him approach, without feeling
tlieir distress already in part subdued, their feai"s allayed, and their hopes in-

46 ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY.

vigoratetl, by tlio prcbeiice <»f ctiie, in whose aniplo sltill and unwearied pains
llioy could so iiiijdicitly coulide."

^lON i"(il031IOUY, Alkxandku, an early poet of ronsi<leralj!c fame, appears
to have been a younger son of Montgomery of llazelliead Casttle, in Ayrsliire,
a branch of the noble family of I'.glinloune. He ilourished in the reign of .lames
VI., but probably wrote verses at an antecedent period, as some of his composi-
tions are transcribed in the Bannatyne 3Ianus(;ript, which was written in 15(j8.
The date of his birth — further than that it was upon an luister-day — the place
and nature of liis education, and the pursuits of his early years, are all involved
in obscurity. He is said to have been brought up in the county of Argjle ; a
fact which seems to gather some confirmation from a passage in Dempster —
*' eques Montanus vulgo vocatus," — as if he liad accjiiired s(mie connuon nick-
name, such as " the Highland trooper ;" for Montgomery never was knigliled.
There is some reason to suppose that he was at one time a domestic or com-
mander in the guard of the regent Morton. His most familiar title, " Captain
Alexander Blontgomery," renders it probable that the latter was the nature of
his offii;e, for the word Captain seems to have been first used in Scotland, in
reference to officers in the immediate service of the sovereign. IMelville, in his
Diary, mentions that when Patrick Adamson was promoted to the archbishopric
of St Andrews, (an event which occurred in the year 1577,) there was then at
court " captain IMontgomery, a good honest man, and the regent's domestic,"
who, recollecting a phrase which the new primate had been accustomed to use
in his sermons, remarked to some of his companions, " for as often as it was
reported by Mr Patrick, tJie propliet would mean this, I never understood
what the propliet meant till now."

Montgomery appears afterwards to have been in the service of king James,
who, in liis Rewles and Cautelis, published in 1582, quotes some of the
poems of the subject of this memoir. His services were acknowledged by
a pension of five hundred nierks, chargeable upon certain rents of the arch-
bishopric of Glasgow, which was confirmed in 1583, and again in 1589. Vari-
ous places throughout Scotland are pointed out by tradition, as liaving been the
residence of iMontgomery, particularly the ruins of Compston Castle, near
Kirkcudbright, now involved in the pleasure grounds connected with the modern
mansiou-house of Dundrennan. In 1586, the poet commenced a tour of the
Continent. After his return, he was involved in a tedious and vexatious lawsuit
respecting his pension, wliich drew from him some severe remarks upon the
lawyers and judges of that time. Of his principal poem, "The Cherry and the
Slae," the first known edition was printed by Robert Waldegrave, in 1607. The
poet appears, from a passage in a memoir of Mure of Rowallan,' his nephew, to
have died between this date and 1611.

" The poems of Montgomery," says Dr Irving, " display an elegant and
lively fancy ; and his versification is often distinguished by a degree of har-
mony, which most of his contemporaries were incapable of attaining. He has
attempted a great variety of subjects, as well as of measures, but his chief beau-
ties seem to be of the lyric kind. It is highly probable that his taste was
formed by the study of the Italian poets : he has left many sonnets constructed
on the regular model, and his quaint conceits seem not unfrequently to betray
their Italian origin. The subject of love, which has afforded so fertile a theme
to the poets of every age and nation, has furnished Montgomery with the most

common and favourite topic for the exercise of his talents His

most serious effort is, ' The Cherry and the Slae,' a poem of considerable length,

and certainly of very considerable ingenuity The images are

1 Lyle's Ballads, London, 1827.

JAMES MOOR, LL.D. 47

scattered even with profusion ; and almost every stanza displays the vivacity of
the author's mind. In this, as well as in liis other productions, Montgomery's
illustrations are very frequently and very happily drawn from the most familiar
objects ; and he often applies proverbial expressions, in a very pointed and

pleasing manner The genuine explanation of the allegory may

perhaps be, that virtue, though of very hard attainment, ought to be preferred
to vice : virtue is represented by the cherry, a refreshing fruit, growing upon a
tall tree, and that tree rising from a formidable precipice ; vice is represented
by the sloe, a fruit which may easily be plucked, but is bitter to the taste."

" The Cherry and the Slae" has longer retained popularity than any other
poetical composition of the reign of James VI. It continued to be occasionally
printed, for popular use, till a recent period ; and in 1822, this, as well as the
other poetical works of Montgomery, appeared in a very handsome edition,
under the superintendence of Mr David Laing. *Dr Irving contributed to the
publication a biographical preface, from which we have chieily derived the pre-
sent memoir.

MOOK, Jamks, LL.D., an eminent Greek scholar, was the son of IMr Ro-
bert Muir, schoolmaster in Glasgow; a person of considerable learning, and of
such unwearied industry, that, being too poor to purchase Newton's Principia,
he copied the whole book with his own hand. The subject of this notice en-
tered the university of Glasgow in 1725, and distinguished himself by great
industry and capacity as a student. After finishing his academical course, and
taking the degree of M. A., with considerable applause, he taugiit a school for
some time in Glasgow. This situation he seems to have abandoned, in order to
become tutor to the earls of Selkirk and Errol, in which capacity he travelled
abroad. He was afterwards in the family of the earl of Kilmarnock ; and on
the burning of Dean Castle, which took place in his absence, lost a considerable
stock of books, which he had employed himself in collecting for his own use.
Without the knowledge of the earl, Moor instructed lord Boyd in Greek, so
that the young nobleman was able to surprise his father one day by reading, at
his tutor's desire, one of the odes of Anacreon. In 1742, he was appointed
librarian to the university of Glasgow ; and in July, 1746, became professor of
Greek in the same nstitution, the earl of Selkirk advancing him £Q00, in
order to purchase the resignation of the preceding incumbent. On the con-
demnation of his patron, the earl of Kilmarnock, for his concern in the insur-
rection of 1745, Moor, who was of opposite politics, made a journey to London,
for the purpose of making interest with the ministers for his lordship's pardon ;
an enterprise honourable to his feelings, however unsuccessful.

Moor was a useful professor, and, besides his academical duties, conferred
some benefits on the literary world by his publications. In company with pro-
fessor Muirhead, he superintended, at the request of the university, a very
splendid edition of Homer, published by the Foulises of Glasgow. He also
edited their Herodotus, and was of service in several of their other publications.
Some essays, read by him before the Literary Society [of Glasgow], of which he
was a constituent member, were collected and published, in 8vo, in 1759. In
17G6, he published " A Vindication of Virgil from the charge of Puerility, im-
puted to him by Or Pearce," 12mo. His principal work, however, was his
Grammar of tlie Greek Language, which has ever since been very extensively
used in schools. He collected a large and valuable library, and selected a
cabinet of medals, which the university afterwards purchased. In 17G1, he was
appointed vice-rector of the college, by the earl of Errol, the lord rector, who,
under the designation of lord Boyd, had formerly been his pupil. In 1763,
he applied to the university for the degree of Doctor of Laws, which «as granted

4S DR. JOHN WOOUE.

to liiiii, in consideration of his talents <ind services. Dr Moor was addicted to the
cultivnlion of ligiit literature, and used to amuse iiiniself and liis friends, by
writing verses in tlie lludibrastic vein. He resigned liis ciiair in 1774, on ac-
count of bad health, and died on the 17th of September, 1779.

WOOUE, (Ur) John, a njiscullaiiuous writor of tlic last cuntury, was born in
Stirling, in the year 1730. His father, the reverend Charles Moure, was a
clergyman of the Scottish episcopal church, Bcttk-d at Stirling. His mother waa
the tlaui^hter of John Anderson, Esq., Dowhill, Glas;,'(>w.

On the death of his father, which took place in 17.35, his nnitiier removed
with her family to (ilasgow, where a small property had been left her by her
father. Having here gone through the usual course of grannnar-school educa-
tion, young 31oore was matriculated at the university, and attended the
various classes necessary to qualify him for the profession of medicine, for which
he was early intended. At a more advanced stage of his studies he was placed
under the <are of Dr Gordon, an eminent practitioner of that day; and while
under his tuition attended the lectures of Dr Hamilton, then anatomical demon-
strator, and those of the celebrated Dr Cullen, at that time professor of medicine
at (jilasgow.

In 1747, 3Tr Moore, desirous of adding to the professional knowledg'e which
he had already acquired, by visiting a new and wider field of experience, pro-
ceeded to the continent, under the protection of the duke of Argyle, to whom
he had procured an introduction. The duke, then a commoner, was lieutenant-
colonel of a regiment of foot, and was about to embark for Flanders to serve
under the duke of Cumberland, who was there in command of tiie allied
army. On arriving at 3Iaestricht, he attended the military hospitals there, in
the capacity of mate, and found abundance of practice, as these receptacles ^vere
filled with soldiers, wounded at the battle of Laffeldt, which had just been
fought. In consequence of a recommendation which he soon after obtained
from 3Ir Middleton, director-general of the military hospitals, to the earl of
Albemarle, Mr 3Ioore removed to Flushing, where he again attended the mili-
tary hospitals. From this duty, however, he was almost immediately called to
the assistance of the surgeon of the Coldstream foot guards, of which regiment
his new patron, the earl of Albemarle, was colonel. With this corps, Mr
Moore, after passing the autumn of 1747 in Flushing, removed to Breda,
where he spent the winter in garrison. In the summer of the following year,
a peace having been in the mean time concluded, he returned to England with
general liraddock.

Although thus fairly on the world, and in possession of very considerable ex-
perience in his profession, IMr Moore was yet only in the seventeenth year of
his age. After remaining some time in London, during which he attended
the anatomical lectures of his celebrated countryman, Dr Hunter, he went to
Paris, to acquire what knowledge might be afforded by an attendance on the
hospital and medical lectures of that city, then reckoned the best scliool in
Europe. Fortunately for Mr 3Ioore, his early patron, the earl of Albemarle,
was at this time residing in Paris, as ambassador from the court of Great
Britain. Mr Moore lost no time in waiting upon his excellency, who, having
always entertained the highest opinion of his merits, innnediately appointed
him surgeon to his household. He had thus an opportunity afforded him of
enjoying the first society in Paris, being at all times a welcome guest at the
table of the ambassador.

After residing nearly two years in the French capital, Mr Moore was
invited by his first master, Dr Gordon, to return to Glasgow, and to enter into
partnership with him in his business. With this invitation he thought it ad-

DR. JOHN MOORE. 49

visable to comply, and soon after left Paris. He returned, however, by the way
of London, where he remained a few montlis for the purpose of attending
another course of Dr Hunter's lectures, together with those of Dr Smeliie on
midwifery. From London he proceeded to Glasgow, when the proposed con-
nexion with Dr Gordon immediately took place. This connexion continued for
two years. At the end of that period, his partner having received a diploma,
confined himself solely to the practice of physic, while Mr 31oore continued the
business of a surgeon, assuming now as his partner, Mr Hamilton, professor of
anatomy, instead of Dr Gordon, who had necessarily, from tlie change in his
practice, withdrawn from the concern.

In 1769, a circumstance occurred which totally altered Dr Moore's prospects
in life, and opened up others more congenial, there is every reason to believe,
than those to which his profession confined him. In the year just named, he
was called upon to attend James George, duke of Hamilton, who, then but in
the fourteenth year of his age, was affected with a consumptive disorder, of
which, after a lingering illness, he died. Dr Moore's assiduity in this case, al-
though unavailing as to the issue, led to a close connexion with the noble
family of his late patient. In the following year, having previously obtained
a diploma as doctor of medicine from the university of Glasgow, lie was en-
gaged by the duchess of Argyle to attend her sou, the duke of Hamilton, as
a companion during Lis travels. The duke, who was at this time about
fourteen or fifteen years of age, was, like his brother, also of a sickly con-
stitution, and in Dr Moore was found exactly such a person as was fittest to at-
tend him ; one who combined a knowledge of medicine with some experience
of continental travel, and an enlightened minJ. The young duke and his com-
panion remained abroad for five years, during whi(;h they visited France, Italv,
Switzerland, and Germany.

On his return from the continent, which was in the year 1778, Dr Moore
removed with his family from Glasgow to London, and in the year following,
1779, published his celebrated work, entitled, "A View of Society and Man-
ners in France, Switzerland, and Germany." This work was so \\ell received,
that it attained a seventh edition in less than ten years, besides the Irish
editions, and French, German, and Italian translations. Two years afterwards,
he published a continuation of the same work, entitled, *' A View of Society
and Manners in Italy." During this period, however, his medical practice was
by no means extensive ; a circumstance Avhich has been attributed, not to any
disinclination on the part of the public, with whom he was so popular as an au-
thor, to patronize him, but to his own reluctance to engage in the drudgery en-
tailed on a general practice. The rambling and unfettered life which he had
led upon the continent had, in a great degree, unfitted him for the laborious
routine of professional duty, and his reluctance again to involve himself in it
appears to have adhered to him throughout the whole of his after life, and
greatly marred his prosperity in the Avorld.

In 1785, he published his "Medical Sketches;" a work which sufficiently
showed that his limited practice did not proceed from any deficiency of know-
ledge in his profession. It was received with much favour by the public, al-
though it is said to have given offence to some of the medical gentlemen of the
time, who thought their interest likely to suffer by the disclosures which it
made of what had hitherto been considered amongst the secrets of the pro^
fession.

Dr Moore's next publication was his celebrated novel, " Zeluco," a work un-
questionably ijf the very highest order of merit, and which has long since
become one of the fixed and component parts of every British library.

50 SIR JOHN MOORE.

In tlic August of 17'J2, he went to Paris, to witness nitli his own eyes the
Dienioraljle proceedings whidi were llien in progress in the I'rendi nnpital,
and which others were content to learn from report. l)r Moore, on tills oo
casion, frequently attended tlie National Assembly. He was present also
at the attack on tiie 'I'liilleries, and witnessed many other sangiiin.iry doings
of that frightl'id period. On his return to England, he began to arrange the
materials with which his journey had supplied hiin, and in 17'J5, publisiied " A
View of the Causes and Progress of the rrencli Revolution," in two volumes
8vo., dedicated to the duke of Devonshire. This work was followed, in 1790,
by " Edward : Various Views of Human Nature, taken from Life and ]Man-
ners, chiefly in England;" and this again, in 1800, by " Mordaunt, being
Sketches of Life, Characters, and Manners in various countries; including the
Memoirs of a French Lady of Quality," in two volumes 8vo. These works
sc^ircely supported the reputation which their author had previously acquired :
in the latter he is supposed, in detailing some gallant feats of a young J5ritish
officer, to allude to his heroic son, the late general Moore, who was then a
field-officer.

Dr Moore has the merit of having been one of the first men of note who ap-
preciated and noticed the talents of Burns, who drew up, and forwarded to him,
at his request, a sketch of his life. This was followed by a correspondence in
1787, which is to be found in those editions of the poet's works, which include
his Letters.

At the time of the publication of ids last work, " Mordaunt," Dr Moore Jiad
attained the 70th year of liis age. He did not again appear before the public,
but spent the short remaining period of his life in the quiet seclusion of his
residence at Richmond, in Surrey. After an illness of considerable duration,
he died at his house in Clifford Street, London, February 2y, 1802.

" As an author," says a distinguished modern writer,' " Dr ]Moore was more
distinguished by the range of his information, than by its accuracy, or extent
upon any particular subject ; and his writings did not owe their celebrity to any
great depth or even originality of thought. As a novelist, he showed no ex-
traordinary felicity in the department of invention ; no great powers of diversi-
fying his characters, or ease in conducting his narrative. The main quality of
his works is that particular species of sardonic wit, with which they are indeed
perhaps profusely tinctured, but which frequently confers a grace and poignancy
on the general strain of good sense and judicious observation, that pervades the
whole of them."

Dr Moore left five sons, and one daughter, by his wife, previously Miss Sim-
son, daughter of the reverend Mr Simson, professor of divinity in the univer-
sity of Glasgow. The eldest of the former, John, became the celebrated military
general already alluded to ; the second adopted his father's profession ; the
third entered the navy; the fourth was admitted into the department of the
secretary of state ; and the filth was bred to the bar.

OIOORE, (Sir) John, a distinguished military connnander, was born at Glasgow,
on the 13tli of November, 176 1. He was the eldest son of Dr John Moore, the
subject of the preceding article, by a daughter of John Simson, professor of
divinity in the university of Glasgow. His education commenced at a public
school in Glasgow, and, afterwards advanced at the university of that city, was
completed under the eye of his father, then acting as travelling tutor to the
duke of Hamilton. The subject of this memoir accompanied Dr JMoore during
five years of continental travel, by which means he acquired a knowledge of

1 Mr Thomas Campbell, hi his memoir of Dr Moore, contributed to Brewster's Edinburgh
Encyclopedia,

SIR JOHN MOOHE. 51

most European languages, and a degree of polish and intelligence very uncom-
mon in young men of his rank, either in that or the present age. Having
chosen the army as a profession, he obtained, through the Hamilton interest, a
commission as ensign in the 5l6t regiment, which he joined at Minorca in
1776, being then only fifteen years of age. A lieutenancy in the 82nd regi-
ment was his first step of promotion ; and he seems to have held that station, with-
out nmch distinction or any censure, during the several campaigns of the Ameri-
can war, at the end of which, in 1783, his regiment was reduced. In 1788,
he was appointed major in the 60th; but tiiis he soon exchanged for a similar
post in his original regiment, the 5 1st: in 1790, he purchased a lieutenant-
colonelcy in the same regiment

Such was the rank of Sir John Moore at the commencement of the French
revolutionary war. From Gibraltar, where he was then stationed, he was ordered,
in 1794, to accompany the expedition for the reduction of Corsica. The bravery
and skill which he displayed on this occiision, especially in storming the Mo-
zello fort, where he received his first wound, introduced him to the favourable
notice of general Charles Stuart, whom he succeeded soon after in the capacity
of adjutant-general. Returning to England in 1795, he was raised to the rank
of brigadier-general, and appointed to serve with Sir Ralph Abercromby, in the
expedition against the West Indies. There he assisted in the reduction of
Demerara, Essequebo, and Berbice, and afterwards in that of St Lucie; in whicli
last enterprise, he had an important post assigned to him, the duties of which he
executed in such a manner, that he was characterized by general Abercromby
as " the admiration of the whole army," and afterwards intrusted with the
government of the island. This charge, undertaken with reluctance, and ren-
dered full of danger and labour from tlie hostility of the natives, and the number
of Maroon negroes who constantly infested the country, was managed with a
decision and activity that overcame every obstacle.

Two successive attacks of the yellow fever, soon compelled general Moore to
leave the West Indies; but, in company Avith Sir Ralph Abercromby, he was
destined to reach yet higher distinction. The fii-st scene in which they again
acted together, was the Irish rebellion of 1798. The victory gained over the
rebels atWexford, mainly owing to the talents of general iMoore, was the pre-
lude to tlie suppression of that luckless movement of an irritated people. This
field of exertion was not that in which a soldier of good feelings can be anxious
to gain distinction ; nor was there much scope for military talent in the enter-
prise. It is, therefore, highly creditable to general Moore, that he acquitted
himself of all the duties intrusted to him on the occasion, with universal appro-
bation.

In 1799, the subject of our memoir, promoted to the rank of major-gene-
ral, served under Sir Ralph Abercromby in the unfortunate expedition to the
Helder, where he displayed his wonted bravery, and was slightly wounded. In
the subsequent campaign in Egypt, under the same commander, he found a wider
and more favourable theatre for the display of his military talents. In the land,
ing at Aboukir, he led the way, and carried by assault the batteries with which
the Fren<-,h endeavoured to prevent that movement. In the subsequent battle of
Aboukir, March 21, 1801, he conducted himself with signal gallantry, and was
severely wounded.

At the end of the campaign, he returned to England, and received the honour
of knighthood, with the order of the Bath. For some time after this, he held
an important command in Kent, and afterwards succeeded general Fox in the
command of the army in Sicily, whence he was recalled in the end of the year
1807. In the month of May, 1808, he was sent to the Baltic, with an arm.a-

52 SIR JOHN MOORE.

meiit of ten thousand men, on belj.ilf of the king of Sweden, who was at this
time threatened with simtlltaneotis attacks from France, Hussia, and Denmark.
With this force, Sir John readied (iottenbiirg on the I7lli, lint was not per-
mitted to land the troops ; lie himself, however, repaired to Stockholm, to con-
sult with tiie Swedisii caljiiict. Here, to his astonisiiment, he learned that the
Swedisli monarcli, desi>isiiij; the tame idea of defensive operations, was wholly
engrossed witli dreams of coiujiiest. He [>r(>posed that some Swedisli regiments
should be collected at (iottenburg, with which the Uritish troops should be
joined, and that tiiis united force should take possession of Zealand. The Uritish
gener.il represented this to be impossible, on account of tlie number of French
and Spanish troops which occupied the island of I'unen, and which could not,
in present circumstances, be prevented from passing over to Zealand. It was
next proposed to land the British alone in Finland, where they would have
had the principal part of the whole effective force of the Hussian empire to con-
tend with. Sir John having, in reply to this proposal, modestly hinted that ten
thousand British troops might not be found equal to such an undertaking, the
impatient Gustavus ordered him to be instantly arrested. He had the good
fortune, iiowever, to make his escape, and with the troops returned immediately
to England. Without being permitted to land, general 3Ioore was ordered to
proceed, under the command of Sir Harry Burrard, to Portugal, in order to
give the aid of his talents to the expedition already formed in that country, for
the assistance of the Spanish patriots, in expelling the French from their terri-
tory.

Sir John did not arrive in Portugal till after the signing of the convention
of Cintra, and thus escaped all participation in the odium which was atta<;hed to
that transaction. Disgusted with the manner in which the affairs of Portugal
were conducted, Sir Arthur Wellesley, now duke of Wellington, applied for
leave of absence, which was granted. Sir Hew Dalrymple was recalled, and Sir
Harry Burrard having resigned. Sir John Moore was left commander-in-chief of
the army. In this command he was formally confirmed by a letter from lord
Castlereagh, dated September 25, 1808, which informed him, that an army
under his orders, of not less than thirty-five thousand men, five thousand of them
cavalry, was to be employed in the north of Spain, for assisting the Span-
ish government. Fifteen thousand troops, it was stated, were to be sent to
join him by the way of Corunna ; and he was to make immediate preparations
for carrying the plan into etl'ect, it being left to his own judgment to march for
some point in Galicia, or on the borders of Leon, by land ; or to transport his
troops by sea, from Lisbon to Corunna, whither the re-inforcements for his
army were to be sent. Sir John Moore lost no time in entering upon the duties
of his important charge, though he seems to have done so under a melancholy
foreboding, sufficiently warranted by the miserable condition of his army, of
what would be the result. " At this instant," he says, writing to lord Castle.
reagh on the receipt of his commission, " the army is without equipments of any
kind, either for the carriage of the light baggage of regiments, military stores,
commissariat stores, or other appendages of an army, and not a magazine is
formed in any of the routes (fur he had determined on the expedition by land)
by which we are to march." By a subsequent letter, written ten days after the
above, we find that the army was also in a great measure destitute of money,
and,- amongst other necessaries, particularly in want of shoes. On the 27th
of October, he left Lisbon, the greater part of the army being already on the
route for Burgos, which had been assigned by the Spanish government as the
point where the British forces were to be concentrated ; Madrid and Valladolid
were the places appointed for magazines : and Sir John 3Ioore was officially in-

SIR JOHN MOORE. 53

formed, that he would find sixty or seventy thousand men, assembled under
Blake and Roniana, in the Asturias and Galicia, ready to act along with him.
These were stated to be independent of the armies in the front and on the left
tiank of the French position ; the latter of which, under the command of the
marquis De Castanos, was supposed to be numerous, and well appointed. The
enthusiasm of the Spaniards in defence of their national independence, was also
stated to be such, that it would be utterly impossible for a French army to enter
the defiles of the Asturias, without being cut ofi'by the armed peasants alone.

All these flattering representations the British general soon found to be ut-
terly destitute of foundation. In marching through Portugal, he was hardly
treated with civility, and everything furnished to him by the authorities was
charged at a high price. Specie, in Britain, was at the time not to be ob-
tained, and not only government bills, but even promissory notes, were refused,
which subjected the army to great inconvenience, and much extra expense.
The ignorance, too, of the Portuguese, was so extreme, that the state of the
roads could not be ascertained, but by sending British officers, stage by stage,
a-head of the advancing columns. With all these disadvantages, however, the
general and a part of the army reached Almeida on the 8th of November.
The weatiier was exceedingly i-ainy, but the troops moved on, and hitherto had
conducted themselves with a propriety and moderation which surprised the in-
habitants. Here, however, it was found that some soldiers had committed sev-
eral serious crimes, and it being judged necessary that a signal example should
be made to prevent their recurrence, one of the most notorious offenders was
put to death. The general orders on this occasion, we lay before the reader,
as illustrative of the highly dignified and amiable character of Sir John Moore.

" Nothing could be more pleasing to the commander of the forces, than to
show mercy to a soldier of good character, who had been led inadvertently to
commit a crime ; but he should consider himself neglectful of his duty, if, from
ill-judged lenity, he pardoned deliberate villany.

" The crime committed by the prisoner now under sentence, is of this nature;
and there is nothing in his private character or conduct, which could give the
least hope of his amendment, were he pardoned. He must, therefore, sufHir
the awful punishment to which he has been condemned. The commander of
the forces trusts that the troops he commands, will seldom oblige him to resort
to punishments of this kind ; and such is his opinion of British soldiers, that he
is convinced they will not, if the officers do their duty, and pay them proper
attention. He, however, takes this opportunity to declare to the army, that he
is determined to show no mercy to plunderers and marauders, or, in ether words,
to thieves and villains. The army is sent by England to aid and support the
Spanish nation, not to plunder and rob its inhabitants; and soldiers, who so
far forget what is due to their own honour, and the honour of their country, as
to commit such acts, shall be delivered over to justice. Ihe military law must
take its course, and the punishment it awards shall be inflicted."

On the II th of November, the advanced guard'Sirossed a rivulet, which divides
Portugal from Spain, and marched to Ciudad Rodrigo, the governor of which
met the British general two miles from the city. A salute was fired from the
ramparts, and the general was afterwards hospitably entertained in the principal
house in the town. The state of the country, and the manners of the people,
they found here to be reniarkably changed, and the change highly to the ad-
vantage of Spain. At Ciudad Rodrigo they were received by the people with
shouts of " Viva los Ingleses." On the I3th, Sir John 3Ioore arrived at Sala-
manca, where he halted to concentrate his forces ; Burgos, the place appointed
for that purpose, being already occupied by the French. On his arrival at

54 Sm JOHN MOORE.

S.ilanianca. Sir .loliii ^loore addressed a long letter to lord William llentiiifik, a
few extracts from wliicli will jml the reader in jiossession of tiie knowledge of
Sir Jolm's feelings and views, and of the stale of the «;ountry at this jieriod. " I
am sorry to say," he writes, " from Sir David Haird 1 hear nothing but com-
plaints of the Junta of Coninna, \viio ollered him no assistance. 'I'iiey promise
every thing, but give nothing; and, after waiting day after tiay for carts ^vhic.li
(hey had jiromisevl to procure for tlie carriage of stores, his commissary Avas at
last obliged to contract for them at an exorbitant price, and tlien got them.
Tliis is really a sort of conduct (piite intolerable to troops that the Spanish

government have asked for, and for whose advance they are daily pressing

On my arrival here, and telling colonel O'LowIar that I wished to have supplies
immediately provided on the road from Astorga to this place, for the march of
the troops from Corunna, he began by telling nie, that a power wliich he should
liave got, and which it was j)romised should be sent after him from Madrid, had
not been sent ; that he had tiius no authority, and had hitherto been acting
upon his own credit, &c. I run over all tliis to you, though perhaps it should
properly be addressed to Mr Frere, but to you 1 can state it with more ease ;
and I shall thank you to speak to Frere upon it, when I hope he will have some
serious counnunication with the Spanish ministers, and plainly tell them, if they
expect the advance of the British army, they must pay somewhat more attention
to its wants. Proper officers must be sent to me, vested with full powers to call
forth the resources of the country when they ar.} wanted, and without delay, the
same as is done, I presume, for the Spanish armies. We shall pay, but they are
not to allow us to be imposed upon, but to tell us what is paid by the Spanish
government in such cases. We find no difficulty with the people ; they receive
us everywhere well, but the authorities are backward, and not like those of
a country who wish our assistance. With respect to magazines, it is impossi-
ble for me to say where they ought to be made. W itli respect to those at
Madrid, it is very likely to be a proper place for Spain to collect a considerable
depot of various kinds. It is their capital, and they know best; but it does not
seem to me to be a place where the British could be called upon to make any
collection. We shall establish small magazines, for consumption, in the neigh-
bourhood where we are acting. Those great resources which a country makes for
general supply, should be made by Spain, that when we approach them, we may
draw from them, and pay for what we get : but Spain should make them, and be at
the expense and trouble of their conservation. As I believe we are giving money
to Spain, part of it may be applied by them in this manner ; but it is they that
should do it, not we. I have no objection to you or Mr Frere representing the
necessity of as many more British troops, as you think proper. It is certain
tliat the agents which our government have hitherto employed, have deceived
them ; for affliirs here are by no means in the flourishing state they are re-
presented and believed to be in England, and the sooner the truth is known
there, the better. But you must observe, my lord, that whatever is critical,
must now be decided by the trrtops which are here. The French, I suspect, are
ready, and will not wait. I differ with you in one point, — when you say the
chief and great obstacle and resistance to the French, will be afforded by the
English army : if that be so, Spain is lost. The English army, I hope, will do
all which can be expected from their numbers; but the safety of Spain depends
upon the union of its inhabitants, their enthusiasm in their cause, and their firm
determination to die rather than submit to the French. Nothing short of this,
will enable them to resist the formidable attack about to be made upon them.
If they will adhere, our aid can be of the greatest use to them; but if not, we
shall soon be out-numbered, were our force quadrupled. I am, therefore, much

SIR JOHN MOORE, 55

more anxious to see exertion and energy in tlie government, and entliusiasm in
their armies, than to have my force augmented. The moment is a critical one,
— my own situation is peculiarly so, — I have never seen it otherwise; but I have
pusiied into Spain at all hazards. This was the order of my government, and it
was the will of the people of England. I shall endeavour to do my best, hoping
that all the bad that may happen, will not happen, but that with a share of bad,
we shall also have a portion of good fortune."

The despondency here expressed by the general was not lessened by the in-
formation he received in two days afterwards, that the French were not only in
possession of Burgos, but also of Valladolid, within twenty leagues of Salaman.
ca, where he now lay with only three brigades of infantry, and without a single
gun ; and, though the remainder of his army was coming up as fast as possible,
he was aware that the whole could not arrive in less tlian ten days. Instead of
the Spanish army of seventy thousand men that was to have joined him here,
there was not so much as a single Spanish piquet to cover his front, or to act
as guides in the country, of every portion of which the British army, both of-
ficers and men, were perfectly ignorant. Sir John Moore immediately commun-
icated the intelligence to the Junta of Salamanca ; telling them that he must
have the use of all the carts and mules in the country to transport his
magazines to Ciudad Kodrigo should it become requisite, and that the troops
witli three days' provisions should be kept in readiness ; but he added, that as
he had not yet stopped the advance of the rest of the army from Portugal, he
was desirous of assembling it there, and would not retire without an absolute
necessity. All this was listened to with calm acquiescence. The general in the
mean time found, that though a patrol of horse had neared Valladolid, none of
the French infantry had yet passed Burgos, and he gave orders to generals
Baird and Hope, to advance upon Salamanca with all speed, but to be upon
their guard on the march. The junta of Ciudad Rodrigo about this time or-
dered twenty thousand dollars to be placed at his disposal, and a letter from
lord Castlereagh brought him intelligence that two millions of dollars had been
despatched for him on the 2nd of the month, and were already on the way to
Corunna. His lordship at the same time told him, that the scarcity of money
in England was such, that he nmst not look for any further supply for some
months, and recommended it to him to procure as nmch money on the spot as
possible. Encouraged so far by these advices. Sir John Moore continued to
concentrate his forces at Salamanca, though upon what principle does not ap-
pear; for he seems to have been filled with the most dismal anticipations.
" Every effort," he says, writing to lord Castlereagh on the 24th of November,
" shall be exerted on my part, and that of the officers with me, to unite the
army ; but your lordship must be prepared to hear that we have failed ; for,
situated as we are, success cannot be commanded by any efforts we can make, if
the enemy are prepared to oppose us." To add to all his other grounds of de-
spondency, he considered Portugal as utterly indefensible by any force England
could send thither. *' If the French succeed in Spain, it will be in vain," he
says, in another letter to lord Castlereagh, " to attempt to resist them in Portugal.
The Portuguese are without a military force, and from the experience of their
conduct under Sir Arthur Wellesley, no dependence is to be placed on any aid they
can give. The British must in that event, I conceive, immediately take steps
to evacuate the country. Lisbon is the only port, and therefore the only place
whence the army with its stores can embark. Elvas and Almeida are the only
fortresses on the frontiers. The first is, I am told, a respectable work. Al-
meida is defective, and could not hold out beyond ten days against a regular
attack. I have ordered a depot of provisions for a short consumption to be

66 SIR JOHN MOORE.

formed tliere, in rase tliis niiiiy sliould be obliged lo fall bark ; ]»ciba]>s tlie
same sliould be done at Klvas. In tliis rase, we niigbl <lie(k tlie progress of
the enemy whilst the stores were embarking, and .irrangements were made for
taking oirthe army. Beyond this, the defence of Lisbon, or of rorliigal, sliould
not be thought of."

The news of Castanos being defeated having readied liini on the 2Sth ot
November, he determined to fall back njton Portugal, and sent orders for
general Hope to join him by forced marches, and lor Sir David Baird to re-
treat upon Corunna ; desiring the latter, however, to send back his stores, and
keep liis design, and the fact of his retreat, as much out of view as possible. He
wrote to lord C'astlercagh on the 29tli, that he had so done, and requesting that
transports might be sent to the Tagus to receive the troops, as he was still of
opinion that Portugal was not defensible by a British army. On the 5th of
December, he wrote again to his lordship, that the junction of general Hope
had been secured, and that Bonaparte had directed his whole force upon
Madrid, in consequence of which he hoped to reach Portugal unmolested. The
idea of a retreat, however, was exceedingly disagreeable to the army, and in
this letter Sir John 3Ioore gives liis reasons for adopting such a measure at con-
siderable length, and seems extremely anxious to justify it. He did not pro-
pose, however, wholly to desert the Sjianiards ; but he thought they might be
aided upon some other point, and for this cause liad ordered Sir David Baird to
sail with his troops to meet the remainder of the army at the mouth of the
Tagus, if he did not receive other orders from England. He had also >vritten a
long letter of the same kind, on the 1st of December, to Sir Charles Stuart at
Madrid, in which he also requests that some money might be sent him from that
place. " Such," says he " is our want of it, that if it can be got at a hundred
per cent., we must have it; do, therefore, if possible, send me some at
any rate." To this letter Sir John Moore received an answer, soften-
ing down the defeat of Castanos, which was followed by a requisition
on the part of the Junta, military and civil, of all the united authorities
of the kingdom, that he would move forward to the defence of Madrid,
which was threatened by the enemy, and was preparing to make the most
determined defence. This was seconded by Mr Frere, the British resident,
and by another person who had been an eye-witness of the extraordinary effer-
vescence at Madrid. Sir John Moore, in consequence of this, on the 5tli
of December, the same day that he had written to lord Castlereagh, ordered Sir
David Baird to suspend his march, and determined to wait in the position he
occupied till he should see further into the matter, and afterwards to be guided
by circumstances. Sir David luckily had proceeded but a little way back, so
that little time was lost. General Hope had brought up his division close to
Salamanca, which made the little army complete, having both cavalry and ar-
tillery ; and by a single movement to the left, Sir John Moore could make his
junction with Sir David Baird a matter of cei'tainty. Madrid, however, had
capitulated on the third of the month, and was in the hands of the enemy two
days before Sir John Moore had resolved to countermand the retreat. The in-
telligence upon which he had acted, was in fact void of any real foundation
and the prince of Castelfranco, and his excellency, Don Thomas Morla, had al-
ready commenced a treaty for delivering up Madrid to the French, when they
signed the pressing requisition of the Junta to him to hasten to its relief. Mr
Frere, too, the dupe of his own warm fancy, or of the interested representations
of the feeble but sanguine spirits who at this time held the government of
Spain, was weak enough to assist this imposture, and to take the most unwar-
rantable liberties. He sent to Sir John Moore a flippant Frenchman, named

SIR JOHN MOORE. 57

Cliarinilly, willi a deniaiul, that before lie commenced his proposed retreat, the
said Freiichuian should be examined before a council of wav. To mark the
opinion he entertained of Cliarmilly, Sir John Moore ordered the adjutant
of the army to give him a uritten order to retire, and he requested Mr Frere,
when he had such messages to deliver, to employ some other person, as he en-
tertained a strong prejudice against all such characters ; otherwise he treated
Mr Frere with the usual deference. Anxious to be useful to the cause of Spain,
the British general wrote to the marquis de la Komana, to suggest measures for
their acting in concert, that they might, if possible, support Madrid. On the
7th, Sir John Moore was favoured with a most patriotic address from the Junta
of Toledo, which declared that the members of the Junta were determined to
die in delence of their country. Pleased with this manifestation of public
spirit, though it Avas only on paper, Sir John sent one of his officers to form
with them a plan of defence for the city ; but, as the French approached, the
Junta prudently retired, and the duke of Belluno took peaceable possession of
the place. Nothing could be more hopeless than the condition of the Spaniards
at this time. Bessieres was driving the uretched remains of the centre army,
as it was called, on the road to Valencia ; Toledo was occupied by Belluno ; tlie
duke of Dantzic, with a strong division was on the road for Badajos, with the
design of seizing upon Lisbon or Cadiz. The duke of Treviso was proceeding
against Saragossa. The duke of Dalmatia was preparing to enter Leon, and
Bonaparte at Madrid was ready to second all their movements, together or
separately, as events should require. It was in circumstances of which lie was
totally unaware, that Sir John Moore found himself called upon to commence
active operations. He was necessarily prevented from advancing upon Madrid
by the knowledge that the passes of Somosierra and Guadarama were in the
hands of the French ; but, having ordered Sir David Baird to advance, he him-
self moved forward to Toro, intending to unite with Sir David Baird at Valla-
dolid. The object of this movement was to favour IMadrid and Sai'agossa, by
threatening to intercept the communication with France. On the 12th, lord
Paget, with the principal part of the cavalry, marched from Toro to lordesil-
las; while brigadier-general Stuart, commanding the 18th and king's Glerman
dragoons, was moving from Arevolo. In his march, general Stuart, with a
party of the 18th dragoons, surprised a party of French cavalry and infantry
in the village of Eeveda, and killed or made prisoners the whole detachment.
This was the first encounter of the French and British in Spain, an earnest of
what was yet to be there achieved by British skill and British valour. On the
14th, the head quarters of the army were at Alcejos, when, by an intercepted
despatch. Sir John Mocre was put in possession of the real state of affairs, with
the objects which Bonaparte had in view, by despatching after him the duke of
Dalmatia, with whom he was already almost in contact. Tliis intelligence de-
termined the general, instead of going on to Valladolid, as was intended, to
face about, and hasten to unite himself with the part of his army which was un-
der Sir David Baird, and, if possible, to surprise the duke of Dalmatia at Sal-
danha before he should be further reinforced. Writing of his intended junction
with Sir David Baird, to lord Castlereagh on the 16th, he adds, " If then mar-
shal Soult is so good as to approach us, we shall be much obliged to him ; but
if not we shall march towards him. It will be very agreeable to give a wipe to
such a corps, although, with respect to the cause generally, it will probably
have no effect, Spain being in the state described in Berthier's letter. She has
made no efforts for hei'self ; ours came too late, and cannot, at any rate, be suf-
ficient."

The armies were now near one another. The patrols of the cavalry reached

58 SIR JOHN MOORE.

as far as Vallailolul, ami liad iVcfinent aixl siinTssfiil skiniiislifs with tlie enemy.
On llie 20tli, Sii- John IMooie roriiifil a junction uilh Sir David l?aird ; the
head-qiiaiteis of the army being at ^lajorga, but the <;avalry and liorse artillery
uere at IMonaslero IMilgar Abaxo, three leagues from Saliagun, where a division
of the enemy's cavalry were posted. The weather was extremely (!(dd, and the
ground covered with snow, yet lord Paget set out at two o'clock of the morning
to surprise the French position. (ieneral Slade, with the 10th hussars, ap-
proached the town along the Cea, while his lordship, with the 1 5lh dragoons
and some horse artillery, approached from another direction, lieaching the
town by the dawn, they surprised a piquet; but one or two escaping, gave the
alarm and enable*! the enemy to form outside the town. The ground was at
lirst unfavourable to the British, but the superior skill of lord Paget overcame
the difliculty. The French having wheeled into line, to receive the shock of
the British charge, were overthrown in a moment, and dispersed in all direc-
tions. The 15th hussars, only four hundred strong, encountered seven hundred
French, and completely routed them. Many of the French were killed, and
one hundred and fiftyrseven, including two lieutenant-colonels, were taken
prisoners. Sir John Moore reached Sahagun on the 2151, where the troops
were halted for a day, to recover the fatigue of the forced marches they had
made. On tlie 23d, every arrangement was completed for attacking the duke of
Dalmatia, who, after the defeat of his cavalry at Sahagun, had concentrated his
troops, to the amount of eighteen thousand, behind the river Carrion ; seven
thousand being posted at Saldanha, and five thousand in the town of Carrion.
Detachments were also placed to guard the fords and the bridges. The corps
of Junot, Sir John Moore was aware, had also its advanced posts between Vit-
toria and Burgos. The spirit and the feeling under which he was now acting,
were not at all enviable. " The movement I am making," he writes, " is of
the most dangerous kind. I not only risk to be surrounded every moment by
superior forces, but to have my communication intercepted with the C^alicias. I
wish it to be apparent to the whole world, as it is to every individual of the
army, that we have done everything in our power in support of the Spanish
cause, and that we do not abandon it until long after the Spaniards had aban-
doned us." As already said, however, the preparations, for attacking the duke
of Dalmatia, were completed. The generals received their instructions, and the
army, burning with impatience, was to march to the attack at eight o'clock
in the evening. Unfavourable reports through the day, and a letter from
the marquis de la Romana, confirming these reports, led to an opposite
line of conduct. The march to the Carrion was countermanded, and immediate
steps taken for retreating upon Astorga. The duke of Dalmatia had been dai-
ly receiving strong reinforcements for some time, and his army was already
greatly superior to the British. The duke of Abrantes had advanced from
Burgos to Valencia, and threatened the right flank of the British. Bonaparte
himself had left ]\Iadrid on the 18th, with thirty-two thousand infantry, and
eight thousand cavalry, part of which had reached Tordesillas on the 24th, and
before the British had begun to retreat from Sahagun, they were moving with
all haste upon the same point with the latter on Benevente. The duke of
Dantzic, too, was recalled from his march towards Badajos, and ordered for
Salamanca; and even the duke of Treviso, sent to take vengeance on Saragossa,
was ordered to join in the pursuit of the British. Every preparation having
been made, general Frazer, followed by general Hope, marched with their divi-
sions on the 24th of December to Valdinas and Majorga, and Sir David BaJrd
to Valencia. This movement was concealed by lord Paget, who pusiied strong
patrols of cavalry up to the advanced posts of the enemy. The reserve followed

SIR JOHN MOORE. 59

from Sahagun on the morning of the 25th ; and lord Paget, in company with
Sir John Moore, with the cavalry, followed in the evening. On the 24th of
December, the advanced guard of Bonaparte marched from Tordesillas, which is
a hundred and twenty miles from Bladrid, and fifty from Benevente. Strong
detachments of artillery had been pushed forward on the road to Villalpando
and Majorga, one of which lord Paget encountered at the latter place, on the
26th. Colonel Leigh, with two squadrons of the 10th hussars, was ordered to
charge this corps, which he did, and completely routed it, taking more than one
hundred prisoners. Nothing could exceed the coolness and gallantry displayed
by the British cavalry on this occasion. The 10th dragoons had already sig-
nalized their valour, and been victors in six several attacks. At Valencia, cap-
tain Jones, with only twenty men, charged a hundred French dragoons, killed
fourteen of them, and made six prisoners. Generals Hope and Frazer reached
Benevente on the night of the 26th. On the 27th, the rear-guard crossed the
Eslar, blew up the bridge, and followed the same route. After resting a short
time at Benevente, and publishing general orders to the troops, whose conduct,
since the commencement of the retreat, had assumed a disgraceful character, the
army moved for Astorga on the 2Sth. Lord Paget, being left with the cavalry
to bring up the rear, observed some of the enemy's horse attempting a ford be-
low the bridgQ which had been blown up, and between five and six hundred of
Bonaparte's imperial guards dashed into the river, and passed over. The
piquets, who had been divided to watch the ford, amounting only to two hun-
dred and twenty men, retired slowly before such superior numbers, disputing
every inch of ground, till lord Paget, with the 10th hussars, coming up, they
wheeled round, and plunged into the Avater, leaving behind them fifty-five men
killed and wounded, and seventy prisoners, among whom was general Le Febvre
the commander of the imperial guard. Some doubt, it would appear, hung
upon the general's mind, whether Vigo or Corunna was the most eligible place
for the embarkation of the troops ; and wishing to have either of them still
in his choice, he sent general Crawford, with three thousand men, lightly
equipped, on the road to Orenge, so far on the way to Vigo. With the rest
of the troops he proceeded to Astorga. The marquis de la Romana had been left
to destroy the bridge of Mansilla ; and after having performed that duty, had
been desired to turn to Asturias, in the fortresses of which he might find safety,
and at the same time make some small diversion in favour of the British army :
but he had left the bridge in charge of a small guard, which delivered it up to
the cavah-y of Soult; and he possessed himself here of a great part of the accom-
modations which were intended for the British troops. His half naked troops
carried away a part of the stores which had been collected at this place, a great
part of which had to be destroyed for want of means to remove thevn. At Astorga,
another general order was issued, respecting the moral conduct of the troops,
which had not improved since they left Benevente. The advanced guard, and
the main body of the British army, marched on the 30th for Villa Franca ; Sir
John Moore, with general Paget, and the reserve, followed on the 3 1st. The
cavalry reached Camberas at midnight, when the reserve proceeded, and arrived
next morning, January 1, remaining at Bembilene, as the preceding divisions were
marching off to Villa Franca. Here an unparalleled scene of debauchery pre-
sented itself. The stragglers from the preceding divisions so crowded the houses,
that there was not acconnnodation for the reserve, while groups of the half naked
wretches belonging to the marquis of Romana, completed the confusion. The
French were following so close, that their patrols during the night fell in with
the cavalry piquets. When Sir John Moore, with the reserve and the cavalry,
marched for Villa Franca, on the 2d of January, he left colonel Ross, with the

CO SIR JOHN MOOKE.

