Citation
Clever boys of our time, and how they became famous men

Material Information

Title:
Clever boys of our time, and how they became famous men dedicated to youths and young men anxious to rise in the world
Creator:
Johnson, Joseph, b 1822
Herbert, R.
Stephenson, J. ( Engraver )
Stanesby, Samuel ( Illuminator )
Bessent, T.
Place of Publication:
London
Publisher:
Darton and Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
viii, 280, <10> p., <10> leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 18 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Success -- Juvenile literature.
Ability -- Juvenile literature.
Bldn -- 1864.
Literature for Children
Boys -- Biography -- Juvenile literature
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London.

Notes

General Note:
Halkett & Laing, v. 9 gives the date 1861 for this title.
General Note:
Added title page, engraved.
General Note:
Added title page and frontispiece illuminated in colours by Sam. Stanesby and printed by T. Bessent.
General Note:
Illustrations engraved by R. Herbert after J. Stephenson.
General Note:
Publisher's advertisements follow text.
Funding:
Brittle Books Program
Funding:
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
Statement of Responsibility:
by the author of "Famous Boys," and "Heroines of our Time."

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026827435 ( aleph )
AAA4055 ( notis )
ALH2626 ( notis )
19707555 ( oclc )
48435570 ( oclc )

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ILLUMINATED BY SAM’ STANESBY.











CLEVER BOYS

AND

Hoto they became Famous Wen.

DEDICATED TO

YOUTHS AND YOUNG MEN ANXIOUS TO RISE
IN THE WORLD.

BY THE AUTHOR OF

**FAMOUS BOYS,” AND “ HEROINES OF OUR TIME.”

“ There is a presumption, amounting almost to certainty, that if any one
will determine to be eminent, in whatever profession he may choose, and will
act with unvarying steadiness in pursuance of that determination, he will, if
health and strength be given, infallibly succeed.” —Srm Ropgrt PEEL,

Third Hvition.

LONDON:
DARTON AND CO., 58, HOLBORN HILL.



"As in walking it is your great care not to ran your foot upon a
nail, or to tread awry, and strain your leg; so let it be in all the
affairs of human life, not to hurt your mind, or offend your judg-
ment, And this rule, if observed carefully in all your deportment,
will be 3 mighty security to you in your undertakings.” —EPICTERTUs.



CONTENTS.

+
LORD MACAULAY . . .-
MICHAEL FARADAY . . e
CHARLES DICKENS . . .
RICHARD COBDEN . . .
CHARLES BIANCONI . . .
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK . . .
WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN . .
WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS .
SIR JOHN FRANKLIN . °
WILLIAM SHAW LINDSAY . .
JOSEPH HUME . . .
WILLIAM DARGAN . . .
ABEL HEYWOOD . . .
DOMINICO-FRANCOIS ARAGO . °
THOMAS SPENCER . . .
SIR DAVID BREWSTER . . .
WILLIAM HOWIIT . . .
RIGHT HON. B. DISRAELI . .
FRANCIS HORNER . . .

JOSEPH BROTHERTON . . .

PAGE

30

40

64

86

93
101
113
128
147
156
171
180
198
209
225
234
240
251
274





Hist of Gngrabings.

—_———
. PaGB
MACAULAY AT THIRTEEN YEARS OF AGE—“ TELLING BOOKS” 3
FARADAY’S MASTER DESCRIBING THE ELECTRICAL MACHINE MADE
BY HIM IN HIS LEISURE HOURS . . . . 384
DICKENS PLACING HIS FIRST LITERARY CONTRIBUTION IN THE
EDITOR’S BOX . . . a . - 44
YOUNG COBDEN ENTERING A LONDON WAREHOUSE TO PUSH HIS
WAY IN THE WORLD . . . . - 64
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK IN THE ROYAL ACADEMY, STUDYING - 94
WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS ENTERING EDINBURGH POOR
AND FRIENDLESS . 7 . . : - 115
FRANKLIN ENTERING THE NAVY AS A PETTY OFFICER . . 129

LINDSAY WORKING HIS PASSAGE TO LIVERPOOL IN THE ENGINE
ROOM OF THE STEAMER ., . . : . 147



PREFACE.

N° books are read with so much avidity or with

" so much profit as books of biography. The life-
story of great men is a theme of wondrous power.
Whence they came, their carly diflicultics, the
barriers to their progress, their failures, their suc-
cesses, and their ultimate triumphs, are severally
invested with a charm of marvellous interest. The
youth who has indolently foregone opportunities of
improvement, in common with the young man who
has been allured by the syren influences of pleasure
to forget the carnestness of life, as well as the man
of mature years just entering on the “sear and
yellow leai,”’ are equally interested and profited by
the recital of the incidents in the lives of the men
who have “made their mark” on the times in which
they lived. Precept, in such cases, can bear no
comparison with example. The incredulous and de-
sponding may doubt the realization of the precept;
but point to example—to the instance where probity
and industry have succeeded a life of listless idleness;
to the man of broken fortunes, who has arisen from



vi PREFACE,

the wrecks of a disappointed life, building up for
himself a reputation, and attaining a needed pro-
vision for his declining years—surely such an instance
would nerve the hopeless, filling him afresh with
confidence and resolution that he also will succeed !

And equally profitable, if faithfully told, is the life
of the man who has not succeeded. To know why,
the pitfalls in which he fell, the rocks on which he
was wrecked, the temptations which led to his ruin,
this to the wise is priceless knowledge.

But leaving utility out of the question, in mere
interest fiction cannot be compared with fact. The
thrilling narrative of the most imaginative novelist is
exceeded by the unvarnished tale “all too true.”
Hair. breadth escapes, dangers by flood and field,
perilous adventures, wonderful discoveries, the meta-
morphosis of the rough boy into the famous man—
one day: the associate of the stable, and then the
companion of princes; one day living in the utmost
obscurity, and then attaining a reputation resounding
throughout Europe —these are the materials, the
fascinating details of the biographer. Is it any
wonder, then, that “lives of great men” are dearly
treasured volumes in the home of peer or peasant ?

Generally, it is considered that the age of wonders
is passed, that all great things have been achieved, and
that the men who were miracles of attainment lived at
a period quite remote from the present. ‘ Although
the race of literary mammoths has become extinct,”



PREFACE. vii

said the auditor of the Dublin College Historical
Society, ‘literature has grown into a huge bulk.”
Where, then, is the proof that ‘‘ mammoths ” do not
exist mow as much as in the past? Are there not
living men, or men who have lived in our time, whose
productions will bear comparison with the literary
creations of the intellectual giants of any period?
This is true also in regard to spoken words as much
as it is true of written thoughts. However much we
may value the prelections of a Demosthenes or a
Cicero, the compositions of a Burke, a Fox, a Wynd-
ham, or a Sheridan, we cannot be insensible to the
fact that there are living celebrities whose orations
have equalled, if they have not exceeded, the greatest
oratorical triumphs of Greece or Rome. There are
men also, many of them filling important positions of
national trust, who are the possessors of immense
wealth and influence, who have risen from the lowest
strata of society, and who occupy their proud posi-
tions in virtue not of fortunes left them, some lucky
windfall, or the discovery of a golden store; but by
virtue of the resolution and determination with which
they have prosecuted their life-struggle, which might
have ended in death, but which they had resolved
should never end in defeat, their motto being, “ While
life lasts, fight on.” Be the age, or time, or circum-
stances what they may, such resolution must be
crowned with success. Not more surely will the
harvest of golden grain reward the labours of the hus-



vill PREFACE.

bandman who ploughs the ground and casts in the
seed, than material rewards will follow every effort
of honest, determined, pains-taking industry.

In mental labours, which are truly their own re-
ward, securing on the instant, in the communion of
the great and good of all time, the highest enjoyment
of which our capacities are susceptible, are there not
men who were thrown upon the world in their earliest
years, without friends, education, or prospects, who
now command by their mental possessions universal
esteem and admiration, whose cultured talents entitle
them to lead public opinion, whose names grace the
title pages of learned treatises, and who are the most
graceful, as they are the most useful, public speakers
of the time ?

When any youth, then, utters a dolorous plaint that
the “ good time” was “long, long ago,” and who
achieves nothing, because he does not attempt some-
thing, irresolution and inaction having like a blight
settled upon him ; let him stimulate himself to activity
by the perusal of the following pages, where, in a few
selected instances of living notabilities, he will find
illustrations of those who have acquired fortune, fame,
and mental wealth under the discouragements of
singular difficulties and most adverse circumstances.















































Macaulay at thirteen years of age— telling books.”



CLEVER BOYS
6 OF Our Time. |



LORD MACAULAY.

A TRADER’S SON, POET, ORATOR, ESSAYIST, AND
HISTORIAN.



Wirs the last shadows of Eighteen hundred and fifty-
nine, the spirit of the great historian departed ;
famous beyond compare in every task he undertook,
marvellous in the monetary value of his writings, which
will influence ages yet unborn, and be studied by the
future historian for their facts, as well as the student
anxious to acquaint himself with the most brilliant
author of the nineteenth century.

Of such a poet, orator, historian, and essayist, it
were worth while to inquire somewhat of his earlier
years. His father, Mr. Zachary Macaulay, without
attempting or aiming at the popularity subsequently
attained by his son, was one of the foremost men in
the anti-slavery agitation of 1883. He was not, like

B



2 LORD MACAULAY.

his son, famous for his gift of public speaking; his
services, therefore, were confined to the committee-
room and the editorial chair. Having resided both
in Africa and the West Indies, his practical acquaint-
ance with the matters in controversy imparted rare
value to his counsels, while his acute and powerful
pen was in constant requisition to prepare reports,
memorials to Parliament, pamphlets, and articles for
the periodical press. Like his son, he was celebrated
for his memory ; his mind was said to be an encyclo-
pedia of anti-slavery facts. And then, seeking no
honour in his work, he was satisfied that his labours
were of use in the cause he had espoused. Gladstone
paid him a graceful tribute in 1841, when speaking
on the subject of slavery. “There is,” said he,
“another name still more strongly associated with it.
I can only speak from tradition of the struggle for the
abolition of slavery; but if I have not been misin-
formed, there was engaged in it a man who was the
unseen ally of Mr. Wilberforce, and the pillar of his
strength—a man of profound benevolence, of acute
understanding, - of indefatigable industry, and of that
self-denying temper which is content to work in
secret, to forego the recompense of present fame, and
to seek its reward beyond the grave. The name of
that man was Zachary Macaulay.”

Thomas Babington Macaulay, afterwards Lord
Macaulay, was, as we have seen, the son of a very
worthy man, engaged in trade. _He did not inherit



HIS WONDERFUL MEMORY. 3

greatness—he achieved it. He was not born a lord;
his elevation to the peerage was a recognition of
his services to his country—the embellishment and
improvement of its literature. He first saw the light
at Rothley Temple, Leicestershire, in the year 1800.
‘His mother, Sarah Mills, had been the favourite pupil
of Mrs. Hannah More. Doubtless this was the
reason why the great moralist manifested unusual
interest in all that concerned little Tom, who. was
educated, for his first thirteen years, at home;
and, judging from results, his early training was
most admirable and judicious. Before his thirteenth
year, the little fellow was celebrated as a very apt
student. One writer says: “From his birth he
exhibited signs of superiority and genius, and more
especially of that power of memory which startled
every one by its quickness, flexibility, and range.”
While he was yet a boy he was in incessant request
to “ tell books” to his playmates. At that early date
he would repeat and declaim the longest “ Arabian
Night,” as fluently as Scheherazade herself. A little
later he would recite one of Scott’s novels—story,
characters, scenery—almost as well as though the
book were in his hand. But these pleasures were
not encouraged. The household books were the
Bible, the “ Pilgrim’s Progress,” and a few Came-
ronian divines. An eager and dramatic appetite
found food for fancy in the allegories of Scripture,
and even in the dry sectarian literature of Scottish
B2



4 LORD MACAULAY.

controversy. He himself used to tell an amusing
story of a nursery scene. For every one who came
to his father’s house he had a Biblical nickname,
Moses, Holofernes, Melchisedek, and the like. One
visitor he called The Beast. His parents frowned at
their precocious child, but Tom stuck to his point.
Next time The Beast made a morning call, the boy
ran to the window, which hung over the street, to
turn back laughing, crowing with excitement and
delight. “ Look here, mother,” cried he, ‘‘ you see I
‘am right. ‘Look, look at the number of the Beast.”
Mrs. Macaulay glanced at the hackney-coach; and,
behold its number was 666 !

Tn after-days Macaulay wrote some words on the
tender beaming affection of a mother’s love, in
which we have a delightful glimpse of the regard
entertained by the young poet towards his mother,
and of the richness and fulness of her love.

Children,” he wrote, “ look into those eyes, listen
to that dear voice, notice the feeling of even a single
touch that is bestowed upon you by that gentle hand!
Make much of it while you have that most precious
of all good gifts—a loving mother. Read the un-
fathomable love of those eyes; the kind anxiety of
that tone and look, however slight your pain. In
after-life you may have friends—fond, dear, kind
friends ; but never will you have again the inexpres-
sible love and gentleness lavished upon you, which
none but a mother bestows. Often do I sigh, in my



HIS LOVE FOR HIS MOTHER. 5

struggles with the hard, uncaring world, for the sweet,
deep security I felt, when of an evening, nestling to
her bosom, I listened to some quiet tale suitable to
my age, read in her tender and untiring voice. Never
can I forget her sweet glances cast upon me when I
appeared to sleep; never her kiss of peace at night !
Years have passed away since we laid her beside my
father in the old churchyard, yet still her voice
whispers from the grave; and her eye watches over
me as I visit spots long since hallowed to the
memory of my mother.”

When the young critic had attained his twelfth
year, his parents held a long and earnest conference
on the propriety of sending him to the Westminster
School. Mrs. Hannah More, who was consulted,
approved of the arrangement on one condition—that
Master-Tom should be a day-scholar only. She in-
sisted upon his returning every evening, to recount
at the fire-side the impressions of the day. In no
advice ever given did this good and great woman
manifest more wisdom, or indicat a clearer insight
into the depths of human nature.

_ The advantage of Tom’s attendance at the West-
minster School would be manifested in the competitive
spirit which would be engendered. At home, with-
out the stimulus of companions, it was not likely that
he would put forth very energetically his rare natural
powers. And yet, advantageous as this arrangement
seemed, it was not contemplated without misgivings.



6 LORD MACAULAY.

His nature was pure and simple; he had no bad
propensities ; it was felt, therefore, to be a dangerous
experiment to bring him into contact with the rough,
and, in too many instances, uncultured boys of a great
academy. It was hoped, notwithstanding, that his
intense love for his mother, which amounted to a
passion, would shield him from many of the petty
evils incidental to a public school.

This plan, however, was not carried into effect ; for
some unstated reason, the future historian was sent
to the private academy conducted by the Rev. Mathew
M. Preston, at Shelford, near Cambridge, prior
to which he had commenced the practice of composi-
tion. One of his earliest productions, of which there
is now no trace, was a poem descriptive of a sad acci-
dent which happened to the huntsman or whipper-in
of Childe Hugh, who fell into the cauldron in which
the meat for the hounds was boiled. A dolorous
subject indeed! At this time, according to Mrs.
Hannah More, his devotion to literature was truly
astonishing. He was also, at this early age, famous
for his conversational powers. An earnest debate is
recorded between him and a young Woolwich friend,
who was qualifying for the artillery, relative to the
comparative merits of Eugene and Marlborough !
Hannah More records how she endeavoured at this
period to make him subscribe to Sir Harry Savile’s
notion, that poets are the best writers, next to those
who write prose—but it was labour in vain. At one



EARLY AMUSEMENTS. 7

of the breakfasts of this excellent lady he recited the
whole of Bishop Heber’s “ Palestine,” and, according
to her testimony, recited it incomparably. She records
the fact that thus early his ordinary conversation
was characterised by great accuracy, spirit, and viva-
city. He was not at the same time above or un-
mindful of childish things. He was as much “amused
with making a pat of butter as a poem ;” but very
obedient withal—never persisting in doing anything
of which his friends disapproved. Mrs. More says,
on the occasion of one of his visits, “ Sometimes we
converse in ballad rhymes, sometimes in Johnsonian
sesquipedalians; at ten, we condescend to riddles and
charades. He rises early, and walks an hour or two
before breakfast, generally composing verses. I en-
courage him to live much in the open air; this, with
great exercise on these airy summits, I hope will in-
vigorate his body ; though this frail body is sometimes
tired, the spirits are never exhausted. He is, how-
ever, not sorry to be sent to bed soon after nine, and
seldom stays to our supper.”

During his visit to Barley Wood, he composed a
poem, a satire on radical reform, under the title of
“Clodpole and the Quack Doctor”’—rather early to
enter on the vexed sea of politics. It shows the
dawnings of an excellent perception, that these ema-
nations were no sooner produced than thrown aside.
He had a singular and natural aptitude for discrimi-
nating the true from the false in composition, which



8 LORD MACAULAY.

enabled him soon to discover that his own productions
were anything but perfect. Mrs. More relates that
in one of her conversations with him, on the subject
of the symptoms of a gentleman: “ He said, with
much good humour, that he had himself certain in-
fallible marks of one, which were neatness, love of
cleanliness, and delicacy in his person.” The Ma-
caulay of ’59 could have given no better definition.

Mr. Preston, in 1814, changed his residence from
- Shelford to Aspeden, near Herts. At this place
young Macaulay acquired fame as a studious an| ex-
traordinary. boy. He had by this time learned to
forget his early love for sports and pastimes. During
the play-hours he might be seen with his large head,
stooping shoulders, and pale face, reading or writing;
and even during his walks his custom was to read or
repeat poetry aloud. One of his early poetic compo-
sitions, in which he introduced the public men of the
period, is still extant :—

‘‘ Each, says the proverb, has his taste. "Tis true:
Marsh loves a controversy ; Coates a play ;
Bennett a felon; Lewis Way a Jew;

The Jew the silver spoons of Lewis Way ;
The Gipsy poetry, to own the truth,
Has been my love through childhood and in youth.”

In 1818, the embryo historian left the academy at
Shelford, and entered Trinity College, Cambridge.
Here his career was distinguished. Before his
twentieth year, he had gained the Chancellor’s medal



AT THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 9

for a poem on “Pompeii; and two years subse-
quently he was again invested with the same badge
for his poem on “Evening.” These poems, which
were published, were his introduction to the vesti-
bule of literature, in which he was afterwards to carve
out for himself so distinguished a place. Unlike most
other University prize poems, they were received with
distinguished public favour, which was deservedly ex-
tended to their young author. The next object of his
ambition was the highestclassical honour the University
confers—the second Craven scholarship—which he
obtained, and also his bachelor’s degree, in 1822.
Not being partial to mathematics was the reason
why he did not compete for honours. Out of regard,
however, to his great proficiency in other studies, he
was elected a fellow of his college. This position he
retained until his departure for India, in 1884,

There was another arena at college in which he
made a distinguished figure—the Union Debating
Society. Here he spent much of his time; here he
laid the foundation of that style which was afterwards
the admiration of the British senate, and which will
for all time furnish a model of elegance and eloquence,
valued alike by the student and matured orator.

His fame as a public speaker travelled beyond the
walls of the college. He was talked about by men
who had themselves achieved the highest position as
orators, whose prelections will bear comparison with
the most finished productions of the ancients. Lord



10 LORD MACAULAY.

Brougham wrote an admirable letter to the elder
Macaulay on the subject of his son’s gifts. The letter
is well worth transcribing ; in addition to the inte-
rest attached to it in connection with Macaulay, it
cannot be read and remembered by any one, in any
station of life, without admiration and profit.

“moO ZACHY. MACAULAY, ESQ.

ie “ Newcastle, March 10, 1823.

“My dear Friend,—My principal object in writing
to you to-day, is to offer you some suggestions, in
consequence of some conversation I have just had
with Lord Grey, who has spoken of your son (at
Cambridge) in terms of the greatest praise. He
takes his account from his son; but from all I know,
and have learnt in other quarters, I doubt not that
his judgment is well formed. Now, you of course
destine him for the bar; and assuming that this, and
the public objects incidental to it, are in his views,
I would fain impress upon you (and through you upon
him) a truth or two which experience has made me
aware of, and which I would have given a great deal
to have been acquainted with earlier in life with the
experience of others.

“ First. That the foundation of all excellence is to
be laid in early application to general knowledge is
clear: that he is already aware of; and equally so it
is (of which he may not be so well aware) that pro-
fessional eminence can only be attained by entering



LORD BROUGHAM’S LETTER, 11

betimes into the lowest drudgery, the most repulsive
labours of the profession ; even a year in an attorney’s
office, as the law is now practised, I should not hold
too severe a task, or too high a price to pay, for the
benefit it must surely lead to; but at all events the
life of a special pleader, I am quite convinced, is the
thing before being called to the bar. A young
man whose mind has once been well imbued with
general learning, and has acquired classical propensi-
ties, will never sink into a mere drudge. He will
always save himself harmless from the dull atmosphere
he must live and work in; and the sooner he will
emerge from it, and arrive at eminence. But what I
wish to inculcate especially, with a view to the great
talent for public speaking which your son happily
possesses, is that he should cultivate that talent in
the only way in which it can reach the height of the
art, and I wish to turn his attention to two points. I
speak upon this subject with the authority both of
experience and observation; I have made it very
much my study in theory; have written a good deal
upon it which may never see the light; and some-
thing which has been published; have meditated
much, and conversed much, on it with famous men;
have had some little practical experience in it, but
have prepared for much more than I ever tried, by a
variety of laborious methods; reading, writing, much
translation, composing in foreign languages, &c.; and
T have lived in times when there were great orators



12 LORD MACAULAY.

among us; therefore I reckon my opinion worth
listening to, and the rather, because I have the utmost
confidence in it myself, and should have saved a world
of trouble, and much time, had I started with a con-
viction of its truth.

“1, The first point is this: the beginning of the
art is to acquire a habit of easy speaking; and in
whatever way this can be had (which individual in-
clination or accident will generally direct, and may
safely be allowed to do so), it must be had. Now, I
differ from all other doctors of rhetoric in this: I say,
let him first of all learn to speak easily and fluently ;
as well and as sensibly as he can, no doubt, but at
any rate let him learn to speak. This is to eloquence
or good public speaking, what the being able to talk
in a child is to correct grammatical speech. It is the
requisite foundation, and on it you must build. More-
over, it can only be acquired young; therefore, let it
by all means, at any sacrifice, be gotten hold of forth-
with. But in acquiring it every sort of slovenly error
will be acquired. It must be got by a habit of easy
writing (which, as Wyndham said, proved hard read-
ing) ; by a custom of talking much in company; by
speaking in debating societies, with little attention to
rule, and mere love of saying something at any rate,
than of saying anything well. I can never suppose
that more attention is paid to the matter in such
discussions than to the manner of saying it; yet still
to say easily, ad libitum, to be able to say what you



MODELS OF ELOQUENCE. 13

choose, and what you have to say—this is the first
requisite, to acquire which everything else must for
the present be sacrificed.

“2, The next step is the grand one: to convert this
style of easy speaking into chaste eloquence. And
here there is but one rule. I do earnestly entreat
your son to set daily and nightly before him the
Greek models. First of all, he may look to the best
modern speeches (as he probably has already) ;
Burke’s best compositions, as the ‘Thoughts on the
Cause of the Present Discontents ;’ ‘Speech on the
American Conciliation,’ and ‘On the Nabob of Arcot’s
Debt ;? ‘ Fox’s Speech on the Westminster Scrutiny,’
(the first part of which he should pore over till he has
it by heart) ; ‘On the Russian Armament ;’ and ‘On
the War, 1808 ;? with one or two of Wyndham’s best,
and very few, or rather none, of Sheridan’s. But he
must by no means stop here; if he would be a great
orator, he must go at once to the fountain-head, and
be familiar with every one of the orations of Demos-
thenes. I take for granted that he knows those of
Cicero by heart ; they are very beautiful but not very
useful, except perhaps the ‘Milo pro Ligario,’ and
one or two more; but the Greek must positively be
the model; and merely reading it, as boys do, to
know the language, won’t do at all; he must enter
into the spirit of each speech, thoroughly know the
positions of the parties, follow each turn of the argu-
ment, and make the absolutely perfect, and most



14 LORD MACAULAY.

chaste and severe composition familiar to his mind.
His taste will improve every time he reads and repeats
to himself (for he should have the fine passages by
heart), and he will learn how much may be done by
a skilful use of a few words, and a rigorous rejection
of all superfluities. In this view I hold a familiar
knowledge of Dante to be next to Demosthenes. It
is in vain to say that imitations of these models won’t
do for our times. First, I do not counsel any imita-
tion, but only an imbibing of the same spirit.
Secondly, I know from experience that nothing is
half so successful in these times (bad though they be)
as what has been formed on the Greek models. I use
avery poor instance in giving my own experience ;
but I do assure you that both in courts of law and
parliament, and even to mobs, I have never made so
much play (to use a very modern phrase) as when I
was almost translating from the Greek. I composed
the peroration of my speech for the Queen, in the
Lords, after reading and repeating Demosthenes for
three or four weeks; and I composed it twenty times
over at least, and it certainly succeeded in a very
extraordinary degree, and far above any merits of its
own. This leads me to remark, that, though speaking
and writing beforehand is very well until the habit
of easy speech is acquired, yet after that he can never
write too much: this is quite clear. It is laborious,
no doubt, and it is more difficult beyond comparison
than speaking off-hand; but it is necessary to perfect



A STUDENT AT LINCOLN’S INN. 15

oratory, and at any rate it is necessary to acquire the
habits of correct diction. But I go further, and say,
even to the end of a man’s life he must prepare, word
for word, most of his finer passages. Now, would he
be a great orator or no? In other words, would he
have almost absolute power of doing good to mankind
in a free country or no? So he wills this, he must
follow these rules.
“ Believe me truly yours,
“H, Brovenam.”

Perhaps it was this letter which induced Macaulay
to go to the bar. When it was known that such was
his intention, it soon got noised abroad that a great
orator would shortly appear. The bar has always
been a favourite avenue to public life. To the literary
or political aspirant it presents the best opening to
either field of effort. Macaulay entered himself, there-
fore, as a student of Lincoln’s Inn, where, after eating
the prescribed number of dinners, he was duly called
to the bar in 1826. We have no means of ascertain-
ing the exact amount of attention which he devoted to
his legal studies. Itis more than probable, however,
imbued as his mind was at this period of his life with
the poetic and imaginative, that he had little relish for
the legal dry-as-dust studies of his inn, Whether he
ever intended to practise, after being called, is not
known; it is very likely that his only object was to
gain a more ready introduction to literary and public



16 LORD MACAULAY.

life. He went, however, one circuit at least: we
learn that, fact from a conversation of Sidney Smith.
Some one was speaking to the reverend critic of Ma-
caulay’s great powers when a young man, when he
replied, “ Yes, I take great credit to myself; I always
prophesied his greatness from the first moment I saw
him, then a very young and unknown man, on the
northern circuit. There are no limits to his know-
ledge, on small subjects as well as great; he is like
a book in breeches.”

Macaulay’s first-recorded public speech was de-
livered in 1824, on the subject of the infamous slave
trade—a theme, taking into account his antecedents,
his family associations, the bent and bias of his own
mind, peculiarly fitted for a first effort, upon which
occasion he might, if at any time, be expected to be
eloquent. That speech made Macaulay famous. It
was lauded by the “ Edinburgh Review,” and con-
demned by the “ Quarterly ;” the former the organ ot
the anti-slavery party, the latter the representative
of the planters and slave-owners. Mr. Wilberforce
said, in relation to the speech of the young lawyer,
that his old friend Zachary “ would, no doubt, joy-
fully bear all his apostleship brought upon him for
the gratification of hearing one so dear to him plead
such a‘cause in such a manner.”

It was this speech which introduced him to the
pages of the “ Edinburgh.” His first contribution
being in 1826, the “ Essay on Milton,” which, says



TWO MARVELLOUS BOYS. 17

friendly critic, “ was full of deep, thoughtful apprecia-
tion and splendid imagery, and polished till it was,
while a model of the simplicity of nature, a marvel of
the world of art. Indeed, the talent displayed in
this single production was sufficient, not only to stamp
the author as a writer of the highest grade, but to
bring him into close intimacy with Mr., afterwards
Lord Jeffrey.” Macaulay himself, however, criticis-
ing this first production, has referred to it as being
“overloaded with gaudy and ungraceful ornament.”
“Written,” says he, ‘‘ when the author was fresh from’
college,”’ it contains scarcely a paragraph such as his
mature judgment approves.” This essay was not his
first published prose composition. He had previously
contributed some papers to the “ Etonian,” a school
publication, with which Winthrop Mackworth Praed
was connected. Miss Mitford, in subsequently refer-.
ring to the two contributors, said: “It is now nearly:
thirty years ago that two youths appeared at
Cambridge, of such literary and poetical promise as
the University had not known since the days of
Gray. What is rarer still, the promise was kept. One
of these marvellous boys turned out a man of world-
wide renown, the spirited poet, the splendid orator,
the brilliant historian, the delightful essayist—in a
word, Thomas Babington Macaulay, now, I suppose,
incontestably our greatest living writer.”

After the Milton paper, its young author ania
himself to literature with the utmost industry. “He

c



18 LORD MACAULAY.

wrote poetry, he wrote essays, he wrote imaginary con-
versations, he wrote critiques, he wrote in every form.”
To Knight’s “ Quarterly Magazine ” he became the
principal contributor, under the assumed name of
“ Tristram Merton.” His earliest contributions to that
journal were “ Fragmentsofa Roman Tale,” an “ Essay
on West Indian Slavery,” and a paper on “ The Royal
Society of Literature.” The second volume of the
journal contained from his pen “Scenes from
Athenian Revels,’ “Songs of the Huguenots,”
** Criticisms on the Principal Italian Writers; No. 1.
Dante ;”” two “Songs on the Civil War; 1. The
Cavalier’s March to London; 2. The Battle of
Naseby ;” “ Criticisms on the Italian Writers ; No. 2.
Petrarch ;” and “Some Account of the Law-suit
between the Parishes of St. Denis and St. George in
the Water, Part 1.” In the third and last volume,
as it proved, the names of contributors were not
given. It is very probable that “A Conversation
between Mr. Abraham Cowley and Mr. John Milton,
touching the great Civil War,” “The Athenian
Orators,” ‘ Milford’s Greece,’ and a paper entitled
“A Prophetic Account of a National Epic Poem—
The Wellingtoniad,” were by Macaulay.

The reason Mr. Knight discontinued his “ Quarterly
Magazine” was owing to the difficulties he experi-
enced in connection with his young gifted contri-
butors. “‘ The present number, ” he wrote, will be the
last, the real cause of its stoppage being a Chancery



A BREAKFAST AT ETON. 19

injunction, which was issued to suppress the previous
number, containing Byron’s correspondence.” To
celebrate the ‘“breaking-up” of the serial, an Eton
breakfast was determined upon, to which the boys,
on the outside of the old “ Royal Windsor,” had gone
down to meet their friends. In the last paper of the
Magazine an account is given of the doings of
the morning. Amongst those present were “ Vy-
vyan Joyeuse,” “ Edward Haselfoot,” “ Heaviside,”
“Vernon,” “Sir Thomas,” and “ Gerard.’ Betwixt
breakfast and dinner criticisms and papers were read
on Byron and Shelley. At the dinner, writes the
Magazine contributor, they mustered very strong.
“JT have not had, many hours of my life, more
exquisite enjoyment than this meeting with so many
that I love and admire. There was ‘ Hales’ (Cole-
ridge), whom we had not seen for a twelvemonth,
with his calm look of gentlemanly self-possession ;
‘Merton’ (Macaulay), with his quick glance of pene-
tration and decision; ‘Murray,’ with his retiring
politeness, which gave an additional charm to the
power of his intellectual smile; ‘ Vyvyan,’ with his
cordial good-humour and his graceful badinage.”
Leaving this joyous company, let us proceed with
the gifted “ Merton” to the House of Commons, to
which he was elected by the inhabitants of Calne,
a seat in the nomination of Lord Lansdowne, in the
year 1831. His first speech, to which considerable
public attention was attached, was on the subject of
c2



20 LORD ‘MACAULAY.

the “ Disabilities of the Jews ;” this was followed by
one on the “ Reform Bill.” _ The part he took in the
discussion of this great measure placed him in the
front rank of the foremost orators of the time. Sir
James Mackintosh, of all men most capable to form
an opinion, said, in reference to the fourth night of
the debate: “ Macaulay and Stanley made two of the
finest speeches ever spoken in Parliament.” Lord
Jeffrey, who may be styled the father of critics,
said, in reference to another occasion: ‘ Mac. is
a marvellous person; he made the very best speech. ©
that has been made this session on India, a few:
nights ago, to a house of less than fifty. The
Speaker, who is a severe judge, says he rather thinks
it the best speech he ever heard.” ek

When the Reform Bill became law—a. measure to
which Macaulay had. so: materially contributed—he
was returned to the new Parliament by the newly
enfranchised borough of: Leeds. Soon after he had
taken his seat, he received an appointment to the
secretaryship of the Board of Control; and sub-
sequently a seat ‘at. the East India Company’s
Supreme Council at Calcutta. His stay in India was
limited to four. years, returning in the year 1838.
While there, the task upon which he was employed.
was the reconstruction of the criminal law; and,
taking into account the limited time at his disposal.
to study the habits and peculiarities of the people.
for whom he was legislating, it is not wonderful that



DISINCLINATION FOR OFFICE. 21

he signally failed. But, unsuccessful as he unquestion-
ably was in law-making, his visit to India was of
essential service. While there he collected the
materials for the most brilliant of his essays on
Clive and Warren Hastings.

When he returned to England in 1838, he was
invited to offer himself as a candidate for the
representation of Edinburgh. In his letter in reply
to the invitation he said, “I have already, since my
return from India, declined one lucrative and honour-
able office, that of Judge-Advocate; and I think I
may safely venture to promise that I will never hold
any Office, however high, except under circumstances
in which it would be wrong and dishonourable to
decline it. I dislike the restraints of official life. I
love freedom, leisure, and letters. Salary is no object
to me, for my income, though small, is sufficient for a
man who has no ostentatious tastes.” On the 29th
of May, 1839, he addressed the electors in the Music
Hall, and on the 4th of June he was duly elected
the representative of the ancient city. A few months
afterwards, on his becoming Secretary at War, he
was re-elected without opposition. This was the
case, also, at the general election of 1841.

Soon after this election, he was solicited to
continue a previous custom of the members of the
city, and contribute towards the race funds. To
this application, which he viewed as a species of
corruption, he replied in a manly letter, in which he



22 LORD MACAULAY.

said, “In the first place, I am not clear that the
object is a good one. In the next place, I am clear
that by giving money for such an object, in obedience
to such a summons, I should completely change the
whole character of my connection with Edinburgh.
It has been usual enough for rich families to keep a
hold on corrupt boroughs, by defraying the expense
of public amusements ; sometimes it is a ball, some-
times a regatta. The Derby family used to support
the Preston races. The members for Beverley, I
believe, find a bull for the constituents to bait. But
these were not the conditions on which I undertook
to represent Edinburgh; in return for your generous
confidence, I offer faithful parliamentary service, and
nothing else. The call that is now made is one so
objectionable, that I must plainly say I would rather
take the Chiltern Hundreds than comply with it. I
should feel this if I were a rich man, but I am not
rich ; I am on the point of laying down my carriage,
leaving my house, breaking up my establishment,
and settling in chambers. I have the means of living
very comfortably, according to my notions, and 1
shali still be able to spare something for the common
objects of our party, and something for the distressed.
But I have nothing to waste on gaieties which can
at best only be considered as harmless.”

In 1846, when he resumed office as Paymaster-
General of the Forces, he was opposed at the election
by Sir C. E. Smith; the poll closed, however, with

‘



THE PLEASURES OF LITERATURE. 23

1735 for Macaulay, and 832 for his opponent. In
the course of his hustings speech made on that
occasion, he uttered some words which were well to
be remembered by the aspirants for public honours.
«“ The contest which we are told is at hand,” he said,
“can have no issue for which I am not perfectly
prepared. Seven years ago, at your spontaneous
invitation—an invitation neither directly nor indi=
rectly sought by me, I re-entered public life, which,
till then, I thought I had left for ever. While I
retained your confidence, I was determined that I
would not quit my post. If you now reject my
services, it is not my intention to tender them to any
other body of electors. I shall consider myself as
having received a legitimate and honourable dis-
missal, such as will authorise me to return to pursuits
from which I have derived far more happiness than
ever I enjoyed in the affairs of the British senate.
To hold office, or to be in parliament, ought not to
be necessary to any man’s happiness; and I bless
God that it is not necessary to mine. I do not think
any man an object of pity, who can, with a character
and conscience unsullied, exchange politics for the
_ pleasures of literature and domestic life—which has a
pleasure and distinction which the government can
neither give nor take away.”

In 1847, Macaulay, experiencing the fate of Burke
at Bristol, and Bright at Manchester, was by the
constituency of Edinburgh most discreditably re-



24 LORD MACAULAY.

jected. His rejection was mainly owing to an
unfortunate sentence in one of his parliamentary
speeches, relative to the Maynooth grant. Prior to
the election, he addressed the electors in the Music
Hall, on which occasion he defended himself from the
aspersions which had been cast upon him, in a very
remarkable manner. - “ Exclusion from public life,”
he said, “ may have terrors for the man who is con-
scious he has brought it upon himself by unworthy
conduct towards his country. It may have terrors
to the man who has no tastes, and no occupations to
supply the place of public business; but as for me,
my conscience reproaches me with no wrong. On my
integrity, malice itself has never thrown astain. I have
no fears that my hours will pass heavily in retire-
ment ; and I do not altogether despair of being able to
show that even in retirement, something may be done
for the greatest and most lasting interests of society.”
Subsequently, several constituencies endeavoured
to induce him to permit them to put him in nomina-
tion ; but to all such requests he returned a firm denial.
Two years after his rejection, Glasgow did itself
honour by electing him Lord Rector of its University;
and then, in 1849, he was appointed to the profes-
sorship of Ancient History in the Royal Academy..
On the retirement of Sir William Gibson Craig,
the inhabitants of Edinburgh had repented of their
folly, and were desirous of rectifying the error they
had committed: there was considerable difficulty



RETIRES FROM PARLIAMENT. 25

in the way of doing this. Macaulay would neither
offer himself as a candidate, nor would he even say
that he would accept if he was elected; so keenly
did he feel the injustice of his dismissal. He was,
however, returned in a manner highly flattering to
himself. Without canvassing, without even coming
forward as a candidate, he was triumphantly returned
at the head of the poll. On his taking his seat in
parliament, considerable interest was manifested
in his appearance. When the word was passed in
the ante-rooms of the House, that Macaulay was
“up,” the rush to hear him was immense; after this
he seldom spoke. He had now arrived at a period
of his life when he could only address a public
assembly at the cost of considerable pain to himself.
This induced him, in 1855, to write to his friends in
Edinburgh, when he said : “ I hope that you will not
think me importunate, if I again and very earnestly
beg you to consider the state of the representation
of the city. I feel every day more and more that
my public life is over. I am not, thank God, in
intellect or in affections, but in physical power, an
older man by some years than I was last Easter.”
For these reasons, in 1856, he retired from the arena
in which he had so often won the plaudits of friends
and the admiration of political foes.

The four years of his absence from the House of
Commons—1847 to 1852—had been devoted to the
composition of his “ History of England ;” and from



26 LORD MACAULAY.

1856, to the close of his career, he was employed
upon that enduring monument of his genius and in-
dustry. One of his critics, gratifying a laudable
curiosity in his countrymen, withdraws the screen for
an instant, giving us a peep of the famous historian
at work. “One great secret,” he writes, “of the
vivid character of Macaulay’s descriptions, was the
zeal with which he visited and made inquiries in the
localities where many of the events took place which
he recorded in his History. At Weston Zoyland, a
village in Somersetshire, about four miles from
Bridgewater—celebrated as being the scene of the
Duke of Monmouth’s defeat at the battle of Sedge-
moor—the historian is well known. He resided at
a humble inn in the village for some weeks, occu-
pying his time with minute investigations in the
neighbourhood, and writing that portion of his narra-
tive while the facts and impressions were fresh on his
mind, in a little room which ‘is still shown there to
the rare visitors to the locality.” The suecess of the
History was unparalleled. The first and second
volumes ran through five editions in six months,
numbering in all 18,000 copies; 25,000 copies of
volumes three and four were printed, and a second
edition immediately commenced. For the copyright
of the History, the eminent publishers, Messrs.
Longman, have paid the illustrious author the reve-
nues of a prince. The “ Atheneum” says that he
received from them, in one single cheque, £20,000.



RAISED TO THE PEERAGE 27

In 1857, as a graceful recognition of his eminent
services, Macaulay was raised to the Peerage—an
honour neither solicited nor sought by him. Owing,
however, to the growth of infirmities, and the advance
of years, he was seldom seen, and more seldom
heard, in the House of Lords; and then, before the
expiration of three years from his elevation, the spirit
had departed from the clay, where it had so long won
the admiration of mankind. On the night of the
21st December, 1859, Thomas Babington Macaulay
had ceased to exist. His remains were deposited
within the sacred precincts of Westminster Abbey,
surrounded by the dust of the men whose genius
ennobled and whose labours enlightened their country,

The reader of the Essays, the Poems, the Speeches,
and the Histories of Lord Macaulay, will be prepared
to admit that he had genius, and genius of a very high
order; but he should not forget also that the great
author had that which every man of genius has not,
immense application and persevering industry. It is
true, also, that he had a memory of the most reten-
tive kind; but then, he had to learn in order to
remember. An intimate acquaintance with historical
facts and incidents, a knowledge of the laws and
relations of the boundless present, do not come to the
most gifted by inspiration. They, in common with the
sluggishand unimaginative, must learn; although they
may have a greater aptness in learning anda greater
retentiveness in retaining what they have learned.



28 LORD MACAULAY.

Macaulay, with all his genius, despised no means and °

avoided no toil which promised to add to his stores
of knowledge. During one of his college vacations,
in order to familiarise himself with the ballads of the
northern counties of England, he cheerfully under-
took the labour of traversing Cumberland and North-
umberland on foot, entering the cottages of the poor
people, and sitting down in their chimney-corners to
chat about the stories and legends, the anxious
object of his journey, which he carefully recorded day
by day. Upon another occasion, after his elevation
to the peerage, desirous to acquaint himself with the,
ballad literature of the day, he bought a handful of
songs from a street patterer in Seven Dials. It is
amusingly said that, “ Proceeding on his way home,
he was astonished, on suddenly stopping, to find
himself surrounded by half a score of urchins, their
faces beaming with expectation. “Now, then,” said
the historian, “what is it?” ‘Oh! that is a good
un,” replied the boys, “after we’ve a-come all this
way.” ‘But what are you waiting for?” said he,
astonished at the lads’ familiarity. ‘‘ Waiting for ?
why, to hear you sing, to be sure.”

As another means of adding to his mental acquire-
ments, Macaulay was fond of rummaging book- stalls
and scarcely a dusty old book-shop in any bye court
or out of the way corner in London escaped his
attention. He might frequently have been seen

mounting a ladder, and scouring the top shelves for’



THE .SOURCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 29

quarto pamphlets, or curious literary relics of a by-
gone age, coming down, after an hour’s examination,
covered with dust and cobwebs. After he had
‘purchased a book or volume of old pamphlets, he was
impatient to have it home, and would frequently take
a shabby old folio, a couple of centuries old, under
his arm, and act as his own porter.

These instances, slight as they may be deemed,
serve to indicate the diligence and zeal of the great
historian in the pursuit of knowledge. He had early
learned a motto, which may well serve to close this
imperfect sketch, and which may be commended to
the thoughtful youth and young man desirous to
increase in mental knowledge—“ Read, and you will
learn.”



MICHAEL FARADAY, LL.D.,

SON OF A POOR BLACKSMITH, A BOOKBINDER’S
APPRENTICE, AND NOW THE WORLD-FAMED
CHEMIST.

Eneianp’s greatest heroes, benefactors, and dis-
coverers, have risen from the ranks—men who had
to make their own way in the world, to work that
they might have daily bread, and who, in order that
they might obtain knowledge, and the power which
knowledge gives, have had to employ their evening
hours, and hours torn from bed at early morn, in
determined resolute study of some prescribed task.
And, strange as it may seem, these men, by putting
earnestness into their studies, have not only equalled, —
but passed the men who have had every assistance of
a systematic education, the facilities of school and
university, the advice and teaching of competent
masters, and an unlimited range of books. We may
therefore conclude that, in the instance of two boys
who will ultimately devote themselves to any branch
of the sciences, one having every aid in his studies, «
the other being early put to manual labour to earn





















a Lc i wh il
ST Aeeeritit

WANN
| Ke









































IL " i





Faraday’s master describing the electrical machine made by him
in his leisure hours.

le
Fe ae
aes























AA

?

Kit









WHY POOR YOUTHS SUCCEED. 3l

the means of living, the chances are that the “son
of toil” will make a more creditable appearance than
his more fortunate compeer. The problem is not very
difficult of solution. In one case, the youth has been
satisfied with the ordinary routine of his studies;
the other, knowing the value of his leisure, has
grasped every fact presented to him through the
medium of his few books, with a tenacity that has
made them allhis own. His daily toil has also added
to his capability of study. It has made him earnest.
He has learned betimes that life is a serious thing,
that time is life’s most valued gift, and therefore, to
waste time is to waste life. His daily labour being
done, every moment is treasured and vigorously
devoted to the prosecution of the task upon which he
has set his heart. It is no wonder that he succeeds:
it would be a wonder if he did not.

England’s most eminent chemist—the great Fara-
day—is no exception to this rule. The son of a poor
blacksmith, of whom it might be said, as the American
poet wrote of another of the trade :

* Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begun,
Each evening sees its close ;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night’s repose.”

Michael Faraday was born in London in 1791.
Little did his poor father think that he would attain



22 MICHAEL FARADAY.

to a world-wide celebrity; that Prince Albert, even,
the husband of our Queen, would think himself
honoured by presiding at a lecture delivered by his
son. Happily, all this was concealed from the black-
smith, otherwise Michael might have been spoiled by
foolish attentions; he might, in anticipation of his
future greatness, have become vain and conceited,
which would certainly have destroyed both him and
his prospects.

When his infantile years had passed, and he had
arrived at that period when he could be sent from
home, he was no longer permitted to remain there.
He must commence thus early the race for bread.
He must assist. his father, who had so far maintained
him by the sweat of his brow while toiling at the forge.
It was little that he could do or earn—one or two
shillings at the most; but even that sum, thrown into
the Saturday night’s store, would be useful. It was
not unreasonable, and Michael did not. object. He
did object, however, to the blacksmith business. It
was too rough and coarse to assort acceptably with
his fine and gentle spirit. In deference, therefore,
to his wishes, he was apprenticed to a bookseller and
bookbinder of the name of Riebau, in Blandford
Street. He worked at these callings steadily and
industriously until he was twenty-two years of age.

“What!” says some fine youth, home for the
holidays, who, as # special treat, has been taken to
hear a lecture and witness the chemical experiments



MAKING OPPOKTUNITIES. 33

of the great Faraday, while he was surrounded by the
élite of the aristocracy, ‘‘ do*you mean to tell me that
he did not go to school in his youth, and finish his
education in one of the universities?” Moderate
your amazement, my young friend. How could he do
this, and yet be apprenticed to one Riebau, the book-
seller, whom he served faithfully and well until his
twenty-second year? This is the moral that you had
need to remember—if he, with his limited opportuni-
ties, could achieve so much, what ought you to achieve
with your greater facilities ?

It would be wrong, however, to say that Faraday
had no education in his youth. The fact is quite the
contrary. It is true he had not the opportunity of
attending school, or becoming a member of any of
the great seats of learning. He had an education
nevertheless, but it was an education obtainable by
every boy—got during the evening and morning hours;
not spent laboriously decorating the outside of books,
but studiously spent in poring over the informa-
tion contained in their pages. That was all the
education the great chemist received; and no
small education either, when we look at the results.
Education is not so much a question of means as is
is of purpose. Resolution and determination have
achieved more, with a few books purchased for so
many pence, than a purposeless life, with an immense
library and every educational means to boot.

Faraday, in the course of his reading, had met with

D



34 MICHAEL FARADAY.

interesting descriptions of chemical and electrical
experiments. . He was anxious to: make the experi-
ments for himself. The costly character of the
needed apparatus. quite precluded his entertaining
the .idea of purchasing it. He could, however,
endeavour to make it. And if we are to believe the
evidence: on the subject, he not only made the
apparatus he required for his experiments, but made
it ina very creditable. manner. Indeed, it. was
his construction of an electrical machine that imme-
‘ diately led to his adoption of chemistry as a pro-
fession. His master, whilst he was yet an apprentice,
called, the attention of one of his customers—a Mr.
Dance, of Manchester Street—to an electrical machine
and other things which young Faraday had made.
Mr. Dance was so pleased with the evidence of genius
and < perseverance. manifested in the home-made
apparatus, that he determined to give him a treat by
taking him to hear the last four lectures which Sir
Humphry Davy delivered in the Royal Institution.
Faraday thus related .the circumstance in a letter to
Dr. Parris. . “My dear sir, you asked me to give
you an account of my first introduction to Sir H.
Davy, which I am very happy todo, as I think the
circumstances will bear testimony to his goodness of
heart. When I was a bookseller’s apprentice I was
very fond of experiment, and very averse to trade.
It happened that a gentleman, a member of the Royal
Institution, took me to hear some of Sir H. Davy’s



SIR H. DAVY’S LETTER. 35

last lectures in Albemarle Street. I took notes,
and afterwards wrote them out more fairly in a
quarto volume. My desire to escape from trade,
which I thought vicious and selfish, and to enter into
the service of science, which I imagined made its
pursuers amiable and liberal, induced me at last to
take the bold and simple step of writing to Sir H.
Davy, expressing my wishes, and a hope that, if an
opportunity came in his way, he would favour my
views; at the same time I sent the notes I had taken
at his lectures. The answer, which makes all the
point of my communication, I send you in the
original, requesting you to take care of it, and to let
me have it back, for you may imagine how much
I value it. You will observe that this took place at
the end of the year 1812, and early in 1813 he
requested to see me, and told me of the situation of
assistant in the laboratory of the Royal Institution,
then just vacant. At the same time that he thus
gratified my desires as to scientific employment,
he still advised me not to give up the prospects I
had before me, telling me that Science was a harsh
mistress, and, in a pecuniary point of view, but
poorly rewarding those who devoted themselves to
her service. He smiled at my notion of the superior
moral feelings of philosophic men, and said he would
leave me to the experience of a few years to set me
right on the matter. Finally, through his good
efforts, I went to the Royal Institution, early in
D2



86 MICHAEL FARADAY.

March of 1813, as assistant in the laboratory; and
in October of the same year went with him abroad,
as his assistant ‘in experiments and in writing. I
returned with him in April 1815, resumed my sta-
tion in the Royal Institution, and have, as you know,
ever since remained there.—I am, dear sir, very
truly yours, M. Farapay.”

The letter written by Sir H. Davy was as
follows :-—

“ December 24th, 1812.

“Sir,—I am far from displeased with the proof
you have given me of your confidence, and which
displays great zeal, power of memory, and attention.
I am obliged to go out of town, and shall not be
settled in town till the end of January. I will then
see you at any time you wish. It would gratify me
to be of any service to you. I wish it may bein my
power.—I am, sir, your obedient humble servant,
HH. Davy.”

From this point Faraday’s progress was steadily
onward: he knew that his success depended upon
himself; to secure which he neither spared time nor
labour. His attention, ever on the stretch, permitted ©
no fact to pass unobserved or unrecorded. The
result, so easily predicated of such a course, is the
present eminent position of Faraday; his pains-
taking researches have resulted in discoveries that
have raised him to the highest rank among European
philosophers, whilst his singular power in the lecture-



HIS CHARMING SIMPLICITY, 37

room, which enables him to demonstrate with the
utmost clearness to a mixed audience his most
recondite investigations, renders him the most
delightful of lecturers. The subjects he has selected
for study, are those usually considered the most
perplexing departments of physical science—the
relations of heat, light, magnetism, and elec-
tricity; which, by the clearness of his perceptions,
and the continuance of his patient labour, he has
materially simplified. He lives in the hope that he
will yet be able to demonstrate that these agencies
are only so many manifestations of the same force.
His preseut great achievements are recorded and
acknowledged by every learned society in Europe ;
and Oxford, in 1832, conferred on him the civil
distinction of Doctor of Laws. While he is thus
honoured in public life, he is esteemed in private for
his charming simplicity of character, and the truth-
fulness and kindliness of his disposition.

The editor of the “ Edinburgh Philosophical Jour-
nal,” in estimating the writings of Faraday, says :—
“He combines to a rare extent great boldness in
speculating, with great caution in concluding. His
patience and perseverance as a worker are as remark-
able as his originality as a thinker, and his skill as
an expositor; and, with an ingenuity in devising expe-
riments, and a manipulative skill and dexterity in
performing them—never, we believe, surpassed—he
combines an accuracy and fidelity in working, such



38 MICHAEL FARADAY.

as brilliant experimenters and dexterous manipulators
often fail to exhibit. Half-truths with him are
hateful things, and he grudges neither thought, nor
time, nor labour—not to speak of expense—provided
they will bring him: certainty of knowledge, even
though it be but the certainty of nescience. His aim
is a decided. Yes or No; or the attainment of
the certainty that the problem is one that man
cannot answer cither way. The cheerful acknow-
ledgment of the labours of others, the patient study
of all reasonable objections to his own most cherished
views, the frank confession of change of opinion,
where that has occurred, the lowly estimate of him-
self, and the lofty, nay, solemn estimate of the dignity
of his vocation as an unfolder of the works of God,
make us love as much as we honour our great electri-
cian, and should prompt our younger men to imitate
his spirit, which they may all do, as well as rival
him in his discoveries, in which they may be less
successful.”

That is an important fact, well to be remembered.
It is not given to any boy or young man, by the
exercise of any amount of perseverance or industry,
co achieve the fame of Faraday; to write a poem like
Milton; to paint a picture or sculpture a block like
Michael Angelo. Shakspeare had a genius for the com-
position of plays and poems—which he has composed,
and therefore need not composing again; Chantry,
the milk-lad of Sheffield, had marvellous aptness in



THE MORAL DEDUCED. i

the moulding and carving of exquisite figures. Any
one imitating his productions would simply reproduce
what had already been done: tasks of this character,
‘therefore, would be profitless, even if boy or man,
with the needed genius, set himself to the work. The
moral of the lives of great men is not the stimulus to
the same course of life, with the same rewards in
store. The true moral is, that they, with perseverance
and painstaking labour, have arisen from the hum-
blest positions to a position of the highest eminence ;
and that, therefore, any boy or young man, who also
wishes to stand well in the world, to fill his station,
whatever that may be, with credit and honour, must,
by labour and perseverance, work out his laudable
intention, by the proper display of his powers.