20th regiment, and a detachment of cavalry, to cover the town ; while parties
were sent to warn tiie straj^^^lers, nniouiiting to one thousand men, of their
dnnger, and to drive them, if j)ossil)le, out of the houses. Some few were per-
suaded to move on, hut the far greater number, in despite of tlireals, and re-
gardless of the approaciiing enemy, persisted in remaining, and were therefore
left to llieir fate. The cavalry, however, only quitted the town on the npjtroach
of tiie enemy, and then, from the sense of immediate danger, was tlie road filled
with stragglers, armed and unarmed, n)iiles, c-arls, women and children, in tlie
utmost confusion, Tlie patrol of hussars wlii<;h had remained to protect them,
^vas now closely pursued for several miles by five squadrons of French <;avalry,
who, as they galloped through the long line of stragglers, slashed them with their
swords, right and left, without mercy, while, overcome with liquor, they could
neither make resistance, nor get out of the way. At Villa Franca, the general
lieard, with deep regret, of the irregularities which had been committed by the
preceding divisions. Magazines had been plundered, stores of wine broken
open, and large quantities of forage and provisions destroyed. One man who
had been detected in these atrocities, was immediately shot; and a number of the
stragglers, who had been miserably wounded by the French cavalry, were car-
ried through the ranks, to show the melancholy consequences of inebriety, and
the imprudence of quitting their companions. Failing of his aim of intercept-
ing the British at Astorga, Bonaparte did not proceed farther, but he ordered
Souk, with an overwhelming foice, to pursue, and drive them into the sea ; and
on the 3d of January, they pressed so hard upon the rear of the retreating
army, that Sir John Moore resolved upon a night march from Villa Franca to
Herrerias. From the latter place he proceeded to Lugo, where he deteiniined
to offer the enemy battle ; and for tliis purpose he sent forward despatches to Sir
David Baird, who was in front, to halt. He also enclosed the same orders for
generals Hope and P^razer, who commanded the advanced divisions. These he
forwarded to Sir David Baird, by his aid-de-camp, captain Napier, accompanied
by an orderly dragoon. Sir David again forwarded them to the respective officers;
but the orderly dragoon, having got intoxicated, lost them : in consequence of
wiiich general Frazer marched on a day's journey on the road to Vigo, which he
had to countermarch next day, in dreadful weather, by which he lost a number
of his men. It was now determined to march upon Corunna, as being nearer
than Vigo; and an express was sent off to Sir Samuel Hood, to order the ti'ans-
ports round to that place. On the road to Nagles, the reserve fell in with forty
waggons with stores, sent from England for the marquis of Roniana's army. As
there were no means of carrying them back, shoes, and such things as could be
made use of, were distributed to the troops as they passed, and the rest destroy-
ed. On the i/th, the rifle corps, which covered the reserve, was engaged with
the enemy nearly the whole day, while everything that retarded the march
was destroyed. Two carts of dollars, amounting to twenty-five thousand pounds,
were rolled down a precipice on the side of the road, which the advanced guard
of the French passed in less than five minutes thereafter. It was afterwards
ascertained that this money fell into the hands of the Spanish peasants. At
Lugo, another severe general order was issued, and a position taken up for
battle. The French made an attack on part of this position on the 7th, but
were repulsed with ease. On the 8th, everything was disposed for a general
engagement ; Soult, however, did not think fit to make the attack, and the
British army not being now in a state to undergo a protracted warfare, it was
resolved to continue the retreat. The different brigades accordingly quitted the
ground about ten o'clo<;k at night, leaving their fires burning to deceive the enemy.
Great disorders still reigned among the troops, who were suffering dreadfully

SIR JOHN MOORE. 61

from the severity of the weather, and from long marches on bad roads ; yet, at
Bitanzos, it nas judged preferable to keep the troops exposed to the cold and
rain, rather than to the in-esistible temptations of the wine houses in the town.
Here a new order was issued, and particular duties demanded to be performed
by the officers. Tlie last day's march, on tlie 11 th, was conducted with more
propriety than any that had preceded it ; yet eight or nine stragglers were de-
tected, ^vho had preceded their column, and taken possession of a wine house,
and all that was in it. They were seized, and brought before the general, who
lialted the army, and sent for the officers of the regiments to which they be-
longed. The culprits' haversacks were then searched, when the general de-
clared that, had he found any plunder in them, their owners would have been
hanged ; but that he would liave considered their guilt in a great measure attri-
butable to the negligence of their officers. On finishing this inquiry, Sir John
Moore rode on to Corunna, and examined every position in its neighbourhood.
The troops were quartered, partly in the town, and partly in tiie suburbs ;
General Paget, with the reserve, at El-Burgo, near the bridge of the JVIoro, and
in the villages on the St Jago road. Adverse winds had detained the transports,
otherwise the whole army would have been embarked before the enemy could
have come up. Only a few ships lay in the harbour, in which some sick men,
and some stragglers who had preceded the army, and represented themselves
sick, had embarked. The army, though much fatigued, arrived at its destined
position unbroken, and in good spirits. Bonaparte, with seventy thousand men,
had in vain attempted to impede its progress; and its rear-guard, tiiough often
engaged, had never been thrown into confusion. But the greatest danger was still
to be incurred. The situation of Corunna was found to be unfavourable; the trans-
ports had not arrived ; the enemy was already appearing on the heights, and might
soon be expected in overwhelming force. Several of his officers, recollect-
ing, perhaps, the convention of Cintra, gave it as their advice, that Sir John
Moore should apply to the Duke of Dalmatia for permission to embai-k his troops
unmolested. This, liowever, he positively rejected. The officers, in the first
place, were busied in attempting to restore some degree of discipline among the
troops, and in providing such refreshments for them as the place would afford.
The ground, in the mean time, was carefully examined, and the best dispositions
that could be thought of made for defence. On the 13th, Sir John Moore was
on horseback by the break of day, making arrangements for battle. He
returned about eleven, worn out with fatigue; sent for brigadier-general Stuart,
and desired him to proceed to England, to explain to ministers the situation of
the army. He was, he said, so tired, that he was incapable of writing ; but
that he (general Stuart) being a competent judge, did not require any letter.
After taking some refresiunent, however, and resting two hours, the ship not
being quite ready, nor general Stuart gone, he called for paper, and wrote his
last despatch. On the 14th, the French commenced a cannonade on the left,
which the British returned with such eflect, as to make the enemy draw offi On
a liill outside the British posts, were found tliis day five thousand barrels of gun-
powder, which had been sent from England, and lay here neglected, though the
Spanish armies were in a great measure ineffective for want of ammunition. As
many barrels as conveyance could be found for, which was but very few, were
carried back to Corunna ; the remainder were blown up. Tlie explosion shook
the town of Corunna like an earthquake. This evening the transports from
Vigo hove in sight. On the 15th, the enemy advanced to the height where the
magazine had been blown up ; and colonel Mackenzie, of the 5th regiment, in at-
tempting to seize upon two of the enemy's guns, was killed. The artillery was
this day embai-ked, with the exception of seven six-pounders and one howitzer,

62 SIR JOHN MOORE.

which were employed in the lines of defence, and four Spnnisli guns, kept as a
reserve. On this and the prcreding day, the sick, the disnioiinted cavalry,
horses, and artillery, wore carried on board llic ships, and every arrangement was
made for embarkin;,^ die whole army on the ftillowing cening. Next morning
the enemy remained (jiiiet, and ihe preparations being completed, it was finally
resolved that the embarkation should take place that evening, and all the neces-
sary orders were aii^ordingly issued. About noon. Sir John Moore sent for
colonel An<lerson, to whom the care of the embarkation was confided, and or-
dered him to have all the boats disengaged by four o'clock, as, if the enemy did
not move, he would embark the reserve at that hour, and would go out himself
as soon as it was dark, and send in the troops in the order he wished them to
be embarked. At one o'clock, bis horse was brought, when he took leave of
Anderson, saying, " Remember 1 depend upon your paying particular attention
to everything that concerns the embarkation, and let there be as little confu-
sion as possible. ' IMounting his horse, he set out to visit the outposts, and to
explain his designs to his ollicers. On his way, he was met by a report from
general Hope, that the enemy's line was getting under arms, at which he ex-
pressed the highest satisfaction ; but regretted that there would not be daylight
enough to reap all the advantages he anticipated. Galloping into the field, he
found the piquets already beginning to fire on the enemy's light troops, which
were pouring down the hill. Having carefully examined the position, and the
movements of the armies, he sent oiT almost all his staff officers with orders to
the different genera's, and hastened himself to the right wing, the position of
which was bad, and which, if forced, would have ruined his whole army. This
dangerous post was held by the Ith, 42nd, and 50lh regiments. As the general
anticipated, a furious attack was made on this part of his line, which he saw
nobly repelled by the 50tli and 4-2nd, whom he cheered on in person, calling
out to them to remember Egypt. Having ordered up a battalion of the guards,
captain Hardinge was pointing out to him their position, when he was beat to
the ground by a cannon ball, which struck him on the left shoulder, carrying
it entirely away, with part of the collar bone. Notwithstanding the severity or
the wound, he sat up, with an unaltered countenance, looking intently at the
Highlanders, who uere warmly engaged ; and his countenance brightened,
when he was told that they were advancing. With the assistance of a soldier of
the 42nd, he was removed a few yards behind the shelter of a wall; colonel
Graham of Balgowan and captain Woodford, coming up at the instant, rode
off for a surgeon. Captain Hardinge, in the mean time, attempted to stop the
blood, which was flowing in a torrent, with his sash ; but this, from the size of
the wound, was in vain. Having consented to be carried to the rear, he was
raised up to be laid in a blanket for that purpose. His sword hanging on the
wounded side seemed to annoy him, and captain Hardinge was unbuckling it
from his waist, when he said with a distinct voice, *' It is as well as it is, I had
rather it should go out of the field with nie." He was borne out of the
field by six soldiers of the 42nd. Captain Hardinge remarking, that he
trusted he would yet recover, he looked steadfastly at the wound, and said,
" No, Hardinge, I feel that to be impossible." When this officer expressed a
wish to accompany him, he said, " You need not go with me. Report to
general Hope that I am wounded, and carried to the rear." A sergeant of the
42nd, and two spare files escorted the general to Corunna, while cap-
tain Hardinge hastened to c<arry his orders to general Hope. The following is
his friend colonel Anderson's account of his last moments. " I met the general
in the evening of the 16lh, bringing in, in a blanket and sashes ; he knew me
immediately, though it was almost dark ; squeezed my hand, and said, ' Aiider-

ROBERT MORISON. 63

son, don't leave nie.' He spoke to the surgeons while they were examining
his wound, but was in such pain, he could say little. After some time he seemed
very anxious to speak to me, and at intervals expressed himself as foUo^vs :
* Anderson, you know that I have always wished to die this way.' He then
asked, ' Are the French beaten ?' a question which he repeated to every one
he knew as they came in. ' I hope the people of England will be satisfied.
I hope my country will do me justice. Anderson, you will see my friends as
soon as you can. Tell them everything. My mother' — Here his voice quite
failed, and he was excessively agitated. * Hope — Hope — I have much to say
to him — but — cannot get it out. Are colonel Graham, and all my aids-de-camp
well. [A private sign was made by colonel Anderson not to inform him that
captain Burrard, one of his aids-de-camp, was wounded.] I have made my will,
and remembered my servants. Colborne has my will, and all my papers."
Major Colborne then came into the room. He spoke most kindly to him,
and then said to me, ' Anderson, remember you go to * * * * and tell
him it is my request, and that I expect he will give major Colborne a lieutenant-
colonelcy. He has been long with me, and I know him most worthy of it.'
He then asked major Colborne if the French were beaten ; and on being told
that they were, on every point, he said, * It is a great satisfaction for me to
know we have beaten the French. Is Paget in the room ?' On my telling him
that he was not, he said, ' Remember me to him ; it's general Paget I mean. He
is a fine fellow. I feel myself so strong, I fear 1 shall be long dying. It is
great uneasiness — it is great pain. Every thing Francois says is right. I have
the greatest confidence in him.' He thanked the surgeons for tiieir trouble.
Captains Percy and Stanley, two of his aids-de-camp, then ciime into the room.
He spoke kindly to both, and asked if all his aids-de-camp were well. After
some interval, he said, ' Stanhope, remember me to your sister.' He pressed
my hand close to his body, and in a few minutes died without a struggle."

Thus died Sir John Moore in the forty-seventh year of his age, after having
conducted one of the most difilcult retreats on record, and secured the safety of
the army intrusted to him. Few deaths Iiave excited a greater sensation at the
time they took place. The house of commons passed a vote of thanks to his
army, and ordered a monument to be erected for him in St Paul's Cathedral.
Glasgow, his native city, erected a bronze statue to his memory, at a cost of
upwards of three thousand pounds. The extent of his merits has not failed to
be a subject of controversy ; but it seems to be now generally allowed by all,
except tliose who are blinded by party zeal, that, in proportion to the means
intrusted to him, they were very great.

" Succeeding achievements of a more extensive and important nature," says
the autlior of the Pleasures of Hope lEdin. Encyc. art. Sir John Moore],
" have eclipsed the reputation of this commander, but the intrepidity and man-
ly uprightness of his character, manifested at a time when the British army was
far from being distinguished in these respects, are qualities far more endearing
than military fame. They extorted admiration even from his enemies ; and
the monument erected by the French officers over his grave at Corunna, attests
the worth of both parties."

MORISON, Robert, an eminent botanist of the seventeenth century, was born
at Aberdeen in the year 1620. He completed his education in the university of
that city, and in 1638 took the degree of Doctor in Philosophy. He was original-
ly designed by his parents for the church, but his own taste led him to the study
of botany and physic; and his attachment to those sciences finally prevailing
over every other consideration, he began to follow them as a profession. His
attachment to the royal cause, induced him to take an active part in the political

G4 ROBERT MORTSON.

disturbiiiicos of liis times. He w;i3 present at tlio battle of llie Urid<;e of Uee,
near Aberdeen, anil was severely wounded in liiat engagement. On liis re-
covery, he went to I'aris, where ho obtained employment as a tutor to the
son of counsellor I'rizet ; but at the same time ho zealouily devoted himself to
the study of botany, anatomy, and zoology.

In lOlS, he took a doctor's degree in physic at Angers ; and now became
so distinguished by his skill in b;»tany, that, on the recommendation of 31r
Kobins, king's botanist, he was taken into the patronage of the duke of Or-
leans, uncle to Louis XIV., and appointed, in 10 50, intendant of the ducal
gardens at Blois, with a handsome salary. In this situation he remained till
the duke's death, which took place in 1()G0. While employed in the capacity
of intendant, IMorison discovered to his patron, the duke of Orleans, the melhotl
of botany, which afterwards acquired him so much celebrity. Ihe latter,
much pleased with its ingenuity, and the talent which it displayed, atibrded its
discoverer every encouragement to prosecute it to completion : and sent him, at
his own expense, through various piovinces of France, to search for new plants,
and to acquire what other information such an excursion might adbrd. On this
occasion, 3Iorison travelled into Burgundy, Lyonnois, Languedoc, and Brittany,
carefully investigated their consts and isles, and returned with many rare, and
some new plants, with which he enriched the garden of his patron.

On the death of the duke of Orleans, he was invited to England by Charles
II., who had known him while he was in the service of Orleans. His reputation,
however, as a botanist, now stood so high, that lie was considered as a national
acquisition, and was earnestly solicited by Fouquet to remain in France, who,
to induce him to comply, made him an offer of a handsome settlement. But love
of couniry prevailed, and he returned to England. On his arrival, Charles be-
stowed on him the title of king's physician, and appointed him royal professoi
of botany, with a salary of £200 per annum, and a free house as superintendent
of botany. He was shortly afterwards elected Fellow of the Hoyal College of
Physicians, and daily bei-ame more and more celebrated for his kno^vledge of
botany. In the situations to which he was appointed by the king, he remained
till 16G9, when he was elected, through the interest of the leading men of the
university of Oxford, botanic professor of that institution, on the Kith December
of the year above named ; and on the day following, was incorporated doctor of
physic. Here lie read his first lecture in the physic school, in September, 1670,
and then removed to the physic garden, where he lectured three times a-week
to considerable audiences.

This appointment he held, occasionally employing himself besides on his
great work, Historia Plantarum Oxoniensis, till his death, whicli took place on
the 9th November, 10 83, in consequence of an injury which he received from
the pole of a carriage, as he was crossing a street. He died on the day follow-
ing the accident, at his house in Green street, Leicester-fields, and was buried
in the church of St ftlartin's-in-the-fields, Westminster.

Morison's first publication was a work, entitled, " liortus Regius Blesensis auo
tus ; accessit Index Plantarum in Horto contentarum, nomine Scriptorum et Ob-
servationes generaliores, seu Prccludiorum pars prior, London, 1669," 12mo.
This work added greatly to his reputation, and was the means of reconnnending
him to the professorship at Oxford. His next publication was, " Plantarum Um-
belliferarum Distribulio Nova, per tabulas cognationis et affinilatis, ex libro Na-
turae observata et delecta, Oxon, 1672," fol. This was given as a specimen of
his great work, " Histoiia Plantarum Universalis Oxoniensis." It attracted the
notice of the learned throughout all Europe, and added greatly to his reputa-
tion. Encouraged by its reception, he proceeded vigorously with the work

MAJOR-GENERAL SIR THOMAS MUNRO, BART, K.C.B. 65

which it was intended to typify, and produced the first volume, under the title
already quoted, in IG80. His deatli, however, prevented its completion, and
left him tiine to finish nine only of the fifteen classes of liis own system.

MUNRO, (Major-General, Sir) Thomas, Bart, and K. C. B., a celebrated
civil and military officer in the service of tiie East India Company, was the son
of Mr Alexander Munro, an eminent merchant in Glasgow, where the subject
of tliis memoir was born on the 27th May, 1761. His mother, whose naine was
Stark, was descended of the Stai'ks of Killermont, and was sister to Dr William
Stark, the distinguished anatomist. After going through the usual routine of
juvenile education, including the established terui of attendance at the grammar
scliool, young Munro was entered a student in the university of his native city,
in the thirteenth year of his age. Here he studied mathematics under professor
Williamson, and chemistry with the celebrated Dr Irvine; and in both sciences
made a progress which excited the admiration of his teachers.

While at school, he was distinguished for a singular openness of temper, a
mild and generous disposition, with great peisonal courage and presence of
mind. Being naturally of a robust frame of body, he excelled all his school-
fellows in athletic exercises, and was partiiuilarly eminent as a boxer; but, Avitli
all that nobleness of nature which was peculiar to him, and which so much dis-
tinguished iiim in after-life, he never made an improper or unfair use of his
superior dexterity in the pugilistic art. He studiously avoided quarrels, and
never struck a blow, except under circumstances of great provocation. Neither
did he ever presume so far on the formidable talent which he possessed, as to
conduct himself Avith the slightest degree of insolence towards his companions,
although none of them could stand an instant before him in single combat.
These qualities secured him at once the respect and esteem of his youthful
contemporaries, rnd on all expeditions and occasions of warfare, procured him
the honour of being their leader and military adviser.

Having remained three years at college, he was, at the expiry of that period,
placed by his father in the counting-house of Messrs Somerville and (Gordon,
being designed for the mercantile profession. He was about this time also of-
fered a lieutenancy in a military corps, then raising by the city of Glasgow for
the public service ; but, though himself strongly disposed to accept this offer,
liis father objected to it, and, in compliance with the wish of his parent, he de-
clined it. Soon after this, his fathers affairs became embarrassed, when, finding it
impossible to establish his son in business as he had originally proposed, he began
to think of putting him in a way of pushing his fortune in India ; and with this
view, procured him the appointment of midshipman on board the East India
Company's ship, Walpole, captain Abercrombie. With this vessel, young Munro
sailed from London on the 20th February, 1779. Previously to sailing, his
father, who happened to be accidentally in London at the time, procured him a
cadetsliip, through the influence of Mr Laurence Sullivan, one of the directors
of the Company.

Mr Munro arrived at Madras, the place of his destination, on the 1 5th Janu-
ary, 1780. Here he was kindly received by the numerous persons to nhom he
brought letters of introduction ; but kindness of manner, and the hospitality
of tile table, seem to have been the extent of their patronage. He was left to
push his own way, and this, on his first landing, with but very indifferent pros-
pects for the future, and but little present encouragement. Nor were these dis-
iieartening circumstances at all ameliorated by the reception he met with from
his namesake, Sir Hector Munro, the commander-in-chief. That high func-
tionary told him, " that he would be happy to serve him, but was sorry it was
not in his power to do any thing for hinu"

CG MAJOR-GENERAL SIR THOMAS MUNRO, BART, K.C.B.

lie vv.is soon afier his arrival, however, called into a<'.livo service against the
forces of Hyder Ally, anil continued thus employed, with scarcely any inter-
mission, for the next four years, when a definitive treaty of peace was entered
into with Tippoo Sultan. During tiiis period of warfare, he was present at four
bailies, and at more tiian double that number of sieges, assaults, and stormings ;
in all of which he evinced an intrepidity, presence of mind, and military genius,
which early attracted the notice of his superiors, by whom he began to be looked
upon as an ollicer of singular promise.

In February, 178G, he was promoted to a lieutenancy; but no further cliange
took place in liis fortunes, till August, 1789, when he was appointed assistant
in the intelligence department, under captain Alexander Read, and attached to
the head-quarters of the force destined to take possession of the province of
Guntow.

During the interval between the first and last periods just named, 3Ir Tdunro
assiduously employed himself in acquiring the Hindostanee and Persian Ian-
guages, in which he ultimalely made a proficiency which has been attained by
but few Europeans. In this interval, too, occurred a correspondence witli
his parents, in wliicli are certain passages, strikingly illustrative of the gene-
rosity of his nature, and which it would be doing an injustice, both to his
memory, and to the filial piety of his brother, to pass without notice. In
one of these letters, dated Tanjore, 10th November, 1785, addressed to his
mother, he says, " Alexander and I have agreed to remit my father £100
a-year between us. If the arrears which lord JMacartney detained are paid,
I will send £200 in the course of the year 178G." W hen it is recollected
tliat Mr Munro was yet but a lieutenant, tiiis proof of his benevolence will be
fully appreciated. It must also be added, that these remittances were made at
a time, too, when he had himself scarcely a chair to sit upon. " I was three
years in India," he writes to iiis sister, " before I was master of any other
pillow than a book or a (cartridge-pouch ; my bed was a piece of canvass,
stretched on four cross sticks, whose only ornament was the great coat that I
brought from England, which, by a lucky invention, I turned into a blanket in
the cold weather, by thrusting my legs into the sleeves, and drawing the skirls
over my head."

In the situation of assistant intelligencer, he remained till October, 1790,
when, Tippoo having resumed hostilities with the English, he returned to his
military duties, by joining the 21st battalion of native infantry, which formed
part of the army under the command of colonel Maxwell. JMr IMunro remained
with the army, sharing in all its dangers and fatigues, and performing the vari-
o\is duties assigned to him with his usual diligence and activity, till the month of
April, 1792, when he was appointed to assist Captain Head in the management
of the district of Barmhaul. In this employment he continued till March, 1799,
having, in the mean time, June 1796, attained the rank of captain ; when, on a
war with Tippoo again occurring, he joined the army under lieutenant-general
Harris, and served in it with his accustomed ability and zeal, until after the siege
of Seringapatam and death of Tippoo, when he was appointed to the charge of
the civil administration of Canara. This charge was an exceedingly laborious
one, and, in almost every respect, an exceedingly unpleasant one ; but the cir-
cumstance of his appointment to it, was, nevertheless, a very marked proof cf
the high estimation in which his talents were held by the government, for it
was also a charge of great importance ; and the authorities did justice to his
merits, by believing that there was no individual in India so well qualified to
fill the situation as captain Munro. The principal duties of his new appoints
ment were, to introduce and establish the authority of the government ; to

MAJOR-GENERAL SIR THOMAS MUNRO, BART., K.C.B. 67

settle disputes amongst the natives ; to punish tlie refractory ; and to watch
over the revenues of the district: and from twelve to sixteen hours were daily
devoted to this oppressive and harassing routine of business.

Having accomplished all the purposes for which he was sent to Canara, and
having established order and tranquillity, where he had found turbulence and vio-
lence, Major Munro (for to this rank he was promoted, May 7, 1800) solicited
the government to be intrusted with the superintendence of «hat were called the
Ceded Districts : a certain extent of territory, yielded up in perpetuity to the
Company by Nizam, in lieu of a monthly subsidy which had been previously ex-
acted from him.

The request of major Munro was not complied with, without much reluctance
and hesitation, proceeding from the high value placed upon his services where
he was ; but it appearing that these would be equally desirable in the situation
which he sought, he was removed thither in October, 1800. Here he performed
similar important services, both to tlie country itself and to the Company, as iie
had done at Canara. Within a few months after his arrival, he cleared the
province of numerous bands of marauders, which had previously kept it in a state
of constant terror and alarm, and filled it with robbery and murder. He every-
where established order and regularity, and finally succeeded in converting one
of the most disorderly provinces in India, into one of the most secure and tran-
quil districts in the possession of the Company. This, however, was not accom-
plished witliout much labour, and many personal privations. He repeatedly
traversed the whole extent of territory under his jurisdiction, and for the first
four years of his residence in it, never dwelt in a house, being continually in
motion from place to place, and on these occasions making his tent his house.

During the time of his services in the Ceded Districts, Mr Munro was pro-
moted, 24th April, 1804, to the rank of lieutenant-colonel.

With that filial affection which forms so remarkable and pleasing a feature in
the character of the subject of this memoir, he had regularly increased the al-
lowance to his parents, with the advance of his own fortunes. Indeed, this
seems to have been his first care on every occasion of an accession of income.
In a letter to his father, dated Kalwapilli, 3rd May, 1801, there occurs this
passage : " I have at last heard from Messrs Harington, Burnaby and Cock-
burn, on the subject of the remittance of a bill for £1000 sterling, to clear
your house in the Stockwell. In August, I shall remit the remaining sum
due upon the house ; and also £200 sterling, in order to augment my annual
remittance to £400 sterling. As my mother is so fond of the country, and as a
garden would probably contribute to her health, she ought certainly to be under
no concern about the trifling expense a country house may occasion, in addition
to one in town. I therefore hope that you will draw on Colt for whatever it
may cost, and let me know the amount, that I may add it to tiie £400, which I
mean should go entirely to your town expenses ; and that you will likewise in-
form me what other debts you may have besides the mortgage on the house,
that 1 may discharge them, and relieve you at once from the vexation and
anxiety to which you liave so long been exposed." In a very few years after-
wards, we find him making another munificent contribution to the comfort and
happiness of his parents, by remitting them £2000 for the purchase of a coun-
try house.

Colonel Munro retained his appointment in the Ceded Districts till the year
1807, when he came to the resolution of paying a visit to his native country.
With this view, he applied for and obtained permission to resign his situation ;
and after a few days spent in preparation, embarked, in October in the year

08 MAJOR-GENERAL SIR THOMAS MUNRO, BART.. K.C.B.

above named, at 3Iadra8 for T'liglaiul, leaving behind liim, after a service of
seven and twenty yeare, a rejuilation lor talent, diligence, and exemplary con-
du»;t, both as a civil and military officer, \\lii(;li few in the same service had at-
tained, and none surpassed. In the former capai'ity, he had undertaken and
acconi|>lished more than any Brili:>ii functionary had ever done before iiim ; and
in the latter, he had dis|)layed a talent for mililary allairs, \\hi(:h all acknow-
ledged to be of the very higliest order.

After an agreeable passage of nearly six months, «;olonel 3Iunro arrived at
Deal on the 5lh April, 1808. From Deal he proceeded to London, where he
was detained by some pressing business, until the summer was far advanced. He
then set out for Scotland, but not without some melancholy forebodings of the
changes which he knew so great a lapse of time as seven antf twenty years must
have effected on the persons an<l things associated with his earliest and tenderest
recollections. These anticipations he found, on his arrival, realized. That
mother to wliom he was so tenderly attached, and whose comfort and welfare
had been a constant object of his solicitude, was no luore. She had died about
a year previous to his arrival. Two of liis brothers were dead also, and many
besides of the friends of his youth. The imbecility of age had moreover come
upon his only surviving parent, and had e/iected such a change, as to mar that
reciprocity of feeling, which their meeting, after so long a separation, would
otherwise have excited.

On his return to Glasgow, colonel Munro revisited all the haunts of his youth,
and, particularly. North Woodside, then a romantic spoi in the vicinity of the city,
where, in his early days, his father had a country residence, to which the family
resorted every sunnner. Here, with all that simple and amiable feeling,
peculiar to generous natures, he endeavoured to annihilate the space of time
which had elapsed since he had been there a boy, and to recall, with increased
force, the sensations of his youth, by bathing in the dam in which he had sported
when a boy, and by wandering through the woods where he had spent so many
of the careless hours of that happy season. This feeling he even carried so far,
as to climb once more a favourite aged tree, which liad enjoyed an especial
share of his youthful patronage and affection. Every branch was familiar to
him ; for he had a thousand times nestled amongst them, to enjoy in solitude
and quietness the pages of some favourite author.

Colonel 31unro now spent a good deal of his time in Edinburgh, where he
resumed his favourite study, chemistry, by attending the lectures of Dr Hope,
and by perusing such works on the subject as had appeared since he had left
Europe. During his residence in Britain, he took a lively interest in the Fen-
insular war, and was known to be in constant communication with the duke of
Wellington, who had become acquainted with him in the East, and who had
there learned to appreciate his eminent abilities. About this time, also, he ac-
companied Sir John Hope to the Scheldt as a volunteer, and was present at
the siege of Flushing.

The East India Company's charter now drawing to a close, and the
question of the propriety of its renewal having attracted an extraordinary share
of public attention ; a parliamentary connnittee was appointed to inquire into,
and hear evidence on the subject, to enable the house to come to a decision re-
garding it. 3Iany persons connected with India were in consequence examined
on the affairs of that country, and amongst the rest the subject of this memoir ;
and such was the clearness of his evidence, the importance of the information
which he gave, the comprehensiveness of his views, and the general talent and
judgment which characterized all his statements, that the court of directors ini-

MAJOR-GENERMi SIR THOMAS MUNRO, BART., K.C.B. 69

mediately placed him at the head of a commission of inquiry which they
decided on sending out to India, to remedy those defects and abuses which the
evidence now placed before them had brought to light.

Previous to his returning to India, colonel Munro married, 30th March,

1814, Jane Campbell, daughter of Campbell, Esq. of Craigie House,

Ayrshire, a lady remarkable for her beauty and accomplishments. This con-
nexion added greatly to colonel Munro's liappiness, and eventually opened up
to him a source of domestic felicity which his disposition and temper eminently
fitted him to enjoy.

His commission having now been duly made out, and all other preparations
for his voyage completed, he embarked, accompanied by his wife and sister-in-
law, in the month of May, 1814, at Portsmouth, and after a pleasant passage
of eighteen weeks, arrived at Madras on the IGth September.

On his arrival, colonel Munro iunuediately began to discharge the arduous
duties of his new appointment. These embraced a total revision of the
internal administration of the IVladras territories, and comprehended an amount
of labour, in going over reports and decisions, in investigating accounts, in
drawing up regulations, and in a thousand other details as numerous as they
were complicated, which would liave appalled any man of less nerve than him
on whose shoulders it had fallen. In tliis laborious employment he continued
till the month of July, 1817, when, a war with the Mahrattas having broken
out, he solicited employment in the line of his profession, and was appointed to
the command of the reserve of the army under lieutenant-general Sir Thomas
Hislop, having been himself previously, 15th June, 1815, promoted to the rank
of colonel.

In the campaign which followed the resumption of his military duties,
colonel Munro performed a brilliant part. His military reputation, formerly
amongst the highest, was now universally ackno^vledged to be unsurpassed.
Lord Hastings complimented him in strains of the warmest panegyric, as well in
his ofiicial comnmnications as in his private correspondence. Mr Canning
passed an eloquent eulogium on his merits in the house of commons. Sir John
Malcolm contributed his unqualified commendations of his masterly operations,
and the public records of Calcutta were filled with his praise. His name was
now, in short, become famous throughout Europe, and he was everywhere
looked upon not only as one of the first soldiers of the day, but as a man who
possessed talents and abilities which fitted him for attaining eminence equally
in a civil as in a military life.

In the campaign which lasted till the beginning of August, 1818, general
Munro, (he Mas promoted to this rank, December 1817,) reduced all the Peish-
wah's territories between the Toombuddra and Kistna, and from the Kistna
northward to Akloos on the Neemah, and eastward to the Nizam's frontier.
On the conclusion of the campaign, finding his health greatly impaired by
the excessive fatigue which he bad undei^one, he resolved to resign all his
conmiissions, both civil and military, and to retire into private life. In pur-
suance of this resolution, he tendered his resignations to the marquis of Hast-
ings, who received them with nmch reluctance ; and returned by way of Benga-
lore, where he met his family, to Madras. Shortly after this, October 1818,
lie was made a Companion of the Bath, as a testimony of the opinion which was
entertained at home of his merits.

General Munro now again turned his thoughts homewards, and, after
devoting two months to the arrangement of his aflairs, embarked on board the
Warren Hastings, with his family, for Enn^land, on the 24th January, 1819,
During the passage, Mrs Munro was delivered, 30th May, of a boy, who, being

MAJOR-GENERAL SIR THOMAS MUNRO, BART., K.C.B.

born when tlio ship was in the hililiidc of the Azdios, uas baptized by that
name. 'I'lio Warren Hastings liaving arrived in the Douns, general and Mrs
Miinro landed at Deal, and proceeded to London, where they remained for a
short lime, and thereafter set out for Scotland. 'I'lie for-ner, however, was only
a few weeks at home when he received a formal conmmnic^ntion from the
government, apjiointing him to the governorship of .Madras, and he was soon af-
ter, October iSli), promoted to the rank of major-general, and invested, Novem-
ber, 1819, with the insignia of K. C. 13.

Although extremely reluctant again to leave his native country. Sir Thomas
did not think it advisable to decline the acceptance of the high and honour-
able appointment now profTered him. Having ccnnmitted their boy to the
charge of lady Munro's father, Sir Thomas and his lady proceeded to Deal,
where they once more embarked for India in December, 1819, and arrived
safely at Bombay in the beginning of l\Iay in the following year. Here they
remained for about a fortnight, when they again took shipping, and on the 8th
June reached 3Iadras.

Sir Thomas, immediately on his arrival, entered on the discharge of the im-
portant duties of in's new appointment with all the zeal and diligence which
marked every part of his preceding career. These duties were extremely
laborious. From sulirise till eight in the evening, with the exception of an
hour or two at dinner, comprising a little out-door recreation after that repast,
he was unremittingly employed in attending to, and despatching the public
business of his department. With this routine the morning meal was not at all
allowed to interfere. The breakfast table was daily spread for thirty persons,
tliat all who came on business at that hour should partake of it, and that the
various matters which occasioned their lisils might be discussed during its pro-
gress without encroaching on the day.

By this rigid economy of time, Sir Thomas was enabled to get through an
amount of business which would appear wholly incredible to one who placed
less value on it than he did. He wrote almost every jiaper of any importance
connected with his government with his own hand. He read all communica-
tions and documents, and examined all plans and statements, with his own eyes,
and heard every complaint and representation which was made verbally, with
his own ears.

Although Sir Thomas had not thought it advisable to decline the governorship
of Madras, he yet came out with every intention of returning again to his
native land as soon as circumstances would permit, and in 1823, he addressed
a memorial to the court of directors, earnestly requesting to be relieved
from his charge. From a difficulty, however, in finding a successor to Sir
Thomas, and from the extraordinary efficiency of his services, the court was ex-
tremely unwilling to entertain his request, and allowed many months to elapse
without making any reply to it. In the mean time the Burmese war took
place, and Sir Thomas found that he could not, with honour or propriety, press
his suit on the directors. He therefore came to tlie resolution of remaining
at his post to abide the issue of the struggle. In this war he distinguished him-
self, as he had so often done before, hy singular bravery, talent, and intelli-
gence, and performed such important services as procured his elevation, June
1825, to the dignity of a baronet of Great Britain.

At the conclusion of the Burmese war, Sir Thomas again applied for liberty
to resign his appointment, and after much delay the Bight Honourable S.
Lushington was nominated his successor, on the 4th April, 1827.

Sir Thomas now prepared to leave India for the last time, full of fond an-
ticipations of the happiness which awaited the closing years of his life in his

SIR WILLIAM MURE. 71

native land ; but it was otlieruise ordained. His lady, with a favourite son,
had returned to England a year before, in consequence of an illness of the lat-
ter, which, it was thought, required this change of climate ; and thus while the
inducements to remain in India were greatly lessened, those to return to his
native land were increased. While awaiting the arrival of his successor. Sir
Thomas unfortunately came to the resolution of paying a farewell visit to his
old friends in the Ceded Districts, where the cholera was at that time raging
with great violence. Alarmed for iiis safety, his friends endeavoured to dis-
suade him from his intended excursion, but to no purpose. Towards the end
of May, he set out from Madras, attended by a small escort, and on the 6th of
July following, reached Putteecondah, where he was seized with the fatal dis-
temper about nine o'clock in the morning, and expired on the evening of the
same day at half past nine, in the GGth year of his age. In an hour and a half
after his death, his body was removed to Gooty, where it was interred with such
military honours as the remoteness of the situation, and the despatch which it is
necessary to observe on such occasions in India, could afford.

Few events ever occurred in India which excited so general a sensation, or
created so universal a feeling of regret, as the death of Sir Thomas Munro.
Natives as well as Europeans mourned his loss with unfeigned sorrow. His jus-
tice, humanity, benevolence, and eminent talents, had secured him the esteem
and respect of all who knew him, and he was known nearly throughout the
whole extent of the eastern world. No man perhaps, in short, ever descended
to the grave more beloved or more lamented, and none was ever more entitled
to these tributes of affection from his fellow men, or ever took such pains to
deserve them as Sir Thomas Munro.

With regard to his talents, had there been no other proof of their existence
than that which his letters aflbrd, these alone would have pointed him out as a
remarkable man ; and as one who, had he chosen it, might have become as emi-
nent in literature as he was in the profession of arms. Three volumes of these
compositions, strung upon a memoir of the writer, have been published under the
superintendence of the Rev, Mr Gleig, author of " The Subaltern."

MURE, (Sir) William, of Rowallan, a poet, was born about the year 1594.
He was the eldest son of Sir William Mure of Rowallan, by a sister of Mont-
gomery, the author of the " The Cherry and the Slae." The family was one of
the most ancient of the order of gentry in that part of the country, and through
Elizabeth Mure, the first wife of Robert II., had mingled its blood with the
royal line : it recently terminated in the mother of the late countess or
Loudoun and marchioness of Hastings. Of the poet's education no memorial
has been preserved, but it was undoubtedly the best that his country could af-
ford in that age, as, with a scholar-like enthusiasm, he had attempted a version of
the story of Dido and j^neas before his twentieth year. There is also a
specimen of Sir William's verses in pure English, dated so early as 1611, when
he could not be more than seventeen. In 1615, while still under age, and be-
fore he had succeeded to his paternal estate, he married Anna, daughter of
Dundas of Newliston, by whom he had five sons and six daughters. The eldest
son William, succeeded his father ; Alexander was killed in the Irish Rebellion,
1641 ; Robert, a major in the army, married the lady Newhall in Fife ; John
was designed of Fenuickhill ; and Patrick, probably the youngest, was created
a baronet of Nova Scotia in 1662. One of the daughters, Elizabeth, was mar-
ried to Uchter Knox of Ranfurly. Sir William Mure married, secondly, dame
Jane Hamilton, lady Duntreath ; and of this marriage there were two sons and
two daughters ; James, Hugh, Jane, and Marion.

The eai'liest of Sir William's compositions to be found in print is an

72 ALEXANDER MURRAY, D.T).

nddrers to the Itincf nt llamiUoii, on liis jironress lliroiigli tl;e ••otintry in
1617, which is emixxlicd in tlie collection entitle<l, " Tlie .Muse's WelconiP."
Su(;h pnidnctions of liis earlier years as have been jireserved are chiefly amatory
poems in ICnglish, very much in (he manner of the contemporary poets of the
neigliboiiring kingdom, and rivalling them in force and delicacy of sentiment.
Sir William seems to have afterwards addicted himself to serious poetry. In
IC2S, he pid)Iished a translation, in English Sapphics, of Boyd of Trochrig's
beautiful Latin poem, " Hecatombe Christiana ;" and in the succeeding year
produced his " Trve Crucifixe for Trve Catholickes," Mdinlturgli, 12mo. ; in-
tended as an exposure of the prime object of ]{omish idolatry. By far the
larger portion of liis writings remain in manuscript.

Like his contemporary, Drunnnond of Hawthornden, Mure seems to have de-
lighted in a quiet country life. A tnste for building and rural embellishment
is discoverable in the family of Kowallan at a period when decorations of this
nature were but little regarded in Scotland : and in these refinements Sir Wil-
liam fell nothing behind, if he did not greatly surpass the slowly advancing
spirit of his time ; besides planting and other ameliorations, he made various
additions to the family mansion, and " reformed the whole house exceed-
ingly."

At the commencement of the religious troubles, Sir William Mure, though in
several of bis poems he appears as p<iying his court to royalty, took an interest
in the popular cause ; and, in the first army raised against the king, commanded
a company in the Ayrshire regiment. He was a member of the parliament, or
rather convention of 1G43, by which the Solemn League and Covenant was
ratified with England ; and, in the beginning of the ensuing year, accompanied
(he troops which, in terms of that famous treaty, were despatched to the aid of
the parliamentary cause. After a variety of services during the spring of
1644, he was present, and wounded, in the decisive battle of Long ^larston-
moor, July 2nd. In the succeeding month, he was engaged at the storming of
Newcastle, where, for some time, in consequence of the superior officer's being
disabled, he had the command of the regiment. Whether this was the last
campaign of the poet, or whether he remained with the army till its return, af-
ter the rendition of the king, in 1647, is not known. No farther material
notice of him occurs, except that, on the revision of Roos's Psalms by the
General Assembly in 1650, a version by Mure of Eowallan is spoken of as em-
ployed by the committee for the improvement of the other. Sir William died
in 1657. Various specimens of his compositions may be found in a small
volume entitled, " Ancient Ballads and Songs, chiefly from tradition, manu-
scripts, and scarce works, with biographical and illustrative notices, including
original poetry, by Thomas Lyle : London," 1827; to which we have been in-
debted for the materials of this article.

MURRAY, Alexandeb, D. D., an eminent philologist, was born, October 22,
1775, at Dunkilterick, on the water of Palneur, in the Stewartry of Kirkcud-
bright. He was the son of a shepherd, or pastoral farm-servant, named Robert
Murray, who was in the seventieth year of his age at the time of the birth of
this distinguished member of his family. Young Murray was born in too hum-
ble circumstances, and reared in too secluded a district, to have the advantage of
early instruction at school. When he had attained his sixth year, his father pur-
chased for him a copy of the Shorter Catechism ; a work prefaced, in Scottish,
editions, by the alphabet in its various forms, and a few exercises in monosyl-
lables. The good shepherd, however, thought this little volume (ihe cost of
which is only one penny) too valuable for common use : it was accordingly
locked carefully aside, and the father taught his child the letters, by scribbling

ALEXANDER MURRAY, D.D, 73

them on the back of an old wool-card with the end of a burnt heather-steui.
When the elements of language had been thus mastered, the catechism was
brought forth, and given to tlie young student as a book of exercises in read-
ing. He then got a psalm book, which he liked intich better than the cate-
chism ; and at length a New Testament, which he liked better still ; and after-
wards he discovered an old loose bible, which he carried away piece-meal from
the place where it was deposited, and read with all the wonderment natural to a
capacious mind, on being first introduced to a kind of knowledge beyond the
limited scene in which it had originally been placed. He liked the mournful
narratives best, and greatly admired Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and the Lamentations.
In his eighth year, he had acquired so much local fame on account of his acquire-
ments in reading, that a wish was generally entertained among his friends to see
him sent to some regular school. This would have been impossible — for his
father was a very poor man — if a brother of his mother, by name William
Cochrane, had not possessed both the means and the inclination to provide the
requisite funds. He was placed, in 1784, at the school of New Gjilloway,
where, though he made a very awkward appearance at first, he soon distanced
the most of " the Bible class." He had been but six months at school, when he
was seized by an illness, which called him home ; nor did he again attend
school for the four ensuing years. During the most of this space of time, he ap-
pears to have been employed as a shepherd ; devoting all his leisure, however,
to the study of such books as fell in his way. In the winter of 1787-8, he was
so far advanced as to be able to teach the children of two neighbouring farmers.
Soon after, he began to give irregular attendance at the school of Minnigafl',
chiefly for the purpose of improving his arithmetic, as he had now formed a
wish to become a merchant's clerk. In 1790, he made his first adventure into
the region of languages, by studying French and Latin ; and sucii was his appli-
cation, that in the course of three or four months, he had learned as much as the
most of youths acquire in as many years. By extraordinary good fortune, he
obtained an old copy of the larger dictionary of Ainsworth, at the low price of
eighteen pence, and soon read the volume quite through. Every part of this
large book he studied with minute attention, observing the Greek derivations oi
the words, and occasionally adverting to the Hebrew also ; and thus, about a
year after his first acquaintance with the rudiments, he was able to read Ovid,
CcBsar, and Livy, and to commence lessons in the Iliad. All the books which
his school-fellows possessed, both in English and classical literature, were bor-
rowed by Murray, and devoured with immense rapidity and eagerness. He
had at this time no taste in reading : the boundless field of knowledge was open
to him, and he cared not which part he first surveyed, for he was determined
apparently to survey it all. He only felt a kind of wild pleasure in whatever
was grand, or romantic, or mournful. In perusing the Iliad, lie was greatly af-
fected by the fate of Hector and Sarpedon. " And no sensation," says he, in
his autobiography, "was ever more lively, than what I felt on first reading the
passage, which declares that Jupiter rained drops of blood upon the ground, in
honour of his son Sarpedon, who was to fall far from his countrj'. My prac-
tice," he continues, " was to lay down a new and difficult task, after it had
wearied me,— to take up another, — then a third, — and to resume this rotation
frequently and laboriously." Dr Murray used to consider himself fortunate in
his teacher, Simpson, in as far as the man was of a careless, easy character,
and had no scruple in permitting him to advance as fast as lie liked, and to
step into any class for nhich he appeared qualified. " Desultory study,"
says he, " is a bad thing ; but a lad whose ambition never ceases, but stimulates
him incessantly, enlarges his mind and range of thought, by excursions beyond

7'1 ALEXANDER MURRAY, D.D

the limits of regular forms." We shall let Ur Murray narrate his further pro-
gress in his own Avords : —

" In 1792, I read portions of Hoiner, Livy, Salluef, ami any otlier author
used in tlie scliool. In the winter, 17!)-2-3, I eiii;ni,'e(l myself «itli Tliomas
Birkniyre, miller, of ^liiiiiigalV mill, and lanj^lil liis children during^ tiiat season
till 31ar<h, 171)3. I\ly wages ucre only thirty hliillinps, hut my ohjeet was to
get a residence near Newton Stewart, and to have liberty of going^, in the winter
foreniglils, to a school taught by IMr Nathaniel Martin, in IJrigend of Cree.
IMartin had been at lulinbuigh, and possessed many new books, such ns the bee,
Duncan's Cicero, some of the best iMiglish collections, and so forth. From a
companion, named .lohn Mackihvraith, I got the loan of Bailie's Knglisii Dic-
tionary, Avhich I studied, and learnt from it a vast variety of useful matters. I
gained from it the Anglo-Saxon alphabet, the Anglo-Saxon paternoster, and
many words in that venerable dialect. '1 his enabled me to read Ilicke's Saxon
Grammar, without difficulty, after I went to Kdinburgh, and led the way to the
Visi-Gothic and German. About the end of autumn, 1792, I had procured,
from one Jack Roberts, a small Welsh History of Christ and the Apostles, 1
had seen a translation, or rather the original i-inglish, of tiiis book in former
years, but I could not get access to it after I had the Welsh in my possession.
I mused, however, a good deal on the quotations from Scripture that abound in
it, and got acquainted with many Welsh words and sentences. If I had a copy
of the Bible in any language of which I knew the alphabet, I could make con-
siderable progress in learning it without grammar or dictionary. This is dono
by minute observation and comparison of words, terminations, and phrases. It
is the method dictated by necessity, in the absence of all assistance.

" In 1791, I had the loan of a stray volume of the Ancient Universal History
from my neighbour school-fellows, the JMaclurgs, who lived in Glenhoash, belo'V
Risque. It contained tlie history of the ancient Gauls, Germans, Abyssinians,
and others. It included a very incorrect copy of the Abyssinian alphabet, whidi,
however, I transcribed, and kept by me for future occasions. I was completely
master of the Arabic alphabet, by help of Robertson's Hebrew Grammar, in the
end of which (first edition) it is given in the most accurate manner.

" In the autunni of 1792, about the time I went to the mill, I had, in the
hour of ignorance and ambition, believed myself capable of writing an epic
poem. For two years before, or rather I'rom the time that I had met with
Paradise Lost, sublime poetry was my favourite reading. Homer had encourag-
ed this taste, and my school-fellow, George 31ure, had lent me, in 1791, an edi-
tion of Ossian's Fingal, which is, in many passages, a sublime and pathetic per-
formance. I copied Fingal, as the book uas lent only for four days, and car-
ried the MS. about with me. I chose Arthur, general of the Britons, for my
hero, and during the winter 1792-3, wrote several thousands of blank verses about
his achievements. This was my first attempt in blank verse. In 1790, I had
purchased * The Grave,' a poem by Blair, and committed it almost entirely to
memory.

" I passed the summer of 1793 at home, and in long visits to my friends in
Newton Stewart, and other parts. During that time I destroyed Arthur and
his Britons, and began to translate, from Buchanan's poetical Avorks, his Fratres
Franciscan!. I made an attempt to obtain IMochrum school ; but Mr Steven,
minister of that parish, who received me very kindly, told me that it Avas pro-
mised, and, that my youth would be objected to by the heritors and parish.

"Some time in the same summer, I fonned an acquaintance \vith \A illiam
Hume, a young lad who intended to become an Antiburgher clergyman, and
who kept a private school in Newton Stewart. This friendship procured me

ALEXANDER MURRAY, D.D. 75

the loan of several new books. I paid a visit to the Rev. Mr Donnan, in Wig-
ton, an excellent man and scholar. He examined me on Homer, which I read
ad aperifiram libri, in a very tolerable, though not very correct manner. He
gave me Cicero de Natura Deorum, which I studied with great ardour, though a
speculative treatise. I uas enthusiastically fond of Cicero, as ray dictionary
gave me a most affecting account of the merits and fate of that great man. In
1701, 1 bought for a trifle a MS. volume of the lectures of Arnold Drackenburg,
a German professor, on the lives and writings of the Roman authors, from
Livius Andronicus to Quintilian. This was a learned work, and I resolved to
translate and publish it. I remained at home during the winter of 1793-4, and
employed myself in that task. My translation was neither elegant nor correct.
My taste was improving ; but a knowledge of elegant phraseology and correct
diction cannot be acquired without some acquaintance with the world, and with
the human character in its polished state. The most obscure and uninteresting
parts of the Spectator, World, Guardian, and Pope's Works, were those that
described life and manners. The parts of those works which I then read with
rapture, \vere accounts of tragic occurrences, of great but unfortunate men, and
poetry that addressed the passions. In spring 1794, I got a reading of Blair's
Lectures. The book was lent by Mr Strang, a Relief clergyman, to W'illiam
Hume, and sublent to me. In 1793, I had seen a volume of an encyclopedia,
but found very considerable difficulties in making out the sense of obscure scien-
tific terms, with which those books abound.

" Early in 1794, I resolved to go to Dumfries, and present my translation to
the booksellers there. As I had doubts respecting the success of a ' History of
the Latin Writers,' I likewise composed a number of poems, chiefly in the
Scottish dialect, and most of them very indifferent. I went to Dumfries in
June, 1794, and found that neither of the two booksellers there would under-
take to publish my translation ; but I got a number of subscription papers
pi'inted, in order to promote the publication of the poems. I collected by my-
self and friends four or five hundred subscriptions. At Gatehouse, a merchant
there, an old friend, gave me a very curious and large printed copy of the Pen-
tateuch, which had belonged to the celebrated Andrew Melville, and the Hebrew
Dictionary of Pagninus, a huge folio. During the visit to Dumfries, I was in-
troduced to Robert Burns, who treated me with great kindness; told me, that
if I could get out to college without publishing my poems, it would be better, as
my taste was young and not formed, and I would be ashamed of my productions
when I could write and judge better, I understood this, and resolved to make
■publication my last resource. In Dumfries I bought six or seven plays of
Shakspeare, and never read any thing except Milton, with more rapture and
enthusiasm."

The singular acquirements of this Galloway shepherd, had now made some
impression in a circle beyond his own limited and remote sphere ; and, in
November, 1794, he was invited to Edinburgh, in order to make an exhibition
of his learning before several individuals, who were not only qualified to judge
of it, but were inclined to lake an interest in the fate of its possessor. He un-
derwent an examination before Drs Baird, Finlayson, and Moodie, clergymen of
the city ; and so effectually convinced these gentlemen of his qualifications, that
they took the means to procure for him a gratuitous education in the university.
Dr Baird proved, in particular, a zealous and steady friend, not only in tiie
exertion of his influence, but by contributions to the means of his subsistence
during the earlier part of his academic career. At the end of two years, he
obtained a bursary, or exhibition, from the city, and soon after was able to sup-
port himself, by private teaching. He now commenced the necessary studies lor

7G ALEXANDER MURRAY, D.T).

tlie clnircli, at tli« sniii<; time that lie devoW^d every lutiir lie could spare to the
acquisition of general Unowledgo, In a very «liorl space of lime, lie found hiiii>
self master ot' tlie ulioie ot' tiio Murojiean languages, and bejan to make re-
searches in the more recondite dialects of the east. His ])hiiologica! studies
were conducted witii a careful rej^ard to etymology, and (lie |diiiuso|iliy of grani-
inar ; and it >vould appear tiiat the design of tracing up all existing languages
to one root, and thus penetrating back into the early and unclironicled history
of the human race, gradually expanded upon him.

\\ liile thus devoting liis leisure to one grand pursuit, he did not neglect
the graces of the belles lettres. After having for some yeni-s contributed mis-
cellaneous pieces to the Scots Magazine, he uas induced, about the beginning
of the present century, to become the editor of that respe<;table work, then the
property of 3Ir Archibald Constable. He also contributed several able articles)
to the lulinburgh Keview. Having made himself master of the Abyssinian
language, and also of the (leez and Andiaric tongues, upon which the former is
founded, he appeared to Mr Constable as a fit person to superintend a new
edition of liruce's Travels to discover the source of the Nile. For nearly three
years subsequent to September 1802, he was engaged with little intermission
upon this task, chiefly residing at Kinnaird House, where he had access to the
papers left by the illustrious traveller. To the work, which appeared in seven
large octavo volumes, he contributed a life of the author, and a mass of notes,
containing the most curious and learned discussions on philology, antiquities,
and a manifold variety of subjects illustrative of Bruce's narrative. The
" Life" he afterwards enlarged and publislied in a separate volume.

In ISOG, Dr 3Iurray for tlie first time ohtained what might be considered a
permanent station by being appointed assistant and successor to the liev. I\Ir
Muirhead, minister of Urr, in the stewartry of Kirkcudbright ; at nhose death,
in 1808, he became the full stipendiary of the parish. In this situation, he
displayed, amidst his clerical duties, his usiial api)lication to philological pur-
suits. His fame as a linguist was now spread abroad by his edition of Eruce,
and in 1811, at the suggestion of Mr Salt, envoy to Abyssinia, he was applied
to, to use IMr Sail's own words, as " the only person in the British dominions "
adequate to the task, to translate a letter written in Gieez, from the governor of
Tigro to his Britannic majesty. Notwithstanding the obscurity of several pas-
sages in this rare document, he was able to acquit himself of his task in the most
satisfactory manner.

In 1812, on a vacancy occurring in the chair of Oriental languages in the
university of Edinburgh, Dr Murray stood a contest with two other candidates,
and gained the situation by a majority of two voices in the city council. He
was now for the first time in life placed in a situation suitable to his exti'aordi-
nary faculties ; and yet it was destined that, after all his preliminary labours,
his «^areer was now on the point of being for ever closed. His constitution,
which had never been strong, broke down under the labours of the first session.
Before opening his class, he had published his " Outlines of Oriental Philology,"
a remarkably clear and intelligible epitome of the grammatical principles of the
Hebrew and its cognate dialects. During the winter, the fatigue he encoun-
tered in preparing his le<;tures was very great; and in February, 1813, a pul-
monary ailment, which had previously given him great distress, became so violent
as to prevent his attendance in the class-room. To quote the afl'ecting account
of his latter days, given by Mr Murray,' " he himself entertained hopes of liis
recovery, and was flattering himself with the prospect of being able to remove
(o the country ; but his complaints daily assumed a more alarming aspect. On
• Literary history of Gallowaj', second edition, p. 256.

PATRICK MURRAY. 77

tlie day before his death, he was out of bed for twelve hours. He arranged
several of liis papers, spoke freely, and appeared in good spirits. He alluded
to his approaching dissolution, which lie now himself began to apprehend ; but
Mrs Murx'ay was too agitated to admit of the subject being minutely adverted
to. He retired to bed at eleven o'clock ; he dozed a little ; and every moment
lie was awalie he spent in prayer. In the true spirit of genius, he said that he
had once expected to attain to old age, and that he would be enabled to per-
form something of a more eminent nature, and of greater consequence to
society, than he had yet accomplished; but not a murmur escaped his lips; he
was, at all times, perfectly resigned to the will of the Eternal. The iidlowing
verse of the hundred and eighteentii psalm he repeated, a few hours before his
death :—

O set 38 open unto me
The gates of rigiiteousness ;

Then 1 will enter into them,
And I the Loid will bless.

At the end of these lines he made a pause, and Mrs Murray having proceeded
with the subsequent verse, —

This is the gate of God ; by it

The just shall enter in ;
Thee will I praise, for thou me heard'st,

And hast my safety been, —

he looked wistfully and tenderly in her countenance, — he put his hand on his
breast, — and said it gave him relief and consolation. He now became sudden-
ly worse ; his speech failed him; and having lingered in this state for a short
time, he breathed his last in the arms of his wife. This melancholy event took
place at six o'clock in the morning of the 15th of April, 1813, in the thirty-
seventh year of his age. The last words lie was heard to utter were, * Take
clear burial-ground,' meaning no doubt, to intimate his desire that his remains
might be placed in a grave which had not been previously occupied. He \vas
interred in the Greyfriars' church-yard, at the northwest corner of the
church."

So died this amiable and most accomplished scholar, after a life which might
rather be described as the preparation for something great, than as having ac-
tually produced any great fruits. He had written a philological work of pro-
found and varied learning, which appeared in 1813, under the auspices of Dr
Scot of Corstorphine, entitled " History of European languages ; or Researches
into the Affinities of the Teutonic, Greek, Celtic, Sclavonic, and Indian Na-
tions." He left, by his wife, whom he married while engaged in his pastoral
duties at Urr, a son and a daughter, the latter of whom died of consumption
in 1821.

MURRAY, Patrick, fifth lord Elibank, a nobleman distinguished by erudi
tion and literary taste, was the eldest son of Alexander, the preceding lord, by
Elizabeth, daughter of George Stirling, surgeon in Edinburgh. He was bori>
in February, 1703. For reasons with which we are unacquainted, he studied
for the Scottish bar, at which he entered in 1723, but in the same year adopted
the military profession, and soon rose to a considerable rank in the army. He
was, in 1740, a lieutenant-colonel under lord Cathcart, in the expedition to
Carthagena, of which he wrote an account, that remains in manuscript in the
library of the Board of Trade. He had now succeeded to the family title, and
was distinguished for his wit and general ability. His miscellaneous reading
was extensive, and we have the authority of Dr Johnson, that it was improved

78 PATRICK MURRAY.

by liis own observations of the world. He lived for many years at a nurious
old lioiise, bel(>n<rin«T to llie family of North, at Catage in Canibridgcsiiiro ; and
it has been recently ascertained that he kept nj) a corresi)onden(;e with the
exiled house of Stuart. In the latter part of bis life, he appears to have chiefly
resided in lulinbiirjjh, niinn;ling with the distini;iiishcd literati of the «;ity, who
were his (-onteinporarics, and fully qualified by bis talents and knowle<lge, to
adorn even that soriety.

In 1758, be published at lulinburgb, *' Thoughts on 31oney, ( irrulation,
and I'npcr Curren(;y ;" and an " Inquiry into the Origin and Consequence of
the Public Debts" appeared afterwards. In 1705, ho issued " Queries relating
to the proposed Plan for altering Entails in Scotland," and, in 1773, a " I^et^
ter to lord Hailes on bis L'euiarks on the History of Scotland." His lordship's
political life was entirely that of an opposition lord, and, among other subjects
which attracted his indignant attention, was the servile condition of bis native
peerage. In the year 1774, b.e published a work under tiie title of " Consider-
ations on the Present State of the Peerage of Scotland," which attracted a con-
siderable degree of attention. " Never," says he " was there so humbling a
degiadation as what the Scots peers of the first rank and pretensions sufl'er, by
the present mode of their admittance to the house of lords. For the truth of
this, one needs but to appeal to their own feelings, or to the common estima-
tion of mankind. A Scots peer of the first rank is considered as an instrument
singled out, and posted in the bouse of lords by the appointment of the minister
at the time, for the end of supporting his measures, wiiatever they are or may
be ; and who, in case of failure, must expect to be turned out at the expiration
of bis term of seven years. He is supposed to be composed of such pliant
materials, that in the event of a change of administration, the next minister
makes no doubt of finding him equally obsequious, and ready to renounce his
former connexions." When Dr Johnson visited Scotland in 1773, lord Eli-
bank addressed to him a courteous letter, which is to be found in Boswell's
Tour to the Hebrides, where are also the records of various conversations in
which both men flourished. The English philosopher declared that be never
met his lordship, without going away a " wiser man." Lord Elibank in early
life married the dowager lady North and Grey, who was by birth a Dutch-
woman, and of illustrious extraction. He died, without issue, August 3,
177 8, in the seventy-sixth year of bis age.

Two younger brothers of tliis nobleman attracted considerable notice in their
lifetime. The elder, Mr Alexander Murray, was so enthusiastic a Jacobite, as
to propose leading an insurrection even after the close of all the just hopes of
the bouse of Stuart in 174(5. He was confined for more than a year subsequent
to May 1750, by order of the house of commons, for violent interference with
a Westminster election ; and, as he refused to express contrition on his knees,
according to the order of the house, he might have been confined for a much
longer period, if the prorogation of parliament bad not brought about his en-
largen;ent. James ^Murray, the fourth and youngest brother of lord Elibank,
distinguished himself as an officer in high command during the Canadian
war. Being in the next war constituted governor of Minorca, he defended that
important station in 17S1 , against a greatly disproportioned force of the French ;
and, what was more to his credit, withstood the secret ofl'er of a million
for its surrender. After a protracted siege, during which general IMurray
lost three-fourths of bis men, be was obliged by the scurvy to give up Fort St
Philip, to which be bad retired, but rather in the condition of an hospital than
a fortress. His conduct was warmly applauded by tb.e British government and
nation.

SIR ROBERT MURRAY. 79

MURRAY, (Sir) Robert, a statesman and natural philosopher, appears to
have been born about the commencement of the seventeenth century. He was
a son of Sir Robert Murray of Craigie, by a daughter of George Halket of
Pitferran. According to his intimate friend, Burnet, he served in the French
army, and having found great favour with the all-potent Richelieu, was early
promoted to a colonelcy.' When the difficulties of Cliarles I. assumed their
most alarming aspect, he returned to Scotland, and raised recruits for the royal
army. When the king was with the Scots army at Newcastle, he seems to have
attempted an escape, designed by Sir Robert. " The design," says Burnet,
" was thus laid : Mr Murray had provided a vessel by Teignmouth, and Sir
Robert Murray was to have conveyed the king thither in disguise ; and it pro-
ceeded so far, that the king put himself in the disguise, and went down the
back stairs with Sir Rol)ert Murray. But his majesty, apprehending it was
scarce possible to pass through all the guards without being discovered, and
judging it hugely indecent to be catched in such a condition, changed his reso-
lution, and went back, as Sir Robert informed the writer.'" About this period,
it is probable that he liad not received his title, and that he may be identified
with "Mr Robert Murray, quarter-master general," who, on the 0(;casion of the
town of Berwick (which was ordered to be dismantled at the treaty of the two
kingdoms) petitioning to be permitted to keep three pieces of ordnance, and the
two gates of the bridge, was " sent to Berwick with his majesty's recommenda-
tion, to take notice what may be the importance of that petition, and report the
same to the house. "^ After the fall of the royal cause, he appears to have been
reconnnended by the parliament of Scotland to the French government, and to
have obtained from Mazarine a continuation of the favours extended to him by
Richelieu. On th 23nd May, 1G50, two letters from France were read to the
parliament of Scotland, one from the young king, the other from the cjueen
regent, in answer to the letter of the parliament in favour of Sir Robert Mur-
ray ; in which " both did promise, from their respect and love to the Scots
nation, they would see their desire performed, so far as possibly the convenience
of their affairs would permit, and that he should be paid oft" his arrears."* We
afterwards find the parliament exhibiting their favour, by sending him a few
cargoes of prisoners, to serve in his ranks. Of two hundred and eighty-one
soldiers, taken at Kerbester, where the marquis of Montrose was finally defeated,
after some disposals to coal mines, &c., the remainder " are given to lord Angus
and Sir Robert Murray to recruit their French troops with."^ It is probable that
he was an officer in the Scots guards. He continued in the confidence of Charles
II., and was connected with the obscure negotiations of Montreville with the in-
dependents and presbyterians, for the purpose of procuring their assistance at as
cheap a rate as possible to the conscience of the king, or under the form of pro-
mise which might admit the easiest and safest infi-action on his part. The mo-
deration of Sir Robert in matters connected with the church, evinced in this trans-
action, may have been the reason why Clarendon termed hin» " a cunning and a
dexterous man;" and accused him of attempting, under the pretext of bringing
the king to peace with the Scots, a coalition betwixt the Roman catholics and
presbyterians, to the destruction of the church of England.

On the 21st May, 1651, while Charles was in command of the army in
Scotland, Sir Robert was appointed justice-clerk ; and, on the 6th of June, he
was chosen a lord of session, and nominated a privy councillor.'' But the sub-
version of the courts by Cromwell prevented him from sitting in judgment.
Burnet mentions that he was in great credit Avith the remains of the king's

> Burnet's Own Times, i. 59. ' Mem. of D. of Hamilton, 307. ^ Bnlf. An , iii. 337.
* Balf. All., iv. 17. * lb. 18. 35, Act. Far., vii. 616. o lb.

80 sill ROBFRT MURRAY.

army surviving in Scotland, when " lord Cileiicaini took a strange course to
break it, and to ruin him." A letter written by him to William Murray, a low
niinicn, who had risen in the court of ( harles I., I>y tlie jterfornianee of the
most despir^-ible oflices, «as pretended to have been found at Antwerp. " '1 his
ill-forged letter gave an account of a bargain Sir Robert had made wilh 31onk
for killing the king, which was to be executed by IMr 31urray : so he
prayed him in his letter to make haste and despatch it. '1 his was brougiit to
the earl of Cilencairn : so Sir Uobert was severely questioned upon it, and put
in arrest : and it was spread about through a rude army that he intended to
kill the liing, hoping, it seems, that some of tiiese wild people, believing it,
would have fallen upon him, without using any forms. Upon tiiis occ^ision, Sir
Robert practised, in a very eminent manner, his true Christian philosophy,
without showing so much as a cloud in his whole behaviour."'

At the discussion at Wiiitehall, on the question of the future established reli-
gion in Scotland, Sir Robert Murray, along with Hamilton and Lauderdale,
proposed to delay the establishment of episcopacy, until the temper of the per)ple
should be ascertained.* In the attempt, by means of ballot, to disqualify those
who had been favourable to the government of Cronnvell from serving under
Charles, Sir Robert was one of those whose downfall, along with that of Lauder-
dale, was particularly aimed at." This association with Lauderdale seems not
to have been called for by the previous conduct, the party opinions, or the
moral character of Sir Robert. Afterwards Lauderdale's aversion to so moderate
and honest a man, disturbed his councils, and was partly productive of his down-
fall. He joined the rising administration of Tweeddale ; and, having at the Re-
storation been re-appointed a lord of session, was promoted to be justice-clerk.
" The people were pleased and gratified," says Laing, " when a judicial office,
so important and dangerous, was conferred on the most upright and accom-
plished character which the nation produced."'" But Sir Robert was made jus-
tice-clerk, not to be a judge, but that the salary might induce him to be a par-
tizan. He never sat on the bench, and was probably quite ignorant of law.
Meanwhile, in 16G2, took place the most important event in his life, and one
of the most interesting transactions of the period. He was one of the leaders of
that body of naturalists and philosophers, who, with the assistance of lord
Brounker and Robert Boyle, procured tor the Royal Society the sanction of a
charter. The society had existed as a small debating club previous to the re-
public, at the establishment of which, the members separated. At the Restora-
tion, they re-established themselves, and conducted their meetings and opera-
tions on a rather more extensive scale. On the 2Sth November, 16G0, we find
Sir Robert present at, probably, the first meeting, where it was proposed " that
some course might be thought of to improve this meeting to a more regular way
of debating things ; and that, according to the manner in other countries,
where there were voluntary associations of men into academies for the advance-
ment of various parts of learning, they might do something answerable here foi
the promoting of experimental philosophy."" Sir Robert undertook to com-
municate the views of the society to the court, and at next meeting returned an
answer, indicative of encouragement from that quarter.'^ After rules for hold-
ing meetings, and for the appointment of office-bearers, were established, Sir
Robert was successively chosen president during the first and second month of
the existence of the society.'^ He was a member of almost all committees and
councils, delivered several papers, prepared and exhibited experiments, and

7 Own Times, i. 103. a ib. 132 9 lb. 15Q »" Hist. ii. 47.

" Kirch. Hist. R. Soc., i. 3. '2 Ib. 4. 13 lb. 21.

WILLIAM MURRAY. 81

gave information in natural history, chiefly relating to the geology of Scotland.
The charter was obtained on 15lh July, 1662.

This useful and higli-niiiided man died suddenly in June, 1673. Burnett
says of this event : " He uas the wisest and worliiiest man of the age, rind was
as another father to me. I was sensible how mucli I lost on so critical a con-
juncture, being bereft of the truest and faithfuilest friend I had ever known : and
so I saw I was in danger of committing great errors for want of so kind a moni-
tor."'* But the same partial hand, on all occasions graphic and rich in de-
scription, has elsewhere excelled its usual power, in drawing the character of Sir
Robert Murray. " He was the most universally beloved and esteemed by men
of all sides and sorts of any man I have ever known in my whole life. He was
a pious man, and, in the midst of armies and courts, he spent many hours a-
day in devotion, which was in a most elevating strain. He had gone through
the easy parts of mathematics, and knew the history of nature beyond any man
I ever yet knew. He had a genius much like Peiriski, as he is described by
(jassandi. He was afterwards the first former of the Royal Society, and its first
president; and while he lived, he was the life and soul of that body. He had
an equality of temper in him, which nothing could alter : and was in practice
the only stoic I ever knew. He had a great tincture of one of their principles:
for he was much for absolute decrees. He had a most diffused love to all man-
kind, and delighted in every occasion of doing good, which he managed with
great discretion and zeal. He had a superiority of genius and comprehension
to most men ; and had tiie plainest, but, withal, the softest way of reproving,
chiefly young people, for their faults, that I ever knew of.'"^

MURRAY, William, earl of Mansfield, and lord chief justice of the King's
Bench, the fourth son of Andrew, viscount Storniont, was born at Perth on tiie
2nd March, 1704.' In 1719, he was adnntted a king's scholar at Westmin-
ster. On the 18th June, 1723, he entered Christ church, Oxford, having been
first in the list of those promoted to the university. In 1730, he visited the
continent, after having graduated as master of arts; and, on liis return, was
called to the bar at Michaelmas term 1731. As a schoolboy and student, he
gained prizes, and is said to have shown promise of literary distinction ; while,
even after having joined his profession, he did not appear to direct his powers
to the acquisition of legal knowledge. The ofiice of a special pleader frequent-
ly damps the energy of talents formed to cast honour on the bar or the bench ;
and Murray, along with many who have, and many who have not, been able to
overcome the rigid barrier to the pursuit in which their talents made them
capable of shining, was generally esteemed more fitted for a scholar than a law-
yer. It is probable that the success of his first attempts showed him how suc-
cessfully he might employ his energies in this direction. He was early engaged
in a few important appeals, his appearance in which brought so speedy an ac-
cumulation of business, that it is said to have been remarked by himself, that
he never knew the difference between absolute want of employment, and a pro-
fessional income of £3000 a-year. He soon threw the whole po^vers of his
mind into the most minute acquirements necessary to procure eminence as a
speaker, and is kno^vn to have been caught practising gesture before a mirror,
with his friend Pope at his side acting as teacher of elocution. The intimacy
with the illustrious poet probably commenced in similarity of pursuits (for Mur-
ray wrote poetry in his youth, which has fallen into probably merited oblivion),
and was fostered by the absence of rivalry in after life. Pope condescended
to turn his verses into compliments on his forensic friend, and the latter must
" OwTi Times, i 256. " ibid 59.

' Hollidaj's L'fe of Mansfield, p. 1. Koscoe's Lives of British Law3ers, 171.

82 WILLIAM MURRAY.

have Jelt what the Roman hns so well described, " pulclirum est laudari a

laudato." It \vowltl be dillicult to conceive a c;reater incentive to the rising am-
bition of an aspiring mind than these concluding lines :

" Graced as Uiou art with all liie power of words,
So known, so honoured, in tlic house of lords —
(Conspicuous scene ! another ^et is nigii,
]More silent far, where kings and poets lie;
Where IMurraj (lung enough his country 's jiride)
Sliall be no more tlian Tully or than H)de!"

Like lord Eldon, he made tlie first exliibition of his full power in commanding
a jury, from tlie accidental illness of his senior counsel ; a circumstance xvhicli
happened in the action for criminal conversation brought by Theophilus (Jibber
against 3Ir Sloper. He requested a postponement for an hour, and never being
void of self-possession except when personally attacked, he omitted nothing
which his opportunities enabled him to accomplish, and made an impressive
charge, which produced a decided eU'ect in favour of his client. He was soon
after employed in a professional service which may be said to have been in de-
fence of his native country. When, after the murder of Porteous, the lords p.as-
sed and sent do^vn to the commons a bill for disqualifying and imprisoning the
provost of Edinburgh, abolishing the city guard, and taking away the gates of
the Netherbow port, he, assisted by Barnard, Shippen, Ogelthorpe, and most
of the Scots members, pertinaciously resisted the insulting measure through a
stormy conference, and was partly the means of lopping away the portion most
offensive to the public ; and the bill as returned and passed by the lords, merely
disqualified the provost, and imposed a fine of £2000 on the city, for the bene-
fit of the widow of Porteous. IMurray's ser\ices on this occasion were re-
warded by tiie freedom of the city of Edinburgh, which was presented to him in
a gold box."

In 1743, the attention of a ministry, not supported by extensive political
talent, and obliged to combat with strong adversaries, was directed towards the
commanding powers of 3Ir 3Iurray. He was chosen solicitor-general, and
being thus initiated as a responsible legislator, was one of the few lawyers
whose genius proved as great in the senate as it had been at the bar. In 1742,
he took his seat in the house as member for Boroughbridge. In 174G, he was
ex officio one of the counsel against the rebel lords. It is said that he per-
formed an unwelcome duty. He certainly exhibited a disposition to act as a
high-minded public prosecutor ought always to do, by showing that he was
rather the instrument through which the law acted in doing justice, than a per-
son employed to procure the punishment of a fellow citizen. " Every gentle-
man," he observed, choosing the collective term as the least invidious mode of
expressing his own feelings, " who has spoken in this trial, has made it a rule to
himself to urge notliing against the prisoner but plain facts and positive evidence
without aggravation." Whether he acted from principle, or a secret leaning
towards the cause he ostensibly opposed, is not likely to be ever known ; but
those who brought the accusation against him should have founded it on differ-
ent evidence from the circumstance, that, as crown counsel, he was unwilling to
stretch the law against tiie accused. The humbled lord Lovat, the person on
whose trial he made the above remark, in a fit of liberality or national feeling,
made the following observations on the solicitor in his defence. " I am very
sorry I gave your lordships so much trouble on my trial, and I give you a mil-

» Coxe's Walpole, i. 495.

"WILLIAM MURRAY. 83

lion of thnnks for being so good in your patience and attention while it lasted.
I thought myself very mucii loaded by one Mr Murray, who, your lordships
know, was the bitterest enemy there was against me. I have since suffered by
another 3Ir Murray, who, I must say with pleasure, is an honour to his country,
and whose eloquence and learning are much beyond what is to be expressed by
an ignorant man like me. I heai'd him with pleasure, though it was against
me. I have the honour to be his relation, though perhaps he neither knows it
nor values it. I wish that his being born in the north may not hinder him
from the preferment that his merit and learning deserve. Till that gentle-
man spoke, your lordehips were inclined to grant my earnest request, and to
allow me farther time to bring up my witnesses to prove my innocence ; but it
seems that has been overruled." ^ But one who was present, and who has
dipped his pen in gall, has given a less pleasing account than that generally
believed, of his conduct at these trials. Horace Walpole says, in a letter to
Horace Man, " While the lords were withdrawn, the solicitor-general Mur-
ray, (brother of the Pretender's minister) officiously and insolently went up to
lord Balmerino, and asked him, how he could give the lords so much trouble,
when his solicitor had informed him that his plea would be of no use to him ?
Balmerino asked the bystanders who this person was? and being told, he said,
'Oh Mr Murray! I am extremely glad to see you: I have been with several
of your relations : the good lady, your mother, was of great use to us at
Perth ;' are not you charmed with this speech : how just it was!" But Mur-
ray did not escape charges of disaffection more apparently serious. A dinner
had been given by the dean of Durham on occasion of the king's birthday,
when a conversation was commenced by an individual of the name of Fawcett,
an old class-fellow of Murray, as to the probable preferment of -Johnson, a mutual
friend, then bishop of Gloucester. On this occasion Fawcett observed, that " he
was glad Johnson was so well off, for he remembered him a Jacobite several
years ago, and tiiat he used to be w itii a relation of his who was very disaffected,
one Vernon Mercer, where the Pretender's health was frequently drunk. On
a ministerial inquiry, the charge of drinking the Pretender's health was trans-
ferred to Murray, and the matter became the subject of an accusation before the
cabinet council. Murray was the intimate friend and companion of Vernon's
eldest son, and had so established himself as a virtual brother to the young man,
that the father, on his son's deatii, left to Murray a considerable fortune.* This
man was a Jacobite. The university of Oxford was at tliat period a nest of
traitors; and, taking into view Murray's family connexions, his youth, his ar-
dour, and the circumstance that he must have been aware that almost every
noble family in Britain then conducted a correspondence with the exiled
Stuarts, no man was more likely to have drunk the Pretender's health in a
moment of conviviality. However, he denied the charge, stating his loyalty to-
wards tlie existing government, which, by the time he was made solicitor-general,
was probably sincere. Inquiry was stifled, and nothing Avas proved to the pub-
lic on either side. But the accusation was never entirely dropped by his op-
ponents ; every one knows the use made of it by Junius. Pitt would use it to
poison the sharpest darts of his eloquence, and on such occasions Murray is said
to have felt, but never to have dared to answer, Pitt had been detailing some
symptoms of Jacobitism which he had seen at Oxford. Horace Walpole says on this
occasion,* " colours, much less words, could not paint the confusion and agitation
that worked in Murray's face during this almost apostrophe. His countenance
spoke everything that Fawcett had been terrified to prevaricate away." On

' Stfite Tri.il, xvi. 877. * Holliday, 51.

* Memoir of tlie last ten years of George II., i. 358.

84 WILLIAM MURRAY.

anoMier occnsion, the scene is thug toM : " After Murray had suffered for 6omo
time, I'itt stojtped, tlirew liis eyes Jiroiiud, tlien nxiiig tlieir Avhoic power on
3Iurray, said, ' 1 must now address a few xvords to Mr Soiiintor : they shall be
few, but liicy shall be dagj^fMs.' I\Iurray «as agitated : tlie look was con-
tinued ; tile agitation increased. * Judge l''estiis treiuMos,' exclaimed I'itt,
' lie shall hear me some other day.' lie sat down, Murray made no reply,
and a languid <lebate is said to liave sliown the paralysis of the house."'' It
may be well here to give the picture wliicli Walpole has ftirnishefl us of ."Mur-
ray and his two great rivals in oratory, I'itt and Fox. The picture is heauiiful,
and though too glaringly coloured, must be to a certain extent founded on
truth. " 3Iurray, who at the beginning of the session was a\ved by I'itt, find-
ing himself supported by Fox, surmounted his fears, and convinced the house,
and Pitt too, of his superior abilities. He grew most uneasy to the latter. I'itt
could only attack, 3Iurray only defend. Fox, the boldest and ablest cliampion,
was still more formed to worry, but the keenness of his sabre was blunted by the
difficulty with which he dre^v it from the scabbard : I mean the hesitation and
ungracefulness of his delivery took ofl' from the force of his arguments. 3Iur-
ray, tlie brightest genius of the three, had too much, and too little of the law-
yer ; he refined too nmcli, and could wrangle too little, for a popular assembly.
Pitt's figure was commanding; Murray's engaging from a decent openness;
Fox's dark and troubled ; yet the latter was the only agreeable man. Pitt could
not unbend; IMurray in private was inelegant : Fox was cheerful, social, com-
municative. In conversation, none of them had \vit : ^lurray never had: Fox
had in his speeches, from clearncES of head and asperity of argument. Pitt's
wit was genuine, not tortured into the service, like the quaintnesses of my lord
Chesterfield."'' On the accession of the duke of Newtuastle's ministry in 1751,
Mr 3Iurray was advanced to the office of attorney-general, in place of Sir
Dudly Kyder, made chief justice of the court of King's Bench. It was at that
period whispered, that the highest honours to which a British statesman can be
presumed to aspire, were almost uithin the grasp of 31urray, but that he
declined a contest for any distinction which was not professional. His
character presents a strange mixture of eager, unremitting ambition, with an un-
willingness to grasp the highest objects within his reach, probably from a mental
misgiving as to his ability to perfoi-m the part of leader. In pursuance of this
feeling, on the death of Sir Dudly Kyder, in 1750, he followed him as chief
justice of the King's Bench, the post to which he always looked as the most
desirable, and which he preferred to the labours and responsibilities of tiie
chancellorship or premieisiiip. He probably had no wish to remain longer a
member of such a government as Newcastle's ; but that weak head of a cabinet
liad sufficient wisdom to calculate the loss of such a man as Murray, and
extravagant ofl'ers are said to have been made to induce him to remain for some
time a working partizan of the ministry. In his promotion, however, he does
not seem to have wished to relinquish the honours of administration, while he
eschewed the responsibility. Contrary to custom, but not to precedent, he re-
mained a member of the cabinet, and changed his sphere of action for the
house of lords, with the title of baron 3Iansfield of 3Iansfield. in the county of
Nottingham. On his taking leave of the society of Lincoln's Inn, he received
the usual congratulatory address, which was presented by the honourable C.
York, son to Icrd Hardwicke.

Let us now exist a glance at lord Mansfield's character, and services to the
public, as a judge. It is in this capacity that we will find the only practical

8 Butler's Remains. Roscoe, 181. ? Walpok's Memoirs, i. 490-

WILLIAM MURRAY. 85

memorial which he has left for posterity ; but it is such a memorial as few, if
any other judges, have left. The declaration of what the law is, is generally
thought sufficient duty for a judge, and he is praised if he does it well, — the
evils which his train of decisions may have produced to posterity, wlien their
principle was applied to other cases, are not to be attributed to him ; he was not
prophetic, and could not foresee such events. But lord Mansfield, in more than
one branch of law, framed his decisions for the advantage of posterity ; and of the
law of marine insurance, Avhich is now a vast system both in England and Scot-
land, he may be said to have been the framer. On this subject, the opinion of
one of the most ample writers on the English law of marine insurance, will best
explain what lord Mansfield accomplished. " Before the time of this venerable
judge, the legal proceedings, even on contracts of insurance, were subject to
great vexations and oppressions. If the underwriters refused payment, it was
usual for the insured to bring a separate action against each of the underwriters
on the policy, and to proceed to trial on all. The multiplicity of trials was
oppressive both to the insurers and insured; and the insurers, if they had any
real point to try, were put to an enormous expense before they could obtain any
decision of the question which they wisiied to agitate. Some underwriters, who
thought they had a sound defence, and who were desirous of avoiding unneces-
sary cost or delay to themselves or the insured, applied to the court of King's
Bench, to stay the proceedings in all the actions but one, undertaking to pay
the amount of their subscriptions with costs, if the plaintiff" should succeed in the
cause which was tried ; and offering to admit, on their part, everything which
might bring the true merits of the case before the court and jury. Reason-
able as this offer was, the plaintiff', either from perverseness of disposition, or
the illiberality or cunning of his advisers, refused his consent to the application.
The court did not think themselves warranted to make such a rule without his
consent; but Mr Justice Denison intimated, that if the plaintiff^ persisted, against
his own interest, on his right to try all the causes, the court had the power of
granting imparlances in all but one, till there was an opportunity of granting
that one action. Lord Mansfield then stated the great advantages resulting to
each party, by consenting to the application which was made ; and added, that,
if the plaintiff^ consented to such a rule, the defendant should undertake not to
file any bill in equity for delay, nor to bring a writ of error, and should produce
all books and papers that were material to the point in issue. This rule was
afterwards consented to by the plaintiff^ and was found so beneficial to all par-
ties, that it is now grown into general use, and is called the consolidation rule.
Thus, on the one hand, defendants may have questions of real importance tried
at a small expense ; and plaintiffs are not delayed in their suits by those arts
which have too frequently been resorted to, in order to evade the payment of a
just demand.^ Such is one out of the several judicial measures by which lord
Mansfield erected this great system. But it is said that he made the changes in
the law, by changing himself from the administrator of the law into the legisla-
tor ; that he did not adhere to the letter of the law, but gave it an equitable
interpretation, virtually altering it himself, in place of leaving to the legislature
the correction of bad laws, a system which, whatever good use he might himself
have made of it, was not to be intrusted to a chief justice, and never was so bv
the law of England. The charge is not without found.ition. Junius says to
him, in his celebrated letter of 14th November, 1770, " No learned man ever
among your own tribe, thinks you qualified to preside in a court of coininon
law. Yet it is confessed that, under Justinian, you might have made au incom-
parable pretor." The Roman law was, in all its branches, the excess of equity
8 Park on Insurance. Introduction, 12.