CHARLES DICKENS:

ATTORNEY’S CLERK AND THE WORLD-FAMED
AUTHOR.



“ He had from the first, as Sir Hugh Evans says of Ann
Page, ‘ good gifts,’ which he improved by study and attention
in a most exemplary manner.”

THe magician who has summoned from the “ vasty
deep,” “ Sammy Weller,” “ Sarey Gamp,” “ Mark
Tapley,” and “Tom Finch,” is Charles Dickens—a
name not very promising, in which there is nothing
aristocratic or high-sounding ; rather plebeian, if any-
thing. And yet in all this goodly England, nay,
over the surface of the entire globe, what name
is better known or more loved? Blessings on
him! his books have ever been the precursors of
good! Time-serving, pandering to low and vicious
appetites, catering for the morbid and the de-
praved, has never been his business. He has
written to amuse, but his amusement has always
tended to improvement. He has ofttimes moved us
to tears; but we have felt better, stronger for them. He
has ever taught us that fraud and wrong, that craft
and deceit, that whining hypocrisy and servile syco-



i

a Ay ft

j ft "}
fin, ;

Ni
I



Dickens placing his first literary contribution in the editor’s box.

i tartitirchet WC? ms



THE FATHER OF CHARLES. 4]

phancy, is a false miserable policy, sure to meet with
fitting punishment and its.wretched reward. And then
do we not owe him largess for delightful hours spent
with “ Little Dombey ;” with confiding ‘“ David Cop-
perfield ;” for pleasant evenings in “ Bleak House ;”
for profit and pleasure in “ Hard Times?” In good
sooth, it would be difficult to say what we owe him,
and what we do not owe him. This is certain, that
no name comes upon the ear more pleasantly, and is
the augury of more good, than the name of Charles
Dickens.

On the 15th of February, 1812, the future great
novelist was born at Landport, Portsmouth. Mr.
John Dickens, the father of our hero, was at the
time employed as clerk in the Navy Pay Office
When the war was at an end he retired upon a pension.
Subsequently, being a man of considerable ability, he
obtained a situation on the “ Morning Chronicle,”
being employed in the gallery of the House of
Commons to report the debates for that newspaper.

Unfortunately we have no material record of the
infantile years of Charles. We do not know whether
it was his custom, as a child, to quit the society
of other children, to wander in solitary by-paths ;
or whether, which is more likely, he sought the
friendly laugh and joyous hilarity of his little com-
peers. We do not know whether he was quick and
apt in learning his lessons ; or, in imitation of many
great men who have gone before, was dull and



42 CHARLES DICKENS.

stupid in his youth. We do know, however, that,
so soon as his preliminary education was concluded,
obtaining such education as is common in an ordinary
day-school, he was articled to an attorney, where
he made himself acquainted with legal technicalities,
of which he made such admirable use in his “ Bleak
House.” But drawing writs and. serving processes
did- not accord with the desires of young Dickens.
He determined, in emulation of his sire, to be a
reporter; and to this end set himself the task of
learning the “art and mystery” of shorthand.. He
afterwards thus recorded his difficulties :—

“T did not allow my resolution with respect to
the parliamentary debates to cool. It was one of
the irons I began to heat immediately, and one of
the irons I kept hot and hammered at with a perse-
verance I may honestly admire. I bought an ap-
proved scheme of the noble art and mystery of steno-
graphy (which cost me ten and sixpence), and plunged
into a sea of perplexity, that brought me in a few
weeks to the confines of distraction. The changes
that were rung upon dots, which in one posi-
tion meant such a thing, and in another position
something else entirely different; the wonderful
vagaries that were played by circles, the unaccount-
able consequences that resulted from marks like flies’
legs, the tremendous effects from a curve in the
wrong place, not only troubled my waking hours,
but reappeared before me in my sleep. When I had



DIFFICULTIES OF SHORTHAND. 43

groped my way blindly through these difficulties, and
had mastered the alphabet, which was an Egyptian
temple in itself, there then appeared a procession of
new horrors, called ‘ arbitrary characters’—the most
despotic characters I have ever known—who insisted,
for instance, that the thing like the beginning ofa
cobweb meant ‘ expectation,’ that a pen-and-ink sky-
rocket stood for ‘ disadvantageous.’ When I had fixed
thesewretches in my mind, I found that they had driven
everything else out of it; then, beginning again, I-
forgot them; while I was picking them up, I dropped
other fragments of the system: in short, it was almost
heart-breaking.”

But young Dickens was not cast in the mould of
despondency ; he persevered, and, as a certain conse-
quence, succeeded. He was first employed as a
reporter upon a newspaper called the “True Sun ;”
his next engagement was upon the “ Morning Chro-
nicle,” during which time he manifested the possession
of his wondrous powers. He was from the first
celebrated for his reports, which were marvels of
“clearness, vigour, and extreme exactness.” But
this was not the work for which he was intended.

Successful as he was as a reporter, it was not
in the reproduction of other men’s thoughts that his
laurels were to be won. He had, or he fancied he
had, thoughts of his own, which would be welcomed
by “a discerning public.” Some sketches and tales
he had written, he “dropped stealthily one evening,



44 CHARLES DICKENS,

at twilight, with fear and trembling, into a dark letter-
box, in a dark office, up a dark court in Fleet Street,’
which, in the next number of the magazine, “appeared
in all the glory of print; on which occasion,” he
afterwards wrote, “‘ By the by, how well I recollect it !
—I walked down to Westminster Hall, and turned
into it for half an hour, because my eyes were so
dimmed with joy and pride that they could not bear
the street, and were not fit to be seen there.”

After this entrance upon literature, a field upon
which he was afterwards to be so distinguished, he
projected a series of articles, entitled “Sketches by
Boz,” which were originally published in the “ Morn-
ing Chronicle,” under the title of “ Sketches of Eng-
lish Life and Character.”’ Afterwards, owing to their
popularity, they were reprinted, in two volumes, in
1886 and 1837, illustrated by the famous George
Cruikshank.

Subsequently, one of the celebrated firm of Chap-
man and Hall waited upon Dickens, then a young
man of some five or six and twenty, and made a pub-

lishing proposal to him. “The idea propounded to. .

me,” writes Dickens, “‘ was that the monthly some-
thing should be a vehicle for certain plates, to be
executed by Mr. Seymour; and there was a notion,
either on the part of that admirable humorous artist,
or of my visitor (I forget which), that a ‘ Nimrod Club,’
the members of which were to go out shooting, fishing,
and so forth, and getting themselves into difficulties



ORIGIN OF “¢ PICKWICK.” 45

through their want of dexterity, would be the best
means of introducing these. I objected, on considera-
tion that, although born and partly bred in the
country, I was no great sportsman, except in regard
to all kinds of locomotion ; that it would be infinitely
better for the plates to arise naturally out of the text;
that the idea was not novel, and had already been much
used ; that I should like to take my own way, with a
freer range of English scenes and people; and was
afraid I should ultimately do so in any case, whatever
course I might prescribe to myself when starting.
My views being deferred to, I thought of ‘ Mr. Pick-
wick,’ and wrote the first number, from the proof of
which Mr. Seymour made his drawing of the club,
and that happy portrait of the founder, by which he
is always recognised, and which may be said to have
made him a reality. I connected ‘Mr. Pickwick’ with
a club, because of the original suggestion; and I put
in ‘Mr. Winkle,’ expressly for the use of Mr. Seymour.
We started with a number of twenty-four pages in-
stead of thirty-two, and four illustrations in lieu of a
couple. Mr. Seymour’s lamented death, before the
second number was published, brought about a quick .
decision upon a point already in agitation : the number
became one of thirty-two pages, with two illustrations,
and remained so to the end. My friends told me it
was a low cheap form of publication (the book would
have cost, at the then established price of novels,
about four guineas and a half), by which I should



46 CHARLES DICKENS.

ruin all my rising hopes; and how right my friends
turned out to be, everybody knows.

“¢ Boz,’ my signature in the ‘ Morning Chronicle,’
appended to the monthly cover, and retained long
afterwards, was the nickname of a pet child, a
younger brother, whom I had dubbed <‘ Moses,’ in
honour of the ‘ Vicar of Wakefield, which being
facetiously pronounced through the nose, becomes
* Bozes,’ and, being shortened, became ‘ Boz.’ . ‘ Boz’
was a very familiar word with me long before I was
an author, and so I came to adopt it.”

The success of “ Pickwick” was so great, that “Sam
Weller ” and his immortal master figured in various
places, as well as in the pages of the magazine.’ En-
gravers, modellers, tobacconists, made ample use of
these worthies. We have to this day “ Pickwick
Cigars,” and “Sam Weller Blacking.””

During the progress of ‘ Pickwick,” Dickens mar-
ried Miss Catherine Hogarth, daughter of Mr.
Hogarth, the celebrated musical writer and critic. In
about ten months after the conclusion of the success-
ful novel, Mr. Dickens produced his ‘“ Nicholas

_ Nickleby.” In it the school system, reported to be
then practised in some parts of Yorkshire, received a
well-merited exposure. Mr. Dickens, writing sub-
sequently, says :

“IT cannot call to mind now how I came to hear
about Yorkshire schools, when I was not a very
robust child, sitting in by-places, near Rochester



i

THE ORIGINAL OF “JOHN BRODIE. 4?

Castle, with a head full of Partridge, Strap, Tom

_ Pipes, and Sancho Panza; but I know that my first

impressions of them were picked up at that time, and
that they were somehow or other connected with a
suppurated abscess that some boy came home with,
in consequence of his Yorkshire ‘ guide, philosopher,
and friend’ having ripped it open with an inky pen-
knife. The impression made upon me, however, never
left me. I was always curious about them till long
afterwards ; and at sundry times I got into the way
of hearing about them—at last, having an audience,
resolved to write about them.”

Before doing so, he visited Yorkshire, carrying
with him a letter of introduction to a person who
first gave Dickens the idea of his “‘ John Brodie.” The
letter represented the bearer as desirous of making
inquiries relative to the schools in the neighbourhood,
on behalf of a widow who was anxious to send her
little boy to one of them.

“JT am afraid he is dead now,” writes Dickens.
“T recollect he was a jovial, ruddy, broad-faced man ;
that we got acquainted directly; and that we talked
on all sorts of subjects, except the school, which he
showed a great anxiety to avoid. ‘Was there any
large school near?’ I asked, in reference to the letter.
‘Oh, yes,’ he said, ‘ there was, pratty by me.” ‘ Was
it a good one?? ‘Ey,’ he said, ‘it was as good as
another; that was a matter of opinion ;’ and fell to
looking at the fire flaring around the room, and



48 CHARLES DICKENS.

whistling a little.’ The “John Brodie” was in fact
impracticable ; and when the question of the school
came up, his face “fell,” and he became “ uncom-
fortable.”” At last, when about to go, he leant over
the table, and said to Mr, Dickens, in a low voice,
“ Weel, Misther, we’ve been very pleasant togather,
and [’ll speak my mind tiv’ee. Dinnot let the
weedur send her little boy to yun o’ our school
measters, while there’s a harse to hoold in a’ Lunnun,
and a gootther to lie asleep in! Ar wouldn’t mak’ ill
words amang my neeberrs, and ar speak tiv’ee quiet
loike. But I’m dom’d if ar can gang to bed and not
tellee, for weedur’s sak’, to keep the lattle boy from
a’ ‘sike scoondrels while there’s a harse to hoold in
a? Lunnun, or a gootther to lie asleep in.” Repeat-
ing these words with great heartiness, and with a
solemnity on his jolly face that made it look twice as
large as before, he shook hands and went away.

When “ Nicholas Nickleby” was finished—a labour
of love as much as a labour of profit—Dickens under-
took the editorship of “Bentley’s Miscellany,” in
which he published his story of “ Oliver Twist.” When
the tale was concluded, the conducting of the serial fell
into the hands of Mr. Harrison Ainsworth. Dickens
next devoted himself to ‘ Humphrey’s Clock,” in
which some of the most delightful of his creations
appeared.

In 1842 he determined upon a trip to America, in
the company of his wife. he jottings of the tour



THE ‘AMERICAN NOTES.”’ 49

were afterwards published as “ The American Notes,’’
which gave immense dissatisfaction to the Americans.
But in a new edition of the work, recently pub-
lished, the author says:—“It is nearly eight years
since this book was first published: I present it, in
this edition, unaltered ; and such of my opinions as
it expresses are quite unaltered too. Prejudiced I
have never been, otherwise than in favour with the
United States. No visitor can ever set foot on those
shores with a stronger faith in the republic than I did
when I landed in America. I purposely abstain from
extending the observations to any length. I have
nothing to defend or explain away. The truth is the
truth, and neither childish absurdities nor unscru-
pulous contradiction can make it otherwise. The
earth would still move round the sun, though the
whole Catholic Church said No. To represent me as
viewing America with ill-nature, animosity, or par-
tizanship, is merely to do a very foolish thing, which
is always a very easy one, and which I have disre-
garded for eight years, and could for eighty more.”
Some competent judges on this side of the Atlantic,
however, viewed the “ American Notes” very favour-
ably. Lord Jeffery, amongst others, wrote: “ My
dear Dickens, a thousand thanks for your charming
book, and for all the pleasure, profit, and relief it
has afforded me. You have been very tender to our
sensitive friends beyond sea, and really said nothing
which will give any serious offence to any moderately
B



50 * CHARLES. DICKENS.

rational patriot amongst them.. The slavers of course
will give you no quarter, and of course you did not
expect they would. Your account ot the silent or
solitary imprisonment system is as pathetic and as
powerful a piece of writing as I have ever seen; and
your sweet airy little snatch of the little woman
taking the new bale home to her young husband,
and your manly and feeling appeal in behalf of the
poor Irish, or rather the affectionate poor of all races
and tongues, who are patient, and tender to their
children, under ‘circumstances which would make half
the exemplary parents among the rich monsters of
selfishness and discontent, remind us that we have still
among us the creator of Nelly and Smike, and
the Schoolmaster and his dying pupil, and must
continue to win for you still more of homage of the
heart, that love and esteem of the just and the
good, which, though it should never be disjoined from
them, should, I think you must already feel, be better
than fortune or fame.” :

In 1848, the information obtained during the
American tour was turned to good account in the
new story of ‘Martin Chuzzlewit.” Some of
Dickens’s best and most original characters play im-
portant parts in this work. Pecksniff, the prince
of humbugs; dear trusting confiding Tom Pinch; the
scoundrel Jonas; the elegant Mr. Montague Tigg ;
the ‘nurse of all nurses—Sarah Gamp; with the
invisible Mrs. Harris; and Mark Tapley, always on



CHRISTMAS BOOKS. 51.

the look-out for unfavourable circumstances to come
out strong—figure in “ Martin Chuzzlewit.” On the
same year of its publication appeared the first of
the Christmas bocks—‘‘ The Christmas Carol,” and,
without exception, the best. There are thousands
of readers, when Christmas comes round, who read
that book again and again. Lord Jeffery said that
Dickens had “ not only fostered more kindly feel-
ings, but prompted more positive acts of benevolence,
by this little publication, than can be traced
to all the pulpits and confessionals since Christmas
1842.” At the ensuing Christmas appeared ‘‘ The
Chimes,” another very successful and fascinating
book. Next in order came “The Cricket on the
Hearth,” “The Battle of Life,” and the last of these
annuals—“ The Haunted Man.” More healthful or
delightful stories were never written.

In the year 1844 Mr. Dickens resided for about
a year in Italy; and in 1845 he originated “The
Daily News,” the first number of which appeared on
the 21st of January, 1846. It was first published
at twopence halfpenny, then raised to threepence,
and subsequently to the price of “The Times.” Not-
withstanding the great efforts made to establish the
paper, the best friends of. Mr. Dickens could not
blind themselves to the fact that his contributions
were not acceptable, and that therefore “The Daily
News” was a failure. Doubtless acting under good
advice, Dickens retired from the editorship with, it

E2



52 CHARLES DICKENS.

is understood, the loss of a considerable sum of
money, and certainly with no added reputation.
“The Pictures from Italy ” did little to win back the
somewhat alienated affection of his thousands of
readers. At the present time, so little impression did
it make when first published, it is not generally
known that he has written such a book.

But Charles Dickens has endeared himself to us by
many acts of kindly sympathy, as well as pleasant
recitals of generous deeds in his books. One of them,
not the least graceful, was his patronage of John
Overs, a working man, which resulted in the publica-
tion in July, 1844, of “The Evenings of a Working
Man, being the Occupation of his Scanty Leisure ; by
John Overs: with a Preface relative to the Author,
by Charles Dickens.” Prior to its publication, the
writer of the preface endeavoured to dissuade him
from entering upon the perilous path of authorship.
In reply, Dickens says, “‘ He wrote me as manly and
as straightforward, but withal as modest, a letter as
ever I read in my life. He explained to me how
limited his ambition was, soaring no higher than the
establishment of his wife in some light business, and
the better education of his children. He set before
me the difference of his evening and holiday studies,
such as they were, and his having no better resource
than an alchouse or a skittle-ground.” Of course
an appeal of that nature was all potent with Dickens.
John Overs contributed some articles to the maga-



SAMARITAN WORK. 53

zines, and then fell ill. The “ Evenings of a Work-
ing Man” was first published, with a preface by
Dickens, in which he wrote, in reference to the author :

“He is very ill—the faintest shadow of the man
who came into my little study, for the first time, half
a dozen years ago, after the correspondence I have
mentioned. He has been very ill for a long period;
his disease is a severe and wasting affection of the
lungs, which has incapacitated him these many
months for every kind of occupation. ‘If I could
only do a hard day’s work,’ he said to me the other
day, ‘how happy I should be.’

‘* Having these papers by him, amongst others, he
bethought himself that, if he could get a bookseller to
purchase them for publication in a volume, they would
enable him to make some temporary provision for his
sick wife and very young family. We talked the
matter over together, and that it might be easier of
accomplishment, I promised him that I would write
an introduction to his book.

“ IT would to Heaven I could do him better service !
I would to Heaven it were an introduction to a long
and vigorous and useful life! But Hope will not
trim her lamp the less brightly for him and his,
because of this impulse to their struggling fortunes ;
and trust me, reader, they deserve her light, and need
it sorely.”

John Overs has now gone to his long home. It is
only a few months since we first made acquaintance



54 CHARLES DICKENS.

with his unpretending little volume. Seeing it by
accident, we were surprised to find the name of
Charles Dickens on the title page, and on perusing
the preface, not more so then with the facts we
have already related. But the case of John Overs
is not solitary.
“ Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear ;

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.” :

Only the other day we were introduced to one
of the Manchester journeymen painters—to his
credit quite at the head of his trade—who, in addition
to wielding his brush with the ‘utmost proficiency,
can write, and does write, during his leisure hours,
articles that might find a fitting home in‘ the most

‘pretentious of our serials. A family necessitates his
rubbing on, rather than risk their comfort on the sea of
literature. And he is right.

But we must close our sketch of Dickens. After
the conclusion of ‘ Martin Chuzzlewit,’? a book
that will live as long as the name of its author,
* Dombey and Son” next appeared; and in 1850
was commenced ‘“ Household Words,”’ in which its
projector wrote, since published in two volumes, “A
Child’s History of England.” “Household Words”
has given way to another serial, “All the Year
Round,” in which Dickens wrote his last novel, “A
Tale of Two Cities,” full of pathos and incident.



TURNS PUBLIC READER. 55

In 1851 the Guild of Literature and Art was
projected. To raise the needed funds, Sir Bulwer
Lytton wrote a comedy, “ Not so Bad as we Seem,”
-which was performed before the Queen, the aristo-
cracy, and afterwards before various audiences in the
_ country, by celebrated literary amateurs. Dickens
surprised everybody by the vivacity and truthfulness
of his impersonations. Horace Greeley, the editor of
“The New York Tribune,” on witnessing one of
these performances, said “ Authorship has spoiled a
good actor.”

“Bleak House” and “ Little Dorrit,” two subse-
quent publications, although commercially all that
could be desired, have not added much to the fame
of their author.

About the commencement of 1858 Dickens entered
upon a new character—the public reader of his own
productions. And why should he not? In the first
place, it is no new thing. Blind old Homer recited
his own verses. And indeed authorship might marvel-
lously improve, if the public were to exact public
recitations from the authors of works presented for
public acceptance. These “Readings” have been
singularly successful in Dickens’s case. In London,
Dublin, Liverpool, and Manchester, everywhere
where they have been delivered, thousands of
delighted listeners have again and again realized the
potency of the creations of our “ own Charles.”

He has also won laurels as a public speaker. In



56 CHARLES DICKENS.

fact, he has a triple character—author, actor, and
orator. As the last, he is far above mediocrity. At
times, when the subject is one that appeals to human
sympathies, he becomes touchingly eloquent—his
fervid simple strain carrying conviction to the minds
and hearts of his hearers. Excellent as his addresses
are, he does not speak from impulse—what is called
the spur of the moment; he carefully prepares his
facts, and to some extent no doubt, his language
also, In this he might be imitated with advantage
by those who affect to be the leading orators of our
country,

On the foundation of the Guild of Literature and
Art the promoters held a festival at Birmingham, on
which occasion the friends of Dickens embraced. the
opportunity to present him with a testimonial. One
of the newspapers said :—

“Very soon after the hour fixed for the minor inci-
dent of the day—the presentation of a testimonial to
Mr. Dickens—the rooms of the Society of Artists
were crowded by as gay and distinguished an assem-
blage as ever met in Birmingham or any other pro-
vincial town. As name after name more or less
famous in the world of literature and art was
announced, the buzz of animated conversation ceased
for a few moments; and then, when such a galaxy as
Dickens, Sir Charles Eastlake, David Roberts, John
Forster, and Professor Cockerill, made their appear-
ance, scrutinizing glances in the direction of the door,



PRESENTED WITH A TESTIMONIAL. 57

and gager inquiries, showed the anxiety which was
felt regarding the personal identity of each celebrity,
It was not until nearly half-past five that the presen-
tation was made. A circle being then formed at the
upper end of the principal room (the Iliad salver and
the diamond ring being placed on a handsome papier
maché table in the centre), Mr. Councillor Brisband,
as chairman of the testimonial committee, briefly
stated the nature of the presentation about to be made,
and called upon Mr. G. L. Banks to read the follow-
ing address :—

“«<<¢To Cartes Dickens, Esa:

¢ Sir,—In requesting your acceptance of the ac-
companying ring and salver, it may be necessary for
your personal gratification, as. well as for the satisfac-
tion of those whose opinions are therein embodied, to
explain the reasons which have led to this open
expression of a feeling as sincere and deeply seated as
it is humbly and imperfectly conveyed. It has been
remarked that a regard for our national writers
enters into and forms part of the sacred emotions of
every educated man; and perhaps to this sentiment,
no less than to the high moral purpose by which your
works are distinguished, your Birmingham readers
may appeal for a sanction of this grateful acknow-
ledgment of your varied and well-applied talents. The
lightest work of fiction, if written with a pure aim,
tends to universal exaltation ; and this admitted, who



58 CHARLES DICKENS.

shall affect to speak slightingly of that genial mind,
and the mingled wit and wisdom exhibited in those
writings, which have secured for their author a fame
not confined to this kingdom, nor yet circumscribed
by the language of its people? It has been your aim
‘to hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature; to show
virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the
very age and body of the time his form and pressure.’
Seeking this end, you have striven to instruct the
social mind of the country, to establish a kindly
sympathy between all classes, to reconcile men to the
discipline of calamity and the harsh treatment of
fortune, and to maintain in its integrity that great
law of God which teaches us to feel that all mankind
are brothers. Hence, while unconsciously building
up for yourself a name among the world’s great, and
making that name “ familiar in our mouths as house-
hold words,” you have drawn towards you ‘the sym-
pathy of all loving hearts, and the esteem and admira-
tion of the English people. With these feelings we
ask you to honour us by accepting these two articles
of Birmingham manufacture ; adding a hope that the
day is not far distant when there shall be a national
value set upon such services as yours, when before
even the bright chivalry of birth there shall be a
public recognition of that higher order which is derived
from the sovereignty of genius, and whose letters-
patent are a grant from heaven.’

“Mr. Dickens then said ‘ Gentlemen, I feel it very



HIS MOTIVES AND ACTIONS. 59

difficult, I assure you, to tender my acknowledgments
to you, and through you to those many friends of
mine whom you represent, for the honour and dis-
tinction you have thus conferred upon me. I can
most honestly assure you that it is not in the power of
one great representative of numbers of people to
awaken such happiness in me as is inspired by this
token of goodwill and remembrance, coming to me
direct and fresh from the numbers themselves. (Hear,
hear.) I am truly sensible, gentlemen, that my
friends who have united in this address are partial in
their kindness, and regard what I have done with too
much favour; but I may say, with reference to one
class, some members of which I presume to be
included there, that I should be in my own eyes very
unworthy of their generous gift and generous feeling
—and this occasion, instead of pleasure, could give
me nothing but pain—if I were unable to assure
you and those in front of this assembly, that what the
working people have found me towards them in my
books, I am throughout my life. (Hear, hear.)
Gentlemen, whenever I have tried to hold up to
admiration their fortitude, patience, gentleness, the
reasonableness of their nature, their accessibility to
persuasion, and their extraordinary goodness one
towards another, I have done so because I have
first genuinely felt that admiration myself, and have
been thoroughly imbued with the sentiment which
I have sought to communicate to others. (Hear,



60 CHARLES DICKENS.

hear.) Gentlemen, I accept this salver and this ring, '
so far above all price to me, and so very valuable in
themselves, as beautiful specimens of the workman-
ship of this gréat town, with much emotion, I assure
you, and with the liveliest gratitude. You remember
something, I dare say, of the old romantic stories of
those charmed rings that would lose their brilliancy
when their wearer was in danger, or would press his
finger reproachfully when he was going to do wrong.
In the very improbable event of my being in the least
danger of deserting the principles which have won
me these tokens, I am quite sure that diamond (point-
ing to the presentation ring) would assume a clouded
aspect in my faithless eyes, and would squeeze a
throb of pain out of my treacherous heart; but I have
not the least misgiving on that point. And in this
confident expectation I intend to remove my own
old diamond ring to my left hand, and in future
wear my Birmingham jewel on my right, where its
pressure will keep me in mind of my good friends
here, and preserve a very vivid remembrance of this
very happy hour. (Hear, hear ) Gentlemen, in con-
clusion, allow me to thank you and the society to
whom these rooms belong, that this presentation has
taken place in an atmosphere so congenial, in an
apartment decorated with so many beautiful works of
art, amongst which I recognise the productions of
professional friends of mine whose labours and
triumphs will never be sunjects of indifference to me.



THE ILIAD SALVER. 61

I thank those gentlemen for the opportunity which
enables me to meet so many of those friends; and
though last, not least, that charming presence which
is here, without which nothing beautiful can be com-
plete, which is endearingly associated with rings of a
plainer description—(Jaughter)—and which, gentle-
men, I must confess, awakens in my mind at the
present moment a very strong feeling of regret that I
am not in a condition to offer those testimonials.
(Renewed laughter.) I beg you, gentlemen, to com-
mend me very earnestly and gratefully to our absent
friends, and to assure them of my affectionate and
heartfelt respect.’

“We may here state that the salver formed one of
the specimens of Birmingham art manufacture sent to
the Great Exhibition by Messrs. Elkington, Mason,
and Co. It is called ‘the Iliad Salver,’ because the
bas-reliefs in the several compartments are taken from
the immortal work of ‘the blind old bard of
Scio’s rocky isle.’ The centre represents Thetis sup-
plicating Jupiter to render the Greeks sensible of
the wrongs done to Achilles; and the subjects of
ten other compartments are the following :—Contest
between Agamemnon and Achilles; the heralds con-
ducting Briseis from the tent of Achilles; Thetis con-
soling Achilles; Achilles driving the Trojans from
the intrenchments by showing himself on the walls;
the Greeks driven beyond their fortifications ; Mene-
laus and Meriones, assisted by the Ajaxes, bearing



62 CHARLES DICKENS,

off the body of Patroclus to the ships; the grief of
Achilles over the body of Patroclus ; Thetis bringing to
Achilles the armour made by Vulcan; Achilles drag.
ging the body of Hector round the walls of Troy; and
Priam begging from Achilles the body of his son
Hector. It was designed by Charles Grant, and is
manufactured for publication by electro-deposition.
It is certainly as admirable a specimen of Birmingham
art as could have been selected.

“Tt bore the following inscription :—

“¢This salver, together with a diamond ring, was
presented to Charles Dickens, Esq., by a number of
his admirers in Birmingham, on the occasion of the
Literary and Artistic Banquet in that town, on the
6th of January, 1858 ; as a sincere testimony of their
appreciation of his varied literary acquirements, and
of the genial philosophy and high moral teaching
which characterise his writings.’

“The ring is, in its way, a no less creditable spe-
cimen of our manufactures. It was ‘ got up’ at the
establishment of Mr. Thomas Ashton , Jeweller, Regent
Place. It is very valuable, and is ‘a novel and appro-
priate design, the feather of a pen being introduced.”

That Dickens has genius, and genius of an extra-
ordinary kind, no one who has accompanied him in
his career, from dropping his first contribution to
literature in the editor’s box, in the dark court in
Fleet Street, to his present distinguished position,



_— ~~...

THE SECRET OÂ¥ HIS SUCCESS. ; 63

can for a moment doubt; but without industry,
without perseverance, his genius would have been

* undeveloped—the thoughts might have been in his

brain, but we should neither have derived amusement
nor instruction from them. Perhaps in all this broad
land of ours, during the last twenty years, no man
has worked harder than Charles Dickens. And it
will be a source of unfeigned satisfaction that during
all that time he has not written a line that, “ dying,
he would wish to blot.’ Long may he be spared to
‘delight us with the fruits of his imagination, and to
instruct and bless us with his wisdom and sympathy !



RICHARD COBDEN:

FARMER’S BOY, WAREHOUSEMAN, AUTHOR, ORATOR,
AND STATESMAN.

OnE more instance of a man not born to greatness,
but who, with the all-potent talisman of perseverance
and industry, has achieved it. The small borough of
Midhurst, in Sussex, has the honour of being his
birthplace. His father was a small farmer, not over
cumbered with riches, but honoured and respected by
his neighbours. At a very early age young Cobden
concluded that Midhurst was not the place in which
to “push his way in the world.” He was ambitious,
as every boy and every man ought to be, in a right
direction and with right motives; he determined,
therefore, to leave the place of his birth, with all its
interesting associations, and to direct his steps to the
great world of London. Here he obtained admission
into one of the warehouses in a subordinate capacity.
But what did that matter ?—getting in was the first
consideration ; to a boy of resolution and determina-
tion success was then certain. There is no more
miserable fallacy than for any boy to suppose that he
can be retained 1n a situation by favour only. Recom-






aii













Young Cobden entering a London warehouse to push his way in the world.

Ts Gs ee





—_—

_ STEADINESS AND INDUSTRY. 65

mendation, the wishes of friends, and the desire of
the master to serve those friends, are not things to

-be overlooked; but there is something beyond even

that—the interest and advantage of the master, which
the boy can further, and make his own. That is the

_ principle of action to render permanent any situation

—the foundation of friendships, and the source of
honour and reward. It is because young Cobden
possessed this principle of action that we are enabled
to record of him that, by “steadiness and industry,
he rose through successive grades, till he had gained
a thorough knowledge of the business, and stood high
in the esteem of his employers.” It is worth while
to let those words, “steadiness and industry,” ring
in the ear before we pass on. London, it is admitted,
is the very vortex of dissipation; a countless number
of youths, with fair promise and buoyant hopes, have
been wrecked within its maelstrom; but could we
record upon the tombstones of any of those boys,
“he was steady and industrious,” would not the
converse be more likely to be true: “he was disso-
lute and idle?” ‘We may be sure, then, that the
fascinating influences of London were not per-
mitted to have any powerful hold on young Cobden.

“He was steady.” His employers were under no

apprehension that his evenings would be so spent

that in the morning he would be totally unfit to

perform his allotted duties. Could they have followed

him to his lodgings when the warehouse closed,
F



66 RICHARD COBDEN.

they would doubtless have seen him for one or two
hours before he retired to rest, storing his mind with
the contents of some solid useful book; or, probably,
in the company of a congenial companion, giving and
receiving that pleasure and improvement which is
always the result of wise and earnest conversation.
‘We learn thus much from a speech delivered by
Cobden when he had become famous. Upon the
occasion of one of the Manchester Atheneum Soirées,
in 1847, he said: “ When I was a youth in London,
starting in business, the whole metropolis did not
furnish such an institution as that which the Athe-
nzeum gives to youin Manchester. We had no means
of meeting young men of kindred tastes, no means
of pursuing studies, or of hearing lectures ; we were
confined to our own firesides ; we had no stimulus, no
competition among young men of our own rank and
standing, such as you have in Manchester.” At the
same meeting he said: “Oh! if I had my time
over again, and was placed in the situation in which
many of the young men here present are placed, I
would not arrive at the age of five-and-twenty without
being a perfect master of the French, German, and
Italian languages.” There is no doubt, circumstanced
as he was, he succeeded in mastering the French after
his daily labour, so that recently he has been enabled
to translate from that language a valuable work on
the influence of gold. In confirmation of the value
he attached to his quiet studious evenings, at the



RESULTS OF HIS EXPERIENCE. 67

same meeting hesaid: “I have had many changes,
I have seen many phases of society, probably as
many as most. I do not say this egotistically, because
I am merely now going to elucidate a thought. I
have seen many phases of society, I have had many
excited means of occupation, and of gratification;
but I tell you honestly and conscientiously, that if I
want to look back to that which has given me the
purest satisfaction of mind, it is in those pursuits
whichare accessible to every member of the Athenzeum.
I have not found the greatest enjoyment in the excit-
ing plaudits of a public meeting; I have not found
the greatest pleasure or interest in intercourse, some-
times with men of elevated sphere abroad, where
others would think probably that you were privileged
to meet such men; I come back to you conscien-
tiously to declare that the purest pleasures I have
ever known are those accessible to you all; it is in
the calm intercourse with intelligent minds, and in
communion with the departed great, through our
books, by our own firesides.” Richard Cobden was
not then giving a vague and ill-defined precept; he
was calling upon his own experience, commenced long
ago in his young warehouseman’s days—not spent
solitary, for had he not the thoughts of the wise and
the good to amuse and instruct him ?

We have thus learned how Cobden spent his days
and evenings when he was acquiring a knowledge of

his business. Now let us glance at the result. After
F2



68 RICHARD COBDEN,

obtaining the respect and esteem of his London
employers, and of all those with whom he had any
trade intercourse, he removed to Manchester, and
became the travelling agent of a house largely
engaged in the cotton trade; here, by his intelligence,
industry, and sound judgment, he soon proved him-
self an invaluable servant. Commercial travellers
who have been on the road a few years, are delighted
to recount the pleasant evenings spent in the com-
mercial-room in the company of Richard Cobden.
Somehow, apparently without design, the conversa-
tion was certain to take a practical turn, in which the
future M.P. was sure to take the lead; enriching his
observations with the most apt and felicitous illus-
trations. The remarks of Dr. Bowring, in reference
to a speech of Cobden’s upon another occasion, might
appropriately be cited in illustration of these com-
mercial-room discussions, ‘I listened,” said the Doc-
tor, to our friend, our missionary, who-has lately re-
turned from the most exalted of missions—“I
listened to the voice never to me so harmonious
as when again returning to us, with his calm, quiet,
impressive English sense, bringing back from the
whole field of observation valuable treasures, and
communicating them in language intelligible to all,
most interesting, and most practical.’ Such was
Richard Cobden in the commercial-room.

But he was not satisfied with the limited opportu-
nities presented for observation in his home journeys
—he was desirous to acquaint himself with the



COBDEN’S PRINTS. 69

manners and customs of other countries. Happily,
circumstances permitted his combining business with
pleasure, so that he was enabled to visit America and
a great part of Europe; and then, as we should
expect a man of his prudence and forethought would
do, soon put himself into a position to commence busi-
ness on his own account. His first venture was with
Messrs. Sherreff and Foster, at Sabden, near Black-
burn, in Lancashire, with whom he entered into
partnership ; and subsequently we find him connected
with his elder brother as a calico printer, at Chorley,
in Lancashire. In his new position he was highly
successful. The reason was mainly owing to his
devotion to his business, and the attention with which
he studied the public taste. -One circumstance will
illustrate his tact—so essential a part of a successful
career. In 1837 a gentleman visited Mr. Cobden’s
warehouse in Manchester, where he was shown some
printed muslins of a peculiarly beautiful pattern, which
‘were just about to be introduced to the market. A
few days afterwards the same gentleman was walking
in the vicinity of Goodwood, when he met some
ladies of the family of the Duke of Richmond wear-
ing the identical prints; and shortly afterwards, to
his unbounded astonishment, he saw the young
Queen going down the slopes of Windsor Park in a
dress of the same material and pattern. ‘ Cobden’s
prints,” as a matter of course, at once became the
fashion.

But Cobden was not so sordid as to allow mere



70 RICHARD COBDEN.

money-making to engross all his time and attention ;
it was sufficient to give his entire thoughts to his
business during business hours. But there were still
the evenings—turned to such excellent account long
ago in London: why not now devote them to national
improvement, as they were then devoted to personal
improvement? We learn his efforts in this direc-
tion from Mr. Archibald Prentice, then editor and
proprietor of the “ Manchester Times.” “ In 1835,”
he writes, “there had been sent to me, for publication
in my paper, some admirably written letters. They
contained no internal evidence to guide me in guess-
ing as to who might be the writer, and I concluded
that there was some new man amongst us, who, if he
held a station that would enable him to take a part in
public affairs, would exert a widely beneficial influ-
ence amongst us. He might be some young man in a
warehouse, who had thought deeply on political
economy and its application to our commercial
policy, who might not be soon in a position to come
before the public as an influential teacher ; but we had,
I had no doubt, somewhere amongst us—perhaps
sitting solitary after his day’s work in some obscure
apartment, like Adam Smith in his quiet closet at
Kirkaldy—one, inwardly and quietly conscious
of his power, but patiently biding his time, to
popularize the doctrines sent forth in the ‘ Wealth
of Nations,’ and to make the multitude think,
as the philosopher had thought, and to act upon
their convictions. I told many that a new man



WHO IS HE, AND WHAT 18 HE? 71

had come, and the question was often put amongst
my friends, ‘Who is he?’ It is some satisfaction
to me now, writing seventeen years after that
period, that I had anticipated the deliberate verdict
of the nation. In the course of that year, a pamphlet,
published by Ridgway, under the title ‘England,
Treland, and America, was put into my hand by a
friend, inscribed ‘from the author,’ and I instantly
recognised the handwriting of my unknown, much
by me desired to be known, correspondent; and I
was greatly gratified when I learned that Mr. Cobden,
the author of the pamphlet, desired to meet me at my
friend’s house. I went with something of the same
kind of feelings which I had experienced when I first,
four years before, went to visit Jeremy Bentham, the
father of the practical free-traders; nor was I dis-
appointed, except in one respect. I found a man
who could enlighten by his knowledge, counsel by
his prudence, and conciliate by his temper and
manners, and who, if he found his way into the
House of Commons, would secure its respectful atten-
tion; but I had been an actor amongst men who,
from 1812 to 1832, had fought in the rough battle for
parliamentary reform, and I missed, in the unassum-
ing gentleman before me, not the energy, but the
apparent hardihood and dash which I had, forgetting
the change of times, believed to be requisite to the
success of a popular leader. In after-years, and after
having attained great platform popularity, he had



72 RICHARD COBDEN,

been elected a member of Parliament, and when men
sneered, and said he would soon find his level there,
as other mob orators had done, I ventured to say that
he would be in his proper vocation there, and that
his level would be amongst the first men in the
House.”

How completely that prophecy of the editor of
the “ Manchester Times” has been fulfilled, every
boy who occasionally reads a newspaper already
knows.

The pamphlet entitled “ England, Ireland, and
America” was reprinted in a cheap form, and circu-
Jated in tens of thousands. A subsequent pamphlet,
* Russophobia,” was also largely distributed, which
contained the principles of Cobden’s political life.
These brochures, when first published, were intended
merely to serve the purposes of the time; they have
become, however, from their singular merit, text books
frequently cited by members of Parliament, and which
no doubt will be thoughtfully studied by the political
economist for centuries to come. We may form some
idea of the thoroughness with which these pamphlets
were written, when we learn that, before writing the
one on Russia, Cobden made a tour to the East ex-
pressly to gain information on that subject.

In Manchester and the surrounding districts, from
this period, Cobden became an established public man.
He was looked upon as an authority in all matters of
trade and business. His painstaking practical sense

ss



ELECTED AN ALDERMAN. 73

rendered his observations upon commerce singularly
valuable, as they were proved to be reliable. Amongst
other useful works in which he entered with zest, was
the formation of the Manchester Athenzeum, and the
incorporation of the town, one of the first members
of the town council being “‘ Mr. Alderman Cobden ;”
at the same time he became a member of the Man-
chester Chamber of Commerce.

In the year 1838 was commenced that agitation
on the corn-laws, which brought Cobden’s name into
world-wide celebrity. In the summer of that year
there was a deficient harvest, which was the imme-
diate occasion of forming in Manchester an Anti-
Corn-law Association. At a public meeting subse-
quently held, in which Cobden took an important
part, £3000 was subscribed to aid the Association.
At a public meeting of deputies from all parts of the
kingdom a deputation was sent to London, praying
that the House of Commons would hear evidence on
the injurious effects of the corn-laws. The prayer of
the deputies was refused. It was then proposed, on
the motion of Cobden, that the “ National Anti-

_Corn-law League” should he formed. This Associa-
tion entered so vigorously upon its work, that, before
the close of the year 1839, upwardsof one hundred im-
portant towns had formed kindred Associations; and
then, in the next year, 1840, was commenced the first
of those huge meetings which were afterwards the
scene of so many of Cobden’s oratorical triumphs.



74 RICHARD COBDEN.

At this meeting, held in a temporary pavilion on the
site of the present handsome Free Trade Hall in
Manchester, and at which, could accommodation have
been afforded, ten thousand persons would have been
present, Cobden made a ten minutes’ speech! This
is conclusive evidence of his extreme modesty, and
that he certainly had not calculated upon being the
leader of the movement, or the foremost of the fore-
most men by which he was then surrounded. From
this time until 1841 he attended meetings in all parts
of the kingdom, where he carried conviction to the
minds of thousands by the simple iteration of known
facts, and their consequent logical conclusions, And
then, in 1847, the constituency of Stockport returned
him to the Commons House of Parliament as their re-
presentative. It wassaid that he would there find his
level ; that he might successfully address a large meet-
ing of his friends and supporters ; but that it would be
a different thing when the audience was mainly com-
posed of the aristocracy of England. It was not then
thought that the speeches of Cobden in Parliament,
instead of being answered and silenced, would be the
means of converting to his views the Premier of Eng-
land—the great Sir Robert Peel.

On the 25th of August, 1841, Richard Cobden rose
in his place in Parliament to make his first speech.
The subject was the address to the throne. He said
he intended to support the address because it ex-
pressed hostility to the taxes on food. He told the



‘SIR ROBERT PEEL AND COBDEN. 75

House further, that a conference of the ministers of
religion, 650 in number, of all denominations, had
just been held in Manchester; that they had agreed
to pray every Sunday from their pulpits that God
would turn the hearts of the rulers of England to do
justice. Some of the honourable members laughed
at this statement; some were amused; others were
offended at the unusual style of speech of the newly
elected member; efforts were made to put him down,
which were completely unsuccessful. From that
night he obtained a position in the House, which he
has since always retained. Though never a com-
manding parliamentary orator of the highest class,
he has enjoyed from first to last the “ear of the
House.”

From that time, in “ the House” and out of “ the
House,’? Cobden’s business was to obtain the total and
immediate repeal of the corn-laws. For this purpose
he traversed the country, delivering lectures and hold-
ing meetings wherever men could be got together to
listen to his arguments ; seldom, it was observed, did
they depart without becoming converts to his views.
On the 2nd of July, 1846, the Act repealing the
corn-laws received the Royal Assent. Before that
consummation of Cobén’s desires, Sir Robert Peel,
who lost office in consequence of relinquishing pro-
hibitive duties on corn, made in his place in Parlia-
ment a graceful reference to the services of Cobden.
He said :—



76 RICHARD COBDEN.

“T must say, with reference to hon. gentlemen
opposite, as I say with reference to ourselves, neither
of us is the party which is justly entitled to the credit
of those measures. There has been a combination of
parties, and that combination, and the influence of
Government, have led to their ultimate success ; but
the name which ought to be, and will be associated
with the success of those measures, is the name of
the man who, acting, I believe, from pure and dis-
interested motives, has with untiring energy, by
appeals to reason, enforced their necessity with an
eloquence the more to be admired because it was
unaffected and unadorned. The name which ought
to be associated with the success of those measures,
is the name of Ricuarp CospEn.”

The work of the Anti-Corn-Law League being
done, it was dissolved. At the meeting called for its
dissolution, in Manchester, Mr. Cobden was requested
by the chairman, Mr. George Wilson, to address the
assembly. When he rose he was received with
tumultuous cheers, the assembly rising as one man.
When he could obtain a hearing, he warmly eulogised
his co-workers in the League, delicately alluding
to his own labours, in spite of the loud cries of
“No,” that far too much importance had been
ascribed to the share which he had taken in the
great struggle. The next day a modest letter
appeared from him in the newspapers, thanking his |
constituents at Stockport for their confidence, and



TAKING A HOLIDAY. 77

intimating his intention of a temporary withdrawal
from public life. As a recognition of his great
services £70,000 was speedily collected and presented
to him: a substantial, but a well-earned testimonial
for the withdrawal of his time and attention from his
own commercial transactions, and their unselfish
devotion to the prosperity of his country.

Then it was that Cobden considered himself
entitled to a holiday—taking an extensive continental
tour. Numerous ovations, however, from the ad-
mirers of Free-trade abroad, accompanied his pro-
gress. Everywhere he was received with marked
respect. Public entertainments were given him in
Geneva, Paris, and other continental cities; while at

_home the greatest constituency in England, the West
Riding of Yorkshire, elected him, in common with
his constituents at Stockport, as their representative.
When he returned from his tour, in 1847, he decided
to take his farewell of his Stockport friends and sit
for the West Riding.

True to his commercial tendencies, when the
* Exhibition of All Nations” was opened in London,
in 1851, he appeared as one of the royal commis-
sioners ; believing that a wise rivalry of productions
would materially tend to the peace and solidity of the
nations. Aud then, also, he attended the various
Peace Congresses, held both abroad and at home, in
which he enforced with his usual lucidity the mad-
ness of war and the benefits of peace. The platform,



78 RICHARD COBDEN.

however, was not the only medium by which he
sought to develop his thoughts. On the conclusion
of the Russian war, to which he had been strenuously
opposed, he published a pamphlet entitled “ What
Next? and Next?” This brochure had been preceded
by pamphlets on “ How Wars are got up in India; ”
and “ 1793 and 1853.”

We have now arrived at an incident in Cobden’s
career, sufficiently humiliating in one sense, and all-
instructive in another. We have seen the honours
heaped upon himat home and abroad. Without personal
canvas or appeal, two constituencies, one the largest
and most important in England, had in his absence re-
turned him as their representative to the HouseofCom-
mons. Now the time had come when he was to be
refused a seat—to find himself in the election of 1857
amongst the unsuccessful and rejected candidates. It
was intheJanuary of 1855 that he had convened agreat
meeting at Leeds, to address the constituency on the
subject of the war. Upon that occasion his supporters
met him in the most friendly manner, expressed their
confidence in his public character, but at the same
time protested against his views, by passing a resolu-
tion demanding the vigorous prosecution of the war.
Undaunted by this adverse motion, however, and true
to the principles of his whole life, on the 3rd of
March, 1857, in connection with Mr. Gibson, he
brought forward a motion condemnatory of Sir John
Bowring’s proceedings at Canton, and therefore of



REFUSED A SEAT IN THE HOUSE. 79

the China war. The resolution being affirmed by
the House, led to the dissolution of Parliament.
Previously, Cobden had determined to retire from
the representation of the West Riding, as taxing too
severely his time and energies; he was desirous to
represent some smaller constituency, whose parliamen-
tary wants were fewer. He first made an overture
to the electors of Salford, but not meeting with that
encouragement which would warrant his proceeding,
he left the field to a member of the Palmerstonian
Government. He next presented himself before the
electors of Huddersfield, but on the polling day a
local man was preferred to the great Free-trader, who
had converted prime ministers, and cabinets, and
Parliaments to his views. Cobden was in a decided
minority.

From that time until 1858, he lived in comparative
retirement at Midhurst, near the place of his birth.
What sort of a place the great leaguer had selected
for his retirement, and how he was estimated by the
people amongst whom he lived, we are amusingly in-
formed by the editor of the “‘ West Sussex Gazette.”

“On our visit to Midhurst two years ago,” he
writes, “we were surprised to find how little Mr.
Cobden was thought of by his neighbours, in compa-
rison with the world-wide fame he enjoys. We
imagined that the name of Cobden at Midhurst would
have been like the name of Shakspere at Stratford.
But we made no allowance for the conservative pre-



80 RICHARD COBDEN,

judices of the place. The brilliancy of the great
man seems to be obscured in the little ‘cold shades’
which surround him. ‘Can you tell me where Mr,
Cobden lives?’ we inquired of a passer-by. ‘ Mr.
Cobden, sir? He lives at about two miles away—at
Dunford.’ ‘Two miles away! why, I thought he
lived at Midhurst. Do you know if he is at home?’
was our interrogation. ‘ Which Mr. Cobden do
you mean, sir?’ Here was a pretty question to
ask—‘ Which Mr. Cobden ?’?—as if Cobdens were as
plentiful as blackberries. We told him which it
was, and he didn’t know whether he was at home or
not, and he seemed very much as if he didn’t care
either. But it might be urged in extenuation of our
informant’s ignorance, that there is a ‘Cobden’ in
West Sussex, who has gained a very considerable
reputation as a cock-fighter, and who figured some-
what conspicuously before the Shrewsbury magistrates
a little time ago. This man is perhaps better known
to the West Sussex people generally than Richard
Cobden is; and we believe that if a stranger were to
incidentally ask the first person he met in West
Sussex where ‘Cobden’ lived, the reply would be,
‘He keeps Ha’naker public-house.’? So much for
reputation.

“Passing along the highway in the direction of
Chichester, we came to a turning where there was a
decayed finger-post, a few geese, and a cottage. This
was the direction pointed out to us, Stumping away



“ MUSTER COBDEN’S” HOME, 81

along a dusty high road, with a hill on one side, and
trees on the other, we made for a church, as the only
piece of architecture visible. A rustic youth was
coming along, with some harness thrown over his
shoulder—evidently a ploughboy by calling. This
was fortunate, as we could see nothing like the house
which we wanted. ‘Holloa, my lad, just tell us
which is Mr. Cobden’s house.’ ‘Hay?’ was the
reply. ‘Mr. Cobden’s!’ we repeated. ‘Dun noa,
T’se sure, where ’tis.? We looked scornfully at the
rustic, and he passed on, peering very suspiciously
over his left shoulder, as if he were afraid of being
eaten up. Luckily we came to a turnpike or occupa-
tion gate, and a cottage. Our inquiries were here a
little more successful. ‘ Muster Cobden, he lives
that way; you be come wrong. Goo back to the
stile, and walk on the footpath over the hill till ye
comes to the white gate; and then turn to yer left
hand, and goo down over a bridge, and you’ll see a
’ white house, and that’s it.’ The stile was come to,
and we proceeded to the footpath over a hill which
was covered with furze, with a thick wood on the left.
We then came to the white gate leading into a field
with a remarkable small crop of wheat growing, and
which seemed to be eaten up by game; nota soul was
visible, and except for a startled rabbit or a thrush we
might have felt alone ; an old lane here seemed to be
overflowing with springs and grown over with trees,
being altogether impassable. Following a rarely-

G



82 RICHARD COBDEN.

trodden footpath we descended a hill, and after some
difficulty, mixed up with not a little alarm, fearing
that we should get lost, like a ‘ child in the wood,’
we espied chimneys peeping out amongst the trees ;-
these we found to belong to a nicely-built white
mansion in the Italian style. This was ‘ Muster.
Cobden’s’, residence, situated as if it were in a basin
—with a hill in front, a hill behind, and a hill by its
side. No human habitation, as far as we could see,
was anywhere near. To find the great politician,
whose fame was.chorussed by millions in every
quarter of the globe—whose speeches have been
translated into all languages—in such an out-of-the-
way spot, struck us as extremely droll. We were
half disposed to believe that we had found the wrong
house and the wrong ‘Cobden,’ and that we were
altogether mistaken; but half-an-hour’s political
conversation with this excellent orator, during which
time we were ‘ checkmated’ in every remark that
we uttered—perhaps one in every two minutes—soon
convinced us into whose hands we had fallen.”

In 1858, Cobden once more crossed the Atlantic.
In America he received. from’ public personages, as
well as from private citizens, the most flattering
courtesy. The railway officials refused the ordinary
fares when tendered by “Cobden.” To do him
honour, fétes, soirées, and public meetings would have
been convened in every town he visited, could his
consent have been obtained. He was not anxious,



MR. GLADSTONE’S COMMENDATION. 83

however, to be lauded and féted when there was no
practical object in view. And then, on his return,
when the steamer had entered the Mersey, and before
his foot had touched the shore, he was met with the
news that he had been elected in his absence a
member of Parliament for the borough of Rochdale,
and, strange as it may seem, a place reserved for him
in the cabinet! This was a glorious return for his
non-acceptance by Salford, and for his rejection by
Huddersfield. Ata large and enthusiastic meeting
of -his constituents, he stated his reasons why he
objected to take office—he could, he thought, best
serve them, and the interest of his country, by
remaining an independent member of the House of
Commons. How wisely he then determined, the
sequel has shown. Scarcely a twelvemonth had
passed since his election for Rochdale, before he had
obtained from the Emperor of the French his consent
to a new tariff; the importance of which, in its
bearings upon the prosperity and peace of the two
countries, cannot be estimated. When the Right
Hon. Mr. Gladstone submitted the tariff to the con-
sideration of the House of Commons—to the fullest
Housethat had been known for aquarter of a century —
he said: ‘‘ With regard to Mr. Cobden, speaking as
I do, at a time when every angry passion has passed
away, I cannot help expressing our obligations to
him for the labour he has, at no small personal
sacrifice, bestowed upon a measure which he, not the
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ILLUMINATED BY SAM’ STANESBY.





CLEVER BOYS

AND

Hoto they became Famous Wen.

DEDICATED TO

YOUTHS AND YOUNG MEN ANXIOUS TO RISE
IN THE WORLD.