86 ^VILLIAM MURRAY.

even wlien compared to tlie equity court of England; but the pretorian
branch was the equity of the Roman law. It is provable that the institute was
at all times a more pleasing study to the elegant mind of lord ."Mansfield, llun
the rigid conunon and statute law of England, lie frequently ni.nle reference
to it, and may have been induced to study it, in capacitating himself for plead-
ing Scotch appeals; yet he is understood to have been the author of the chapter
in Hlackstone's Cimnuentary, which answers the arguments of lord Kames in
favour of the extension of equity in England. His opinions on the rights o
jury trials in cases of libel, liavc met with still more extensive censure. He
maintained " that the printing and sense of the paper were alone what the jury
had to consider of." The intent with which this was done, (as it is singularly
termed tiie law,) he retained for the consideration of the court. In the cases of
Almon and of Woodfall, he so instructed the jury. In the latter case, the verdict
was " guilty of printing and publishing only." There was no charge, except
for printing and publishing, in the information, the intent being for the con-
sideration of the court. On the motion for arrest of judgment, it is clear from
lord 31ansfield's opinion, that, had the verdict been " guilty <if printing and
publishing," he would have given judgment on the opinion (»f the court as to
intent; but the word " only" was a subject of doubt, and a new trial was ruled.'
The verdict, in this case, was " not guilty." Lord Mansfield could not prevent
s'lch a verdict, without unconstitutional coercion ; but he acconnnodated it to his
principles, by presuming that the meaning of such a verdict was a denial as to
the fad of printing and publishing, and that the juror who gave it, in considera-
tion of the intent, perjured himself. Yet Junius accomplished a signal triumph
over him, in making him virtually contradict his favourite principle, in a theory
too nice for practice, when he said, tiiat " if, after all, they would take upon theni-
salves to determine the law, tliey miyJit do it ; but they must be very sure that
they determined according to law : for they touched their consciences, and they
acted at tlieir peril." A declaratory act, introduced by Fox, has since put a
stop to the powers of a judge, to infringe in a similar manner the rights of
juries.'" In only two instances has lord Mansfield been accused of wilfully
perverting his judicial authority. In the Douglas cause, it must be admitted
that his address to the house was more like the sjieech of an advocate, than of a
judge. It is believed to have swayed the house, although the decision was not,
as in the general case, unanimous in favour of the side taken by the law officer
who gives his opinion. Mr Stuart, the agent for the losing party, wrote letters
to lord iMansfield, solemnly charging him with improper conduct as a judge.
Of these very beautiful specimens of composition, it is scarcely possible to judge
of the merit, without a knowledge of the elaborate cause with which they are
connected ; but the reasoning is clear and accurate, and the calm solenniity of
the charges, with the want of that personal asperity, or dependence on satirical
or declamatory powers, which appear in Junius, nmst have made these letters
keenly felt, even by a judge conscious of rectitude. The other charge was
brought against him by Junius, for admitting to bail a thief caught in the man-
ner, or with the stolen property, contrary to law. The thief was a man o/
large property, his theft trifling, and, probably, the consequence of a species
of mental disease of not unfrequent occurrence. The reason of granting bail
was, we believe, to enable him to dispose of his property to his family; and the
act probably one of those in which the lord chief justice stretched the law, to
what he conceived a useful purpose.

A brief narrative of his political proceedings, w hile on the bench, will suffice,
as their merits are matter of history. He attended the meetings of the council
» Srate Trials, xx. 919—21. i° 32 Geo III., c. CO.

ROBERT MYLNE, 87

from 1760 to 17G3, when he declined attending, from not agreeing with tho
measures of the duke of Bedford. In 17G5, he returned, hut again retired
within the same year, on the formation of the Rockingham administration. On
the dismissal of Blr Pitt, the seals of the chancellorship of the exchequer, from
which IMr Legge had retired, were pro tempore placed in his hands. When
lord Waldegrave was directed to form a new administration, he was employed to
negotiate with the duke of Newcastle, and his opponent, Pitt; but the conclusion
of the treaty was intrusted to the earl of Hardwicke. On the resignation of lord
Hardwicke, several attempts were made to prevail on Mansfield to succeed him
as chancellor ; but the timidity before explained, or some principle not easily
defined, induced him to decline the preferment. He strongly resisted an at-
tempt to amend the application of Habeas Corpus, to cases not criminal,
suggested from the circumstance of a gentleman having remained for a consider-
able period in prison, on a commitment for contempt of court. On this occa-
sion, " he spoke," says Horace Walpole, " for two hours and a half: his voice
and manner, composed of harmonious solemnity, were the least graces of his
speech. I am not averse to own that I never heard so much sense and so much
oratory united." This was an occasion of which Junius made ample use. The
amendment was rejected, and a similar legislative measure was not passed until
1816. Lord Mansfield was not less eloquent in supporting the right of Britain
to tax America, without representation ; he maintained tlie plea, that there
was virtual, though not nominal, representation, and urged decisive measures.
" You may abdicate," he said, " your right over the colonies. Take care, my
lords, how you do so ; for such an act will be irrevocable. Proceed then, my
lords, with spirit and firmness ; and when you have established your authority,
it will then be time to show your lenity." But if his views in civil politics
were narrow and bigoted, he was liberal in religious matters ; and both as a
judge and a legislator, aflxirded toleration to all classes of dissenters, from
Roman catholics to methodists. He was indeed a greater enemy to liberal in-
stitutions, than to liberal acts. He could bear to see the people enjoying privileges,
provided tliey flowed from himself; but he did not wish them to be the cus-
todiers of their own freedom. In spiritual matters, the authority did not spring
from the chief justice. When he left Pitt behind him in the commons, he found
one to act his part in the house of lords. Lord Camden was his unceasing
opponent; and Mansfield was often obliged to meet his attacks with silence.
He sufl^ered severely in the riots of 1780 ; his house, with considerable other
property, being destroyed ; while he sufiered the far more lamentable loss of all
his books and manuscripts. In pursuance of a vote of the house of conunor.s,
the treasury made an application for the particulars and amount of his loss, for
the purpose of arranging a compensation ; but he declined making any claim.
In 1788, he retired from his judicial office, when the usual address from the
bar was presented to him by his countryman, Mr Erskine, and in July, 1792,
he was raised to the dignity of earl of Mansfield, with remainder to his
nephew, David viscount Stormont, whose grandson now enjoys the title. He died
on the 20th March, 1793, in the eighty-ninth year of his age.

MYLNE, Robert, a distinguished architect, was born in Edinburgh, January
4, 1734. He was the son of Thomas Mylne, a magistrate of the city, and an
architect, whose predecessors for several generations had been master-masons to
the king, and one of whom built the additions to Holyrood house in the reign
of Charles II., and is interred in the neighbourhood of that palace, with a high-
ly panegyrical epitaph. After receiving a general education in Edinburgh, the
subject of this article travelled on the continent for improvement in his here-
ditary science. At Rome, where he resided five years, he gained in 1758, the

88 JOHN NAPIER.

first jiiize of the nt-adeiny of St Luke in the first class of ardiitecture. and waa
unaiiiiuously elected a ineitiber of lli.it body. In llie course of iiis travels, ho
was able, by the niiniiteiiess of iiis rosearcii, to discover nia.'iy points in ancient
nrchiteclure «iii«:h no one ever before or ever after renir>rUed, and to illustrate
by this means some obscure passn<^es in Vilruviiis. On returning to i>onilon, a
frien<llcss adventurer, the superiority of a plan which he presenle<l, amon^' ilioso
of twenty other canditlales, tor the contenipialed JUacktViars'' bridge, gained liini
the employment of superintending that great public work, which was commenced
in 17()1. This plan and the duty of superintendence were rewarded, according
to agreement, by a salary of £300 a-year, and five per cent, upon all the
money expended. So well had he <;alcuiated the cost, that the bridge was coni-
pleted (17(35) for the exact sum specified in the estimate, JLl53,000. As a
specimen of bridge architecture, on a large scale, it was long held in the very
highest rank ; and a learned writer has even pronounced it tiie most perfect in
existence. The mode of centering employed by IMr IMylne, has, in particular,
been the theme of much praise.

This eminent architect was afterwards appointed surveyor of St Paul's
cathedral ; and he it was who suggeste<l the inscription in that building to the
memory of Wren — " Si monumentum quseris, circuraspice," an idea so felicitous,
that it may safely be described as more generally known, and committed to
more memories, tlian almost any similar thing in existence. Among the buildings
erected or altered by him, may be mentioned — Rochester cathedral, Greenwich
hospital, (of which he was clerk of the works for fifteen years,) King's Weston,
Ardincaplc house, and Inverary Castle. He was a man of extensive knowledge
in his profession, both in regard to its theory and practice. Alter a long career
of distinguished employment, ho died, May 5, 1811, in his seventy-eighth year,
at the New River Head, London, where he had long resided as engineer to that
company, and was interred in Westminster Abbey, near the tomb of Sir Chris-
topher Wren. By his wife. Miss Mary Home, whom he married in 1770, he had
nine children, five of whom survived him.

IT

NAPIER, John, of Merchiston, near Edinburgh, the celebrated inventor of
the logarithms, was born in the year 1550. He was descended from an ancient
race of land proprietors in Stirlingshire and Dumbartonshire. His father. Sir
Alexander Napier of Edinbellie, in the former county, and Merchiston, in the
county of Edinburgh, was master of the mint to James VI., and was only sixteen
years of age when the subject of this memoir was born. The mother of the
inventor of the logarithms was Janet, only daugliter of Sir Francis Bothwell, a
lord of session, and sister of Adam, bishop of Orkney. There is a prevalent
notion thac the inventor of the logarithms was a nobleman: this has arisen from
his styling himself, in one of his title pages, Baro Merchistonii ; in reality,
this implied baron in the sense of a superior of a barony, or what in England
would be called lord of a manor. Napier was simply laird of Merchiston —
a class who in Scotland sat in parliament under the denomination of the lesser
barons.

Napier was educated at St Salvator's college, in the university of St Andrews
which he entered in 15ti2. He afterwards travelled on the continent, proba-
bly to improve himself by intercourse with learned and scientific men. Nothing

JOHN NAPIER. 89

farther is ascertained respecting him, till after he had reached the fortieth year
of his age. He is then found settled at the family seats of Merchiston near
Edinburgh, and Gartness, in Stirlingshire, Mhere he seems to have practised the
life of a recluse student, Avithout the least desire to mingle actively in political
affairs. That his mind was alive, however, to the civil and religious interests of
his country, is proved by his publishing, in 1593, an exposition of the Revela-
tions, in the dedication of which to the king, he urged his majesty, in very
plain language, to attend better than he did to the enforcement of the laws,
and the pi'otection of religion, beginning reformation in his own " house,
family, and court." From this it appears that Napier belonged to the strict
order of presbyterians in Scotland ; for such are exactly the sentiments chiefly
found prevalent among that class of men at this period of our history.

In the scantiness of authenticated materials for the biography of Napier, some
traditionary traits become interesting. It is said that, in his more secluded
residence at Gartness, he had both a waterfall and a mill in his immediate
neighbourhood, which considerably interrupted his studies. He was, however,
a great deal more tolerant of the waterfall than of the mill ; for while the one
produced an incessant and equable sound, the other was attended with an irre-
gular clack-clack, which marred the processes of his mind, and sometimes even
rendered it necessary for him, when engaged in an unusually abstruse calcula-
tion, to desire the miller to stop work. He often walked abroad in the even-
ing, in a long mantle, and attended by a large dog ; and these circumstances,
working upon minds totally unable to appreciate the real nature of his
researches, raised a popular rumour of his being addicted to the black art. It
is certain that, no more than other great men of his age, was he exempt from
a belief in several sciences now fully proved to have been full of imposture.
The practice of fonuing theories only from facts, however reasonable and un-
avoidable it may appear, was enforced only for the first time by a contempo-
rary of Napier — the celebrated Bacon ; and, as yet, the bounds between true
and false knowledge were hardly known. Napier, therefore, practised an art
which seems nearly akin to divination, as is proved by a contract entered into,
in 1594, between him and Logan of Fastcastle — afterwards so celebrated for
his supposed concern in the Gowry conspiracy. This document states it to have
been agreed upon, that, as there were old reports and appearances that a sum of
money was hid within Logan's house of Fastcastle, John Napier should do his
utmost diligence to search and seek out, and by all craft and ingine [a phrase
for mental power] to find out the same, or make it sure that no such thing has
been there. For his reward he was to have the exact third of all that was
found, and to be safely guarded by Logan back to Edinburgh ; and in case he
should find nothing, after all trial and diligence taken, he was content to refer
the satisfaction of his travels and pains to the discretion of Logan. What was
the result of the attempt, or if the attempt itself was ever made, has not been
ascertained.

Besides dabbling in sciences which had no foundation in nature, Napier ad-
dicted himself to certain speculations which have always been considered as
just hovering between the possible and the impossible, a number of which he
disclosed, in 159G, to Anthony Bacon, the brother of the more celebrated
philosopher of that name. One of these schemes was for a burning mirror,
sim.ilar to that of Archimedes, for setting fire to ships ; another was for a mir-
ror to produce the same effects by a material fire ; a third for an engine which
should send forth such quantities of shot in all directions as to clear everything
in its neighbourhood ; and so forth. In fact, Napier's seems to have been one
of those active and excursive minds, which are sometimes found to spend a

IV, M

00 JOHN NAPIEH.

whole life in projects and speculations without producinj* a sinjrTe article of real
utility, and in otiier instances hit upon one or two thin^^, perliaps, of the hiijh-
est order of uscftilness. As lie advanced in ycTrs, lie secni9 to have gradually
forsaken wild and hopeless projects, and ajtplied himself more and more to the
useful sciences. In IS'JIi, he is found siig^'esting the use of salt in improving
land ; an idea probably passed over in his own time as cliimerical, but revived
in the present age with good efl'ect. No more is heard of him till, in 1611, he
astonished the world by the publication of his book of logarithms. He is un-
dei"stood to have devoted the intermediate tiuie to the study of astronomy, a
Ecience then reviving to a new life, under the auspices of Kepler and Galileo,
the former of \vhoni dedicated his Epliemerides to Napier, considering him as
the greatest man of his age in the particular department to which he applied his
abilities.

" The demonstrations, problems, and calculations of astronomy, most com-
monly involve some one or more of the cases of trigonometry, or that branch
of mathematics, which, from certain parts, whether sides or angles, of a tri-
angle being given, teaches how to find the others which are unknoivn. On
this account, trigonometry, both plane and spherical, engaged much of Napier's
thoughts ; and he spent a great deal of his time in endeavouring to contrive
some methods by which the operations in both might be facilitated. Now, these
operations, the reader, who may be ignorant of mathematics, will observe, al-
ways proceed by geometrical ratios, or proportions. Thus, if certain lines be
described in or about a triangle, one of these lines will bear the same geometri-
cal proportion to another, as a certain side of the triangle does to a certain
other side. Of the four particulars thiis arranged, three must be known, and
then the fourth will be found by multiplying together certain two of those
known, and dividing the product by the other. This rule is derived from the
very nature of geometrical proportion, but it is not necessary that we should
stop to demonstrate here how it is deduced. It will be perceived, however, that
it must give occasion, in solving the problems of trigonometry, to a great deal
of multiplying and dividing — operations which, as everybody knows, become
very tedious whenever the numbers concerned are large; and they are generally
so in astronomical calculations. Hence such calculations used to exact immense
time and labour, and it became most important to discover, if possible, a way of
shortening them. Napier, as we have said, ajiplied himself assiduously to this
object; and he was, probably, not the only person of that age whose attention
it occupied. He was, however, undoubtedly the first who succeeded in it, which
he did most completely by the admirable contrivance which we are now about
to explain.

" When we say that 1 bears a certaiiT proportion, i-atio, or relation to 2, we
may mean any one of two things; either that I is the half of 2, or that it is
less than 2 by 1. If the former be what we mean, we may say that the relation
in question is the same as that of 2 to -t, or of 4 to 8 ; if the latter, we may say
that it is the same as that of 2 to 3, or of 3 to 4. Now,!n the former case, we
should be exemplifying what is called a geometrical, in the latter, what is called
an arithmetical proportion : the former being that which regards the number of
times, or parts of times, the one quantity is contained in the other ; the latter
regarding only the difference between the two quantities. AVe have already
stated that the property of four quantities arranged in geometrical proportion,
is, that the product of the second and third, divided by the first, gives the
fourth. But when four quantities are in arithmetical proportion, the sum of the
second and third, diminished by the subtraction of the first, gives the fourth.
Thus, in the geometrical proportion, 1 is to 2 as 2 is to 4 ; if 2 be multiplied

JOHN NAPIER, 91

by 2 it gives 4 ; which divided by 1 still remains 4 : while, in the arithmetical
proportion, 1 is to 2 as 2 is to 3 ; if 2 be added to 2 it gives 4 ; from which if
1 be subtracted, there remains the fourth term 3. It is plain, therefore, that,
especially where large numbers are concerned, operations by arithmetical must
be mucli more easily performed than operations by geometrical proportion ; for,
in the one case you have only to add and subtract, wiiile in the other you have
to go through the greatly more laborious processes of nmltiplication and division.
" Now, it occurred to Napier, reflecting upon this important distinction, that
a method of abbreviating the calculation of a geometrical proportion might per-
haps be found, by substituting, upon certain fixed principles, for its known
terms, others in aritJimetlcal proportion, and then finding, in the quantity
which should result from the addition and subtraction of these last, an indication
of that which should have resulted from the multiplication and division of the
original figures. It had been remarked before this, by more than one writer,
that if the series of numbers 1 , 2, 4, 8, &c., that proceed in geometrical pro-
gression, that is, by a continuation of geometrical ratios, were placed under or
along side of the series 0, 1, 2, 3, &c., which are in arithmetical progression,
the addition of any two terms of the latter series Avould give a sum, which would
stand opposite to a number in the former series indicating the product of the
two terms in that series, which corresjjonded in place to the two in tiie arith-
metical series first taken. Thus, in the two lines,

1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 25G,
0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,

the first of which consists of numbers in geometrical, and the second of numbers
in arithmetical progression, if any two terms, such as 2 and 4, be taken from
the latter, their sum 6, in the same line, will stand opposite to G4 in the other,
which is the product of 4 multiplied by 16, the two terms of the geometrical
series which stand opposite to the 2 and 4 of the arithmetical. It is also true,
and follows directly from this, that if any three terms, as, for instance, 2, 4, 6,
be taken in the arithmetical series, the sum of the second and third, diminished
by the subtraction of the first, which makes 8, will stand opposite to a number
(25G) in the geometrical series which is equal to the product of 16 and 64 (the
opposites of 4 and 6), divided by 4 (the opposite of 2).

" Here, then, is, to a certain extent, exactly such an arrangement or table as
Napier wanted. Having any geometrical proportion to calculate, the known
terms of which were to be found in the first line or its continuation, he could
substitute for them at once, by reference to such a table, the terms of an arith-
metical proportion, wliich, wrought in the usual simple manner, would give him
a result that would point out or indicate the unknown term of the geometrical
proportion. But, unfortunately, there were many numbers which did not occur
in the upper line at all, as it here appears. Thus, there were not to be found
in it either 3, or 5, or 6, or 7, or 9, or 10, or any other numbers, indeed, ex-
cept the few that happen to result from the multiplication of any of its terms by
two. Between 123 and 256, for example, there were 127 numbers wanting,
and between 256 and the next term (512) there would be 255 not to be
found.

" We cannot here attempt to explain the methods by Avhich Napier's ingenuity
succeeded in filling up these chasms, but must refer the reader, for full informa-
tion upon this subject, to the professedly scientific works which treat of the his-
tory and construction of logarithms. Suffice it to say, that he devised a mode
by which he could calculate the proper number to be placed in the table over
against any number whatever, whether integral or fractional. The new numeri-
c.il expressions thus found, he called Logarithms, a term of Greek etymology.

92 . TtLY. ALEXANDER NICOLL, D.C.L.

which signifies the ratios or proportions of numbers. He afterwards fixed upon
tlie pron;rossion, 1, 10, 100, 1000, &i;., or that which results from coiilimied
multiplication by 10, and wiiich is the same accorditig to whicli tiio present
tables are constructed. This improvement, wliicli possessus many advantages,
had suggested itself about 'liie same time to the learned Henry Briggs, then
professor of geometry in (iresham college, one of tiie persons who had the
merit of fii-st appreciating the value of Napier's invention, and who certainly did
more than any other to spread the knowledge of it, and also to contribute to its
perfection,"'

The invention was very soon known over all Europe, and was evcrywhcro
liailed with admiration by men of science. Napier followed it up, in 1G17, by
publishing a small treatise, giving an account of a method of performing the
operations of mtiltiplic^ation and division, by means of a number of small rods.
These materials for calculation have maintained tlieir place in science, and are
known by the appellation of Napier's Bones.

In IGOS, Napier succeeded his father, when he had a contest with liis brothers
and sisters, on account of some settlements made to his prejudice by his fiither,
in brcacli of a promise made in 15S6, in presence of some friends of the family,
not to sell, wadset, or dispose, from his son John, the lands of Over IMerchiston,
or any part thereofl The family disputes were probably accommodated before
June 9, 1613, on which day John Napier was served and returned heir of his
father in the lands of Over 3Ierchiston.

This illustrious man did not long enjoy the inheritance which had fallen to
him so unusually late in life. He died, April 3, 1G17, at Merchiston castle,
and was buried in the church of St Giles, on the eastern side of its southern
entrance, where is still to be seen a stone tablet, ex-posed to the street, and
bearing the following inscription : — " Sep. familice Naperoru. interius hie situm
est."

Napier was twice married; first, in 1571, to Elizabeth, daughter of Sir
James Stirling of Keir, by whom he had a son and a daughter ; secondly, to
Agnes, daughter of James Chisholm of Cromlix, by whom he had ten children.
His eldest son, Archibald, who succeeded him, was raised to the rank of a baron
by Charles I., in 1627, under the title of lord Napier, which is still borne by hia
descendants, A very elaborate life of him was published in 1835, (Blackwood,
Edinburgh).

NICOLL, (The Rev.) Alexander, D. C. L., canon of Christchurch, and regius
professor of Hebrew in the university of Oxford, was the youngest son of John
Nicoll, at Monymusk, in Aberdeenshire, where he was born, April 3, 1793.
Ihe subject of this memoir was carefully reared by his parent in the principles
of the Scottish episcopal church ; and, while little more than four years of age,
Avas placed at a private school, conducted by a 31r Sivewright, where he re-
ceived the first rudiments of learning. Two years afterwards, he \vas put to the
parish school, then and still taught by Mr Dufl', who grounded him in classical
literature. His behaviour at school was that of a modest, assiduous student, and
nothing but a reprimand ever disturbed the composure which was natural to
him. At this school, liis attainments were such as to attract tlie notice of the
clergymen of the presbytery, in the course of their professional visitations. In
1805, lie removed to the grammar school of Aberdeen, at which city, his elder
brother, 3Ir Lewis Nicoll, advocate, was able to take charge of his personal
conduct. At the commencement of the winter session of the same year, he
became a candidate for a bursary at the Marischal college, and obtained one of

' The above account of logarithms, vhich has the advantage of being very simple and iii-
Iclligible, is extracted from the Library of Entertaining Knowledge.

EEV. ALEXANDER NICOLL, D.C.L. 93

tlie smallest in the gift of tliat institution. He, tlierefore, attended the classes
of Latin and Greek during the session 1805-6, at the close of which he gained
the prize of the Silver Pen, always bestowed on the best scholar. This honour,
being, as usual, announced in the provincial newspapers, caused him to be
noticed by various eminent individuals, as a young man of peculiar promise.
Before the next session, he had studied mathematics at home, and pursued a
course of miscellaneous reading. Besides attending the classes formerly men-
tioned, he entered, in 1808, that of mathematics, then taught by Dr Hamilton,
the well-known expositor of the national debt ; and also attended the prelec-
tions of Mr Beattie, in natural and civil liistory. During the ensuing vacation,
he directed his attention to drawing, and produced several maps, sketched ia a
very neat manner.

Soon after the commencement of his third year, in 1807, Bishop Skinner,
of Aberdeen, informed him, that there was a vacancy at Baliol college, in one
of the exhibitions upon Snell's foundation, which he thought might be obtained.
By the advice of his elder brother, he proceeded to Oxford, with a letter of re-
commendation from Bishop Skinner to Dr Parsons, the master of the college,
and was at once elected to the vacant exhibition. Having been put under the
charge of a tutor, (the Rev. Mr Jenkyns,) he commenced his studies Avith great
eagerness, particularly in the department of Greek, where his chief deficiency
lay, and where he found himself, with only seven months' study of that language
in a Scotch university, pitted against youths who had studied at the much
superior schools of Oxford for three years. His native capacity and unwearied
application soon placed him on a level with his companions, and a college life
then began to have great charms for him. At Baliol, he had the society of a little
knot of Scottish students, partners with himself in the enjoyment of Snell's
foundation, and among whom wei-e several individuals now distinguished in
public life. For several years he prosecuted his studies with much diligence
and success ; and, in 1311, after the usual examination, obtained the degree of
bachelor of arts. It was not till 1813, that he directed his attention to the
Oriental languages, in which he was destined to become so noted a proficient. In
a letter to his brother, dated in December that year, he says : " For the last year,
I have been chiefly engaged in the study of the Oriental languages, the Hebrew,
Arabic, and Persic, and occasionally the modern languages. I liave latterly
obtained some knowledge of French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, and Ger-
man. There is no place where there are finer opportunities for studying the
Oriental languages, than in Oxford. The Bodleian library, to which 1 have
had access for the last two years, is said to be richer in that department than
any other. I have lately been introduced to Dr .Winstanley, principal of Alban
Hall, one of the best linguists in Oxford. I also know Dr Macbride, who has
lately been appointed principal of Magdalen Hall, and lecturer in Arabic,
who has already shown me gi-eat kindness." Soon after, on account of his
knowledge of languages, particularly those of the East, he was appointed, with-
out solicitation, one of the sub -librarians of the Bodleian ; a situation which
greatly favoured the progress of his studies.

In 1817, Mr NicoU received deacon's orders, and was appointed the curate
of one of the churches in Oxford, where he had part of the duty to perform.
This, however, did not in the least retard his studies, or his exertions in the
Bodleian. On considering various circumstances in the history of this institu-
tion, he liad marked out for himself a line of duty, by which he greatly bene-
fited its interests, and elevated his own reputation. He perceived that the
enormous treasure of Oriental manuscripts, about thirty thousand in number,
■ivas in a great measure useless, from being imperfectly catalogued ; and to re-

91 REV. ALEXANDER KICOLL, D.C.L.

iiictly tills defe<i ho forllnvilh n|>i>lic(l liiiuscU". He fust drew up a catalogue
of the iiiaiuiscripls bn)iij;lit from llie I'^asl by Ih- K. 1). Clarke, aiul, by jjublisli-
iiig' it, at ODCC establisitud liis fame as an Orientalist of the iirst class. He then
entered on the gif^aiitic task of completing the general cat;ilogiio of the eastern
manuscripts, which had been begun ab«)iit a hundred years before by Uri, the
celebrated Hungarian. 'J'ho first fasciculus uhicli he put forth of liiis work,
embracing manuscripts in nearly a dozen dillercnt tongues, analyzing their con-
tents, and estimating their merits in clear, forcible, and elegant Latin, diffused
ISicoU's reputation tiiroughout Europe, and brought him into acquaintance and
correspondence with all the eminent Orientalists at home and abroad. Every
summer thereafter he visited the continent, in order to examine various cele-
brated collections ; and, ere he died, there was not one of any note which he
had not seen. His epistolary correspondence with the eminent foreign literati,
was conducted chiefly in Latin, which he wrote \vith perfect facility ; but his
knowledge of the modern European languages, was hardly less extraordinary
than his orientalism. He spoke and wrote, with ease and accuracy, French,
Italian, German, Danish, Swedish, and Itomaic. In short, it was the connuon
saying of the Oxonian common-rooms, that Nicoll coidd walk to the wall of
China without need of an interpreter. In the midst of all the honours that
were paid to hiui, and though his intercourse with so many distinguished men
had given ease and elegance to his manners, he never lost the original modesty
and reserve of his nature. It was forcibly said of him by an eminent scholar,
after conversing with him, " Sir, he is not modest, — he is modesty itself."

The time at length arrived when he was to receive a reward due to his great
merits and exertions. In June, 1S22, on the promotion of Dr Ilichard Lau-
rence to the archbishopric of Cashel, Nicoll was, wiiiiout solicitation, appointed
t.) the vacant chair of regius professoi" of Oriental languages ; the following
being the letter in which lord Liverpool announced the appointment: —

" Fife House, l9tJi June, 1822.
" Sm, — In consequence of the promotion of Dr Laurence to the archbishopric
of Cashel, the regius professorship of Hebrew in the university of Oxford, to-
gether with the canonry of Christ Clmrcli attached to it, becomes vacant. The
high reputation which you have acquired as an Oriental scholar, and the value
attached to your labours, have induced his majesty to approve of you as Dr
Laurence's successor ; and I can entertain no doubt that this mark of royal
favour, conferred upon you without solicitation, will be a strong inducement to
you to persevere in those studies by which you have acquired so much credit,
and to use your utmost endeavours to promote the study of Oriental literature
in the university of Oxford, — I have the honour to be, Sir, your very obedient
humble servant,

(Signed) " Liveepogi,."

Nicoll was thus elevated from a salary of about £200 a-year, and the compara-
tively humble situation of a sub-librarian in the Bodleian, to the enjoyment of
£2000, and two of the highest dignities in the university. He soon after took
the degree of D. C. L.

For some years, Dr Nicoll performed the duties of his high station with the
greatest zeal and success, producing a considerable increase in the attendance of
his class, and not neglecting, at the same time, the important task which he
liad undertaken at the Bodleian. He had nearly completed the catalogue,
when, on the 24th of September, 1828, having previously weakened his con-
sitution by intense study, he was cut oft' by an inilanuiiation in the windpipe,
lu the thirty-sixth year of his age.

JOHN OGILVIE, D.D.JOHN OGILVY, 95

Dr Nlcoll was twice married; first, to a Danish lady, who died in 1825;
secondly, to Sophia, daughter of the reverend J. Parsons, the learned editor of
the Oxford Septuagint, and by whom a memoir of Dr NicoU was prefixed to a
posthumous volume of his sermons. By his second Avife, Dr NicoU had three
daughters, who survived him. " This great scholar," said one of the journals,
in alluding to his death, " has left behind him a reputation which his family
may well consider as their dearest treasure. While his attainments were of the
first order, his personal character was without spot or blemish. He was virtu-
ous in evei'y relation of life ; cheerful in poverty ; humble in prosperity : sin-
cere, kind, generous, and eminently pious."

a

OGILVIE, JcH;7, D. D.,a poet and miscellaneous writer, was born in the year
1733. His father was one of the ministers of Aberdeen, and he received his
education in the Marischal college in that city. Having qualified himself as a
preacher, he was settled, in the year 1759, as minister of the parish of Mid-
mar, in Aberdeenshire, where he continued to exercise his useful duties till the
close of his life, in 1814. With the exception of the publication of a book,
and an occasional visit to London, the life of Dr Ogilvie Avas marked by hardly
any incident. The list of his works is as follows: " The Day of Judgment," a
poem, 1758 ; a second edition of the same, with additional poems, 1755)
'Poems on several Subjects," 1763; "Providence, an Allegorical Poem,"
1763 ; " Solitude, or the Elysium of the Poets, a Vision," 1765 ; " Paradise,"
a poem, and two volumes of poems on several subjects, 1760 ; " Philosophi-
cal and Critical Observations on the Nature, Character, and various Species of
Composition," 1774 ; " Rome," a poem, 1775 ; " An Inquiry into the Causes
of Infidelity and Scepticism in all Times," 1783; "The Theology of Plato
compared with the Principles of the Oriental and Grecian Philosophy," 179 3 ;
"Britannia," an epic poem, in twenty books, 1801 ; and " An Examination of
the Evidence from Prophecy, in behalf of the Christian Religion," 1802.

The name of Ogilvie is certainly not unknown to fame; yet it cannot be said
that any of his numerous works has maintained a place in the public eye. To
account for this, one of his biographers makes the following remarks : " Ogilvie,
with powers far above the common order, did not know how to use them with
effect. He was an able man lost. His intellectual wealth and industry were
wasted in huge and unhappy speculations. Of all his books, there is not one
which, as a whole, can be expected to please the general reader. Noble senti-
ments, brilliant conceptions, and poetic graces, may be culled in profusion from
the mass ; but there is no one pi'oduction in Avhich they so predominate, (if we
except some of his minor pieces,) as to induce it to be selected for a happier
fate than the rest. Had the same talent which Ogilvie threw away on a number
of objects, been concentrated on one, and that one chosen with judgment and
taste, he might have rivalled in popularity the most renowned of his con-
temporaries."^

OGILVY, Jonx, a poet and geographer, was born in the year 1600, at or
near Edinburgh. While he was very young, his parents removed with Liin to
London, where his father, some time after, fell into debt, and was confined in
the King's Bench prison. Notwithstanding family misfortunes, the subject of

' Lives of Eminent Scotsmen, ii. 137.

00 JOHN OGILVY.

this memoir was able to pick up a slender knowledge of Latin grammar. What
is still more to his praise, he put himself apprentice to a teacher of dancing,
and ^vith the first money he procured from his master, freed his father from
confinement. A sprain which he got in dancing at a masque put a temporary
stop to his career in this profession, and made him slightly lame ever after,
yet he is found to have been retained by the celebrated carl of Strafford
as teacher of dancing in his lordship's family, at the same time that he accom-
panied the earl to Ireland, as one of his troop of guards. At this time
ho wrote a humorous piece, entitled " Tlio Cliaraeter of a Trooper." Under
favour of the carl of Strafford, ho became in time Master of Revels, and built a
theatre in Dublin. The civil war, however, which had made shipwreck of the
fortunes of his patron, seems to have also blasted the prospects of Ogilvy, who,
about the time of its conclusion, arrived in a necessitous condition in London,
and soon after applied himself at Cambridge to remedy tlie defects of his
original education. In the latter object he succeeded so far as to be able to
publish, in 1649, his translation of Virgil into English verse; which was fol-
lowed in IGGO by a similar version of Homer. In 1651 ho produced "The Fables
of iEsop, paraphrased in verse," in a quarto volume, with recommendatory verses
prefixed by Sir William Davenant, and James Sliirley, the dramatic poet. Four
years afterwards he published another volume of translations from iEsop, with
some fables of his own, Ogilvy was a fertile writer of original verses. We are
fortunately saved the trouble of making an estimate of his literary character, by
Winstanly, whose panegyric, utterly preclusive of all rivalry, is as follows : —
"John Ogilvy was one who, from a late initiation into literature, made such
progress as might well style him the prodigy of his time ; sending into the world
so many large volumes; his translations of Homer and Virgil, done to the life,
and with such excellent sculptures ; and, what added great grace to his ivorks,
he printed them all on special good paper, and of a very good letter." Miserable
as his translation of Homer is allowed to have been, it was a favourite of Pope
in his younger days, and it is impossible to say to what extent we may be indebted
for the beautiful versions of the latter writer to the early bias thus given to his
taste. It is also to be mentioned, to the honour of Ogilvy, that the elegance of
the typography of his translations was in a great measure owing to his own
exertions for the improvement of that art. The engravings, moreover, which he
caused to be executed for his Virgil were of such superior merit for their time,
as to be afterwards employed in illustrating an edition of the original poet, and
subsequently for the decoration of Dryden's translation. At the Restoration,
our author was replaced in his situation of Master of the Revels in Ireland, and
once more erected his theatre in the capital of that kingdom. His chief atten-
tion, however, seems to have been now devoted to the composition of an epic
poem, entitled the " Carolics," in honour of Charles I., the manuscript of which
was lost in the great fire of London, when his house was burnt down. He im-
mediately commenced reprinting all his former publications, and sold them, as
he had previously done, by means of a lottery, whereby he now raised £4210,
which enabled him to set up a printing office, for the purpose of producing
geographical works, he having received the appointment of cosmographer and
geographic printer to the king. In this capacity he projected a general Atlas
of the world, of which he only lived to complete the parts descriptive of China,
Japan, Africa, Persia, Britain, &c. He also produced several topographical
works, one of which, entitled, "The Traveller's Guide," describing the roads
of England from his own actual survey, was long a well-known and serviceable
took. Mr Ogilvy concluded an active, and, upon the whole, useful life, in 1676.

DAVID PANTHER.— MUNGO PARK. 97

P

PANTHER, David, (whose name is diversely spelled Panter and Paniter,) a
learned diplomatic character of the sixteenth century, was descended from an ! I
ancient family near Montrose. He successively held the ecclesiastical offices of 1 1
vicar of Carstairs, prior of St IVIary's Isle, conimendntor of Cambuskenneth, and
bishop of Ross, and in the latter part of the reign of James V., and for some !
years later, was principal secretary of state. In this latter character, he wrote i |
many official letters to foreign courts, which have been highly praised for the j |
extraordinary elegance of their Latinity. In 1722, Ruddiman published two \\
well-known volumes, entitled " EpistolsB Jacobi Quarti, Quinti, et Marine Regi- i i
naj Scotorum, eorumque Tutoruin et Regni Gubernatorum, ad Iniperatores, 1 1
Reges, Pontifices, Civitates et Alios, ab Anno 1505 ad Annum 1 545 ;" of which j \
the whole of the second is the composition of David Pantlier, while the first j I
contains letters written in a similar official character, by Patrick Panther, his ! j
near relation. i |

Panther subsequently acted for seven years as ambassador of Scotland at the 1 1
French court. After a life distinguished by high services, but, it appears, by i
no great purity of morals, he died at Stirling, October 1, 1558. j ;

PARK, MuNGO, a distinguished, but unfortunate traveller, was born at Fowl- 1 1
shiels, in Selkirkshire, September 10, 1771. His father, who rented the farm
of Fowlshiels from the duke of Buccleuch, had thirteen children, of whom
Mungo was the seventh. Notwithstanding his limited resources, he kept a pri-
vate tutor in his house, for the education of his family ; and of the advantage
of this arrangement, the subject of t!ie present memoir largely partook. He
was afterwards sent to the grammar school of Selkirk, where he made astonish-
ing progress, not so much by his ready talents, as by his remarkable perse-
verance and application ; and, despite of many disadvantages, uniformly kept
the place of dux, or head of his class. This early devotion to study and apti-
tude of acquirement, together with his thoughtful and reserved disposition,
seemed to his father to point out the church as his future profession, but upon
his son's expressing a decided preference for that of medicine, he at once
agreed, and bound him apprentice for three years to Mr Thomas Anderson,
surgeon in Selkirk. At the close of his indenture in 1789, being then eigh-
teen years of age, he went to Edinburgh, and attended the classes for three
successive sessions, continuing to exhibit the same thirst of knowledge, and un-
wearied application to all the studies connected with his profession, particularly
botany. In the latter, he is said to have been greatly assisted and encouraged
by a brother-in-law, Mr James Dickson, who, from an origin even more humble
and obscure than that of Park himself, subsequently raised himself to fame and
fortune, and became celebrated as one of the first botanists in the kingdom.
He had gone to London in search of employment as a journeyman gardener,
!ind procured an engagement, in that humble capacity, witli a nurseryman at
Hammersmith, where he had the good fortune to attract the notice of Sir Jo-
seph Banks, to whose kind friendship and patronage he was mainly indebted
for his future success and celebrity.

After qualifying himself in his profession at Edinburgh, young Park went to
London in search of employment, and was very speedily appointed assistant-
surgeon on board the Worcester, East Indiaman, through the interest of Sir
Joseph Banks, to wliom Mr Dickson had introduced him. Mr Park showed

OS MUNOO PARK.

liiinself everyway worthy of tliis np)>()lntinent, and made an adequate return to
liis disliiiguislicd patron, by the vahiablo observations and discoveries be niado
in botany, and other braiK^JK-s of natural history, in a voyage to Bencoolen, in
the island of Sumatra. On his return in 171)1, being then only twenty-three
years old, he liad the lionour of reading a paj)cr before tlie I.inii.Tan Society in
London, giving a description of eight new species of (ishes he had observed in
Sumatra, which was afterwards publislied in the 'I'ransactions of the Society.

After leaving the Worcester, IMr Park appears to have had no certain or fixed
views as to his future caiocr, but his talents and genius had already distinguished
him too m .cli to allow liim to remain long unemployed. The wealliiy and
scientific Association for the Promotion of Discovery through the Interior of
Africa, were at that time preparing to send out an expedition, with the view of
endeavouring to trace the course of the Niger, and procuring every information
relative to the great central city of Timbu{;too, of which little more than the
name was then known. Sir Joseph Banks, one of the leading men of the As-
sociation, immediately pointed out Park as one peculiarly eligible for taking
the management of the expedition, and the offer being accordingly made to
him, was eagerly accepted. He immediately prepared himself, therefore, for
the task, being liberally supplied, according to his own statement, with the
means of furnishing himself with everything lie reckoned necessary, and sailed
from Portsmouth on the 22nd of May, 1795, in the brig Endeavour. His in-
structions were, to pi-oceed to the Niger by the nearest and most convenient
route, and endeavour to trace its course, from its rise to its termination ; as
also to visit, if possible, all the principal towns and cities on its banks, parti-
cularly Timbuctoo and Houssa, and afterwards return to Europe by the river
Gambia, or any other way he thought advisable. He arrived at Jillifica, in the
kingdom of Barra, and lying on the northern bank of the Gambia, on the
21st of June ; and after proceeding up the river as far as Jonkakonda, he
quitted the Endeavour, and proceeded by land to a small British factory, which
had been established at Pisania, in the king of Yam's territories, where he took
up his residence for a short time with Dr Laidley. He immediately applied
himself to the study of the Mandingo tongue, and to collect all the information
possible, relative to the various people and countries in the interior, preparatory
to his journey. In consequence, however, of exposure to the night deAv, while
observing an eclipse of the moon, in the month of July, he vas seized with
fever, attended with delirium, uhich brought him almost to the grave ; nor was
he sufiiciently recovered to commence his journey till December. On the 2nd
of that month he set out, having for his escort a negTo servant, named Johnson,
who had resided many years in Great Britain, and understood both the English
and Mandingo languages, as a guide and interpreter ; a negio boy belonging
to Dr Laidley, and whom that gentleman promised to set free on his i-eturn, in
the event of his good conduct ; with four others, not immediately under his
control, but who were made to understand that their own safety depended upon
their fidelity to him. It may be interesting also to notice the nature and value
of Iiis equipments for a journey of such length, peril and importance. These
consisted of a horse for himself, two asses for his servants, provisions for two
days, a small assortment of beads, amber, and tobacco, a few changes of linen
and other apparel, an umbrella, a pocket sextant, a magnetic compass, a ther-
mometer, two fowling-pieces, two pairs of pistols, and a few other trifling ai--
ticles. Such were all the means of sustenance, comfort, and safety, with which
this intrepid man was provided for an expedition, tlie duration of which it was
out of his power to calculate, but whose route, he well knew, lay, in some
places, through pathless deserts, where neither tree grew, nor water ran, and

MUNGO PARK. 99

beset with beasts of prey ; in others, through the territories of barbarous tribes,
from whose iiihospitality or savage dispositions he had scarcely less to fear.

At the very outset, an event occurred which seemed to bode ill for the result
of his journey. Dr Laidley, and a few other of the Europeans at Pisania, hav-
ing escorted him during the first two days, bade him adieu, convinced that they
would never see him more ; and scarcely were tliey out of sight, when he was
surrounded by a horde of native banditti, from whom he only got free by sur-
rendering the greater part of his small store of tobacco. Park, however, was
not a man to be depressed by evil auguries, and he accordingly pushed on to
Medina, the capital of Woolli, A\here the king, a benevolent old man, received
him with much kindness, and furnished him with a trusty guide to the frontiers of
his dominions. Our traveller then engaged three elephant hunters, as guides and
^vater-bearers, through the sandy desert which lay before him, where water was
frequently not to be found for several days together. He performed the jour-
ney in safety, but after much fatigue, and reached Fatteconda, the residence of
the king of Bondon, situated upon the very frontiers of his dominions, adjoining
the kingdom of Kajaaga, It was at Fatteconda, and at the hands of the same
chief, that Park's predecessor in enterprise, Major Houghton, had received such
ill usage, and was plundered of almost everything he possessed ; but the only
article he exacted from Park, and that not by force, but by such warm and ani-
mated expressions of admiration as left our traveller no alternative to choose,
\vas his new blue coat, with gilt buttons, in return for which he presented him
with five drachms of gold. From Fatteconda he proceeded to Joag, the fron-
tier town of Kajaaga, travelling in the night-time for fear of robbers, and
through thickets abounding with wolves and hyenas, which glided across their
silent path in the clear moonshine, and hung round the small pasty with yells
and bowlings, as if watching an opportunity to spring upon them. At Joag,
and whilst preparing to proceed on his journey, he was honoured by a visit
from the king's son, who plundered him of the half of his little stores, en pre-
tence of his having forfeited all his property by entering the kingdom without
leave. As a sort of consolation for this disaster, and whilst appeasing his
hunger with a few ground nuls Avhich a poor negro slave had given him in
charity, he was waited upon by the nephew of the king of Kasson, who had
been at Kajaaga on an embassy, and who, taking pity on him, oflered to escort
him to his uncle's capital, to which he Avas now returning, and which lay in the
line of our travellers route. After crossing the river Senegal, however, which
was the boundary of Kasson, his royal guide left him, having first taken from
him the half of the little property he had left. A few days after this, Park,
for the first time, had an opportunity of observing the manners of the barbarous
and untutored natives of Africa in all their primitive simplicity and unchecked
ardour. They came to a village which was the birth-place of one of his faith-
ful escort, a blacksmith that had accompanied him from Pisania, and who was
now about to leave him, having amassed a considerable deal of money in his
profession on the coast, and resolving to spend the rest of his days in ease and
independence amongst his family and friends. The meeting which ensued was
characterized by the most extravagant demonstrations of joy and triumph, and
Park was convinced, that " whatever difference there is between tlie negro and
European, in the conformation of the nose, and the colour of the skin, there is
none in the genuine sympathies and characteristic feelings of our common na-
ture." With these warm-hearted villagers, our traveller rested for a day or
two, and then proceeded to Kooniakary, where the king, a worthy old man, who
was greatly beloved by his subjects, received him with much kindness, hrom
this point new perils beset 3Ij; Park's further progress, in consecpience of war

100 ]\1UNG0 PARK.

breaking out between the peojjle of Damb.irra, to which hingdom his course
uns directetl, and oilier tiibcs, tlirotigh ^vlioso territories he had to piiss on his
way tliilher. He nevcrliieloss |)ersevcre<l, allliou;>li even his I'aitlifiil negro
Jolinson, Avho was a\\aro of llie tlangers lie was running into, refused to accom-
pany him fiirlher. 'J'hey parted arcordini^ly al .larra, in tlic Itingdom of Liidi-
mar (liie people of which, as ^^oll as of the neighbonring nations, were found to he
Blahomedans), and 31r Park, having intrusted Johnson \»illi a copy of his jour-
nal to carry bade with him to I'isnnia, set out for the camp of Ali at IJenowni,
accompanied only by I)r Laidley's slave hoy, and a messenger who had arrived
from Ali to conduct him thither. On the way he sufl'ercd great privations, and
was repeatedly beaten and robbed by the fanatical floors, to whom he was an
object of peculiar detestation as a Christian. All the sufl'erings and insults
which he liad yet undergone, liowever, were nothing to what he was doomed to
endure Avhile in tlie power of the tyrant Ali. His appearance at IJenowui
excited the greatest astonishment and consternation amongst the inhabitants,
scarcely one of whom had ever seen a white man before. When taken before
Ali, the latter was engaged in the dignified occupation of clipping liis beard
witli a pair of scissors, and paid little regard to him; but the ladies of the court
fully maintained the character of their sex for inqiiisitiveness, searched h'n
pockets, opened his waistcoat to examine his white skin, and even counted his
toes and fingers to make sure of his being human. It would occupy far more
space than the limits of this memoir will allow, to detail the innumerable and
unremitting sufl'erings of our unfortunate countryman during his detention at
this place. TJie unfeeling tyrant would neither permit him to depart, nor
grant him any protection from the persecution of the fanatical rabble. Ho was
beat, reviled, compelled to perform the meanest offices, frequently on the point
of starvation, and was often necessitated to sleep in the open air. All his bag-
gage was taken from him to deter him from running away, with the exception
of a pocket compass, which was supposed to be the work of magic, from the
needle always pointing in the same direction, and was therefore returned to
him. At last it began to be debated how he was to be disposed of — some ad-
vising that he should be put to death, others, that his right hand should be cut
off, and another party, that his eyes should be put out. Park's health at length
gave way under the accumulated horrors of his situation, and he was seized with
a fever and delirium, which brought him to the brink of the grave. Yet even
in this extremity, his persecutors never desisted from their cruelties, and tor-
mented him like some obnoxious animal, for their amusement. Perhaps the
strongest proof that can be given of the extent of his suflerings at this time,
and of the deep and lasting impression they made on his mind, is the fact, that
years afterwards, subsequent to his return to Scotland, and while residing with
his family on the peaceful banks of the Tweed, he frequently started up in hor-
ror from his sleep, imagining himself still in the camp of Ali at Benowni. But
perhaps nothing gave our traveller so much permanent grief as the fate of his
faithful slave boy Demba, whom Ali impressed into his service as a soldier, and
who had conceived a great aflection for IMr Park, who describes their parting
as very aflecting. After a month's residence at Benowni, Ali removed to Jarra,
back to which place, of course, IMr Park was obliged to accompany him. Here
all was alarm and terror, from the approach and apprehended attack of the king
of Kaarta ; and amid the bustle and confusion of the inhabitants flying from
their homes, the preparations for war, &-c., Mr Park at last, after great difli-
culty, and amid many perils, found an opportunity of escaping, and struck into
the woods back towards Bambarra. Being under the necessity of avoiding all
intercourse Avith the natives, in order to avoid being recaptiued by the emissa-

MUNGO PAEK, 101

ries of Ali, who were in pursuit of him, he was at one time nearly famished in
the wilderness, and we will take his own account of his sensations at tliis awful
crisis. Thirst, intense and burning thirst, was the first and direst of his sufi'er-
ings ; his mouth and throat became parched and inflamed, and a sudden dim-
ness frequently came over his eyes, accompanied with symptoms of fainting.
The leaves of the few shrubs that grew around were all too bitter for chewing.
After climbing up a tree in the hopes of discovering some signs of a human ha-
bitation, but without success, he again descended in despair. " As I was now,"
says he, " too faint to attempt walking, and my horse too fatigued to carry me,
I thought it but an act of humanity, and perhaps the last I should ever have it
in my power to perform, to take off his bridle, and let him shift for him-
self; in doing which, I was affected with sickness and giddiness, and, fal-
ling upon the sand, felt as if the hour of death was fast approaching. Here,
then, thought I, after a short but ineffectual struggle, terminate all my hopes
of being useful in my day and generation ; here must the short span of my
life come to an end. I cast, as I believed, a last look on the surrounding-
scene ; and whilst I reflected on the awful change that was about to take
place, this world and its enjoyments seemed to vanish from my recollection.
Nature, however, at length resumed her functions ; and, on recovering my
senses, I found myself stretched upon the sand, with the bridle still in my
hand, and the sun just sinking behind the trees. I now summoned all my
resolution, and determined to make another effort to prolong my existence :
and as the evening was somewhat cool, I resolved to travel as far as my limbs
would carry me, in hopes of reaching (my only resource) a watering place.
With this view, I put the bridle upon my horse, and driving him before me,
went slowly along for about an hour, when I perceived some lightning from
the northeast ; a most delightful sight, for it promised rain. The dai'kness
and lightning increased very rapidly, and, in less than an hour, I heard the
^vind roaring behind the bushes. I had already opened my mouth to receive
the refreshing drops which I expected, but I was instantly covered with
a cloud of sand, driven with such force by the wind, as to give a very disa-
greeable sensation to my face and arms ; and I was obliged to mount my horse,
and stop under a bush, to avoid being suffocated. The sand continued to
fly for nearly an hour in amazing quantities, after Avhich I again set forwards,
and travelled with difficulty until ten o'clock. At this time, I was agreeably
surprised by some very vivid flashes of lightning, followed by a few heavy
drops of rain. I alighted, and spread out all my clean clothes to collect the
i-ain, Avhich at length I saw would certainly fall. For more than an hour it
rained plentifully, and I quenched my thirst by wringing and sucking my
clothes," Parle at length entered the kingdom of Bambarra, where he found
the people hospitable, and was astonished at the opulence and extent of culti-
vation he everywhere found. The country, he says, was beautiful, intersected
on all sides by rivulets, which, after a rain-storm, were swelled into rapid
streams. He was, however, such an object of amusement and ridicule to the
inhabitants, from his own tattered condition, together with the appearance of
his horse, which was a perfect skeleton, and which he drove before him, that
the very slaves, he says, were ashamed to be seen in his company. Notwith-
standing all this, however, he held on his way, and at last, on tlie 21st of
July (1796), had the inexpressible gratification of coming in sight of Sego,
the capital of Eambarra, situated on the Niger, \vhich the natives denominated
Joliha, or the " Great Water." " As we approached the town," says Park,
*' I was fortunate enough to overtake the fugitive Kaartans, and we rode tO'
gether through some marshy ground, where, as I anxiously looked around fur

tlio river, ono of llicni railed out Geo affiHi (see the wnter). liooking foP-
uards, I saw, with infinite pleasure, the j^reat oliject of my mission — tlio long
soiiglit for majestic Niger, frliltering to the niorninj^ sun, ns broad as the
Thames at Westminster, and flowing slowly to the eastward. I hastened to
the brink, and having drunk of tlio water, lificd up my fervent tlianks in
prayer to the Cireat Kuler of all things, for having thus far crowned my en-
deavours with success." Sego consisted of four distinct towns, two on the nor-
thern, and two on the southern bank of the Niger ; " and the view of this
extensive capital," says our traveller, " the numerous canoes on the river, the
crowded population, and tlie cultivated state of the surrounding country, formed
altogether a prospect of civilization and magnificence which I little expected to
find in the bosom of Africa." The king, 3Iansong, however, refused to see Mr
Park, for fear of exciting the envy and jealousy of the 3Ioorish inhabitants,
and ordered him to remove to a village in the vicinity. lie had no alterna-
tive but to comply ; and it was here that one of those fine traits of female
compassion, and of the kind interposition of Providence in his favour when at
the last extremity, uhich he has frequently borne testimony to with thankful-
ness and gratitude, occurred; and this truly affecting incident Me cannot
avoid giving in his own simple language. On arriving at the village, he was
inhospitably driven from every door, with marks of fear and astonishment. He
passed the day without victuals, and was preparing to spend the night under
a tree, exposed to the rain and the fury of the wild beasts, which there great-
ly abounded, " when a woman, returning from tiie labours of the field,
stopped to observe me, and perceiving me weary and dejected, inquired into
my situation, which I briefly explained to her; whereupon, with looks of
great compassion, she took up my saddle and bridle, and told me to follow
her. Having conducted me into her hut, she lighted up a lamp, spread a mat
upon the floor, and told me I might remain there for the night, binding that
I was very hungry, she said she would procure me something to eat; siie ac-
cordingly went out, and returned in a short time with a very fine fish, which
having caused to be broiled upon some embers, she gave me for supper. The
rites of hospitality being thus performed towards a stranger in distress, my
worthy benefactress (pointing to the mat, and telling me I might sleep there
without apprehension), chilled to the female part of her family, who had stood
gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to resume their task of
spinning cotton, in which they continued to employ themselves great part of
the niglit. Tliey lightened tlieir labour with songs, one of which was composed
extempore, for I was myself the subject of it; it was sung by one of the young
Avomen ; the rest joining in a chorus. The air was sweet and plaintive, and
the words, literally translated, were these: 'The winds roared, and the rains
fell. The poor white man, faint and weary, came and sat under our tree —

he has no mother to bring him milk, no wife to grind his corn.' Ciiorus

' Let us pity tl.e white man ; no mother has he!' &c., &c. Trifling as tliis re-
cital may appear to the reader, to a person in my situation the circumstance
was nfl'ecting in the highest degree. I was so oppressed by such unexpected
kindness, that sleep fled before my eyes. In the morning I presented my
compassionate landlady with two of the four brass buttons that reuiained on my
waistcoat, the only recompense I could make her." Mansong, the king,
having ordered Park to leave the neighbourhood, (sending him, however,
a guide, and a present of 5000 cowries, as some recompense for his involun-
tary iuhospitality,) our traveller proceeded down the Niger, along the nortliern
bank. On one occ^asion, while passing through the woods, he narrowly es-
caped being devoured by a large red lion, whicli he suddenly came upon.

MUNGO PARK. 103

crouching in a busli, but which did not attack him. lie proceeded first to
Sansanding-, thence to Moodiboo, Moorzan, and finally to Silla. Here, \vorn
out by fatigue and suffering of mind and body, destitute of all means, either or
subsistence or of prosecuting his journey — for even his horse had dropped down
by tlie way — his resolution and energy, of which no man ever possessed a
greater share, began to fail liim. The rainy season had set in, and he could
only travel in a canoe, which he had no money to hire ; and he was advancing
farther and farther into the territories of the fanatical IMoors, who looked upon
him with loathing and detestation, and whose compassion he had no gifts to
propitiate. It was with great anguish of mind that he uas at last brought to
the conviction of the necessity of returning ; but no one who lias read his own
simple and manly statement of his actual situation, and of the prospect before
liim, together with his poignant sensations at his disappointment, can for a
moment blame him for turning back. Preparatory to doing so, he collected all
the information in his power respecting the future course of the Niger, and the
various kingdoms through which it flowed ; but subsequent discoveries have
since proved how little credit could be attached to the accounts of the natives,
either from their positive ignorance or their suspicious jealousy of strangers.
Later and more fortunate travellers, have solved the great problem, the honour
of explaining which was denied to Park ; and we now know that this great
river, after flowing to a considerable distance eastward of Timbuctoo, makes a
bend or elbow, like the Eurampooter, and, after pursuing a south-westerly
course, falls into the Atlantic Ocean on the coast of Benin. The narrative
of Ptir Park's return from tiie interior of Africa would be little else than a
repetition of the various sufferings, adventures, and dangers he experienced on
his way there, but only in a more aggravated form, in consequence both of his
utterly destitute condition, and from the inundation of the level country, which
compelled him to seek his way over chasms and precipices, without a guide, or
any other means of shaping his course. He frequently waded for miles breast-
deep in water. Once he was beset by banditti, who .stripped him of everything
but two shirts, his hat, and a pair of trousers ; and on arriving at Sibidooloo,
he was attacked by fever, which stretched him on his back for many weeks.
Here, however, he was fortunate enough to meet with a slave mercliant, named
Karfa Taura, who treated him with great liindness and humanity — took him
into his own house — nursed him until he was well — kept him as his guest for
seven months, without asking the smallest recompense — and finally conducted
him in safety to Pisania, with a cargo of his living merchandise. Our traveller
immediately took his passage in an American vessel, bound for the West Indies,
whence he had no difficulty in getting to Britain, and landed at Falmouth
on the 22d of December, 1797, after an absence of two years and seven
months.

Blr Park was received with distinguished honour by the African Association,
and almost all the other scientific bodies and eminent literary characters of the
metropolis, and was for some time, what is familiarly termed, tJie lion of the
town. Having made arrangements in London for the publication of his travels,
he proceeded to Scotland in June 1798, and spent the succeeding summer
and autumn at his native place, Fowlshiels, among his relations and friends,
his mother being the only parent then alive. His time, however, Mas far from
being passed in idleness, or merely in social meetings with old friends and ac-
quaintance, much as his company, as may readily be imagined, was sought
after. He applied himself indefatigably to the compilation and composition ot
his travels, which he finished and carried back with him to London in the end
of the year. In the following spring they were published, and it is needless to

104 JIUNGO PARK.

sny Iiow universally, or uith Hhat avidity, not to mention incredtdity by
ninny, they uere ie;ul. Tor llie latlcr continp^cncy, IMr Park himself was pre-
pared, and witii a judicious ca-.ition, wliich fuw of his rivals in discovery, either
before or since, li.ivc liad the pnidenco m- self-denial, as it may ajitly be termed,
to adopt, omitted the relation of many real incidents and ad^entures, which lie
feared might shake the prtibahility of his narrative in the public estimation.
This tact has been proved beyond doubt, by the testimony of many of his inti-
mate friends and relatives, to whom, aUhough by no means of a comniuniiativo
disposition, he freely mentioned many singular ane<;dotcs and 2)articular8, ^^hich
lie scrupled to submit to the jealous eye of the critical public. Amongst those
friends to whom 3Ir Park frequently communicated in a colloquial way many
most interesting- and remarkable circumstances which did not appear in his
printed travels, was Sir \Valter Scott, between whom and Mr Park a strong
intimacy was contracted subsequent to the return of the latter from Africa,
and who tells us, tliat having onco noticed to his friend the omissions in
question (which appeared to one of his romantic temperament and ardent
imagination to be unaccountable), and asked an explanation, 3Ir Park re-
plied, " that in all cases where he had information to communicate, which he
thought of importance to the public, he had stated the facts boldly, leaving it
to his readers to give such credit to his statements as they might appear justly
to deserve ; but that he would not shock their credulity, or render his travels
more marvellous, by introducing circumstances, which, however true, were of
little or no moment, as they related solely to his own personal adventures and
escapes." If this scrupulousness on the part of the traveller is to be regretted in
one sense, as consigning to oblivion many curious and interesting facts, it cer-
tainly raises him as a man and an author incalculably in our estimation, and be-
speaks the most implicit belief and confidence in what he lias promulgated to
the world.

After the publication of his travels, he returned to Scotland, and in August
the same year married Miss Anderson, the eldest daughter of his old master at
Selkirk. For some time after his marriage, and before he set out on his second
expedition, Mr Pai'k appears to have been quite undecided as to his pros-
pects in life ; and perhaps the comparative independence of his circumstances,
from the profits of his publication, and the remuneration he obtained from the
African Association, rendered him someuhat indifferent to any immediate per-
manent situation. But it was likewise strongly suspected by his intimate
friends, that he entertained hopes of being soon called upon to undertake
another mission to the Niger, aUhough he kept perfectly silent on the subject.

As time continued to elapse, without any such proposition from the expected
quarter being made, Mr Park perceived the imprudence of remaining in idle-
ness, and in ISOl, i-emoved to Peebles, where he commenced practice as a sur-
geon. But it would appear he was not very successful in this speculation ; and
this fact, together with the natural restlessness of his disposition, seems to have
rendered his situation peculiarly irksome to him. In answer to a friend, who
suspected his design of again proceeding abroad, and earnestly remonstrated
with him against it, he writes, " that a few inglorious winters of practice at
Peebles was a risk as great, and would tend as efiectually to shorten life, as the
icurney he was about to undertake." In the mean time, his ennui, or im-
patience, was much relieved by the enjoyment of the best society in the neigh-
bourhood, and by being honoured Avith the friendship of many of the most dis-
tinguished characters in Scotland at that time. Amongst these were the
venerable Dr Adam Ferguson, then resident at Hallyards, near Peebles;
colonel Murray of Cringletie ; and professor Dugald Stewart. As before men-

IMUNGO PARK. 105

tioned, too, a strong intimacy sprung up between our traveller and Sir
Walter Scott, then but little known in the literary world, and who resided
witli his family at Ashiestiel, on the banks of the Tweed. This fx-iendship
commenced in 1804, after Mr Park had removed from Peebles to Fowl-
shiels, and was preparing for his second expedition to Africa, of which
he had then got intimation. It is pleasing to know the cordiality and
artectionate familiarity which subsisted between these celebrated men, and
also that it arose from a marked congeniality in their tastes and habits.^
Park was an enthusiastic lover of poetry, especially the minstrelsy with which
his native district was rife ; and although he made no pretensions to tlie
laurel crown himself, he occasionally gave expression to his feelings and
thoughts in verse, even from his earliest years. It was little wonder, then,
that lie should own a particular predilection for the society of one wliose heart
and memory were so richly stored with the ancient ballad lore of his country,
althougli his reserve towards strangers in general, which was carried even to a
repulsive degree, was notorious. In particular. Sir Walter Scott has noticed
the strong aversion of his friend to being questioned in a promiscuous company
on the subject of his adventures, of which grievance, as may be imagined, he
had frequent cause to complain.

The new mission to Africa, which was now sanctioned and pi'omoted by
government, had been projected so far back as 1801 ; but owing to changes
in the ministry, and other causes of delay, tlie preparations for it were
not completed till 1805. Mr Park parted from his family, and proceeded
to London with his brother-in-la>v, Mr James Anderson, who, as well as Mr
Scott, an artist, liad resolved to accompany him in his expedition. On this
occasion, Mr Park received the brevet commission of captain in Africa, and
a similar connnission of lieutenant to his relative Mr Anderson. BIr Scott
also was employed by government to accompany the expedition as draughts-
man. Mr Park was, at tlie same time, empowered to enlist soldiers from the
garrison of the island of Goree, to the number of forty-five, to accompany him
in liis journey ; and the sum of .£5000 was placed at his disposal, together with
directions as to his route, &c. The expedition sailed from Portsmouth on the
30th January, 1806, and arrived at Pisania on the 28th of April, where pre-
parations were immediately made for the inland journey. The party consisted
of forty men, two lieutenants, a draughtsman (Mr Scott), and Park himself;
they had horses for themselves, and asses for carrying the provisions and mer-
chandise. Mr Park wrote to several friends at home, previously to setting out,
in the highest spirits, and seemingly perfectly confident of success. In his letter
to Mr Dickson, he says, "this day six weeks, I expect to drink all your healths
in tile Niger ;" and again, " I have little doubt but that I shall be able, with
presents and fair words, to pass through the country to the Niger ; and if once
we are fairly afloat, tJte day is won." Alas ! how sadly these sanguine expres-
sions contrast with the melancholy issue of tlie expedition. Park's chance of
reaching the Niger in safety depended mainly upon his doing so previously to the
commencement of the rainy season, which is always most fatal to Europeans ;
but scarcely had they got half way when the rain set in, and the effect on the
health of the men was as speedy as disastrous. They were seized with vomit-
ing, sickness, dysentery, and delirium ; some died on the road, others were
drowned in the rivers, and several Avere left in the precarious chai-ge of the
natives in the villages. Some, still more unfortunate, were lost in the woods,
where they would inevitably be devoured by wild beasts ; while the native ban-
ditti, who imagined the caravan to contain immense wealth, hung upon their
1 llclianccd that they were born witliin a monlhof each other.

lOG MUNGO PARK.

iimroh, and plundered them at every opportunity. In crossing the Wondu, they
nearly lost their guide Isaaco, hy a lar<re crocodile, which ]»ullc(l hiiu below the
water several times, but Aoui wiiicii he at last got free, niucii lacerated. At an-
other time they were encountered by three lari;o lions, but which took to Hight
at the sound of 31 r TarU's niuskol. At last the miserable remnant of ihe party
— only nine out of forty-four, and these nine all si<:U, and some in a slate of
mental derangement — reached Uambakoo, on the Niger. Here .^Ir Scott was
left behind on account of sickness, of which he shortly died; whilo the rest pro-
ceeded to Sego, the capital of Bambarra, which they reached on ihe I'Jlh of
September. JMausong was still king, and was so highly gratified with the pre-
sents brought to him, that he gave them permission to build a boat, and pre*
mised to protect them as far as lay in his power. JMr Park forthwith opened a
shop for the sale of his European goods, which immediately obtained such de-
mand, that his shop was crowded with customers from morning till night, and
one day he turned over no less than 25,75G cowries. Here, however, he lost
his brother-in-law Mr Anderson, a circumstance which afflicted him greatly, and
made him feel, as he himself expressed it, " as if left a second time lonely and
friendless amidst the wilds of Africa." But not all the sullerings he had under-
gone, the loss of his companions, or the dismal condition of the remainder, and
the perilousnoss of his situation — nothing could damp the native ardour of his
mind. Having got a sort of schooner constructed and irigged out, he prepared
for setting out on his formidable journey, previously to which, however, he took
care to bring his journal up to the latest hour, and wrote several letters to his
friends and relatives in Britain. These were intrusted to his faithful guide
Isaaco, to carry back to the Cianibia, whence they were transmitted to lingland.
His letter to Mrs Park, excepting that part of it which mentions the death of
her brother and IMr Scott, was written in a cheering and hopeful strain ; speaks
with confidence of his reaching the ocean in safety, and of the probability of his
being in England before the letter itself! His companions were now reduced
to four, viz., lieutenant iMartyn and three soldiers, one of whom was deranged
in his mind ; and with this miserable remnant, and a guide named Amadi Fa-
touma, he set sail, as near as could be ascertained, on the 19th of November,
180G. The progress of the unfortunate travellers after this period, and their
ultimate fate, so long a mystery, are iTew familiarly known, although there are
many circumstances attending the unhappy closing scene which are yet shrouded
in doubt and uncertainty.

Vague rumours of the death of Park and his companions were brought by
some of the natives to the British settlements on the coast, even so early as the
end of 1806 ; but no information could be got for several yeai-s of a nature to
be at all relied on, during which tiiue the suspense of his friends and of the
public at large, but more particularly of his afflicted family, was of the most
painful nature. At length, in 1810, colonel JMaxwell, governor of Senegal,
despatched Isaaco, Park's former guide, into the interior, in order to ascertain
the truth or falsehood of the reports which prevailed. After an absence of a
year and eight months, this individual returned, and the many facts of the nar-
rative, which he gave as the result of his labours, are not only but too probable
in themselves, but seem to have been thoroughly confirmed by the investigations
of subsequent travellers. Isaaco stated, that he had fallen in with Mr Park's
guide, Amadi Fatouma, at Medina, near Sansnnding, who, on seeing Isaaco, and
hearing the name of Park, began to weep, saying, " they are all dead ;" and
was with great difficulty induced to detail the melancholy circumstances of the
catastrophe. The account which he gave is too long to be introduced entire here,
but the substance of it was as follows: — After leaving Sansanding, IMr Park navi-

MUNGO PARK. 107

gated his way down the Niger, as far as Boossa, inthe kingdom of Yaour, which
Avas more than two-thirds of the distance between the ocean, or Gulf of Guinea,
and where the river is termed by the natives Quorra. They had frequent skir-
mishes with the natives, particularly in passing Timbuctoo, where several of the
natives were killed. On reaching Yaour, Mr Park sent Amadi Fatouma ashore
with various presents, some of which were to the chief or governor of the place,
but the most valuable portion for the king, to whom the chief A^as requested to
send them. A short while after, the latter sent to inquire if Mr Park intended
to come back ; and on being answered that he could return no more, the
treacherous chief appropriated the presents intended for the king to his own
use. This piece of knavery proved fatal to the unfortunate travellers. The
king, indignant at the supposed slight cast on him, assembled a large army at
the above mentioned village of Boussa, where a large high rock stretches across
the whole breadth of the river, the only passage for the river being through an
opening in the rock in the form of a door. The army posted themselves on the
top of tlie rock, and on Mr Park's attempting to pass, assailed him with lances,
pikes, arrows, stones, and missiles of every description. The beleaguered tra-
vellers defended themselves for a long time, till all Avcre either killed or severe-
ly wounded; when, seeing the uselessness of further resistance, Mr Park, lieu-
tenant Martyn, and one or two more, jumped out of the boat, and were drowned
in attempting to get ashore. Only one slave was left alive. Such was the nar-
rative of Amadi Fatouma, who had left Mr Pai'k at Yaour, where his engage*
ment with him terminated, and where he was for many montlis afterwards con-
fined in irons on suspicion of having purloined the presents intended for tlie
king, which had been made away with by the treacherous chief. Amadi had
obtained the accounts of the fatal scene from those who had taken a part in it.
The natives afterwards endeavoured to account for the disappearance of Park,
to the inquiries of subsequent travellers, by saying that his vessel had foundered
against the rock, and that he and his companions were drowned by accident.
But there is now not the shadow of a doubt that the above nari-ative of Amadi
is substantially true.

So perished iMungo Park, in the thirty-fifth year of his age — a man whose
natural enthusiasm, scientific acquirements, undaunted intrepidity, patience of
suffering, and inflexible perseverance, in short, every quality requisite for a
traveller in the path he adopted, have never been surpassed, and who, had he
survived, would no doubt have reaped those laurels which more fortunate suc-
cessors in the same career have won. To these qualities in his public character,
it is pleasing to be able to add those of amiable simplicity of manners, constancy
of affection, and sterling integrity in private life.

Mr Park's papers were, Avilh the exception of a few scraps,^ unfortunately all
lost with him, and this is much to be regretted, as, notwithstanding the important
discoveries of the Landers, who subsequently traced the course of the Quorra or
Niger from Boussa, where Park fell, down to the Gulf of Guinea, they were un-

2 Tliese were, an old nautical publication (of wliich the title-page was amissing, and its
contents chiefly tables of logarithms), \y\\\\ a few loose memoranda of no importance between
the leaves. One of these papers, ho\Yever, was curious enough, from the situation and cir-
cumstances in which it was found. It was a card of invitation to dinner, and was in the fol-
lowing terms: —

"Mr and IMrs Watson would be happy to have the pleasure of Mr Park's company at
dinner on Tuesday next, at half-past five o'clock. An answer is requested.

" Strand, 9th Nov., 1804."

These were the only written documents belonging to Park which the Messrs Landers,
after the most anxious inquiries and investigations, were able to discover. They succeeded,
however, in recovering his double-barrelltd gun, and the tobe, or short cloak, which lie wore
when he was drowned.

lOS ^YILLIAM PATERSON.

able to explore a creat part of that immense portion of it which flo^-s between
Hoiissa and Timbuctoo, and wliicli I'ark must of iie(;cssity have navigated. Their
united labours have, however, solved llie grand proliieiii wiiieh lias engaged the
attention of all civilized nations from the earliest ages to ubich history leads us
back; and there seems little (viuso for doubt, that, in a short lime, the still
broken links in the great chain of communication w ilh the ceiiUo of Africa will
be united.

I'ATl'-KSON, William, the original projector of the banks of I']ngland and
of Scotland, and of the celebrated settlement of Darien, was born, it is supposed,
in the year IGGO at Skipmyre, in the parish of 'i'iiuvald, Uumfries-shire. It
is deeply to be regretted that no satisfactory menmrials have been preserved of
(his remarkable man. Of his education nothing is known, but it is slated in
one memoir that he was bred to the church, lie is also said to have repre-
sented the burgh of Uuml'ries more than once in the Scottish parliament; to
have gone out to the West Indies, in the character of a Christian missionary,
for the purpose of converting the negroes; and to have, while in that quarter,
joined the buccaneers, a gang of desperadoes who infested the shores of
America and the V.'est Indian islands, making prizes indiscriminately of the
ships of all nations ; and it is in this character he is said to have acquired that
intimate knowledge of the seas and coasts of America which led him to form the
splendid idea of a settlement at Darien, by which he meant to connect the seas
on the opposite sides of tlie globe, and to form a grand emporium of the produc-
tions of all the quarters of the eartii. That 3Ir Taterson, however, was either
a churcliman or a buccaneer at any period of .his life appears a gratuitous as-
sumption, unsupported by any direct evidence, and at variance with the known
course of his after life. It is certain, however, that he was in the West Indies,
but it is much more likely that his pursuits there were commercial tlian either
clerical or piratical. In whatever capacity he may have acquired his commercial
and geographical knowledge, he returned to Europe with a scheme of trade wholly
different from the methods and principles of any of the then trading companies
of England, and which he was desirous of establishing under the protection and
patronage of some European power, whi(!h might give greater privileges and
immunities than were consistent with the laws of England then in force. This
Bclienie he seems to have laid first before the merchants of Hamburg, afterwards
before the Dutch, and then before the elector of Brandenburg, who all, how-
ever, received his proposals coldly. Paterson next applied to the merchants of
London, and with them concerted the plan of the bank of England, of which
there seems no reason to doubt that he gave tl-.e first hint. As it has very
frequently happened, however, in similar cases, though he was admitted one
cf the original directors, his richer associates no sooner became fully possessed
of his ideas, than they found out pretexts for quarrelling with him, and finally
expelled him from all share in conducting that business of which he had been
the author. Under these circumstances, he became acquainted in London
with some of his countrymen, particularly Avith Fletcher of Salton, who had
penetration enough to see and to appreciate the simple splendour of his project
with regard to Darien, and patriotism enough to desire to secure the benefits of
it to his own country. Paterson had all the patriotism of Fletcher, without any
of that national partiality which, in the former, somewhat dimmed its lustre and
lessened its eti'ect ; but he was yet, from the manner in which he had already
been treated by all to whom he had communicated his plans, easily persuaded
to give the benefit of his conceptions to tiie country to which he owed his birtli,
and where he had as yet sufiered none of that painful mortification, of which he
had experienced less or more in all the places he had yet visited. He accord-

■WILLIAM PATERSON. 100

ingly came to Scotland along with Fletcher, who introduced him to the Scottish
administration, at the time greatly embarrassed by the affair of (ilencoe, and who
easily persuaded king William, that a little more freedom, and some new facili-
ties of trade would have a happy efl^ect in diverting the pul)lic attention from
the investigation of that unfortunate affiiir, in which his majesty's credit was al-
most as deeply implicated as their own. The earl of Stair, in particular, gave
the project of JMr Faterson the support of his powerful eloquence.

I'he result of all this was, tliat an act was passed by the Scottish parlia-
ment on the 26th of June, 1G95, " constituting John, lord Belhaven, Adam
Cockburn of Ormiston, lord justice-clerk, Francis Rlontgomery of Giften, Sir
John Blaxwell of Pollock, Sir Robert Ghiesly, present provost of Edinburgh,
John Swinton of that ilk, George Clark, late baillie of Edinburgh, Robert
Blackwood, and James Balfour, merchants in Edinburgh, John Corse, merchant
in Glasgow ; William Paterso.v, Esq., James Fowlis, David Nairn, Fsqrs., I'homas
Deans, Esq., James Chiesly, John Smith, Thomas Coutes, Hugh Fiazer, Joseph
Cohaine, Daves Ovedo, and Walter Stuart, merchants in London, with such
othei-s as shall join with them within the space of twelve months after the first
day of August next, and all others Avhom the foresaid persons, and those joined,
or luajor part of them, being assembled, shall admit, and join into their joint-
stock and trade, who shall all be repute as if herein originally insert, to be one
body incorporate, and a free incorporation, witli perpetual succession, by the
name of the Company of Scotland trading to Africa and the Indies. Providing
always, like as it is hereby in the first place provided, that of tlie fund or capital
stock that shall be agreed to be advanced, and employed by the said under-
takers, and their copartners, the half at least shall be appointed and allotted for
Scottishmen within this kingdom, who shall enter and subscribe to the said com-
pany before the first day of August, 1696. And if it shall happen, that Scots-
men living within the kingdom, shall not, betwixt and the foresaid term, sub'^
scribe for, and make up the equal half of the said fund or capital stock, then,
and in that case allenarly, it shall be, and is hereby allowed to Scotsmen resid-
ing abroad, or to foreigners, to come in, subscribe, and be assumed for the
superplus of the said half, and no otherwise." By the same act the lowest
subscription was fixed at one hundred pounds sterling, and the highest at three
thousand. The shares of Scotsmen, too, it was provided could be sold, and
alienated only to Scotsmen. The company was also vested with full powers to
hold parliaments, make laws, and administer justice, &c., in any colonies they
might plant ; enter into treaties of peace and connnerce with sovereigns,
princes, estates, rulers, governors, or proprietors of lands in Asia, Africa, and
America ; all their ships being bound, under penalty of confiscation, to I'eturn
with their cargoes in the first instance to this country, without breaking bulk by
the way. They had also the exclusive pi'ivilege of trading to Asia, Africa, and
America, for the period of thirty-one years ; together with the free and absolute
right of property to all lands, islands, colonies, cities, towns, ports, and plantations
they might come to establish or possess ; paying yearly to his majesty, and his suc-
cessors in sovereignty, one hogshead of tobacco in name of blench duty, if required.
Tiiey had also the power of purchasing, for the enlargement of their trade and
navigation, from foreign potentates, such exceptions, liberties, privileges, &rc., as
they might find convenient. Their ships were also exempted from all customs,
cesses, and supplies, and their stock in trade from all taxes for the space of
twenty-one years. All persons concerned in the company were declared deni-
zens of the kingdom, and all persons settling in any of their colonies, cities,
&c. , were to be reputed natives of the kingdom, and enjoy privileges accordingly.
This act, of which the above are some of the outlines, was drawn up under the

110 AMLLIAM PATERSON.

eye of Mr Paterson, and was certainly highly favourable for his purposes. The
islliiniisof Daricn, wliere tiiere was a lar2;e tract of land bordering on both soas
the Indian and tlie Atlantic, uhidi had never been in possession of any Kiiro-
poan nation, was the spot he had fixcil upon for the scene of his operations, and
the advantMges of wiiidi he thus grapliically pointed out: "The time and ex-
pense of navip;ation to <'liina, Japan, the Spice Islands, and the far greater part
of tlie I'ast Indies, will bo lessened more than half, aiul the consumption of
European coinuioditics and manufactures, Aviil soon be more than doubled.
Trade will increase trade, and money will beget money, and the trading world
shall need no more want work for their hands, but will rather want hands for
their work. Thus, this door of the seas, and key of the universe, with any
thing- of a reasonable management, will, of course, enable its proprietors to give
laws to both oceans, without being liable to the fatigues, expenses, and dangers,
or contracting the guilt and blood, of Alexander and C\'Bsnr. In all our empires
that have been any thing universal, the conquerors have been obliged to seek
out and court their conquests from afar, but the universal force and influence of
this attractive magnet is such as can nmch more effectually bring empire home to
the proprietors' doors. But from what hath been said, you may easily perceive,
that the nature of these discoveries are stich as not to be engrossed by any one
nation or people with exclusion to others; nor can it be thus attempted with-
out evident hazard and ruin, as we may see in the case of Spain and Portugal,
who, by their prohibiting any other people to trade, or so much as to go to or
dwell in the Indies, have not only lost that trade they were not able to maintain,
but have depopulated and ruined their countries therewith, so that the Indies
have rather conquered Spain and Portugal than they have conquered the
Indies; for by their permitting all to go out, and none to come in, they have
not only lost the people which are gone to the remote and luxuriant regions, but
such as remain are become wholly unprofitable, and good for nothing. Thus,
not unlike the case of the dog in the fable, they have lost their own countries,
and not gotten the Indies. People, and their industry, are the true riches of a
prince or nation, and in respect to them all other things are but imaginary. This
was well understood by the people of Rome, who, contrary to the maxims of
Sparta and Spain, by general naturalizations, liberty of conscience, and immuni-
ties of government, far more effectually and advantageously conquered and kept
the world than ever they did or possibly could have done by the sword." Seeing
clearly his way, Mr Paterson seems not to have had the smallest suspicion but that
others would see it also, and " he makes no doubt, but that the affection we owe
to our sister nation will incline the company to be zealous in using all becoming
endeavours for bringing our fellow subjects to be jointly concerned in this great,
extensive, and advantageous undertaking. That a proposal of this kind from
the company will be other than acceptable ought not to be supposed, since by
this means the consumption and demand of English manufactures, and conse-
quently the employment of their people, will soon be more tlian doubled.
England Avill be hereby enabled to become the long desired sea port, and yet
its public revenues, instead of being diminished, w ill thereby be greatly increased.
By this their nation will at once be eased of its laws of restraint and prohibi*
tions, which, instead of being encouragements, always have, and still continue to
be, the greatest lets to its trade and happiness." These liberal views seem to have
made a greater impression on the public mind than at that time could have been
anticipated. In the month of October, 1G95, lord Belhaven, Mr Robert
Blackwood, and ]Mr James ]3alfour, went on a deputation to London, accompanied
by Mr Paterson, where the subscription books were first opened, and in the
course of nine days three hundred thousand pounds were subscribed ; one-fourth

WILLIAM PATBRSON. Ill

of all subscriptions being paid in cash. This promising state of thinfrs, how-
ever, was by the jealousy of the English monopolists suddenly reversed. The
East India company were the first to take the alarm, and they communicated
their terrors to the house of lords. The latter requested a conference with the
commons on the alarming circumstance, and a committee was appointed to in-
quire by what methods such an act had been obtained, who were the promoters,
and who had become subscribers to the company. This was followed by an
address to the king from both houses of parliament, stating, " That by reason
of the superior advantages granted to the Scottish East India company, and the
duties imposed upon the Indian trade in England, a great part of the stock and
shipping of this nation would be carried thither, by which means Scotland
would be rendered a free port, and Europe from thence supplied with the pro-
ducts of the East much cheaper than through them, and thus a great article in
the balance of foreign commerce would be lost to England, to the prejudice of
the national navigation and the royal revenue." The address went on to state,
" that when the Scots should have established themselves in plantations in
America, the western branch of traffic would also be lost. Tiie privileges
granted their company would render their country the general storehouse for
tobacco, sugar, cotton, hides, and timber ; the low rates at \^hich they would be
enabled to carry on their manufactures, would render it impossible for the Eng-
lish to compete with them, while, in addition, his majesty stood engaged to
protect, by the naval strength of England, a company whose success was incom-
patible with its existence." This address his majesty received graciously, ob-
serving, " that he had been ill-served in Scotland, but he hoped some remedy
might yet be found to prevent the inconvenience that might arise from the act.''
To satisfy his English parliament that he was in earnest, William dismissed his
Scottish ministers, and among the rest the earl of Stair.

The English parliament, with a spirit worthy of the darkest ages, and the
most barbarous nations, proceeded to declare lord Eelhaven, William Pater-
son, and the other members of the deputation guilty of a high crime and mis-
demeanour, for administering in that kingdom the oath de fideli to a foreign as-
sociation. Those of their own people \vho had become partners in tlie company
were threatened with an impeachment, and were by this means compelled to
withdraw their subscriptions. Upwards of two hundred thousand pounds
sterling had been subscribed to the scheme by the merchants of Holland and
Hamburg, and the English resident at the latter city. Sir Paul Eycault, was
instructed to present a remonstrance on the part of the king, to the magistrates,
complaining of the countenance they had given to the commissioners of the
Uarien company, who had formed, and were prosecuting a plan fraught with
many evils ; a plan which his majesty did not intend to support, and from
Avhich, if the Hamburgers did not withdraw their aid, they might be prepared
for an interruption of that kindly feeling, and those good offices, that it was
the wish of his majesty to cultivate and to exercise to\vards them. The answer
of the city was worthy of itself in its best days. " They considered it strange,
that the king of England should dictate to them, a free people, how, or with
whom they Avere to engage in the ai-rangements of commerce, and still more so,
that they should be blamed for offering to connect themselves in this way with
a body of his own subjects incoi'porated under a special act of parliament."
From this interference, however, the Hamburgers, aware that the company was
to be thwarted in all its proceedings by the superior power of England, lost
confidence in the scheme, and finally withdrew tlieir subscriptions. The Dutch,
too, equally jealous of commercial rivalry with the English, and influenced per-
haps by the same motives with the Hamburgers, withdrew their subscriptions

112 TVILLTAM PATERSON.

also, and the company was left to the unassistod resources of their own poor and
I di'iircbscd country. 'I'lie enqerness \\itli uliich llie schciiiu liad been i)a(roni2Gd
I abroad by wealtliy individuals, and llie l)itterness of liio opimsiliitn directed
I against it by tlie govcrmiient of Juinland ofjually tended to give it iiiiporlance in
I I the eyes of Scotsmen, and tliey determined lo go on witli such means as tliey
I I could «;onniiand, secure of al>undant support when the jiractic.ability of tlie j)lnii
1 j should be demonstrated, 'llie books lor subscription were not opened in dlas-
ij gow and I'.dinburgh till the month of I'ebruary, lli'JIi, and they were n(jt tilled
Uj) till the month of August, when, owing to the interfurence of the linglish, and
the consequent withdrawal of the foreign partners, another hundred thousand
pounds sterling Avas shared in Scotland fourteen months after the j)assing of the
act. Nothing could exceed the eagerness with which all classes of the Scottish
people hastened to enroll theniselves in the magiiificent copartnery now form-
ing. Every burgh, every city, and almost every family of any consequence be-
came shareholders. Four hundred thousand pounds were subscribed ; an aston-
ishing sum when it is known, that at that time the circulating capital of the
kingdom did not exceed eight hundred thousand pounds sterling. To this
enthusiasm a variety of causes contributed. The scheme of Paterson ivas politi-
cally good. It was drawn up with great ability, and promised important results
in a moral and religious, as well as in a commercial point of view. Many of the
subscribers, indeed, were influenced solely by religious motives, as they con-
sidered tlie setting up of a church, regularly constituted, on that continent, the
most likely means for spreading the gospel among the natives, and as aflbrding
facilities for that purpose whidi could not in any other way be obtained. But
it nuist also be admitted, that the scheme, having become a national mania, was
not left to work its way by its own intrinsic merits. The scene of the intended
operations became the subject of numberless pamphlets, wherein fancy was much
more largely employed than fact. The soil was represented as rich, and teem-
ing with the most luxuriant fertility ; the rivers, as full of fish, and tlieir sands
sparkling with gold; the woods smiling in perpetual verdure, at all times
ringing with tlie melody of spring, and loading every breeze that swept over
them with the most delightful odours.