BY THE AUTHOR OF

**FAMOUS BOYS,” AND “ HEROINES OF OUR TIME.”

“ There is a presumption, amounting almost to certainty, that if any one
will determine to be eminent, in whatever profession he may choose, and will
act with unvarying steadiness in pursuance of that determination, he will, if
health and strength be given, infallibly succeed.” —Srm Ropgrt PEEL,

Third Hvition.

LONDON:
DARTON AND CO., 58, HOLBORN HILL.
"As in walking it is your great care not to ran your foot upon a
nail, or to tread awry, and strain your leg; so let it be in all the
affairs of human life, not to hurt your mind, or offend your judg-
ment, And this rule, if observed carefully in all your deportment,
will be 3 mighty security to you in your undertakings.” —EPICTERTUs.
CONTENTS.

+
LORD MACAULAY . . .-
MICHAEL FARADAY . . e
CHARLES DICKENS . . .
RICHARD COBDEN . . .
CHARLES BIANCONI . . .
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK . . .
WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN . .
WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS .
SIR JOHN FRANKLIN . °
WILLIAM SHAW LINDSAY . .
JOSEPH HUME . . .
WILLIAM DARGAN . . .
ABEL HEYWOOD . . .
DOMINICO-FRANCOIS ARAGO . °
THOMAS SPENCER . . .
SIR DAVID BREWSTER . . .
WILLIAM HOWIIT . . .
RIGHT HON. B. DISRAELI . .
FRANCIS HORNER . . .

JOSEPH BROTHERTON . . .

PAGE

30

40

64

86

93
101
113
128
147
156
171
180
198
209
225
234
240
251
274


Hist of Gngrabings.

—_———
. PaGB
MACAULAY AT THIRTEEN YEARS OF AGE—“ TELLING BOOKS” 3
FARADAY’S MASTER DESCRIBING THE ELECTRICAL MACHINE MADE
BY HIM IN HIS LEISURE HOURS . . . . 384
DICKENS PLACING HIS FIRST LITERARY CONTRIBUTION IN THE
EDITOR’S BOX . . . a . - 44
YOUNG COBDEN ENTERING A LONDON WAREHOUSE TO PUSH HIS
WAY IN THE WORLD . . . . - 64
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK IN THE ROYAL ACADEMY, STUDYING - 94
WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS ENTERING EDINBURGH POOR
AND FRIENDLESS . 7 . . : - 115
FRANKLIN ENTERING THE NAVY AS A PETTY OFFICER . . 129

LINDSAY WORKING HIS PASSAGE TO LIVERPOOL IN THE ENGINE
ROOM OF THE STEAMER ., . . : . 147
PREFACE.

N° books are read with so much avidity or with

" so much profit as books of biography. The life-
story of great men is a theme of wondrous power.
Whence they came, their carly diflicultics, the
barriers to their progress, their failures, their suc-
cesses, and their ultimate triumphs, are severally
invested with a charm of marvellous interest. The
youth who has indolently foregone opportunities of
improvement, in common with the young man who
has been allured by the syren influences of pleasure
to forget the carnestness of life, as well as the man
of mature years just entering on the “sear and
yellow leai,”’ are equally interested and profited by
the recital of the incidents in the lives of the men
who have “made their mark” on the times in which
they lived. Precept, in such cases, can bear no
comparison with example. The incredulous and de-
sponding may doubt the realization of the precept;
but point to example—to the instance where probity
and industry have succeeded a life of listless idleness;
to the man of broken fortunes, who has arisen from
vi PREFACE,

the wrecks of a disappointed life, building up for
himself a reputation, and attaining a needed pro-
vision for his declining years—surely such an instance
would nerve the hopeless, filling him afresh with
confidence and resolution that he also will succeed !

And equally profitable, if faithfully told, is the life
of the man who has not succeeded. To know why,
the pitfalls in which he fell, the rocks on which he
was wrecked, the temptations which led to his ruin,
this to the wise is priceless knowledge.

But leaving utility out of the question, in mere
interest fiction cannot be compared with fact. The
thrilling narrative of the most imaginative novelist is
exceeded by the unvarnished tale “all too true.”
Hair. breadth escapes, dangers by flood and field,
perilous adventures, wonderful discoveries, the meta-
morphosis of the rough boy into the famous man—
one day: the associate of the stable, and then the
companion of princes; one day living in the utmost
obscurity, and then attaining a reputation resounding
throughout Europe —these are the materials, the
fascinating details of the biographer. Is it any
wonder, then, that “lives of great men” are dearly
treasured volumes in the home of peer or peasant ?

Generally, it is considered that the age of wonders
is passed, that all great things have been achieved, and
that the men who were miracles of attainment lived at
a period quite remote from the present. ‘ Although
the race of literary mammoths has become extinct,”
PREFACE. vii

said the auditor of the Dublin College Historical
Society, ‘literature has grown into a huge bulk.”
Where, then, is the proof that ‘‘ mammoths ” do not
exist mow as much as in the past? Are there not
living men, or men who have lived in our time, whose
productions will bear comparison with the literary
creations of the intellectual giants of any period?
This is true also in regard to spoken words as much
as it is true of written thoughts. However much we
may value the prelections of a Demosthenes or a
Cicero, the compositions of a Burke, a Fox, a Wynd-
ham, or a Sheridan, we cannot be insensible to the
fact that there are living celebrities whose orations
have equalled, if they have not exceeded, the greatest
oratorical triumphs of Greece or Rome. There are
men also, many of them filling important positions of
national trust, who are the possessors of immense
wealth and influence, who have risen from the lowest
strata of society, and who occupy their proud posi-
tions in virtue not of fortunes left them, some lucky
windfall, or the discovery of a golden store; but by
virtue of the resolution and determination with which
they have prosecuted their life-struggle, which might
have ended in death, but which they had resolved
should never end in defeat, their motto being, “ While
life lasts, fight on.” Be the age, or time, or circum-
stances what they may, such resolution must be
crowned with success. Not more surely will the
harvest of golden grain reward the labours of the hus-
vill PREFACE.

bandman who ploughs the ground and casts in the
seed, than material rewards will follow every effort
of honest, determined, pains-taking industry.

In mental labours, which are truly their own re-
ward, securing on the instant, in the communion of
the great and good of all time, the highest enjoyment
of which our capacities are susceptible, are there not
men who were thrown upon the world in their earliest
years, without friends, education, or prospects, who
now command by their mental possessions universal
esteem and admiration, whose cultured talents entitle
them to lead public opinion, whose names grace the
title pages of learned treatises, and who are the most
graceful, as they are the most useful, public speakers
of the time ?

When any youth, then, utters a dolorous plaint that
the “ good time” was “long, long ago,” and who
achieves nothing, because he does not attempt some-
thing, irresolution and inaction having like a blight
settled upon him ; let him stimulate himself to activity
by the perusal of the following pages, where, in a few
selected instances of living notabilities, he will find
illustrations of those who have acquired fortune, fame,
and mental wealth under the discouragements of
singular difficulties and most adverse circumstances.












































Macaulay at thirteen years of age— telling books.”
CLEVER BOYS
6 OF Our Time. |



LORD MACAULAY.

A TRADER’S SON, POET, ORATOR, ESSAYIST, AND
HISTORIAN.



Wirs the last shadows of Eighteen hundred and fifty-
nine, the spirit of the great historian departed ;
famous beyond compare in every task he undertook,
marvellous in the monetary value of his writings, which
will influence ages yet unborn, and be studied by the
future historian for their facts, as well as the student
anxious to acquaint himself with the most brilliant
author of the nineteenth century.

Of such a poet, orator, historian, and essayist, it
were worth while to inquire somewhat of his earlier
years. His father, Mr. Zachary Macaulay, without
attempting or aiming at the popularity subsequently
attained by his son, was one of the foremost men in
the anti-slavery agitation of 1883. He was not, like

B
2 LORD MACAULAY.

his son, famous for his gift of public speaking; his
services, therefore, were confined to the committee-
room and the editorial chair. Having resided both
in Africa and the West Indies, his practical acquaint-
ance with the matters in controversy imparted rare
value to his counsels, while his acute and powerful
pen was in constant requisition to prepare reports,
memorials to Parliament, pamphlets, and articles for
the periodical press. Like his son, he was celebrated
for his memory ; his mind was said to be an encyclo-
pedia of anti-slavery facts. And then, seeking no
honour in his work, he was satisfied that his labours
were of use in the cause he had espoused. Gladstone
paid him a graceful tribute in 1841, when speaking
on the subject of slavery. “There is,” said he,
“another name still more strongly associated with it.
I can only speak from tradition of the struggle for the
abolition of slavery; but if I have not been misin-
formed, there was engaged in it a man who was the
unseen ally of Mr. Wilberforce, and the pillar of his
strength—a man of profound benevolence, of acute
understanding, - of indefatigable industry, and of that
self-denying temper which is content to work in
secret, to forego the recompense of present fame, and
to seek its reward beyond the grave. The name of
that man was Zachary Macaulay.”

Thomas Babington Macaulay, afterwards Lord
Macaulay, was, as we have seen, the son of a very
worthy man, engaged in trade. _He did not inherit
HIS WONDERFUL MEMORY. 3

greatness—he achieved it. He was not born a lord;
his elevation to the peerage was a recognition of
his services to his country—the embellishment and
improvement of its literature. He first saw the light
at Rothley Temple, Leicestershire, in the year 1800.
‘His mother, Sarah Mills, had been the favourite pupil
of Mrs. Hannah More. Doubtless this was the
reason why the great moralist manifested unusual
interest in all that concerned little Tom, who. was
educated, for his first thirteen years, at home;
and, judging from results, his early training was
most admirable and judicious. Before his thirteenth
year, the little fellow was celebrated as a very apt
student. One writer says: “From his birth he
exhibited signs of superiority and genius, and more
especially of that power of memory which startled
every one by its quickness, flexibility, and range.”
While he was yet a boy he was in incessant request
to “ tell books” to his playmates. At that early date
he would repeat and declaim the longest “ Arabian
Night,” as fluently as Scheherazade herself. A little
later he would recite one of Scott’s novels—story,
characters, scenery—almost as well as though the
book were in his hand. But these pleasures were
not encouraged. The household books were the
Bible, the “ Pilgrim’s Progress,” and a few Came-
ronian divines. An eager and dramatic appetite
found food for fancy in the allegories of Scripture,
and even in the dry sectarian literature of Scottish
B2
4 LORD MACAULAY.

controversy. He himself used to tell an amusing
story of a nursery scene. For every one who came
to his father’s house he had a Biblical nickname,
Moses, Holofernes, Melchisedek, and the like. One
visitor he called The Beast. His parents frowned at
their precocious child, but Tom stuck to his point.
Next time The Beast made a morning call, the boy
ran to the window, which hung over the street, to
turn back laughing, crowing with excitement and
delight. “ Look here, mother,” cried he, ‘‘ you see I
‘am right. ‘Look, look at the number of the Beast.”
Mrs. Macaulay glanced at the hackney-coach; and,
behold its number was 666 !

Tn after-days Macaulay wrote some words on the
tender beaming affection of a mother’s love, in
which we have a delightful glimpse of the regard
entertained by the young poet towards his mother,
and of the richness and fulness of her love.

Children,” he wrote, “ look into those eyes, listen
to that dear voice, notice the feeling of even a single
touch that is bestowed upon you by that gentle hand!
Make much of it while you have that most precious
of all good gifts—a loving mother. Read the un-
fathomable love of those eyes; the kind anxiety of
that tone and look, however slight your pain. In
after-life you may have friends—fond, dear, kind
friends ; but never will you have again the inexpres-
sible love and gentleness lavished upon you, which
none but a mother bestows. Often do I sigh, in my
HIS LOVE FOR HIS MOTHER. 5

struggles with the hard, uncaring world, for the sweet,
deep security I felt, when of an evening, nestling to
her bosom, I listened to some quiet tale suitable to
my age, read in her tender and untiring voice. Never
can I forget her sweet glances cast upon me when I
appeared to sleep; never her kiss of peace at night !
Years have passed away since we laid her beside my
father in the old churchyard, yet still her voice
whispers from the grave; and her eye watches over
me as I visit spots long since hallowed to the
memory of my mother.”

When the young critic had attained his twelfth
year, his parents held a long and earnest conference
on the propriety of sending him to the Westminster
School. Mrs. Hannah More, who was consulted,
approved of the arrangement on one condition—that
Master-Tom should be a day-scholar only. She in-
sisted upon his returning every evening, to recount
at the fire-side the impressions of the day. In no
advice ever given did this good and great woman
manifest more wisdom, or indicat a clearer insight
into the depths of human nature.

_ The advantage of Tom’s attendance at the West-
minster School would be manifested in the competitive
spirit which would be engendered. At home, with-
out the stimulus of companions, it was not likely that
he would put forth very energetically his rare natural
powers. And yet, advantageous as this arrangement
seemed, it was not contemplated without misgivings.
6 LORD MACAULAY.

His nature was pure and simple; he had no bad
propensities ; it was felt, therefore, to be a dangerous
experiment to bring him into contact with the rough,
and, in too many instances, uncultured boys of a great
academy. It was hoped, notwithstanding, that his
intense love for his mother, which amounted to a
passion, would shield him from many of the petty
evils incidental to a public school.

This plan, however, was not carried into effect ; for
some unstated reason, the future historian was sent
to the private academy conducted by the Rev. Mathew
M. Preston, at Shelford, near Cambridge, prior
to which he had commenced the practice of composi-
tion. One of his earliest productions, of which there
is now no trace, was a poem descriptive of a sad acci-
dent which happened to the huntsman or whipper-in
of Childe Hugh, who fell into the cauldron in which
the meat for the hounds was boiled. A dolorous
subject indeed! At this time, according to Mrs.
Hannah More, his devotion to literature was truly
astonishing. He was also, at this early age, famous
for his conversational powers. An earnest debate is
recorded between him and a young Woolwich friend,
who was qualifying for the artillery, relative to the
comparative merits of Eugene and Marlborough !
Hannah More records how she endeavoured at this
period to make him subscribe to Sir Harry Savile’s
notion, that poets are the best writers, next to those
who write prose—but it was labour in vain. At one
EARLY AMUSEMENTS. 7

of the breakfasts of this excellent lady he recited the
whole of Bishop Heber’s “ Palestine,” and, according
to her testimony, recited it incomparably. She records
the fact that thus early his ordinary conversation
was characterised by great accuracy, spirit, and viva-
city. He was not at the same time above or un-
mindful of childish things. He was as much “amused
with making a pat of butter as a poem ;” but very
obedient withal—never persisting in doing anything
of which his friends disapproved. Mrs. More says,
on the occasion of one of his visits, “ Sometimes we
converse in ballad rhymes, sometimes in Johnsonian
sesquipedalians; at ten, we condescend to riddles and
charades. He rises early, and walks an hour or two
before breakfast, generally composing verses. I en-
courage him to live much in the open air; this, with
great exercise on these airy summits, I hope will in-
vigorate his body ; though this frail body is sometimes
tired, the spirits are never exhausted. He is, how-
ever, not sorry to be sent to bed soon after nine, and
seldom stays to our supper.”

During his visit to Barley Wood, he composed a
poem, a satire on radical reform, under the title of
“Clodpole and the Quack Doctor”’—rather early to
enter on the vexed sea of politics. It shows the
dawnings of an excellent perception, that these ema-
nations were no sooner produced than thrown aside.
He had a singular and natural aptitude for discrimi-
nating the true from the false in composition, which
8 LORD MACAULAY.

enabled him soon to discover that his own productions
were anything but perfect. Mrs. More relates that
in one of her conversations with him, on the subject
of the symptoms of a gentleman: “ He said, with
much good humour, that he had himself certain in-
fallible marks of one, which were neatness, love of
cleanliness, and delicacy in his person.” The Ma-
caulay of ’59 could have given no better definition.

Mr. Preston, in 1814, changed his residence from
- Shelford to Aspeden, near Herts. At this place
young Macaulay acquired fame as a studious an| ex-
traordinary. boy. He had by this time learned to
forget his early love for sports and pastimes. During
the play-hours he might be seen with his large head,
stooping shoulders, and pale face, reading or writing;
and even during his walks his custom was to read or
repeat poetry aloud. One of his early poetic compo-
sitions, in which he introduced the public men of the
period, is still extant :—

‘‘ Each, says the proverb, has his taste. "Tis true:
Marsh loves a controversy ; Coates a play ;
Bennett a felon; Lewis Way a Jew;

The Jew the silver spoons of Lewis Way ;
The Gipsy poetry, to own the truth,
Has been my love through childhood and in youth.”

In 1818, the embryo historian left the academy at
Shelford, and entered Trinity College, Cambridge.
Here his career was distinguished. Before his
twentieth year, he had gained the Chancellor’s medal
AT THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 9

for a poem on “Pompeii; and two years subse-
quently he was again invested with the same badge
for his poem on “Evening.” These poems, which
were published, were his introduction to the vesti-
bule of literature, in which he was afterwards to carve
out for himself so distinguished a place. Unlike most
other University prize poems, they were received with
distinguished public favour, which was deservedly ex-
tended to their young author. The next object of his
ambition was the highestclassical honour the University
confers—the second Craven scholarship—which he
obtained, and also his bachelor’s degree, in 1822.
Not being partial to mathematics was the reason
why he did not compete for honours. Out of regard,
however, to his great proficiency in other studies, he
was elected a fellow of his college. This position he
retained until his departure for India, in 1884,

There was another arena at college in which he
made a distinguished figure—the Union Debating
Society. Here he spent much of his time; here he
laid the foundation of that style which was afterwards
the admiration of the British senate, and which will
for all time furnish a model of elegance and eloquence,
valued alike by the student and matured orator.

His fame as a public speaker travelled beyond the
walls of the college. He was talked about by men
who had themselves achieved the highest position as
orators, whose prelections will bear comparison with
the most finished productions of the ancients. Lord
10 LORD MACAULAY.

Brougham wrote an admirable letter to the elder
Macaulay on the subject of his son’s gifts. The letter
is well worth transcribing ; in addition to the inte-
rest attached to it in connection with Macaulay, it
cannot be read and remembered by any one, in any
station of life, without admiration and profit.

“moO ZACHY. MACAULAY, ESQ.

ie “ Newcastle, March 10, 1823.

“My dear Friend,—My principal object in writing
to you to-day, is to offer you some suggestions, in
consequence of some conversation I have just had
with Lord Grey, who has spoken of your son (at
Cambridge) in terms of the greatest praise. He
takes his account from his son; but from all I know,
and have learnt in other quarters, I doubt not that
his judgment is well formed. Now, you of course
destine him for the bar; and assuming that this, and
the public objects incidental to it, are in his views,
I would fain impress upon you (and through you upon
him) a truth or two which experience has made me
aware of, and which I would have given a great deal
to have been acquainted with earlier in life with the
experience of others.

“ First. That the foundation of all excellence is to
be laid in early application to general knowledge is
clear: that he is already aware of; and equally so it
is (of which he may not be so well aware) that pro-
fessional eminence can only be attained by entering
LORD BROUGHAM’S LETTER, 11

betimes into the lowest drudgery, the most repulsive
labours of the profession ; even a year in an attorney’s
office, as the law is now practised, I should not hold
too severe a task, or too high a price to pay, for the
benefit it must surely lead to; but at all events the
life of a special pleader, I am quite convinced, is the
thing before being called to the bar. A young
man whose mind has once been well imbued with
general learning, and has acquired classical propensi-
ties, will never sink into a mere drudge. He will
always save himself harmless from the dull atmosphere
he must live and work in; and the sooner he will
emerge from it, and arrive at eminence. But what I
wish to inculcate especially, with a view to the great
talent for public speaking which your son happily
possesses, is that he should cultivate that talent in
the only way in which it can reach the height of the
art, and I wish to turn his attention to two points. I
speak upon this subject with the authority both of
experience and observation; I have made it very
much my study in theory; have written a good deal
upon it which may never see the light; and some-
thing which has been published; have meditated
much, and conversed much, on it with famous men;
have had some little practical experience in it, but
have prepared for much more than I ever tried, by a
variety of laborious methods; reading, writing, much
translation, composing in foreign languages, &c.; and
T have lived in times when there were great orators
12 LORD MACAULAY.

among us; therefore I reckon my opinion worth
listening to, and the rather, because I have the utmost
confidence in it myself, and should have saved a world
of trouble, and much time, had I started with a con-
viction of its truth.

“1, The first point is this: the beginning of the
art is to acquire a habit of easy speaking; and in
whatever way this can be had (which individual in-
clination or accident will generally direct, and may
safely be allowed to do so), it must be had. Now, I
differ from all other doctors of rhetoric in this: I say,
let him first of all learn to speak easily and fluently ;
as well and as sensibly as he can, no doubt, but at
any rate let him learn to speak. This is to eloquence
or good public speaking, what the being able to talk
in a child is to correct grammatical speech. It is the
requisite foundation, and on it you must build. More-
over, it can only be acquired young; therefore, let it
by all means, at any sacrifice, be gotten hold of forth-
with. But in acquiring it every sort of slovenly error
will be acquired. It must be got by a habit of easy
writing (which, as Wyndham said, proved hard read-
ing) ; by a custom of talking much in company; by
speaking in debating societies, with little attention to
rule, and mere love of saying something at any rate,
than of saying anything well. I can never suppose
that more attention is paid to the matter in such
discussions than to the manner of saying it; yet still
to say easily, ad libitum, to be able to say what you
MODELS OF ELOQUENCE. 13

choose, and what you have to say—this is the first
requisite, to acquire which everything else must for
the present be sacrificed.

“2, The next step is the grand one: to convert this
style of easy speaking into chaste eloquence. And
here there is but one rule. I do earnestly entreat
your son to set daily and nightly before him the
Greek models. First of all, he may look to the best
modern speeches (as he probably has already) ;
Burke’s best compositions, as the ‘Thoughts on the
Cause of the Present Discontents ;’ ‘Speech on the
American Conciliation,’ and ‘On the Nabob of Arcot’s
Debt ;? ‘ Fox’s Speech on the Westminster Scrutiny,’
(the first part of which he should pore over till he has
it by heart) ; ‘On the Russian Armament ;’ and ‘On
the War, 1808 ;? with one or two of Wyndham’s best,
and very few, or rather none, of Sheridan’s. But he
must by no means stop here; if he would be a great
orator, he must go at once to the fountain-head, and
be familiar with every one of the orations of Demos-
thenes. I take for granted that he knows those of
Cicero by heart ; they are very beautiful but not very
useful, except perhaps the ‘Milo pro Ligario,’ and
one or two more; but the Greek must positively be
the model; and merely reading it, as boys do, to
know the language, won’t do at all; he must enter
into the spirit of each speech, thoroughly know the
positions of the parties, follow each turn of the argu-
ment, and make the absolutely perfect, and most
14 LORD MACAULAY.

chaste and severe composition familiar to his mind.
His taste will improve every time he reads and repeats
to himself (for he should have the fine passages by
heart), and he will learn how much may be done by
a skilful use of a few words, and a rigorous rejection
of all superfluities. In this view I hold a familiar
knowledge of Dante to be next to Demosthenes. It
is in vain to say that imitations of these models won’t
do for our times. First, I do not counsel any imita-
tion, but only an imbibing of the same spirit.
Secondly, I know from experience that nothing is
half so successful in these times (bad though they be)
as what has been formed on the Greek models. I use
avery poor instance in giving my own experience ;
but I do assure you that both in courts of law and
parliament, and even to mobs, I have never made so
much play (to use a very modern phrase) as when I
was almost translating from the Greek. I composed
the peroration of my speech for the Queen, in the
Lords, after reading and repeating Demosthenes for
three or four weeks; and I composed it twenty times
over at least, and it certainly succeeded in a very
extraordinary degree, and far above any merits of its
own. This leads me to remark, that, though speaking
and writing beforehand is very well until the habit
of easy speech is acquired, yet after that he can never
write too much: this is quite clear. It is laborious,
no doubt, and it is more difficult beyond comparison
than speaking off-hand; but it is necessary to perfect
A STUDENT AT LINCOLN’S INN. 15

oratory, and at any rate it is necessary to acquire the
habits of correct diction. But I go further, and say,
even to the end of a man’s life he must prepare, word
for word, most of his finer passages. Now, would he
be a great orator or no? In other words, would he
have almost absolute power of doing good to mankind
in a free country or no? So he wills this, he must
follow these rules.
“ Believe me truly yours,
“H, Brovenam.”

Perhaps it was this letter which induced Macaulay
to go to the bar. When it was known that such was
his intention, it soon got noised abroad that a great
orator would shortly appear. The bar has always
been a favourite avenue to public life. To the literary
or political aspirant it presents the best opening to
either field of effort. Macaulay entered himself, there-
fore, as a student of Lincoln’s Inn, where, after eating
the prescribed number of dinners, he was duly called
to the bar in 1826. We have no means of ascertain-
ing the exact amount of attention which he devoted to
his legal studies. Itis more than probable, however,
imbued as his mind was at this period of his life with
the poetic and imaginative, that he had little relish for
the legal dry-as-dust studies of his inn, Whether he
ever intended to practise, after being called, is not
known; it is very likely that his only object was to
gain a more ready introduction to literary and public
16 LORD MACAULAY.

life. He went, however, one circuit at least: we
learn that, fact from a conversation of Sidney Smith.
Some one was speaking to the reverend critic of Ma-
caulay’s great powers when a young man, when he
replied, “ Yes, I take great credit to myself; I always
prophesied his greatness from the first moment I saw
him, then a very young and unknown man, on the
northern circuit. There are no limits to his know-
ledge, on small subjects as well as great; he is like
a book in breeches.”

Macaulay’s first-recorded public speech was de-
livered in 1824, on the subject of the infamous slave
trade—a theme, taking into account his antecedents,
his family associations, the bent and bias of his own
mind, peculiarly fitted for a first effort, upon which
occasion he might, if at any time, be expected to be
eloquent. That speech made Macaulay famous. It
was lauded by the “ Edinburgh Review,” and con-
demned by the “ Quarterly ;” the former the organ ot
the anti-slavery party, the latter the representative
of the planters and slave-owners. Mr. Wilberforce
said, in relation to the speech of the young lawyer,
that his old friend Zachary “ would, no doubt, joy-
fully bear all his apostleship brought upon him for
the gratification of hearing one so dear to him plead
such a‘cause in such a manner.”

It was this speech which introduced him to the
pages of the “ Edinburgh.” His first contribution
being in 1826, the “ Essay on Milton,” which, says
TWO MARVELLOUS BOYS. 17

friendly critic, “ was full of deep, thoughtful apprecia-
tion and splendid imagery, and polished till it was,
while a model of the simplicity of nature, a marvel of
the world of art. Indeed, the talent displayed in
this single production was sufficient, not only to stamp
the author as a writer of the highest grade, but to
bring him into close intimacy with Mr., afterwards
Lord Jeffrey.” Macaulay himself, however, criticis-
ing this first production, has referred to it as being
“overloaded with gaudy and ungraceful ornament.”
“Written,” says he, ‘‘ when the author was fresh from’
college,”’ it contains scarcely a paragraph such as his
mature judgment approves.” This essay was not his
first published prose composition. He had previously
contributed some papers to the “ Etonian,” a school
publication, with which Winthrop Mackworth Praed
was connected. Miss Mitford, in subsequently refer-.
ring to the two contributors, said: “It is now nearly:
thirty years ago that two youths appeared at
Cambridge, of such literary and poetical promise as
the University had not known since the days of
Gray. What is rarer still, the promise was kept. One
of these marvellous boys turned out a man of world-
wide renown, the spirited poet, the splendid orator,
the brilliant historian, the delightful essayist—in a
word, Thomas Babington Macaulay, now, I suppose,
incontestably our greatest living writer.”

After the Milton paper, its young author ania
himself to literature with the utmost industry. “He

c
18 LORD MACAULAY.

wrote poetry, he wrote essays, he wrote imaginary con-
versations, he wrote critiques, he wrote in every form.”
To Knight’s “ Quarterly Magazine ” he became the
principal contributor, under the assumed name of
“ Tristram Merton.” His earliest contributions to that
journal were “ Fragmentsofa Roman Tale,” an “ Essay
on West Indian Slavery,” and a paper on “ The Royal
Society of Literature.” The second volume of the
journal contained from his pen “Scenes from
Athenian Revels,’ “Songs of the Huguenots,”
** Criticisms on the Principal Italian Writers; No. 1.
Dante ;”” two “Songs on the Civil War; 1. The
Cavalier’s March to London; 2. The Battle of
Naseby ;” “ Criticisms on the Italian Writers ; No. 2.
Petrarch ;” and “Some Account of the Law-suit
between the Parishes of St. Denis and St. George in
the Water, Part 1.” In the third and last volume,
as it proved, the names of contributors were not
given. It is very probable that “A Conversation
between Mr. Abraham Cowley and Mr. John Milton,
touching the great Civil War,” “The Athenian
Orators,” ‘ Milford’s Greece,’ and a paper entitled
“A Prophetic Account of a National Epic Poem—
The Wellingtoniad,” were by Macaulay.

The reason Mr. Knight discontinued his “ Quarterly
Magazine” was owing to the difficulties he experi-
enced in connection with his young gifted contri-
butors. “‘ The present number, ” he wrote, will be the
last, the real cause of its stoppage being a Chancery
A BREAKFAST AT ETON. 19

injunction, which was issued to suppress the previous
number, containing Byron’s correspondence.” To
celebrate the ‘“breaking-up” of the serial, an Eton
breakfast was determined upon, to which the boys,
on the outside of the old “ Royal Windsor,” had gone
down to meet their friends. In the last paper of the
Magazine an account is given of the doings of
the morning. Amongst those present were “ Vy-
vyan Joyeuse,” “ Edward Haselfoot,” “ Heaviside,”
“Vernon,” “Sir Thomas,” and “ Gerard.’ Betwixt
breakfast and dinner criticisms and papers were read
on Byron and Shelley. At the dinner, writes the
Magazine contributor, they mustered very strong.
“JT have not had, many hours of my life, more
exquisite enjoyment than this meeting with so many
that I love and admire. There was ‘ Hales’ (Cole-
ridge), whom we had not seen for a twelvemonth,
with his calm look of gentlemanly self-possession ;
‘Merton’ (Macaulay), with his quick glance of pene-
tration and decision; ‘Murray,’ with his retiring
politeness, which gave an additional charm to the
power of his intellectual smile; ‘ Vyvyan,’ with his
cordial good-humour and his graceful badinage.”
Leaving this joyous company, let us proceed with
the gifted “ Merton” to the House of Commons, to
which he was elected by the inhabitants of Calne,
a seat in the nomination of Lord Lansdowne, in the
year 1831. His first speech, to which considerable
public attention was attached, was on the subject of
c2
20 LORD ‘MACAULAY.

the “ Disabilities of the Jews ;” this was followed by
one on the “ Reform Bill.” _ The part he took in the
discussion of this great measure placed him in the
front rank of the foremost orators of the time. Sir
James Mackintosh, of all men most capable to form
an opinion, said, in reference to the fourth night of
the debate: “ Macaulay and Stanley made two of the
finest speeches ever spoken in Parliament.” Lord
Jeffrey, who may be styled the father of critics,
said, in reference to another occasion: ‘ Mac. is
a marvellous person; he made the very best speech. ©
that has been made this session on India, a few:
nights ago, to a house of less than fifty. The
Speaker, who is a severe judge, says he rather thinks
it the best speech he ever heard.” ek

When the Reform Bill became law—a. measure to
which Macaulay had. so: materially contributed—he
was returned to the new Parliament by the newly
enfranchised borough of: Leeds. Soon after he had
taken his seat, he received an appointment to the
secretaryship of the Board of Control; and sub-
sequently a seat ‘at. the East India Company’s
Supreme Council at Calcutta. His stay in India was
limited to four. years, returning in the year 1838.
While there, the task upon which he was employed.
was the reconstruction of the criminal law; and,
taking into account the limited time at his disposal.
to study the habits and peculiarities of the people.
for whom he was legislating, it is not wonderful that
DISINCLINATION FOR OFFICE. 21

he signally failed. But, unsuccessful as he unquestion-
ably was in law-making, his visit to India was of
essential service. While there he collected the
materials for the most brilliant of his essays on
Clive and Warren Hastings.

When he returned to England in 1838, he was
invited to offer himself as a candidate for the
representation of Edinburgh. In his letter in reply
to the invitation he said, “I have already, since my
return from India, declined one lucrative and honour-
able office, that of Judge-Advocate; and I think I
may safely venture to promise that I will never hold
any Office, however high, except under circumstances
in which it would be wrong and dishonourable to
decline it. I dislike the restraints of official life. I
love freedom, leisure, and letters. Salary is no object
to me, for my income, though small, is sufficient for a
man who has no ostentatious tastes.” On the 29th
of May, 1839, he addressed the electors in the Music
Hall, and on the 4th of June he was duly elected
the representative of the ancient city. A few months
afterwards, on his becoming Secretary at War, he
was re-elected without opposition. This was the
case, also, at the general election of 1841.

Soon after this election, he was solicited to
continue a previous custom of the members of the
city, and contribute towards the race funds. To
this application, which he viewed as a species of
corruption, he replied in a manly letter, in which he
22 LORD MACAULAY.

said, “In the first place, I am not clear that the
object is a good one. In the next place, I am clear
that by giving money for such an object, in obedience
to such a summons, I should completely change the
whole character of my connection with Edinburgh.
It has been usual enough for rich families to keep a
hold on corrupt boroughs, by defraying the expense
of public amusements ; sometimes it is a ball, some-
times a regatta. The Derby family used to support
the Preston races. The members for Beverley, I
believe, find a bull for the constituents to bait. But
these were not the conditions on which I undertook
to represent Edinburgh; in return for your generous
confidence, I offer faithful parliamentary service, and
nothing else. The call that is now made is one so
objectionable, that I must plainly say I would rather
take the Chiltern Hundreds than comply with it. I
should feel this if I were a rich man, but I am not
rich ; I am on the point of laying down my carriage,
leaving my house, breaking up my establishment,
and settling in chambers. I have the means of living
very comfortably, according to my notions, and 1
shali still be able to spare something for the common
objects of our party, and something for the distressed.
But I have nothing to waste on gaieties which can
at best only be considered as harmless.”

In 1846, when he resumed office as Paymaster-
General of the Forces, he was opposed at the election
by Sir C. E. Smith; the poll closed, however, with

‘
THE PLEASURES OF LITERATURE. 23

1735 for Macaulay, and 832 for his opponent. In
the course of his hustings speech made on that
occasion, he uttered some words which were well to
be remembered by the aspirants for public honours.
«“ The contest which we are told is at hand,” he said,
“can have no issue for which I am not perfectly
prepared. Seven years ago, at your spontaneous
invitation—an invitation neither directly nor indi=
rectly sought by me, I re-entered public life, which,
till then, I thought I had left for ever. While I
retained your confidence, I was determined that I
would not quit my post. If you now reject my
services, it is not my intention to tender them to any
other body of electors. I shall consider myself as
having received a legitimate and honourable dis-
missal, such as will authorise me to return to pursuits
from which I have derived far more happiness than
ever I enjoyed in the affairs of the British senate.
To hold office, or to be in parliament, ought not to
be necessary to any man’s happiness; and I bless
God that it is not necessary to mine. I do not think
any man an object of pity, who can, with a character
and conscience unsullied, exchange politics for the
_ pleasures of literature and domestic life—which has a
pleasure and distinction which the government can
neither give nor take away.”

In 1847, Macaulay, experiencing the fate of Burke
at Bristol, and Bright at Manchester, was by the
constituency of Edinburgh most discreditably re-
24 LORD MACAULAY.

jected. His rejection was mainly owing to an
unfortunate sentence in one of his parliamentary
speeches, relative to the Maynooth grant. Prior to
the election, he addressed the electors in the Music
Hall, on which occasion he defended himself from the
aspersions which had been cast upon him, in a very
remarkable manner. - “ Exclusion from public life,”
he said, “ may have terrors for the man who is con-
scious he has brought it upon himself by unworthy
conduct towards his country. It may have terrors
to the man who has no tastes, and no occupations to
supply the place of public business; but as for me,
my conscience reproaches me with no wrong. On my
integrity, malice itself has never thrown astain. I have
no fears that my hours will pass heavily in retire-
ment ; and I do not altogether despair of being able to
show that even in retirement, something may be done
for the greatest and most lasting interests of society.”
Subsequently, several constituencies endeavoured
to induce him to permit them to put him in nomina-
tion ; but to all such requests he returned a firm denial.
Two years after his rejection, Glasgow did itself
honour by electing him Lord Rector of its University;
and then, in 1849, he was appointed to the profes-
sorship of Ancient History in the Royal Academy..
On the retirement of Sir William Gibson Craig,
the inhabitants of Edinburgh had repented of their
folly, and were desirous of rectifying the error they
had committed: there was considerable difficulty
RETIRES FROM PARLIAMENT. 25

in the way of doing this. Macaulay would neither
offer himself as a candidate, nor would he even say
that he would accept if he was elected; so keenly
did he feel the injustice of his dismissal. He was,
however, returned in a manner highly flattering to
himself. Without canvassing, without even coming
forward as a candidate, he was triumphantly returned
at the head of the poll. On his taking his seat in
parliament, considerable interest was manifested
in his appearance. When the word was passed in
the ante-rooms of the House, that Macaulay was
“up,” the rush to hear him was immense; after this
he seldom spoke. He had now arrived at a period
of his life when he could only address a public
assembly at the cost of considerable pain to himself.
This induced him, in 1855, to write to his friends in
Edinburgh, when he said : “ I hope that you will not
think me importunate, if I again and very earnestly
beg you to consider the state of the representation
of the city. I feel every day more and more that
my public life is over. I am not, thank God, in
intellect or in affections, but in physical power, an
older man by some years than I was last Easter.”
For these reasons, in 1856, he retired from the arena
in which he had so often won the plaudits of friends
and the admiration of political foes.

The four years of his absence from the House of
Commons—1847 to 1852—had been devoted to the
composition of his “ History of England ;” and from
26 LORD MACAULAY.

1856, to the close of his career, he was employed
upon that enduring monument of his genius and in-
dustry. One of his critics, gratifying a laudable
curiosity in his countrymen, withdraws the screen for
an instant, giving us a peep of the famous historian
at work. “One great secret,” he writes, “of the
vivid character of Macaulay’s descriptions, was the
zeal with which he visited and made inquiries in the
localities where many of the events took place which
he recorded in his History. At Weston Zoyland, a
village in Somersetshire, about four miles from
Bridgewater—celebrated as being the scene of the
Duke of Monmouth’s defeat at the battle of Sedge-
moor—the historian is well known. He resided at
a humble inn in the village for some weeks, occu-
pying his time with minute investigations in the
neighbourhood, and writing that portion of his narra-
tive while the facts and impressions were fresh on his
mind, in a little room which ‘is still shown there to
the rare visitors to the locality.” The suecess of the
History was unparalleled. The first and second
volumes ran through five editions in six months,
numbering in all 18,000 copies; 25,000 copies of
volumes three and four were printed, and a second
edition immediately commenced. For the copyright
of the History, the eminent publishers, Messrs.
Longman, have paid the illustrious author the reve-
nues of a prince. The “ Atheneum” says that he
received from them, in one single cheque, £20,000.
RAISED TO THE PEERAGE 27

In 1857, as a graceful recognition of his eminent
services, Macaulay was raised to the Peerage—an
honour neither solicited nor sought by him. Owing,
however, to the growth of infirmities, and the advance
of years, he was seldom seen, and more seldom
heard, in the House of Lords; and then, before the
expiration of three years from his elevation, the spirit
had departed from the clay, where it had so long won
the admiration of mankind. On the night of the
21st December, 1859, Thomas Babington Macaulay
had ceased to exist. His remains were deposited
within the sacred precincts of Westminster Abbey,
surrounded by the dust of the men whose genius
ennobled and whose labours enlightened their country,

The reader of the Essays, the Poems, the Speeches,
and the Histories of Lord Macaulay, will be prepared
to admit that he had genius, and genius of a very high
order; but he should not forget also that the great
author had that which every man of genius has not,
immense application and persevering industry. It is
true, also, that he had a memory of the most reten-
tive kind; but then, he had to learn in order to
remember. An intimate acquaintance with historical
facts and incidents, a knowledge of the laws and
relations of the boundless present, do not come to the
most gifted by inspiration. They, in common with the
sluggishand unimaginative, must learn; although they
may have a greater aptness in learning anda greater
retentiveness in retaining what they have learned.
28 LORD MACAULAY.

Macaulay, with all his genius, despised no means and °

avoided no toil which promised to add to his stores
of knowledge. During one of his college vacations,
in order to familiarise himself with the ballads of the
northern counties of England, he cheerfully under-
took the labour of traversing Cumberland and North-
umberland on foot, entering the cottages of the poor
people, and sitting down in their chimney-corners to
chat about the stories and legends, the anxious
object of his journey, which he carefully recorded day
by day. Upon another occasion, after his elevation
to the peerage, desirous to acquaint himself with the,
ballad literature of the day, he bought a handful of
songs from a street patterer in Seven Dials. It is
amusingly said that, “ Proceeding on his way home,
he was astonished, on suddenly stopping, to find
himself surrounded by half a score of urchins, their
faces beaming with expectation. “Now, then,” said
the historian, “what is it?” ‘Oh! that is a good
un,” replied the boys, “after we’ve a-come all this
way.” ‘But what are you waiting for?” said he,
astonished at the lads’ familiarity. ‘‘ Waiting for ?
why, to hear you sing, to be sure.”

As another means of adding to his mental acquire-
ments, Macaulay was fond of rummaging book- stalls
and scarcely a dusty old book-shop in any bye court
or out of the way corner in London escaped his
attention. He might frequently have been seen

mounting a ladder, and scouring the top shelves for’
THE .SOURCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 29

quarto pamphlets, or curious literary relics of a by-
gone age, coming down, after an hour’s examination,
covered with dust and cobwebs. After he had
‘purchased a book or volume of old pamphlets, he was
impatient to have it home, and would frequently take
a shabby old folio, a couple of centuries old, under
his arm, and act as his own porter.

These instances, slight as they may be deemed,
serve to indicate the diligence and zeal of the great
historian in the pursuit of knowledge. He had early
learned a motto, which may well serve to close this
imperfect sketch, and which may be commended to
the thoughtful youth and young man desirous to
increase in mental knowledge—“ Read, and you will
learn.”
MICHAEL FARADAY, LL.D.,

SON OF A POOR BLACKSMITH, A BOOKBINDER’S
APPRENTICE, AND NOW THE WORLD-FAMED
CHEMIST.

Eneianp’s greatest heroes, benefactors, and dis-
coverers, have risen from the ranks—men who had
to make their own way in the world, to work that
they might have daily bread, and who, in order that
they might obtain knowledge, and the power which
knowledge gives, have had to employ their evening
hours, and hours torn from bed at early morn, in
determined resolute study of some prescribed task.
And, strange as it may seem, these men, by putting
earnestness into their studies, have not only equalled, —
but passed the men who have had every assistance of
a systematic education, the facilities of school and
university, the advice and teaching of competent
masters, and an unlimited range of books. We may
therefore conclude that, in the instance of two boys
who will ultimately devote themselves to any branch
of the sciences, one having every aid in his studies, «
the other being early put to manual labour to earn


















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Faraday’s master describing the electrical machine made by him
in his leisure hours.

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WHY POOR YOUTHS SUCCEED. 3l

the means of living, the chances are that the “son
of toil” will make a more creditable appearance than
his more fortunate compeer. The problem is not very
difficult of solution. In one case, the youth has been
satisfied with the ordinary routine of his studies;
the other, knowing the value of his leisure, has
grasped every fact presented to him through the
medium of his few books, with a tenacity that has
made them allhis own. His daily toil has also added
to his capability of study. It has made him earnest.
He has learned betimes that life is a serious thing,
that time is life’s most valued gift, and therefore, to
waste time is to waste life. His daily labour being
done, every moment is treasured and vigorously
devoted to the prosecution of the task upon which he
has set his heart. It is no wonder that he succeeds:
it would be a wonder if he did not.

England’s most eminent chemist—the great Fara-
day—is no exception to this rule. The son of a poor
blacksmith, of whom it might be said, as the American
poet wrote of another of the trade :

* Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begun,
Each evening sees its close ;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night’s repose.”

Michael Faraday was born in London in 1791.
Little did his poor father think that he would attain
22 MICHAEL FARADAY.

to a world-wide celebrity; that Prince Albert, even,
the husband of our Queen, would think himself
honoured by presiding at a lecture delivered by his
son. Happily, all this was concealed from the black-
smith, otherwise Michael might have been spoiled by
foolish attentions; he might, in anticipation of his
future greatness, have become vain and conceited,
which would certainly have destroyed both him and
his prospects.

When his infantile years had passed, and he had
arrived at that period when he could be sent from
home, he was no longer permitted to remain there.
He must commence thus early the race for bread.
He must assist. his father, who had so far maintained
him by the sweat of his brow while toiling at the forge.
It was little that he could do or earn—one or two
shillings at the most; but even that sum, thrown into
the Saturday night’s store, would be useful. It was
not unreasonable, and Michael did not. object. He
did object, however, to the blacksmith business. It
was too rough and coarse to assort acceptably with
his fine and gentle spirit. In deference, therefore,
to his wishes, he was apprenticed to a bookseller and
bookbinder of the name of Riebau, in Blandford
Street. He worked at these callings steadily and
industriously until he was twenty-two years of age.

“What!” says some fine youth, home for the
holidays, who, as # special treat, has been taken to
hear a lecture and witness the chemical experiments
MAKING OPPOKTUNITIES. 33

of the great Faraday, while he was surrounded by the
élite of the aristocracy, ‘‘ do*you mean to tell me that
he did not go to school in his youth, and finish his
education in one of the universities?” Moderate
your amazement, my young friend. How could he do
this, and yet be apprenticed to one Riebau, the book-
seller, whom he served faithfully and well until his
twenty-second year? This is the moral that you had
need to remember—if he, with his limited opportuni-
ties, could achieve so much, what ought you to achieve
with your greater facilities ?

It would be wrong, however, to say that Faraday
had no education in his youth. The fact is quite the
contrary. It is true he had not the opportunity of
attending school, or becoming a member of any of
the great seats of learning. He had an education
nevertheless, but it was an education obtainable by
every boy—got during the evening and morning hours;
not spent laboriously decorating the outside of books,
but studiously spent in poring over the informa-
tion contained in their pages. That was all the
education the great chemist received; and no
small education either, when we look at the results.
Education is not so much a question of means as is
is of purpose. Resolution and determination have
achieved more, with a few books purchased for so
many pence, than a purposeless life, with an immense
library and every educational means to boot.

Faraday, in the course of his reading, had met with

D
34 MICHAEL FARADAY.

interesting descriptions of chemical and electrical
experiments. . He was anxious to: make the experi-
ments for himself. The costly character of the
needed apparatus. quite precluded his entertaining
the .idea of purchasing it. He could, however,
endeavour to make it. And if we are to believe the
evidence: on the subject, he not only made the
apparatus he required for his experiments, but made
it ina very creditable. manner. Indeed, it. was
his construction of an electrical machine that imme-
‘ diately led to his adoption of chemistry as a pro-
fession. His master, whilst he was yet an apprentice,
called, the attention of one of his customers—a Mr.
Dance, of Manchester Street—to an electrical machine
and other things which young Faraday had made.
Mr. Dance was so pleased with the evidence of genius
and < perseverance. manifested in the home-made
apparatus, that he determined to give him a treat by
taking him to hear the last four lectures which Sir
Humphry Davy delivered in the Royal Institution.
Faraday thus related .the circumstance in a letter to
Dr. Parris. . “My dear sir, you asked me to give
you an account of my first introduction to Sir H.
Davy, which I am very happy todo, as I think the
circumstances will bear testimony to his goodness of
heart. When I was a bookseller’s apprentice I was
very fond of experiment, and very averse to trade.
It happened that a gentleman, a member of the Royal
Institution, took me to hear some of Sir H. Davy’s
SIR H. DAVY’S LETTER. 35

last lectures in Albemarle Street. I took notes,
and afterwards wrote them out more fairly in a
quarto volume. My desire to escape from trade,
which I thought vicious and selfish, and to enter into
the service of science, which I imagined made its
pursuers amiable and liberal, induced me at last to
take the bold and simple step of writing to Sir H.
Davy, expressing my wishes, and a hope that, if an
opportunity came in his way, he would favour my
views; at the same time I sent the notes I had taken
at his lectures. The answer, which makes all the
point of my communication, I send you in the
original, requesting you to take care of it, and to let
me have it back, for you may imagine how much
I value it. You will observe that this took place at
the end of the year 1812, and early in 1813 he
requested to see me, and told me of the situation of
assistant in the laboratory of the Royal Institution,
then just vacant. At the same time that he thus
gratified my desires as to scientific employment,
he still advised me not to give up the prospects I
had before me, telling me that Science was a harsh
mistress, and, in a pecuniary point of view, but
poorly rewarding those who devoted themselves to
her service. He smiled at my notion of the superior
moral feelings of philosophic men, and said he would
leave me to the experience of a few years to set me
right on the matter. Finally, through his good
efforts, I went to the Royal Institution, early in
D2
86 MICHAEL FARADAY.

March of 1813, as assistant in the laboratory; and
in October of the same year went with him abroad,
as his assistant ‘in experiments and in writing. I
returned with him in April 1815, resumed my sta-
tion in the Royal Institution, and have, as you know,
ever since remained there.—I am, dear sir, very
truly yours, M. Farapay.”

The letter written by Sir H. Davy was as
follows :-—

“ December 24th, 1812.

“Sir,—I am far from displeased with the proof
you have given me of your confidence, and which
displays great zeal, power of memory, and attention.
I am obliged to go out of town, and shall not be
settled in town till the end of January. I will then
see you at any time you wish. It would gratify me
to be of any service to you. I wish it may bein my
power.—I am, sir, your obedient humble servant,
HH. Davy.”

From this point Faraday’s progress was steadily
onward: he knew that his success depended upon
himself; to secure which he neither spared time nor
labour. His attention, ever on the stretch, permitted ©
no fact to pass unobserved or unrecorded. The
result, so easily predicated of such a course, is the
present eminent position of Faraday; his pains-
taking researches have resulted in discoveries that
have raised him to the highest rank among European
philosophers, whilst his singular power in the lecture-
HIS CHARMING SIMPLICITY, 37

room, which enables him to demonstrate with the
utmost clearness to a mixed audience his most
recondite investigations, renders him the most
delightful of lecturers. The subjects he has selected
for study, are those usually considered the most
perplexing departments of physical science—the
relations of heat, light, magnetism, and elec-
tricity; which, by the clearness of his perceptions,
and the continuance of his patient labour, he has
materially simplified. He lives in the hope that he
will yet be able to demonstrate that these agencies
are only so many manifestations of the same force.
His preseut great achievements are recorded and
acknowledged by every learned society in Europe ;
and Oxford, in 1832, conferred on him the civil
distinction of Doctor of Laws. While he is thus
honoured in public life, he is esteemed in private for
his charming simplicity of character, and the truth-
fulness and kindliness of his disposition.

The editor of the “ Edinburgh Philosophical Jour-
nal,” in estimating the writings of Faraday, says :—
“He combines to a rare extent great boldness in
speculating, with great caution in concluding. His
patience and perseverance as a worker are as remark-
able as his originality as a thinker, and his skill as
an expositor; and, with an ingenuity in devising expe-
riments, and a manipulative skill and dexterity in
performing them—never, we believe, surpassed—he
combines an accuracy and fidelity in working, such
38 MICHAEL FARADAY.

as brilliant experimenters and dexterous manipulators
often fail to exhibit. Half-truths with him are
hateful things, and he grudges neither thought, nor
time, nor labour—not to speak of expense—provided
they will bring him: certainty of knowledge, even
though it be but the certainty of nescience. His aim
is a decided. Yes or No; or the attainment of
the certainty that the problem is one that man
cannot answer cither way. The cheerful acknow-
ledgment of the labours of others, the patient study
of all reasonable objections to his own most cherished
views, the frank confession of change of opinion,
where that has occurred, the lowly estimate of him-
self, and the lofty, nay, solemn estimate of the dignity
of his vocation as an unfolder of the works of God,
make us love as much as we honour our great electri-
cian, and should prompt our younger men to imitate
his spirit, which they may all do, as well as rival
him in his discoveries, in which they may be less
successful.”

That is an important fact, well to be remembered.
It is not given to any boy or young man, by the
exercise of any amount of perseverance or industry,
co achieve the fame of Faraday; to write a poem like
Milton; to paint a picture or sculpture a block like
Michael Angelo. Shakspeare had a genius for the com-
position of plays and poems—which he has composed,
and therefore need not composing again; Chantry,
the milk-lad of Sheffield, had marvellous aptness in
THE MORAL DEDUCED. i

the moulding and carving of exquisite figures. Any
one imitating his productions would simply reproduce
what had already been done: tasks of this character,
‘therefore, would be profitless, even if boy or man,
with the needed genius, set himself to the work. The
moral of the lives of great men is not the stimulus to
the same course of life, with the same rewards in
store. The true moral is, that they, with perseverance
and painstaking labour, have arisen from the hum-
blest positions to a position of the highest eminence ;
and that, therefore, any boy or young man, who also
wishes to stand well in the world, to fill his station,
whatever that may be, with credit and honour, must,
by labour and perseverance, work out his laudable
intention, by the proper display of his powers.
CHARLES DICKENS:

ATTORNEY’S CLERK AND THE WORLD-FAMED
AUTHOR.



“ He had from the first, as Sir Hugh Evans says of Ann
Page, ‘ good gifts,’ which he improved by study and attention
in a most exemplary manner.”

THe magician who has summoned from the “ vasty
deep,” “ Sammy Weller,” “ Sarey Gamp,” “ Mark
Tapley,” and “Tom Finch,” is Charles Dickens—a
name not very promising, in which there is nothing
aristocratic or high-sounding ; rather plebeian, if any-
thing. And yet in all this goodly England, nay,
over the surface of the entire globe, what name
is better known or more loved? Blessings on
him! his books have ever been the precursors of
good! Time-serving, pandering to low and vicious
appetites, catering for the morbid and the de-
praved, has never been his business. He has
written to amuse, but his amusement has always
tended to improvement. He has ofttimes moved us
to tears; but we have felt better, stronger for them. He
has ever taught us that fraud and wrong, that craft
and deceit, that whining hypocrisy and servile syco-
i

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Dickens placing his first literary contribution in the editor’s box.

i tartitirchet WC? ms
THE FATHER OF CHARLES. 4]

phancy, is a false miserable policy, sure to meet with
fitting punishment and its.wretched reward. And then
do we not owe him largess for delightful hours spent
with “ Little Dombey ;” with confiding ‘“ David Cop-
perfield ;” for pleasant evenings in “ Bleak House ;”
for profit and pleasure in “ Hard Times?” In good
sooth, it would be difficult to say what we owe him,
and what we do not owe him. This is certain, that
no name comes upon the ear more pleasantly, and is
the augury of more good, than the name of Charles
Dickens.