Having completed their preparations, and the public authorities having as-
sured them of protection and encouragement, the colony, in presence of the
whole city of Edinburgh, which poured out its inhabitants to witness the scene,
embarked ; Mr Faterson going first on board at Leitli, from the roads of
wliicli they sailed on the 20th of July, 1698. The fleet consisted of five
ships purchased at Hamburg or Holland — for they were refused even the
trilling accommodation of a ship of Avar which was laid up at Bruntisland— -and
were named the Caledonia, St Andrew, Unicorn, Dolphin, and Endeavour ; the
two last being yachts laden with provisions and military stores. The colony
consisted of twelve hundred men ; three hundred of them being young men of
the best Scottish families. Among them were also sixty officers who had been
throvai out cf employinont by the peace which had just been concluded, and who
carried along Avith them the troops they had commanded ; all of whom were
men who had been raised on their own estates, or on those of their relations.
Many soldiers and sailors, whose services had been refused — for many more
than could be employed had olfered themselves — were found hid in the ships, and
when ordered ashore, clung to the ropes imploring to be allo\ved to go with
their countrymen without fee or reward. Ihe whole sailed amidst the praises,
the prayers, and the tears of relations, friends, and countrymen ; " and neigh-
bouring nations,'' says Ualrymple, " saw with a mixture ol' surprise ai:d respect
the poorest nation of Europe sending forth the most gallant colony wliicli had ever

WILLIAM PATERSON. 113

gone from the old to the new world." The parliament of Scotland met in the
same week that the expedition for Darien sailed, and on the 5th of August
they presented a unanimous address to the king, requesting that he would bo
pleased to support the company. The lord president. Sir Hugh Dalrymple,
and Sir James Stuart, lord advocate, also drew out memorials to the king in
behalf of the company, in which they proved their rights to be irrefragable on
the principles botli of constitutional and public law. All this, however, did not
prevent orders being sent out by the English ministry to all the English govei'-
nors in America and the West Indies, to withhold all supplies from the Scottish
colony at Darien, and to have no manner of communication with it either in one
shape or another. Meanwhile, the colony proceeded on its voyage M-ithout any
tiling remarkable occurring, and on the 3d of November landed between
Portobella and Carthagena at a place called Acta, where tliere was an excellent
harbour, about four miles from Golden island. Having obtained the sanction of
the natives to settle among them, they proceeded to cut through a peninsula, by
A\hich they obtained what they conceived to be a favourable site for a city, and
they accordingly began to build one under the name of New Edinburgh. They
also constructed a fort in a commanding situation for the protection of the town
and the harbour, which they named St Andrew ; and on the country itself they
imposed the name of Caledonia. The first care of the council, which had been
appointed by the company, and of which Mr Paterson was one of the chief, was
to establish a friendly correspondence with the native chiefs, which they found
no difficulty in doing. To the Spanish authorities at Carthagena and Panama,
they also sent friendly deputations, stating their desire to live with them upon
terms of amity and reciprocal intercourse. On the 28th of December,
1 698, the council issued a proclamation dated at New Edinburgh, to the follow-
ing effect: — " We do hereby" publish and declare. That all manner of persons, of
what nation or people soever, are and shall from hence forward be equally free,
and alike capable of the said properties, privileges, protections, immunities, and
riglits of government, granted unto us ; and the merchants and merchant ships
of all nations may freely come to and trade with us without being liable in their
persons or goods to any manner of capture, confiscation, seizure, forfeiture, at-
tachment, arrest, restraint, or prohibition for, or by reason of any embargo, breach
of the peace, letters of marque, or reprisals, declaration of war with any foreign
prince, potentate, or state, or upon any other account or pretence whatsoever.
And we do hereby not only grant, concede, and declare, a general and equal
freedom of government and trade to those of all nations who shall hereafter be
of or concerned with us; but also, a full and free liberty of conscience in mat'
ters of religion, so as the same be not understood to allow, connive at, or in-
dulge, the blaspheming of God's holy name, or any of his divine attributes, cr of
the unhallowing or profaning the Sabbath day ; and, finally, as the best and
surest means to render any government successful, durable, and happy, it shall,
by the help of Almighty God, be ever our constant and chiefest care, that all
our further constitutions, laws, and ordinances be consonant and agreeable to
the holy Scriptures, right reason, -flnd the examples of the wisest and justest na-
tions ; that from the righteousness thereof we may reasonably hope for and ex-
pect the blessings of prosperity and increase." So far all was well, but the want
of a leading spirit, of one who could overawe the refractory, and of summary
laws for their punishment, soon began to be felt ; Mr Paterson was too modest
a man himself to assume sucli a position, and the event showed that he had
trusted too much to the constancy and good sense of others. After all his ex-
pense of time and trouble of contrivance, he seems to have reserved nothing for
himself above the meanest councillor upon the list. In the original articles of

114 ^TILLIAM PATERSON.

tlio company il had been agreed, tliat ho slioiild bo aUowed two j)er cent, on the
stock, and llircc per ceuL on tlio profits, but lie had given up Ijotii these claims
lon^ before leaving Scotland. " It was not," ho said, *' 8osi»icion of tlic justice
or gratitude of tiie company, nor a consciousness that his services could ever be-
come useless to tliem, but the ingratitude of some indiviiluals experienced in
life, which made it .1 matter of common prudence in liim to ask a retriijution for
six years of his time, and ton thousand pounds spent in promoliiig tlie establish-
ment of tiio company. But now," he continues, "that 1 see it standing upon
the autliurity of parliament, and supported by so many great and good men, I
release all claim to that retribution ; happy in the noble concession made to me,
but happier in the return which I now make for it." With the same simplicity
and generosity of character which led him to relinquish the pecuniai'y advan-
tages he had secured for himself, he relinquished all claim to any superiority in
tlio direction of the colony, which was intrusted to men evidently but of ordinary
capacity, and under regulations which supposed the persons composing it to be
men of better tempers, and greater self-command, than they really were. The
whole management was vested in a council of seven, under regulations, the fifth
of which ran thug — *' Tliat after their landing and settlement as aforesaid, they,
the council, shall class and divide the whole freemen inhabitants of the said
colony into districts, each district to contain at least fifty, and not exceeding
sixty freemen inhabitants, who shall elect yearly any one freeman inhabitant
whom they shall think fit to represent them in a parliament or council general
of the said colony, which parliament shall be called or adjourned by the said
council as they see cause : and being so constitute, may, with consent of the
said council, make and enact such rules, ordinances, and constitutions, and im-
pose such taxes as they think fit and needful for the good of the establishment, im-
provement and support of the said colony ; providing alway, that they lay no fur-
ther duties or impositions of trade than what is after stated." This parliament was
accordingly called, and held at least two sessions. During the first session, in
the month of April, 1G99, it enacted thirty-four statutes for the regulation of
civil and criminal justice in the colony. This is a curious document, and in
several items bears strong marks of the liberal spirit and philosophic mind of
Paterson. It discovers a marked regard to personal liberty, and great jealousy
of its infraction. Violation of women is declared a crime to be punished with
death, though the women should belong to an enemy ; and to plunder Indians
is rated as common theft. No man was to be confined more than three months
before being brought to trial, and in all criminal cases no judgment was to pass
without the consent and concurrence of a jury of fifteen persons. No freeman
could be subjected to any restraint for debt unless there should be fraud, or the
design thereof, or wilful or apparent breach of trust, misapplication, or con-
cealment first proved upon him. One of the councillors, writing at this time to
the directors at home, says, " we found the inconvenience of calling a parlia-
ment, and of telling the inhabitants that they were freemen so soon. They had
not the true notion of liberty. The thoughts of it made them insolent, and
ruined command. You know that it's expressly in the ' Encouragements,' that
they ai-e to sei-ve for three years, and at the three years' end to have a division
of land." It was the opinion of this director, that no parliament should have
been called till at least the three years of servitude had expired. Even tlien,
from the character of the settlers, who had not been selected with that care
which an experiment of such vast consequence demanded, there might have ex-
isted causes for delaying the escape. Among the better class, there were too
many young men of birth. These were inexperienced and wholly unfit for ex-
ercising authority, and equally ill adapted for submitting to it. Among the

•WILLIAM PATERSON. 115

lower class were many who had been opposed to the Revolution, and who had
resorted to the colony purely from dissatisfaction with the government at home.
These, instead of submitting with patience to the privations and labour necessary
in that state of society in which they were now placed, would gladly liave laid
aside the mattock and the axe, and have employed themselves in plunderinor in-
cursions upon the Indians or the Spaniards. The subscribers to the scheme
were so numerous, that the idle, the unprincipled, and profligate had found but
too little difficulty in attaching themselves to the infant colony. Those
who were nominated to the council, too, had been selected witliout judg-
ment ; and it was not till after a violent struggle, that Paterson could pre-
vail on his colleagues to exercise their authority. " There was not," he writes
in a letter to Mr Shields, " one of the old council fitted for government, and
things were gone too far before the new took place."

Mr Paterson, \vhen he first established his colony, had taken the precaution
to land his people at the beginning of winter, the best season for Europeans
first encountering the climate of Uarien ; and the first letter from the council
to the directors thus expresses the satisfaction of the colonists with their new

destination : " As to the country, we find it very healthful : for, though we

arrived here in the rainy season, from which we had little or no shelter for
several weeks together, and many sick among us, yet we ai-e so far recovered,
and in so good a state of health, as could hardly anywhere be expected among
such a number of men together. In fruitfulness, this country seems not to give
place to any in the world ; for we have seen several of the fruits, as cocoa nuts,
barillas, sugar eines, maize, oranges, &c. &c., all of them, in their kinds, the
best anywhere to be found. Nay, there is hardly a foot of ground but may be
cultivated ; for even upon the very tops and sides of the hills, there is commonly
three or four feet deep of rich earth, without so much as a stone to be found
therein. Here is good hunting, and fowling, and excellent fishing in the baj-s
and creeks of the coast ; so that, could we improve the season of the year just
now begun, we should soon be able to subsist of ourselves ; but building and
fortifying will lose us a whole year's planting." This was, however, no nioi-e
than all of them must have foreseen ; and they never doubted of obtaining more
provisions than they could want, from the West India islands, or from the
American colonies. Orders, however, as has already been noticed, were sent
out after them to all the English governors, prohibiting all communication with
them. These proclamations were rigidly adhered to, and the unfortunate Scot-
tish colonists were denied those supplies which had seldom been withheld from
lawless smugglers, buccaneers, and pirates. In addition to this, which was the
principal source of all their misfortunes, those who superintended the equipment
of the expedition, had, through carelessness or design, furnished them with pro-
visions, part of which were uneatable ; the consequence of which was, that the
colony had to be put on short allowance, when the sickly season was thinning
their numbers, and bringing additional duty on those who were in health. In
this emergency, their Indian friends «xerted themselves on their behalf, putting
to shame their Christian brethren, who, from a mean jealousy, were attempting
to starve them ; and they might still have done better, had not insubordination
broken out among themselves, and a conspiracy been formed, in which some of
tlie council were implicated, to seize one of the vessels, and to make their
escape fi'om the colony. After matters had come this length, Paterson succeeded
in assuming new councillors ; a measure which had the effect of checking the
turbulence of the discontented. The new council also despatched one of their own
number to Britain, with an address to the king, and a pressing request to send
them out supplies of provisions, ammunition, and men. On receiving this des-

IIG WILLIAM PATERSON.

paloli, the directors lost no time in sending out the reijuisite siijudies. They had
aire at! y sent despatches and provisions by a hrij^, ^^hicil sailed liotn the Clyde in
the end of February, Ici'J'J, but whicii uidiappily never reached her destination.
On the arrival in Ihitain ot" another ot" liieir nmuber, IMr lianiilton, A\ho was ac-
countant-general to the colony, and whose absence ^vas highly detrinienUil to its
interests, the Olive Branch, ciptain Jauiieson, and another vessel, wiih three
hundred recruits and store of provisions, arms and aiinnuniiion, were despatched
from l.eitli roads on the 12th of 3Liy, I(i9'J. blatters in the colony were in
the mean time getting woi-se ; and on the 22nd of June, they came to tiio reso-
lution of abandoning the place within eight months of the time they had taken
possession of it. The unfortunate projector himself was at the time on board
the Union, whither he had been conveyed some days before in a fever, brought
on by anxiety and grief for the weakness of his colleagues, and the frus-
tration of those hopes which he had so sanguinely cherished, and whicli he
had found so nearly realized. The depression of his spirits continued long
after tlic fever had left him ; and while ho was at Boston in the month of Sep-
tember following, one of his friends writes concerning him : — " Grief has
broke 3Ir Paterson's heart and turned his brain, and now he's a child; they
may do what they like for him." He, however, recovered the full powers oi
his mind at New York, whence he returned to Scotland, to make his report to
the company, and give them his best advice regarding the further prosecution
of their undertaking. Two of their captains, Samuel Veitch and Thomas DiTim-
niond, i-emained at New York, to be ready to join the colony, should it be
again revived. The Olive Branch, the vessel alluded to as having gone out to
the colony with recruits and provisions, was followed by a licet of four ships,
the Rising Sun, Hope, Duke Hamilton, and Hope of Borrowstonness, with
thirteen hundred men. These ships all sailed from the Isle of Bute, on the
21)th of September, 169D, and reached Caledonia Bay on the 30th of November
following. With this fleet went out William Veitch, son of the reverend Wil-
liam Veitch of Dumfries, and brother to Samuel already mentioned. This per-
son went out in the double capacity of a captain and a councillor. Individuals
were also sent out by various conveyances, with bills of credit for the use of the
colony. Everything now, however, went against them. The Olive Branch
and her consort having arrived in the harbour of New Edinburgh, the recruits
determined to land, and repossess themselves of the place, the huts of which
they found burnt down, and totally deserted. One of their ships, however, took
fire, and was burnt in the harbour, on which the others set sail for Jamaica.
When the lleet which followed arrived in November, and, instead of a colony
ready to receive them, found the huts burnt down, the fort dismantled, and the
ground which had been cleax-ed, overgrown with shrubs and weeds, with all the
tools and implements of husbandry taken away, they were at a loss what to do. A
general cry was raised in the ships to be conducted home, which was encouraged
by 3Ir James Byres, one of the new councillors, who seems to have been himself
deeply impressed with that dejection of spirit which, as a councillor, it ^vas his
duty to suppress. Veitch, however, assisted by captain Thomas Drummond,
who had come out in the Olive Branch, and had taken up his residence among
the natives till the fleet which he expected should arrive, succeeded in persuading
the men to land. As the Spaniards had already shown their hostility, and,
having been defeated by a detachment of the colonists in the preceding Fe-
bruary, were preparing for another attack ; encouraged, no doubt, by the treat-
ment which the colony had met Avith from the English government; Drunnnond
proposed an immediate attack on Portobella, which they could easily have re-
duced, and where they might have been supplied with such things as tliey were

WILLIAM PATERSOX. 117

most in want of. In this he was cordially seconded by Veitch, but \vas pre-
vented by the timidity of his colleagues, and the intrigues of Byres, who at
length succeeded in ejecting him from the council. Two ministers, IMessrs
James and Scott, went out with the first expedition, but the one died on the
passage, and the other shortly after landing in New Caledonia. The council
having written home to tlie directors, regretting the death of their ministers,
and begging that others might be sent to supply their place, the commission of
the General Assembly of the church of Scotland, at the particular desire of the
board of directors, sent out the reverend Messrs Alexander Shields, (the well-
known author of the " Hind let Loose," "Life of Ren wick," &c.,) Borland, Stobo,
and Dalgliesh. These persons sailed in the last fleet. They were instructed,
on their arrival, with the advice and concurrence of the government, to set
apart a day for solemn thanksgiving, to form themselves into a presbytery,
to ordain eldei's and deacons, and to divide the colony into parishes, that thus
each minister might have a particular charge. After which it was i-ecommended
to them, " so soon as they should find the colony in case for it, to assemble the
whole Christian inhabitants, and keep a day together for solemn prayer and
fasting, and with the greatest solemnity and seriousness to avouch the Lord to
be their God, and dedicate themselves and the land to the Lord." The church
of Scotland took so deep an interest in the colony of Darien, that the commis-
sion sent a particular admonition by the ministers, of which the following may
be taken as a specimen : — " We shall, in the next place, particularly address
ourselves to you that are in military charge and have command over the sol-
diery, whether by land or sea. It is on you, honoured and worthy gentlemen,
that a great share of the burden of the public safety lies. You are, in some re-
spects, both the hands and the eyes of this infant colony. Many of you have
lately been engaged in a just and glorious war, for retrieving and defending the
protestant religion, the liberties and rights of your country, under the conduct
of a matchless prince. And, now, when, through the blessing of the Lord of
hosts, his and your arms have procured an honourable peace at home ; you, and
others with you, have, with much bravery, embarked yourselves in a gi-eat, gene-
rous, and just undertaking, in the remote parts of the earth, for advancing the
honour and interest of your native country. If in this you acquit youi'selves like
men and Christians, your fame will be renowned both abroad and at home." The
ministers found the colony in circumstances very different from what the address
of the commission naturally supposed ; and it was but few of their instructions
they were able to carry into effect. Two of them, however, preached on land,
and one on board the Rising Sun, every Sabbath-day. But, in addition to the
unfavourable aspect of their affairs, the irreligion and licentiousness of the
colonists, oppressed their spirits and paralyzed their eftbrts. With the view of
forming an acquaintance with the natives, they undertook a journey into the
interior, accompanied by a lieutenant TurnbuU, who had some slight knowledge
of the Indian language. They spent several nights in the cabins of the natives,
by whom they were received with great kindness; and on tlieir return, brought
back to the colonists the first notice of the approach of the Spaniards. When
apprized of all the circumstances, the directors felt highly indignant at the
conduct of those who, upon such slight grounds, had left the settlement deso-
late ; and whose glory, they said, it ought to have been to have perished there,
rather than to have abandoned it so shamefully. In their letters to their new
councillors and ofiicers, they implored them to keep the example of their pre-
decessors before their eyes as a beacon, and to avoid those ruinous dissensions
and shameful vices, on Avhich they had wrecked so hopeful an enterprise. " It
is a lasting disgrace," tliey add, " to the memories of those officers who Ment

118 WILLIAM PATERSOX.

in tlic first expedition, that oven the meanest plnntors were scandalized at the
licentiousness of their lives, many of them living very intempcrately and viciou-^ly
for many months at the public charge, whilst the sober and industrious among
thorn were vigilant in doing their duty. Nor can we, upon serious reflection,
wonder if an enterprise of tliis nature has misgiven in the hands of such as, we
have too much reason to believe, neither feared God nor regarded man."
They iilso blamed the old council heavily for deserting the i>lace, without
ever calling a parliament, or general meeting of the colony, or in any Avay con-
siiltin"- their inclinations, but commanding them to a blind and iniplirit obedi-
ence, A\hicli is more than they ever can be answerable for. " \\ herefore,"
they continue, " we desire you would constitute a parliament, whose advice you
are to take in all important matters. And in the mean time you are to acquaint
the officei-s and planters with the constitutions, and tiie few additional ones sent
with Blr ^Mackay, that all and every person in the colony may know their duty,
advantao-es, and privileges." Alarmed by the accounts which they soon after re-
ceived from Darien, the council-general of the company despatched a proclama-
tion, declaring " that it shall be lawful to any person of wiiatever degree inhabit-
ing the colony, not only to protest against, but to disobey, and oppose any re-
solution to desert the colony ;" and, " that it shall be death, either publicly or
privately, to move, deliberate, or reason upon any such desertion or surrender,
without special order from the council-general for that effect. And they order
and require the council of Caledonia to proclaim this solemnly, as they shall be
answerable." Before this act was passed in Edinburgh, however. New Cale-
donia was once more evacuated. The men had set busily to the rebuilding the
huts, and repairing the fort ; but strenuous efforts were still made in the council
to discourage them, by those who wished to evacuate the settlement. Vertch
was with difficulty allowed to protest against some of their resolutions; and for
opposing them with warmtli, captain Drummond was laid under arrest. Speak-
ing of Drummond, Mr Shields says, " Under God, it is owing to him, and the
prudence of captain Veitch, that we have staid here so long, which was no small
difficulty to accomplish." A.nd again, " If we had not met with Drummond at
our arrival, we had never settled in this place. Byres and Lindsay being averse from
it, and designing to discourage it from the very first; Gibson being indifferent,
if he got his pipe and dram : only Veitch remained resolved to promote it, wlio
was all along Drummond's friend, and concurred with his proposal to send men
against the Spaniards at first, and took the patronizing as long as he could
conveniently, but with such caution and prudence, as to avoid and prevent ani-
mosity and faction, which he saw were unavoidable, threatening the speedier dis-
solution of this interest, if he should insist on the prosecution of that plea, and
in opposition to that spate that was running against Drummond. But now
Finab cominn-, ^vho was Drummond's comrade and fellow officer in Lome's
regiment in Flanders, he is set at liberty." This was colonel Campbell of
Finab who with three hundred of his own men, had come out and joined this
last party about two months after their an-ival. The Spanish troops meantime
from Panama and Santa Maria, conducted through the woods by negroes, \vere
approaching them. They had advanced, to the number of sixteen hundred
men, as far as Tubucantee, in the immediate neighbourhood of the colony, when
Finab marched against them with two hundred men, and defeated them in a
slioht skirmish, in which he was wounded. The victory, which at one time
would have been of signal service to the colony, was now unavailing; a fleet of
eleven ships, under the command of the governor of Cnrthagena, Don Juan
Pimienta, having blocked up the harbour, and landed a number of troops, who,
advancing alon<r with the party whicli had found tl'.eir way through the ivoods,

WILLIAM PATEKSON. 119

invested the fort. Cut off from water, reduced by sickness, and otherwise dis-
piiited, the garrison Mas loud in its demands for a capitulation, and the council
had no other alternative but to comply \Yith it. Finab being L-iid up at the
time with a fever, Veitch conducted the treaty, and was allowed honourable
terms. The inhabitants of the colony having gone on shipboard, with all that
belonged to them, they weighed anchor on the 11th of April, 1700, and
sailed for Jamaica, after having occupied New Caledonia somewhat more than
four montlis. The Hope, on board of which was captain Veitch, and the
greater part of the property, \ns wrecked on the rocks of Colorades, on the
western coast of Cuba. Veitch, however, was dead before this accident hap-
pened. The Rising Sun was wrecked on the bar of Carolina, and the captain
and crew, with the exception of sixteen persons who had previously landed,
were lost. Of the few survivors, some remained in the English settlements,
some died in Spanish prisons; and of the three thousand men that at different
periods Avent out to the settlement, perhaps not above twenty ever regained their
native land.

In this melancholy manner terminated the only attempt at colonization ever
made by Scotland. That it was an attempt far beyond the means of the nation,
must be admitted. The conception, however, was splendid, the promise great,
and every way worthy of the experiment ; and but for the jealousy of the Eng-
lish and the Dutch, more particularly the former, might possibly have succeeded.
The settlers, indeed, were not well selected ; the principles attempted to be act-
ed on, were theoretic, and too refined for the elements upon which they were
to operate ; and, above all, the council were men of feeble minds, utterly un-
qualified to act in a situation of such difiiculty as that in which they came to be
placed. Had the wants of the Scottish settlers been supplied by the English
colonies, which they could very well have been, even with advantage to the
colonies, the first and most fatal disunion, and abandonment of their station,
could not have happened; and had they been acknowledged by their sovereign,
the attack made upon them by the Spaniards, which put an end to the colony,
would never have been made. Time would have smoothed down the asperities
among the settlers themselves ; experience would have corrected their errors in
legislation ; and New Caledonia, which remains to this day a wilderness, might
have become the emporium of half the commerce of the world.

Sir Paterson, not disheartened by the failure of his Darien project, instead of
repining, revived the scheme in a form that he supposed might be less startling,
and which might induce England, whose hostility had hitherto thwarted all
his measures, to become the principals in the undertaking, reserving only one-
fifth part for Scotland. The controversy between the nations, however, was
now running too high, and the ill blood of both was too hot to admit of any
thing of the kind being listened to.

Mr Paterson, though he was pitied, and must have been respected, was almost
entirely neglected, and died at an advanced age in poor circumstances. After
the Union, he claimed upon the Equivalent Bloney for the losses he had sustained
at Darien, and none of the proprietors certainly had a fairer claim. But he
never received one farthing. Had Paterson's scheme succeeded, and it was
no fault of his that it did not, his name had unquestionably been enrolled
among the most illustrious benefactors of his species ; and if we examine his
character in the light of true philosophy, we shall find it greatly heightened
by his failure. Though defrauded of tlie honour due to him in the forma-
tion of the Bank of England, by persons, as has been well said, *'as inferior
to him in genius, as they were in generosity," we never hear from him a
single murmur. When disappointed or defeated, he did not give way to de-

120 SAINT PATRICK.

Gjiair, but set liiiiiself coolly and calmly to another and elill prealer undor-
takinnr, foi- whicli lie had no guarantee for the gratitude of mankind, nsoro than
for the former. \\ hen tliis, too, failed, through the injustice of those who ouglit
to have been his protectors, and the imbecility of those whom he ought to liave
commanded, he never seems for a moment to have thought of abating his niorti-
lications, or of vindicating his fame by recrimination, though he might, with
the utmost truth and justice, have recriminated upon every one with A\hom lie
had been connected. So far from this, however, he only sought to improve his
plan, and enable them to correct their en-ors ; and even when this, the last
and bitterest insult that can be oll'ered to an ingenuous mind, was neglected, he
modestly retired to the vale of private life, and seems to have closed his days
almost, if not altogether, without a murmur at the ingratitude of mankind.
There is one part of his character which, in a man of so much genius, ought
not to j)ass unnoticed : " lie was void of passion ; and he was one of the very
few of his countrymen who never drank wine."

PATRICK, Saint, the celebrated Apostle of Ireland, was born near the town
of Dumbarton, in the west of Scotland, about the year 372 of the Christian era.
His father, whose name was Calpurnius, was in a respectable station in life, be-
ing municipal magistrate in the town in which lie lived. What town tliis was,
liowever, is not certainly known, whether Kilpatrick, a small village on tlie
Clyde, five miles cast of Dumbarton, Duntochar, another small village about a
mile north of Kilpatrick, or Dumbarton itself. One of the three, however, it is
presumed, it must have been, as it is described as being situated in the north-
west part of the Roman province ; but though various biogTaphers of tlie saint
have assigned each of these towns by turns as his birthplace, conjecture has de-
cided in favour of Kilpatrick. His f^Uher is supposed, (for nearly all that is re-
corded of the holy man is conjectural, or at best but inferential,) to have come
to Scotland in a civil capacity with the Roman troops, under Theodosius. His
mother, whose name was Cenevessa, was sister or niece of St Blartin, bishop of
Tours ; and from this circumstance, it is presumed that his family were Chris-
tians.

The original name of St Patrick was Succat or Succach, supposed to have
some relation to Succoth, the name at this day of an estate not far distant from
his birtliplace, the property of the late Sir Hay Campbell. The name of
Patricius, or Patrick, was not assumed by the saint until he became invested
with the clerical character.

In his sixteenth year, up to which time he had remained with his father, he
was taken prisoner, along with his two sisters, on the occasion of an incursion
of the Irish, and carried over a captive to Ireland. Here he was reduced to a
state of slavery, in which he remained for six cr seven years with Milcho, a
petty king in the nortliern part of that country. The particular locality is said
to be Skerry, in the county of Antrim. At the end of this period, he effected
his escape ; on which occasion, it is recorded, he had warning that a ship was
ready for him, although she lay at a distance of 200 miles, and in a part of the
country where he never had been, and where he was unacquainted with any
one. On making his escape, he proceeded with the vessel to France, and re-
paired to his uncle at Tours, who made him a canon regular of his church. St
Patrick had already entertained the idea of converting the Irish, a design which
first occurred to him during his slavery, and he now seriously and assiduously
prepared himself for this important duty. But so impressed was he with the
difficulty and importance of the undertaking, and the extent of the qualifications
necessary to fit him for its accomplishment, that he did not adventure on it, until
he had attained his sixtieth year, employing the whole of this long interval in

ALEXANDER PENNECUIK, M.D. 121

travelling from place to place, in quest of religious instruction and information.
During- this period he studied, also, for some time, under St Germanus, bishop
of Gaul. By this ecclesiastic he was sent to Rome ivith recommendations to
pope Celestine, who conferred upon him ordination as a bishop, and furnished
him with instructions and autliority to proceed to Ireland to convert its natives.
On this mission he set out in the year 432, about the time that a eimilar attempt
hy Palladius had been made, and abandoned as hopeless. St Patrick was, on
this occasion, accompanied by a train of upwards of twenty persons, among
whom was Germanus. He sailed for Ii'eland from Wales, having come first to
Britain from France, and attempted to land at Wicklow, but being here opposed
by the natives, he proceeded along the coast, till he came to Ulster, where, meet-
ing with a more favourable reception, he and his followers disembarked. He
soon afterwards obtained a gift of Some land, and founded a monastery and a
church at Downe, or Downpatrick. From this establishment, he gradually ex-
tended his ministry to other parts of Ireland, devoting an equal portion of time
to its three provinces, Ulster, Munster, and Connaught, in each of which he is
said to have resided seven yeai-s, making altogether a period of one and twenty.
During this time, lie paid frequent visits to the Western Isles, with the view of
disseminating there the doctrines which he taught. Being now far advanced in
3ears, he resigned his ecclesiastical duties in Ireland, and returned to his native
country, where he died. The place, however, at which this event occurred,
the year in which it occui-red, the rge which he attained, and the original place
of his interment, have all been disputed, and differently stated by different
authors. The most probable account is, that he died and was buried at Kil-
patrick — this, indeed, appears all but certain from many circumstances, not the
least remarkably con*oborative of which is, the name of the place itself, which
signifies, the woi'd being a Gaelic compound, the burial place of Patrick — that
he died about the year 4-58 ; and that he was about eighty-six yeai-s of age when
this event took place.

PENNECUIK, Alexander, M.D., author of a " Description of the County of
Tweeddalc," and of various poems, was born in 1652, being the eldest son of
Alexander Pennecuik of Newhall, county of Edinburgh ; who had served as a
surgeon, first to general Pannier in the Thirty Years' war, and after\vards in the
army sent by the Scots into England, in 1G44, in terms of the Solemn League
and Covenant. The latter individual sold, in 1647, the original property of
liis family, to the ancestor of the Clerks, baronets, who have since possessed it,
and purchased, instead, the smaller adjacent estate of Kewhall, to which he
afterwards added by marriage, that of Romanno in Peeblesshire. The subject
of the present memoir, after being educated to the medical pi-ofession and
travelling, as would appear, on the continent, settled at no advanced period of
life on these patrimonial estates, where for some years he devoted himself with
warm filial affection to the care of his aged parent. The elder gentleman died
at an advanced age, after having seen five kings of Scotland, and been contem-
poraneous with four revolutions in the state religion ; which would seem to
indicate that he survived the year 169 2, tlie date of the last establishment of
presbytery. The subject of this memoir then acceded to the possession of New-
hall and Romanno, continuing, however, to practise as a physician, in which
profession he seems to have enjoyed a high reputation. Dr Pennecuik was
one of a small knot of Scottish gentlemen Avho cultivated letters and science at a
time of comparative darkness in this country, the latter end of the seventeenth
and beginning of the eighteenth centuries. His literary efforts were chiefly
confined to facetious poetry, for which he seems to have found models in Butler

IV. Q

122 WILLIAM PERRY.

and Drvilon, find in (lie homely strains of the native muse. His poems refer
mostly to local cliaraclers and nflairs, and are now only to be valued for the
vcitigos of contemporary manners which arc to be traced in them, but which are
not always remarkable for their good taste and purity. The presbytery meet-
ings of a moderate district, with their convivLil accompaniments, occasionally
provoked the satire of his pen. The following arc almost the only verses de-
serving to be remembered : —

ixscnirTiox for my closet.

Are not the ravens fed, gre.it G;d, by thee?
And wilt thou cluthe the lilies, ar.d not me?
I'll ne'er distrust my God for clothes ncr bre.id,
Whilst lilies fljurish, and the rave.i'a fed.

Dr Pcnnccuik has less credit for his poetry than for his devotion to botanical
pursuits, as science was then even more rare than literature. For this study he
enjoyed some advantages in the peripatetic nature of his life as a country physi-
cian, and in a correspondence which he carried on with Mr James Sutherland,
the superintendent of the first botanic garden in Edinburgh. In 1715, he was
induced to give the result of his literary and scientific labours to the world, in
a small quarto volume, containing a description of Twceddale, and his miscellaneous
poems; the botany of the county being a prominent department of the volume.
About a century afterwards this production was reprinted by the late Mr Con-
stable. Dr Pennecuik is not only meritorious as himself a cultivator of letters,
but as an cncouroger of the same pursuits in others. He was one of the literary
gentlemen to whom Ramsay so frequently expresses his obligations, and not im-
probably communicated the incidents upon which that poet founded his " Gentle
Shepherd," the scene of which pastoral is, almost beyond question, the estate of
Newhall, which, however, through the extravagance of a son-in-law of Dr Penne-
cuik, had then passed into a different family. The subject of this memoir died
in 1722.

Another writer of Scottish verses, named Alexander Pennecuik, flourished in
the earlier part of the eighteenth century. He was a burgess of Edinburgh ; the
author of " Streams from Helicon," published in 1720, and "Flowers from Par-
nassus," in 1726. He wrote also an historical account of "The Blue Blanket,
or Craftsman's Banner ;" and shortly before his death, commenced a periodical,
under the title of " Entertainment for the Curious." In his verses he imitated
Allan Ramsay. Several of his poems display considerable talent for humour.
Ilis life was dissipated, and his death miserable.

PERRY, William, an eminent journalist, was born in Aberdeen, on the 30th
of October, 1750. He received the rudiments of his education at the school
of Garioch, and was afterwards removed to the high school of Aberdeen.
Having gone through the usual course of learning at this seminary, with much
credit to him.self and satisfaction to his teachers, he entered Marlschal college
in 1771, and was afterwards, on completing his curriculum at the universitj',
placed under Dr Arthur Dingwall Fordyce, to qualify him for the profession of
the law, a profession to which he originally intended to devote himself. The
misfortunes of his father, however, who was an eminent house-builder in Aber-
deen, and who had about this period entered into some ruinous speculations,
compelled liim suddenly to abandon his legal studies, and to resign all idea of
adopting the law as a profession. In these unfortunate circumstances, young
Perry went to Edinburgh, in 1774, ^ith the humble hope of procuring cm-

WILLIAM PERRY. 123

ployment as a clerk in some writer's chambers. Even this, however, he could
not obtain ; and, after hanging about the city for many weeks, making daily,
but ineffectual efi'urts to get into a way of earning a subsistence, he came to
the resolution of trying his fortune in England. With this view, lie proceeded
to Blanchester, where he succeeded in obtaining a situation in the counting-
house of a Mr Dinwiddie, a respectable manufacturer, in which he remained
for two years. During his stay in Manchester, Mr Peny, ^^ho was yet only
in the nineteenth year of his age, attracted the notice, and procured the friend-
ship and patronage, of several of the principal gentlemen in the town, by the
singular talents he displayed in a debating society, which they had established
for the discussion of moral and philosophical subjects. This favourable opinion
of the youthful orator's abilities v,as still further increased, by his producing
several literary essays of great merit.

Encouraged by this success, Mr Perry determined to seek a wider field for
the exercise of his talents ; and witli this view set out for London, in the be-
ginning of the year 1777, carrying with him a number of letters of introduc-
tion and recommendations from his friends in Manchester to influential in-
dividuals in the metropolis. For some time, however, these were unavail-
ing. He could find no employment ; and he seemed as hopelessly situated now
in the English, as he had been in the Scottish capital two years before. But
the occurrence of a circumstance, not uninteresting in the memoirs of a literary
man, who fought his way to fame and fortune by the mere force of his talents,
at length procured him at once the employment wliich he sought, and placed
him on the path to that eminence which lie afterwards attained.

While waiting in London for some situation presenting itself, 3Ir Perry
amused himself by writing fugitive verses and short essays for a journal, called
the " General Advertiser." These he dropped into the letter-box of that paper,
as the casual conti'ibutions of an anonymous correspondent, and they were of such
merit as to procure immediate insertion. It happened that one of the jjarties
to whom he had a letter of recommendation, namely, Messrs Richardson and
Urquhart, were part proprietors of the Advertiser, and on these gentlemen Mr
Perry was in the habit of calling daily, to inquire whether any situation had yet
ofiered for him. On entering their shop one day to make the usual inquiry,
Mr Perry found Mr Urquhart earnestly engaged in reading an article in
the Advertiser, and evidently ^\ith great satisfaction. When he had finished,
the former put the now almost hopeless question, Whether any situation Imd
yet presented itself? and it was answered in the usual negative ; " but,"
added Mr Urquhart, " if you could Avrite such articles as this," pointing to that
which he had just been reading, " you would find immediate employment." Mr
Perry glanced at the article which had so strongly attracted the attention of his
friend, and discovered that it was one of his own. He instantly communicated
the information to Mr Urquhart ; and at the same time pulled from his pocket
another article in manuscript, which he had intended to put into the box,
;s usual, before returning home. Pleased with the discovery, Mr Urquhart
immediately said that he would propose him as a stipendiary writer for the
paper, at a meeting of the proprietors, which was to take place that very even-
ing. The result was, that on the next day he Avas employed at the rate of a
guinea a-week, with an additional half guinea for assistance to the " London
JSvening Post," printed by the same person.

On receiving these appointments, Mr Perry devoted himself with great assi-
duity to the discharge of their duties, and made efforts before unknown in the
newspaper establishments of London. On the memorable trials of admirals
Keppel and Palliser, he, by his own individual exertions, transmitted daily

124 JOHN PINKERTON.

from Portsmouth eight coliiiiins of a report of pro«;eedings tiken in court, .nn
achievement \vhir.li had the effect of addiii!? several thousands to the daily im-
pression of tlie pappr, Jlven wliile thus laboriously engafjed, Mr I'erry wroto
and published several ])olili<;al painplilols and jioenis on the leading topics of
the day, all possessed of nuicii inril, though of only transient interest.

In 1782, IMr Ferry oouniieucod a periodical publication, entitled "The
European JMngazine." 'litis work, wliicli was on a j>lan then new, comprising
a miscollany on popular subjects and reviews of new jjooks, appeared monthly,
and from the ability with which it was conducted, added greatly to the reputa-
tion and popularity of its editor. Having conduded this Journal for twelve
months, 31r I'erry was, at the end of that period, chosen by the proprietors of
the Gazetteer to be editor of that paper, in which shares were held by some of
the principal booksellers in London, at a salary of four guineas per week ; but
under an express condition, made by himself, that he should be in no way
constrained in his political opinions and sentiments, which were those of 3Ir Fox,
of whom he was a devoted admirer. ^Yhile acting as editor of the Giizetteer,
3Ir Ferry eflected a great improvement in the reporting department, hy em-
ploying a scries of reporters who should relieve each other by turns, and thus
supply a constant and uninterrupted succession of matter. By this means ho
was enabled to give in the morning all the debates which had taken place on
the preceding night, a point on which his predecessor in the editorship of the
Gazetteer had frequently been in arrears for months, and in every case for
several weclis.

One of Mr Perry's favourite recreations was tliat of attending and taking
part in the discussions of debating societies. In these humble, but not
inefficient schools of oratory, he always took a warm and active interest, and
himself acquired a habit of speaking with singular fluency and force; a talent
which procured him the notice of Pitt, who, then a very young man, was in the
practice of frequenting a society in which IMr Perry was a very frequent speaker,
and who is said to have been so impressed with his abilities as an orator, as to
have had an offer of a seat in parliament conveyed to him, after he had himself
attained the dignity of chancellor of the exchequer. A similar offer was after-
wards made to Mr Perry by lord Shelburne; but his political principles, from
which no temptation could divert him, pi'evented his accepting either of these
flattering propositions.

3Ir Perry edited for several yeai's Debrett's Parliamentary Debates, and af-
terwards, in conjunction with a 3Ir Gray, bought the Morning Chronicle from
Mr Woodfall, a paper which he continued to conduct with great ability and in-
dependence of spirit and principle till his death, which took place at Brighton,
after a painful and protracted illness, on the 6tli December, 1821, in the sixty-
fifth year of his age.

PINKERTON, .ToHN", a voluminous historian and critic, was born at Edinburgh
on the 17th February, 1758.' He was the youngest of three sons of James
Pinkerton, who had, in Somersetshire, acquired an independence as a dealer in
hair, and returned to his native country, Scotland, where he married a widow
whose maiden name was Heron. The opening of young Pinkerton's intellect,
fell to the charge of an old woman acting as schoolmistress of a village
near Edinburgh, and he was afterwards removed to the graunnar school of
Lanark. At school he is said to have shown, in apathy and abstinence from the
usual boyish gratifications, the acidity of disposition for which he was afterwards
more particularly distinguished. Hypochondria, inherited from his father, is
believed to have been the primary cause of the characteristic. He is said to
' Nichols' Lit. Illustrations, v. G66.

JOHN PINKERTON. 125

have publicly distinguished himself at school by his early classical acquirements,
having, as an exercise, translated a portion of Livy, uhich his preceptor, on a
comparison, decided to be superior to tiie same passage as translated in Hooker's
Roman History. After Iiaving remained at school for six yeai's, he returned to
Edinburgh. The dislike of his father to a university education seems to Iiave
for some time after this period subjected him to a sort of half literary imprison-
ment, in which, by alternate fits, he devoted his whole time to French, the clas-
sics, and mathematics. Intended for the legal profession, lie was apprenticed to
Mr Aytoun, an eminent writer to the signet, under whose direction he remained
for the usual period of five years. Apparently during his apprenticeship, in
1776, he published an " Ode to Craigmiilar Castle," dedicated to Dr Beattie.
The professor seems to have given the young poet as little encouragement as a
dedicatee could in politeness restrict himself to. " There are many good lines,"
he says, " in your poem ; but when you have kept it by ycu a week or two, I
fancy you will not think it correct enough as yet to appear in public."' But
Pinkerton had a mind too roughly cast for poetry, and it was only when his
imitations uere mistaken for the rudeness of antiquity that his verses were at all
admired. After 1780, Avhen his father died, he visited London, and having
previously contracted a slight bibliomania, the extent and variety of the book-
sellers' catalogues are said to have proved a motive for his taking up his residence
in the metropolis as a literary man, and eschewing Scotch law. In 1781, he
published in octavo some trifles, which it pleased him in his independence of or-
thography to term " Rimes." This work contained a second part to Hardy-
knute, which he represented as " now first published complete." If Pinker-
ton thought that his imposition was to get currency by being added to a ballad
really ancient, the circumstance would show the extreme ignorance of the period
as to the literature of our ancestors ; for it is now needless to remark how un-
like this composition is to the genuine productions of the elder muse. The
imposition in this case was not entirely successful. " I read over again,"
says 3Ir Porden the architect, " the second part of Hardyknute ; and I
must inform you that I have made up my mind with respect to the author of it.
I know not whether you will value a compliment paid to your genius at the
expense of your imitative art, but certainly that genius sheds a splendour on some
passages which betrays you."^ In 1782 appeared a second edition of the
" Rimes," and at the same time he published t^vo separate volumes of poetry
which have dropped into oblivion. In the ensuing year he published in two
volumes his " Select Scottish Ballads," a work rather more esteemed. At this
period he turned the current of his laborious intellect to numismatics. Early
in life a latent passion for tlie collection of antiquities had been accidentally (as
is generally the case with antiquaries,) called into action. He drew up a manual
and table of coins for his own use, which afterwards expanded itself into the
celebrated " Essay on Medals," published in two volumes, Svo, in 1784; and
published a third time in 1 80S, These volumes form a manual which is con-
tinually in the hands of numismatists. In 1785, he published, under the as-
sumed name of Robert Heron, a work termed " Letters of Literature ;" the sin-
gularity of this woi'k suggests that its author was guilty of affecting strangeness,
for the purpose of attracting notice. Among the most prominent subjects, was
a new system of orthography, or, more properly, of grammar, Avhich, by various
transmutations, sucii as classical terminations, (e. g. the use of a instead of s in
forming plurals,) was to reduce the harshness of tlie English language. The at-
tempt on the public sense was not in all respects effective, but the odium
occasioned very naturally fell on poor Robert Heron, who was just then strug.
2Pinkertoii's Correspondence, i. 2. ^ Pinkerton's Corrc-Hi'ciicleiice i. 25,

126 JOHN PINKERTON.

gliiig into being as a literary man. Tlio work, however, procured to I'inkerton an
introiluction to Horace Walpolc, who made iiim acujuainled witli Gibbon. 'Ihp
proud spirit of that great liistorian seems to have found something congenial in
the restless and acrid I'inkerton. He recommended him to tlie booksellers
as a person lit to traiisLite thj ** English ^lonkish Historians." In an address
which (jibbon had intended to prefix to the work, hio protege was almost extra-
vagantly lauded : but the plan as then designed was never put in practice. The
frieudbhip of Walpole continued till his death ; and, light and versatile in his
own acquirements, he seems to have looked on the dogged perseverance, and
continually accumulating knowledge of I'inkerton with some respect. Afler
Walpole's death, I'inkerton sold a collection of his " Ana" to the proprietors
of the 31onthly 3Iagazine, and they were afterwards published under the title
" Walpoliana." In 17SG, I'inkerton published " Ancient Scottish I'oems,
never before in print, but now published from the manuscript collections of Sir
llichard Maitland of Lethington, Knight, Lord Privy Seal of Scotland; com-
prising pieces written from about 1420 till 15SG : with large Notes and a Glos-
sary." I'inkerton maintained that he had found the manuscript in the I'epysian
library at Cambridge, and in his correspondence he sometimes alludes to the
circumstances with very admirable coolness. The forgery was one of the most
audacious recorded in the annals of transcribing. Time, place, and circum-
stances were all minutely stated — there was no mystery. Among Pinkerton's
opinions as to character, that of literary impostor was of the most degraded or-
der. The whole force of his nature and power over the language were era-
ployed to describe his loathing and contempt. On JMacpherson, who executej
the task with more genius, but certainly much less historical knowledge than
himself, he poured the choice of his denunciations. In 1787, he published
" The Treasury of Wit ; being a IMethodical Selection of about Twelve Hundred
of the best Apothegms and Jests, from books in several languages." This work
is not one of those which may be presumed to have been consonant with Pink-
erton's pursuits, and it probably owed its existence to a favourable engagement
with a bookseller ; but even in a book of anecdotes this author could not with-
stand the desire of being distinct from other men, and took the opportunity of
making four divisions of wit and humour, viz., " serious wit, comic wit; serious
humour, and comic humour." During the same year, he produced " A Disserta-
tion on the Origin and Progress of the Scythians or Goths, being an Introduc-
tion to the Ancient and Modern History of Europe." In the compilation of this
small treatise, he boasts of having employed himself eight hours per day for one
year in the examination of classical authors : the period occupied in consulting
those of the Gothic period, which he found to be " a mass of superfluity and
error," he does not venture to limit. This production was suggested by his
reading for his celebrated account of the early " History of Scotland," and was
devised for the laudable purpose of proving that the Celtic race was more de-
graded than the Gothic, as a preparatory position to the arguments maintained
in that work. He accordingly shows the Greeks to have been a Gothic race, in
as far as they were descended from the Pelasgi, who were Scythians or Goths
— a theory which, by the way, in the secondary application, has received the
sanction of late etymologists and ethnologists of emiaence — and, by a similar
prooress, he showed the Gothic origin of the Romans. Distinct from the general
account of the progress of the Goths, which is certainly full of information and
acuteness, he had a particular object to gain, in fixing on an island formed by
the influx of the Danube in the Euxine sea, fortunately termed by the ancient
geographers " I'euke," and inhabited by Peukini. Prom this little island, of
the importance of which he produces many highly respectable certificates, he

JOHN PINKERTON. 127

brings the Peukiiii along the Danube, whence, passing to the Baltic, they after-
wards appear in Scotland as the Ficts or Pechts. At this period Pinkerton
appears to liave been an unsuccessful candidate for a situation in the British
museum. Horace Walpole says to him in a letter of the 11th February, 1788,
" I wrote a letter to Sir Joseph Banks, soliciting his interest for you, should
tliere be a vacancy at the museum. He answers, (and I will show you his an-
swer when I see you,) that he is positively engaged to Mr Thorkelin, should
Mr Planta resign ; but that, the chancellor having refused to sign the permission
for the latter, who will not go abroad without that indulgence, no vacancy is
likely to happen from tliat event,"' In 1789, he edited from early works,
printed and manuscript, " Vitas Antiquae Sanctorum Scotorum." This work,
of which only one hundred copies were printed, is now scarce and expensive ;
but at its appearance it seems to have met little encouragement Irom tiie author's
countrymen. '' Mr Cardonnel,'' he says in a letter to the earl of Buchan,
'* some months since informed me that, upon calling at Creech's shop, he learned
there were about a dozen subscribers to the * p'itcB Sanctorum Scotios.'' Upon
desiring my factor, IMr Buchan, since to call on Mr Creech, and learn the names,
Creech informed him ' there were about two or three; and the subscription
paper was lost, so he could not tell the names.'" During the same year,
Pinkerton published his edition of " Barbour's Bruce." Although the most
correct edition up to the period of Dr Jamieson's publication, it was far from
accurate, and gave the editor ample opportunity of vituperating those friends
who incautiously undertook to point out its mistakes. In 1790, appeared
" The Medallic History of England to the Revolution," in 4to, with forty plates ;
and, at the same time, the " Inquiry into the History of Scotland, preceding the
reign of Malcolm III., or 1056 : including the authentic history of that period."
This work contained a sort of concentration of all his peculiarities. It may be
said to have been the first work which thoroughly sifted the great " Pictish ques-
tion ;" the question whether the Picts were Goths or Celts. In pursuance of his
line of argument in the progress of the Goths, he takes up the latter position ;
and in the minds of those who have no opinions of their own, and have con-
sulted no other authorities, by means of his confidence and his hard terms, he may
be said to have taken the point by storm. But he went farther in his proofs.
It was an undoubted fact that the Scots were Celts, and all old authorities bore
that the Scots had subdued the Picts. This was something which Pinkerton could
not patiently contemplate ; but he found no readier means of overcoming it than
by proving that the Picts conquered the Scots ; a doctrine founded chiefly on
the natural falsehood of the Celtic race, which prompted a man of sense, when-
ever he heard anything asserted by a Celt, to believe that the converse was the
truth. He amused himself with picliing out terms of vituperation for the Mac-
phersons ; " of the doctor," he said, " his etymological nonsense he assists with
gross falsehoods, and pretends to skill in tlie Celtic without quoting a single
MS. ; in short he deals wholly in assertion and opinion ; and it is clear that he
had not even an idea what learning and science are :"" of the translator he not
less politely observes, " He seems resolved to set every law of common science
and common understanding at defiance."^

His numberless observations on the Celts, are thus pithily brought to a focus :
" Being mere savages, but one degi'ee above brutes, they i-emain still in much
the same state of society as in the days of Julius Ccesar ; and he who ti'avels
among the Scottish Highlanders, the old Welch, or wild Irish, may see at once
the ancient and modern state of women among the Celts, when he beholds these
savages stretched in their huts, and their poor women toiling like beasts of bur-
* Correspondence, i. ISO. lb., 177. * Inc[uiry, Introd., 63. « ib., Qi.

128 DR. ARCHIBALD PITCAIRNE.

don for their iminaiily hiisbaiuls."' And lie tliiis draws up a comparison hetuixt
these unfortunates and Iiis favourite (jolhs. " The lioulanders are acute, in-
dustrious, sensible, erect, free: the Highlanders, indolent, slavish, stranq^crs to
industry. The former, in short, liave every attribute of a civilized people : the
latter are absolute savages ; and, like Indians and nejifroes, will ever continue
(f, * * # * All we can do is to plant colonics among tbeni, and, by
this and encouraging their emigration, try to get rid of the breed.""' I'inkcr-
ton proved, indeed, a sore visitation to the Celts. 31oderate men had no ob-
jections to' a conflict which might, at least, bring amusement, and might serve
to htmible the pride, by displaying the ignorance of a people, who seemed to
take an unfortunate pride in the continuance of barbarism. Kew took their
side ; and I'inkerton had many triumplis over their native champions, in the
recurrence of that ignorance of their own history, which he maintained to be
their characteristic. His knowledge of history effectually foiled any claim put
in for Celtic merit. He would call on the company to name a Celt of eminence.
'* If one mentioned Burke," observes a late writer : " What," said he, " a de-
scendant of Ue Boui-g ? Class that high Norman chivalry with the rif-raf of O's
and 3Iac's ? Show nie a great 0', and I am done." He delighted to prove
that the Scottish Highlanders had never had but a few great captains, such as
Montrose, Dundee, the first duke of Argyle, — and these were all Goths, — the
two first LoAvlanders ; the last a Norman, a De Campo Bellow

In 1792, Pinkerton edited "Scottish Poems, reprinted from scarce edi-
tions," in three volumes octavo. In 1796, appeared his "History ofScot-
landj during the Reign of the Stuarts," in two volumes quarto, one of tiie
most unexceptionable of his historical works, and still the most laboured and
accurate complete history of the period. In 1798, he married I\Iiss liurgess of
Odiham, Hants, sister to Thomas, bishop of Salisbury, The union was un-
happy, and the parties separated. In 1795 and 1797, he bestowed some pains
in preparing lives of Scotsmen, for the " Iconographia Scotica," two volumes
octavo ; but the information in the work is very meagre, and the plates
are wretchedly engraved. In 1 802, he published, in two voltmies quarto,
" 3Iodern Geography, digested on a new Plan ;" a work somewhat hastily got
up, and deficient in some of its parts, but still one of the most compendious and
useful geographical •works of the period. A second edition was published in
1806, in three yolumes, and an abridgment, in one octavo, is well known. At
the commencement of the century, he visited Paris; and, in ISOG, published
"Recollections of Paris in the Years 1802-3-4 and 5," two volumes octavo.
For some years after this period, he found employment in editing ** A General
Collection of Voyages and Travels," extending to nuieteen volumes quarto, and
a " New Modern Atlas," in parts. For a short period, he also edited the
" Critical Review." His last work was on a subject foreign to his previous
studies, but which appears from his correspondence to have occupied much of
his attention during his old age : it was entitled, " Petrology, or a Treatise on
Rocks," two yolumes octavo, 1811. In his latter years, he resided in Paris,
where he died, in indigent circumstances, on the 10th March, 1825, at the age
of sixty-seven. He is described to have been " a very little and very thin
old man, with a very small, sliai-p, yellow face, thickly pitted by the smallpox,
and decked with a pair of green spectacles."'"

PITCAIRNE, (Dr) Archibald, an eminent physician of the seventeenth century,

was born at Edinburgh on the 25th December, 16 52. His father, who was

descended of an ancient family in Fife, was an eminent merchant, and one of

the magistrates of the city. His mother, whose name was Sydserf, was a mem-

' lb. i. 26B. 6 lb. i. 310. 9 Nichols' Illustrations, v. eC9. ^^ lb. 671.

DR. ARCHIBALD PITCAIRXE. 129

bcr of a highly respectable family in East Lothian. Dr Piteairne received the
earlier part of his education at Dalkeith. He was afterwards removed to the
university of Edinburgh, where he made great progress in classical learning,
and completed a regular course of philosophy. His subsequent education ranged
over the extensive field of the three professions pre-eminently styled learned.
At the request of his friends, who were desirous that he should devote himself
to the church, he first entered on the study of theology, but finding neither this
study, nor the profession to which it led, at all suitable to his temper, disposition,
or habits, he abandoned it, and turned his attention to law.

To this pursuit, which he found more congenial tiian the other, and in which
he became fired Avith an ambition to excel, he devoted himself with an ardour
and intensity of application, that induced symptoms of approaching consump-
tion. To arrest the progress of this malady, he was advised by his physicians
to repair to the south of France for the benefit of the milder climate of that
country. By the time, however, that Mr Piteairne reached Paris lie found him-
self so much better, that he determined on remaining in that city, and resum-
ing his legal studies there ; but having formed an acquaintance, while in the
French capital, with some agreeable young men from Scotland, who were en-
gaged in the study of medicine, he was prevailed upon by them to abandon the
law, and to join in their pursuits. To these he applied accordingly for several
months, when he was recalled to Edinburgh by his father. This was now the
third profession which he had begun, and the indecision of his conduct with
regard to a permanent choice, naturally gave mucli uneasiness to his friends,
but this was allayed by his finally declaring for physic, and applying himself
with extraordinary diligence to the study of botany, pharmacy, and materia
medica. He afterwards went a second time to Paris to complete his studies,
and on that occasion acquired an entire and profound knowledge of medicine.
Tims prepared he returned to his native city, wliere he practised with singular
success till the year 1692, when his great reputation, which was now diftused
throughout Europe, and which had been not a little increased by his able
treatise regai-ding Hervey's discovery of the circulation of the blood, entitled,
" Solutio problemati de inventoribus," procured him an invitation from Leyden
to accept of the professorship of physic in the celebrated university of that city,
and so sensible were those who had the nomination of this appointment, of the
merits of Dr Piteairne, and of the value of his services, that the invitation was
accompanied by the offer of a much larger salary than had been usually at-
tached to the office. Dr Piteairne accepted the invitation, but remained in
Leyden only twelvemonths. At the end of that period lie came over to Edin-
burgh to maiTy a daughter of Sir Archibald Stevenson, an eminent physician
in the latter city, to whom he had been betrothed before leaving Scotland, and
Avliom it was his intention to carry along with him to Leyden ; but the lady's
friends objected to her going abroad, and Dr Piteairne so far yielded to these
objections, as to resign his professorship, and reconcile himself to the resump-
tion of his practice as a physician in his native city. Nor had he any reason
to regret the change thus in a manner forced upon him, for he soon found him-
self in possession of a most extensive and lucrative business. During the short
time he was at Leyden, Dr Piteairne chose the texts of his medical lectures from
the writings of Bellini, who, in return for this flattering compliment, dedicated
to the doctor his " Opuscula."

Dr Pitcairne's reputation for skill in his profession now daily increased. He
was consulted by patients in distant pai-ts of Scotland, and frequently from
England and V/ales, and was altogether looked upon as the most eminent phy-
eirian of his time. Nor was his fame as a scholar behind that which he enjoy-

IV. E

130 JOHN PLAYFAin.

ed as ci medical practitioner. Ilia *' Solutio prcbleiuali," &c., published soon
afi'ir he hail fust coininenced business in lviinbiir;,'h, liad gained liim niucli
repuLntion as a learned man, as uell as a skilful jdiysician, and he slill more
stronjjiy established his claims to the former diaracter by a 4lo uorh, entitled,
" Archibaldi Pitcarnii Disserlationes IMe<lic,T," \vhicli was publislied at Hotter-
dam in 1701, and dedicated to his friend Ilellini. l)r IMtcairne also wrote Latin
poetry with very considerable elegance and taste, althoujjh Wodrow, in his
Analecta, speaks of him in this capacity, as only ** a sort of a poet." 15ut he
was something more than this, and had not the subjects of his muse unfortu-
nately been all of but transitory interest, and therefore now nearly wholly un-
intelligible, his fame as a Latin 2)aet would liave been very far from contempt-
ible. Some of these poems were published in 1727, by Iluddiman, in order to
meet a charge which had been made upon Scotland, that it was deficient in this
department of literature.

Dr Pitcairnc's chief work was published in 1718, under the title of "Elemcnta
Medicinre Physico Mathematica," consisting of his lectures at Lcyden. lie was
considered to be the first physician of his time. His library is said to have been
one of the best private collections of that time ; it was purchased, after his
death, by the Czar of Russia. In addition to his Latin verses, he was the author
of a comedy called " The Assembly," which is a sarcastic and profane produc-
tion; also, "Babell, or the Assembly, a poem, 1692," both being intended to
turn the proceedings of the General Assembly into ridicule. Dr Pitcairne
was a Jacobite, and an Episcopalian ; and his talent for satire was often directed
against the Presbyterians, who accused him of being an atheist, and a scoffer
and reviler of religion. Wodrow even goes the length of retaliating upon him
by a serious charge as to his temperance. An atheistical pamphlet published
in 1688, entitled, " Epistola Archimedis ad regem Gelonera Alba? Grjccaj,
repcrta anno covx Christiana?," was ascribed to Pitcairne; and when the Rev.
Thomas Halyburton entered upon the office of professor of divinity in the uni-
versity of St Andrews, in 1710, his inaugural discourse was a refutation of the
arguments of this performance, and was published in 1714, under the title of
"Natural Religion Insufficient, and Revealed Necessary to Man's Happiness."
His verses written on Christmas Day have been referred to as a proof of Dr
Pitcairne's orthodoxy, on which he had himself thrown a doubt by his profane
jesting and his habitual scoffing at religious men ; and it is added, on the autho-
rity of Dr Drommond, that, during his last illness, he evinced just apprehensions
of God and religion, and experienced the tranquillity of mind which can ai'ise
from no other source. As a man of science, he was far in advance of the age
in which he lived ; and the zeal with which he propagated Hervey's beautiful
discovery of the circulation of the blood, is a proof of liberality of feeling which
was by no means common at that period among medical men, by whom the
doctrine of the circulation was long treated as a heresy in science, and its dis-
coverer nearly persecuted out of the profession. That his disposi'ion was gene-
rous and friendly in a remarhablc degree, is beyond doubt, and the reader may
finda striking instance of it in the life of Ruddiman.

Dr Pitcairne died in Edinburgh on the 20th of October, 1713, in the 61st
year of his age, and was interred in the Grey friars' church-yard.

PLAYFAIR, John, an eminent natural philosoj^her and mathematician, was
the eldest son of James Playfair, minister of Benvie, in Forfarshire, where he
was born on the 10th of March, 1748. He was educated at home until he
reached the age of fourteen, when he was sent to the university of St Andrews,
where it was intended that he should study for the Scottish church. The pre-
cocity of talent exhibited by great men, generally so ill authenticated, has been

JOHN PLAYFAIR. 131

strikingly vouched by two remarkable circumstances in the early history of
Playfair. While a student at St Andrews, professor Wilkie, tlie author of the
" Epigoniad," when in bad health, selected him to deliver leclures on natural
philosophy to the class; and in the year 17(JG, when only eighteen years of
age, he felt himself qualified to compete as a candidate for the chair of mathe-
matics in the Marlschal college of Aberdeen. In this, his confidence in his
powers was justified by the event. Of six candidates, two only excelled him,
— Dr Trail, who was appointed to the chair, and Cr Hamilton, who afterwards
succeeded to it."^

In 1769, having finished his com-ses at the university, Mr Playfair lived for
some time in Edinburgh, in the enjoyment of the very select literary society of
the period, " It would appear," says his biographer," " from letters published
in the 'Life of the late Principal liill,' that, during this time, Mr Playfair had
twice hopes of obtaining a permanent situation. Tiie nature of the first, which
ofi^ered itself in 1769, is not there specified, and is not known to any of his own
family; the second, was the professorship of natural philosophy in the university
of St Andre^vs, vacant by the death of liis friend Dr Wilkie, which took place
ia 1772. In this, which lie earnestly desired, and for which he was eminently
qualified, he was disappointed." During the same year, his father died, and the
care of his mother, and of the education of his father's young family, rendered
the acquisition of some permanent means of livelihood more anxiously desirable.
He was immediately nominated by lord Gray to his father's livings of LitTand
Benvie ; but the right of presentation being disputed, he was unable to enter
on possession, until August, 1773. From that period, his time was occupied in
attending to the duties of his charge, superintending the education of his
brothers, and prosecuting his philosophical studies. In 1774, he made an ex-
cursion to Perthshire, to witness the experiments of Dr Maskelyne, the astrono-
mer I'oyal, to illustrate the principles of gravitation, from the effect of moun-
tains in disturbing the plumb line. A permanent friendship was at that time
formed between the two philosophers. " I met," says Playfair, in his Journal
of a visit to London in 1782, " with a very cordial reception from him (Ur
Blaskelyne), and found that an acquaintance contracted among wilds and
mountains is much more likely to be durable than one made up in the bustle of
a great city : nor would I, by living in London for many years, have become so
well acquainted with this astronomer, as I did by partaking of his hardships
and labours on Schehallien for a few days."

In 1779, Playfair's first scientific efi'ort was given to the public, in " An
Essay on the Arithmetic of Impossible Quantities," published in the sixty-eighth
volume of the Philosophical Transactions. In 1782, an advantageous ofler
prompted him to give up his living, and become tutor to Mr Ferguson of Eaith
and his brother Sir Konald Ferguson. It was at this period that he paid the
visit to London in which he met Dr Maskelyne. By that gentleman he was
introduced to some literai-y men, and to institutions of literary or philosophical
interest. Some of these roused the calm enthusiasm for philosophical greatness
which was one of the principal features of his character. " This," he
says, " was the first time that I had seen the Observatory of Greenwich, and I
entered with profound reverence into that temple of science, where Flamstead,
and Halley, and Bradley, devoted their days and their nights to the contem-
pli;tion of the Heavens. Ihe shades of these ancient sages seemed si ill to

1 Vide Life of Robert Hamillon in this collection.

2 His mphew, i)y whom a Life of Mr Pla}fair was prefixed to an edition of his work";,
published in I32ri.

132 JOHN PLAYFAIR.

hover round their former inaiisions, inspiring their worthy successor with the
love of wisdom, and poinliiin; out the road to immortality."

From his tiursl after knowledge being untainted by political or local preju-
dices, riayfair had early turned himself to the important discoveries of the
continental algebraists, and was the lirst man of eminence to introduce tliem to
Uritish nolice. He perceived the prejudices entertained on the subject in Eng-
land, and probably the discovery siiarpencd his appeiite for a subject which he
found was almost untouched. Speaking of Dr 31askelyne, he says, " lie is
nmch attached to the study of geometry, and I am not sure that he is very deep-
ly versed in the late discoveries of the foreign algebraists. Indeed, this seems
to be somewhat the case will) all the English mathematicians : they despise their
brethren on the continent, and tliiidc that everything great in science must be
for ever confined to the country that produced Sir Isaac Newton." In the works
of an eminent natural philosopher one may search long before he will find any-
thing which shows in explicit terms the exact discipline of mind or system of
reasoning, by which he has made it to happen that all he has said, has so much
the appearance of being trutli ; but a petty remark, disconnected with the ordi-
nary pursuits of the philosopher, may often strikingly illustrate the operation of
his mind, and the means by A>hich he has disciplined himself to approach as
near as possible to truth ; and, such a passage occurring in this short diary, we
beg to insert it. " An anecdote of some Indians was told, that struck me very
much, as holding up but too exact a picture of many of our theories and rea-
sonings from analogy. Some American savages having experienced the efiects
of gunpowder, and having also accidentally become masters of a small quantity
of it, set themselves to examine it, with a design of finding out what was its
nature, and how it was to be procured. The oldest and wisest of the tribe,
after considering it attentively, pronounced it to be a seed. A piece of ground
was accordingly prepraed for it, and it was sown in the fullest confidence that
a great crop of it was to be produced. We smile at the mistake of these In-
dians, and we do not consider, that, for the extent of their experience, they
reasoned well, and drew as logical a conclusion as many of the philosophers of
Europe. Whenever we reason only from analogy and resemblance, and when-
ever we attempt to measure the nature of things by our conceptions, we are
precisely in the situation of these poor Americans." In this Playfair exempli-
fied the propensity to reason from certain qualities perceived to be identical,
when it is not known but that other qualities not perceived, may be at variance.
The wise American saw colour and form like those of a seed, and from these he
drew his conclusion. Had he been a botanist, he would have discovered that
the grain consisted of saltpetre and charcoal, instead of kernel ; and, whatever
else he could have made of it, he would have quickly perceived that it was not
a seed. In connexion with this it is to be held in mind, that Playfair was es-
sentially a reasoner, and that he was more celebrated for separating the true
from the false in the writings of others, or for establishing and applying truths
accidentally stumbled upon by others, than for extensive discoveries of his
own.

In 1785, Dr Adam Ferguson exchanged the moral chair in the university for
that of mathematics, taught by professor Dugald Stewart, and, being in bad
health, chose Playfair as his assistant. He continued, however, to attend his
two pupils until 17S7, when he took up his residence with his mother, who had
for some time lived in Edinburgh. He now commenced a series of papers
which appeared in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. The
first of these was the life of Dr IMatthew Stewart, the late professor of mathe-

JOHN PLAYTAIR. 133

matics in the university of Edinburgh ; a paper written in liis usual flowing, sim-
ple, and expressive style. A second was a paper on the causes uhich affect the
accuracy of Barometrical jMeasurements. A third was Remarks on the Astro-
nomy of the Brahmins. The early eastern astronomy was a subject to which he
Avas very partial, and to which some conceive he has paid more attention than
its importance warranted. He fought to a certnin extent at disadvantage, from
ignorance of the language, and consequently of external evidence as to the au-
thenticity of the remarkable records containing the wisdom of the Brahmins; but
he calculated their authenticity from the circumstance, that none but a Euro-
pean acquainted with the refinements of modern science could have made th.e
calculations on which they might have been forged. The death of his brother
James, in 1793, interrupted his philosophical pursuits, by forcing on his man-
agement some complicated business, along- with the education of his brother'3
son. In 1795, he published an edition of Euclitrs elements for the use of his
class. In this work he adopted the plan of using algebraic signs instead of
words, to render the proportions more compact and apparent. The plan has
been repeatedly practised since that period, and " Flayfair's Euclid" is a book
well known to the boys in most mathematical schools, by whom, however, it is
not ahvays so much admired as it is known. In 1797 he suffered a severe attack
of rheumatism, during which he sketched an essay on the accidental discoveries
which have been made by men of science whilst in pursuit of something else, or
when they had no determinate object in view ; and ^vrote the observations on
the trigonometrical tables of the Brahmins, and the theorems relating to
the figure of the earth, which were afterwards published in the Transactions of
the Royal Society of Edinburgh. About the same time, his friend Dr Hutton
died, and Playfair, who affectionately intended to have written his memoir,
found in the study of his works a vast field in which he afterwards distinguished
himself, by the preparation of the " Illustrations of the Huttonian Theory of the
Earth." Few observers of nature have possessed the power of describing wh^nt
they have seen, so as to make their facts and deductions perceivable to ordinary
thinkers. Playfair possessed the quality, however, to a rare extent ; and it was
probably its deficiency in the works of his friend Hutton, which prompted him
to prepare the elegant and logical "Analysis of the Volcanic Theory of the
Earth," which has been so mucii admired for its OAvn literary merits, and has
been the means of rendering popular an important theory which otherwise might
have remained in obscurity. It has been said, that the illustration of a theory
of the earth was but a profitless employment for so accurately thinking a philo-
sopher, and that the task might have been left to more imaginative minds, whose
speculations would have afforded equal pleasure to those who delight in forming
fabrics of theory on insufficient foundations. It is true, that even the lucid com-
mentary of Playfair docs not establish the Huttonian as a general and undeviat-
ing theory, in an undoubted and indisputable situation ; he seems not to have
aimed so high ; and from the present state of science, no one can predicate
that the elementary formation of the earth, or even of its crust, will ever be
shown with chemical exactness. All that can be said is, that in as far as the re-
spective experiments and deductions of the theorists have proceeded, the Hut-
tonian Theory is not directly met by any fact produced on the part of the Nep-
tunians, and the phenomena produced in its favour strongly show — indeed show
to absolute certainty in some cases — the present formation of a great part of the
crust of the earth to have been the effect of fire, how operating in respect to
the whole substance of the globe it is impossible to determine. The defence
of a theory of the earth had for some time been unpopular among many philo-
sophers, from the production of such majestic fabrics of theory as those of Whis-

134 JOHN PLAYFAIR.

ton and Burnet, which, without a sufficient luinibcr of ascertained facts for the
.•mr.lysis of tiie com{)onent parts of any jnjrtion of the earth's surfaces, showed
in detail the nietliod of its aL»slrat;tion from the rest of the universe, and the
minutias of its formation, liut IMayfair never went beyond rational deduction
on the facts wiiieli were known to him, limiting the extent of his theories to
reasonings on what he knew ; and it shows the accuracy of his logic, tliat, while
the experiments of Sir James Ifail and otliers (whicli were in progress but not
complete while he wrote,) have tended to support his explication, erpecially in
justifying his opinion that the reason of calcination in bodies subjected to lieat
was the necessity of the escape of the gases contained in them, we are auare of
none which have contradicted him.

The period between 17!J7 and 1S03 was occupied by Mr Plajfair in prepar-
ing his Illustrations, and in 1S03 his biographical sketch of Hutton was pub-
lished in the Society Transactions. In 1805 he quitted the nialhematic^al chair,
and succeeded professor John Hobison in that of natural philosophy ; during
the same year his mother died at the age of eightj-five, and he retired along
with a younger brother, his youngest sister, and two nephews, to Burntisland,
that he might devote the smnmer to uninterrupted preparation for the duties of
his new class. In the controvei'sy witli tlie clergymen of Edinburgh, regarding
his successor to the chair of mathematics, he took an active part. A letter
which he addressed to the provost of Edinburgh, in favour of the election of a
scientijic man, as opposed to a clergyman, was answered by Dr Inglis, and from
the nature of the remarks directed against himself, he considered it necessary
to reply. The pamphlet pi'oduced under these circumstances, showed that his
calm temper nn'ght be made dangerous by interference : it is Avritten in con-
siderable asperity of spirit, but witiiout vulgar raillery or much personality,
and the serious reproof, mixed with occasional sarcasm which it contains, shows
great power to wield the weapons of literary warfare. He next occupied him-
self in preparing papers on the solids of greatest attraction, and on the pro-
gress of heat in spherical bodies, which appeared in the Transactions of the
Royal Society of Edinburgh. He also presented to the London Koyal Society,
of which he was admitted a member in 1807, an Account of the Survey of
Schehallien. In 1814, he published fur the use of his students his well known
Outlines of Natural Philosophy, in two volumes octavo. The first volume of
this work treats of Dynamics, IMechanics, Hydrostatics, Hydraulics, Aerostatics,
and Pneumatics. The second is devoted to Astronomy. A third volume was
intended to have embraced Optics, Electricity, and Magnetism ; but the work
Avas never completed. In the following year he presented to the Koyrl Society
of Edinburgh a life of his predecessor, professor Robison. His labours for this
institution will be perceived to have been very extensive, and they show him
not to have been a mercenary man. He was long its cliief support, arranging
and publishing the Transactions, and gratuitously acting as secretary. In
1816, he published, in the Supplement to the Encyclopredia Britannica, a " Dis-
sertation on the Progress of Mathematical and Physical Science since the Re-
yival of Letters in Europe," a work of great erudition and research. This work
interrupted a new and much altered edition of his Illustrations of the Huttonian
Theory, which he had previously designed, but which unfortunately he was
never enabled to complete. " It was intended," says his biographer, " to com-
mence with a description of all the well authenticated facts in geology collected
during his extensive reading and personal observation, without any mixture ot
hypothesis whatever. To this followed the general inferences which may be
deduced from the facts, an examination of the various geological systems
hitherto offered to tlie world, and the exclusion of those which involved any

JOHN PLAYFAIK 135

contradiction of the principles previously ascertained ; Avliile the conclusion
would have presented the development of the system adopted by the author,
and the application of it to explain the phenomena of geology." Previously
to 1815, Mr Flayfair had confined his geological observations to Britain and
Ireland ; nor was he able, from causes public or private, previously to tliat period,
to extend them to the continent. His nephew accompanied him on a tour
which he designed to extend as far as he could through Italy, Switzerland, and
Finance. He spent a short time in the philosophical circle of Paris, to which
his name could not fail to be an introduction. He then passed to Switzerland,
and commenced the most important of his geologiciil notices at IMount Jura,
where he found blocks of granite, gneiss, and mica slate, lying loosely on the
surface of mountains whose solid substance was entirely calcareous. At Lucerne
and Chamouni, he was prevented by adverse weather, from making his intend-
ed searches among the interior valleys. Towards winter he was about to
return, when he received a letter from the provost of Edinburgh, intimating
that the patrons of the university permitted liis absence during the ensuing ses-
sion— a circumstance which enabled him to prolong his tour a whole year.
After remaining for a month at Geneva, he entered Italy by the Simplon. In
the Academia del Cimento at Florence, his enthusiasm for philosophical history
was gratified by an inspection of the instruments made by Galileo, among which
was the original telescope, made of two pieces of wood, coarsely hollowed out,
and tied together with thread. On the 12th of November he set out for Pionie,
which he reached on the 18th. There he remained during the winter, occu-
pying himself with researches in the Vatican library, such geological observa-
tions as the neighboui'hood aflbrded, and the select English society always to
be found in the imperial city, among whom he found many of the friends he
had met in England. After the termination of the winter he Ment to Naples,
ivhere a wider field for geological observation lay before him. The observa-
tions which he made on this part of his route, not so much connected with the
action of the volcano as with the state of the surrounding country, are imbodied
in some interesting notes, an abstract of which may be found in the memoir
above referred to ; but it is to be regretted that the amount of so much accurate
obsen'ation was not brought to bear on his Analysis of the Theory of the
Earth. Mr Playfair returned to Rome, whence, after a second visit to Florence,
he proceeded, by such gradations as enabled him accurately to observe the
mineralogy of the country, to Geneva. While travelling through Switzerland,
he visited, and prepared a short but curious account of the Slide of Alpuach,
by which trees are conveyed from the sides of Pilatus into the lake of Lucerne,
whence they proceed through the Aur to the Rhine. On his return, he passed
through Venice, Lyons, and Pari3. In the ensuing summer he retired to
Burntisland, where he prepared a memoir on Naval Tactics, in illustration of
the discoveries of Clerk of Eldin, which was published after his death. He
had intended to publish in detached papers his observations on the remarkable
objects of his tour, and to have prepared his Illustrations of the Huttonian
Theory of the Earth, but he lived scarcely long enough to commence these la-
bours. For some years he had been afflicted with a strangury, which alarm-
ingly increased in the month of June, I8I9, and he died on the ensuing 19th
of July. He was buried on the 26th, when the members of the Royal Medical
Society, and a numerous body of public and private friends, followed him to
the grave.

The literary and domestic character of this great and excellent man, have
been drawn by Francis Jeffrey, with whom, as the writer of many papers in the
Edinburgh Review, Mr Playfair must have been on an intimate footing. The

136 -WILLIAM PLAYFAIR.

former part of tlie subject is open for the appreciation of the world, Lut as
the latter can only be told by one acquainted with it, we beg to extract a
portion. " The same admirable taste which is conspicuous in his writings, or
rather the higher principles i'roin \viii(:h titat taste was but an emanation, spread
a similar charm over his whole life and convci-sation, and gave to tlie most
learned philosopher of his day the manners and deportment of the most perfect
gentleman. Nor was this in him the result merely of gond sense and good tem-
per, assisted by an early familiarity with good company, and a consequent
knowledge of his oun place and that of all around him. His good-breeding
was of a higher descent ; and his powers of pleasing rested on something better
than mere companionable qualities. With tiie greatest kindness and generosity
of nature, lie united the most manly firmness, and tlie highest principles of
honour; and the most cheerful and social dispositions, with the gentlest and
steadiest afl'ections. Towai'ds women, he had always the most chivalrous feel-
ings of regard and attention, and was, beyond almost all men, acceptable and
agreeable in their society, though without the least levity or pretension unbe-
coming his age or condition. And such, indeed, was the fascination of the
perfect simplicity and mildness of his manners, that the same tone and deport-
ment seemed equally appropriate in all societies, and enabled him to delight
the young and the gay with the same sort of conversation which instructed the
learned and the grave. There never, indeed, was a man of learning and
talent who appeared in society so perfectly free from all sorts of pretension,
or notion of his own importance, or so little solicitous to distinguish himself, or
so sincerely willing to give place to every one else. Even upon subjects which
he had thoroughly studied, he was never in the least impatient to speak, and
spoke at all times without any tone of authority ; while so far from wishing to
set off" what he had to say by any brilliancy or emphasis of expression, it
seemed generally as if he had studied to disguise the weight and originality of
his thoughts under the plainest form of speech, and the most quiet and indil-
ferent manner ; so that the profoundest remarks and subtlest observations were
often dropped, not only without any solicitude that their value should be ob-
served, but without any apparent consciousness that they possessed any."

PLAYFAIR, William, an ingenious mechanic and miscellaneous writer,
brother to the preceding, Avas born in the year 1759. The personal history
of this man when compared with that of his brother, shows in striking colours
the necessity, not only of industry, but of steadiness and consistency of plan,
as adjuncts of genius in raising its possessor to eminence. Being very young
when his father died, his education was superintended by his brother. His
early taste for mechanics prompted his friends to place him as apprentice to a
mill-^vright of the name cf IMiekle. He afterwards went to England, and in
1780, was engaged as draughtsman in the service of BIr James Watt. Mow
long he remained in this situation we do not know, but the vast mass of
pamphlets which lie was unceasingly producing must have speedily interfered
Avith his professional regularity, and he seems to have spent the remainder of his
days in alternately making mechanical discoveries of importance, and penning
literary or political pamphlets. Among the most useful of his mechanical ef-
forts, was the unrequited discovery of the French telegraph, gathered from a
few partial hints, and afterwards adajited by an alphabet of his own invention
to British use. At the period when he was most busy as a writer, he received
no less than five patents for new inventions ; one of these was for the manufac-
ture of sashes, constructed of a mixture of copper, zinc, and iron. These he
termed Eldorado sashes. Another was for a machine for completing the orna-
mental part of fretwork on small implements of silver and other metal ; such as

WILLIAM PLAYFATR, 137

sugar tongs, buckles, &c., Avhich had previously been executed by the hand.
For some time lie occupied a silversmith's shop in London, but, tiring of the
business, or finding it unprofitable, he proceeded to Paris, where, among other
mechanical speculations, he procured an exclusive privilege for the manufacture
of a rolling mill on a new plan. While living in Paris, he was the means of
forming the colony of Scioto in America. Having formed an acquaintance with
Mr Joel Barlow, who had been sent to Paris to negotiate the disposal by lots
of three millions of acres which had been purchased by a company at New
York, on the banks of the Scioto, he undertook to procure for him the necessary
introductions, and to conduct the disposal. The breaking out of the French
revolution favoured the scheme. It was proposed that the lands should be dis-
posed of at 5s. per acre, one half to be paid at signing the act of sale, the
other to remain on mortgage to the United States, to be paid within two years
after taking possession. In less than two months 50,000 acres were sold,
and two vessels sailed from Havre de Grace, Avith the nucleus of the colony.
Soon after accomplisiung this project, he made a narrow escape from being ar-
rested by the revolutionary government, a fate which his strongly expressed
objections to the French revolution rendered a very likely event. On his re-
turn to London he projected a bank termed the Security Bank ; its object was
the division of large securities so as to facilitate small loans ; — this bank unfor-
tunately belied its name, and became insolvent, too little attention having been
paid to the securities taken. On the restoration of the Bourbons, he returned
to France, and became editor of Galignani's 3Iessenger, but he was driven back
to England by a libel prosecution, and continued to gain his subsistence by
essay-writing and translating. His works being in general connected with the
passing politics of the day, need not be all named and characterized. In
books and pamphlets, his distinct works are said to amount to about a hundred.
Se\eral were politico-economical in their subject, discussing the sinking fund,
the resources of France, the Asiatic establishments of Britain, the prospects of
the manufacturing interest, &c. His political remarks were generally for the
purpose of supporting and vindicating the conduct of Britain towards France,
and received the designation " patriotic." Among his principal publications
Avere a " History of Jacobinism," published in 1795 ; an edition of Smith's Wealth
of Nations, with Notes, in 1806 ; and " British Family Antiquities," in 9 vols. 4to,
published in 1809-11. This last work forms a Peerage and Baronetage of
Britain and Ireland. It contains a great mass of matter, and is splen-
didly illustrated, but it is not looked on by genealogists as a work of much au-
thority. He spent the last days of his laborious but irregular life without the
competence which well-directed talent generally acquires, and his death was
hurried on by anxiety of mind. He died in Covent Garden on the llth
February, 1823, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. " In private life," says a
biographer, ** IMr Playfair was inoffensive and amiable ; not prepossessing in his
appearance and address, but with a strong and decided physiognomy, like that
of his late brother. With a thoughtlessness which is too frequently allied to
genius, he neglected to secure that provision for his family, which from his
talents they were justified to expect ; and although he laboured ardently and
abundantly for his country, yet he found it ungrateful, and was left in age and
infirmity to regret that he had neglected his own interests to promote those ot
the public." '

I Annual Obituary, 1824, 460.

138 ROBERT POLLOK.

POLLOK, I'oBERT, author of llie " Course of 'lime,"' a poem, uas born in
17'J;), of respecLible parents, at IMuirliouse, in the parish of Jvigleshaiii, Ken-
freushirc. After acfjiiiriiig tlie riidiiiieiils of a literary eilucatioii in the country,
he passed througli a regular course of literary and pliilosopliical study at the
university of (jIasgo\v. Having sustained the ordinary previous presbjterial
examinations, he was admitted to tlie divinity liall, under tlic superintendeuce
of the late reverend Dr Dick of Glasgow, «ho at that time was sole professor of
tlieology in the united secession church. On finishing his course of five years'
study under this accomplished tutor, he was, by the united associate presbytery
of Edinburgh, licensed to preach the gospel, in the spring of 1827. The only
time he ever [reached was m the former chapel of Dr John Brown, iu Roso
Street, Edinburgh.

A short time before receiving license to preach, he had prepared his poem,
the " Coui'se of Time," wliich extends to tea books, m b'aulc verse, and
describes the mortal and immortal destiny of man, in language the nearest,
perluips to that of Milton, which has ever been employed by a later bard. It
has rarely happened that one so ycung has completed any work so extensive
as this, much less cue so successful ; and we may be allowed to surmise, that
the man who could form and execute such a design, at such a period of
life, must have possessed not only an intellect of the first order of power, but
a character of the first order of strength. On the recommendation of the
late celebrated John Wilson, professor of moral philosophy in the university of
Edinburgh, the " Coui-se of Time" was published by Blr Blackwood, early in
1827. Of the earlier attempts of 3Ir I'ollok in prose and verse, little is known.
He wrote three tales relative to the sufferings of the persecuted presbyterians of
the reign of Charles II., which were published anonymously in his lifetime, and
have since been reprinted with his name. They are manifestly juvenile and
hasty productions ; but they are the juvenile and hasty productions of a man of
genius. The labour of preparing his poem for publication, and carrying it
through the press, appears to have fatally impaired a constitution originally
vigorous. Soon after his license, symptoms of pulmonary disease having be-
come distinctly apparent, he spent the greater part of the summer of that year
with tlie reverend Dr Belfrage of Slateford, under whose hospitable roof he en-
joyed every advantage which medical skill, called forth into active exertion by
cordial friendship, could furnish.

As the disease seemed obviously gaining ground, it was suggested by Dr
Abercromby, and other eminent physicians, that a removal to a more genial
climate, during the approaching winter, was the only probable means of pro-
tracting a life so full of promise. It was therefore resolved on, that he should,
with as little delay as possible, set out for Italy ; and the means for prosecuting
such a journey were readily supplied by the admirers of his genius.

In the commencement of autumn he left Edinburgh, accompanied by a sister,
and travelled by a steam vessel to London. During the short time he remained
in that city, he resided at Camberwell, with the late John Pirie, Esq., afterwai'ds
Lord Mayor of London, to whom he had been introduced by a common friend,
and who, with chai'acteristic generosity, made every exertion to contribute to
his comfort ; and ceased not to take a deep interest in his happines?, till he
was called on to commit his remains to the grave.

After arrangements had been made for his voyage to Italy, his medical ad-
visers in London, fearing that he would never reach that country, recommended
his immediate removal to the south-west of England, and the neighbourhood of
Southampton was fixed on as a suitable situation. Having arrived there, he

ROBERT POLLOK. 139

took up Ills residence on Shirley-Common. His disease continued to make
progress, and in the course of a fen ueeks he fell a victim to its power, on the
15th of September, 1827. ** He died,"snys his biographer, "in the faith of the
gospel, and in the hope of eternal life."

He is buried in tlie church-yard of JMillbrook, the parish in uhich Shirley-
Common lies. Those admirers of his genius Avho would fain have prolonged
his life, have perpetuated their regard for him, by erecting an obelisk of Peter-
head granite oyer his grave, bearing, with the dates of his birth and death, the
following simple inscription : —

THE GRAVE

OF

ROBERT POLLOK, A.M.

AUTHOR OF " THE COURSE OF TIME."
HIS IMMORTAL POEM IS HIS

MONUMENT.