On the 15th of February, 1812, the future great
novelist was born at Landport, Portsmouth. Mr.
John Dickens, the father of our hero, was at the
time employed as clerk in the Navy Pay Office
When the war was at an end he retired upon a pension.
Subsequently, being a man of considerable ability, he
obtained a situation on the “ Morning Chronicle,”
being employed in the gallery of the House of
Commons to report the debates for that newspaper.

Unfortunately we have no material record of the
infantile years of Charles. We do not know whether
it was his custom, as a child, to quit the society
of other children, to wander in solitary by-paths ;
or whether, which is more likely, he sought the
friendly laugh and joyous hilarity of his little com-
peers. We do not know whether he was quick and
apt in learning his lessons ; or, in imitation of many
great men who have gone before, was dull and
42 CHARLES DICKENS.

stupid in his youth. We do know, however, that,
so soon as his preliminary education was concluded,
obtaining such education as is common in an ordinary
day-school, he was articled to an attorney, where
he made himself acquainted with legal technicalities,
of which he made such admirable use in his “ Bleak
House.” But drawing writs and. serving processes
did- not accord with the desires of young Dickens.
He determined, in emulation of his sire, to be a
reporter; and to this end set himself the task of
learning the “art and mystery” of shorthand.. He
afterwards thus recorded his difficulties :—

“T did not allow my resolution with respect to
the parliamentary debates to cool. It was one of
the irons I began to heat immediately, and one of
the irons I kept hot and hammered at with a perse-
verance I may honestly admire. I bought an ap-
proved scheme of the noble art and mystery of steno-
graphy (which cost me ten and sixpence), and plunged
into a sea of perplexity, that brought me in a few
weeks to the confines of distraction. The changes
that were rung upon dots, which in one posi-
tion meant such a thing, and in another position
something else entirely different; the wonderful
vagaries that were played by circles, the unaccount-
able consequences that resulted from marks like flies’
legs, the tremendous effects from a curve in the
wrong place, not only troubled my waking hours,
but reappeared before me in my sleep. When I had
DIFFICULTIES OF SHORTHAND. 43

groped my way blindly through these difficulties, and
had mastered the alphabet, which was an Egyptian
temple in itself, there then appeared a procession of
new horrors, called ‘ arbitrary characters’—the most
despotic characters I have ever known—who insisted,
for instance, that the thing like the beginning ofa
cobweb meant ‘ expectation,’ that a pen-and-ink sky-
rocket stood for ‘ disadvantageous.’ When I had fixed
thesewretches in my mind, I found that they had driven
everything else out of it; then, beginning again, I-
forgot them; while I was picking them up, I dropped
other fragments of the system: in short, it was almost
heart-breaking.”

But young Dickens was not cast in the mould of
despondency ; he persevered, and, as a certain conse-
quence, succeeded. He was first employed as a
reporter upon a newspaper called the “True Sun ;”
his next engagement was upon the “ Morning Chro-
nicle,” during which time he manifested the possession
of his wondrous powers. He was from the first
celebrated for his reports, which were marvels of
“clearness, vigour, and extreme exactness.” But
this was not the work for which he was intended.

Successful as he was as a reporter, it was not
in the reproduction of other men’s thoughts that his
laurels were to be won. He had, or he fancied he
had, thoughts of his own, which would be welcomed
by “a discerning public.” Some sketches and tales
he had written, he “dropped stealthily one evening,
44 CHARLES DICKENS,

at twilight, with fear and trembling, into a dark letter-
box, in a dark office, up a dark court in Fleet Street,’
which, in the next number of the magazine, “appeared
in all the glory of print; on which occasion,” he
afterwards wrote, “‘ By the by, how well I recollect it !
—I walked down to Westminster Hall, and turned
into it for half an hour, because my eyes were so
dimmed with joy and pride that they could not bear
the street, and were not fit to be seen there.”

After this entrance upon literature, a field upon
which he was afterwards to be so distinguished, he
projected a series of articles, entitled “Sketches by
Boz,” which were originally published in the “ Morn-
ing Chronicle,” under the title of “ Sketches of Eng-
lish Life and Character.”’ Afterwards, owing to their
popularity, they were reprinted, in two volumes, in
1886 and 1837, illustrated by the famous George
Cruikshank.

Subsequently, one of the celebrated firm of Chap-
man and Hall waited upon Dickens, then a young
man of some five or six and twenty, and made a pub-

lishing proposal to him. “The idea propounded to. .

me,” writes Dickens, “‘ was that the monthly some-
thing should be a vehicle for certain plates, to be
executed by Mr. Seymour; and there was a notion,
either on the part of that admirable humorous artist,
or of my visitor (I forget which), that a ‘ Nimrod Club,’
the members of which were to go out shooting, fishing,
and so forth, and getting themselves into difficulties
ORIGIN OF “¢ PICKWICK.” 45

through their want of dexterity, would be the best
means of introducing these. I objected, on considera-
tion that, although born and partly bred in the
country, I was no great sportsman, except in regard
to all kinds of locomotion ; that it would be infinitely
better for the plates to arise naturally out of the text;
that the idea was not novel, and had already been much
used ; that I should like to take my own way, with a
freer range of English scenes and people; and was
afraid I should ultimately do so in any case, whatever
course I might prescribe to myself when starting.
My views being deferred to, I thought of ‘ Mr. Pick-
wick,’ and wrote the first number, from the proof of
which Mr. Seymour made his drawing of the club,
and that happy portrait of the founder, by which he
is always recognised, and which may be said to have
made him a reality. I connected ‘Mr. Pickwick’ with
a club, because of the original suggestion; and I put
in ‘Mr. Winkle,’ expressly for the use of Mr. Seymour.
We started with a number of twenty-four pages in-
stead of thirty-two, and four illustrations in lieu of a
couple. Mr. Seymour’s lamented death, before the
second number was published, brought about a quick .
decision upon a point already in agitation : the number
became one of thirty-two pages, with two illustrations,
and remained so to the end. My friends told me it
was a low cheap form of publication (the book would
have cost, at the then established price of novels,
about four guineas and a half), by which I should
46 CHARLES DICKENS.

ruin all my rising hopes; and how right my friends
turned out to be, everybody knows.

“¢ Boz,’ my signature in the ‘ Morning Chronicle,’
appended to the monthly cover, and retained long
afterwards, was the nickname of a pet child, a
younger brother, whom I had dubbed <‘ Moses,’ in
honour of the ‘ Vicar of Wakefield, which being
facetiously pronounced through the nose, becomes
* Bozes,’ and, being shortened, became ‘ Boz.’ . ‘ Boz’
was a very familiar word with me long before I was
an author, and so I came to adopt it.”

The success of “ Pickwick” was so great, that “Sam
Weller ” and his immortal master figured in various
places, as well as in the pages of the magazine.’ En-
gravers, modellers, tobacconists, made ample use of
these worthies. We have to this day “ Pickwick
Cigars,” and “Sam Weller Blacking.””

During the progress of ‘ Pickwick,” Dickens mar-
ried Miss Catherine Hogarth, daughter of Mr.
Hogarth, the celebrated musical writer and critic. In
about ten months after the conclusion of the success-
ful novel, Mr. Dickens produced his ‘“ Nicholas

_ Nickleby.” In it the school system, reported to be
then practised in some parts of Yorkshire, received a
well-merited exposure. Mr. Dickens, writing sub-
sequently, says :

“IT cannot call to mind now how I came to hear
about Yorkshire schools, when I was not a very
robust child, sitting in by-places, near Rochester
i

THE ORIGINAL OF “JOHN BRODIE. 4?

Castle, with a head full of Partridge, Strap, Tom

_ Pipes, and Sancho Panza; but I know that my first

impressions of them were picked up at that time, and
that they were somehow or other connected with a
suppurated abscess that some boy came home with,
in consequence of his Yorkshire ‘ guide, philosopher,
and friend’ having ripped it open with an inky pen-
knife. The impression made upon me, however, never
left me. I was always curious about them till long
afterwards ; and at sundry times I got into the way
of hearing about them—at last, having an audience,
resolved to write about them.”

Before doing so, he visited Yorkshire, carrying
with him a letter of introduction to a person who
first gave Dickens the idea of his “‘ John Brodie.” The
letter represented the bearer as desirous of making
inquiries relative to the schools in the neighbourhood,
on behalf of a widow who was anxious to send her
little boy to one of them.

“JT am afraid he is dead now,” writes Dickens.
“T recollect he was a jovial, ruddy, broad-faced man ;
that we got acquainted directly; and that we talked
on all sorts of subjects, except the school, which he
showed a great anxiety to avoid. ‘Was there any
large school near?’ I asked, in reference to the letter.
‘Oh, yes,’ he said, ‘ there was, pratty by me.” ‘ Was
it a good one?? ‘Ey,’ he said, ‘it was as good as
another; that was a matter of opinion ;’ and fell to
looking at the fire flaring around the room, and
48 CHARLES DICKENS.

whistling a little.’ The “John Brodie” was in fact
impracticable ; and when the question of the school
came up, his face “fell,” and he became “ uncom-
fortable.”” At last, when about to go, he leant over
the table, and said to Mr, Dickens, in a low voice,
“ Weel, Misther, we’ve been very pleasant togather,
and [’ll speak my mind tiv’ee. Dinnot let the
weedur send her little boy to yun o’ our school
measters, while there’s a harse to hoold in a’ Lunnun,
and a gootther to lie asleep in! Ar wouldn’t mak’ ill
words amang my neeberrs, and ar speak tiv’ee quiet
loike. But I’m dom’d if ar can gang to bed and not
tellee, for weedur’s sak’, to keep the lattle boy from
a’ ‘sike scoondrels while there’s a harse to hoold in
a? Lunnun, or a gootther to lie asleep in.” Repeat-
ing these words with great heartiness, and with a
solemnity on his jolly face that made it look twice as
large as before, he shook hands and went away.

When “ Nicholas Nickleby” was finished—a labour
of love as much as a labour of profit—Dickens under-
took the editorship of “Bentley’s Miscellany,” in
which he published his story of “ Oliver Twist.” When
the tale was concluded, the conducting of the serial fell
into the hands of Mr. Harrison Ainsworth. Dickens
next devoted himself to ‘ Humphrey’s Clock,” in
which some of the most delightful of his creations
appeared.

In 1842 he determined upon a trip to America, in
the company of his wife. he jottings of the tour
THE ‘AMERICAN NOTES.”’ 49

were afterwards published as “ The American Notes,’’
which gave immense dissatisfaction to the Americans.
But in a new edition of the work, recently pub-
lished, the author says:—“It is nearly eight years
since this book was first published: I present it, in
this edition, unaltered ; and such of my opinions as
it expresses are quite unaltered too. Prejudiced I
have never been, otherwise than in favour with the
United States. No visitor can ever set foot on those
shores with a stronger faith in the republic than I did
when I landed in America. I purposely abstain from
extending the observations to any length. I have
nothing to defend or explain away. The truth is the
truth, and neither childish absurdities nor unscru-
pulous contradiction can make it otherwise. The
earth would still move round the sun, though the
whole Catholic Church said No. To represent me as
viewing America with ill-nature, animosity, or par-
tizanship, is merely to do a very foolish thing, which
is always a very easy one, and which I have disre-
garded for eight years, and could for eighty more.”
Some competent judges on this side of the Atlantic,
however, viewed the “ American Notes” very favour-
ably. Lord Jeffery, amongst others, wrote: “ My
dear Dickens, a thousand thanks for your charming
book, and for all the pleasure, profit, and relief it
has afforded me. You have been very tender to our
sensitive friends beyond sea, and really said nothing
which will give any serious offence to any moderately
B
50 * CHARLES. DICKENS.

rational patriot amongst them.. The slavers of course
will give you no quarter, and of course you did not
expect they would. Your account ot the silent or
solitary imprisonment system is as pathetic and as
powerful a piece of writing as I have ever seen; and
your sweet airy little snatch of the little woman
taking the new bale home to her young husband,
and your manly and feeling appeal in behalf of the
poor Irish, or rather the affectionate poor of all races
and tongues, who are patient, and tender to their
children, under ‘circumstances which would make half
the exemplary parents among the rich monsters of
selfishness and discontent, remind us that we have still
among us the creator of Nelly and Smike, and
the Schoolmaster and his dying pupil, and must
continue to win for you still more of homage of the
heart, that love and esteem of the just and the
good, which, though it should never be disjoined from
them, should, I think you must already feel, be better
than fortune or fame.” :

In 1848, the information obtained during the
American tour was turned to good account in the
new story of ‘Martin Chuzzlewit.” Some of
Dickens’s best and most original characters play im-
portant parts in this work. Pecksniff, the prince
of humbugs; dear trusting confiding Tom Pinch; the
scoundrel Jonas; the elegant Mr. Montague Tigg ;
the ‘nurse of all nurses—Sarah Gamp; with the
invisible Mrs. Harris; and Mark Tapley, always on
CHRISTMAS BOOKS. 51.

the look-out for unfavourable circumstances to come
out strong—figure in “ Martin Chuzzlewit.” On the
same year of its publication appeared the first of
the Christmas bocks—‘‘ The Christmas Carol,” and,
without exception, the best. There are thousands
of readers, when Christmas comes round, who read
that book again and again. Lord Jeffery said that
Dickens had “ not only fostered more kindly feel-
ings, but prompted more positive acts of benevolence,
by this little publication, than can be traced
to all the pulpits and confessionals since Christmas
1842.” At the ensuing Christmas appeared ‘‘ The
Chimes,” another very successful and fascinating
book. Next in order came “The Cricket on the
Hearth,” “The Battle of Life,” and the last of these
annuals—“ The Haunted Man.” More healthful or
delightful stories were never written.

In the year 1844 Mr. Dickens resided for about
a year in Italy; and in 1845 he originated “The
Daily News,” the first number of which appeared on
the 21st of January, 1846. It was first published
at twopence halfpenny, then raised to threepence,
and subsequently to the price of “The Times.” Not-
withstanding the great efforts made to establish the
paper, the best friends of. Mr. Dickens could not
blind themselves to the fact that his contributions
were not acceptable, and that therefore “The Daily
News” was a failure. Doubtless acting under good
advice, Dickens retired from the editorship with, it

E2
52 CHARLES DICKENS.

is understood, the loss of a considerable sum of
money, and certainly with no added reputation.
“The Pictures from Italy ” did little to win back the
somewhat alienated affection of his thousands of
readers. At the present time, so little impression did
it make when first published, it is not generally
known that he has written such a book.

But Charles Dickens has endeared himself to us by
many acts of kindly sympathy, as well as pleasant
recitals of generous deeds in his books. One of them,
not the least graceful, was his patronage of John
Overs, a working man, which resulted in the publica-
tion in July, 1844, of “The Evenings of a Working
Man, being the Occupation of his Scanty Leisure ; by
John Overs: with a Preface relative to the Author,
by Charles Dickens.” Prior to its publication, the
writer of the preface endeavoured to dissuade him
from entering upon the perilous path of authorship.
In reply, Dickens says, “‘ He wrote me as manly and
as straightforward, but withal as modest, a letter as
ever I read in my life. He explained to me how
limited his ambition was, soaring no higher than the
establishment of his wife in some light business, and
the better education of his children. He set before
me the difference of his evening and holiday studies,
such as they were, and his having no better resource
than an alchouse or a skittle-ground.” Of course
an appeal of that nature was all potent with Dickens.
John Overs contributed some articles to the maga-
SAMARITAN WORK. 53

zines, and then fell ill. The “ Evenings of a Work-
ing Man” was first published, with a preface by
Dickens, in which he wrote, in reference to the author :

“He is very ill—the faintest shadow of the man
who came into my little study, for the first time, half
a dozen years ago, after the correspondence I have
mentioned. He has been very ill for a long period;
his disease is a severe and wasting affection of the
lungs, which has incapacitated him these many
months for every kind of occupation. ‘If I could
only do a hard day’s work,’ he said to me the other
day, ‘how happy I should be.’

‘* Having these papers by him, amongst others, he
bethought himself that, if he could get a bookseller to
purchase them for publication in a volume, they would
enable him to make some temporary provision for his
sick wife and very young family. We talked the
matter over together, and that it might be easier of
accomplishment, I promised him that I would write
an introduction to his book.

“ IT would to Heaven I could do him better service !
I would to Heaven it were an introduction to a long
and vigorous and useful life! But Hope will not
trim her lamp the less brightly for him and his,
because of this impulse to their struggling fortunes ;
and trust me, reader, they deserve her light, and need
it sorely.”

John Overs has now gone to his long home. It is
only a few months since we first made acquaintance
54 CHARLES DICKENS.

with his unpretending little volume. Seeing it by
accident, we were surprised to find the name of
Charles Dickens on the title page, and on perusing
the preface, not more so then with the facts we
have already related. But the case of John Overs
is not solitary.
“ Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear ;

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.” :

Only the other day we were introduced to one
of the Manchester journeymen painters—to his
credit quite at the head of his trade—who, in addition
to wielding his brush with the ‘utmost proficiency,
can write, and does write, during his leisure hours,
articles that might find a fitting home in‘ the most

‘pretentious of our serials. A family necessitates his
rubbing on, rather than risk their comfort on the sea of
literature. And he is right.

But we must close our sketch of Dickens. After
the conclusion of ‘ Martin Chuzzlewit,’? a book
that will live as long as the name of its author,
* Dombey and Son” next appeared; and in 1850
was commenced ‘“ Household Words,”’ in which its
projector wrote, since published in two volumes, “A
Child’s History of England.” “Household Words”
has given way to another serial, “All the Year
Round,” in which Dickens wrote his last novel, “A
Tale of Two Cities,” full of pathos and incident.
TURNS PUBLIC READER. 55

In 1851 the Guild of Literature and Art was
projected. To raise the needed funds, Sir Bulwer
Lytton wrote a comedy, “ Not so Bad as we Seem,”
-which was performed before the Queen, the aristo-
cracy, and afterwards before various audiences in the
_ country, by celebrated literary amateurs. Dickens
surprised everybody by the vivacity and truthfulness
of his impersonations. Horace Greeley, the editor of
“The New York Tribune,” on witnessing one of
these performances, said “ Authorship has spoiled a
good actor.”

“Bleak House” and “ Little Dorrit,” two subse-
quent publications, although commercially all that
could be desired, have not added much to the fame
of their author.

About the commencement of 1858 Dickens entered
upon a new character—the public reader of his own
productions. And why should he not? In the first
place, it is no new thing. Blind old Homer recited
his own verses. And indeed authorship might marvel-
lously improve, if the public were to exact public
recitations from the authors of works presented for
public acceptance. These “Readings” have been
singularly successful in Dickens’s case. In London,
Dublin, Liverpool, and Manchester, everywhere
where they have been delivered, thousands of
delighted listeners have again and again realized the
potency of the creations of our “ own Charles.”

He has also won laurels as a public speaker. In
56 CHARLES DICKENS.

fact, he has a triple character—author, actor, and
orator. As the last, he is far above mediocrity. At
times, when the subject is one that appeals to human
sympathies, he becomes touchingly eloquent—his
fervid simple strain carrying conviction to the minds
and hearts of his hearers. Excellent as his addresses
are, he does not speak from impulse—what is called
the spur of the moment; he carefully prepares his
facts, and to some extent no doubt, his language
also, In this he might be imitated with advantage
by those who affect to be the leading orators of our
country,

On the foundation of the Guild of Literature and
Art the promoters held a festival at Birmingham, on
which occasion the friends of Dickens embraced. the
opportunity to present him with a testimonial. One
of the newspapers said :—

“Very soon after the hour fixed for the minor inci-
dent of the day—the presentation of a testimonial to
Mr. Dickens—the rooms of the Society of Artists
were crowded by as gay and distinguished an assem-
blage as ever met in Birmingham or any other pro-
vincial town. As name after name more or less
famous in the world of literature and art was
announced, the buzz of animated conversation ceased
for a few moments; and then, when such a galaxy as
Dickens, Sir Charles Eastlake, David Roberts, John
Forster, and Professor Cockerill, made their appear-
ance, scrutinizing glances in the direction of the door,
PRESENTED WITH A TESTIMONIAL. 57

and gager inquiries, showed the anxiety which was
felt regarding the personal identity of each celebrity,
It was not until nearly half-past five that the presen-
tation was made. A circle being then formed at the
upper end of the principal room (the Iliad salver and
the diamond ring being placed on a handsome papier
maché table in the centre), Mr. Councillor Brisband,
as chairman of the testimonial committee, briefly
stated the nature of the presentation about to be made,
and called upon Mr. G. L. Banks to read the follow-
ing address :—

“«<<¢To Cartes Dickens, Esa:

¢ Sir,—In requesting your acceptance of the ac-
companying ring and salver, it may be necessary for
your personal gratification, as. well as for the satisfac-
tion of those whose opinions are therein embodied, to
explain the reasons which have led to this open
expression of a feeling as sincere and deeply seated as
it is humbly and imperfectly conveyed. It has been
remarked that a regard for our national writers
enters into and forms part of the sacred emotions of
every educated man; and perhaps to this sentiment,
no less than to the high moral purpose by which your
works are distinguished, your Birmingham readers
may appeal for a sanction of this grateful acknow-
ledgment of your varied and well-applied talents. The
lightest work of fiction, if written with a pure aim,
tends to universal exaltation ; and this admitted, who
58 CHARLES DICKENS.

shall affect to speak slightingly of that genial mind,
and the mingled wit and wisdom exhibited in those
writings, which have secured for their author a fame
not confined to this kingdom, nor yet circumscribed
by the language of its people? It has been your aim
‘to hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature; to show
virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the
very age and body of the time his form and pressure.’
Seeking this end, you have striven to instruct the
social mind of the country, to establish a kindly
sympathy between all classes, to reconcile men to the
discipline of calamity and the harsh treatment of
fortune, and to maintain in its integrity that great
law of God which teaches us to feel that all mankind
are brothers. Hence, while unconsciously building
up for yourself a name among the world’s great, and
making that name “ familiar in our mouths as house-
hold words,” you have drawn towards you ‘the sym-
pathy of all loving hearts, and the esteem and admira-
tion of the English people. With these feelings we
ask you to honour us by accepting these two articles
of Birmingham manufacture ; adding a hope that the
day is not far distant when there shall be a national
value set upon such services as yours, when before
even the bright chivalry of birth there shall be a
public recognition of that higher order which is derived
from the sovereignty of genius, and whose letters-
patent are a grant from heaven.’

“Mr. Dickens then said ‘ Gentlemen, I feel it very
HIS MOTIVES AND ACTIONS. 59

difficult, I assure you, to tender my acknowledgments
to you, and through you to those many friends of
mine whom you represent, for the honour and dis-
tinction you have thus conferred upon me. I can
most honestly assure you that it is not in the power of
one great representative of numbers of people to
awaken such happiness in me as is inspired by this
token of goodwill and remembrance, coming to me
direct and fresh from the numbers themselves. (Hear,
hear.) I am truly sensible, gentlemen, that my
friends who have united in this address are partial in
their kindness, and regard what I have done with too
much favour; but I may say, with reference to one
class, some members of which I presume to be
included there, that I should be in my own eyes very
unworthy of their generous gift and generous feeling
—and this occasion, instead of pleasure, could give
me nothing but pain—if I were unable to assure
you and those in front of this assembly, that what the
working people have found me towards them in my
books, I am throughout my life. (Hear, hear.)
Gentlemen, whenever I have tried to hold up to
admiration their fortitude, patience, gentleness, the
reasonableness of their nature, their accessibility to
persuasion, and their extraordinary goodness one
towards another, I have done so because I have
first genuinely felt that admiration myself, and have
been thoroughly imbued with the sentiment which
I have sought to communicate to others. (Hear,
60 CHARLES DICKENS.

hear.) Gentlemen, I accept this salver and this ring, '
so far above all price to me, and so very valuable in
themselves, as beautiful specimens of the workman-
ship of this gréat town, with much emotion, I assure
you, and with the liveliest gratitude. You remember
something, I dare say, of the old romantic stories of
those charmed rings that would lose their brilliancy
when their wearer was in danger, or would press his
finger reproachfully when he was going to do wrong.
In the very improbable event of my being in the least
danger of deserting the principles which have won
me these tokens, I am quite sure that diamond (point-
ing to the presentation ring) would assume a clouded
aspect in my faithless eyes, and would squeeze a
throb of pain out of my treacherous heart; but I have
not the least misgiving on that point. And in this
confident expectation I intend to remove my own
old diamond ring to my left hand, and in future
wear my Birmingham jewel on my right, where its
pressure will keep me in mind of my good friends
here, and preserve a very vivid remembrance of this
very happy hour. (Hear, hear ) Gentlemen, in con-
clusion, allow me to thank you and the society to
whom these rooms belong, that this presentation has
taken place in an atmosphere so congenial, in an
apartment decorated with so many beautiful works of
art, amongst which I recognise the productions of
professional friends of mine whose labours and
triumphs will never be sunjects of indifference to me.
THE ILIAD SALVER. 61

I thank those gentlemen for the opportunity which
enables me to meet so many of those friends; and
though last, not least, that charming presence which
is here, without which nothing beautiful can be com-
plete, which is endearingly associated with rings of a
plainer description—(Jaughter)—and which, gentle-
men, I must confess, awakens in my mind at the
present moment a very strong feeling of regret that I
am not in a condition to offer those testimonials.
(Renewed laughter.) I beg you, gentlemen, to com-
mend me very earnestly and gratefully to our absent
friends, and to assure them of my affectionate and
heartfelt respect.’

“We may here state that the salver formed one of
the specimens of Birmingham art manufacture sent to
the Great Exhibition by Messrs. Elkington, Mason,
and Co. It is called ‘the Iliad Salver,’ because the
bas-reliefs in the several compartments are taken from
the immortal work of ‘the blind old bard of
Scio’s rocky isle.’ The centre represents Thetis sup-
plicating Jupiter to render the Greeks sensible of
the wrongs done to Achilles; and the subjects of
ten other compartments are the following :—Contest
between Agamemnon and Achilles; the heralds con-
ducting Briseis from the tent of Achilles; Thetis con-
soling Achilles; Achilles driving the Trojans from
the intrenchments by showing himself on the walls;
the Greeks driven beyond their fortifications ; Mene-
laus and Meriones, assisted by the Ajaxes, bearing
62 CHARLES DICKENS,

off the body of Patroclus to the ships; the grief of
Achilles over the body of Patroclus ; Thetis bringing to
Achilles the armour made by Vulcan; Achilles drag.
ging the body of Hector round the walls of Troy; and
Priam begging from Achilles the body of his son
Hector. It was designed by Charles Grant, and is
manufactured for publication by electro-deposition.
It is certainly as admirable a specimen of Birmingham
art as could have been selected.

“Tt bore the following inscription :—

“¢This salver, together with a diamond ring, was
presented to Charles Dickens, Esq., by a number of
his admirers in Birmingham, on the occasion of the
Literary and Artistic Banquet in that town, on the
6th of January, 1858 ; as a sincere testimony of their
appreciation of his varied literary acquirements, and
of the genial philosophy and high moral teaching
which characterise his writings.’

“The ring is, in its way, a no less creditable spe-
cimen of our manufactures. It was ‘ got up’ at the
establishment of Mr. Thomas Ashton , Jeweller, Regent
Place. It is very valuable, and is ‘a novel and appro-
priate design, the feather of a pen being introduced.”

That Dickens has genius, and genius of an extra-
ordinary kind, no one who has accompanied him in
his career, from dropping his first contribution to
literature in the editor’s box, in the dark court in
Fleet Street, to his present distinguished position,
_— ~~...

THE SECRET OÂ¥ HIS SUCCESS. ; 63

can for a moment doubt; but without industry,
without perseverance, his genius would have been

* undeveloped—the thoughts might have been in his

brain, but we should neither have derived amusement
nor instruction from them. Perhaps in all this broad
land of ours, during the last twenty years, no man
has worked harder than Charles Dickens. And it
will be a source of unfeigned satisfaction that during
all that time he has not written a line that, “ dying,
he would wish to blot.’ Long may he be spared to
‘delight us with the fruits of his imagination, and to
instruct and bless us with his wisdom and sympathy !
RICHARD COBDEN:

FARMER’S BOY, WAREHOUSEMAN, AUTHOR, ORATOR,
AND STATESMAN.

OnE more instance of a man not born to greatness,
but who, with the all-potent talisman of perseverance
and industry, has achieved it. The small borough of
Midhurst, in Sussex, has the honour of being his
birthplace. His father was a small farmer, not over
cumbered with riches, but honoured and respected by
his neighbours. At a very early age young Cobden
concluded that Midhurst was not the place in which
to “push his way in the world.” He was ambitious,
as every boy and every man ought to be, in a right
direction and with right motives; he determined,
therefore, to leave the place of his birth, with all its
interesting associations, and to direct his steps to the
great world of London. Here he obtained admission
into one of the warehouses in a subordinate capacity.
But what did that matter ?—getting in was the first
consideration ; to a boy of resolution and determina-
tion success was then certain. There is no more
miserable fallacy than for any boy to suppose that he
can be retained 1n a situation by favour only. Recom-



aii













Young Cobden entering a London warehouse to push his way in the world.

Ts Gs ee


—_—

_ STEADINESS AND INDUSTRY. 65

mendation, the wishes of friends, and the desire of
the master to serve those friends, are not things to

-be overlooked; but there is something beyond even

that—the interest and advantage of the master, which
the boy can further, and make his own. That is the

_ principle of action to render permanent any situation

—the foundation of friendships, and the source of
honour and reward. It is because young Cobden
possessed this principle of action that we are enabled
to record of him that, by “steadiness and industry,
he rose through successive grades, till he had gained
a thorough knowledge of the business, and stood high
in the esteem of his employers.” It is worth while
to let those words, “steadiness and industry,” ring
in the ear before we pass on. London, it is admitted,
is the very vortex of dissipation; a countless number
of youths, with fair promise and buoyant hopes, have
been wrecked within its maelstrom; but could we
record upon the tombstones of any of those boys,
“he was steady and industrious,” would not the
converse be more likely to be true: “he was disso-
lute and idle?” ‘We may be sure, then, that the
fascinating influences of London were not per-
mitted to have any powerful hold on young Cobden.

“He was steady.” His employers were under no

apprehension that his evenings would be so spent

that in the morning he would be totally unfit to

perform his allotted duties. Could they have followed

him to his lodgings when the warehouse closed,
F
66 RICHARD COBDEN.

they would doubtless have seen him for one or two
hours before he retired to rest, storing his mind with
the contents of some solid useful book; or, probably,
in the company of a congenial companion, giving and
receiving that pleasure and improvement which is
always the result of wise and earnest conversation.
‘We learn thus much from a speech delivered by
Cobden when he had become famous. Upon the
occasion of one of the Manchester Atheneum Soirées,
in 1847, he said: “ When I was a youth in London,
starting in business, the whole metropolis did not
furnish such an institution as that which the Athe-
nzeum gives to youin Manchester. We had no means
of meeting young men of kindred tastes, no means
of pursuing studies, or of hearing lectures ; we were
confined to our own firesides ; we had no stimulus, no
competition among young men of our own rank and
standing, such as you have in Manchester.” At the
same meeting he said: “Oh! if I had my time
over again, and was placed in the situation in which
many of the young men here present are placed, I
would not arrive at the age of five-and-twenty without
being a perfect master of the French, German, and
Italian languages.” There is no doubt, circumstanced
as he was, he succeeded in mastering the French after
his daily labour, so that recently he has been enabled
to translate from that language a valuable work on
the influence of gold. In confirmation of the value
he attached to his quiet studious evenings, at the
RESULTS OF HIS EXPERIENCE. 67

same meeting hesaid: “I have had many changes,
I have seen many phases of society, probably as
many as most. I do not say this egotistically, because
I am merely now going to elucidate a thought. I
have seen many phases of society, I have had many
excited means of occupation, and of gratification;
but I tell you honestly and conscientiously, that if I
want to look back to that which has given me the
purest satisfaction of mind, it is in those pursuits
whichare accessible to every member of the Athenzeum.
I have not found the greatest enjoyment in the excit-
ing plaudits of a public meeting; I have not found
the greatest pleasure or interest in intercourse, some-
times with men of elevated sphere abroad, where
others would think probably that you were privileged
to meet such men; I come back to you conscien-
tiously to declare that the purest pleasures I have
ever known are those accessible to you all; it is in
the calm intercourse with intelligent minds, and in
communion with the departed great, through our
books, by our own firesides.” Richard Cobden was
not then giving a vague and ill-defined precept; he
was calling upon his own experience, commenced long
ago in his young warehouseman’s days—not spent
solitary, for had he not the thoughts of the wise and
the good to amuse and instruct him ?

We have thus learned how Cobden spent his days
and evenings when he was acquiring a knowledge of

his business. Now let us glance at the result. After
F2
68 RICHARD COBDEN,

obtaining the respect and esteem of his London
employers, and of all those with whom he had any
trade intercourse, he removed to Manchester, and
became the travelling agent of a house largely
engaged in the cotton trade; here, by his intelligence,
industry, and sound judgment, he soon proved him-
self an invaluable servant. Commercial travellers
who have been on the road a few years, are delighted
to recount the pleasant evenings spent in the com-
mercial-room in the company of Richard Cobden.
Somehow, apparently without design, the conversa-
tion was certain to take a practical turn, in which the
future M.P. was sure to take the lead; enriching his
observations with the most apt and felicitous illus-
trations. The remarks of Dr. Bowring, in reference
to a speech of Cobden’s upon another occasion, might
appropriately be cited in illustration of these com-
mercial-room discussions, ‘I listened,” said the Doc-
tor, to our friend, our missionary, who-has lately re-
turned from the most exalted of missions—“I
listened to the voice never to me so harmonious
as when again returning to us, with his calm, quiet,
impressive English sense, bringing back from the
whole field of observation valuable treasures, and
communicating them in language intelligible to all,
most interesting, and most practical.’ Such was
Richard Cobden in the commercial-room.

But he was not satisfied with the limited opportu-
nities presented for observation in his home journeys
—he was desirous to acquaint himself with the
COBDEN’S PRINTS. 69

manners and customs of other countries. Happily,
circumstances permitted his combining business with
pleasure, so that he was enabled to visit America and
a great part of Europe; and then, as we should
expect a man of his prudence and forethought would
do, soon put himself into a position to commence busi-
ness on his own account. His first venture was with
Messrs. Sherreff and Foster, at Sabden, near Black-
burn, in Lancashire, with whom he entered into
partnership ; and subsequently we find him connected
with his elder brother as a calico printer, at Chorley,
in Lancashire. In his new position he was highly
successful. The reason was mainly owing to his
devotion to his business, and the attention with which
he studied the public taste. -One circumstance will
illustrate his tact—so essential a part of a successful
career. In 1837 a gentleman visited Mr. Cobden’s
warehouse in Manchester, where he was shown some
printed muslins of a peculiarly beautiful pattern, which
‘were just about to be introduced to the market. A
few days afterwards the same gentleman was walking
in the vicinity of Goodwood, when he met some
ladies of the family of the Duke of Richmond wear-
ing the identical prints; and shortly afterwards, to
his unbounded astonishment, he saw the young
Queen going down the slopes of Windsor Park in a
dress of the same material and pattern. ‘ Cobden’s
prints,” as a matter of course, at once became the
fashion.

But Cobden was not so sordid as to allow mere
70 RICHARD COBDEN.

money-making to engross all his time and attention ;
it was sufficient to give his entire thoughts to his
business during business hours. But there were still
the evenings—turned to such excellent account long
ago in London: why not now devote them to national
improvement, as they were then devoted to personal
improvement? We learn his efforts in this direc-
tion from Mr. Archibald Prentice, then editor and
proprietor of the “ Manchester Times.” “ In 1835,”
he writes, “there had been sent to me, for publication
in my paper, some admirably written letters. They
contained no internal evidence to guide me in guess-
ing as to who might be the writer, and I concluded
that there was some new man amongst us, who, if he
held a station that would enable him to take a part in
public affairs, would exert a widely beneficial influ-
ence amongst us. He might be some young man in a
warehouse, who had thought deeply on political
economy and its application to our commercial
policy, who might not be soon in a position to come
before the public as an influential teacher ; but we had,
I had no doubt, somewhere amongst us—perhaps
sitting solitary after his day’s work in some obscure
apartment, like Adam Smith in his quiet closet at
Kirkaldy—one, inwardly and quietly conscious
of his power, but patiently biding his time, to
popularize the doctrines sent forth in the ‘ Wealth
of Nations,’ and to make the multitude think,
as the philosopher had thought, and to act upon
their convictions. I told many that a new man
WHO IS HE, AND WHAT 18 HE? 71

had come, and the question was often put amongst
my friends, ‘Who is he?’ It is some satisfaction
to me now, writing seventeen years after that
period, that I had anticipated the deliberate verdict
of the nation. In the course of that year, a pamphlet,
published by Ridgway, under the title ‘England,
Treland, and America, was put into my hand by a
friend, inscribed ‘from the author,’ and I instantly
recognised the handwriting of my unknown, much
by me desired to be known, correspondent; and I
was greatly gratified when I learned that Mr. Cobden,
the author of the pamphlet, desired to meet me at my
friend’s house. I went with something of the same
kind of feelings which I had experienced when I first,
four years before, went to visit Jeremy Bentham, the
father of the practical free-traders; nor was I dis-
appointed, except in one respect. I found a man
who could enlighten by his knowledge, counsel by
his prudence, and conciliate by his temper and
manners, and who, if he found his way into the
House of Commons, would secure its respectful atten-
tion; but I had been an actor amongst men who,
from 1812 to 1832, had fought in the rough battle for
parliamentary reform, and I missed, in the unassum-
ing gentleman before me, not the energy, but the
apparent hardihood and dash which I had, forgetting
the change of times, believed to be requisite to the
success of a popular leader. In after-years, and after
having attained great platform popularity, he had
72 RICHARD COBDEN,

been elected a member of Parliament, and when men
sneered, and said he would soon find his level there,
as other mob orators had done, I ventured to say that
he would be in his proper vocation there, and that
his level would be amongst the first men in the
House.”

How completely that prophecy of the editor of
the “ Manchester Times” has been fulfilled, every
boy who occasionally reads a newspaper already
knows.

The pamphlet entitled “ England, Ireland, and
America” was reprinted in a cheap form, and circu-
Jated in tens of thousands. A subsequent pamphlet,
* Russophobia,” was also largely distributed, which
contained the principles of Cobden’s political life.
These brochures, when first published, were intended
merely to serve the purposes of the time; they have
become, however, from their singular merit, text books
frequently cited by members of Parliament, and which
no doubt will be thoughtfully studied by the political
economist for centuries to come. We may form some
idea of the thoroughness with which these pamphlets
were written, when we learn that, before writing the
one on Russia, Cobden made a tour to the East ex-
pressly to gain information on that subject.

In Manchester and the surrounding districts, from
this period, Cobden became an established public man.
He was looked upon as an authority in all matters of
trade and business. His painstaking practical sense

ss
ELECTED AN ALDERMAN. 73

rendered his observations upon commerce singularly
valuable, as they were proved to be reliable. Amongst
other useful works in which he entered with zest, was
the formation of the Manchester Athenzeum, and the
incorporation of the town, one of the first members
of the town council being “‘ Mr. Alderman Cobden ;”
at the same time he became a member of the Man-
chester Chamber of Commerce.

In the year 1838 was commenced that agitation
on the corn-laws, which brought Cobden’s name into
world-wide celebrity. In the summer of that year
there was a deficient harvest, which was the imme-
diate occasion of forming in Manchester an Anti-
Corn-law Association. At a public meeting subse-
quently held, in which Cobden took an important
part, £3000 was subscribed to aid the Association.
At a public meeting of deputies from all parts of the
kingdom a deputation was sent to London, praying
that the House of Commons would hear evidence on
the injurious effects of the corn-laws. The prayer of
the deputies was refused. It was then proposed, on
the motion of Cobden, that the “ National Anti-

_Corn-law League” should he formed. This Associa-
tion entered so vigorously upon its work, that, before
the close of the year 1839, upwardsof one hundred im-
portant towns had formed kindred Associations; and
then, in the next year, 1840, was commenced the first
of those huge meetings which were afterwards the
scene of so many of Cobden’s oratorical triumphs.
74 RICHARD COBDEN.

At this meeting, held in a temporary pavilion on the
site of the present handsome Free Trade Hall in
Manchester, and at which, could accommodation have
been afforded, ten thousand persons would have been
present, Cobden made a ten minutes’ speech! This
is conclusive evidence of his extreme modesty, and
that he certainly had not calculated upon being the
leader of the movement, or the foremost of the fore-
most men by which he was then surrounded. From
this time until 1841 he attended meetings in all parts
of the kingdom, where he carried conviction to the
minds of thousands by the simple iteration of known
facts, and their consequent logical conclusions, And
then, in 1847, the constituency of Stockport returned
him to the Commons House of Parliament as their re-
presentative. It wassaid that he would there find his
level ; that he might successfully address a large meet-
ing of his friends and supporters ; but that it would be
a different thing when the audience was mainly com-
posed of the aristocracy of England. It was not then
thought that the speeches of Cobden in Parliament,
instead of being answered and silenced, would be the
means of converting to his views the Premier of Eng-
land—the great Sir Robert Peel.

On the 25th of August, 1841, Richard Cobden rose
in his place in Parliament to make his first speech.
The subject was the address to the throne. He said
he intended to support the address because it ex-
pressed hostility to the taxes on food. He told the
‘SIR ROBERT PEEL AND COBDEN. 75

House further, that a conference of the ministers of
religion, 650 in number, of all denominations, had
just been held in Manchester; that they had agreed
to pray every Sunday from their pulpits that God
would turn the hearts of the rulers of England to do
justice. Some of the honourable members laughed
at this statement; some were amused; others were
offended at the unusual style of speech of the newly
elected member; efforts were made to put him down,
which were completely unsuccessful. From that
night he obtained a position in the House, which he
has since always retained. Though never a com-
manding parliamentary orator of the highest class,
he has enjoyed from first to last the “ear of the
House.”

From that time, in “ the House” and out of “ the
House,’? Cobden’s business was to obtain the total and
immediate repeal of the corn-laws. For this purpose
he traversed the country, delivering lectures and hold-
ing meetings wherever men could be got together to
listen to his arguments ; seldom, it was observed, did
they depart without becoming converts to his views.
On the 2nd of July, 1846, the Act repealing the
corn-laws received the Royal Assent. Before that
consummation of Cobén’s desires, Sir Robert Peel,
who lost office in consequence of relinquishing pro-
hibitive duties on corn, made in his place in Parlia-
ment a graceful reference to the services of Cobden.
He said :—
76 RICHARD COBDEN.

“T must say, with reference to hon. gentlemen
opposite, as I say with reference to ourselves, neither
of us is the party which is justly entitled to the credit
of those measures. There has been a combination of
parties, and that combination, and the influence of
Government, have led to their ultimate success ; but
the name which ought to be, and will be associated
with the success of those measures, is the name of
the man who, acting, I believe, from pure and dis-
interested motives, has with untiring energy, by
appeals to reason, enforced their necessity with an
eloquence the more to be admired because it was
unaffected and unadorned. The name which ought
to be associated with the success of those measures,
is the name of Ricuarp CospEn.”

The work of the Anti-Corn-Law League being
done, it was dissolved. At the meeting called for its
dissolution, in Manchester, Mr. Cobden was requested
by the chairman, Mr. George Wilson, to address the
assembly. When he rose he was received with
tumultuous cheers, the assembly rising as one man.
When he could obtain a hearing, he warmly eulogised
his co-workers in the League, delicately alluding
to his own labours, in spite of the loud cries of
“No,” that far too much importance had been
ascribed to the share which he had taken in the
great struggle. The next day a modest letter
appeared from him in the newspapers, thanking his |
constituents at Stockport for their confidence, and
TAKING A HOLIDAY. 77

intimating his intention of a temporary withdrawal
from public life. As a recognition of his great
services £70,000 was speedily collected and presented
to him: a substantial, but a well-earned testimonial
for the withdrawal of his time and attention from his
own commercial transactions, and their unselfish
devotion to the prosperity of his country.

Then it was that Cobden considered himself
entitled to a holiday—taking an extensive continental
tour. Numerous ovations, however, from the ad-
mirers of Free-trade abroad, accompanied his pro-
gress. Everywhere he was received with marked
respect. Public entertainments were given him in
Geneva, Paris, and other continental cities; while at

_home the greatest constituency in England, the West
Riding of Yorkshire, elected him, in common with
his constituents at Stockport, as their representative.
When he returned from his tour, in 1847, he decided
to take his farewell of his Stockport friends and sit
for the West Riding.

True to his commercial tendencies, when the
* Exhibition of All Nations” was opened in London,
in 1851, he appeared as one of the royal commis-
sioners ; believing that a wise rivalry of productions
would materially tend to the peace and solidity of the
nations. Aud then, also, he attended the various
Peace Congresses, held both abroad and at home, in
which he enforced with his usual lucidity the mad-
ness of war and the benefits of peace. The platform,
78 RICHARD COBDEN.

however, was not the only medium by which he
sought to develop his thoughts. On the conclusion
of the Russian war, to which he had been strenuously
opposed, he published a pamphlet entitled “ What
Next? and Next?” This brochure had been preceded
by pamphlets on “ How Wars are got up in India; ”
and “ 1793 and 1853.”

We have now arrived at an incident in Cobden’s
career, sufficiently humiliating in one sense, and all-
instructive in another. We have seen the honours
heaped upon himat home and abroad. Without personal
canvas or appeal, two constituencies, one the largest
and most important in England, had in his absence re-
turned him as their representative to the HouseofCom-
mons. Now the time had come when he was to be
refused a seat—to find himself in the election of 1857
amongst the unsuccessful and rejected candidates. It
was intheJanuary of 1855 that he had convened agreat
meeting at Leeds, to address the constituency on the
subject of the war. Upon that occasion his supporters
met him in the most friendly manner, expressed their
confidence in his public character, but at the same
time protested against his views, by passing a resolu-
tion demanding the vigorous prosecution of the war.
Undaunted by this adverse motion, however, and true
to the principles of his whole life, on the 3rd of
March, 1857, in connection with Mr. Gibson, he
brought forward a motion condemnatory of Sir John
Bowring’s proceedings at Canton, and therefore of
REFUSED A SEAT IN THE HOUSE. 79

the China war. The resolution being affirmed by
the House, led to the dissolution of Parliament.
Previously, Cobden had determined to retire from
the representation of the West Riding, as taxing too
severely his time and energies; he was desirous to
represent some smaller constituency, whose parliamen-
tary wants were fewer. He first made an overture
to the electors of Salford, but not meeting with that
encouragement which would warrant his proceeding,
he left the field to a member of the Palmerstonian
Government. He next presented himself before the
electors of Huddersfield, but on the polling day a
local man was preferred to the great Free-trader, who
had converted prime ministers, and cabinets, and
Parliaments to his views. Cobden was in a decided
minority.

From that time until 1858, he lived in comparative
retirement at Midhurst, near the place of his birth.
What sort of a place the great leaguer had selected
for his retirement, and how he was estimated by the
people amongst whom he lived, we are amusingly in-
formed by the editor of the “‘ West Sussex Gazette.”

“On our visit to Midhurst two years ago,” he
writes, “we were surprised to find how little Mr.
Cobden was thought of by his neighbours, in compa-
rison with the world-wide fame he enjoys. We
imagined that the name of Cobden at Midhurst would
have been like the name of Shakspere at Stratford.
But we made no allowance for the conservative pre-
80 RICHARD COBDEN,

judices of the place. The brilliancy of the great
man seems to be obscured in the little ‘cold shades’
which surround him. ‘Can you tell me where Mr,
Cobden lives?’ we inquired of a passer-by. ‘ Mr.
Cobden, sir? He lives at about two miles away—at
Dunford.’ ‘Two miles away! why, I thought he
lived at Midhurst. Do you know if he is at home?’
was our interrogation. ‘ Which Mr. Cobden do
you mean, sir?’ Here was a pretty question to
ask—‘ Which Mr. Cobden ?’?—as if Cobdens were as
plentiful as blackberries. We told him which it
was, and he didn’t know whether he was at home or
not, and he seemed very much as if he didn’t care
either. But it might be urged in extenuation of our
informant’s ignorance, that there is a ‘Cobden’ in
West Sussex, who has gained a very considerable
reputation as a cock-fighter, and who figured some-
what conspicuously before the Shrewsbury magistrates
a little time ago. This man is perhaps better known
to the West Sussex people generally than Richard
Cobden is; and we believe that if a stranger were to
incidentally ask the first person he met in West
Sussex where ‘Cobden’ lived, the reply would be,
‘He keeps Ha’naker public-house.’? So much for
reputation.

“Passing along the highway in the direction of
Chichester, we came to a turning where there was a
decayed finger-post, a few geese, and a cottage. This
was the direction pointed out to us, Stumping away
“ MUSTER COBDEN’S” HOME, 81

along a dusty high road, with a hill on one side, and
trees on the other, we made for a church, as the only
piece of architecture visible. A rustic youth was
coming along, with some harness thrown over his
shoulder—evidently a ploughboy by calling. This
was fortunate, as we could see nothing like the house
which we wanted. ‘Holloa, my lad, just tell us
which is Mr. Cobden’s house.’ ‘Hay?’ was the
reply. ‘Mr. Cobden’s!’ we repeated. ‘Dun noa,
T’se sure, where ’tis.? We looked scornfully at the
rustic, and he passed on, peering very suspiciously
over his left shoulder, as if he were afraid of being
eaten up. Luckily we came to a turnpike or occupa-
tion gate, and a cottage. Our inquiries were here a
little more successful. ‘ Muster Cobden, he lives
that way; you be come wrong. Goo back to the
stile, and walk on the footpath over the hill till ye
comes to the white gate; and then turn to yer left
hand, and goo down over a bridge, and you’ll see a
’ white house, and that’s it.’ The stile was come to,
and we proceeded to the footpath over a hill which
was covered with furze, with a thick wood on the left.
We then came to the white gate leading into a field
with a remarkable small crop of wheat growing, and
which seemed to be eaten up by game; nota soul was
visible, and except for a startled rabbit or a thrush we
might have felt alone ; an old lane here seemed to be
overflowing with springs and grown over with trees,
being altogether impassable. Following a rarely-

G
82 RICHARD COBDEN.

trodden footpath we descended a hill, and after some
difficulty, mixed up with not a little alarm, fearing
that we should get lost, like a ‘ child in the wood,’
we espied chimneys peeping out amongst the trees ;-
these we found to belong to a nicely-built white
mansion in the Italian style. This was ‘ Muster.
Cobden’s’, residence, situated as if it were in a basin
—with a hill in front, a hill behind, and a hill by its
side. No human habitation, as far as we could see,
was anywhere near. To find the great politician,
whose fame was.chorussed by millions in every
quarter of the globe—whose speeches have been
translated into all languages—in such an out-of-the-
way spot, struck us as extremely droll. We were
half disposed to believe that we had found the wrong
house and the wrong ‘Cobden,’ and that we were
altogether mistaken; but half-an-hour’s political
conversation with this excellent orator, during which
time we were ‘ checkmated’ in every remark that
we uttered—perhaps one in every two minutes—soon
convinced us into whose hands we had fallen.”

In 1858, Cobden once more crossed the Atlantic.
In America he received. from’ public personages, as
well as from private citizens, the most flattering
courtesy. The railway officials refused the ordinary
fares when tendered by “Cobden.” To do him
honour, fétes, soirées, and public meetings would have
been convened in every town he visited, could his
consent have been obtained. He was not anxious,
MR. GLADSTONE’S COMMENDATION. 83

however, to be lauded and féted when there was no
practical object in view. And then, on his return,
when the steamer had entered the Mersey, and before
his foot had touched the shore, he was met with the
news that he had been elected in his absence a
member of Parliament for the borough of Rochdale,
and, strange as it may seem, a place reserved for him
in the cabinet! This was a glorious return for his
non-acceptance by Salford, and for his rejection by
Huddersfield. Ata large and enthusiastic meeting
of -his constituents, he stated his reasons why he
objected to take office—he could, he thought, best
serve them, and the interest of his country, by
remaining an independent member of the House of
Commons. How wisely he then determined, the
sequel has shown. Scarcely a twelvemonth had
passed since his election for Rochdale, before he had
obtained from the Emperor of the French his consent
to a new tariff; the importance of which, in its
bearings upon the prosperity and peace of the two
countries, cannot be estimated. When the Right
Hon. Mr. Gladstone submitted the tariff to the con-
sideration of the House of Commons—to the fullest
Housethat had been known for aquarter of a century —
he said: ‘‘ With regard to Mr. Cobden, speaking as
I do, at a time when every angry passion has passed
away, I cannot help expressing our obligations to
him for the labour he has, at no small personal
sacrifice, bestowed upon a measure which he, not the
G 2
84 RICHARD COBDEN.

least among the apostles of free trade, believes to be
one of the greatest triumphs free-trade has ever
achieved. It is a great privilege for any man who,
having fifteen years ago rendered to his country one
important and signal service, now enjoys the singular
good fortune of having had it in his power—undeco-
rated, bearing no rank or title from his sovereign, or
from the people—to perform another signal service in
the same cause for the benefit of, I hope, a not un-
grateful country.”

To mark this sense of his worth, and the esti-
mation in which they held his services, a few of
his personal friends, while the treaty was under dis-
cussion, contributed £40,000 to present to him.
The list was headed with £5000: the smallest sum
contributed was £500. But we may well believe,
necessary and valuable as money is, that Cobden’s
energies have never been taxed with the hope of
monetary reward. He would have obtained this by
accepting office. He would, no doubt, have rea-
lized an immense fortune had he continued his de-.
votion to trade. What, then, has been his motive—
the rule of his life? Surely the reader of the pre-
ceding imperfect sketch will have no difficulty in
answering that the object—the guiding star of
Cobden’s public life, has ever and only been—use-
fulness. Singularly simple in his habits, being, as
he has said himself, “the most temperate man in
the world,” his wants are few. He has no vices,.
THE OBJECT OF HIS LIFE. 85

no selfish personal ambitions. His end and aim is
the good of his country, for which he has worked
untiringly, as he has worked unceasingly. Men of the
future will point to the nineteenth century as
furnishing a remarkable instance of a good citizen,
and a devoted patriot ; that cited instance will be the
life and career of Ricuarp Cospen.
86

CHARLES BIANCONI:

WANDERING ITALIAN BOY, THE GREAT IRISH COACH
PROPRIETOR, AND MAYOR OF CLONMEL.



A Frew years ago the traveller in Ireland would be
surprised to find that the only means he had of tra-
versing the country was by the aid of the cars and
coaches belonging to one Charles Bianconi. It was
only a matter of surprise, not a matter of regret, as
the vehicles were numerous, well appointed, and the
fares low. At the time of which we write, “ Bian-
coni’s cars” consisted of one hundred two and four
wheeled vehicles, drawn by two, three, and four
horses, carrying from four to twenty persons each,
travelling eight or nine miles an hour, at an average
of one penny farthing per mile for each passenger,
and performing daily 3800 miles! And pray, asks
the reader, who is Charles Bianconi—owner of more
than two thousand horses, one hundred vehicles,
harness, stabling, coach- houses, offices, and the master
of hundreds of men in every part of Ireland ?