Such is a " faithful chronicle " of the principal external events in the short
life of Robert Pollok. Of the most important inward revolution of which
man's little world is susceptible, that change, without which a man " cannot enter
the kingdom of God," he has given the following most impressive account in
the " Course of Time." It is one of the most interesting fragments of auto-
biography Ave have ever met with, and compensates, in some measure, for the
meagreness of the present sketch ; which, imperfect as it is, seems all that cir-
cumstances will permit to be gathered together respecting Pollok. The ex-
tract, though perhaps rather too long for such a purpose, will also serve as a
specimen of the poetry produced by the subject of our memoir. It will re-
mind many readers of some passages of a similar kind, of exquisite beauty, in
Cowper.

One of this mo(xl I do remember weli

We name him not, what now are earthly names ?

In humble chvelling boni, retired, remote ;

In rural quietude, 'mong hills, and streams,

And melancholN' deserts, where the smi

Saw, as he passed, a shepherd only, hero

And there, watching his lilOe flock, or heard

The ploughman talking to his steers ; his hopes,

His morning hopes, awoke before him, smiling,

Among the dews and holy mountain airs;

And fancy colouied them with every hue

Of heavenly loveliness. But soon his dreams

Of childhood fled away, those rainbow dreams

So innocent and fair, that withered Age,

Even at the grave, cleared up his dusty eye.

And passing all between, looked fondly back

To see them once again, ere he departed :

These fled away, and anxious thought, that wished

To go, yet whither ! new not well to gn,

Possessed his soul, and held it still awhile.

lie listened, and heard from far tiie voice of f.ime,

Htiard and was charmL-d : and deep a;i 1 sudden yow

140 ROBERT POLLOK,

Ol'risolutit'ii made to l)c nnowiicil;

And di'oper vowed again to kci-p his vow.

His parents saw,, his parents wiioni God made

Of kinilest heart, saw, and indulged his hope.

The ancient page he turned, read much, thougiit much,

And with old bards of honourable name

Pleasured his soul severely; and looked up

To lame, ambitious of no second place.

Hope grew from inward faith, and promised fair.

And out before him opened man}- a path

Ascending, wlicre the laurel highest waved

Her branch of endless green. He stood admiring;

But stood, admired, not lung. The harp he seized,

The harp he loved, loved belter than his life,

The harp which uttered deepest notes, and held

The ear of thougiit a captive to its song.

He searched and meditiited much, and whiles,

"With rapturous hand, in secret, touched the l^re.

Aiming at glorious strains ; and searched again

For theme deserving of immortiil verse •,

Chose now, and now refused, unsatisfied ;

Pleased, then displeased, and lasitating siill.

Thus stood his mind, when round him came a cloud,
Slowlj- and heavilj- it came, a cloud
Of ills we mention not : enough to say
'Twas cold, and dead, impenetraljle gloom.
He saw its dark approach, and saw his hopes.
One after one, put out, as nearer still
It drew liis soul ; but fainted not at first,
Fainted not soon. He knew the lot of man
\Vas trouble, and prepared to bear the worst;
Endure whate'er should come, without a sigh:
Endure, and drink, even to the very dregs,
The bitterest cup that time could measure out:
And, having done, look up, and ask for more.

He called philosoph)', and with his heart
Reasoned. He called religion too, but called
Kekictanlly, and therefore was not heard.
Ashamed to be o'ermatched by earthly woes.
He sought, and sought with eye that dimmed apace,
To find some avenue to light, some place
On which to rest a hope ; but sought in vain.
Darker and daiker still the darkness grew.
At length he sunk, and Dis.ippointment stood
His only comforter, and mournfully
Told all was past. His interest in life,
Jn being, ceased : and now he seemed to feel.
And shuddered as he felt, liis powers of mind
Decaying in the spring-time of his day.
The vigorous, weak became; the char, obscure;
IVlemor} gave up her charge; Decision reeled;
And from her flight, Fancy returned ; returned
Because she found no nourishment abroad.
The blue heavens withered ; and the moon, and sun,

TvOBERT PONT. 141

And all the stars, and the green earth, and morn
And evening, withered ; and the eyes, and smiles,
And fiices of all men and women, withered,
Withered to him; and all the universe.
Like something which had been, appeared, but now
Was dead and mouldering fast awa}-. He tried
I No more to hope ; wished to forget his vow,

Wished to forget his harp; then ceased (o wish.
That was his last; enjoyment now was done.
He had no hope ; no wish, and scarce a fear
Of being sensible, and sensible
Of loss, he as some atom seemed, which God
Had made superfluous!}', and needed not
To build creation with ; but back .igain
To nothing threw, and left it in the void.
With everlasting sense that once it was.

Oh ! who can tell what da.vs, what nights he spent.
Of tideless, waveless, sailless, shoreless woe?
And who can tell how man}-, glorious once.
To others and themselves of promise full,
Conducted to this pass of human thought,
This wilderness of intellectual death.
Wasted and pined, and vanished fiom the earth,
Jjeaving no vestige of memorial there.

It was not so with him. When thus he lay,
Forlorn of heart ; withered and desolate,
As leaf of Autumn, which the wolfish winds,
Selecting from its falling sisters, chase.
Far from its native grove, to lifeless wastes,
And leave it there alone, to be forgotten
Eternall}', God passed in mercy by —
His praise be ever new! — and on him breathed,
And bade him live, and put into his hands
A holy harp, into his lips a song,
That rolled its numbers down the tide of Time,
Ambitious now but little to be praised,
Of men alone; ambitious most to be
Approved of God, the Judge of all ; and have
His name recorded in the book of life.

The " Course of Time" was only beginning to attract attention at the time
when its author's ear was about to be closed, alike to the voice of censure and
praise. Almost immediately after his death, it became extensively read
throughout the British empire, especially among the numerous and respectable
classes of dissenters. It has, accordingly, passed through a considerable num-
ber of editions, and now appears likely to keep its place among the standard
poems in our language. A portrait of the author was obtained by the reverend
Dr John Brown, of Edinburgh, before his departure for London, and has been
engraved. It conveys the impression of deep and grave intelligence, such as
might have been expected from the author of the " Course of Time."^

PONT, Robert, a churchman, judge of the court of session, and political
and scientific writer of some eminence, Avas born at Culross, cir. 1524 30

« ^ This article is copied, (by permission,) with a few slight additions, from the pieface to
Tales of the Covenanters, by Robert Pollok, A. M." Edinburgh, W. Oliphani, 1833.

142 ROBERT FONT.

of honourable, if not noble' ]»arcntan;e. Af:er receiving his elementary edu-
cation at tlie school of his native place, he uas, in 1513, incorjiorated a student
of St Leonard's collon^e in St Andrews, where he prosecuted llie study of jdii-
losopliy and divinity with great success. From the period of his leaving the
university, no notice of liiui has been discovered, till I55'J, when he is men-
tioned as an elder in the kirk session record of St Andrews. His intimate know-
ledge of law, renders tlie supposition probable, that the interval was enijiloyed
in tiiat branch of study at some of the continental universities. He seems to
have early embraced tlie protestant party. lie was an elder of St Andrews
from a very early period, and attended, as one of tlie commissioners from that
place, the first General Assembly, by which he was declared qualified for minister-
ing and teaching. In the year 1 5G3, he competed for the office of superintendent
of the diocese of Galloway. He appears to have failed in the attempt, but was
shortly after appointed commissioner of the diocese of 31oray. In 1500, he
published, with the sanction and command of the General Assembly, a " Transla-
tion and Interpretation of the Helvetian Confession." In January, 1571, he was,
through the same influence, appointed to the provostry of Trinity college, Edin-
burgh, and afterwards to the vicarage of St Cuthberl's churclu At the same period
he followed the directions of his party by excommunicating the bishop of Orkney,
who had performed the marriage ceremony to 3Iary and Both well. Policy at
this time dictated that the judi<;ial dignities which had been conferred on the
Roman catholic churchmen should be extended to the new church, of which the
members, while their general principles were rather averse to the system, pos-
sessed some share of personal ambition, and in 1571, the regent proposed that
Pont should be appointed a senator of the College of Justice. The zealous
cliurchnian declined acceptance without the sanction of the assembly, and on the
12lh January, 1572, that body gave license " to the said Mr Piobert to accept
and use the said place of a senator in the said College of Justice, what tyme he
shall be required thereto, providing all wayes, that he leave not the office of the
ministrie, but that he exercise the same as he sould be appoynted be the kirke, and
this their license to the said Mr Robert to be no preparative to no uther minis-
ter to procure sic promotione, unless the kirkc's advyse be had of before, and
license obtained thereunt )." The natural consequence of such an appointment
seems to have taken place, and in the following year, he was charged with
neglect of duty in non-residence, and not sufficiently visiting the churches in
3Ioray, an accusation to which he very naturally pleaded want of leisure from
the pressure of his new duties. In 1574, Mr Pont was appointed colleague to
William Ilarlaw, minister of St Cuthbert's church, lulinburgh. He was now
employed in all the more important business of the church : he was appointed,
in 1574, to revise all books that were printed and published; about the same
period he drew up the calendar, and rules for understanding it, for Arbuthnot
end Bassandyne's edition of the Bible ; and he was engaged in the preparation
of the Second Book of Discipline. In 15S2, he was invited to become minister
of St Andrews, and seems to have accepted the appointment, but he was soon
obliged to abandon it; for at the General Assembly, held in April, 1533, he
declared that, " with losse of his heritage and warldlie commotlitie, he had pro-
ponit to sit down in St Andrews, and had served athis awin charges ane haill geir,

1 !\Ir Crichton (Life of I\Ir J. Blackader, p. 15, note) 5.133, that his f;tther, John du Pon«,
or da Ponte, was a noble Venetian ; that he was banished his country for professing the re-
formed rt-ligioii, and came over to Scotland in the tr.iin of ;Mar\- of Guise, queen of James
V. This statement Sijcms irreconcilable with his son having been born at Culross at the
time above mentioned. (Buchanan de lllust. Scot. Scriplor. IMS. Adv. Lib.) It must
rilso be remarked, that the name was common in bcolland long before this time.

TIMOTHY PONT. 14^3

aiid culd not half any equall condition of leving, ria not the least provision."
lie accordingly returned to his charge at the West churcli. In ISSi, uhea
James struck a blow at the church, by rendering it criminal to decline the juris-
diction of the privy council, and to hold assemblies witi'.out the royal permission,
Pont added his name to the list of the gallant defenders of the church, by solemn-
ly protesting against the acts as they were published at tlie cross of Edinburgh,
on the ground that they had been passed without the knowledge or consent of
the churcli Two days before, (SSrd May, I5S1,) he had been deprived
of his seat in the College cf Justice, by an act prohibiting ecclesiastics to
hold civil appointments, and he now, with many of the clergy, who were
alarmed at so bold an inroad, fled to England. He returned to Scotland
with the earl of Angus and his party, a few months afterwards, and re-
sumed his ministerial duties. In 15S7, he was nominated to the bishopric
of Caithness ; but the assembly refused to ratify the appointment. In
1591, tlie assembly appointed him to write against sacrilege; his Three
Sermons on tliat subject were approved of, and ordered to be printed by the
Presbytery of Edinburgh, November 12, 1594 (See Records), but from some un-
known cause, were not published till 1599. In 1594, he published " A New
Treatise on the right reckoning of Yeares and Ages of tlie World," for the
purpose of showing that the year IGOO was not, as his countrymen supposed,
the proper year of the jubilee. In 1601, he was appointed by the General
Assembly to revise the Psalms. In 159G and 1602, he was chosen com-
missioner of Orkney, and his name was first in the list of those who were
intended for the qualified prelacies. In 1604, he published a tract on
tiie union of the kingdoms, " De Unione Britanniae, seu de Kegnorum Angli^e
ct Scoliae omniuraque adjacentiuai insularum in unam Monarchiam consolidatione,
deque raultiplici ejus Unionis utilitate Dialogus." Mr Eraser Tytler, who ap-
pears to have perused it, says," " This political treatise, which is written in La-
tin, in the form of a dialogue between three fictitious speakers, Irenaeus, Poly-
histor, and Hospes, is chiefly valuable from its furnishing us with some curious
pictures of the political state of the covntry, and the rude manners of the times.
* # * The picture he presents of the intolerable tyranny of the nobles in
their strong and remote fortresses, of the impotency of the arm of the law, and
the personal terrors of the judges, who trembled before these petty princes, very
completely proves that there was no poetical exaggeration in the vtrses of Sir
Richard 3Iaitland." Pont died on the 8th May, 160G, and was interred, it is
said, in the church of St Cuthbert's, where a monument was erected to his memory,
with an epitaph, partly in English, partly in very questionable Latin. He had
prepared a more ample edition of his work on the Jubilee Year, which was pub-
lished in quarto, in 1619.^ Besides these works Pont wrote Chronologia de
Sabbatis, published at London in 1626. His Aureum Seculum, his Transla-
tion of Pindai-'s Olympic Odes, his Dissertation on the Greek Lyric Metres, his
Lexicon of Three Languages, and Collection of Homilies, all of which David
Buchanan says he saw in IMS. are now nowhere to be found.

PONT, TmoTHT, the celebrated geographer \\ho prepared the " Theatrum
Scotise," in *' Bleau's Atlas," was the eldest son of the preceding, apparently
by his first wife, Catharine 31asterton, daughter of Masterton of Grange.

2 Life of Sir Thomas Crai^, 213.

3 Sibbaldi tJibliotheca Scotica ( .M S. Adv. Lib. ) 224, 225. In the second part of this work,
there is put down to tlie name of KobeiMus Pontanus, " Parvus Catechismus quo txaminari
possunt qui ad sacram coenam admiltiuitur." Anrlrean. 1573. For a more full arcount of
Pont, see History of the Church and Parish of St Cutlibeits, Edinburgh, 1S29, pp. 20—41,
and Wodrow's Biog. (xjJl. vol. i.

14-4 SIR JOHN PRTKOT,?.

Scarcely anytljinjj of Iiis personal liistmy aiiitcavs to be known. He sctMiis to
have bocomo a minister ol' the Scottish cliurch, ami is mentioned in the Book of
Assignations, 1(J01-S, as "minister of Dwnet."' Sir Robert Sibbahl (l)e Ilistor.
Scot. 31?. Ad, Lib. ji. 2.) mentions a pedestrian expedition undertaken by him,
in IGOS, to explore tha morj barbarous j)arls of tlic country. '* He was,"
says bisiiop Nicholson," by nature and education a complete malhcmatician, and
the first projector of a Scotch Atlas. To that great purpose, he personally survey-
ed all the several counties and isles of the kingdom ; took draughts of 'em upon
the spot, and added such cursory observations on the monuments of antiquity, and
other curiosities as were proper for the furnishing out of future descriptions. He
was unhappily surprised by death, to the inestimable loss of liis countrey, when
he had well nigh linish'd his papers, most of which were fortunately retrieved
by Sir John Scott, and disposed of in such a manner as has been already re-
ported. There are some other remains of tliis learned and good man, on the
' History of Agricola's Vallum, or Graham's Dike,' as are well worth the pre-
serving."" The originals of the maps so drawn up are preserved in good or-
der in the Advocates' library. They are minutely and elegantly penned, and
have the air of such laborious correctness, as the science of the period ena-
bled the geographer to attain. Pont appears to have penetrated to those wild
and remote portions of the island, the surfaces of which have scarcely yet
been accurately delineated. Sir Robert Sibbald mentions (De Histor. Scot, ut
supra), that after Font's death, his maps ^vere so carelessly kept by his heirs,
that they were in great danger of destruction from moths and vermin. King
James ordered that they should be purchased and given to the world ; but
amidst the cares of government they were again consigned for a season to oblivion.
At length Sir John Scott of Scotstarvet, to whose enlightened patronage we ouc
much of what is preserved of the literature of his times, prevailed with Sir Robert
Gordon of Straloch to revise and correct them for the press. The task was
continued by Sir Robert's son, Mr James Gordon, parson of Rothemay, and with
his amendments they appeared in Bleau's celebrated Atlas.

PRIN'GLE, (Sir) John, a distinguished physician and cultivator of science,
was born at Stitchel house, in Roxburghshire, April 10, 1707. He was the
youngest son of Sir John Pringle of Stitchel, Bart., by 3Iagdalen Elliot, sister
of Sir Gilbert Elliot of Stobs. His education was commenced at home under a
private tutor, and advanced at the university of St Andrews, where he had the
advanta^^e of living with his relation, IMr Francis Pringle, professor of Greek.
Havinf determined on physic as a profession, he spent the winter of 1727-8 at
the medical classes in Edinburgh, and afterwards proceeded to Leyden, where,
in 1730, he received his diploma, which was signed by the distinguished names
of Boerhaave, Albinus, and Gravesande, under whom he had studied. He then
settled as a physician in Edinburgh, and in a few years had so much distin-
guished himself as to be, in 1734, appointed assistant and successor to the pro-
fessor of pneumatics and moral philosopliy in the university. He continued in
this situation till 1742, when, chiefly by the influence of Dr Stevenson, (an
eminent whig physician, and the patron of Dr Blacklock,) he was appointed
physician to the earl of Stair, then in command of the British army in EJanders.
By the interest of this nobleman, he was, in the same year, constituted physi-
cian to the military hospital in Flanders. An extensive field of observation
was thus opened to Dr Pringle : and that he cultivated it with advantage, is suf-
ficiently sliown by his " Treatise on the Diseases of the Army," subsequently
published. At the battle of Dettingen, he was in a coach with the minister,
» M'Crie's Melville, 2nd edition, ii. 428. 2 Scottish Historical Library, 24

sill JOHN PRINGLE. 145

lord Caileret, and, at one particular crisis of the action, was involved in toii-
siderable danger. On the resignation of the earl of Stair, he also proposed re-
signing, but was prevented by his lordship, whom he accompanied, however,
forty miles on his way to England, as a mark of his respect. Having gained
equal favour with tlie duke of Cumberland, Dr Pringle was, in March, 1745,
appointed physician-general to the forces in the Low Countries, and pliysician
to the royal hospitals in the same countries. He now resigned his Edinburgh
professorship, the duties of which had been performed by deputy in his absence.
In the latter part of the year 1745, he returned to Britain, in attendance upon
the forces which were brought over to suppress the rebellion. In passing
through London in October, he was chosen a Fellow of the Royal Society.
Early in the ensuing year, he accompanied the duke of Cumberland to Scot-
land, and remained with the army, after the battle of Culloden, till its return
to England, in the middle of August. In 1747 and 174S, ho again attended
the army abroad.

After the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, in the latter year, he settled as a physi-
cian in London, under the patronage of the duke of Cumberland, who, in
April, 1749, appointed him his physician in ordinary. In 1750, Dr Pringle
published liis first work, a pamphlet on the Jail and Hospital Fever, hastily
prepared, to meet the exigency of the breaking out of that distemper in I>on-
don. It was afterwards revised, and included in the work on tlie diseases of
the army.

About this time, Dr Pringle commenced his ecientific career, by reading a
series of papers to the lioyal Society, on septic and antiseptic substances, ar.d
their use in the theory of medicine; which procured for their author the honour
of Sir Godfrey Copley's gold medal, and not only gave him reputation as an
experimental philosopher, but helped to stimulate the spirit of physical inquiry,
then rising into force in Britain. A great variety of other papers by Dr Pringle
are found in the Transactions of the Society, during the four ensuing years.
In 1753, he married Charlotte, the second daughter of Dr Oliver, an eminent
physician in Bath ; who died a few years after, leaving him no children. In
the same year, he published his great work on the diseases of the army, which
instantly placed the author in the first rank of medical writers. In 1761, he
was appointed physician to the household of the young queen Charlotte ; an
honour which was followed, in rapid succession, by the appointments of physi-
cian extraordinary, and physician in ordinary, to her majesty. He now be-
came an intimate and confidential persoia in the family of the king, who, in
170G, raised him to the dignity of a baronet of Great Britain. In 1768, he
was appointed physician in ordinary to the king's mother, the pi-incess of
Wales, with a salary of one hundred pounds a-year.

After having for many years acted as a member of the council in the Royal
Society, he was, in November, 1772, elected president of that distinguished
body ; by far the highest mark of honour he ever received. It has always, on
the other hand, been acknowledged, that the zeal and assiduity displayed by Sir
John in this situation, communicated an impulse to the exertions of the society,
of which the most sensible proofs are to be found in its Transactions, published
during the years of his presidency. The last medical honour conferred on Sir
John Pringle was his appointment, in 1774, as physician extraordinary to the
king.

It would be wearisome to repeat the list of honours showered upon him by
foreign learned bodies ; we shall only allude to his succeeding Linnseus, in
1778, as one of the eight foreign members of the French Academy,

Long ere this period. Sir John had acquii-ed a considerable fortune by Mi

lY. X

146 SIR FTENRY RAEBURJJ.

practice and from other sources, and lived in a style of dignified hospitality^
suitable to his high character. Ife was in the habit of h(>idiii»^ conversations
on tlie Sunday evenings, whicli nere attended by men of literature and science
from all <;ountries. After passing his seventieth year, feeling his healtii de-
clining, he resigned the presidency of the Rojal Society, in which he was
succeeded (1778) by 3Ir (afterwards Sir) Joseph Haid\s, and formed the
resolution of retiring to spend the remainder of his days in his native
country. Having passed the summer of 1780 very pleasantly in Scotland,
he purchased a house in Edinburgh, sold off that in whicli lie had long re-
sided in London, and in the spring of 17S1 made a decided remove to the
Scottish capital. It seems to have been the hope of the declining veteran,
that he might more agreeably sink to rest amidst the friends and the scenes
of his youth, than amongst strangers ; and he also contemplated much plea-
sure in the regular evening conversations, for which he intended to throw
open his l.ouse. It is painful to relate, that he \\as disappointed in his views.
The friends of his youth had almost all passed away ; the scenes were changed
to such a degree, that they failed to suggest the associations he expected. The
society of Edinburgh he found to be of too limited a nature, to keep up a sys-
tem of weekly conversations with the necessary degree of novelty and spirit.
He also surt'ered considerably from the keen winds, to Avhich Edinburgh is so
remarkably exposed. These evils were exaggerated by his increasing infirmi-
ties, and perhaps by that restlessness of mind, which, in the midst of bodily
complaints, is still hoping to derive some benefit from a change of place. He
determined, therefore, to return to London, where lie arrived in the beginning
of September.

Sir John Pringle did not long survive this change of resilience. On the
evening of the llth of January, 1782, while attending a stated meeting of
scientific friends in the house of a Mr Watson, a grocer in the Strand, he was
seized with a fit, from which he never recovered. He expired on the 18th, in
the serenty-fifth year of his age, and was interred in St James's church. Sir
John left the bulk of his fortune to his nephew, Sir James Pringle of Stitchel,
who also inherited from him the British baronetcy, in addition to that of Nova
Scotia, which the family had previously possessed. As a physician and a philo-
sophical inquirer, his character was of the first order ; nor were his private
virtues less eminent. He never grudged his professional assistance to those who
could not afford to remunerate lum ; and he was a sincere, though liberal and
rational, jn-ofessor of the truths of religion. His conduct, in every relation of
life, was upright and honourable. He informed 3Ir Boswell — and few gentle-
men of that period could make such a boast — that he had never in his life been
intoxicated with liquor. There is a monument to Sir John, by NoUekins, in
Westminster Abbey.

R

RAEBUHN, (Sir) Henry, a celebrated portrait-painter, was the younger
son of 3Ir William Raeburn, a respectable manufacturer at Stockbridge, near
Edinburgh, where he was born, 4th IMarch, 1756. While very young he had
ihe misfortune to lose both his parents ; but this want was supplied to him, as
much as it could be by his elder brother William, who succeeded to the busi-
ness, and acted always to him the part of a father. It has been represented
by some of Sir Henry's biographers (perhaps with a view of making the after

SIR HENRY RAEBURN. 147

a<;qu*irenients of the subject of the biography more remarkable), that he received
his education at Heriot's Hospital, a well known and benevolent institution in
Edinburgh ; but this is not the fact, his brother William having Avilli heart-
felt satisfaction given him the scanty, but usual education of that period. In
the usual routine of education he was not remarked to display any superiority to
his class fellows, but when they were drawing figures on their slates or copy
books, those of Raebum surpassed all the rest ; but this did not lead any fur-
ther. In other respects he was distinguished by the aflection of his compan-
ions, and formed at that early period intimacies with some of those distinguished
friends whose regard accompanied him through life. The circumstances of
young Kaeburn rendering it necessary that he should, as early as possible,
be enabled to provide for his own support, he was at the age of fifteen
appi'enticed to a goldsmith, who kept his shop in a dark alley, leading be*
tween the Parliament Square and the front of the Old Tolbooth. Here, with-
out receiving any lessons, he began to amuse himself by sketching figures, and
ultimately by painting miniatures.' His master, at first incensed by his apparent in-
attention to business, was afterwards astonished by the merit of his performances,
and, with a liberality hardly to have been expected, conducted him to a place
where he might gather the means of improvement in his self-assumed art, namely,
the studio of Mr David Martin, the principal portrait-painter in Edinburgh. He
was delighted with the works there presented to his eye ; and 3Iartin, on the
other hand, spoke encouragingly to the young artist. His miniatures soon be-
came so famous, that commissions came rapidly in, and he generally painted
two in the week. As this employment, of course, withdrew his time almost en-
tirely from trade, he made an arrangement with his master, by which the latter
was compensated for the loss he incurred on that account. While still an ap-
prentice, he began to paint in oil, and on a large scale. To aid him in this
task, he obtained from Martin the loan of several pictures to copy ; but that
painter did not contribute advice or assistance in any other shape ; and having
once unjustly accused the young student of selling one of the copies, Raeburn
indignantly refused any farther accommodation of this nature. Having begun,
however, to paint large oil pictures, he soon adopted them in preference to
miniatures, a style which he gradually gave up ; nor did his manner in later
life retain any trace of that mode of painting : all was broad, massy, and
rigorous.

He had thus become a painter almost by intuition ; for there is no ascertain-
ing that he ever received any direct instructions in the mysteries, or even in
the manual operations, of his art. It was in his twenty-second year, and when

1 " It was in this situation," says the late Dr A. Duncan, senior, " thatmy first acquaintance
with liim commenced, and that,'too, on a melancholy occasion. Mr Cliarles Darwin, son of
the justly celebrated Dr Erasmus Darwin, author of that much esteemed poem, ' The Bo-
tanic Ga'rden,' and of other works demonstrating great genius, died during the course of liis
medical studies at Edinburgh. At that time I had the honour, though a very young medi-
cal lecturer, of ranking Danvin among the number of my pupils. And I need hardly add,
that he was a favourite pupil : for, during his studies, he exhibited such uncommon proofs of
genius and ijidustry, as eould not fail to gain the esteem aiid affection of every discerning
teacher.

" Un the death of young Darwin, I was anxious to retain some slight token in remem-
brance of my highly esteemed young friend ; and, for that purpose, I obtained a small portion
of his hair. I applied to Mr Gilliland, at that time an eminent jeweller in Edinburgh, to
have it preserved in a mourning ring. He told me, that one of his present apprentices was a
young man of great genius, and could prepare for me in hair, a memorial that would demon-
strate'both taste and art. Young Raeburn was immediately called, ana proposed to execute,
on a small trinket, which might be hung at a watch, a muse weeping over an urn, marked
with the initials of Charles Darwin. This trinket was finished by Raeburn in a manner
which, to me, afiorded manifest proof of very superior genius, and I still preserve it, as a me-
morial of the singular and early merit, both of Darwin and of Raeburn."

148 SIR HENRY RAEBURN.

jnnctising regiilaily as a rival of his old friend IMartin, that he became ac-
(jiiaiiited, iiiuler extratirdinary cirniiiistaiicos, >vith tlie lady who became his
wife. " One day," says liis most animated biograjilicr," " a young lady pre-
sented herself at his studio, and desired to bit fur her portrait. He instantly
reiueuibcred liavinq; seen her in some of liis exiMirsions, when, witli his sketclu
buolc in his liand, he was noting down some fine snatches of seenery ; and, as the
appearance of any thing living and lovely gives an additional »;harni to a land-
scape, the painter, lilte (Tainsborough, in similar circumstances, had readily
admitted her into liis drawing. This circumstance, he said, had had its influ-
ence. On further acquaintance, he found that, besides personal charms, she
had sensibility and wit. I lis respect for her did not aU'ect his skill of hand,
but ratiier inspired it, and he succeeded in making a fine portrait. Tlie lady,
Ann lulgar, the daughter of Peter Edgar, esfjuire, of Bridgelands, was much
pleased with the skill, and likewise with the manners of the artist ; and about a
month or so after the adventure of the studio, she gave him her hand in mar-
riage ; bestowing at once an afFectionate wife, and a handsome fortune."

Having now- the means of improving in his art, he set out for London, and
was introduced to Sir Joshua Keynolds, who treated him with distinguished
liberality and kindness, even to the extent of oflering him money to prosecute
his studies in Rome, which he uas not aware that Raeburn did not need. Fur-
nished with introductions by this eminent person, he set out for the capital of
the arts, accompanied by his wife. At Rome, lie was considei-ably indebted
for advice to Mr Gavin Hamilton, and likewise to Mr Byers, who gave him the
excellent counsel never to copy any object from memory, but, from the principal
figure to the minutest accessory, to have it placed before him. To the observ-
ance of this rule, Raeburn imputed in a great measure, the improvement
which was observed in his subsequent pictures.

His powers now fully matured, he returned in 1787 to his native city, and
set up his easel in a fashionable house in George Street. The works of 3Iar-
tin — though certainly better than the biographers of Raeburn delight to repre-
sent them — were so much eclipsed by the junior artist, that the whole tide of
employment left the one painter for the otiier. In vain did the veteran pro-
phesy that this fever of approbation could not last, and that " tlie lad in George
Street " painted better before he went to Rome. The nation persisted in be-
ing of another opinion, and Martin was at last obliged to retire from the field
in despair. Raeburn at once assumed that pre-eminent rank in his profession,
which, notwithstanding the multitude of rivals who afterwards rose around him,
he bore to the day of his death.

The subsequent history of this artist, is chiefly that of his pictures. For
thirty-six years he was constantly employed in his professional duties, and
painted the most of the eminent persons who lived in Scotland during that
time. Unfortunately no record has been preserved of his various works ; but
they are to be found in almost every distinguished mansion in the country.*

2 I\Ir Allan Cunningham, in liis Lives of British Painters.

Henry IMackenzie. General the earl of Hopetoun, with horse.— [Three quarters length.}
Captain G. Buff, of the Mars, who fell at Trafalgar. Neil Gow, with his fiddle. Dr Alex-
ander Adam. James Pillaiis, professor of humanity, Edinburgh. John Clerk, of Eklin.
Charles Hope, president of the court of session. Robert Macqueen of Braxfield, in justiciary
robes. Hon. Henry Erskiiie. Dugald Stewart, professor of moral philosoph}-. James
Greo-'orv, M. D. Robert Hlair, president of the court of session. (Jeorge the Fourth,
Robert'Dundas, president of the court of session. John Elder, provost of Edinburgh, in his
robes Wiiram Creech, bookseller. Professor Thomas Hope. Dr Hugh Blaii'. James

SIR HENRY RAEBURN. 149

Having stored his mind with ideas drawn from the purest school of modem art,
he was indebted for his subsequent improvement solely to his own reflections,
and the study of nature. He was never in the habit of repairing to London ;
and, indeed, he did not visit that metropolis above three times, nor did he re-
side in it altogether more than four months. He was thus neither in the habit
of seeing the works of his contemporaries, nor the English collections of old
pictures. Whatever disadvantage might attend this, it never stopped the career
of his improvement. Probably, indeed, it had the effect of preserving that ori-
ginality which formed always the decided character of his productions, and kept
him free from being trammelled by the style of any class of artists. Perhaps,
also, the elevation and dignity of style which he always maintained might be
greatly owing to his exclusive acquaintance with the works of the Italian mas-
ters. In English collections, the Dutch specimens are necessarily so prominent,
both as to number and choice, that a familiar acquaintance with them must be
apt to beget a taste for that homely truth, and minute finishing, in which their
merit consists.

The first excellence of a portrait, and for the absence of which nothing can
atone, must evidently be its resemblance. In this respect, Sir Henry's eminence
was universally acknowledged. In the hands of the best artists, there must, in
this part of their task, be something precarious ; but, in a vast majority of in-
stances, his resemblances were most striking. They were also happily distin-
guished, by being always the most favourable that could be taken of the indi-
vidual, and were usually expressive, as well of the character as of the features.
This desirable object was effected, not by the introduction of any ideal touches,
or any departure from the strictest truth, but by selecting and drawing out
those aspects under which the features appeared most dignified and pleasing.
He made it his peculiar study to bring out t!ie mind of his subjects. His pene-
tration quickly empo\vered him to discover their favourite pursuits and topics of
conversation. Sir Henry's varied knowledge and agreeable manners then easily
enabled him, in the coui-se of the sitting, to lead them into an animated discus-
sion on those ascertained subjects. As they spoke, he caught their features,
enlivened by the strongest expression of which they were susceptible. While
he thus made the portrait much more correct and animated, his sitters had a much
more agreeable task than those who were pinned up for hours in a constrained
and inanimate posture, and in a state of mental vacuity. So agreeable, indeed,
did many of the most distinguished and intelligent among them find his society,
that they courted it ever ai'ter, and studiously converted the artist into a friend
and acquaintance.

Besides his excellence in this essential quality of portrait, Sir Henry possess-
ed also, in an eminent degree, those secondary merits, which are requisite to
constitute a fine painting. His drawing was correct, his colouring rich and
deep, and his lights \vell disposed. There was something bold, free, and open

Balfour Esq., golier,— [Half length.] Rev. Dr Andrew Hunter, professor of divinity.
George Jardine, professor of logic, Glasgow. Justice clerk INIacquceii. Lord chief baron
Dundas. Ha)-, lord Newton. Rev. Dr David Jolinston, minister of North Leitli. Rev.
Dr John Erskine. Dr James Hamilton. John Gra}', Esq., golfer. Professor Plaj fair.'
Sir Walter Scott, when young; Ditto, when older. Sir John Sinclair of UHisler, Bart.
Tytler of Woodhouselee. Harry David Inglis advocate. Sir Henry Raeburn. Dr George
Hill, principal of St Andrews. Rev. Archibald Alison. J\Ir Francis Jeffrey. Henry
Cockburn. liOrd Meadowbank. — The following are portraits which, with many others, have
not been engraved : Sir Henry Stewart of Allanton. Mr Benjamin Bell, suigeon. Mr
Leonard Horner. Mr Henry Raeburn, the painter's son. The duke of Hamilton. Lord
Fredeiick Campbell. The laird of Macnab, in highland costume. Earl of Breadalbare.
Sir John Douglas. Marquis of Huntly. Sir John Hav. Archibald Constable. Rev. F.
Thomson. Sir John and Lady Clerk. Mr Rennie, engineer. Dr Lindsay-, Pinkieburn.
Dr Alexander Duncan.

150 SIR HENRY RAEBURy.

ill the ^vliole style of liis execution. ITie accessories, whether of drapery, fur-
niture, or laiidsrapcs, were treated with elcpanre and spirit; yet \\itliout that
elaborate and brilliant (inishinsf, uliich makes them become {jrincipals. These
pai-ts were always kept in due subordination to the human figure; «iiile of it,
the head came always out as the prominent part. Animals, particularly that
noble species the horse, were introduced willi peculiar felicity ; and Sir
Henry's efjuestriaii ])ortraits are perhaps his very best perfomiances. The
able manner in which the animal itself was drawn, and in ^^hich it was com-
bined with the liuman figure, were equally conspicuous.

In private life, Kaeburn was remarkable for his courteous and amiable man-
ners, and his great domestic worth. While his painting-rooms were in George
Street, and latterly in York Place, he resided in a sequestered villa called St
Bernard's, near the village where he drew his first breath, then distant from,
but now engrossed in, the extending city, — where he amused his leisure hours
by the society of his cliildren and grand-children, the cultivation of his garden,
and the study of ship-building, and some other mechanical pursuits, for which
he had a liking. The hours between nine and four he almost invariably spent
in his studio. He latterly found another kind of employment for his leisure,
in planning out the environs of his little villa, which consisted of about ten acres,
in lots for building, and in designing the architectural elevations of a little
group of streets with which the ground was to be occupied. It may
readily be supposed that in this task he manifested a superiority of taste,
corresponding in some measure with his supremacy in another branch of
art. The suburb which has arisen upon his property, and which was only com-
menced in his own lifetime, is accoi'dingly conspicuous for the elegance dis-
played both in its general arrangement and in its details ; and has become a
favourite residence with such individuals as do not find it necessary for profes-
sional reasons to live nearer the centre of the city.

In 1814, Raeburn was made an associate of the Royal Academy, and in the
subsequent year he became an Academician. He afterwards obtained, from
foreign countries, many honours of the same kind. In 1822, when George IV.
visited Scotland, the long-established fame of Raeburn, together with his for-
tune and gentlemanly manners, pointed him out as an individual in whom the
king might signify his respect for Scottish art, and he was accordingly knighted
at Hopetoun House, on the last day of his majesty's residence in the country.
Some weeks afterwards, his brethren in art, now increased to a large and re-
spectable body, gave him a dinner, as a token of their admiration of his talents
and character. In his speech on this occasion, he said modestly that he was
glad of their approbation, and had tried to merit it ; for he had never indulged
in a mean or selfish spirit towards any brother artists, nor had at any time
withheld the praise which was due to them, when their works happened to be
mentioned.

Sir Henry received afterwards the appointment of portrait-painter to his
majesty for Scotland; a nomination, however, which was not announced to
him till the very day when he was seized with his last illness. The king, when
conferring the dignity of knighthood, had expressed a wish to have a portrait
of himself painted by this great artist; but Sir Heni-y's numerous engagements
prevented him from visiting the metropolis for that purpose. It reflects gi'eat
honour on the subject of this memoir, that he never gave way to those secure
and indolent habits, which advanced age and established reputation are so apt
to engender. He continued, with all the enthusiasm of a student, to seek and
to attain farther improvement. The pictures of his two or three last years are
unquestionably the best that he ever painted. Eut perhaps the most interesting

ALLAN RAMSAY. 151

part of his recent works consists in a series of lialf-length portraits of eminer.t
Scotsmen, which, daring this period, he executed for his private gratification.

This amiable and excellent man was suddenly affected with a general decay
and debility, not accompanied by any visible complaint This state of illness,
after continuing for about a week to baffle all the efforts of medical skill, ter-
minated fatally ou the 8th July, 1S23, when he liad reached the age of G7.

Few men were better calculated to command respect in society, than Sir
Henry Raeburn. His varied knowledge, his gentlemanly and agreeable man-
ners, an extensive command of anecdote, always well told and happily intro-
duced, the general correctness and propriety of his whole deportment, made him be
highly valued by many of the most distinguished individuals in Edinburgh,
both as a companion and as a friend. His conversation might be said in some
degree to resemble his style cf painting, — there was the same ease and simpli-
city, the same total absence of affectation of every kind, and the same manly
turn of sense and genius. But we are not aware, that the humorous gayety and
sense of the ludicrous, which often enlivened his conversation, ever guided his
pencil.

Sir Henry Raeburn, like Raphael, Michael Angelo, and some other masters
of the art, possessed the advantages of a tall and commanding person, and a
noble and expressive countenance. He excelled in archery, golf, and other
Scottish exercises; and it may be added, that, while engaged in painting, his
step and attitudes were at once stately and graceful.

JBy his lady, who survived him ten years. Sir Henry had two sons ; Peter,
a youtk of great promise, who died at nineteen ; and Henry, who, with his
wife and family, lived under the same roof with his father during the whole of
their joint lives, and was his most familiar friend and companion. To the
children of this gentleman, the illustrious painter left the bulk of his fortune,
chiefly consisting of houses and ground- rents in the suburb of St Bernard's.

RAMSAY, Allan, the celebrated poet, was born at tlie village of Leadhills,
in Lanarkshire, October 15, 1686. His parentage was highly respectable, and
his ancestry even dignified. His father, Robert Ramsay, was manager of the lead
mines ia Crawfordrauir, belonging to the earl of Hopetoun ; and his mother,
Alice Bower, was the daughter of a gentleman who had been brought fx-oni
Derbyshire, to introduce and oversee some impi'ovements in the management of
the mines. His grandfather, Robert Ramsay, writer or notary in Edinbui-gh,
was the son of captain John Ramsay, a son of Ramsay of Cockpen, whose
family was a branch of the Ramsays of Dalhousie, afterwards ennobled.^ A
grandmother of the poet, moreover, was Janet Douglas, daughter of Douglas of
JMuthil. Though thus well descended, he was reared in the midst of poverty.
He had the misfortune to lose his father while he was yet an infant ; and his
mother seems almost inmiediately to have married a Mr Crighton, a small
landholder in the neighbourhood. Whetlier this last circumstance was an addi-
tional misfortune, as has been generally assumed by his biographers, we think
may reasonably be questioned. It is not at all probable that his father, dying
at the age of twenty-five, could have much property ; and tl;e use and wont of
even a small landholder's liouse, is not likely to have been beneath that of a
poor widow's. His mother had a number of children to IMr Crighton ; but the
subject of this memoir seems to have been cared for in the same way as those
were, and to have enjoyed all the advantages appropriate to the same station

' The lairJ of Cockpen here mentioned, is usually represented as a brother of Ramsay of
Dalhousie; but the branch seems to have left the main stock at a much earlier period than
that would implv. Tiie first Kamsay of Cockpen was a son of Sir Alexander Uamsay, who
was knighted at the coronation of James 1., in 14^4.

152 ALLAN HAM SAY.

in life. He hail the benefit of the parish scliool till he was in liis fiftetmh
year; an extent of education not yet coiiinion in .Scotland, except when at-
tendance on the university is included. Of tiie progress he liad made in his
studies, we liave unfortunately no [.articular account ; it certainly made him ac-
quainted with Horace, as is abundantly evident in his poems.

In tlie year 1700, Ifainsay lost his mother; and in the follo^\ing year his
step- father carried him into lulinburgh, and aj)prenticed him to a periuig-niaker,
whicii appears to have been at that tin\e a nourishing profession. IJamsay him-
self, it is said, wished to have been a painter; and his stepfatlier has been re-
flected on as acting with niggardly sharp-sightedness, in refusing to comply with
his wishes. There is not, however, in the numerous writings of llamsay, one
single hint that any violence was, on this occasion, done to his feelings ; and
we think the reflection might well have been spared, Tiiose who have borne
the burden of rearing a family upon Tmiited means, know the impossibility of
indulging either their own wishes, or those of their children in this respect,
being often obliged to rest satisfied, not with what they would have wished, but
with what they have been able to attain. There can be no doubt that
Allan Kams.ay served out his apprenticeship honourably, and afterwards for a
number of years practised his trade as a master successfully ; circumstances that,
in cur opinion, justify the discretion and good sense of his step-father, more
powerfully than any reasoning could do. It is to be regretted that of this
period of his life, no accounts have been handed down to us ; and the more so,
that we have no doubt they would show his general good sense, and the steady
character of his genius, more powerfully than even the latter and more flourish-
ing periods of his history. Unlilie the greater number of men of poetical
talent, Ramsay had the most perfect conunand over himself; and the blind
gropings of the cyclops of ambition within, led him to no premature attempts to
attain distinction. Though he must have entertained day-dreams of immortality,
he enjoyed them with moderation ; and, without indulging either despondency
or dejection, he waited with patience for their realization. Prosecuting his
business with diligence, he possessed independence ; and, while, in the com-
pany of respectable fellow citizens, he indulged and in.proved his social quali-
ties, he, by taking to wife an excellent woman, Christian Ross, the daughter of
a writer in Edinburgh, laid the foundation of a lifetime of domestic felicity.

It was in the year 1712, and in the twenty-sixth year of his age, that he
entered into the state of matrimony ; and the earliest of his productions that
can now be traced, is an epistle to the most happy members of the Easy Club,
dated ihe same year. This club originated, as he himself, who was one of its
members, informs us, " in the antipathy we all seemed to have at the ill humour
and contradiction which arise from trifles, especially those that constitute Whig
and Tory, loitJiout having the grand reason for if." This club was in fact
formed of Jacobites, and the restoration of the Pretender was the "grand
reason " here alluded to. In the club every member assumed a fictitious name,
generally that of some celebrated writer. Ramsay, probably from the Tatler,
which must have been a book much to his taste, pitched upon that of Isaac
Bickerstafl", but afierv.ards exchanged it for th.it of Gawin Douglas. In the
presence of this club, Ramsay was in the habit of reading his first productions,
^vhich, it would appear, were published by or under the patronage of the
fraternity, probably in notices of its sittings, which would tend to give it cele-
brity and add to its influence. The elegy on 3Iaggy Johnston seems to have
been one of the earliest of his productions, and is highly characteristic of his
genius. An Elegy on the death of Dr Pitcairne in 1715, was likewise read be-
fore, and published by, the clnb ; but being at once political and personal, it

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