If the reader will, in imagination, visit Ireland with
us in the January of 1803, he can have the pleasure
of an introduction to Bianconi. After a stormy
A SCENE AT EARLY MORN. 87

passage, then, across the Channel, we get comfortable
quarters in Dublin; but, as we are to see the great
man very early in the morning, we seek our chamber
betimes. We have scarcely turned in, as we think,
before a most unpleasant knock is heard at the door,
and “boots”? shouting, ‘“ Past four, sir—hot water,
sir.” No good grumbling, so turn out in the cold,
damp, uncomfortable morning, well wrapped in great-
coats and mufflers. The streets of Dublin are deserted,
Trinity College is a mass of stone in amist ; the Four
Courts are all silent from the wranglings of angry
plaintiff or defendant; the busy bustling carman is
quietly sleeping in the one, to him, sacred spot, home.
We pass up Sackville Street, leave the Rotunda, and
shortly find ourselves in the open country. Here we
must wait. Presently there comes along a poor
wandering Italian boy carrying a wooden tray, filled
with little pictures in rude leaden frames. The sharp
blasts seem to have no mercy upon the thinly-clad
limbs of the wayfarer. Do not detain him, or his
blood will congeal with the cold; and then, he has
hundreds of cabins and cottages to visit ere he
returns. It will take him six days to sell his stock,
valued at forty shillings. And now, reader, what do
you think of Charles Bianconi? for in that poor
wandering Italian you have seen the start of the
present great car and horse proprietor, the Mayor of
Clonmel, and the universally respected man and
citizen !
88 CHARLES BIANCONI.

Charles Bianconi was born on the 26th of Sep-
tember, 1780, at Tregolo, a village in the Duchy of
Milan, When very young he was put under the care
of his grandmother, at Caglio, of which place his
mother’s brother, Dr. Mazza, was the provost. The
doctor’s house was the resort of all the learned and
literary people of the place. The Bianconi family
included persons of note as well as the provost
of Caglio. Charles was sent to the school of the
Abbé Raddaivoli, who had a reputation as a teacher.
Young Bianconi did not, however, add to the fame of
his master, as he acquired a reputation on his own
account—that of being the greatest dunce and boldest
boy in the school. His abilities were of the practical
kind; he had not much sympathy for mere theory.
When he had attained his fifteenth year, owing to the
persecution that several Italian families were subject
to, his father arranged with a person of the name of
Andrea Faroni to take Charles with him to England.
He was to be instructed in selling prints, barometers,
and Jlooking-glasses; and upon trial, if he did not
like the business, he was to be handed over to Mr.
Colnaghi of London. Money was given to Faroni to
defray the boy’s expenses for eighteen months.

Prior to his leaving his father-land Charles visited
his mother. She was so much distressed with the
thought of his leaving her, that when she saw him she
fainted. Her last words have never been forgotten.
“ Whenever you think of me,” she said, “ and are at
STARTS IN BUSINESS. 89

a loss to know what I am doing, I shall be at that
window from which I shall soon witness your de-
parture, watching for your return.”

Faroni, instead of going to England, went direct to -
‘Ireland, where he arrived in the year 1802. Here he
commenced his trade of picture-selling. His plan was
to send his boys with a stock of pictures to the country
every Monday morning, which they were expected
to sell before they returned on the Saturday night.
We have seen Charles starting on one of these expe-
ditions. As he became faimiliar with the country
his journeys were extended to Wexford and Waterford.
During these early rambles he met with many strange
adventures, and mademany friends, who have remained
much attached to him to the present time. On one
occasion a very ignorant magistrate had him arrested
because he was selling portraits of Napoleon. He
was confined in a cold guard-room all night ; in the
morning he was found not to harbour any treasonable
designs, and was therefore allowed to depart.

At the end of the stipulated period, Faroni was
ready to take Bianconi back to Italy, in accordance
with the agreement made by his father. Charles
thought it better to decline the offer. He thought
Ireland presented facilities for pushing his fortunes,
and determined to stay. With a small sum unex-
pended by Faroni he was left to make the best of
his new independent position. His first venture was
as a print-seller at Carrick-on-Suir, in 1806, and
90 CHARLES BIANCONI.

then in 1808 he removed to Waterford; but this
town not answering his expectations, he removed to
Clonmel, where he opened as a carver and gilder.
And now he made use of the experience gathered
during his many journeys. He had reflected on the
great inconvenience experienced by the country people,
owing to the want of facilities for passing from one
town to another. He saw that not only would a con-
veyance speculation pay, but would at the same time
be of the utmost. use to the public. In 1815 he
started a car, drawn by one horse, between Clonmel
and Cahir. This experiment being eminently suc-
cessful, before the end of the year he had cars running
to Clonmel, Cashel, Thurles, Carrick, and Waterford.
Fortunately for him, the peace enabled him to pur-
chase horses at a low price, which had been intended
for the army. _ So industrious and persevering was
he in prosecuting his designs, that in the year 1843
the. whole of the south and west, and a great portion
of the north of Ireland, were traversed by ‘‘ Bian-
coni’s cars.”, But no car was permitted to run on
the Sunday, except to carry the mail-bags; and this,
it is pleasant to know, even in an economical point of
view, was beneficial. “I can work a horse,” said
Bianconi, “ eight miles per day, six days in the week,
much better than I can six miles for seven days.”
When the railways were introduced into Ireland,
Mr. Bianconi was less affected than was expected.
All that the steam-engine did for him was to drive
ELECTED MAYOR OF CLONMEL. 91

him to new districts and fresh fields, where there
were no railroads. The advantages of these con-
veyances to the small farmers and trading classes can
scarcely be computed. And, indeed, all classes of
the inhabitants—the wildest, during the most dis-
turbed times—have always respected the property of
Mr. Bianconi. “My conveyances,” said he, “many
of them carrying very important mails, have been
travelling during all hours of the day and night, often
in lonely and unfrequented places; and during the
long period of forty-two years that my establishment
has been in existence, the slightest injury has never
been done by the people to my property, or that
intrusted to my care.” He has not only thus been
enabled to serve the people amongst whom he has
elected to live, but by his laudable and useful labours
has amassed a large fortune. His success has not
spoiled his natural good disposition ; he made friends
in his early days, and makes and keeps them in his
old age. It is not too much to say, that there is not
in Ireland a man more universally respected than
Charles Bianconi. In 1831 he obtained letters of
naturalization, when he was subsequently elected the
Mayor of Clonmel.

There is no nonsense or upstartism about him.
He remembers the position he first occupied when
he originally landed in Ireland. He preserves the
wooden tray upon which he vended his little pictures
so many years ago, and is in the habit of showing it
92 CHARLES BIANCONI.

to any youths who may visit him. He has been

most useful in his day and generation to the people
among whom he lives, and has grown rich. Would

this have been the case unless-he had been singularly
industrious and persevering? Without these quali-
ties, Bianconi might have gone back to Italy, or sold
his little pictures—the world would never have hear
of him.






























































































studying.

George Cruikshank in the Royal Academy,
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK:
THE FAMOUS CARICATURIST.

To talk of the time when George Cruikshank was not,
seems talking of another age. Who can remember
the time when that strange spider-fashioned name
did not appear at the foot of plates to illustrate comic
annuals, or on caricatures in the print-sellers’ windows?
George was born in the year 1794, and is therefore,
at the time we write, sixty-six years of age. And
during those sixty-six years, no man has been more
respected, has worked harder, or has, in his way,
rendered his country better service. Singular to say,
George inherited from his father the peculiar vein for
which he has become so celebrated. His father was
himself a painter, and an etcher of caricatures—a
faculty of which the son has made abundant use.
This design was frustrated by the death of his father
—he could not then leave his mother and sister in
their sorrow, and yet it was needful that he should
do something to find them and himself with the
necessaries of life. Ruminating upon the chances of
various employments, his thoughts turned to the
- stage, owing, probably, to his tolerably successful
94 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

appearance at the Haymarket Theatre, upon the
occasion of a benefit taken by his friend. For-
tunately, at this period, some of his sketches which
had served to amuse his leisure, coming by accident
under the notice of one of the London publishers, he
engaged George to illustrate some infant Primers,
song books, and cheap drolleries; which not only
obtained for him the immediate means of living,
but led to the production of widely appreciated and
more durable works. From the success which met
his first efforts, he determined to make the pencil
his profession. To this end he obtained admission
to the Royal Academy as a student, in order that he
might have the benefit of the lectures and the oppor-
tunity for study, which that institution presented.
Fuseli, who was then lecturing, told him, owing to
the crowded state of the rooms, that he must “ fight
for a place.” The figures provided for illustration
being ill-placed, for his short sight, prevented his
making any drawings, and induced him to withdraw
from the Academy at the end of the course. He did
not, however, give up sketching, as he contributed at
this time a number of caricatures for “ The Scourge.”
This was before he was twenty; at which time he
projected, in conjunction with a friend of the name of
Earle, a periodical called “‘ The Meteor,” published at
half-a-crown. This was a failure, owing it is said, to
the negligence, of Earle. From this time’ George
devoted himself to the almost exclusive production
“SEEING LIFE.” 95

of caricatures. All the popular print-publishers were
employed at different times in bringing out his
humorous subjects.. At a later period he formed a
connection’ with the celebrated Mr. Hone, whose
political squibs he illustrated so forcibly, as to draw
crowds round the print-sellers’ windows. In 1820, the
trial of Queen Caroline furnished both Mr. Hone
and George with a subject peculiarly adapted to their
powers. “The House that Jack built,” “The Man
in the Moon,” “The Political Showman at Home,”
“The Queen’s Matrimonial Ladder,’ ‘“ Non mi
Ricordo,” “ A Slap at Slop,” are still remembered as
amongst the most amusing and attractive.
Cruikshank had Jong before this period contem-
plated a series of pictures to illustrate the evils of
what is called “Seeing life.” The designs he made
were accompanied by descriptive matter, written by
Pierce Egan, and published with the title of “ Life in
London.” The book became at once’ very popular ;
but his idea of rendering the book instructive as well
as amusing being lost sight of, he left the speculation
in disgust, before the work was finished. Probably
thinking that he could correct the mistakes in the
* Life in London,” he brought out “ Life in Paris,”
where he had sufficient opportunity to “ shoot folly
as it flies.” His next work was the illustration of a
series of popular German stories: these were very
successful, adding materially to the popularity of the
artist. These sketches, and others called the “ Points
96 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

of Humour,” drew forth a favourable notice in the
pages of ‘ Blackwood’s Magazine.” This at once
gave him the highest position as a comic illustrator ;
so that no work, having any pretensions to humour,
was deemed complete without the aid of his pencil.
The books that were indebted to him at this period for
their illustrations were Grimm’s “German Popular
Stories,” “Mornings at Bow Street,” “ Peter Schle-
mihl,” “ Italian Tales,” “ Hans of Iceland,” ‘ Tales
of Irish Life,” “ Punch and Judy,” “Tom Thumb,”
“ John Gilpin,” “The Epping Hunt.” At a later
period he produced the plates for the “ Tllustrations
of Phrenology,” “Tllustrations of Time,” “Scraps
and Sketches,” “ My Sketch-Book,” ‘Sketches by
Boz,”’ “ Oliver Twist,” ‘‘ The Tower of London,” and °
the “Comic Almanack.” The latter serial was an
ever-delightful mine of pleasure during the festive
season at which it was published. A few years before
the lamented death of Laman Blanchard, Cruikshank
published, in connection with him, a periodical called
“The Omnibus,” in which some of his best and =
piest sketches appeared.

While he was thus amusing the age he did not
forget to “ point a moral” as well as “adorn 4
tale.” His “ Sunday in London,” “ The Gin Shop,”
“The Gin Juggernaut,” “The Upas Tree,” “The
Pillars of a Gin Shop,” are all sermons in pictures.
* The Bottle,” a more recent production, has attained
immense celebrity. The tale of a drunkard’s life is
THE DRUNKARD’S CHILDREN. 97

faithfully told in these eight plates. They met with
extraordinary success, and were dramatised in most
of the theatres in thekingdom. A series of plates
— The Drunkard’s Children,” followed ‘The
Bottle,” but were less successful. During the progress
of the sale of these prints, George appeared on the
platform as the advocate of Teetotalism—a principle
which he had adopted, and which he has not failed
to recommend whenever the opportunity has been
presented. His Temperance addresses are full of
humour and point. His action on the plat-
form bears some affinity to his autograph—in
and out, and on no recognised principle or rule.

His jokes come ringing from him with all the
heartiness of a youth yet in his teens—his warnings
and bitter denunciation of wrong as the wise speaking
of the sybil. He has proved, in his own experience,
when over sixty, that alcoholic drinks were not neces-
sary for the development of his genius. He has
shown, at a period when it is generally supposed the
mental powers fail, and “ the fine gold becomes dim,”
that, by the aid of temperance, his powers unclouded
are preserved to the last. Recently he has produced
in, to him, a new line of art, several oil paintings
which have been exhibited in the British Institution
and Royal Academy. The most noticeable is “ Dis-
turbing a Congregation,” “A New Situation,” and
“ Dressing for the Day,” with some others equally
full of humour.

H
98 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK

In addition to these already enumerated capabilities,
Cruikshank possesses considerable dramatic ability.
When the Guild of Literature and Art was organised,
he took part with the utmost acceptance in the
dramatic performances given in London and the
provinces, under the management of Charles Dickens.

In his vocation as caricaturist, in the words of his
friend Samuel Philips, “ At no period has he drawn a
line which, however cutting may have been the satire
employed, has not had for its object the benefit, as
well as the amusement of his fellow men. His latest
works—attacking the most degrading of our national
vices—command our gratitude and respect. George
is popular amongst his associates. His face is an
index to his mind. _There is nothing anomalous
about him and his doings. His appearance, his
illustrations, his speeches, are all alike—all pic.
turesque, artistic, full of fun, feeling, geniality, and
quaintness. His seriousness is grotesque, and his
drollery is profound. He is the prince of living
caricaturists, and one of the best of men.”

The following speech, delivered at one of the
Manchester Athenzeum Soirées, and reported in the
papers, may be taken as an excellent sample of the
addresses of Cruikshank. He said, on being called
upon by the chairman—“ Ladies and gentlemen, a
celebrated orator, who had the name of Burke, was
once contesting an election in the west of England,
and yery deservedly he gained his election. The
ON THE PLATFORM, 99

other gentleman who was returned, his fellow-mem-
ber, was a very worthy man, but, as might be sup-
posed, had not the eloquence of Burke. Burke
happened, fortunately for both, to have the lead in
returning thanks for the honour of his election, and
he made a very splendid speech, receiving considerable
applause, as a matter of course. It came to the other
gentleman’s turn to make his acknowledgments ; and
he rose and said, ‘To what Mr. Burke has said,
gentlemen, I say ditto.’ (Laughter.) So, in the pre-
sent instance, ladies and gentlemen, to what our
excellent and eloquent chairman and the other worthy
gentlemen have said to you this evening, I say ditto;
and I believe that is all that I have to say. (Great
laughter and applause.) I see below,
‘A chiel’s amang ye takin’ notes,
Aun’ faith he’ll prent it.’ ”
(Laughier.) Mr. Cruikshank, in the same strain,
said that the chairman had said something at once
complimentary and very much to the purpose respect-
ing the ladies, and it so happened that he (Mr.
Cruikshank) was intending to say the same thing
himself. (Laughter.) This was not his first appear-
ance in public in Manchester, though his first in
that hall; and before he came to Manchester he was
given to understand that it was always raining here,
and that the town was filled with the most miserable
and wretched-looking people. (Laughter.) Accord-
ingly he prepared himself for the rain with an um-
H 2
100 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

brella, and looked with all his eyes for the queer-
looking people, but he had not been able to find
them. He had seen stout, healthy, vigorous work-
ing-people; but as to “the wretched victims of
tyranny and oppression in Manchester,”’ of whom he
had previously heard so much, he had not been so
lucky as to find them. In all his travels (which had
not been so extensive as Mr. Cobden’s), and he had
travelled all over England, he did not think he
could anywhere find better samples than the ladies
and gentlemen of Manchester; for the gentlemen
were very good-looking, and the ladies particularly
so. (Great laughter.) If he had produced anything
worthy of commendation, it was because he had
always worked for the women and the children; for he
had always considered, when he was about to pro-
duce any work, if be could instruct or amuse the
female mind and the minds of children, he should be
sure to have the men also. And he had been in-
duced to bring forth a late production from a sincere
desire to save poor wretched women from the bruta-
lity which they endured from the effects of intoxica-
tion on the part of men. If there needed a talent to
produce, there needed also a talent to appreciate, and
those before him, he felt assured, possessed that
talent. He thanked them for their kind reception of
him. (Applause.)
101

WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN:

MECHANIC'S APPRENTICE, ENGINEER, MEMBER OF
THE ROYAL SOCIETY, CORRESPONDENT OF THE
FRENCH INSTITUTE, LL.D., ETC.

On the installation of Lord Brougham as Chancellor
of the Edinburgh University, it was considered a
fitting opportunity to confer the honorary degree of
LL.D. on several men of distinguished eminence in
literature and science.

Amongst the group was specially noticed one whose
mental acquirements, untiring industry, and eminent
services rendered to practical science, had gained for
Lim a position independent of mere titular dig-
nities; and in honouring this man the College recog-
nised in him talent and perseverance united to
labour. In this distinction it said in effect, however
valuable a scholastic training might be deemed, that
it was possible to attain to literary distinction, and
in the investigation of truth to conduct the most
elaborate and minute experiments, and yet have been
debarred from the systematic education which col-
leges were founded to impart. That fact, thus
broadly admitted, should be the source of satisfac-
102 WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN.

tion to many hard-handed workers who feel within
them the heavings of great thoughts, prompting to
eminence and usefulness.

William Fairbairn was born at Kelso, in Roxburg-
shire, in the year 1789. His education, though
unworthy of the name, was received at the parish
school, where he learned imperfectly to read and
write ; however imperfect, it was all the education
that he received. What need, indeed, had his friends
to trouble themselves with his mental acquirements?
Their business was to secure him, if happily they
could, the means of earning his own living. And no
doubt it was satisfactory to them, when they were
enabled to apprentice him to a mechanic, to know
that he was put in the way of obtaining his own
bread. But William soon discovered that to learn
merely the routine of ‘‘ the shop,” would go but a
little way to advance his position in the world. His
ambition filled him with a desire to become something
more than a mere machine: he was anxious to be a
man possessed of mental resources that would be
useful as well as ornamental. Going again to school
was, of course, out of the question. But he could do
that which Sir Thomas More did—make his own home
a school. He could devote his evenings to study.
He could at least read, and in books—though but
scantily supplied in his case—were to be found all
the information he was ambitious of acquiring. His
first task was to make himself acquainted with the
THE EMPLOYMENT OF HIS EVENINGS. 103

introductory books of Euclid, and obtaining a
general knowledge of English literature. Thus em-
ploying his evening hours, he secured a double result
—obtaining an education, and kept out of the way of
temptation, and from indulging in low vitiating
pursuits which might, as they have done in thousands
of instances, have ruined his prospects for life. When
his apprenticeship was completed he found himself
with a store of general knowledge in addition to
being master of his trade. He was now desirous of .
seeing London, that city of which he had read and
heard so much. On his arrival there he obtained
employment as a journeyman millwright, which
position he occupied for two years. The fascinations
of the great metropolis, although not undervalued,
were not allowed to absorb his attention, or to draw
him from his fixed purpose of self-improvement. His
evening hours were still devoted to study. Now,
however, his attention was directed to the practical
rather than to the theoretical: construction and in-
vention of useful machines rather than to the study
of mechanical principles. He thus laid the founda-
tion of many future mechanical applications which
led him on to fame and fortune.

But London was not all England, and he was
desirous of acquainting himself with places as well
as things. To this end he made, at the close of his
two years’ labour, a tour through England and Ireland
—working on the road as he found opportunity. His
104 WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN.

wanderings were finally brought to an end at Man-
chester, where, after working as a journeyman, he
was enabled to commence business about the year
1817, on his own account. It must have been in a
small way, as he had neither friends nor money. But
unpropitious as circumstances seemed to be, he did
not doubt but that ultimately he should obtain both
a name and a substantial reward, and thus triumph
over circumstances of a seemingly insurmountable
character. In the same year (1817) he entered into
. partnership with Mr. Lillie, the firm being known as
“Fairbairn and Lillie :”’ nearly thirty years ago the
partnership was dissolved, the establishment having
since been carried on exclusively by Mr. Fairbairn.
When he first commenced business he was not
satisfied with merely waiting for work which might
come to him in the ordinary way: he cast about in
his mind for plans and improvements in existing
machinery, which, if adopted, must secure him a
large trade. After considerable thought on the
subject, he was successful in inducing one of the
factory owners to allow him almost entirely to re-
model his millwork, or transmission machinery, which
ultimately led to the present improved state of
gearing in mills. His chief improvements consisted
in the introduction of light shafting, higher velocities,
and other contrivances for driving the machinery by
a more simple and effective system than had been
previously in use. By this new process he was
HIS MECHANICAL IMPROVEMENTS. 105

enabled to increase the speed from 100 to 160 re-
volutions per minute, and thus to reduce the weight
and ultimate cost of this important branch of mecha-
nical appliance in gaining motion to the machinery
of the manufacturers. The success which followed
these undoubted improvements, led at once to a
considerable augmentation of business. His sub-
sequent inventions and improvements consisted in
modification in the valves of steam-engines; the
introduction of the double-flued boiler for alternate
firing, productive of economy in fuel and consump-
tion of smoke; improvements in the feeding appa-
ratus in mill-stones ; the adoption of a better principle
of suspension, and the ventilation of the buckets of
water-wheels ; also the invention of the rivetting-
machine, and the introduction of a more ornamental
style in the architecture of factories; the result of
which is seen in the beautiful buildings which stud
the whole of the manufacturing district of Lancashire.
Towards the end of 1829 Mr. Fairbairn thought it
possible to increase the speed of boats on canals and
rivers. At the request of the Canal Company of the
Forth and Clyde, he instituted a series of experi-
ments to ascertain the resistance of boats from three
to fourteen miles per hour. The experiments were
published at the expense of the company, although it
was not. considered that the end aimed at had been
accomplished. The company, however, fully en-
dorsed Mr. Fairbairn’s statement, that iron was the
106 WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN.

best and safest material for the construction of ves-
sels of every description. Iron boats, it is true, had
been in use before Mr. Fairbairn’s experiments, yet
not constructed upon such principles as would enable
them to resist the action of tempestuous seas, or
meet the dangers incidental to a perilous navigation.
Mr. Fairbairn saw the importance of his experi-
ments, and bent his entire energy to the perfecting
of his plans. One of his works was the building of
a small sea-going vessel in Manchester, and convey-
ing it through the streets and the nearest waterway
to its destination. This is believed to have been one
of the earliest essays in iron ship-building, and to
have led on to the most honourable success in this
department of mechanical skill. Mr. Fairbairn’s
enterprises in this direction were of the most extra-
ordinary kind. At the premises at Millwail, Lon-
don, since occupied by Mr. J. Scott Russell, he has
constructed not less than one hundred iron vessels,
many of them being the largest class frigates of not
less than two thousand tons burden. In the years
1834 and 1835, in consequence of an inferior cha-
racter of iron being used, public confidence in the
material was partially destroyed. At the instance of
the British Association for the Advancement of
Science, Mr. Fairbairn and Mr. Hodgkinson were
invited to report upon the whole subject. Their
labours and experiments on the comparative strength
of hot and cold blast iron, on the best form of cast
THE HYDE PARK EXHIBITION. 107

iron beams, by Mr. Hodgkinson, and on the
strength of certain materials under specific condi-
tions, were printed in the “Transactions” of the
Association.

Almost simultaneously Mr. Fairbairn instituted a
series of experiments on the value and relative pro-
perties of English iron. The result of his study in
this direction was published in the “ Transactions” of
the Literary and Philosophical Society of Man-
chester. These investigations had always reference
to an ulterior object, the development of some
mechanical principle. He certainly must think that
there is nothing like iron, as he was the first who
attempted iron houses and store buildings. His first
experiment in this direction was the construction
of a corn-mill, the castings and iron work for which
were sent out to Constantinople, where the building
was erected twenty years ago, and is still in use, we
believe; the first iron structure sent from this
country.

As a just tribute to his recognised practical ability
he was appointed one of the jurymen of the Great
Exhibition in Hyde Park, and also President of the
Sixth Class in the Exhibition in Paris in 1855.

When the means for crossing the Menai Straits
by the Chester and Holyhead Railway were under
consideration, Mr. Fairbairn’s practical and theore-
tical knowledge of wrought and cast iron as mate-
vials of construction, and of the available disposition
108 WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN.

of them in the best form for strength, were well
known and obviously pointed to him as an authority
to be consulted. Subsequently the relative portions
of merit due to Mr. Fairbairn and Mr. Robert Ste-
phenson became the subject of considerable discus-
sion. It is admitted that the conception of the
bridges at Conway and the Menai Straits is due to
Mr. Stephenson, but the experimental research and
development of the principle, as well as the practical
working out of the project, is due to Mr. Fairbairn.
The bridges are monuments of their united skill and
energy, and as such should be known to the world.
It is certain, however, that Mr. Fairbairn and Mr.
Hodgkinson were engaged upon an elaborate series
of experiments, some of which produced unexpected
results; from these experiments the best form and
dimensions of the tubes were deduced. They have
since mainly led to the general use of wrought-iron
plate girders in ordinary building operations, as well
as in railway engineering. The same investigations
contributed largely to the present extensive use of
iron in ship-building. ,
In addition to the creation of an ample fortune, he
has received marks of respect from learned bodies in
all parts of the world, as well as special distinction
from the chief sovereigns of Europe. His literary
productions include one on steam navigation for
canals, on the resistance and other properties of iron,
on the iron of Great Britain, experimental researches
THE RESULTS OF HIS LIFE. 109

on the malleability of iron at different degrees of
temperature, on the adhesive properties of different
species of iron, on the resistance of iron plates and
their rivets and joinings applied to the construction
of ships and other vessels exposed to violent tension,
on the tubular bridges, Conway and Britannia, lec-
tures to working engineers of Lancashire and York-
shire, on boilers and boiler explosions, on the con-
sumption of fuel, on iron ship-building, on steam,
and other subjects. He is also the author of many
contributions to scientific works which do not bear
his name.

He is a Fellow of the Royal Society, and Corre-
spondent of the French Institute; and for many
years filled the chair of Dalton in the Literary and
Philosophical Society of Manchester.

His son, Mr. Thomas Fairbairn, was the President
of the Executive Committee of the Art Treasures
Exhibition at Manchester, and is also the projector
of a permanent art gallery in that important town,
thus worthily following in the steps of his father.

It must be admitted that the result in the life of
Mr. Fairbairn, from a beginning so comparatively
trivial, is almost incredible. The effect of its recital,
however, upon two classes of mind will be exactly
the reverse. One man, after reading the sketch, will
supinely fold his hands with the self-consoling
thought that “fate” willed the rise of the celebrated
engineer, and therefore to fate is he solely indebted ;
110 WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN.

another man, reasoning from causes to effects, will
see that indomitable energy and perseverance is the
talisman that has created his success. The man that
believes in fate will thus find additional reasons for
patiently waiting until his lucky chance arrives ; the
other, who counts nothing upon fate, but believes
entirely in endeavours, will brace himself for a
combat with the circumstances by which he is sur-
rounded; he will find himself speedily fated to suc-
ceed, because he uses the means of success. He
must rise because he puts his foot on an elevation.
He must learn because he adopts means to acquire
knowledge. Ignoring effort, industry, and persever-
ance, the man that calls upon Jupiter, without put-
ting his shoulder to the wheel, shuffles through ex-
istence a pain to himself and a source of distress to
his friends. His invariable answer to all reasonings
and importunings is, “ that his turn will come some
day.’ So it will, indeed; but it will be to be car-
ried to the narrow-house uncared for and unre-
gretted; but his turn will never come to be respected
without carning respect ; to be in the possession of
knowledge without its preliminary acquirement; to
attain riches from trade without laborious days and
nights of careful thought. Fate never so wills. Her
prizes are for the strong, for the fleet of foot, for the
painstaking and persevering. ‘For the coward, the
idle, and the irresolute, she has no rewards but dis-
appointment—the bitter consciousness of a wasted
life and dissipated powers.
THE RESULTS OF HIS LIFE. 111

Be it ours, then, to aspire to the spirit which
animates William Fairbairn; to imitate him in his
devotion to self-improvement ; in his self-respect
which shielded him from the allurements of vice, and
n his industry, which has surrounded him with
friends, and secured him a noble competency for his
declining years.

Since the preceding was written, it has been
decided to hold the Meeting of the British Association
for the Advancement of Science, in 1861, at Man-
chester. At the Oxford meeting, when it was pro-
posed, Sir R. 8. Murchison said—* As one of the old
members of the British Association, he retained a
lively sense of the kindness and hospitality of his
friends in Manchester in 1847, and he was delighted
that they had selected that city for their place of
meeting next year. The duty now devolved upon
him of proposing a president for the Manchester
meeting, and he had much pleasure in suggesting the
name of a gentleman, who, above all others, was best
fitted to occupy the post of President to the Asso-
ciation,—an excellent type, a specimen of Manchester
men, one of those men whose industry and power
united had made Manchester what it was—he meant
Mr. William Fairbairn. He (Sir R. Murchison) felt
that he was incompetent as a geologist, and a geogra-
pher, to do adequate justice to the high merits of
Mr. Fairbairn. He was a Scotchman, and was
brought vp in a county in which he (Sir. R. Mur-
112 WILLIAM FAIRBAIRN.

chison) spent many years of his life. For half a
century he had put forth his scientific labours, and
every engineer in the British islands would bless his
name for the advantages he had conferred upon them.
The experiments of Mr. Fairbairn in what engineers
called the cellular structure were well known, for
without these experiments—by which they were
taught to give strength to the arc with the least pos-
sible amount of iron employed—the spanning of their
rivers and arms of the sea never could have been
accomplished.”


























































































William and Robert Chambers entering Edinburgh poor and friendless,

eh Kalas
113

WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS:

POOR PEEBLES BOYS, BOOKSELLERS, THE CEL=-
BRATED AUTHORS, AND EMINENT PUBLISHERS.

A MAN is said to be a benefactor of his country who
makes two blades of grass grow where one only grew
before. What shall we say, then, of that man who,
finding mental darkness pervading his country, leaves
it suffused with light, the result of his perseverance
and the right employment of his talents? Taking
the difficulties of his task into account, is not such a
man more than a hero? Should we not esteem him
before kings, princes, or the aristocrat; who, born
to the position they occupy, have done little to ennoble
it? In that case William and Robert Chambers are
entitled to one of the highest niches in the Temple
of Fame. Their names, and the useful works in
which they have spent their lives, should act as a
stimulus to the most desponding—animating to hope,
industry, perseverance.

Peebles, a pretty town on Tweedside, was the birth-
place of William and Robert Chambers. William
was born in 1800, and Robert in 1802. While they
were boys they were thrown on their own resources,

I
114 WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

which means much more than most boys imagine;
it means that the wide wide world was all before
them “where to choose ;” that their friends had not
the power to assist them in the storms, the rude
buffetings, and the many disappointments of life ;
they had therefore to carve out for themselves a
means of existence, and a path of worthfulness,
probity, and honour, which might truly be the envy
of the eminent and the good. This was the business
of these two Peebles boys; and this is what is
meant by being thrown on. their own resources.
And if ever resources were garnered, treasured, and
used, with the thriftiness of the diamond merchant
gloating over his most precious stores, these boys,
William and Robert, used, garnered, and stored
theirs. Be it remembered that these resources were
not some dowry left by a provident relation, or any
windfall which made them independent of circum-
stances, setting them at ease and comfort in regard
to the needed “ways and means” of life. They
were not to go forth thus cushioned and protected.
Their resources were the patrimony of every boy and
man with health in his limbs and determination in his
breast; and, as thousands have proved, they are
indeed.a splendid dowry with which to commence the
race of life.

But what were these two Peebles boys to do?
They had looked round their native town and found
no opening for their energy and ambition. At this
ON THEIR OWN RESOURCES. 115

juncture they formed a resolution to try their fortunes
in Edinburgh. On their entrance into the city there
was no rejoicing on the part of the inhabitants, who
were all unconscious of the fact that their advent
marked a proud era in the history of that city; and
that the two boys who had so unostentatiously taken
up their abode in the “ old town,” would do as much,
if not more, than any of its citizens, to spread its
fame to the uttermost parts of the earth. The first
thing which William and Robert set themselves to
do in the Modern Athenswas to take two smallshops on
Leith Walk, where they hoped, with the attraction

- of a stall, to while the passer by into buying a few of
their small stock of books. This very humble start
of theirs could be equalled by any boy or man so dis-
posed, for a few shillings. But in this respect their
example is not singular. Many of the most eminent
bookselling and publishing ‘firms have had a com-
mencement quite as small.

At the outset, William and Robert’s progress was
very slow; but still they were satisfied, because it
was progress, William, however, anxious to get on,
learned the art of printing, which he carried on in a
small way over his little shop. But as the book-
selling required his attention during the day, and as
he could not afford to employ a man, he must
necessarily work early and late, when his shop was
shut up. One old gentleman, whose business or incli-
nation accustomed him to pass through Leith Walk

12
Pages
116-117
Missing

From
Original
118 WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

seize every intelligent young provincial that goes to
take up his abode in it, Robert Chambers seems,
while yet a mere boy, to have contracted, in his
perambulations through the town, an antiquarian
acquaintance with all its noted localities. And when
the idea struck him of writing a book on so interest-
ing and attractive a subject, he spared no pains to
convert this general acquaintance with the streets
and suburbs of Edinburgh into a minute and perfect
knowledge. Probably there was not a nook or corner
of the town, not a close or Jand in the dingiest pur-
lieus of Auld Reekie, that he did not visit and explore
in person. All such oral or written sources of infor-
mation as were open to him, were also diligently
consulted; and in particular, interesting materials
were communicated to him by Mr. Charles Kirk-
patrick Sharpe and Sir Walter Scott, to whom his
inquiries during the preparation of the book were the
means of introducing him, and to whom, when it was
finished, he dedicated it—the first volume to Mr.
Sharpe, the second to Sir Walter.”

The success of this first venture on the sea of
literature encouraged Robert to publish, in 1826,
the “ Popular Rhymes of Scotland,” which was also
well received, adding greatly to the rising reputation
of its author. Then followed his “ Picture of Scot-
land,” three volumes of histories of the “ Scottish
Rebellions,” two of a “Life of James I.,” three ,
volumes of ‘Scottish Ballads and Songs,” and a
THE FAMOUS JOURNAL. 119

* Biographical Dictionary of Eminent Scotchmen,”
in four large volumes! Work enough here, surely,
to satisfy the most exacting. It is true that Robert
had the true spirit of labour, and that any genius he
might have was turned to excellent account. All
this while, be it remembered, the shop on Leith Walk
was duly attended, and its duties faithfully per-
formed.

Meanwhile William had employed the spare mo-
ments, not needed in his shop or printing room, in
the composition of his first work, the “Book of
Scotland,” containing a clear and succinct account of
the usages, laws, and institutions of Scotland. This
book, which was published in 1830, still remains the
best book of reference on the social system of Scot-
land, its courts, its laws of marriage and divorce,
its schools, and its various er and municipal
organizations.

In 1829 the brothers united their energies in the
production of a “ Gazetteer of Scotland,” an enter-
prise for which they were both peculiarly fitted. This
important work, published in 1832, was written for
the most part on the shop counter during the odd
moments occurring in the intervals of business. On
the completion of this work, William projected the
famous “ Edinburgh Journal,” “to supply,” as he
said, “ intellectual food of the best kind, and in such
a form, and at such a price as must suit the con-
venience of every man in the British dominions.”
120 WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS,

The public appreciation of the new journal was
marked by a demand of 50,000 copies ; and in 1844,
when it, was thought advisable to change its form
from the folio to the octavo size, the weekly issue was
72,000; and in the next year, 1845, it rose to the
enormous circulation of 90,000! The success which
has ever attended this famous serial is undoubtedly
to be traced to the fact that it is what it pretends to
be—an original journal. It is not a mere series of
reprints, or a collection of newspaper cuttings. It is
the production of competent literary men; indeed,
during its lengthened career, many of the most
eminent authors have been employed to enrich its
pages, receiving an adequate, and even liberal re-
muneration for their services. The general favour
extended towards the journal by the public, induced
the brothers to join their resources and enter into
partnership, taking premises for their joint opera-
tions, in the first instance, in Waterloo Place; these
were relinquished for their present handsome print-
ing-office and warehouse in High Street, which is
certainly one of the sights best worth seeing in Edin-
burgh. It was in these new quarters that the
valuable works, the “Information for the People,”
and the “Cyclopedia of English Literature,’ were
published. These works, the one containing a series
of popular, scientific, and historic treatises, and the
other a survey of literature from the earliest times to
the present day, with biographical notices of authors,
SUCCESSFUL CAREER AS PARTNERS. 121

and appropriate extracts, form one of the most valuable
contributions to literature made during the present
century. On their completion, the “ People’s Edi- :
tion of Standard English Works ;” “The Educational
Course ;”” “ Chambers’ Miscellany ;” ‘‘ Chambers’
Papers for the People,’ and “ Chambers’ Tracts,”
followed in quick succession. Each of these ventures
was a splendid success, and was a further evidence of
the foresight of the now famous brothers. Their
singular energy and perseverance is well illustrated
in the instance of the ‘“ Educational Course,” which
has been brought to its present state of completeness
through a series of apparently insurmountable diffi-
culties. The “ First Book for Children,” a sixpenny
book, was published about eighteen years ago; the
“ Course” now includes works on every subject, from
the alphabet to the highest classic. This series illus-
trates an interesting feature of the Chambers’ esta-
blishment—the publication of none but really good
and useful books. While other publishers, anxious
only to issue what they thought would sell, have, in
too many instances only ministered to the morbid
and diseased taste of the reader, the Messrs. Chambers,
on the other hand, solicitous for the elevation of their
fellow-men, have only published such books as ought
to sell, and that were commendable by their intrinsic
merits. It is to the honour of the times in which
we live, that these praiseworthy efforts have not only
been encouraged, but that they have been most sub-
stantially rewarded.
122 WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

The last, and which bids fair to be the most im-
portant work published by William and Robert, is
the “Encyclopedia, a Dictionary of Universal
Knowledge for the People.” From the seventh part
we learn the advance made in popular literature
during the period that the brothers have been in
business :—

“The changes produced in the English book trade
by the cheap press are not more remarkable than
that improvement in taste which has subdued the
traffic in books of a politically objectionable, and of
a demoralising character. Contrary to fears enter-
tained on the subject, the cheapening of books,
periodicals, and newspapers has in no perceptible
degree deteriorated literature. The sale of books of
a grossly demoralising tendency has been driven into
obscurity, and in other ways circumscribed by a
recent Act of Parliament (21 and 22 Vict. cap. 83) ;
and it is demonstrable, as regards periodicals, that
those of an objectionable kind form but a small pro-
portion of the.whole. On this subject we offer the
following statement, the result of careful inquiry into
the cheap periodical trade in 1859-1860 :—Religious
but not sectarian periodicals, at 4d., 1d. and 14d.
each, twenty in number, aggregate issue per month,
1,436,500. Two periodicals of the Religious Tract
Society of London, one sold at 1d., and the other at
4d., aggregate issue per month, 804,000. Temper-
ance, at 3d. and 1d. each, nine in number, aggregate
A COMPARISON. 123

issue per month, 203,000. Useful, educational, and
entertaining literature, at 1ld., 14d., and 2d. each,
seven in number, aggregate issue per month,
2,400,000. Novels, stories, ballads, &c., at 1d. each,
six in number, aggregate issue per month, 3,200,000.
Romances and tales to excite the sentiments of won-
der and horror, mostly at 1d. each, sixty in number;
the issue of these could not be ascertained, but it is
believed to reach the monthly aggregate of 1,500,000.
Stories and memoirs of an immoral nature, at ld.
each, four in number, aggregate issue per month,
52,500. Freethinking and irreligious, two in num-
ber, with, it is believed, a comparatively limited
circulation. According to this view, the cheap peri-
odical literature may be classed and summed up in
amount as follows:—1. Works of an improving ten-
dency, circulation per month, 8,043,500. 2. Works
of an exciting nature, but not positively immoral,
circulation per month, 1,500,000. 8. Works im-
moral, and opposed to the religion of the country,
circulation per month probably under 80,000.”

The English reader is also made acquainted with
the book trade of the Modern Athens, in some fea-
tures presenting a contrast to the London trade :—

* Considering the many advantages possessed by
London, it may appear surprising that the business of
publishing should be attempted to any extent in
Edinburgh—the only place out of the metropolis to
which we need specially refer. Yet, the Scottish
124 WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

capital is not devoid of recommendations. Its general
society is of a character to invite the residence of
men of literary acquirements, and it is fortunate in
possessing an extensive collection of books for re-
ference in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates.
Edinburgh publishers are able to conduct their enter-
prises with a degree of calmness and’ deliberation
which can scarcely be realized in London; while, at
the same time, they enjoy a certain advantage in com-
paratively cheap labour. Paper also may be obtained
at a somewhat lower price from Scotch makers than
from the wholesale stationers of London—this last
circumstance being of first importance in producing
large impressions of cheap books and periodicals. As
Edinburgh books are mostly sent to London, the.
expense of carriage and loss by commission form a
drawback on profits. Notwithstanding this and
other disadvantages, the book trade of Edinburgh
continues in a thriving condition. In 1860, it com-
prehended upwards of thirty firms carrying on the
united business of publishers and booksellers, and
ninety as booksellers alone. In this list are eight or
nine leading publishing houses, all of which, with
one exception, print the works which they issue—an
economical and convenient union of professions which
forms a peculiar feature of the Edinburgh book-trade.
In the establishment whence the present work is
issued, every department connected with the prepa-
ration and dispersion of books is included.”
CUTTING THE LEAVES OF BOOKS. 125

In the same article we are presented with the fact,
that the mere cutting of the edges of a book exercises
an important influence upon its sale :—

“In doing up booksin cloth boards, the American
binders invariably cut off the outer folds of the
sheets, so as to smooth the edges of the leaves, as in
English leather binding; by which process the first
readers of new books are spared the trouble of cutting
open the leaves. Many persons have wished to see
this improvement, for such it is, introduced into
England. There are still, however, prejudices to be
overcome on the subject. Strange as it may appear,
numbers of purchasers like to cut up the leaves with
a folder as they advance through a new book or
periodical, from an idea that the repeated slight inter-
ruptions heighten the pleasure of perusal. In our
experience, we have known gentlemen who would not
sit down to read a cut up new book. Besides, there
isa notion among buyers in England, that books
with smooth-cut leaves may be second-hand, and not
worth the price of new. Undoubtedly, the Americans
are ahead of Europeans generally in this particular.”

The Messrs. Chambers employ at the present time
in their Edinburghestablishment, exclusively upon their
own publications, nearly two hundred hands. Their
premises, including every branch of printing and book-
binding, are about 268 feet from front to back, and
45 in depth. The pressroom, which is exceedingly
spacious and well lighted, contains ten printing
126 WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

machines and one high pressure steam-engine. The
number of sheets turned out by these machines
averages 700,000 per month, or ten millions per
year! The duty paid on this mass of paper amounted
annually to the important sum of £3000 — an
item, when the duty on paper is repealed, from which
the public as well as the Messrs. Chambers will be
saved.

But what a contrast all this presents to the time
when William stood at his counter through the day,
and worked half through the night at his hand-press !
Did he, in his most sanguine moments, ever expect
to see a result so magnificent? Robert usually re-
sides at the establishment in Edinburgh, not only in
the enjoyment of ample wealth, but with the friend-
ship and esteem of the most eminent of his fellow-
citizens. The elder brother has purchased an estate
in his native county, where he spends a considerable
portion of his well-earned leisure. A few years since
he made a trip to the United States, which resulted
in his fresh and reliable book—‘*‘ Sketches of Ame-
rica.” Since his return he has built and presented
to his native town, Peebles, at the cost, we believe,
of thirty thousand pounds, a reading and news-room,
with a well furnished library.

We have thus seen how these two boys, thrown on
their own resources, started in their race of life; we
now see them, their names “familiar as household
words,” with a reputation extending throughout the
SPLENDID RESULTS. 127

world. Fame and fortune alike their portion, they
live—and long may they live—with the delightful
consciousness that their productions will be a source
of profit and pleasure to the latest generation. Long
may they live to furnish an example of the honour
and profit attending a life of perseverance and in-
dustry to the inhabitants of a not ungrateful
country !
128

SIR JOHN FRANKLIN:

LINCOLNSHIRE BOY, NAVAL HERO, AND GREAT
ARCTIC EXPLORER.

Over the sea, to the land of storms, of suffering, deso-
lation, and death—to seas of ice, where our hardiest
mariners, shut out from the sympathy of those they
loved, met danger as heroes, and only succumbed to
the cold hand of death—they had gone on a mission
of duty, which they performed as Englishmen have
ever done, fearlessly. And if death came, as death
did come, so that the Esquimaux would have to
record that “ they fell down and died as they walked
along the ice,’ would not He, whose eye never
slumbers, mark their self-sacrifice, their devotion as
good and faithful servants, discharging to the utmost
the trust reposed in them by their country ?

It is of the leader of that intrepid band of men, who -
went out to the arctic regions at the bidding of his
country, in the hope of discovering a passage between
the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, of whom we write.
He, and not only he, but every man of the expedition,
lost his life; not one of all the two ships’ crews re-
turned to tell the sad tale of sorrow, suffering, and






































Nis
130 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

hagen, when Nelson destroyed the great confederacy
which had been formed with the intention of humbling
England!. Captain Lawford took care that the
“ Polyphemus” should be a leading ship in the fight,
and that it should present an impregnable front to
the enemy. When he returned home to that old
house at Spilsby, with how much interest would Joha
Franklin recite the glories of that great sea-fight ?

His next voyage was with Captain Flinders, in the
very leaky and unsound ship, the “ Investigator.” In
our day such a vessel would scarcely be intrusted
with a cargo of coals from the mouth of the Thames
to London Bridge; and yet for two years the ship
was beating about that country to which Captain
Flinders gave the name of Australia: Franklin,
meanwhile, was enduring all the hardships of a long
and perilous voyage. It was the apprenticeship,
however, of many much more perilous undertakings
for his country. Happily, he not only came in con-
tact with a new country and experienced the usual
vicissitudes of the explorer, but he had also the com-
panionship of his captain, who could tell him of mar-
vellous adventures in the Great South Sea; of
charming Otaheite and its generous inhabitants; of
the Sandwich Islands, and the death of the famed
discoverer, Captain Cook. Flinders could relate how
he had stood face to face with death: for had he not
navigated Van Diemen’s Land in an open boat, and
FIRST SHIPWRECK. 131

accompanied Bass when he discovered the Strait
called by his name?

‘When the leaky ship was beating about Australia,
the great Napoleon had sent explorers to map out the
coast of Australia. Leaky as the “ Investigator”
was, it was manned by stout English hearts, and com-
manded by one who anticipated in every instance the
French navigators. At the period of which we write,
Nelson not only manifested the prowess of the
British navy, but Flinders, in his old ship, demon-
strated that English conquests could be equally glo-
rious in the less exciting voyage of discovery. The
“Investigator” at last had done its work. It had
earned enduring laurels for England; but now it was
found utterly useless. At this time, to make matters
worse, scurvy and dysentery had made their appear-
ance among the crew. However, Port Jackson was
near, where the old ship was discarded, the captain,
Franklin, and the crew obtaining a passage home in
the good ship “ Porpoise.” We find them on board
in 1808, trusting for favouring gales to waft them
once more to the shores of Old England. In passing
north about round Australia, the “‘ Porpoise” got on
a reef of rocks called Torres Straits—then little
known. When the look-out discovered the dreaded
breakers a gun was fired to warn their two consorts
of the danger. The “ Porpoise” was soon a wreck ;
fortunately, after the masts had gone overboard, the
hull fell towards the reef, which saved the vessel from

.K 2
132 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

immediate destruction. The next vessel also became
a wreck, falling towards the sea ; however, the greater
part of her crew was drowned. The third vessel, to
the infinite disgrace of her captain, fled to the open
sea, there to experience a worse fate, the foundering
of the ship and the loss of every soul on board!
‘When the crews of the two vessels mustered, it was
found that there were ninety-four human beings on
a sand-bank not more than 400 feet long. The nearest
port from whence succour could be obtained, was the
port from whence they had sailed, Port Jackson, and
it was 750 miles distant. The brave Flinders had
been in many difficulties before—could he not find a
a way out of this? He could at least try. He and
some picked men took an open boat in the hope of
reaching Port Jackson, which, by the blessing of
Providence, they succeeded in doing, returning in
time to rescue their exhausted comrades from the
sand-bank. Captain Flinders would take care, after
that adventure, on his return to England, that every
captain sailing to Australia was made aware of
Torres Strait.

When Franklin had arrived at Port Jackson, there
seemed only one way of returning home, embracing
an offered opportunity of going to China, and then
returning to England in one of the Honourable Com-
pany’s ships. In the January of 1804, he found
himself on board the “ Earl Camden,”? commanded
by Captain Nathaniel Dance, sailing from Canton
HOW THE FRENCH “ CAUGHT A TARTAR.” 183

river, in charge of fifteen merchantmen laden with
valuable Chinese produce. All went well with the
vessels until the 14th of February, when strange sails
were descried in the distance. The strangers proved
to be three French frigates under the command of
Admiral Linois, whose flag was hoisted on board the
notorious “ Marengo.” Dance instantly put the
vessels in order of battle. To the astonishment there-
fore of the French, instead of finding the rich China
prize ready to their hands, they found a little fleet of
ships ready to dispute every ounce of goods in their
possession. The French commander determined to
wait until morning, in the hope that the vessels
would separate during the night, when they would
fall an easy prey. But strange to say, when the
morning dawned, the merchantmen were discovered
as on the previous night, all ready to engage. Pre-
sently Dance gave the order to make sail. The
French admiral thought he could at least cut off
some of the hindmost ships. On the instant when the
attempt was made, Dance threw out the signal—
«Tack ! bear down and engage the enemy !”” What
a glorious hurrah! burst from the throats of those
British tars at the sight! Admiral Linois did not
like being surrounded, so he gave fis orders to
“make sail”? Dance, not to be outdone, gave the
additional order—“ Make chase!’ And then was
seen a sight, the like of which was never seen before
or since—a squadron of French men-of-war, perfectly
134 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

equipped, under the command of a French admiral,
flying from fifteen English merchantmen! Well
might Franklin in after-years proudly recite the par-
ticulars of that incident.

When the convoy reached England, our hero en-
tered as signal midshipman on board the “ Bellero-
phon,” in which vessel he took part in the ever
memorable battle of Trafalgar. In the subsequent
attempt to take New Orleans, Franklin was for the
first time wounded. When the much-desired Peace
came, his thoughts were again directed to maritime
discovery. At that time the ever-recurring question
of a North-West Passage was once more uppermost.
Franklin had then been advanced to the position of a
lieutenant, and was in his thirty-first year; all his
antecedents proving him to be the man best adapted
for an arctic command, to which he was wisely
elected. And so, on the 25th of April, 1818, we
find the discovery brigs, “ Dorothea” and “ Trent,”
sailing down the Thames. The first vessel was com-
manded by Captain Buchan, the latter by Lieutenant
John Franklin. Neither captain had a doubt on the
subject of their voyage. They would surely pass
from the Atlantic into the Pacific Ocean by the
North-West Passage. So confident were they on
this matter that they arranged before leaving Eng-
land on their rendezvous in the Pacific Ocean !

Six months after the “Dorothea” and “ Trent ”
again entered the Thames, sadly battered and wea-
ARCTIC RIGOURS. 135

ther-beaten. Their crews had a tale full of peril and
wondrous escapes. They had not been on the Pacific
Ocean, or near it. It is true they had lost no time.
A month had not elapsed since the expedition sailed
before they were in the cold regions. Long before
that time the “Trent”? was discovered to be leaky,
which necessitated from first to last a number of men
being constantly kept at the pumps. The vessels
had been subjected to storms that piled “ tons
weight ” of snow-flakes on their decks. The axe
had constantly to be used to clear them of ice and
snow. It availed little that the crews met the
storms with light hearts and cheerful faces. They
had to return twice to Magdalena Bay, each time in
a more woeful plight. Both vessels had been in
fearful collision with the ice, but providentially both
had been preserved—preserved with broken timbers,
sprung beams, and the “ Dorothea’s ” side forced in!
It was evident the “Dorothea” must return. Franklin
was desirous to go on alone; but Buchan, who had
the command of the expedition, wisely determined
that both vessels should make for home.

A twelvemonth had not passed, however, before
Franklin was once more in the cold regions. This
time it was to be a boating expedition on the coasts
of Arctic America. Franklin was accompanied by
the present Sir John Richardson, George Back,
Robert Hood, midshipman, and John Hepburn, sea-
man, ‘The expedition left England in 1819, and
136 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

returned in 1822. Speaking of that journey, Sir
John Barrow said :—‘ It adds another to the many
splendid records of enterprise, zeal, and energy of
our seamen: of that cool and intrepid conduct which
never forsakes them on occasions the most trying—
that unshaken constancy and perseverance in situa-
tions the most distressing, and sometimes the most
hopeless, that can befall human beings; and it fur-
nishes a beautiful example of the triumph of mental
and moral energy over mere brute strength, in the
simple fact that out of fifteen individuals, inured from
their birth to cold, fatigue, and hunger, no less than
ten (native landsmen) were so subdued by the aggra-
vation of those evils to which they had been
habituated as to give themselves up to indifference,
insubordination, and despair, and finally to sink
down and. die; whilst of five British seamen, unac-
customed to the severity of the climate and the hard-
ships attending it, one only fell, and that one by the
hands of an assassin. A light buoyant heart, a con-
fidence in their own powers, supported by a firm
reliance on a merciful Providence, never once for-
sook them, and brought them through such misery
and distress as rarely, if ever, have beea sur-
mounted.”

On the return of Franklin there was much re-
joicing at his safety, and at the daring manifested
during the ‘expedition. It was evident to all that
Franklin was no common man. In his absence he
HIS MARRIAGE. 187

had been made a commander; and now, on his
return, he was promoted to the rank of captain.

In 1823 Eleanor Porden became his wife—and a
true, noble wife she was, worthy of such a husband.
They had been married only two short years, however,
when Franklin received a commission to proceed upon
another arctic expedition. He was much distressed
at the thought of leaving his wife, and yet he could
not reject the call of duty. Eleanor knew that the
hand of death was upon her; she might never see
her husband more. But forgetting self, and subduing
her own wishes and inclinations, she conjured her
husband to go forth at the call of his country; and in
the true spirit of a noble woman, of whom England
has need to be proud, she worked with her own hands
a flag for her husband to spread to the winds when
he gained the Frozen seas! In the absence of the
expedition the spirit of this excellent woman went to
its reward.

On the return of the expedition their countrymen
vied with each other in paying its members that
honour which their endurance so well merited.
Three years after the death of Franklin’s first wife,
Jane Griffin committed herself to his keeping.
Truer, nobler, more heroic woman, surely never
plighted her faith with man! How worthy, the
whole world knows.

The summer of 1844 had come. The scientific
world was once again agitated with the news of
138 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

another arctic expedition. Officers and seamen were
using all the influence at their command to have their
names enrolled in the band of gallant men who were
to open up the North-West Passage. It had been
expected that Fitzjames, a man of great energy and
ability, would be appointed to the command. Sir
John Franklin, however, who had but recently re-
turned from the official position of Governor of Van
Diemen’s Land, put in his claim for the command,
as being the oldest arctic explorer. Lord Haddington,
the First Lord of the Admiralty, in great kindness,
suggested that Franklin might rest satisfied at home
with his already accumulated honours. “I might
find a good excuse for not letting you go, Sir John,”
said he, “in the tell-tale record which informs me
that you are sixty years of age.” ‘No, no, my lord,
not sixty,” he replied, “I am only fifty-nine!” It
was clear Franklin had made up his mind togo. The
command of the two vessels, the “Erebus” and
“Terror,” was therefore given to him; the
“Terror” being under the command of Captain
Crozier. On the 18th of May, 1845, the two vessels
started on their long voyage. A store-ship had
accompanied them, so that both vessels might have
their stores completed before entering the Arctic seas.
When it returned it bore a letter from Fitzjames,
in which he said,— That Sir John was delightful ;
that all had become very fond of him, and that he
appeared remarkable for energetic decision in an
FURTHER ARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. 139

emergency. The officers were remarkable for good
feeling, good humour, and great talents; whilst the
men were fine hearty sailors, mostly from the northern
ports.”

The two vessels had no sooner entered Baffin’s
Bay than they encountered a severe tempest, through
which they passed, providentially, without sustaining
material injury. They were too anxious to proceed,
to allow Greenland to stop them in their progress. The
packed ice appears in sight, and the look-out, who
has found a lane of water, cries “So-ho! steady !
steer her with a small helm, my lad!” In a few
moments, after receiving some bruises in the contact,
the “Erebus” and “Terror” are fairly in the ice.
Now, the vessels have frequently to be towed by
ropes, and at other times rest helpless by the side of
an iceberg. Occasionally the monotony is relieved
by a whaler from Aberdeen or Hull, striving to get
into Pond’s Bay. It is still, “On, on! to the
westward!” Anon the vessels touch the coast of
North Devon—so aptly called “ Desolation’s Abiding-
place.” Beechy Island is made, and Wellington
Channel is found open. It was intended to have
gone south-west from Cape Walker, but blocks of ice
effectually barred the way. Why not try a passage
north-about round Parry Islands? Anything is better
than delay. Away sail the “ Erebus” and “ Terror”
into Penny’s Strait. But soon the way is found
blocked with ice. Nothing for it but to turn the
140 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. “

vessels southward. Barrow’s Straits are entered, and
now dangers are encountered sufficient to appal the
stoutest hearts. Winter quarters must be sought—
fortunately Beechy Island is within reach, and there
the vessels are secured for the winters of 1845 and
1846, Without experiencing it, who can know
the dreary terrors of a Polar winter? In those
gloomy regions there are three months of twilight and
darkness! We may be sure the crews of the two
vessels bore it bravely. An observatory was erected,
a shooting gallery was formed, and various remains
of social life attest the efforts made by the crews to
pass cheerfully that long winter. Three of the sailors
have succumbed to its rigours, and have been reve-
rently placed within the graves prepared by their
comrades. But light once more returns; the spring
is about to break upon those ice-bound mariners.
Exploring parties with sledges leave the vessels ; but,
sad to say, Franklin was not well provided with means
of overland locomotion. His sledge parties did not
go a greater distance from the ships than twenty
miles. Captain M‘Clintock subsequently, by suitable
arrangements, was enabled to carry boats, tents,
clothing, food, and fuel, and to travel, as he did,
fourteen hundred miles of ground and frozen sea,
When spring had come, and it was felt that the ice
was moving, there went up a mighty shout from those
long imprisoned men. In the middle of August the
look-out observed an opening—and away go the vessels
HIS DEATH. 141

down Peel’s Channel. King William’s Land and
the American continent are ahead—only let them
get there, and those mariners will have found the
long-sought North-West Passage! The prize is just
within their grasp. Only one hundred miles now
lie between those brave hearts: and the consumma-
tion of their wishes! Ah! but the winter—that
cruel winter of 1846 and 1847—has set in. At this
time the ships were only twelve miles from Cape
Felix— a dangerous position indeed. What men
could do, those men had done, and yet they were
helpless. No doubt, during all that perilous time,
hope was strong in the breast of every man of the
two crews. At last, when May came, Lieutenant
Graham Gore and Mr. F. Des Veeux, with six men,
left the ships for land. This party placed a record in
a cairn beyond Cape Victory, on the west coast of
King William’s Land. It records :—‘“‘ On May 24th,
1847, all were well on board the ships, and that
Sir John Franklin still commanded.” Hurrah! a
little week, and they will be back with their fellows,
with the news of the long-desired shores of Ame-
rica! But what is that. they learn on their return?
News that may well chill the blood of the stoutest
heart. Franklin lays on his death-bed! That good
and great man, that mighty explorer, in that little
ship, far away from home, is about to yield up his
spirit to Him who gave it! Why, the prize is within
view, almost within grasp. It must not be. Death
142 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

has claimed that veteran for his own! The North-
West Passage was discovered. _ Franklin in his last
hour knew that, though his body was interred within
the Frozen regions, his country would not forget to
honour his memory. Forget to honour? Never.
While sterling worth is prized, virtue revered, heroism
valued, that good and great name of Franklin shall
be first. in the temple of fame!

The bell tolls —the funeral cortége slowly and
solemnly leaves the vessels ; Fitzjames reads the burial
service ; and then, amid the suppressed sobs of those
hardy men, the remains of Sir John Franklin are
committed to the ice stream. He, the head of the
expedition—its life and soul, is gone! What shall
those mariners do now? Autumn has come, but the
future does not seem bright or cheery. The Pacific
is still far away. The Great Fish River, their next
hope, is fraught with dangers, and, sad to say, the pro-
visions will soon be exhausted, and scurvy has already
made its dreaded and loathsome appearance. Dreary
days and weeks pass, but there is no water: ice, ice—
everywhere ice. Oh! for ninety miles of water, and
those brave, much-enduring men are saved. If not—
why, death, slow, lingering, torturing death, surely
awaits them. But see, the ice moves !—slowly, but
still it moves. Ten miles, twenty miles—why, there
are only sixty miles remaining, and then they are
saved! But what is this—the new ice forming?
Even so; the terrible winter has once more set in!
SUFFERINGS OF THE VOYAGERS. 1438

That dreaded winter of 1847 and 1848, and those
ships yet so far from succour. There are many warm
beating hearts at home, anxiously waiting for any ray
of intelligence of the far-off mariners; but a kind
Providence shields them from an actual knowledge of
the disease, suffering, and death which press those
brave men down. The horrors of that winter will
never be told to mortal ear.

The spring of 1848 comes. There are nine officers
and twelve men missing—where are they? Sleeping
the long quiet sleep of death. And the 104 poor
mortals that now huddle together are surely more
dead than alive. Gaunt famine is there in their
midst. They intend to make one more effort—the
Great Fish River is still open to them. There is now
no other hope. They must either quit the ships or
die. Better to meet death trying to save their lives,
even if they should not succeed. Sledges are pre-
pared, and loaded with whale-boats, clothing, guns,
powder and shot, and provisions for forty days; and
the ships are at last abandoned. Sad to relate, how-
ever, the sledges progressed only fifteen miles in
three days. The men had not calculated their dimi-
nished strength, or surely they would not thus have
loaded their sledges? When the nearest point of
land is gained—Port Victory—the exhausted ma-
riners cast away pick-axes, shovels, rope, blocks,
clothing, stores, sextants, quadrants, oars, and medi-
cine chest. A record had been left here in the pre-
144 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

vious year by the gallant Gore ;—round its margin
Captain Fitzjames wrote a few mournful words, by
which we learn all we ever can learn of this heart-
rending history.

Another halt is made halfway between Cape Vic-
tory and Cape Herschel. Here one of the boats
turns to the northward, the rest push on. Two
skeletons were afterwards found in that boat, and
the Esquimaux found the bones of a “large man
with big bones” on one of the ships—he had evi-
dently returned to die. The others, with incredible
labour, reach Cape Herschel, placing in its cairn the
last record which gives us the only information of
their sad position. A few miles further ‘south, and
one more victim falls. His comrades cannot stop to
bury him; their own lives are in imminent peril.
Speedily are they to be yielded to the rigours of
that desolate country. The Esquimaux report that
about forty white men were seen one spring drag-
ging a boat and sledges; and that afterwards the
bodies of thirty men and some graves were disco-
vered at the entrance of the Great Fish River. It
was there the last man of the expedition lay down in
the arms of death. And so ended the crews of the
“ Erebus” and “ Terror.”

And now, the reader asks, where is all this infor-
mation obtained? Surely he does not suppose that
England would quietly forget the mariners sent out
at her bidding—would make no effort to ascertain
DEVOTION OF LADY FRANKLIN. 145

their fate? Men of science, -with the great Hum-
boldt at their head ; our own Queen, and the Empress
of the French, stimulated the cry of rescue—if haply
those men of the “ Erebus ”’ and “ Terror” yet lived.
Expedition after expedition went out during eleven
long years; yet, up to 1854, no information of Sir
John or his brave companions was obtained. There
was now no hope that the dread problem would ever
be solved. Hope was revived, however, by the return
of Dr. Rae, who brought information that the bodies
of forty men had been discovered at the mouth of the
Great Fish River. Esquimaux had been met,
who said that two ships had been wrecked on the
coast of King William’s Land—the very spot which
had not been explored by any of the searching par-
ties. . The Government was appealed to for one more
expedition, but the prayer was resolutely refused.
Brave Lady Franklin determined at any cost, how-
ever, to know the fate of her husband. Only partial
success followed an appeal made to the public; she
resolved, therefore, to sell all her available property
and to retire into humble lodgings, in order that she
might be enabled to purchase and equip with stores
the little yacht, the “Fox,” to send to King Wil-
liam’s Land. In 1857 it sailed under the command
of Captain M‘Clintock, who was surrounded by a
crew of twenty-five stout-hearted men. It was not
until the February of 1859, after incredible dangers,
that the captain and officers of the “ Fox” were

L
146 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

enabled to commence their search on King William’s
Land. Then, by. well-ordered sledge parties, point
after point was traced, and this sad mournful history
unfolded.

And now, shall we not be the better for knowing
the career of Sir John Franklin, and.the mournful
fate of the crews of the “Erebus” and “ Terror?”
In the times of our tribulation and sorrow, will not
their example rise up before us, prompting us in
every season of difficulty and danger to quit us like
men—to remember that sacred word duty, and per-
form it conscientiously wherever our lot may be cast?
We may never visit the Arctic seas, never be called
to “ go down to the sea in. ships ;” but in the busy
city, in the quiet of the rural village, in the retire-
ment of our own homes, there are duties which, if
truly done, will ennoble us to all eternity in the eye
of Him who “seeth in secret.” Those brave ice-
bound men did their duty faithfully, the relation of
whose sufferings will thrill the hearts of England’s
sons to the latest generation as a brilliant instance of
patience, of suffering, and of much endurance,



































































WILLIAM SHAW LINDSAY.

A POOR FRIENDLESS ORPHAN, CABIN-BOY, GREAT
SHIPOWNER, AND MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT.



Tue day of wonders is not past. The times in which

.we live are as remarkable as at any period of the
world. We are living amongst men whose history is
as marvellous as any that the past has emblazoned on
the roll of fame—whose adventures and achievements
are more extraordinary than the strangest imaginings
of the novelist and romancist, and which will be cited,
centuries hence, as the most notable wonders of the
nineteenth century.

Such instances, after furnishing a theme for amuse-
ment and a subject for astonishment, produce little
permanent good, unless we are excited to imitate, to
some extent, exemplars of so famous a kind. If the
instances of men rising in the world are allowed to
have their proper effect, and are appreciated to their
full value, what will be the result? We shall see
youths, who are now friendless, fighting their way in
the world, sure, ultimately, of securing the aid and
sympathy of kind and good men; we shall see the
student, almost in despair at his small mental pro-

L2
148 WILLIAM SHAW LINDSAY.

gress, still persevering, and finally achieving a position
of honour, if not of fame; we shall see the working-
man, toiling from early morn to dewy eve, for a
wretched pittance, it may be; still toiling on, and one
day earning a position of competence and ease; we
shall see the tradesman, sadly distressed at his bad
trade, and at the prospect of engagements which he
cannot meet, still holding on in faith and honour, and
finally standing erect among his fellows, promoted
probably to municipal or national honours; we shall
see, if we do not see these sight-worthy things, youths
and young men, now comparatively ignorant and un-
informed, progressing in intelligence, and to that
respectability which may be enjoyed by the poorest
wayfarer as well as the richest. It is not given to
every one, toil as he may, to be rich or famous ; it is
possible for every one, however, to be respected for
probity and honour; to be useful, and therefore have
mental satisfaction in living; to be industrious, and
therefore independent of the dolements of charity.
And this may be done, however wretched the circum-
stances by which we are surrounded. But example is
greater than precept. Learn, then, from the life of
William Shaw Lindsay, and be wise.

William was born in Ayr, in Scotland, in 1816, and
was left an orphan when he was six years old. From
that time until he was fifteen he was dependent upon
friends for the merest subsistence. When he was
fifteen he determined to make a start on his own
AN UNPROPITIOUS BEGINNING. 149

account, He had at that time three shillings and six-
pence, saved from gifts of half-pence. His intention,
on starting, was to go to sea, where he had no doubt
he should make his fortune. Liverpool presenting
greater facilities for obtaining a berth on board ship
than any port in Scotland, he determined to go there.
But he could not part with his three and sixpence—
it was his all, and what should he do without
money in that great sea-port? Could he not
work his passage over? Work! why what work
could he do? A boy of fifteen — never at sea
before; was he not. very likely to be ill on the
passage, and therefore utterly useless? Well, but he
could try. The captain readily agreed, upon con-
dition of his trimming the coal on board the steamer.
Horrible passage it must have been to the poor boy,
shut up amid the dust and heat of the boiler-room,
experiencing the sensations of a first voyage! But
the work had been undertaken, and it must be done.
At last the steamer was moored alongside the mag-
nificent docks of the Mersey, and William was free to
step on shore. But where should he go? “ The
world was all before him, where to choose.” Among
the tens of thousands of human beings threading the
streets and quays of that busy mart of industry, there
was none to whom he could apply—none who could
be said to feel any interest in his living or dying. The
three and sixpence was soon exhausted—carefully
stored as it might be. It served for three weeks to
keep soul and body together, and then utter starvation
150 WILLIAM SHAW LINDSAY.

stared him in the face. For the next four weeks William
had actually to sleep in the streets, and in the dock
sheds, wherever a corner presented itself likely to be
undisturbed. His food, meanwhile, was the bread ot
charity, thrown to him by those moved by the depth
of misery exhibited in his woe-begone appearance.
At length, after these dreadful seven weeks had
elapsed, hope dawned and the prospect brightened.
He was fortunate enough to be engaged as a cabin-boy
on board the “ Isabella,” West Indiaman; but such
was the treatment which boys on ship-board then
received, that it is questionable if he had much im-
proved his position, bad as it was on the quays and in
the sheds of Liverpool. But William had within him
a spirit that would not be subdued by hardships—
while he had life he would still hope on, trusting the
future, and doing his best in the present. His good
sense told him that his only hope of rising would be
by attaining a knowledge of the duties of a seaman ;
that if he was content merely to labour, he would, of
necessity, be a drudge all his life. So steadily and
industriously had he employed every moment in learn-
ing the various duties of a seaman, that he was found
competent to be appointed to the position of second
mate, to which office he was actually promoted within
three years of joining the vessel, as we have seen, in
the humblest capacity! But as if Fortune was jealous
of his rising prospects, in the very first year of his
elevation he was shipwrecked, when both his legs and
one arm were broken! The days and weeks that he
ACTIVE SERVICE AT SEA. 151.

lay in his sad mutilated condition, he would no doubt
devote to the study of navigation. This probably was
the reason why the next year he was promoted to the
office of chief mate. That office necessitates a know-
ledge and responsibility equal to that of the captain.
How assiduously and diligently William acquired that
knowledge, under the immense difficulties of his posi-
tion, it is surely not difficult to surmise. But, strange
to say, in 1836, two years after, when he was only in
his nineteenth year, he was appointed to the command
of the “ Olive Branch,” which command he held until
1840. When his vessel was in the Persian Gulf, in
1839, he nearly lost his life in a hostile encounter,
when he was cut down by a sabre-stroke across the
breast; but he killed his assailant by a pistol shot.
In 1841 William retired from the sea, on being
appointed agent for the Castle-Eden Coal Company.
During the discharge of his duties his active tempera-
ment prompted him to take some steps towards making
Hartlepool an independent port, which result he finally
achieved ; then, docks and wharves had to be formed,
towards which he rendered material assistance. Pro-
bably finding Hartlepool too limited for his desires,
in 1845 he removed to London—that E/ Dorado of
all aspiring spirits—where he was successful in laying
the foundation of a business of immense magnitude,
and which fairly entitles him to take his position in
the foremost rank of the first merchants in the world.
But, absorbing as his occupations had then become,
152 WILLIAM SHAW LINDSAY.

he did not forget the importance of the cultivation of
his mind. His rise thus far had been entirely owing
to his self-improvement ; if he hoped to rise still higher
it must be by the same means. His evening hours,
which tens of thousands waste in sheer idleness and
dissipation, he sedulously devoted to the attainment
of a general education, which had bee denied him in
his youth. The information thus acquired has been
of the greatest service to him in his subsequent plans
and projects. It has enabled him, during his career,
to publish various pamphlets and letters on questions
related to the shipping interest, and a more durable
work, entitled, “ Our Navigation and Mercantile
Marine Laws,” which will no doubt remain the
permanent record on the subject.

We are now to imagine him, by dint of perse-
verance and industry, arrived at the proud position
of being recognised as one of the largest shipowners
and shipbrokers in the kingdom, when he determined
to enter Parliament, soliciting, in the first instance
the suffrages of the electors of Monmouth and Dart-
mouth in 1852, but by reason of aristocratic influ-
ence, and, it is said, by other means less honourable,
he was rejected by both places. Of course William
Lindsay did not know the meaning of the word
“fail,” and therefore looked upon his rejection as
merely delaying a consummation which he had de-
termined to achieve. He would ultimately succeed,
although he should in his efforts experience twenty
EXTENSIVE OPERATIONS. 153

cefeats. He had determined upon one thing, how-
ever—that his success, whenever it might come,
should only be the result of purity of election, and
the true unwavering declaration of his principles.
In 1854 he became a candidate for Tynemouth,
when, after a severe contest, he was elected by a
narrow majority of seventeen. But in the election
of 1857 he was again returned without opposition.

During the contest at Dartmouth Mr. Lindsay
gave the electors an account of his interesting career,
as well as some information relative to the transac-
tions of the firm of which he was the head. We
learn from his statements that at that time he owned
twenty-two large first-class ships; and that he had,
as an underwriter, in his individual capacity, during
the past year, insured risks to the amount of
£2,800,000. And that the firm of W. 8. Lindsay
and Co., of Austin Friars, ship and insurance
brokers, had during the same year chartered 700
ships to all parts of the world; and, as contractors,
had shipped 100,000 tons of coals and 150,000 tons
of iron; whilst as brokers, during the famine year,
their operations had extended to 1,200,000 quarters
of grain.

In the election of 1859 Lindsay was returned for
Sunderland, which place, let us hope, he will long
continue to represent in the House of Commons;
in addition to which he has been appointed a magis-
trate for Middlesex.
154 WILLIAM SHAW LINDSAY.

Can we now, in this hasty glance at the career of
William Lindsay, realise the two extremes in the
life of that extraordinary man? First, the poor
orphan boy shovelling coals in the hold of the
steamer crossing the Irish Channel in lieu of pay-
ment of the passage-money, and then seven weeks’
weary wandering from ship to ship in the fruitless
hope of being taken on board as a cabin-boy—with-
out food, without rest—save such as could be ob-
tained on door steps, or laying on the merchandise
under the sheds by the docks. That is one extreme ;
now look at the other. Author, magistrate, member
of Parliament, millionaire! Why it seems a fable—
it seems too improbable to be true; but it is true,
nevertheless. And what are the means by which
these two extremes have been bridged—by which the
forlorn orphan has become the man of influence and
honour? It is the old watchword, “ Labour.” No-
thing is achieved without it—everything is achieved
with it. William did not inherit a business which
had been the result of many years’ growth; he had
no fortune left him, and had not had any education
upon which he might start with a fair prospect of
success. It is impossible to conceive a condition in
society lower down from which tostart. But labour,
the talisman of labour, effected the change. Heart-
ache, headache, and body-ache, no doubt, were often
experienced ; but, for all that, on William would go.
The goal he had determined upon he would attain,
HIS SELF-RELIANCE AND SUCCESS, 155

or die on the road. He never entertained a thought
of giving up, or failing. He made up his mind to
succeed, and succeed he has in a manner which re-
flects the utmost honour upon his name.

And now William Lindsay furnishes to every de-
sponding youth an extraordinary stimulus. for effort
and exertion. Is there any one whose eye will
glance on these pages who can ever be called upon
to make a start in life Jower down than the one from
which he started? And if he succeeded, surrounded
by circumstances of such a discouraging character,
what youth or man shall give up in despair? Talk
not of giving up, talk not of going on, but go on, and
success shall surely crown the effort.
156

JOSEPH HUME:

SON OF A POOR FISHERMAN, POLITICAL ECONOMIST,
; AND MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT.



Lert the reader imagine himself a few years younger,
and that he is seated in the gallery of the House
of Commons listening to a debate on the “ Ways
and Means.” The speaker occupying the “ear” of
the House is the gifted Lord Stanley (now Earl of
Derby). He is succeeded by a broad-shouldered,
plain-looking man, who rises slowly, deliberately
taking off his hat, which is filled with papers, and
commences a speech in a strong harsh voice. It is
evident he cares nothing for the construction or the
delivery of his sentences, he is only anxious that the
facts and figures contained in his pile of papers shall
be contrasted with the brilliant statements of the
speaker who has just sat down. That is Joseph
Hume — aman that the country had need to re-
member for his untiring devotion to its interests, and
whose example may well cheer and encourage the
poor and the lowly in their efforts to succeed and
rise in the world. He is a self-made man. A de-
termined will has been the principal. agent in enabling
HIS HUMBLE ORIGIN. 157

him to attain his proud position amongst the fore-
most men of his country, who have raised her in the
estimation and respect of neighbouring nations.

And who is Joseph Hume? It is true we can
find his name in connection with every important
political event during the last thirty or forty years,
but further back we cannot go, unless we leave the
senatorial halls and betake ourselves to Montrose,
in Scotland, where Joseph was born. There,
amongst the fishermen, we may learn something of
the father of our hero, who in 1777 was the master
of a small fishing vessel, in which year the future
political economist was born. When very young he
was taken out to sea to render service to his father
in the capacity of a ship-boy. He must indeed have
been very young when he entered upon this rough
duty, as his father died before he had attained his
tenth year. . What impression was made upon his
mind by Captain Hume we have no means of ascer-
taining. We do not know whether the captain was
respected amongst his compeers as a steady and in-
dustrious man ; if this was so, he died too early to
make much impression upon the mind of his son.
Happily for that son his mother was a true-hearted,
excellent woman. Left in very humble circum-
stances, with a large family depending on her exer-
tions, she manifested an amount of energy and
ability which entitle her to be ranked as one of the
good and excellent mothers to whom England is so
158 JOSEPH HUME.

much indebted for her greatness. Her first business
on the death of her husband was to open a little
shop, with the hope of providing needful food for her
children. But she also knew that, however necessary
food is at the present, education is equally needful in
the future. She knew that, —

*“* Though house and land be never got,
Learning can give what they cannot ;”

and thus determined that her children should have
“some schooling.” When the poor widow could
manage it, she sent Joseph to a school in Montrose.
He no doubt was duly impressed with the fact, that
attention to his studies was his only hope; he became
therefore so sedulous a student that he soon attracted
the attention of the Montrose people by his activity
and intelligence. He only remained at school, how-
ever, until he was thirteen, when he was placed with
a surgeon of his native town, with whom he remained
three years. Then, having by experience known the
value of knowledge, he was sent to the University of
Edinburgh, where his persevering industry enabled
him to graduate as a member of the College of Sur-
geons within three years. His first engagement on
leaving college was as an assistant-surgeon in one of
the East India Company’s vessels; afterwards he
made a second voyage to India—this time as a pro-
perly certificated surgeon. Between the voyages,
ardently anxious for all the information obtainable to
PROFESSIONAL ADVANCEMENT. 159

render him perfect in his profession, he attended the
London hospitals, and became a member of the
London College of Surgeons. Thus, before his
twenty-third year, he was appointéd assistant-surgeon
to the Indian army. Before many men have put off
their boyish habits, and thought of the future with
all its earnest concerns, Joseph had not only fully
equipped himself, but entered on the battle; and, as
he did so, it was with no coward aim—he determined
to succeed. In 1799 he joined the medical establish-
ment in Bengal, where he rapidly. attained a position
of eminence by his industry and perseverance.

When Hume arrived in India the Mahratta war
was in progress. The officers of the native regi-
ments had contracted habits which reflected no credit
upon them, and which certainly unfitted them for
studying the languages of the people amongst whom
they were called to live. Hume knew that if he
meant to succeed, it would be by a practice directly
the opposite. The first and most needful thing was
temperance ; he had the good sense to make it the
rule and practice of his life. He knew, also, the evil
results of improvidence—hence he became careful
and methodical in his accounts—he knew the extent
of his resources, and how he expended them. Anxious
to understand the people of the country he deter-
mined to master. their languages, which he was
enabled to do, notwithstanding the engrossing duties
of his profession. His temperatice enabled him to
160 JOSEPH HUME.

retain his health, amid a climate which is usually
deemed so prejudicial to European constitutions ; by
his method and system he commended himself to the
notice of his superiors; by his study and diligence in
the acquirement of the Persic language, he then laid,
all unknown to himself, the foundation of a splendid
fortune. We have seen, thus far, that chance or
patronage had nothing to do with the progress of
Joseph Hume. So far, it has been temperance, per-
severance, and hard work— qualities which will make
a man in Old England as well as in India,

When Hume had been four short years in India,
the only proficient interpreter, Colonel Achmuty,
became, through illness, unable to perform the duties
of the office. In the emergency Hume volunteered
his services, which, upon trial, were found so pro-
ficient, that he received the appointment of interpreter
of that division of the army to which he was attached.
And then his services as surgeon had been found so
efficient, that he was elected as the chief medical
officer of the staff. These two offices entailed an im-
mense amount of labour—under the great heat of the
climate, more than one man could sustain—it would
so have been considered. But Joseph Hume did not
think even these labours sufficient. He became pay-
master and postmaster also; all of which duties he
performed faithfully and efficiently. _And when diffi-
culties arose in regard to the supplies of the army, he
undertook to furnish the needed commodities, which
ELECTED MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT, 161

he did with satisfaction to the commanders, and with
great pecuniary profit to himself. His profits were
so great that in 1808 he returned to England a rich
man, after a residence in the east of only nine years.
On his return, like most other visitors to India, he
sought the air and baths of Cheltenham and Bath, to
counteract any disease which he might have imbibed
during his residence abroad. But, thanks to temper-
ance and industry, he found himself in perfect health,
and soon therefore became dissatisfied with the
monotony of those fashionable towns. As he had
previously determined to enter Parliament, he deemed
it advisable to perfect himself for the duties of the
House by travel, and by the augmenting of his general
knowledge. The next four years he devoted to
travelling through Spain, Portugal, Sicily, Sardinia,
Turkey, Egypt, Greece, Malta, and the Ionian Islands.
He arrived in Portugal soon after the army of Wel-
lington had driven the French beyond its frontier.
He had not intended remaining in Portugal more than
a few days, but the glory of the British arms over-
came his intention, and induced him to visit all the
spots which had been made famous by the prowess
and bravery of British soldiers. On his return from
this interesting tour, he sought to fulfil his original
intention of obtaining a seat in the House of Com-
mons. A vacancy had occurred in the representation
of Weymouth by the death of Sir John Johnstone,
and Mr. Hume was selected to fill his place. He

M
162 JOSEPH HUME.

continued to represent Weymouth until the dissolu-
tion of Parliament, which was in six months after
his entrance. But limited as the period was, Mr.
Hume made himself known, and had become a power
in the House. The first speech he made in Parlia-
ment was in favour of education. He gave it as his
opinion that education was the moral preservative
against crime; and sustained this opinion’ by a
reference to the fact, that “the commitments and
executions in England and Scotland, respectively,
are in inverse proportion to their educational condi-
tion.” In the last month of the session Mr. Hume
opposed a Dill, which, if it had been carried, would
have put an end to the Nottingham hosiery trade.
At the time, he sat with the ministry who. had
brought in the bill; he communicated, however, his
distrust of the measure to those who sat with. him,
who did not satisfy his scruples, but expressed
astonishment that he could think of opposing a
ministerial measure. What was that tohim? The
question for him to consider was—is it right the bill
should pass ?—is it a just bill? The party by whom
the bill was brought in was altogether another ques-
tion. Greatly astonished was that party when, upon
the third reading, Joseph Hume got up to oppose it.
It was quite useless to tell him there was no prece-
dent for such a course—there ought to have been a
precedent, the want should remain no longer—he
would create one. His opposition was unavailing in
HIS MARRIAGE. 163

the Commons, but the Lords rejected the measure.
No doubt Hume materially contributed to this result.
His speech on the third reading of the bill was priited
and circulated by the Nottingham and Leicester
manufacturers, while public meetings were held to
thank him for his zeal on behalf of their interests.
No doubt his independence, and the habit which he
had contracted of thinking for himself, lost him his
seat for Weymouth; for at the next election his
services were declined,

In Parliament or out of Parliament he must be at
work—that was a law which had become part of his
nature. His next field of labour was the East India
House, and his first work there was to oppose the
grant of £20,000 to Lord Melville, for services
rendered by his father! One of the East Indian
proprietors, of the name of Burnley, was so impressed

_with the zeal and intelligence of Hume that he in-
vited him to his house, and ultimately gave him his
daughter in marriage—a union which resulted in
’ much happiness. A most united and happy family
of three sons and four daughters was the fruit of the
marriage. For the next six years Mr. Hume devoted
himself to the promotion of popular education, the
establishment of savings’ banks, and especially to the
formation of schools upon the Lancasterian plan.

In 1818 he was returned by the Aberdeen district
of royal burghs to the new Parliament. These burghs
included Montrose—the place of his birth, which he:

M 2
164 JOSEPH HUME.

had quitted only twenty years before without in-
fluence, without money—with nothing, in fact, but
determination and a good constitution. It would
have rejoiced the heart of the poor widow, his
mother, to have seen that day all the result of her
self-denial in sending her son to school.

In this sketch of the life of Joseph Hume, it is not
intended to notice particularly his political course of
action in the British Parliament; and yet without
some general reference it is impossible for the reader
to form a true estimate of his character. He was,
then, an economist, in the true sense. All through
his long life he was concerned specially with the
expenditure of the public funds. He knew the diffi-
culties under which the people laboured to pay the
taxes; he made it the business of his life therefore,
as far as he possessed the power, to prevent their
wasteful expenditure. And if he was not at all times
successful, he had the satisfaction of knowing that
“he did what he could.” One or two references will
possess the reader with the mode in which Hume
sought to attain his object. On the 22nd of February
Lord Castlereagh proposed a grant of £10,000 a-year
to the Duke of York as custos of the afflicted king.
This Hume opposed; he would never sit quietly
down without protesting against such a measure.
And on the 8th of June, in order to reduce the
burden of taxation, he suggested that the Civil List
of £1,200,000, should be reduced to £900,000; and,
AS A PRACTICAL ECONOMIST. 165

as a further means of reducing taxation, that the
utmost economy should be observed in relation to the
army, which had consumed upon it large sums of
public money, in gorgeous trappings and useless gold.
lace.

On the 27th of February, 1822, the ministers
imagined that they had discovered considerable dis-
crepancy in the estimates and statements of Hume,
but which was found to have no other grounds than
that of their own imagination. Brougham said, on
that occasion, “ He would continue to Mr. Hume his
full reliance, because he had never yet found him fail
in what he had undertaken to establish ; and be-
cause on this occasion, when his aceuracy was especi-
ally impeached, he had signally triumphed. He hoped
he would go on with the same persevering zeal for
the public good, careless of the taunts of those who
profited by abuses, forgetful of the neglect shown to
his labours by the gentlemen opposite, thinking only
of his country, dreaming only of his duty, and, great
as his services were to that country, still laying up
additional claims to gratitude.”

Another member said: “He recollected when Mr.
Hume first began that course of conduct which he
had pursued with so much success, every possible
attempt, short of absolute insult, was made to deter
him from proceeding. Sarcasm and imputation of
every sort were directed against him. Before the
end of the session, however, those very individuals
166 JOSEPH HUME.

who had treated him in this manner came to him,
cap in hand, and offered every assistance in further-
ance of his designs.”

In 1830 the electors of Middlesex returned Hume
to Parliament as their representative-—an honour
which they re-conferred upon him in the following
year; but in 1826 they rejected him, and elected in
his place a Colonel Wood, who, up to that period,
was unknown. ‘The instant that his rejection became
known the inhabitants of Kilkenny triumphantly
returned him as their member, when he resumed his
work in Parliament with his aceustomed ardour. In
the election of 1841 he was invited to stand for
Leeds, but, strange to say, a young nobleman, totally
unknown in the political world, was preferred before
him, so that he was left without a seat in the new
Parliament. At the election however, which shortly
followed, he was returned for his native place, which
he represented to the time of his death.

Of course, Joseph Hume, with all his labour for
the good of his country, did not pass through his long
useful life without meeting with much opposition.
Had he have done so, he would have furnished the
one single exception to universal experience. He,
however, met. with probably more than his shere of
virulent. personality——no inuendo or slander was
deemed unfitting to be apphed to him. But what
did that matter? Let men disgrace. themselves if
they so pleased; but clearly his course was to do
HIS METHOD AND INDUSTRY. 167

his duty ; glad of the smile of a friend, but fearless
of the frown of a foe.

Of one thing we may be quite sure—no man ever
worked harder than Joseph Hume. In addition to the
establishment, which he found it needful to keep in con-
stant activity, in which he had a set of clerks, equalling
the servants of a considerable merchant, his own per-
sonal labours were enormous, His habits for thirty
years were most unvarying. “Up in the morning
early,” was a necessity of his nature, as much as it was
needful for the work he set himself to do. After
breakfast he would be employed, up to the time of
going to the House of Commons, in writing letters, or
in arranging his papers and making his minute cal-
culations. This labour would frequently be disturbed
by deputations and business people, who were anxious
to consult the great economist. Frequently, itis said,
twenty such parties have waited his appearance from
his bed-room in the morning. When the House met,
Joseph Hume would certainly be among the earliest
members; and this would be the case notwithstanding
he might have passed the greater part of the day m
one of the committee rooms. ifthe House sat, as it
sometimes did sit, until three o’clock in the morning,
he would be sure to be among the remaining members.
Protracted as the hour might be, he would quietly let
himself into his home, and sit down to his desk, not
rising until he had finished a tray full of letters, to be
168 JOSEPH HUME.

posted early in the morning. This was the course
and work of every day.

It is evident, then, that labour was the great secret
of Joseph Hume’s success. Labour, as we have seen,
of a most extraordinary kind. Indeed, men that have
been celebrated for the amount of work they could
accomplish, have felt quite ashamed in the presence
of his efforts. While they, in the prosecution of any
labour, have felt their energies relax, demanding
cessation and rest; he, on the contrary, has seemed
as fresh as if the work was only just commencing.
There is one notable fact on record very confirmatory
of his watchfulness: it is said that he never was
detected asleep in the House of Commons but once—
a circumstance so extraordinary as to excite the atten-
tion of Sir Robert Peel, who was speaking at the time.
Joseph opened his eyes on the instant, saying, “ How
can I possibly help it, if you will spin out such an
argument for a couple of hours ?”

No doubt intense labour and protracted watchful-
ness can be borne by no constitution with impunity ;
and this Hume found out to his cost. Scarcely a
parliamentary session closed without his being laid up
for one 6r two weeks. This would have happened
more frequently, only that he exercised care and
watchfulness over his general health. Fortunately
for himself and his country, his habits were simple
and temperate. Indeed, so little did he think of his
PRACTICAL “COMMON SENSE. 169

meals, that the hour would have frequently passed
unless he had been reminded of them, so completely
absorbed was he in the work in which he was en-
gaged.

There is an anecdote related of his self-possession
and fearlessness, which is very characteristic of the
man. He was, at the time of the incident, on board
a small packet off the coast of Scotland, when the
weather became very boisterous; the captain was
either frightened, or was incompetent for his position.
In the dilemma, which promised only death to the
passengers, Hume demanded to see the charts, which
were freely given up to him, as well as the entire
command of the vessel. He soon ascertained that
the course of the vessel was wrong, and immediately
changed it. No doubt he thus saved his own life and
those of all on board. When the danger was over he
went quictly into the cabin, got some paste, and re-
paired the charts which had been much torn and
abused.

Mr. Hume’s health began to break soon after the
session of 1854: he died at Burnley Hall, his seat in
Norfolk, on the 20th of February, 1855. At the
time of his death he was a magistrate for Norfolk,
Westminster, and Middlesex, and a deputy-lieutenant
for the latter county.

As a proof of the general esteem in which he was
held in the House of Commons, speakers belonging
to all parties, took the opportunity presented by his
170 JOSEPH HUME.

death, to pay a just tribute of respect to his memory
—a tribute in which the reader will surely join on
reading the story of his life. It is to such men that
England owes her greatness, more than to her
material wealth or geographical position; and while
she numbers amongst her sons men like Joseph
Hume, labouring earnestly and laboriously in her
interest, without fee or money reward, she must be,
as ever, great among the nations.
WILLIAM DARGAN:

FARMER’S BOY, RAILWAY CONTRACTOR, AND FOUN-
DER OF THE IRISH INDUSTRIAL EXHIBITION.

In the year eighteen hundred and fifty-three, Dublin
was the centre of attraction, not only for the inha-
bitants of the United Kingdom, but for the residents
of the most distant countries. The object of such
unusual interest was a marvellous palace that had
been erected in Merrion Square: in every respect a
worthy successor of the “ World’s Fair,’ held in
Hyde Park. It was a glorious sight on a fine sunny
afternoon. Then the world of rank and fashion, of
which Dublin so proudly boasts, mingled with the
visitors. Melodious sounds from the magnificent
organ peeled through the lofty arches; while all
around were placed the most beautiful objects of art
tastefully blended, suggesting incantation as the
medium of its production rather than that which it
really was—the slow outgrowth of labour, the product
of matured thought, and the development of human
intellect.

In some things the Dublin Exhibition could not
be compared to the Hyde Park Exhibition; in one
172 WILLIAM DARGAN.

particular it was its superior. The latter exhibition
was the work of the nation—the former the concep-
tion and the work of man. Prince Albert, the Lords
andCommons, magistrates, and other official magnates,
had called to their councils the wise men of all the
earth to aid them in the erection of the Crystal
Palace, and in the completion of their design. That
which they so efficiently effected in their collective
capacity for England, William Dargan, almost alone,
completed for Ireland — a work, the magnitude of
which his countrymen are not likely soon to forget.
But who is William Dargan? He was born on
the 28th of February, 1799, of humble. parents, in
the county of Carlow, Ireland. In him we have
another instance of a man rising to wealth and dis-
tinction from comparative privation and obscurity.
His father, fortunately, sent him to a good school,
where no doubt he eagerly embraced the opportunity
thus presented to cultivate his mental powers. After
leaving school he was placed in a surveyor’s office,
where he was instructed in the rudiments of that
profession of which he subsequently became so great
an ornament. This was his only fortune. While
yet a youth, with this training, and an unimpeach-
able character, he crossed the Channel in the hope
of improving his fortune in England. He was first
employed under the great Telford, the constructor
for the Menai Bridge, and many other wonderful
and durable works throughout the kingdom. His
Kus RAILWAY CONTRACTS. 173

first employment was on the Holyhead Road, where
he attracted attention by his aptness and ability.
When that work was finished, he returned to Ire-
land, where he was fortunately engaged upon several
‘small undertakings, which enabled him to enter upon
more.important contracts. These small beginnings
led him on to his first great work—great in compa-
vison to anything upon which he had as yet been
engaged—the contract for the Howth Road. This
was finished to the satisfaction of all concerned.
Then the first railway in Ireland was to be con-
structed. Dargan during the Howth contract had
won for himself the friendship and esteem of those
who could assist him; and when the railway was
decided upon, they pointed him out as the right man
to bring the’ work to a successful issue. To Dargan,
therefore, was the important contract committed.
The confidence thus centred in him was not abused :
his promises were faithfully kept. No doubt at the
time when the Kingstown and Dublin Railway was
constructed many formidable difficulties presented
themselves ; they were, however, overcome in a most
brilliant manner, the railway to this day remaining
a model of engineering skill and enterprise. During
its formation Dargan introduced a new order of
treatment in relation to his workmen. His plan was
prompt payment and liberal wages, a course which
secured him the willing services of the best obtain-
able workmen. While other contractors in various
174 WILLIAM DARGAN.

parts of the kingdom have been subjected to the
annoyance of “strikes,” with the exception of small
émeutes, scarcely to be taken into consideration,
Dargan has ever worked with his men peacefully and
cheerfully. In this way, while benefitting the coun-
try with the works upon which they were employed,
a large amount of benefit has resulted to the la- ©
bourers themselves in the humane and Christian
treatment experienced at the hands of their master.
The next work undertaken by Dargan was the
formation of the Ulster Canal. This important con-
tract, owing to his admirable arrangements, was
completed within the specified time in a manner that
materially added to his growing reputation. The
formation of the Ulster, the Dublin and Drogheda,
the Great Southern and Western, and the Midland
Great Western Railways, followed in rapid succes-
sion. These various works extended to nearly one ©
thousand miles; while his completed canals, embank-
ments, tunnels, &c., amount to more than a hundred
miles! One of the secrets of Mr. Dargan’s success
is found in the admirable discrimination of character
with which he is gifted, and by which he is enabled
almost unerringly to select suitable persons to fill his
various offices of trust. The greatest amount of
order being observed, as regarded both work to be
accomplished, and a systematic disposal of time, he
has thus been enabled to complete his gigantic un-
dertakings, not only with great profit to himself, but
THE DUBLIN EXHIBITION. 175

to the satisfaction of all parties concerned. In
addition to the absorbing character of these works,
Mr. Dargan became a steamboat proprietor, a flax-
grower, and farmer—each interest sufficient to absorb
the time and energy of an ordinary man — but
Mr. Dargan: is not an ordinary man, and, therefore,
they were to him merely amusement for his lighter
hours. Be this as it may, it is an illustration of the
old saying—“ The more a man has to do, the more
he can do.”

But the great work, the work that redounds most to
his honour and credit, is the Dublin Exhibition of
1853. That vast undertaking was mainly carried to
its successful issue in consequence of the unbounded
confidence reposed m Mr. Dargan. . His name was
indeed a tower of strength. It wasa guarantee that
every promise made in connection with the building
would be completed; the result showed that the con-
fidence was not misplaced. Treasures of Art were
sent from all parts of the world, many of them never
having been previously out of their owners’ possession.
The Queen and Prince Albert were munificent con-
tributors, as well as the Emperor of the French, the
King of the Belgians, the King of Holland, and the
King of Prussia.

Marvellous as these works undoubtedly were, they
were not so pregnant with interest as the building in
which they were gathered, or as the man who originated
the building. Mr. Dargan, at the opening of the
176 WILLIAM DARGAN.

Cork Industrial Exhibition in 1852, conceived the
bold plan of erecting a building and carrying out the
details of an Exhibition in Dublin at his own sole
expense. His estimate in the first instance, was
£10,060, this was increased to £20,000, which sum
he placed in the hands of a committee, empowering
them to defray all the expenses of the Exhibition, upon
the one sole condition, that no begging-box should
be sent round for contributions. Any sums further
required he undertook to advance as the great under-
taking proceeded; and before the Exhibition was
opened in May, 1853, Mr. Dargan had advanced
nearly one hundred thousand pounds! Many per-
sons were desirous to assist the project with money,
but its liberal projector determined to run all risks
himself. The Exhibition was a great success, but
notwithstanding, Dargan was a loser when it finally
closed, of £18,980 18s. 3d.

Although his fellow citizens had been precluded
from incurring any pecuniary risks in the splendid
“exposition”? which had drawn tens of thousands of
visitors to Ireland, they determined not to allow the
occasion to pass without recording their high appre-
ciation of its founder. To this end a requisition for
a public meeting on the subject was headed by the
Duke of Leinster, forty peers, six prelates of the
Established Church, fifteen Roman Catholic bishops,
forty-nine Members of Parliament, and a host of the
professional mercantile, and trading classes. The
PROFFERED ROYAL FAVOURS, 177

result of the meeting, which was held in the Rotunda,
the greatest room in Ireland, was the proposition of a
National Gallery of Art, in Dublin, with which the
name and great public services of Mr. Dargan should
be permanently connected. That ‘ Irish Institution”
is, at the time we write, nearly completed. It is ap-
propriately erected on a portion of the ground occupied
by the Exhibition building.

The Queen and Prince Albert, ever alive to indi-
vidual worth, to self-sacrifice, and efforts of philan-
thropy, were anxious to mark their estimate of Mr.
Dargan’s noble efforts on the part of his country.
During their visit to the Exhibition they embraced
the opportunity of paying him a visit at his private
residence. This was a signal mark of royal favour 3
it was, however, well deserved. Mr. Dargan, in the
course of conversation with his friends, had expressed
a desire to possess the busts of the Queen and the
Prince ; this coming to the ear of her Majesty, she
immediately intimated her pleasure in presenting him
with the busts of herself and royal consort; and, as
a further gratifying consideration, requested him to
nominate an Irish sculptor to execute the royal com-
mission. An offer of knighthood made him by her
Majesty at the opening of the Exhibition, he re-
spectfully declined—he did not think that a title
could add to his means of usefulness, or that it was a
distinction which would improve him in public esti-
mation. This was the one act which has earned for

N
178 WILLIAM DARGAN.

him, for all time, the character of a true nobleman.
In declining knightly distinction, usually so ardently
desired, he proved that his work had been altogether
unselfish and patriotic. He was anxious that his
countrymen, by the exhibition of their industrial
products, should enter into a friendly competition
with the producers of other countries; the perma-
nent advantages of which would almost be incal-
culable. In successfully achieving that object, Mr.
Dargan had his reward. The smile of his Queen, the
approbation of his countrymen, would doubtless be a
source of unalloyed pleasure. But the work had not
been undertaken with that object. It was in the
higher appreciation of the industrial productions of
his countrymen, and in the opening of fresh sources
of employment, in which he sought his reward. And
surely he will not have laboured in vain !

The honours and distinctions so profusely paid to
Mr. Dargan have not vitiated his character. He still
preserves that simple, unaffected manner which
endears him to all with whom he comes in contact.
He has two designations of which he may well be
proud—* the workman’s friend,” and “ the man with
his hand in his pocket.” The former he well merits
by his just and wise dealings with the thousands of
artizans who have been in his employ ; the latter de-
signation originated in the statue of Dargan, de-
signed by Jones, in which he is represented with his
land in his pocket—an indication that he is always
THE USES OF EXAMPLE. 179

ready to spend his money freely when the good of his
country is likely to be the result. If Iveland had
possessed a dozen men with the spirit and enterprise
which are so characteristic of Dargan, tens of thou-
sands of Irishmen who have sought foreign lands for
the means of subsistence would now be usefully and
honourably employed in their own much cherished
and loved isle. Let us hope that the time will yet
come, when its people, instead of joining in the de-
vastating exodus going on from year to year, will be
employed in developing its wonderful resources, which
ought to make it one of the wealthiest and happiest
countries in the world.

All honour, then, to the name of William Dargan.
May the incidents of his life not only find a lodg-
ment in our memories, but may we, by embracing
every opportunity, imitate him in his life of useful-
ness; not anxious for show, glare, or glitter, but
envious of opportunities of personal service, and de-
sirous of rendering the intercourse with our fellow-
creatures the source of much wisdom, and the medium
of their present and permanent happiness.

ww
180

ABEL HEYWOOD:
WAREHOUSE BOY, THE GREAT NEWS-AGENT, AND
ALDERMAN.

Tux printing machine is one of the greatest of
modern wonders—great in its intricate adaptation of
parts, and in its influence upon social, intellectual,
and spiritual life. Day after day, the year round, it
throws off, with wondrous velocity, myriads of sheets
impressed with thoughts that will influence ages
yet unborn. Books, pamphlets, and newspapers, in
untold numbers, are thus almost literaily strewn,
broadcast over the earth.. And now, not only may
they read who run, but they that run may possess
the books they read. A collection of books, in the
middle ages deemed the most valuable of earthly
possessions, is now within the reach of every working
man. “ Thoughts that breathe and words that burn ”’
may companion the poorest at their daily toil. Mean
as the employment may be, poets and philosophers
will not refuse to hold communion with them, or to
make a paradise of their minds, converting their
hearts into chambers where peace and quiet have
taken up their abode.
WHAT THE NEWSPAPER PRESS WAS, 181

It is through the medium of the printing-machine,
also, that the thoughts of the wise and good in our
own day become universally diffused. However im-
portant a knowledge of ancient history may be
deemed, a knowledge of the present, which is the
history of our own time, is not less important. If it
is interesting to know what Rome was in the days of
Augustus, is it not equally so to know what Rome is
in 1860? The events which are transpiring day by day
form a prolific theme for the future historian, which
are recorded in the daily newspaper—accessible now
to the poor as to the rich. A very brief period has
elapsed since duties, stamps, bonds, and most galling
exactions were the only conditions upon which a
newspaper was suffered to exist. A few years ago a
newspaper, small in size and meagre in character,
surrounded with lets and hindrances, was sold for
sevenpence ; now, when the duties, bonds, and penal-
ties have been removed, newspapers four times the
size, and conducted with great ability, are sold for
one penny. But that boon was not obtained without
“fine and imprisonment.” Ignorance and interest
long stood in the way. A deviation from. the pre-
scribed path was followed by a Government prosecu-
tion; the result was months of wearisome lingering
in prison. It required nerve, resolution, and a great
consciousness of duty to incur these risks. If they
had not been incurred, however, we might still be
under the shadow of the weekly sevenpenny paper,
182 ABEL WEYWOOD.

instead of having our daily broad-sheets at a seventh
of the price. All honour, then, to the men who fought
this battle; in the foremost rank of which stood the
subject of our sketeh—Abel Heywood. .

He was born in the year 1810, in the pretty village
of Prestwich, about three miles from the City of
Manchester. His father was what is called a “ putter-
out”? for weavers. Unfortunately, he died when Abel
had attained his fifth year, leaving to his wife the
duty of providing for him and three other children
their daily bread. This task she set herself resolutely
to do, obtaining employment in knitting healds for
the manufacturers. The proceeds, if it enabled her
to provide her young dependants with food, was not
sufficient to enable her to give them very much edu-
cation : but as there was a British National School in
the village, the terms of which were not high, Abel
was permitted to attend. It was there he learned to
read and write ; but he hasno recollection of learning
anything of arithmetic or grammar. These studies
were probably deemed useless to the simple village
rustics. Heywood preserves a Bible to this day, pre-
sented to him in his seventh year at the school. In
his ninth year, however, this humble scholastic train-
ing came to an end; it was at that early period that
he commenced in earnest to play his part in the great
battle of life. His mother had in the meantime
changed her residence to Manchester, for the greater
convenience of herself and children in obtaining em-
FIRST EMPLOYMENT. 183

ployment, Prestwich being too small to keep the
family. In his search for work, Abel had one day
found out that a boy was wanted at the warehouse of
Thomas Worthington, High Street; but another boy,
also out of employ, had made the same discovery,
and applied for the situation at the same time. A
day’s trial was given to both boys, which resulted in
Abel’s obtaining the situation. The wages were only
one shilling and sixpence per week; and although
he stayed with the firm until his twentieth year, his
weekly wages were only sixteen shillings. In his
fourteenth year he attained to an office of trust: he
was appointed to superintend sixty boys who were
employed in the works, making up smallwares. This
was a post in which considerable firmness and activity
were required. Abel succeeded by system and per-
severance in reducing this comparative chaos into
order. The boys were induced to work in harmony,
and with such earnestness as to produce for their
employer a satisfactory result.

Abel’s Sundays were spent in the Sunday School.
He rose, in the Old Lion’s Hill school, from being a
scholar to a teacher; but his ability in this direction
could not have been very great, as he was subse-
quently only received as a scholar in Bennett Street—
the great Church school of Manchester. He left that
establishment under what he conceived an act of in-
justice. Prizes had been announced for the discovery
of parallel passages in the Old and New Testaments.
184 ABEL HEYWOOD.

Abel was quite elated at the discovery of a sentence
which he was certain must obtain a prize; to his
astqnishment, however, another boy in a class higher
in the school read out the very passage which he had
with so much labour selected! When it came to his
turn he could only read what had already been read.
Certainly, upon no principle of justice, the prize was
awarded to the first boy—his only merit over Abel
being that he had the opportunity of first reading
the passage. Abel could not brook this act of un-
fairness, and therefore left the school.

At the Lion’s Hill establishment the teachers had
commenced a week-night school, at which Abel at-
tended ; and when the Manchester Mechanics’ Insti-
tution was opened, which was when he had attained
his fifteenth year, he became an early member,
remaining one almost to the present time. Arith-
metic and mechanical drawing were the studies that
had the chief attraction for him. All through life,
indeed, his employments have been of a practical
character—dreaming is a luxury in which he never
indulges. In his twentieth year he lost his situation,
owing to his master, in a fit of choler, ordering
his discharge. The manager retained him for three
months after, but he was ultimately sent away, as the
master would not retract his unwisely-spoken word.
Thrown on his own resources, he cast about for
the means of living. He had previously observed,
with much satisfaction, the first experiment in open-
HIS IMPRISONMENT, 185

ing a penny news-room in Manchester; its success
determined him to open one in another locality. The
speculation was successful, but it was relinquished at
the end of nine months, on his being offered. the
agency of a paper called “The Poor Man’s Guardian,”
in which he was employed establishing agents in the
towns surrounding Manchester. He was induced,
also, in the January of 1832, to open a small shop in
Oldham Street for the retailing of the paper. In the
March following, however, he was served with six
summonses from the Excise. It was held that “The
Poor Man’s Guardian” was a newspaper within tlie
meaning of the Act; to sell it without a stamp was
therefore an infringement of the Excise. The magis-
trate, on the hearing of the case, fined Abel five
pounds and four pounds costs upon each summons,
making a total of fifty-four pounds ; in default of which
he was to be sent to prison for four months. Paying
the money in his then straitened circumstances was,
of course, out of the question. To prison therefore
he went. The offence was one not punishable by
hard labour, or, indeed, punishment of any kind, save
the heavy punishment of detention. But in prison or
out of prison a life of inaction to Abel was punishment
enough, At his solicitation the governor of the New
Bailey, Salford, where he was confined, employed him
as the “putter-out”? for the weavers, and other ar-
tizans, in the gaol. The greatest source of annoyance,
however, during his four months’ detention, was the
186 ABEL HEYWOOD.

constant sensation of hunger. He never felt that he
had had enough to eat. Once he was successful in
buying two small loaves from a prisoner who was about
to be discharged; the turnkeys observed the bread
under his dress, and reported the circumstance to the
governor. For this dereliction of duty he was con-
fined to the day-ward. On one occasion while there,
he was startled by the horrid ery of “ murder” from
the bail-yard, uttered in truly piteous and heart-
rending tones. For some act of insubordination the
breakfasts of the prisoners confined there had been
stopped. This to them, in their half-starved con-
dition, was an almost insupportable punishment.
They had actually drawn lots for one of their number
to be killed and eaten by the rest! The unfortunate
man upon whom the lot fell did not seem resigned to
his fate. After howling sufficiently to alarm the
whole prison he was assisted over the wall which
divides the wards, with the intention of informing the
governor. He told one of the turnkeys whom he
met that his comrades intended to kill and eat him.
Threatenings or entreaties were of no avail—he would
not go back. At last he was forced to the door,
which, when suddenly thrown open, disclosed the rest
of the prisoners, armed with knives and shears from
the weaving sheds, ready to pounce upon him.
“Send him in,” said they—* we’ll kill him, and eat
him too—we’re starving—we’re being murdered !”
When the governor was consulted, he promised the
MORE GOVERNMENT PROSECUTIONS. 187

men, if they would be quiet, that they should have,
at “ skilly” time, a double allowance. Peace was thus
restored. The man, it was understood, was to remain
uneaten by his comrades.

During Heywood’s incarceration his shop had been
attended by his mother and family, and the “ Poor
Man’s Guardian” still sold, although not so publicly
as previously. One of the means resorted to for its
sale was to open a cellar, which was attended by a
fresh salesman ever day, so that it was impossible to
fix upon any one the charge of selling the paper.
When Heywood was released from gaol he still con-
tinued its sale, for which he was, in 1834, subjected
to asecond prosecution. This time he did not go to
prison, but paid the fine, which, with the costs,
amounted to £18. In 1886, also, he was fined and
paid a second £18. It was this determined spirit,
which so generally possessed the working classes,
which ultimately resulted in the abolition of the
galling newspaper stamp. From the risks and results
of the contest, Heywood was not the man to flinch.
The Government, however, grew tired of prosecutions,
and sought to stay the sale of unstamped papers by seiz-
‘ing them in their transit. In this they were partially
defeated. The papers were sent from London
embedded in goods belonging to various tradesmen.
One week the “ Guardians” would arrive in a skip of
shoes directed to “Geo. Thompson, Shoemaker ;”
another week a groeer would be honoured with the
188 ABEL HEYWOOD.

parcel in a tea chest. Very frequently, however, the
police succeeded in entrapping the hated papers. In
1837 the Government wisely reduced the stamp upon
newspapers from fourpence toa penny. From that
time there was no further attempt to publish an un-
stamped newspaper.

Many parties, strange to say, found themselves
aggrieved by the bold stand which had been made by
the humble shopkeeper; they were determined, it
would seem, to lose no opportunity to crush him.
This opportunity, it was thought, had presented itself
when Heywood, in the usual course of his business,
sold a penny pamphlet, purporting to be a Letter to
the Bishop of Exeter, written by one Junius Haslem.
It was held that the pamphlet contained an irreverent
sentence, to issue which was a punishable offence.
Having a vivid recollection of his previous four
months’ incarceration, in which he suffered so severely
the pangs of hunger, he was determined that if he
must go to prison again he would not go alone. He
therefore caused copies of the works of a populer poet
to be purchased from the four principal booksellers in
Manchester, which contained passages more impious
than that which, in his instance, were complained of.
The grand jury, to whom the matter was submitted,
were of the same opinion. What was to be done?
If Heywood was sent to prison for two years, the
same penalty must be awarded to the other book-
sellers—a result by no means desired. Finally, on
EXCITING TIMES. i189

the part of Government, it was agreed that if Hey-
would would plead guilty, he should not be called up
for judgment. This course was very likely dictated
by the fact that Heywood was found to have the
sympathy of many influential men. Sir Charles
Shaw, Sir Thomas Potter, Joseph Brotherton, M.P.,
and Mark Phillips, M.P., all exerted themselves in
‘ his behalf. The Bishop of Exeter, in his place in
the House of Lords, asked why the Government had
relinquished the prosecution. The Marquis of Nor-
manby, the then Secretary of State for the Home De-
partment, who replied to the prelate, might with
truth have said, that “its commencement had been a
blunder, and its ending a compromise.” The “ Man-
_ chester Courier,” in a dastardly spirit, actually accused
Heywood of being a Government spy! A threatened
prosecution quickly induced the proprietor of that
paper to withdraw the mean insinuation.

The year 1842 was the year of the Manchester
riots. For the protection of property, cannon was
placed at the end of the streets, and the military
were under arms night and day. During those days
of trouble Heywood was instrumental in considerably
allaying the general irritation. When his shop was
entered by a band of ruffians, he boldly followed them
to witness their heartless destruction of property, at
the same time appealing to the people in the streets
to stay the infamous proceedings. In Thomas Street,
in the city, he obtained the assistance of a working
190 ABEL HEYWOOD.

man, when he courageously arrested one of the mob ;
he then procured the assistance of the police, headed
by Mr. Beswick, the superintendent, when he was
enabled to track the footsteps of five of the shop-
breakers, and arrest them in the act of dividing the
spoil. On the day of their examination before the
magistrates, and before the commencement of the
proceedings, he was appealed to in court by the
wives of three of the prisoners, not to appear
against their husbands. Bold as he had shown him-
self on the day when he had arrested the men, he
now found himself utterly unable to resist the heart
appeals of the poor women. He left the court.
Threatenings or cajolings could not then induce him
to re-enter it. This sympathy, so far as the prisoners
were concerned, was of no avail. Another witness
attested the facts, and the men, on the day of trial,
were all transported for life.

During the riots of 1849, the mayor convened a
meeting of the town council (of which Heywood was
then a member), and of the magistrates, to devise
some means to secure the public peace in the emer-
gency. After various plans had been suggested and
discussed, Abel was appealed to for his advice. The ~
course he recommended was to repose confidence in
the working classes; to issue an address calling upon
them to maintain order, which was as much for their
interest as it was for the middle or upper classes.
The advice was happily takeu. The address was
HIS MARRIAGE.—A DOUBTFUL PLOT. 191

issued, and produced an immediate reaction—quiet
being shortly restored. The mayor subsequently
received the honour of knighthood for the act
prompted and suggested by Abel Heywood.

Prior to this time—within six months of his leay-
ing prison—he entered into the marriage state, real-
ising all through life as the result, that “he that
marries does well;” his wife proving, in every sense
of the word, a true helpmate. He mainly attributes,
indeed, his prosperity to her advice and assistance.
Combining great aptness for business, with wonderful
shrewdness and penetration of individual character,
she was an invaluable associate in the more stormy
period of Heywood’s career, many times being
called upon to exercise her strong common sense in
cases of emergency. On one occasion, when Hey-
wood was out of town, in 1839, during the period of
the Newport riots, now so famous in connection with
the names of Frost, Williams, and Jones, she was
aroused in the middle of the night by a loud knocking
at the door. On throwing up the window a man was
observed opposite the house, who told her he had
been deputed to assist Mr. Heywood in the general
rising of the working classes which was about to take
place. She assured him that he and his friends
were under a mistake ; that the working people were
about to do no such foolish thing, and certainly that
her husband would assist neither him nor them in such
a scheme. The man seemed incredulous that Fey-
192 ABEL HEYWOOD.

wood was not at home and ready to embark in the,
as he believed, national uprising. He was satisfied,
however, and went his way, when the opportunity was
offered him to search the house. Doubtless there
was, at the time, a deep-laid plot for a general dis-
turbance. The want of success at Newport probably
caused its abandonment. The working classes, up
to the year 1842, had been the dupes of many Utopian
schemes. He that bid the highest, and whose plan
was the wildest, had the greatest number of followers.

In 1838, the newspaper called the “ Northern
Star”? was commenced by Feargus O’Connor. For
four years its prosperity was unexampled; its editor
and proprietor being in the meantime almost wor-
shipped. The paper reached a sale of 42,000 copies
weekly! A very great sale now, for a penny paper
during prosperous times; what must it have been
then, when the “Star” sold for fourpence half-
penny, and tens of thousands of working people were
out of employ? Heywood had 1200 subscribers for
the paper, who all came to his shop for their copies
on the Saturday. Altogether, he sold to the trade
and public 18,000 “ Stars ” weekly.

In 1834, Heywood made a stand against what
would now be viewed as a very exorbitant tax—the
two-shilling duty upon Almanacks. Fearless of con-
sequences, he sold them minus the stamp; when the
Government, without instituting any prosecution
against him, remitted the obnoxious and absurd duty.
PROGRESS OF PEKIODICAL LITERATURE. 193

The progress made by Mr. Heywood in the sale of
periodicals, from the time of opening his small shop
for the convenience of selling “The Poor Man’s
Guardian,” is certainly astonishing. Ten years ago—
and ten years has effected a wonderful change in
cheap literature—he sold weekly about 6000 peri-
odicals, which are well described by the epithet
romantic, in which blood and murder, highwaymen
and robbers, fill the pages in most diseased and un-
profitable confusion. At that period, however, his
_ sale of more healthy periodicals was also considerable.
He sold of the ‘Illustrated Family Journal,” 700;
“ London Journal,” 9000; “ Family Herald,’ 8000;
“Home Circle,” 1000; “Home Journal,’ 1000;
“ Domestic Journal,” 600; “ Eliza Cook’s Journal,”
1250; “ Chambers’s Journal,”? 900; ‘ Chambers’s
Information for the People,” 1200; “ People’s Jour-
nal,” 400; “ Punch,’ 1200; and of the “ Family
Economist,’ 5000 weekly. From 1850 to 1860
the improvement in the character and circulation
of periodicals has been most marked and encou-
raging. The “ London Journal’ is still at the head
of the penny literature; while Cassell’s cheap’pub-
lications are widely circulated and deservedly es-
teemed. Mr. Heywood says that during the last
ten years nearly the whole of the trashy “blood
and murder” serials have disappeared, a more
healthy and invigorating class having taken their
place.
194 ABEL HEYWOOD.

In 1847, in addition to his bookselling business,
Mr. Heywood joined some practical paper-stainers.
At that time the manufacture of paper-hangings was
comparatively in its infancy. In 1851, only four
years after the formation of the firm, they were
awarded a medal by the Commissioners of the Great
Industrial Exhibition in Hyde Park, for their im-
provements. During the thirteen years the firm has
been in existence, their trade has become enormous.
The extent of their business may be estimated from
the fact that the firm paid in duty upon paper, in the
year 1859, more than twenty thousand pounds! and
that they annually manufacture three millions of
pieces of paper-hangings! In addition to the works
for paper-staining, they have their own mill for paper-
making, in which two machines are constantly at
work, and a third is in course of construction. The
house has branches in London and Glasgow, and
travellers and agents in all parts of the world; their
paper-hangings being as well known in the United
States as they are in England.

As an instance of the confidence which his probity
and integrity had inspired, Heywood was one day, in
1849, waited upon by Mr. T. B. Crompton, the
paper maker, who made him an unsolicited offer of a
loan of ten thousand pounds. It was respectfully and
gratefully declined, his own resources being at the
time amply sufficient for the development of his
business,
PUBLIC SERVICES. 195

His speculations, however, were not always suc-
cessful. On one occasion he joined a weaving com-
pany, which did not succeed ; upon two other occasions
he endeavoured to.establish a newspaper, both of
which were failures.

But, active and attentive as he was to his own
affairs, he was not unmindful of the duties devolving
upon him as a citizen. In 1835, he became a com-
missioner of police; and then, upon the transferring
of the powers of that body to the corporation, on the
incorporation of the city, he became a member of the
town-council, and in 1858 an alderman. In 1859,
at the general election, he was proposed a member for
the city. There were four candidates. Thomas
Bazley polled, 7545, James Aspinall Turner, 7300,
Abel Heywood, 5500, and the Hon. Capt. Denman,
5201. Although Heywood was not elected, his
position at the close of the poll was much more hon-
ourable than those who were. They had expended
a large sum of money, had employed every available
coach and cab in Manchester, as well as having the
services of paid clerks and servants. Heywood had
no coaches nor cabs. Every one that voted for him
did so freely and heartily, and manifested that free-
ness and heartiness by walking to the poll. The whole
of his election expenses, which were chiefly hustings
charges, was only £351, which was voluntarily and
cheerfully subscribed by his friends.

His public services have ever been of a practical

02
196 ABEL HEYWOOD.

character, chiefly affecting the welfare of the working-
classes. Strikes, Benefit Societies, Building Societies,
and Educational Institutions, have all commanded
his sympathy and aid. And without being an orator,
he possesses fair pretensions to a public speaker, so
that his numerous lectures and addresses are always
listened to with interest and profit.

About five years ago he became ‘a teetotaller—of
all men, said his friends, who had the least necessity
for such an act. But he had wisely considered that
his sons, who were growing to man’s estate, and who
had never tasted alcoholic liquors, would probably
ask why they might not join him in his glass of pale ale
at supper. If it was good for him, why should it not
be good for them? To his precept he therefore
added example—a course which he surely will never
see reason to regret; which may cause his sons to
avoid thousands of temptations, while an opposite
course might have led to their destruction.

In this, the merest outline of the career of Abel
Heywood, we have one more instance, to the many
instances on record, of a man in a low obscure posi-
tion raising himself by perseverance and industry to
wealth, honour, and distinction. Long may he live
to incite the aspiring youth or young man to emulate
him in his simple habits, in his steady course of self-
denial, in his exemplary diligence, and in his works
of public service; and if they do not receive the
material rewards which have crowned his exertions,
LIVING VOID OF OFFENCE. 197

they will still have the satisfaction of knowing that they
have lived in the esteem and with the respect of their
friends and neighbours, and that towards all men they
have been “void of offence;”’ more than this—they will
feel that wherever duty called they were there to obey ;
an exertion to be made, an object to be attained, a
good to be accomplished, that they had sufficient
earnestness and resolution for the needed emergency,
and for every private or public duty.
198

DOMINIC-FRANCOIS ARAGO:

JHE GREAT FRENCH PHILOSOPHER.

Tue life of this extraordinary man partakes more of
the romantic than usually marks the career of lite-
rary and scientific students. The novelist and
romancist could not imagine incidents more thrilling
than those in which he was actually engaged. His
eventful life commenced with shipwrecks and capti-
vity ; it closed with political storms, which he had
fanned into flame and nursed into life. Amid all, he
maintained a wonderful buoyancy of spirit, a resolu-
tion and self-dependence which enabled him, in the
midst of the utmost disquiet, to command the needed
composure for sustained thought and scientific inves-
tigation.

Dominic-Frangois Arago was born at Estagel, near
Perpignan, in the year 1786. The first thing we
learn from his autobiograpy is, that in his earliest
years he objected to the course of life which his
father had designed for him. His own intention was
to be a soldier. But, in order that he might be so,
it was necessary, if he intended obtaining a position
in the French army, that he should pass with credit
TRYING EXAMINATION. 199

through the scientific and military courses of the
Ecole Polytechnique. To obtain admission to this
famous establishment, the candidate must undergo a
severe and scrutinising examination. To meet this,
Arago at once commenced the study of Euler’s
“ Analysis Infinitorum,”’ Lagrange’s “Theorie des
Fonctions,” and “ Mecanique Analytique,” and the
‘Mecanique Celeste” of Laplace. He received the
approbation of Monge when he had attained the age
of seventeen. He was next examined by Legendre,
which Arago afterwards thus described :—Dramatis
persone: First, an obscure youth of seventeen;
second, Legendre, one of the greatest of that galaxy
of geometers who illumined scientific Europe during
part of the last century and the first thirty years of
the present one—Legendre, who, although somewhat
abrupt in manners, was no less famous for his integ-
rity than for his acquirements. “I entered his
apartment at the moment when M. T., who had
fainted under examination, was being carried out by
the servants. I thought that this incident would
have moved and softened M. Legendre. Nothing of
the sort. ‘Your name?’ said he. ‘Arago.”? ‘Then
you are not a Frenchman?’ ‘If I had not been a
Frenchman I should not have been in your presence ;
for I have never heard of the reception: of any one
into the school until he had given proof of his nation-
ality.’ ‘1 insist, however, that there is no French-
man of the name of Arago.’ ‘And, on my part, I
200 DOMINIC FRANCOIS ARAGO,

insist that I am a Frenchman, and a good French-
man, however odd my name may sound to you.’ ‘Be
it so; let the discussion cease. Go now to the board.’
I had scarcely prepared the chalk,” continues Arago,
“when Legendre returned to his first impression,
saying to me, ‘You was born in one of the depart-
ments recently annexed to France?’ ‘No, Monsieur,
I was born in the department of the Pyrenees Orien-
tales, at the foot of the Pyrenees.’ ‘Ha! why did
you not tell me so at once? I see it alt now. You
are of Spanish extraction. Is it not so?’ ‘ Possibly ;
but in my humble family no archives are preserved
that might enable me to ascertain the civil condition
of my ancestors; every one there is the child of his
own labour. I again say that I am a Frenchman,
and that ought to be enough!’ The vivacity of my
last reply did not strike Legendre favourably, as I
had immediate occasion to know. Having prepared
a problem requiring the use of double integrals, he
stopped me as I proceeded, saying, ‘The method you
are employing was not given you by your professor ;
where have you found it?? ‘In one of your own
memoirs.” ‘Why have you made choice of it now?
With the hope of bribing my judgment?’ ‘Certainly
not; I adopted it because I think it preferable to the
other.’ ‘If you do not succeed in showing me the
reason of your preference, I declare that you shall
have a bad mark, at least as to character.” I then,”
continues Arago, “entered into explanations esta-
HIS BOLD DARING. 201

blishing the superiority of the method of double
integrals, in every point of view, over the method
taught by Lacroix. From that moment Legendre
appeared satisfied and soothed. He then asked me
to determine the centre of gravity of a spherical
section. ‘That is an easy matter,’ I said. ‘Well, if
it seems so easy, I shall make it more complex. Sup-
pose the density of the section not uniform, but vary-
ing according to a given function of the distance from
the centre.’ Happily, I got well through the solution,
and from that moment I had obtained, by conquest, ©
the goodwill of my examiner. _ He addressed me, as
{ retired, in words which, coming from him, seemed
to my fellow-students a very favourable augury of my
rank and promotion: ‘1 see you have employed your
time well; go on in the same manner during your
second year, and we shall part very good friends.’ ”
There was a bold daring manifested by Arago
during this examination; but if he had been possessed
of nothing but boldness, he would not have succeeded
in obtaining the commendation of the great Legendre.
May we not fairly infer that his confidence was
chiefly prompted by a knowledge of his possessing the
information demanded by his examiner? Knowledge
is always power. It is the power which enables us
to stand erect amongst our fellows, with the con-
sciousness that we are able to perform our several
duties, be they what they may. Why then should
Arago quail before Legendre? He might, with
202 DOMINIC FRANCOIS ARAGO.

reason, have done so had he spent the time devoted
to his preparatory studies in idleness and dissipation ;
but, having spent it in mastering the mathematical
problems assigned him, why should he fear? The
idle and mawkishly-sentimental cowards fear. But
Arago was none of these. That preliminary trial of his
powers was an earnest of the future man. What dif-
ficulty in the future would be capable of turning him
from his path, or cause him to relinquish a purpose
once formed ?

After he had obtained admission into the Poly-
technic School, his progress was rapid and honour-
able. Before his eighteenth year, by his industry
and abilities he had secured the friendship of the
most eminent scientific men then in Paris, and was
also promoted to the responsible and coveted office of
Secretary to the Observatory. This led to an ac-
quaintance with the great Biot, with whom he was
associated in a series of experiments to determine the
refracting powers of the different gases. These expe-
riments resulted in several adventures highly valuable -
to the purposes of science, but which were at the
time fraught with considerable danger, ultimately
resulting in great glory and distinction. The
measurement of an arc of the meridian between the
parallels of Dunkirk and Barcelona had, about the close
of the last century, been determined on by France.
The work was intrusted to Delambre and Mechain,
who were both admirably adapted for the task. The
CARRIED TO PRISON. 208

southern portion of the survey was intrusted to
Mechain, but, from some unstated reason, his results
were not satisfactory. It is said that, when he after-
wards discovered the source of the error of his calcu-
lations, the knowledge so preyed upon him, that he
died of a broken heart. He strongly recommended
the Government not to stop at Barcelona, but to con-
tinue the work as far south as the Balearic Islands.
Biot and Arago, with two Spaniards, Chaix and
Rodriquez, undertook the completion of the enter-
prise. While the Spaniards occupied Mount Cam-
pecey, in Ivica, in 1806, Biot and Arago occupied the
summit of one of the loftiest of the Catalonian
Pyrenees. During the next year Biot returned to
Paris with the information then obtained, Rodriquez
and Arago remaining to complete the enterprise.
While Arago was in Majorca, the French entered
Spain. The ignorant populace then thought that the
signals which had been erected by Arago were tele-
graphs to the hostile generals; the result was, that
he had to take refuge from the popular fury in the
Castle of Belver. Even there he was not safe. A
priest, who certainly must have been mad, actually
planned his death by poison; that design he frus-
trated by escaping to Algiers. He succeeded in
obtaining a passage to France on board an Algerine
vessel ; just, however, as they arrived at the Gulf of
Lyons, they were made prisoners by a Spanish
corsair, and carried to Rosas. Arago was confined
204: DOMINIC FRANCOIS ARAGO.

first in a windmill, and then in the hulks on Palamos,
where he had to endure the most protracted suffer-
ings from hunger. A friendly Dey liberated him from
his captivity, when he once more set sail for France.
Strange to say, he had only just obtained a sight of
his native land when a storm arose, which drove the
vessel once more upon the coast of Africa. Unfortu-
nately, in the meantime, the Dey that had befriended
Arago had been beheaded ; his successor would have
manifested opposite sympathies, and have immured
.Arago in the slave prison. Most opportunely he
was hung himself, which saved the young savant from
that miserable fate. In six months he was enabled
once more to embark, when he reached the harbour
of Marseilles on the 2nd of July, 1809, with all his
instruments, manuscripts, and charts uninjured.
Those three years of hunger, imprisonment, fatigue,
and danger, had surely converted the impetuous youth
into the calm, self-reliant man. His return to the
French capital was hailed with delight by every phi-
losophicai society in Europe. To mark their appre-
ciation of his labours, the members of the Academy
of Sciences permitted him to take a seat amongst
them at the early age of twenty-three. Soon after
that time he took the management of the Observa-
tory, and then, in 1830, he became Perpetual Secre-
tary of the French Academy. While in that position
he contributed to the volumes of the Academy a
number of éoges, or sketches, of the characters and
HIS WORKS AND LECTURES. 205

labours of great men, that will ever be considered
exquisite specimens of that class of composition.
“ Zealous defender,’ says Humboldt, “of the interests
of reason, Arago often makes us feel how much
nobility and gravity elevation of character can im-
press on every work of the intellect. When exposing
the principles of the science, on which he threw an
admirable and persuasive clearness, the style of the
orator becomes yet more expressive, inasmuch as it is
distinguished by additional simplicity and precision.
He then reaches what Buffon has designated ‘the
truth of style.’ ”

In addition to the several biographies, Arago contri-
buted treatises in almost every department of science,
amongst which may be enumerated meteorology, as-
tronomy, magnetism; also essays on Sir William
Herschel, the Steam-engine, James Watt, etc. His
lectures, recently published under the title of “‘ Popu-
lar Lectures on Astronomy,” are also truly interest-
ing, although they lack the charm and manner which
Arago imparted to them in their delivery. During
the composition of these enduring monuments of his
genius and industry, he was not less active in the Ob-
servatory, which was under his control. When he first
became its director the astronomical instruments were
not all that could be desired. Under his direction,
however, a series of vast magnetic investigations were
undertaken, the labour of which was enormous, and
the result correspondingly important. The mere
206 DOMINIC FRANCOIS ARAGO.

enumeration of these labours would occupy consider-
able space. Humboldt said, in reference to the years
1811, 1820, and 1824, that they were the proudest of
Arago’s career. It is singular, however, that at the
same time, our own Brewster, without hint or concert
with the great French philosopher, had been experi-
menting in the same direction, and had, as the result,
discovered the same truths and the same laws; one
of which was the connection between auroras and
magnetic storms; and also the diurnal magnetic vari-
ations. Another discovery of Arago’s was what is
called rotatory magnetism, which means a very curious
sympathy between a rotatory disc of an unmagnetic
metal rotated underneath a magnet, and the position
of the magnet itself. The subject was one that long
occupied the attention of learned men, Herschel and
Babbage being amongst them. Faraday, the book-
binder’s apprentice, had the honour of giving the true
solution of the phenomena. In relation to Arago’s
discovery of the wave theory of light, it is only just
to say that in that department of science he was greatly
surpassed by Sir David Brewster. Arago, in 1835,
stimulated by Wheatstone’s ingenious method of
measuring the velocity of electricity, conceived the
idea of measuring the velocity of light. He had
nearly completed the needed apparatus when ill health
compelled him to desist from his labours. He had
thesatis faction to know MM. Foucault and Fizeau
had completed what he had begun. Arago’s fame,
“WORK, WORK, DILIGENTLY.” 207

however, does not rest in the discovery of large or
fundamental laws. In these respects he cannot be
compared with a Fresnel or a Faraday; “but if we
estimate him,” as a recent writer has said, “by his
activity, by his ingenuity and enthusiasm, by the life
which his energy stirred everywhere around him, and
by the importance of the theoretical consequences of
his remarkable disclosures of the empirical laws of
various classes of phenomena, it must be acknowledged
by every impartial inquirer, that neither in previous
nor in recent times has he had many equals, certainly
only few superiors.”

In the revolutionary régime of 1848, after the de-
thronement of Louis Philippe, he became Minister of
Marine and War ; four years afterwards, in the Octo-
ber of 1852, his remarkable life came to aclose. M.
Barral, in his oration at the grave of the great philo-
sopher, said: “ Illustrious master, much loved mas-
ter, noble citizen,—It is a duty, and at the same time
a very sad honour, for me to express a sentiment which
now fills every heart. Thy constant solicitude for the
progress of human knowledge has always induced
thee to take the young by the hand, and to inspire
them with thy passion for science. On the eve of
thy death the last word which thou spokest to us was,
€ Work, work diligently This sublime lesson will
remain engraveg on the heart of every young philo-
sopher. They will feel compelled to follow the path
which thy genius had opened. In falling asleep into
208 DOMINIC FRANCOIS ARAGO.

immortality, thou hast desired to teach them that
work is the only means of rendering service to their
country and to humanity. Thanks on their behalf.
Adieu, in the name of youth, in the name of its admir-
ation of thee—of its love for thy memory. I tell it
thee, and thou mayest count upon it. Adieu !”
209

‘THE REV. THOMAS SPENCER:
THE CELEBRATED BOY-PREACHER.

Great GrorGE Street Cuarez, Liverpool, is the scene
of the labours of the Rev. Thomas Raffles, where he
has officiated for forty-four years. In the entrance
to that beautiful building there is a tablet erected to
the memory of his predecessor, the Rev. Thomas Spen-
cer, who died, while bathing, in his twenty-first year,
who was a young man of singular promise, and at that
early age, of considerable attainments. He furnishes
in his brief career an admirable illustration that ob-
scurity of birth or station presents no insurmountable
barrier to the progress of real excellence.

He was born at Hertford, in the January of 1791.
His parents were humble in their circumstances, but
respected and esteemed by a large circle of friends.
Thomas, speaking of his early years, said: ‘‘ As far
back as I can recollect, my memory was complimented
by many as being very retentive, and my progress in
knowledge was more considerable than that of my
school-fellows ; a natural curiosity and desire of know-
ledge, Ithink I may say without vanity, distinguished
even the period of my infancy. I now remember

p
210 THE REV. THOMAS SPENCER.

questions that I asked when about four years old,
which were rather singular, and which were confined
chiefly to biblical subjects. No child could be more
attached to places of worship, or could be more inquisi-
tive about their concerns than myself, and, I may add,
more given to imitate the actions of the minister and
”? In his fifth year he was deprived, by death,
of his mother. Young as he was he felt the severe
loss, and afterwards recorded the impression that the
mournful incident made upon his mind. ‘“ When the
funeral sermon was preached, I could not help no-

clerk.

ticing the grief which seemed to pervade every person
present. Deeply affected myself, I recollect that,
after the service, as I was walking about our little
garden with my disconsolate father, I said to him,
‘Father, what is the reason that so many people cried
at the meeting this afternoon?’ He, adapting his
language to. my comprehension, said, ‘ They cried to
see little children like you without a mother.’ ”

From this time he applied: himself with diligence
and delight to the business of his school, gaining not
only the first place and highest honours, but also the
character, from his teachers, of “a good boy.” Whilst.
at school he became passionately fond of novels,
histories, adventures, &c., which he read with great
eagerness. His greatest happiness, indeed, was to
be alone with one of his favourite books.

At this early period the bias of his mind began to
be disclosed. While others amused themselves with
INFANTILE SERMONS. 221i

the games usual to childhood, he exercised himself
in addressing imaginary congregations or little
assemblages of his companions. The composition of
these infantile sermons was entirely his own, or
composed from hints received from what he had
heard or read. Very soon his infant talents became
the theme of conversation outside of his father’s
house. Many were anxious to listen to the “parson
in embryo,” as he was called. In addition to his
preaching exercises, he employed himself in the com-
position of poetry; but neither then nor subsequently
did he attain to any considerable merit in wooing the
muses. Small as his efforts were, however, they
served to bring him under the notice of some indi-
viduals of wealth and consequence, from whom it
was expected that he would derive solid aid and
assistance in his ultimate objects. This anticipation
was not realized; he had, therefore, to depend upon
his own resources—to apply himself with diligence to
the acquisition of knowledge. He was, however,
indebted to the Rev. E. White, the Independent
minister of Hertford, for some instructions in Latin.
His father, also, although in very poor circumstances,
contrived to send him to the best school which the
town afforded. Very soon afterwards he was com-
pelled not only to employ him at home between
the school hours, but to withdraw him altogether, so
that he might have the entire benefit of his labours.
This arrangement was the source of the keenest

P 2
212 THE REV. THOMAS SPENCER.

disappointment to Thomas. Of course he bowed to
the duty which was imposed upon him by his parent ;
but when the prescribed task was fulfilled, he leaped
with joy to solitude and his books. “ With the
greatest grief,” he wrote, “I left school at thirteen
years of age, and was employed at some of the worst
branches of my father’s business. I endeavoured to
resign myself as much as possible to my circum-
stances, and twisted worsted every day with a heavy
heart.” He continued labouring at his father’s trade
for about a year and a half, with the hope that some
circumstance would arise that would permit him to
resume his more congenial studies. He did not
forget, however, to use every means of self-improve-
ment. In the meantime his father’s business became
depressed; and it then became a matter of considera-
tion what should be his future employment. An
advertisement on the cover of a magazine gave pro-
mise of a desirable situation. Thereupon father and
son started for London; had an interview with the
advertiser, but found insuperable difficulties in the
way, and so returned as they went. A few weeks
after, Mr. Spencer was induced to place Thomas with
Messrs. Winwood and Thodey, glovers, in the Poultry.
The employment, so far removed from the tranquil
quiet of his studies, he performed to the best of his
ability. His modest behaviour and engaging appear-
ance soon won for him the respect and esteem of the
family amongst whom he was placed. They gave
YOUNG MEN’S ACADEMY. 213

him tokens of their friendship, of which he ever
afterwards cherished a lively remembrance. Speak-
ing of that time he said, “‘ At this place my time was
entirely employed, as it was fit it should be, in
executing the will of my two masters; for the young
man, who was active and friendly, I formed a great
attachment, and was, indeed, interested in the welfare
of the whole family. Marks of respect were shown
me which, I believe, were unusual to my predecessors.
I made myself generally tolerably comfortable;
some difficulties and disagreeable circumstances of
course fell to my lot, yet upon the whole I had
many enjoyments. My acquaintance whilst here
increased: with several young men, who, indeed,
were rather above my station in life, I was particu-
larly intimate, and more than twice or thrice did I
give’ an exhortation at the house of a relative of the
young man who was my fellow-servant.” After a
residence of four months with his employers, circum-
stances occurred which rendered his services no
longer needed, and he therefore returned to his
parents at Hertford. Prior to his leaving London,
however, he had been introduced to Thomas Wilson,
Eisq., the treasurer of the Academy for Educating
Young Men for the Ministry, at Hoxton. On the
change in his affairs he sent for him, and introduced
him to the Rev. William Hordle, of Harwich, who
had the care of young men who were too young or
too poor to enter the Academy. Mr. Wilson finally
214 THE REV. THOMAS SPENCEP..

decided to send Thomas to this gentleman for a trial
of his abilities. After spending a little time at home,
he entered Mr. Hordle’s family in the January of
1806; he was then only just completing his fifteenth
year. In his new position his diligence was exemplary.
A course of reading marked out for him by his tutor
he conscientiously and unweariedly pursued. He
had already made considerable progress in Latin;
and soon after his joining Mr. Hordle he commenced
the study of Hebrew. His diligence and perseverance
were manifested by his making an abridgment of
Parkhurst’s Hebrew Lexicon, This work he accom-
plished in a small pocket manual, which was almost
his constant companion. His studies at this period
embraced. the lectures of Doddridge, the essays of
Locke, and the Latin poets, with the classic authors
of our own country, from which style his own
compositions gradually assumed an air of elegance
and ease—the family worship being conducted alter-
nately by Mr. Hordle and Spencer.

When the year of his stay with Mr. Hordle had
nearly expired, he drew up a statement of his
religious experience, his theological views, and his
reasons for desiring to become a minister. This
paper, from a youth scarcely sixteen years of age,
was read with wonder and admiration. It no doubt
tended to overcome the obstacles which his youth
presented to his entering the Academy. In the
January following he was appointed to appear before
A LITTLE BOY SPEAKING. 2415

the constituents of the institution, to give a specimen
of his talents for public speaking. On the 7th of
that month he appeared at Hoxton, and underwent
the examination, which he had so anxiously antici-
pated, with success and honour. He was at once
elected a student, and became an inmate of the
Academy. In a letter to Mr. Hordle he said, “Two
things make this day remarkable to me; one is, that
it is my birthday, as I am now sixteen years old; the
other is, that I have been a fortnight in this house.
On Wednesday, the 7th—that long-dreaded day—
I appeared before the committee. Your imagination
may represent a little boy speaking before them. I
felt a good deal of timidity, and waited the event
with feelings of anxiety.”
In the institution both the tutors and students felt
a growing interest in their new young friend. His
studies had now become wider and more important, to
which he applied himself with exemplary diligence.
During the vacation in June he returned to his father’s
house in Hertford. While there he preached his first
_sermon in public at the small village of Collier’s End,
six miles from Hertford. His audience consisted of
about thirty plain country people. The text which he
selected for the occasion was, “The blood of Jesus
Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.” Simple as
his audience were, they were struck with the talent
manifested by the juvenile preacher. This first ser-
mon created a desire for a repetition of his labours.
216 THE REV. THOMAS SPENCER,

On the morning of the next Sabbath he preached at a
village called Broughin, taking as his text, “Ye are ©
dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God.” In
the afternoon and evening he again preached at Col-
lier’s End. The subject in the afternoon was, “ Have
ye received the Holy Ghost?” and, in the evening,
“They are the enemies of the cross of Christ.” On
these occasions, so rapidly had the fame of the preacher
spread, the room could scarcely contain the crowd as-
sembled to hear the boy-preacher. On the Thursday
following he preached, at a place called Brickenden,
from the text, ‘“Come, see a man which told me all
things that ever I did; is not this the Christ?” On
the Sunday he again preached at Collier’s End. In
the evening the number that had assembled was so
great that he was under the necessity of preaching in
the open air. His text was, “So then every one of
us shall give account of himself to God.” Although
he was surrounded by so great a crowd he expressed
himself with peculiar ease and energy. From this
time until the end of the vacation he preached in
various places ; but whenever he preached, numbers
flocked to see and hear the wonderful youth who had
excited so much interest in those that had heard him.
On his return to Hoxton he occasionally preached in
the workhouse ; and during the Christmas vacation he
preached for the first time at Hertford. On that oc-
casion, contrary to the old saying, he had honour
in his own country. The chapel where he preached
PREACHES AT HOXTON. 217

was full: amongst the congregation Spencer could, in
addition to his own friends, recognise many of the boys
and townsmen with whom he had been associated.
His sermons, however, long after the novelty had sub-
sided, were equally attractive.

On his return to the Academy he found the Rev.
Mr. Leifchild supplying the pulpit at Hoxton. One
Sabbath afternoon at his request Spencer took part in
the service by reading the Scriptures and conducting
the prayers. In a letter to Dr. Raffles, Mr. Leifchild
conveyed the impression which his appearance and
manner produced upon the large congregation :—

* But when he appeared in the pulpit—after the first
emotions of surprise were over, and after the mistakes
of some, who supposed that he was a little boy belong-
ing to the gallery, who, from ignorance or thought-
lessness, had gone up the pulpit stairs, instead of those
leading to his seat, had been corrected, so sweetly did
he read the chapter—so earnestly, so scripturally, so
experimentally, did he engage in prayer, that for the
whole six Sabbaths afterwards he became the chief
magnet of attraction to the place. The people now
insisted upon it that he should preach. I need not
name his subsequent success.”

When he appeared in the pulpit at Hoxton, a youth
just seventeen, he was caim and collected, delivering
his words and thoughts with dignified composure.
The subject he selected for the interesting occasion
was: “For this shall every cne that is godly pray
218 THE REV. THOMAS SPENCER,

unto thee in a time when thou mayest be found
surely in the floods of great waters they shall not
come nigh unto thee.” The success of this discourse
spread Spencer’s name far and wide. He became the
subject of universal inquiry. Letters of invitation to
preach came from all parts of the kingdom. But
against the danger of popular applause he was happily
preserved. He did not again for some time preach in
London. In the September following, however, he
preached at Hoxton Chapel from “ He is Lord of all.”
From this time he began to preach in various chapels
in London and its neighbourhood. On the following
Christmas Day he again preached at Hoxton Chapel ;
and on the 29th of December, at Brighton, in the
Countess of Huntingdon’s Chapel. On his return to
the metropolis he preached at Holloway; and on the
evening of the 10th of January he addressed an im-
mense congregation in the Surrey Chapel, the minis-
ter of which was the Rev. Rowland Hill. From this
time, wherever he appeared, general interest was ex-
cited ; the newspapers were not chary in manifesting
a proper appreciation of his powers, and he became also
the one topic of general conversation. But his various
labours tended to destroy his physical constitution ;
to recruit which he was appointed to spend some weeks
at Dorking, in Surrey. On his return he supplied
Jewin Street Meeting for a month ;—before he left
numbers could not obtain admission. But famous as
he had thus become, pride or conceit formed no part
. HIS LIVERPOOL CHARGE. 219

of his character. He was still the same humble and
modest youth, desiring to be useful; but upon whom
the public applause had no effect. On the 5th of
November he was appointed to preach in the pulpit
then recently occupied by the great Robert Hall, at
Cambridge.

In the year 1810, Spencer was appointed to spend
the vacation at Newington Chapel, Liverpool, which
was destitute of a pastor, owing to the death of the
Rev. David Bruce. The report of his talents had
preceded him, so that considerable interest was ex-
cited by his visit. From some cause Spencer had
contracted a dislike to the town, and expressed his in-
tention to induce the committee to send some other
student. The voice of duty, however, called him to
Liverpool—and he obeyed. He arrived in that town
on Saturday, the 30th of June, and commenced his
labours the next day. His services were crowned
with success; the chapel becoming, during his limited
stay, crowded to excess. When he left, it was with
reluctance and tears. Soon after his return to Hox-
ton he received from the congregation of Newington
Chapel a.unanimous call to become their minister.
This, after seven weeks’ consideration, he decided to
accept. Andon the 3rd of February, 1811, after
taking leave of his London friends, in a series of
striking discourses, he entered upon the duties of his
Liverpool charge. He was then only in his twentieth
year; and yet he possessed every endowment that
220 THE REV. THOMAS SPENCER.

could endear him as a friend, and render him accept-
able as a minister. It is true his knowledge of the
world was limited; but he had great aptitude for
study, and industry in gathering suitable material for
his sermons. Very soon after entering upon the
duties of his charge, the chapel became too small to ac-
commodate the numbers assembled to hearhim. The
town was filled with his praise. But while he thus
rose in the estimation of the public, he sank in his
own esteem. Humility clothed him as with a gar-
ment. ,

The uncommon interest excited by Spencer’s minis-
trations suggested the necessity of anew building. At
the first it was thought that the old chapel could be
enlarged; this, however, was relinquished, and a new
chapel was determined upon, that would accommo-
date two thousand persons. Spencer laid the founda-
tion stone in the presence of an immense assembly.
On the Sabbath-day, July 28, he preached a sermon
on the occasion of a collection being made for the
new building, and during the following week engaged
in a round of services at Prescot, where he laid the
foundation stone of a new chapel, at St. Helen’s,
where he preached ; in visiting the members of his
congregation, and in writing letters to his friends.
On the Sabbath following, which proved to be the
last spent on earth, he rose with unusual health and
spirits. In the morning he preached from—“ TI have
loved thee with an everlasting love, therefore with
LAST SERMON AND DEATH. 221

lovingkindness have I drawn thee ;”’ in the evening,
in the midst of a throng, such as is rarely witnessed,
to which hundreds were unable to gain access, he
preached from—“‘ One thing is needful, and Mary hath
chosen that good part which shall not be taken
away from her.”

On the next morning, after breakfast, in order to
strengthen his nerves for study, he went to bathe in
the sea. Arrived at the spot he had selected, he
asked a gentleman, who had been bathing, “if that
was a good place to bathe at ?” He was answered that
it was. In a few minutes after going into the water,
he was observed to disappear from the surface. An
alarm was given, boats were speedily at the spot, and
after considerable difficulty the body was recovered—
but, alas! life was extinct. Every effort was made
that experience could suggest for its resuscitation, but
without success. ‘“ Thus,” as Dr. Raffles wrote, ‘in
one sad moment, was lost to society and to the Church
of Christ, one of the loveliest of men—one of the most
eloquent of preachers, upon whose lips, only the pre-
ceding day, hundreds had hung with delight, and the
long-continued and extended exertion of whose powers,
im a large sanctuary—the foundation of which he had
but recently laid—thousands anticipated with eager
desire !””

On the occasion of the funeral, all the streets
through which the procession passed were filled by a
serious and deeply-affected crowd of people. One of
222 THE REV. THOMAS SPENCER.

the journals said : “‘ The whole scene was affecting —
it could not be otherwise. Every idea which could
be associated with the spectacle was such as to excite
the deepest sympathy. The flower of youth, scarcely
opened, snatched from the stem of life by a sudden
and rude attack of mortality; a minister who lately
fixed the attention of crowded audiences by the power
of his eloquence, conveyed to the house of silence and
darkness ; the fairest prospects of honour and useful-
ness in life blasted; the warm hopes of his friends
wrecked in a moment; and the deep, the dreadful
wound inflicted on the feelings of relatives and the
dearest connections.”

“Thus early call’d and strongly moved,
_ A prophet from @ child approved,
Spencer his course began.
From strength to strength, from grace to grace,
Swiftest and foremost in the race,
He carried vict’ry in his face—
He triumph’d while he ran.

“ How short his stay! the glorious prize,
To our slow hearts and failing eyes,
Appear’d too quickly won.
The warrior rush’d into the field,
With arm invincible, to wield
The Spirit’s sword, the Spirit’s shield,
When lo! the fight was done.”

In contemplating the character of this lovely youth,
"we cannot fail to be impressed with his unwearied
diligence and industry, which marked every period of
HIS ATTAINMENTS AND INDUSTRY. 223

his brief career. In addition to the course of study
enjoined upon the student at the Academy, he had
from the first to devote much of his time in prepara-
tion for the pulpit. Indeed, so scrupulous was he on
the subject, that. upon one occasion, when suddenly
called upon to address some young persons, he said to
a friend: “I wish you would address the-children for
me this afternoon; I have not prepared anything; I
have not considered a subject for them, and I would
not offer even toa child that which cost me nothing.”
His library was small, but well chosen. After his
death many experienced ministers came to see it, who
all expressed their admiration of the care which had
been manifested in the selection of books. His
attainments in classic literature were considerable ;
he had read the best Greek and Roman authors, and
perused with evident advantage the most celebrated
English writers. The poets that. had secured his
admiration were Milton, Young, Cowper, and Kirke
White. When a boy, as has already been intimated,
he courted the muse himself, but not with much
success.

The moral of the life of Spencer is furnished in the
words of Dr. Raffles: “Many who have lived to
enlighten and to bless the world, who have obtained
rank, and fortune, and renown, were born in obscurity,
and passed their earliest years in the oblivion of hum-
ble life. Let such, then, as feel the pressure of pre-
sent circumstances, and yet pant for scenes of honour-
224, "THE REV. THOMAS SPENCER.

able exertion and extensive usefulness, ponder the life
of Spencer, and be encouraged. If God designs to
employ them for the public good, He will, by an unex-
pected train of events in his providence, call them
‘forth; if not, let them neither rush unbidden from
their sphere, nor occupy their station in sullen dis-
content; if a wider field be not allowed them, let
them cultivate with cheerfulness the little spot to
which they are confined. The most retired hamlet
affords abundant opportunities of doing good; and
many a man, to whom it is denied to enlighten
crowded cities and populous towns, may be a star of
the first magnitude in the village where he dwelis.”’
SIR DAVID BREWSTER:

KNIGHT OF THE GUELPHIC ORDER, PRINCIPAL OF
ST. LEONARD’S COLLEGE, UNIVERSITY OF ST.
ANDREW’S, AND ONE OF THE MOST DISTIN-
GUISHED LIVING PHILOSOPHERS.



Ir is scarcely needful to state that the life of the man -
who has achieved so much must have been one of
untiring industry. Most truly has he acquired his
patent to nobility bylabour. His achievements, indeed,
have been so vast that ordinary men would consider
they had spent their lives most industriously in the
mere repetition of his various scientific experiments.
His position has been won without patrimony, and,
_ until recently, without aid from any public institu-
tions ; his success ‘must be attributed to integrity,
prudence, and labour that never flagged, by which he
has been enabled to maintain his distinguished position
amid the foremost rank of philosophers.

He was born at Jedburgh, in Roxburghshire, in the
December of 1781. His father intended him, in
common with his three brothers, for the Church.
They fulfilled the paternal intention, and were sub-
sequently distinguished for piety, intelligence, and

Q
225 = —- SIR DAVID BREWSTER.

zeal in the discharge of ‘their duties. David became
a licentiate of the Church of Scotland, but finally re-
linquished what he called the family profession, on
account of ill health. Before he left college, when
he had scarcely attained his twentieth year, he re-
ceived the degree of M.A. from the University of
Edinburgh. While studying in that famous seat of
learning, he enjoyed the friendship of Robison, who
then filled the chair of natural philosophy, Professor
Playfair, and the celebrated Dugald Stewart. His
great career may be said to have commenced long
before he was twenty years of age. The subject that
thus early arrested his attention, was the inflection,
or the bending of the rays of light caused by the
unequal medium through which it might pass. It
was in this branch of the science of optics in which
he afterwards attained great eminence. In 1806, he
commenced a work of immense labour and research—
the “ Edinburgh Encyclopedia, which was not com-
pleted until the year 1830. But while engaged upon
that important work, demanding so great a portion
of thought and time, he still found leisure to study
his favourite subject—optics ; so that, in 1818, he was
enabled to send out a work containing the results of
his studies, under the title of a “Treatise on New
Philosophical Instruments.” During the time that
his attention was directed to optics and kindred sub-
jects, a number of French philosophers were engaged
in the same investigations. When peace was de-
INVENTION OF THE KALEIDOSCOPE. 227

clared, so that the scientific progress of the two
countries could be compared, it was found, to Brew-
ster’s honour, that im every instance of discovery he.
had anticipated the French savants. In 1819 Sir
David commenced the ‘ Edinburgh Philosophical
Journal,”’ in conjunction with Professor Jameson ;
afterwards he carried it on alone under the title of the
“Edinburgh Journal of Science,” of which sixteen
volumes were published.

One of the most popular of Brewster’s discoveries
was the kaleidoscope—an optical instrument for
creating and exhibiting an infinite variety of beautiful
figures, by presenting to the eye an ever-varying suc-
cession of splendid tints and symmetrical forms. It
is at the present time largely used by calico-printers,
potters, and carpet manufacturers, who are thus
supplied with an immense variety of patterns. The
kaleidoscope consists of a tin tube containing two re-
flecting surfaces inclined to each other. The eye-
glass placed immediately against the end of the
mirrors, as well as another glass similarly situated at
the other end, are of common transparent. glass.
The tube is continued a little beyond this second
glass, and, at its termination, is closed by a ground
glass, which can be put on and off. In the vacant
space thus formed, beads, pieces of coloured glass, and
other small bright objects are put; and the changes
produced in their position by turning the tube, give rise
to the different figures. Unfortunately, owing to the

Q2
228 SIR DAVID BREWSTER.

defective state of the patent laws, Sir David received
no pecuniary benefit from his invention. A mere
fraction upon every kaleidoscope manufactured in
the first five years after it was made public, would
have yielded a magnificent fortune.

His next popular invention was what is called the
lenticular stereoscope. We are indebted to Professor
Wheatstone, the discoverer of the electric telegraph,
for the invention of the stereoscope. In 1838, he
exhibited to the Royal Society what he called the
reflecting stereoscope, for the purpose of illustrating
his theories of vision, which instrument is thus
explained :—When we are looking at a raised object
with one eye, the result is just the same as if we
looked at a flat surface, so far as the colours, shades,
&c., are skilfully imitated; but when we look with
both eyes, the image in the right eye is not exactly
like that in the left, because we view it from a dif-
ferent point of sight. It is true that this difference
depends only on the small distance between the eyes ;
but this suffices to produce different ocular results.
Wheatstone has shown that our appreciation of raised
objects depends mainly on this circumstance ; and his
stereoscope, or binocular glass, is an ingenious con-
trivance for making two plain pictures seem to coalesce
into one relievo object.

This instrument for some time excited considerable
attention in the scientific world; but it has been
superseded by the refracting stereoscope, the invention
IMPROVEMENTS IN THE STEREOSCOPE. 229

of Brewster. He raised many objections to Wheat-
stone’s theory of binocular vision; and in the pro-
secution of his various experiments, he was led to
construct an instrument which he designated the
lenticular stereoscope. He published a very elaborate
treatise on the subject, which appeared in 1856, from
which we extract the following description :—‘‘ The
lenticular stereoscope consists of a pyramidal box of
wood or metal, or any other opaque material,
blackened on the inside, having a lid for the ad-
mission of light when the pictures are opaque. The
box is open below, in order to let the light pass
through the pictures when they are transparent.
Another lid is sometimes added, so as to open ex-
ternally on the bottom of the box, for the purpose of
exhibiting dissolving views in the stereoscope. The
bottom of the box is generally covered with ground
glass, the surface of which ought to be very fine; or
very fine grained paper may be used. The top of the
box consists of two portions, in one of which is the
right eye tube, containing a semi-lens, or quarter-lens,
and in the other the left-eye tube. also containing a
semi-lens, or quarter-lens.”’

After the improvement of the stereoscope, Sir
David next turned his attention to the improvement
of microscopes and telescopes; to the introduction
of the Bude-light, and the use of dioptric lenses, and
of zones in lighthouses. The Bude-light is a vivid
flame extensively employed in lighting churches. The
230 SIR DAVID BREWSTER.

mode of admitting fresh air and carrying off the pro-
ducts of combustion, constitute the difference between
the Bude-light and the commom gas light. Sir
David was led to the construction of zones while
writing the article “Burning Instruments” in the
“Edinburgh Encyclopedia ;” he was led (from the
proposal of Buffon for constructing a lens of great dia-
meter out of a single piece of glass, by cutting out the
central parts in successive ridges like steps of a stair
—a proposal, he justly observes, practically impos-
sible,) to suggest the construction of a lens out of
zones of glass, each of which might be built up of
several circular segments, and thus form an apparatus
for the illumination of lighthouses of unequalled
power. This beautiful invention was afterwards more
fully developed by him in the “Edinburgh Trans-
actions.”

But it is in the science of optics that Sir David has
won his greatest achievements. Previous to the
beginning of the century, Newton’s “Optics” con-
tained nearly all we knew concerning light. The
inflection of light was a subject which had not escaped
the attention of Newton or Brougham. Light was
found to be affected by modifications scarcely recog-

nised. It was found that a ray of light is turned out
"of its path by the action of some diaphanous or light
bodies into which it enters; the ray thus disturbed
acquires certain peculiar characteristics. The whole
of this interesting and intricate subject was surveyed
HIS MEDALS. AND REWARDS. 231

by Sir David, who laid down the laws of the pheno-
mena. The other subjects in connection. with optics
to which we are indebted to him are, his discovery of
the effects of pressure, traction, &c., in producing the
double-refracting power; the phenomena of the
aspects. and conditions of what is.called polarized
light, &c.

The various learned societies of Europe were not
insensible to the advantages which science was reap-
ing from his labours. They therefore fittingly be-
stowed upon him honours and titles.. Indeed, Sir
David has received: more medals and prizes than any
other living man. In 1815 he received the Copley
Medal of the Royal Society for one of his discoveries
in optical science, and soon after was admitted a
Fellow of that body. In 1816 the Institute of France
adjudged to him half of the physical prize of three
thousand francs, awarded for two of the most im-
portant discoveries made in Europe, in any branch of
science, during the two preceding years, and in 1819
he received from the Royal Society the Rumford gold
and silver medals for his discoveries on the polariza-
tion of light. ©

In 1825 the Institute of France elected Sir David
a corresponding member; he has also received the
same honour from the Royal Academies of Russia,
Prussia, Sweden, and Denmark. In 1831 he pro-
posed the meeting at York which led to the establish-
ment of the British Association for the Advancement
232 SIR DAVID BREWSTER.

of Science. In 1831 he was decorated with the
Hanoverian Guelphic Order, and in 1832 was
knighted by William IV. In 1849 he was elected
one of the eight Foreign Associate Members of the
National Institute of France. This honour, coveted
by the most illustrious philosophers of Europe and of
the whole world, is conferred by the Academy only
after a rigorous examination of the scientific claims
of the candidates, who are proposed to the Institute
by a commission of five members, of which Arago was
the reporter. The eight members are usually re-
‘garded as the cight greatest celebrities in the learned
world.

The works that Sir David has written, in addition
to those already enumerated, are, a “ Treatise on the
Kaleidoscope,” a “ Treatise on Optics,” “ Letters on
Natural Magic,” a “Life of Sir Isaac Newton,”
“More Worlds than One,” “ Pluraliity of Worlds,”
&e, He is also the author of many papers in the
serials and magazines, and also one of the editors of
the “London and Edinburgh Philosophical Maga-
zine.”

He has been awarded a pension of £300; and
surely if ever man was deserving a pension, it will be
conceded that Sir David Brewster is that man. Who
can properly estimate the toil and concentrated
thought bestowed upon his various works? Manual
labour, however severe, cannot be contrasted with
such intense mental application. “Work” is the
WORK AND HEALTH. 233

motto of his life. And yet, hard as he has worked,
by a judicious care of his physical health, he is pre-
served to the present day, with his mental powers
undimmed, and his interest in the revelations of
science undiminished.
,

/ WILLIAM HOWITT:
POET, NOVELIST, AND HISTORIAN.



Tux names of William and Mary Howitt are as fami-
liar to the English reader as “household words.”
Not only have they contributed largely to the litera-
ture of their country, but they have been the means
of moulding and improving the style of authorship
in the direction in which they have employed their
talents; which, before their time, was exceedingly .
lax and uninteresting. This has special reference to
books written for juveniles. At one time it was cus-
tomary to suppose that any kind of writing would
serve for books for the young; and hence the books
produced forty or fifty years ago may now be pro-
nounced the veriest trash. We are largely indebted
to William and Mary Howitt for the change which
marks this class of literature. They wisely saw that
the needs of young persons demanded a pure and ele-
vated style of writing; familiar and interesting, as a
matter of course, but not less elegant, not less carefully
prepared in relation to facts, than if the books were
to be studied by the most matured and intelligent
fr

HIS EARLY EDUCATION. 235

readers. And why should they not, indeed? Surely
it is as important to start well as it is to go on well.
What must be the result of a young person, apt and
quick in his perceptions, reading a book slovenly
written, the facts of which have been ill prepared, and
therefore not reliable? The method of composition
adopted in the book would sink into his memory, and
would certainly contribute to form the manner ot
constructing his own sentences. Hence we see that
a book read for mere amusement is an important edu-
cational agency, in the selection of which too much
care cannot be taken. Ifa parent, then, is commend-
ably interested in the character of his son’s com-
panions, ought he not to be equally as much so in
the books which he reads ?

We shall not find, nor do we expect to find, much
startling adventure in the life of William Howitt.
However it is not devoid of interest, or even of the
romantic. He was born in the year 1795, at Heanor, in
Derbyshire, where the family have been considerable
iandowners for many generations. His father having
married a member of the Society of Friends, was the
occasion of his becoming one also, and bringing up
his children in the same principles. William received
his education in various schools, after which'he de-
voted himself to the study of chemistry, natural and
moral philosophy, and the acquirement of a know-
ledge of the best authors of England, France and
Italy ; subsequently he not only attained an intimate
286 WILLIAM IOWITT.

acquaintance with the best German authors, but be-
came also a finished German scholar. Strange to
say, the principles of the Society of Friends did not
deter him in his youthful years from contracting a love
for field sports, which he followed with much ardour
and devotion. Shooting, coursing and fishing, were his
chief amusements, in which he became an acknow-
ledged proficient. Probably it was these out-door
sports which first directed his attention to the subjects
of botany and natural history, with which he very
early became familiar, and which doubtless tended
to develop his peculiar poetic temperament. In his
28th year he married Miss Mary Botham, of Uttoxe-
ter, who was also a member of the Society of Friends.
Surely a more admirable companion William could
not have selected. The name of “ Mary Howitt ” we
have learned, not only to respect, but to love. Per-
haps we are more indebted to her than to any living
woman for a graceful, pleasing class of juvenile books
that has largely influenced,the youth of our country.
In 1823 William and Mary Howitt published their
first work, entitled, ‘The Forest Minstrel.” From
the press and the public it met with a warm reception,
while their brother poets looked upon it most approv-
ingly. Their contributions to the various annuals in-
troduced their names to the notice of a wide circle,
whom they charmed by the sweetness of their wood-
notes.

When the “ Forest Minstrel”? had been completed,
LITERARY PRODUCTIONS. 237

~

William and Mary took a walk of more than five hun-
dred miles through Scotland, taking the English lakes
on their return. This journey was accomplished with-
out fatigue, and with considerable physical benefit. In
1881 William sent out his charming ‘‘ Book of the
Seasons ;” and in 1837, while he was residing at the
pretty village of Esher, the most popular of his works,
“The Rural Life of England,” full of delightful des-
criptions of country life. Then followed a work entitled
“ Colonization and Christianity ;” ‘“ The Boy’s Coun-
try Book ;” and “ Visits to Remarkable Places, Old
Halls, and Battle Fields, and Scenes illustrative of
striking Passages in English History.”” When these
labours were ended, William took his family to
Heidelberg ;—while there both he and his wife availed
themselves of the opportunity of increasing their
knowledge of the German language, as well as storing
their minds with facts in relation to the Germans, to
be used in future publications. In 1841 William sent
out his “Student Life in Germany.” During their
stay at Heidelberg Mary learned the Swedish language,
which enabled her to translate the novels of Miss
Bremer. - The books which were afterwards. published
as the result of the residence in Germany were “‘ The
Rural and Domestic Life of Germany,” and “ Ger-
man Experiences.” Then followed, on William’s re-
turn to England, a volume on “The Aristocracy in
England ;” and, in the year following, the “ Haunts
and Homes of British Poets.” The secret of the
238 WILLIAM HOWITT.

interest of these books is found in the fact that their
author really visited the places he described. He has
written also several admirable works of fiction. “The
Hall and the Hamlet,” and “‘ Madame Dorrington
and the Dene ;”’ and in 1851, ‘“‘ The Year-Book of the
Country,” “ Translations of Peter Schlemihl,” “The
‘Wanderings of a Journeyman Tailor,” etc. Amongst
the children’s books which came from his pen, special
mention should be made of ‘‘ Jack of the Mill,’”’ and
The Boy’s Book about Australia.”

In 1846 William became a co-proprietor in a serial
work entitled “The People’s Journal,” a speculation
in which he lost a considerable sum of money. He ,
afterwards published “ Howitt’s Journal,” which
reached at one time an amazing circulation. In 1852
he visited Australia for the purpose of making him-
self acquainted with the habits and customs of the
settlers in that country, as well as to indulge his
natural spirit of adventure. On returning home he
gave the public the result of his experience in two
volumes, entitled ‘‘ Land, Labour, and Gold; or Two
Years in Victoria; with Visits to Sydney and Van
Diemen’s Land.”

Mary Howitt, during the industrious life of her
husband, was by no means idle. In addition to the
works published in connection with him, she is the
author of a series of dramatic sketches, entitled ‘The
Seven Temptations,” “ Wood Leighton,” and many
admirable volumes in prose and verse for children.
THE GLD LABOUR LESSON. , 239

She also translated from the Swedish the works of
Hans Christian Andersen ; and edited for three years
the “ Drawing-room Scrap-book.” Her most popular

. Juvenile writings are “The Children’s Year,” “Our
Cousins in Ohio,” “ Mary Leason,” and “The Dial
of Love.”

It is evident from this cursory glance at the life of
William and Mary Howitt, that their talent for
authorship has been fullyemployed. If they had had
merely the capability for writing, and not also the
talent of industry, very few books would have been
published with their names. But with industry what
have they not achieved? Look at the immense
labour involved in the production of their various
works, the mere manual exertion of transcribing
which would be an enormous task. And then sce
how regularly their books have issued from the press,
clearly proving, famous as the Howitts have become,
that the old labour road is the means by which that
fame has been achieved. ~
THE RIGHT HON. B. DISRAELI:

BOY IN AN ATTORNEY’S OFFICE, AND NOW THE
EMINENT STATESMAN,

“A failure is nothing ; it may be deserved, or it may be
remedied: inthe first instance, it brings self-knowledge; in
the second, it develops a new combination, usually triumph-
ant.” —DIsRaELi.

Never say fail. Let circumstances be adverse, let
difficulties arise apparently insurmountable, let every
door seem closed, no hope in the heart, or light on
the solitary pathway of the weary wayfarer, and then,
even then, let stoutness of purpose and resoluteness
of will dare once more—brave the storm and mount
the breach even once again. It is only by failing
that a man is known, How can we tell what is in a
man if his life is all sunshine—if he lives only in a
continual round of prosperity? Let him, however,
endure reverses; sink under some loss, some un-
expected disaster, and then you shall right speedily
have knowledge whether there is in him manship
which shall endure and again dare—rising, phcenix-
like, from the ashes of ruin. That is to be a man.
In some of these particulars the Right Honourable
ENERGY AND PERSEVERANCE. 241

Benjamin Disraeli is a notable example. He has
failed; but, having courage and resolution, he has
dared again and again, and finally, as a fitting con-
summation, he has triumphantly succeeded. The
secret of his success is to be found in the conscious-
ness of his own powers, and in an invincible resolution
to succeed. He might fittingly adopt as his motto,
* Indomitable energy, and unflagging perseverance.”
These were the instruments of his success—the talis-
man converting the obscure student into the formid-
able debater, the consummate orator, the world-read
author, and the prominent statesman.

He was born in London, in December, 1805, and
is the descendant of a Hebrew family. His an-
cestors emigrated from the Peninsula in the fifteenth
century, selecting as their future residence the Ve-
netian Republic; here they existed as merchants for
more than two centuries. The laws of England being
relaxed in relation to Jews, about a hundred years
ago, was the occasion of Benjamin Disraeli—the
grandfather of “ Disraeli the younger,” settling in
England. His son Isaac became an author of great
celebrity ; his best work, ‘“‘ The Curiosities of Litera-
ture,” will be a treasured classic so long as the English
language is read.

Benjamin, the subject of our sketch, was educated
at a suburban academy, where it is said he frequently
declared his determination to arrive at distinction as
a senator. No doubt at the time this would be

R
242 THE RIGHT HON. B. DISRAELI.

deemed a boyish boast; subsequent events have shown
that, without being a prophet, he had the shrewdness
to picture in his imagination a position which he
wished to attain, and then that he had the needed
resolution to battle with every difficulty until he stood
at the desired goal.

His first situation, after leaving school, was in the
office of a metropolitan attorney, where, notwithstand-
ing its uneongenial character, ill suited as it was to
the ardent longings of so determined an aspirant, he
doubtless obtained much practical information, whieh
has since been turned to good account. Subsequently
he had the opportunity of travelling through the
principal cities of Germany, acquiring, as he pro-
ceeded, a practical knowledge of the manners,
customs, and laws of the country. In addition to
which, as an evidence of his industry, he had com-
pleted his first literary venture before his twenty-first
year. “Vivian Grey” became the fashion at all the
libraries, and attracted by its freshness and spirit
the attention of the reading world. At the same
time that this brochure was being eagerly read, its
author had undertaken the editorship of a newspaper
—“The Representative”—published by John Mur-
ray, the prince of publishers. This speculation might
be styled “ failure number one.”” The paper ran only
six months, involving a loss, within that comparatively
brief period, of £70,000! This was in 1826, while
Disraeli had not yet attained his majority !
PREDICTS HIS GREATNESS. 243

After this failure, in order further to improve his
knowledge of classic countries, he visited Italy and
Greece, where he had an opportunity, on the fields of
Albania, to learn something of the desolating effects
of a civil war. During the next year was published
“The Voyage of Captain Popanilla. By the author
of ‘ Vivian Grey.”” This work completed, a journey
through Syria, Egypt, and Nubia was projected. In
these wanderings, doubtless, the young novelist stored
up much of the material which was afterwards
brilliantly used in the composition of his more cele-’
brated works. On his return home, in 183], he
published his “ Young Duke,” described as “a moral.
tale, though gay.”

But writing novels was not the goal to which ke
aspired—he had predicted that he should arrive at
senatorial honours; and, therefore, he must needs
take a step in that direction.. There was only one
course—to seek to obtain the suffrages of some eon-
stituency willing to send him to the House of Com-
mons as their representative. At the time of which

_we are now writing, the year of grace 1832, the
people of England were discussing the question of
Parliamentary Reform, which furnished, so thought
Disraeli, a suitable opportunity for furthering his
views. Chipping Wycombe, about five miles from
his father’s residence, had the honour of. his first
address; yet, notwithstanding that he was introduced
by the celebrated Joseph Hume, the electors

R 2
244 THE RIGHT HON. B. DISRAELI.

passed him by, for less gifted candidates. This may
be named as failure number two. Subsequently he
again appeared on the Wycombe hustings, only again
to experience defeat. Did he despair? anything but
that. He simply waited for events more auspicious ;
and in the meantime turned his talents in the direc-
tion in which he had already reaped laurels. In the
same year of his parliamentary disappointment, theme-
morable 1832—the year of the Reform Bill, appeared
“ Contarini Fleming,” in four volumes. In 1838 this
was followed by the “‘ Wondrous Tale of Alroy,” in
which ample use was made of the information obtained
during his travels through Egypt and the Holy Land.

And now, conceiving that the public had sufficient
interest in his political opinions to desire to know what
they really were; and, in answer toa taunting question
that he accidentally overheard in reference to himself:
‘© What is he?” he straightway issued a sixpenny
pamphlet in which he contrived to explain what were
and what were not his political views. This pamphlet
was appropriately called: “ What is He?” Hisnext
work, intended to be but an instalment, ‘‘ The Revo-
lutionary Epic,” was a failure, and therefore not pro-
ceeded with.

Once more, on the 16th of December, in 1836, he
essayed to obtain the suffrages of the good people of
High Wycombe—but with his old fate. They had no
leanings to the brilliant author. Disraeli had his
revenge in the publication of his speech delivered to
“ NEVER SAY FAIL.” 245

the electors under the title of the “ Crisis Examined.”
And then, as a further proof of his study of the
political institutions of the country, he addressed a
volume of two hundred pages to the Lord Chancellor
Lyndhurst, entitled “‘A Vindication of the English
Constitution.” During the same year he became a
cahdidate for the suffrages of the inhabitants of the
borough of Taunton—but he was once more doomed
to disappointment, Mr. Labouchere having two votes
to his one. Surely he must have adopted as his
motto: ‘Never say fail,’ or these repeated disap-
pointments would have disgusted him with public life.
During the Taunton contest he became embroiled
in a dispute with the great liberator, Daniel O’Connell;
at one time the business looked very serious, so that
it was expected that that relic of barbarism, a duel,
would have been resorted to. Happily, with the ex-
ception of bitter words, which would have been better
unsaid and-unwritten—all ended well. Disraeli con-
cluded one of his letters to O’Connell with “ We shall
meet at Philippi,” indicating that the arena in which
they would meet would be the House of Commons,
as it has since proved, a true prophecy ; but which,
at the time, taking into account his repeated failures
to enter the house, seemed an idle boast.

This political episode ended, Disraeli next employed
himself in the composition of a series of letters which
appeared in the “ Times,” to which the name “ Runy-
mede” was appended; then followed in succession
246 THE RIGHT HON. B. DISRAELI.

* Henrietta Temple,” in three volumes, and “ Vene-
tia,’ also in three volumes. These books were well
received, achieving a great sale. They will no doubt
always form a part of standard English fiction.

But “ at long and at last,” as if Dame Fortune was
tired out, Disraeli attained, for the time being at
least, the consummation of his wishes. In his thirty-
second year he entered Parliament as member for
Maidstone. Who after this will not cry “ Excelsior !”
But with singular ill-judgment, before the “ new
member” had become accustomed to the forms of
the house, before he had learned the tone so needed
for obtaining the “ ear” of the house—he essayed his
first speech. It was a signal failure. It would have
been a wonder had it not been. The debate had been
opened by the unfortunate Smith O’Brien, who was
followed by Mr. Bulwer, Sir William Follett, Sir
Francis Burdett, and last, though not least, Daniel
Q’Connell. Then it was that Disraeli rose, doubtless
anxious to fulfil the prophecy of meeting his old
antagonist “ at Philippi,”? and lo! here was the oppor-
tunity. That speech, so say the incorruptible pages
of “ Hansard,” was received with shouts of laughter,
drowning the conclusion of many of the sentences of
the “honourable member.” When silence was
partially restored he concluded his first parliament-
ary effort with these very remarkable words :—

“I would certainly gladly hear a cheer, even though
it came from a political opponent. Iam not at all sur-
HIS FAILURES. 24:7

prised at the reception I have experienced. I have
begun several times many things, and I have often suc-
ceeded at last. I shall sit down now, but the time will
come when you will hear me.”

No doubt this prediction also was received with
renewed shouts of laughter; but many of the laughers
have lived to realize its complete fulfilment. Warned,
however, by this failure, Disraeli “ bided his time,”
profiting in the meanwhile by his attention. to the
business ofthe house. He educated himself so success-
fully to the tone and manner of this “ first assembly
of gentlemen,” that eighteen months had not elapsed
from his entrance into the. house before he was heard
with respect and attention. During the same year
he published a five-act tragedy entitled “Don Carlos,”
and, a much more important matter, entered into the
holy band of wedlock—marrying the daughter of John
Evans Esq., of Brunceford Peak, in Devonshire, and
relict of Wyndham Lewis, Esq., of Greenmeadow in
Glamorganshire.

In 1841 Disraeli was returned ‘to Parliament for
the borough of Shrewsbury, and in 1844 sent out his
most popular work—‘ Coningsby; or, the New Ge-
neration.”” Three editions were speedily exhausted.
Lt was also translated .into several European languages,
while’ fifty thousand copies were sold in America.
Twelve months after appeared “Sybil; or, the Two
Nations,” and “Tancred,” both of which enhanced
the fame of the now popular author.
248 THE RIGHT HON. B. DISRAELI.

But authorship was not the culmination of his hopes;
he had prophesied that he should attain to distinction
in the “ Commons,” and to that end had sedulously
attended to his parliamentary duties. In 1842 he
was not only tolerated as a speaker, but looked upon
as a power to be courted or dreaded. Indeed, it is
even affirmed that Sir Robert Peel was desirous of
securing his talents to his own great party; had he
done so, he would have been saved from his attacks
in opposition, which were certainly the most severe
and harassing that any political chief was ever subject
to. ‘The conflict,’ says one writer, “seemed so
utterly unequal, that any man who had foretold its
issue would have been regarded as fit only for a
lunatic asylum.” “No wonder,” says another writer,
“the House learnt at length to recognise in the ex-
member for Maidstone the most brilliant satirist and
one of the most gifted and daring debaters within the
walls of the legislature.’ This was the man laughed
down in his first speech! How truly had he com-
pleted his prediction that the time would come when
“they would hear him.”

Immersed in parliamentary duties, he did not forget,
however, the arena in which he had won his first
laurels. In 1849, in connection with a reprint of the
* Curiosities of Literature,”’ was published a ‘‘ Life
of Isaac Disraeli,” from his pen, which was succeeded
in 1851 by “Lord George Bentinck; a Political
Biography.” The sudden death of this celebrated
LEADING THE OPPOSITION. 249

nobleman made way for Disraeli’s attainment of the
highest position as a parliamentary leader. As the
undoubted head of the great Conservative party, he
had no compeer: the position was at once ceded to
him as his right, which he has since held with dis-
tinguished ability. When parliament met in 1849,
Mr. Disraeli took his position as the recognized leader
of the opposition, being then only in his forty-fourth
year. Three years later and he became, in Lord
Derby’s first cabinet of 1852, Minister of Finance ;
a position which his most sanguine friends could not
have anticipated. In the next year he received the
degree of D.C.L. from the Oxford University, amid
the enthusiastic plaudits of the assembled under-
graduates.

We have thus seen how the lawyer’s clerk, the
obscure student, by dint of industry and perseverance,
raised himself to the proud position of Chancellor of
the Exchequer of the greatest country on the face of
the globe. It is a spectacle of which the country has
just cause to be proud. And while Napoleon said
that every private soldier in his army carried a mar-
shal’s baton in his knapsack, it may be affirmed with
greater truth that every youth, every young man,
every private citizen in England, in the exercise of
courage, determination, and diligence, may achieve a
position of probity, of honour, and it may be of fame.
On this subject we cannot more fittingly conclude
than by quoting the words of Disraeli. addressed to
2560 THE RIGHT HON. B. DiSRAELI.

the members of the Manchester Atheneum :—* I
would address myself to that youth on whom the
hopes of all societies repose and depend. I doubt not
that they feel conscious of the position which they
occupy—a position which, under all circumstances,
at all periods, in every clime and country, is one
replete with duty. The youth of a nation are the
. trustees of posterity; but the youth I address have
duties peculiar to the position which they: occupy.
This is their inheritance. They will be called upon
to perform duties—great duties. I, for one, wish, for
their sakes, and for the sake of my country, that they
may be performed greatly. I give to them that
council which I have ever given to youth, and which
I believe to be the wisest and the best: I tell them
to aspire. I believe that the man who does not look
up will look down; and that the spirit that does not
dare to soar is destined perhaps to grovel. Every
individual is entitled to aspire to that position which
he believes his faculties qualify him to occupy.”
251

FRANCIS HORNER:
SON OF AN EDINBURGH MERCHANT, AND THE
UNIVERSALLY RESPECTED MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT.



‘‘Tuxr valuable and peculiar light in which Horner
stands out—the light in which his history is calculated
to inspire every right-minded youth, is this—he died
at the age of thirty-eight, possessed of greater public
influence than any other private man, and admired,
beloved, trusted, and deplored by all except the heart-
less or the base. No greater homage was ever paid
in parliament to any deceased member. Now let
every young man ask how was this attained. By
rank? He was the son of an Edinburgh merchant.
By wealth? Neither he nor any of his relatives ever
had a superfluous sixpence. By office? He held but
one, and only for a few years, of no influence, and
with very little pay. By talents? His were not
splendid, and he had no genius; cautious and slow,
his only ambition was to be right. By eloquence?
He spoke calm good taste, without any of the oratory
that either terrifies or seduces. By any fascination of
manner? His was only correct and agreeable. By
what, then, was it? Merely by sense, industry, good
252 FRANCIS HORNER.

principles, and a good heart—qualities which no well-
constituted mind need ever despair of attaining. It
was the force of his character that raised him, and
this character not impressed upon him by nature, but
formed out of no peculiarly fine elements by himself.
Horner was born to show what moderate powers, un-
aided by anything whatever, except culture and good-
ness, may achieve, even when these powers are dis-
played amidst the competition and jealousy of public
life.” ,

Francis Horner, the son of Mr. John Horner, a
merchant of Edinburgh, was born in that city on the
12th of August, 1778. His parents were happily
gifted with good sense and taste; and had diligently
acquired the information that enabled them to take
the charge and direction of their son’s education.
As a result of their wise training they lived to see him
loved and honoured by the wise and good; and tc
spend his energies in the service of his country. His
mother says, in a letter written soon after his death :
“Frank was a delicate infant, and continued long a
weakly child. I taught him to read and thought him
dull; but at six years of age he distinguished himself
at his first school, and was the pride of his master.
At the annual examination, after he went to the
school, upon his reciting a poem, I overheard one of
the examiners, the late Dr. Adam, ask ‘ the name of
that fine boy.’ His earliest friend was Henry
Brougham (now Lord Brougham), for before we left
PLAYING AT PREACHING. , 258

St. David Street, in May. 1780, they used to run to-
gether on the pavement before our house. Frank
never was idle, even at that age; when hecame home
from church, he used often to repeat parts of the
service in the nursery ; he said he should like to be a
parson, and my mother made him a black gown and
bands. One day wlien Mr. Blair, afterwards presi-
dent of the Court of Session, was dining with us, my
little fellow was invited into the room after dinner,
dressed in his gown and bands; and the manner in
which he went through his part struck Mr. Blair so
much, that he said to me, ‘ you must bring up that boy
to the bar.’ He went to the theatre for the first time
the winter following ; the play was “ Hamlet,” with the
afterpiece of the “ Poor Soldier :” much to our astonish-
ment, he soon after repeated the soliloquy of Hamlet ;
acted several of the different characters, even to the
ghost, without confusion ; did the same with some of
those in the “ Poor Soldier ;” and sang the songs with
great humour. He was not unhealthy, but never
robust ; I often thought that his anxiety to learn his
lessons made him indifferent about his meals. He had
a private tutor in the evening, who, as all who ever
superintended his education, gave him the highest
praise.”

In 1786, he was sent to the High School of Edin-
burgh, where he remained six years. At the exami-
nation of the school, in the’ August of 1792, he was
the head boy of the school, when he then left to go
254 FRANCIS HORNER.

to college. On that occasion he presented a book to
Dr. Adam, which had been subscribed for by the
scholars, as a mark of their esteem and gratitude. It
was then that he first spoke in public. The speech,
which was in Latin, was his own composition; and
according to Lord Cockburn “ was well composed, and
well spoken.” He had at that period of his life ac-
quired a character for gravity and earnestness ; his
companions were accustomed to speak of him as “ the
sage,” and “ the Ancient Horner.” He remained at
college until 1795, where he pursued his studies with
the utmost assiduity, acquiring a knowledge of mathe-
matics, natural philosophy, logic, moral philosophy,
rhetoric, and French. In his last year he became a
member of the ‘Juvenile Literary Society,” con-
nected with the college. Afterwards, in order to free
him from any provincial accent, it was resolved that
he should prosecute his studies in England. For this
purpose he was placed under the care of the Rev. John
Hewlett, at Shacklewell, in Middlesex. We learn
from his letters to his father and friends how earnestly
he devoted himself to his studies. Writing to his
father he said: “I shall endeavour, my dear father,
to give you an idea of the manner in which I now
pass my time; though that I shall be better able to
do sometime afterwards, when I have methodised the
‘business of each day, and become accustomed to a
fixed plan, without which it is impossible to carry on
study of any kind with the least profit or dispatch. I
INTENSE INDUSTRY. 255

make a point of reading Greek or Latin every day.
The ‘ Annals of Tacitus,’ and ‘ Hiad of Homer,’ are
my present books in that Ime; whatever assistance is
necessary I receive from Mr. Hewlett, who generally
sits with me an hour every day. The afternoon I
devote to mathematics, and otherwise to the forma-
tion of English style, by translating from the French,
attempting original composition, and perusing classical
authors. With respect to one great object for which
you were at the expense and trouble of placing me
here, I think I am beginning to pronounce some words
as Englishmen do, and just to feel the difference be-
tween the rhythm of their conversation and mine. I
find, however, that it will be a much more difficult
matter than it would have been two or three years
ago, and that it would be now, were I blessed with a
more acute and delicate ear.” To Mr. John Archi-
bald Murray, now Lord Murray, he wrote: “ Tell me
how you are managing your studies, what classes you
attend, and what books you are devouring. Isee no-
thing to prevent us carrying on our Disputationes
Academica, though we are 400 miles asunder. Me-
taphysics can war loud enough. Come, I order you,
in thename of Hume, and Smith, and Dugald Stewart,
to select a question immediately, and to begin upon it
in your very first letter. The controversy would be
much the better for our friend Brougham’s assistance,
and I shall give him a hint.” In another letter he
writes : “ You ask, my dear Murray, for an account
556 FRANCIS HORNER.

of my studies: at present I confine them: to the im-
pressing on my mind more strongly those very few
branches of knowledge which I had cultivated before
leaving Edinburgh—mathematics, languages, and your
science of nonsology, each occupying a portion of my
daily employment. This I am obliged to do, on ac-
count of the time which I must spend in considering
the principles of English pronunciation and English
composition. In prosecution of the last of these I
sometimes attempt myself, sometimes translate from
my favourite Rousseau, carrying on at the same time,
under the direction of my friend Mr. Hewlett, a very
rigid examination of the style of Mr. Hume in his
‘ History,’ which I am astonished to find abound so
much both in inaccuracies and inelegancies.”

While he was with Mr. Hewlett, at his recommen-
dation he translated from the French into English,
Euler’s “ Algebra,’’ as affording an admirable exercise
for his reasoning powers, and his talent for analysis
and investigation, which he had so early manifested.
This work was subsequently published and edited by
Mr. Hewlett.

Prior to his entering more immediately upon the
study of the law, to which profession he proposed to
devote himself, he had drawn up a plan of study for
two years which was sufficent for a very extended life.
This shows, however, the ardency and purpose which
possessed him at the time. And if he did not, as his
Own over sanguine expectations anticipated, complete
LAYING DOWN A PLAN. 257

his purpose, he yet succeeded in realizing most mate-
rial and important results. The paper was dated
October, 19, 1797. “Being now on the eve of my
return to Edinburgh, in order to enter seriously on
the study of the Scotch law, at the same time that I
have very much to do in the branches of general
science, as well as in those of polite literature and
erudition, it is proper for me, from this distance, to
take a view of the prospect before me, that, in the
course of the journey which I am about to take, I may
not find myself entirely ignorant of the best route, or
at a loss with respect to the relative position of the
different places. It was a noble spirit in Cicero to
wish and to resolve to advance to the forum at first
with the sure possession of surpassing learning and
eloquence. In the two years that remain to me I
must perfect myself in the Latin and Greek classics ;
acquire an eloquence and facility of English style,
both in writing and in speaking ; make myself a pro-
ficient in the general principles of philosophy, and a
complete master, if possible, of law as a science. Let
me remember, however, that this, though a possible,
isa great undertaking, and will require on my part
that unremitted industry and attention without which
no honour can ever be deserved, and no true honour
ever acquired. Joined to regular and continued
habits of industry, my studies must be prosecuted
likewise in a systematic manner, on a plan previously
laid down, at least sketched in its general outline. It
8
258 FRANCIS HORNER.

is of the utmost importance to a student to limit the
number of his books, and to resist with firmness every
approach towards a habit of desultory reading. In
Greek, for the present, I need only fix my thoughts
on Homer, Demosthenes, Xenophon, and Euripides.
In Latin, I may and must indulge myself in a greater
range of authors: Livy, Tacitus, Cesar, and Sallust ;
the best poets, Virgil, Horace, Lucretius, and Tibullus,
should be regularly studied over and overagain. Let
me at least read daily, without failure on any pretence,
one hundred lines in the ‘ Odyssey’ of Homer, and
apply one hour at least to the orations and rhetorical
works of Cicero. I should be thoroughly acquainted
with the history of pure mathematics. In the mixed
mathematics, and the other branches of physics, in-
cluding chemistry, botany, and natural history, I am
to read the book of nature. As for metaphysics, it is
only on a complete and scientific knowledge of the
principles of human nature, and the theory of morals,
that the path is laid towards the elements of legislative
science. Next to the immediate study of the civil,
municipal, and statute laws themselves, my great
object of acquisition must be the general science of
politics, legislation, and jurisprudence, as systematised
by reasonings and illustrated by history. Besides
what I read of the Institutes and the Commentaries, I
must daily make some progress in the knowledge of
Roman antiquities. It will be proper to compose all
my essays and disquisitions for literary societies on
A SEVERE COURSE OF STUDY. 259

subjects of general law and politics. In the compo-
sition of each, I should aim at an accuracy and extent
of research, a plain, neat, elegant, flowing, didactic
style, as to the language, and pay particular attention
to the beauties of method and arrangement.” In this
outline of the paper the reader will be able to ap-
preciate the earnestness that possessed Horner before
he had attained his twentieth year. Soon after his
return to Edinburgh he became a member of the
Speculative Society, at the same time that Brougham
was admitted. Horner was so regular in his attend-
ance, that fot three years he was only absent from
three meetings.

Being now settled at home in his twentieth year,
we learn from ‘his journal the severe course of study
upon which he entered. “ May 1. This morning I
began a course of French with M. Deville. I intend
to make all my notes on French books in that lan-
guage, as well as all the abstracts I may draw up of
such. I began the 44th chapter of Gibbon’s History.
Examined with critical attention a paragraph in Ches-
terfield’s 142nd Letter; and practised the exercise re-
commended by Blair, of transcribing from memory.
Translated four maxims out of Rochefoucault. Read
to the end of Gibbon. Reviewed the historical part.
May 7. After a day spent in agreeable idleness with
my friend Murray, who is about to set off for London,
I returned to my studies, and began Duck, ‘De Usu
et Auctoritate’ July 15. Read the fifth book of

s2¢
260 FRANCIS HORNER,

Bailly’s Modern Astronomy.’ After Bailly, I read,
just before going to bed, the 295th Letter of Chester-
field. Aug. 17. Read, but can scarcely say I studied,
Bailly, from p. 80 to p. 64. Read in the afternoon
some of Turgot’s ‘ Reflections on the Formation and
Distribution of Wealth” Fes.5. This evening I
finished a paper, the composition of which has occu-
pied me nearly a week, ‘On the Opposition Party in
Parliament.’ The greatest labour I have been
at this winter has been the writing notes from
Hume’s Lectures, of which I have got above 200
folio pages. Feb. 19. Have been doing a little
in the way of civil law, reading the twentieth
beok of the Pandects, on the subject of Pledge and.
Hypothique. I have entered on a plan with Lord
Webb Seymour, of discussmg with him, after
Stewart’s lecture, the different arguments or topics
which it comprehended. April 10. Read a little
Spanish. Read half the first Canto of Delille’s ‘ Jar-
dins.” April 21. Began a course of civil law, with
the serious purpose of passing my trials in the course
of two months. April 23. With a view to style,
studied about thirty lines in Goldsmith’s ‘ Deserted
Village’ April 25. Began ‘Vie de M. Turgot,’
and read to p. 60.”

The journal is occasionally interspersed with reso-
lutions and reflections of a judicious character. In
one place he wrote, “ The single evening in the week
will be laid out to best advantage in translation, or
EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL. 261

the studious and critical perusal of a few of the best
English authors. When Allen’s course expires, I
shall have the hours before breakfast of the remain-
ing three months to give to Cicero’s ‘ Orations,’ and
perhaps I may add those of Demosthenes.” On March
26th he entered in the journal,—“ In a fortnight it
will be my turn to read a paper at the Speculative
Society, for the subject of which I have chosen the
‘Circulation of Money.’ April 8. I found the sub-
ject one of too great difficulty. After amusing myself
within four days, I have changed the subject of my
paper. I read this evening some remarks on the in-
fluence of a great commercial metropolis on the pro-
sperity of the state. I rather congratulate mysem
that I wrote above one-half of the disquisition at one
sitting this forenoon, and that I read the whole of it
from the first draught, without being reduced, as for-
merly, to the sad task of copying. April 18. Four
hours in the forenoon on the subjects of Tack and
Wadset ; refreshed myself before dinner with a few
chapters of Livy. In the afternoon Brougham and
I went over the title in Erskine’s ‘ Principles of the
Vassal’s Right.? May 8. This was a rambling sort
of day. Brougham came to grind, and we had nearly
gone through the title to ‘ Adjudications,’ when
Lord Webb called. We set out together and had a
little chemical chat. May 11. Walked out with my
father. As we went along I got some valuable com-
mercial information. Indeed, if I were awake to the
262 FRANCIS HORNER.

opportunities that I daily possess, I might receive
from my father a good deal of information in that
time. May 19. I cannot resist, as I ought to do, the
luxurious temptations of afine evening; especially when
I can enjoy it in a solitary walk, and absorb myself
in the delirium of meditative romance. All my plans
of life have been reviewed this evening, and I have
suffered my imagination to pursue, with unrestrained
sensibility, the track of future scenes. Such fits of
musing may have a decided effect even in realizing
their ‘own fond anticipations, if I can always guide
them to leave upon me this valuable impression, that
my objects must be simplified, my views systematised,
my ambition concentrated. June 6. Stood my trials,
and passed.”

On the 22nd of July he entered in his journal a
note which gives an indication of the spirit by which
he was possessed in the prosecution of his studies.
“Tremember Gibbon has in one of his volumes a note
upon the erudition of Sir William Jones, which, in
the recollection, spreads a glow and pulsation over my
whole frame: ‘ He was equally acquainted with the
term reports of Westminster Hall, with the laws of Hin-
dostan, and with the decisionsof the Persian Cadhis.’”’
In the entry of Nov. 27, we are informed that on that
day he finished a law paper, the first upon which he had
been employed in any case of importance, relative to
a question between the incorporated trades of Edin-
burgh and Leith. “ My afternoons and evenings,”
SELF-DENIAL AND PERSEVERANCE. 263

he further wrote, “are rigorously given to legal studies,
except the regular relaxation at the Chemical Society,
and in the works of Bacon, and the occasional relaxa-
tion at the Speculative Society. Four evenings in the
week I strictly command; and I extend the sitting for
more than five, or sometimes six hours.” On the 23rd
of January he wrote in his journal, “ This forenoon I
pleaded the cause which I studied last night against
Gillies (afterwards Lord Gillies), a man of a very
vigorous intellect. I lost the question, from the de-
merits of my plea, as Iam bound to believe, not from
the imperfections of my eloquence. Yet, what is that
mysterious power of self-possession which is gifted to
some men, and withheld from others, according to the
constitution of their nerves and blood-vessels-—which,
deserting us when we are placed in a new situation,
palsies the faculty of memory in its recollection of
what has been most recently imprinted, and suspends
the course of those habits which long exercise had
formed?” In another place he wrote, to mark his ap-
preciation of the qualities by which he attained his sub-
sequent eminent position: ‘Self-denial, perseverance,
inflexible assiduity, what virtues you are! but what
. exertions you require! That ambition which can sub-
mit to present mortification and to long dull drudgery
for the attainment of remote honour, is like that. for-
titude which can reason in the midst of danger—the
attribute not of man, but of God.”

In the March of 1802, Horner removed to London.




264 FRANCIS HORNER.

At that time he was only in his twenty-fourth year.
On the 31st day of that month he entered a note in
his journal which is interesting, as it gives a vivid im-
pression of the lecturing of the great Davy :—“ I have
been once to the Royal Institution, and heard Davy
lecture on animal substances, to a mixed and large
assembly of both sexes, to the number of three hundred
or more. It is a curious scene: the reflections it
excites of an ambiguous nature; for the prospect of
possible good is mingled with the observation of much
actual folly. The audience is assembled by the in-
fluence of fashion merely ; and fashion and chemistry
form a very incongruous union. At the same time
it is a trophy to the sciences; our great advance is
made towards the association of female with mascu-
line minds in the pursuit of useful knowledge, and
another domain of pleasing and liberal inquiry is in-
cluded within the range of polished conversation.
Davy’s style of lecturing is much in favour of himself,
though not perhaps entirely suited to the place; it has
rather a little awkwardness, but it is that air which
bespeaks real modesty and good sense: he is only
awkward because he cannot condescend to assume the
theatrical quackery of manner which might have a
more imposing effect. This was my impression from
his first lecture. I have since met Davy in company,
and was much pleased with him ; a great softness and
propriety of manner, which might be cultivated into
elegance; his physiognomy struck me as being superior
CULTURE OF THE MIND. 265

to what the science of chemistry on its present plan
can afford exercise for; I fancied to discover in it the
lineaments of poetical feeling.” After entering him-
self at Lincolu’s Inn he wrote: “The great duty of
self-improvement and of intellectual culture, with
reference to those active scenes in which my life is to
be passed, occupies frequent and large intervals of my
present meditations ; and I am anxious to arrange, in
one vast systematic picture before my imagination,
the labours of professional preparation, the duties of
private benevolence and influence, the possible contin-
gencies of political activity, and the certain relaxations
of literature and philosophy. I keep in a separate
memorandum book a set of short notes, in which I
record from day to day such reflections as occur to my
mind on these important views; I have prefixed to
the other book of notes a quaint but expressive title,
eomposed of two phrases that are the favourites of
Lord Bacon—‘ Culture of the mind, and command
over fortune.’ ”

In London Horner was privileged to form the
acquaintance of Sidney Smith, Whishaw, Sharp,
Rogers, Wilberforce, and Mackintosh. Of Sharp he
wrote: “He is a very extraordinary man; I have
seen so much of him lately, that I determined every
day to see more of him, as much as I possibly can.
His great subject is criticism, upon which he always
appears to me original and profound ; which I have
not frequently observed in combination. He is both
266 FRANCIS. HORNER.

subtle and feeling. Next to literature, the powers of
his understanding, at once ingenious and plain, show
themselves in the judgment of characters; he has
seen much of the great menof the last generation,
. and he appears to have seen them well. In this par-
ticular his conversation is highly interesting ; ; from
his talent of painting by incidents and minute ordinary
features, he almost carries you. back to the society of
those great personages, and makes you live for a
moment in their presence.”?” When Mackintosh went
to India. Horner wrote a letter to Erskine, in which
he said: “ To Mackintosh, indeed, my obligations
are of a far higher order than those even of the kind-
est hospitality ; he has been an intellectual master to
me, and has enlarged my prospects into the wide
regions of moral speculation more than any other tutor
I have ever had in the art of thinking; I cannot even
except. Dugald Stewart, to whom I once thought. I
owed more than I could ever: receive from another.
Had Mackintosh remained in England, I should have
possessed, ten years hence, powers and views which
are now beyond my reach. I never left his conver-
sation but. I felt a mixed consciousness, as it were, of
inferiority and capability ; and I have now and then
flattered myself with this feeling, as if it promised that
I might make something of myself. I cannot think
of all this without being melancholy.” On the 16th
of May Horner made his first appearance in the House
of Lords. “This day,” he wrote, “I have made my
APPEARS IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS. 267

first appearance at the bar of the House of Lords, and
_ have committed what Hume calls the most presump-

tuous of all attempts—to speak before the chancellor
with less than a month’s study of the laws; for I can
searcely say that I have ever given a month’s study
to Scotch law, or to anylaw. I have probably, there-
fore, spoken to the same effect that Hume describes—
that of labouring to make myself ridiculous. I know
full well that I must at least have been ridiculous,
from my symptoms of trepidation and embarrassment.
Speaking for the first time in any place would make
me nervous; but before so great an assembly (great
from association and previous impression), in a large
hall, those you address at a great distance from you,
with a vacant gap between, is enough to chill all fancy
and all memory. If I had not used the precaution of
full notes, which must become unnecessary as soon as
T can render it so, I should have utterly lost my train
of argument. I scarcely could finish a sentence, and
could find no variety of language to express distinct
ideas. This, I know, partly resulted from having
notes, and from not having courage to trust myself to
invention extempore; but my tongue, in truth, clove
to the roof of my mouth.”

On the 3rd of November, 1806, he was returned to
Parliament by the constituency of Truro; on which
occasion his friend Murray wrote,—“ There is no cir-
cumstance in your life, my dear Horner, so enviable
as the universal confidence which your conduct has
268 FRANCIS HORNER.

produced among all descriptions of men. I do not
speak of your friends, who have been close and near
observers, but I have had some occasion of observing
the impression which those who are distant spectators
have had, and believe there are few instances of any
person of your age possessing the same character for
independence and integrity—qualities for which very
little credit is given in general to young men.” At
the subsequent general election Horner did not obtain
a seat; but in the July following he was elected for
the borough of Wendover. In Parliament he at once
became, if not a brilliant or showy member, a useful
working one, being attached to those committees
which required a laboured attention to minute details.
At the same time his profession was constantly ab-
sorbing more of his time and attention by the increase
of his practice. One of the most useful committees
upon which he sat owes its origin to him—“ to in-
quire into the causes of the high price of bullion, and
the consequent effect on the paper currency.” In
addition to these labours he was, and had been from
its commencement, a constant. :contributor to the
“ Kdinburgh Review.” Occasionally he sought a
little relaxation in travelling to the various scenes of
interest in which the United Kingdom abounds.
Upon one of these occasions, in his absence from
London, he received a letter from Lord Grenville,
which contained an offer of a place in the new minis-
try which that nobleman had undertaken to form.
VISITS JEREMY BENTHAM. “69

He wrote,—‘‘It would afford to me a satisfaction not
to be described if I could hope to persuade you to
assist me as one of the secretaries of the Treasury. I
do not mean to flatter you when I say that I should
myself feel, and I am confident such would be the
universal impression, that I had in that way secured
the assistance of the person in all England the most
capable of rendering efficient service to the public in
that situation, and of lightening the burden which 1
_am to undertake.” This flattering offer Horner de-
clined, having laid down a rule when he went into
Parliament, never to take any political office until he
was rich enough to live at ease out of office.

During one of his excursions Horner visited Ford
Abbey, the residence of Jeremy Bentham ; one of the
rooms, furnished in the taste of King William’s time,
Bentham had converted into what he called his
“scribbling shop ;” two or three tables were set out,
covered with white napkins, on which were placed
two or three music desks, with manuscripts,—his
technical memory. Horner says,—‘ I was present at
the mysteries, for he went on as if we had not been
with him. A long walk after breakfast, and before
his, began the day. He came into the house about
one o’clock, the tea-things being by that time set by
his writing-table, and he proceeded very deliberately
to sip his tea, while a young man, a sort of pupil and
amanuensis, read the newspapers to him, paragraph
by paragraph. This, and the tea together, seemed

s*
270 FRANCIS HORNER.

gradually to prepare his mind for working, in which
he engaged by degrees, and became at last quite
absorbed in what was before him, till about five
o'clock, when he met us at dinner. This is his daily
course throughout the year.””. In 1814, in the com-
pany of the Murrays, Horner, for the first time,
visited France and Italy. On his return towards
France, he brought with him an introduction to
Lafayette, which he had received from Lord Holland
at Geneva, but which he had no opportunity of de-
livering. “It is not,” said his lordship, “I assure
you, every one of my countrymen whom [ think
worthy of being introduced to so consistent and
warm a friend of rational liberty as yourself; but I
cannot deny my intimate friend, Mr. Horner, that
pleasure, because I know he has both sense and prin-
ciples to value such an advantage as it deserves.”

On the 25th of June, 1816, Horner addressed the
House of Commons for the last time. The subject
was the cause of religious liberty in Ireland. At this
time symptoms of pulmonary affection had appeared ;
and although these symptoms were never afterwards
arrested, yet Horner continued the active employment
of his mind, which remained unimpaired to the last
day of his life. In accordance with the recommend-
ation of his medical advisers he sought the more genial
clime of Italy during the winter of 1816. From Pisa
he wrote,—“I am planning what I shall read during
the winter; my idea is, to go through some of the
ILLNESS AND DEATH. 271

best authors of the country, and to keep myself, if I
can, from the temptations of their minor literature.
I have not yet been to the booksellers’ shops, but 1
ascertained there was a pretty good one at Leghorn.
I am making a study of Dante, which is rather too
big a word for any reading of mine now; but I do
not find it a task, and he will make all other writers
more easy to me.” During the time that he was
writing to his friends in England, he was fondly
indulging in the hope of renovated health, and that
his slow recovery would enable him to perfect a plan
of study which he had headed “ Dzsiens.”” These
designs cover a field of vast expanse. Both the
philosophy of jurisprudence, and the application of its
principles to every important practical question which
has in later days occupied the attention of the re-
formers of the law, hold conspicuous places in it.
Catholic emancipation, parliamentary reform, foreign
intervention, slavery, political economy, language,
grammar, and composition, were all to be studied.
But these designs, alas! were not to be completed.
Only a few days afterwards, in his thirty-ninth year,
it was recorded that Francis Horner had departed this
life! His remains were interred in the Protestant
cemetery at Leghorn.

At home the news of his death produced a profound
impression. The “ Morning Chronicle,” in com-
menting on the sad event, said: “ Without the ad-
ventitious aids of station or fortune Horner had
272 FRANCIS HORNER.

acquired a weight and influence in Parliament which
few men whose lives were passed in opposition have
been able to obtain; and for this consideration he was
infinitely less indebted to his eloquence and talents,
eminent as they were, than to the open opinion
universally entertained, of his public and private
rectitude. He was a warm, zealous, and affectionate
friend ; high-minded and disinterested in his conduct;
firm and decided in his opinions; modest and unas-
suming in his manners.” The House of Commons
did itself infinite honour in its mention of the services
of its late member. Mr. Manners Sutton said on that
occasion: “In my conscience I believe there never
lived the man, of whom it could more truly be said
that, wherever he was found in public life, he was
respected and admired—wherever he was known in
private life, he was most affectionately beloved.”
Sidney Smith also bore testimony to the worth of the
departed: “ Horner had an intense love of knowledge;
he wasted very little of the ‘portion of life conceded
to him, and was always improving himself, not in the
most foolish of all schemes of education, in making
long and short verses, and scanning Greek choruses,
but in the masculine pursuits of the philosophy of
legislation, of political economy, of the constitutional
history of the country, and of the history and changes
of ancient and modern Europe. He had read so much
and so well, that he was a contemporary of all men,
and a citizen of all states.”
THE READER’S RESOLVES. 273

And now, dear reader, will you not be the better
for reading this sketch of Horner’s life? Will you
not find yourself stronger, because brilliant talents
are not requisite to the attainment of a brilliant repu-
tation ; full of earnest purpose when you remember
his acquirements—the result of sustained persever-
ance; and seriously determined to live a life of use-
fulness, prompted by his integrity and the singleness
of his unselfish aims ?
274

JOSEPH BROTHERTON :

FACTORY BOY AND MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT.

Tue stranger in Manchester, in visiting places and
objects of attraction, cannot fail to be interested in
the very fine characteristic monument of Joseph
Brotherton, that graces the entrance to Peel Park, in
the adjoining borough of Salford. It was erected by
the inhabitants to mark their respect and estimation
of the services of their first Member of Parliament,
who for four-and-twenty consecutive years, in the
House of Commons, served them faithfully and well.
It is alike honourable to Joseph Brotherton and to
the electors of Salford that their long-tried and useful
member rose to his proud position from one of much
humbleness and obscurity.

Joseph Brotherton was born in the year 1783, in
the little village of Whittington, Derbyshire. His
father at that time performed the double office of
exciseman and schoolmaster. The Board of Excise
removed him to Manchester, when his son Joseph
had attained his ninth year. The duties of his
calling as an exciseman must have been much in-
HARDSHIPS OF HIS LIFE. 275

creased in Manchester; but Mr. Brotherton’s active
mind still demanded additional employment. The
cotton manufacture, which was then in its infancy,
seemed to present the best field for embarking his
small means, and for the exercise of his active life.
In that direction he resolved to turn his attention.
Of course, at that period in the history of Manchester,
the cotton manufacture was very different to what it
is now. Then it was mainly carried on in a very
humble way, the looms being almost entirely worked
by hand, a steam engine being looked upon as a
novelty, there being, in fact, not more than two or
three at work at that time in the whole of Man-
chester. Mr. Brotherton commenced in the business
on avery limited scale. He soon became conscious,
however, that if he succeeded, it would only be by
industry. He was unwilling to give up the office of
exciseman while the question of success was still in
doubt. When Joseph came to the age to be of use
in the little factory he was sent there with his
brothers. It is very probable that he was subjected
to longer hours and harder work than he would have
been, had he not been the son of the owner of the
mill. In after-years, when he stood up in the House
of Commons during the discussion of the Ten Hours’
Bill, he referred to this interesting period of his life,
detailing simply, but wost pathetically, the hardships
and fatigues to which he had then been subjected ;
and his subsequent determination, that if it ever lay
276 JOSEPH BROTHERTON.

in his power, he would use every exertion and com-
pass every means to ameliorate the condition of those
who might be like circumstanced. Sir James Graham,
who followed Joseph on that occasion, declared, amid
the cheers of the whole’ House, that he had not
known that Mr. Brotherton had sprung from so
humble an origin; but that it rendered him more
proud than he had ever been before of the House of
Commons, to think that a person rising from that
condition should be able to sit side by side and on
equal terms with the hereditary gentry of the land.

The success of the elder Brotherton induced him
to give up the exciseman’s office, and devote himself
exclusively to his newer and more profitable calling.
He entered into partnership with a Mr. Booth, when
he was enabled to enter upon larger premises. In
the meantime, Joseph had worked his way, from the
humblest and most menial situation in the mill, to
the honourable position of overlooker. . Subsequently,
as a reward for his exertions, he was admitted as a
partner in the firm.

During all these years he had had few opportunities
for mental cultivation. His time had been most un-
remittingly devoted to labour. The. factory worker
of these days, whose hours are limited by Act of
Parliament, and whose labours are lightened by
every mechanical contrivance, knows nothing of the
severe toil and the protracted hours of the earliest
workers in the cotton manufacture. But severe as
USE AND SERVICE. 277

the labours of Joseph were, his mind was too active
and his feelings too ardent not to make an effort to
attain to some acquaintance with the mysteries of
knowledge. He had received from his father the
rudiments of an English education; and then, when
his training was left in his own hands, every moment
spared from the toils of the mill was devoted most
faithfully to study. Books of a light or trifling
character he despised. His tastes were all in the
direction of physical science. His thoughts were
directed, not to castle-building or day-dreams, which
have so enervating an influence upon true life; but
in dreams of benevolence, in works of goodness, in a
life of use and service.

When he had attained a position of comparative
ease, on the death of his father, when he took his
place in the firm, he was then by no means disposed
to enjoy quiet or leisure. His first thought was,
“What work is there in which I can engage which
will be of use to my neighbours?” On inquiry, he
found that there were in Salford various public
charities bequeathed for the use of the poor. In the
course of years these had become diverted from their
original use, and were appropriated for personal
emolument. Mr. Brotherton’s first task was tho-
roughly to investigate the subject, to track the
windings of the corruption, and bring to light the
delinquencies which had been practised, and thus
bring about a complete reform. The struggle was
278 JOSEPH BROTHERTON.

one protracted over years; but the end rewarded the
exertion.

At that time Salford was a comparatively insigni-
ficant place; it was only then rising to that position
which it has since attained. During its progress
from a village, a mere dependance of Manchester, to
its present position—an important parliamentary
borough—numerous Acts of Parliament had to be
obtained. In all the consequent negotiations Mr.
Brotherton was invariably consulted, his advice being
freely and cheerfully given.

Before his fortieth year he retired from business
upon a small fortune. This is a special trait in his
life. Had he continued in business he might, and
would, have realised a princely estate. Many men,
his inferiors in tact, in industry, and in foresight,
have done so, but then that is all they have done.
He wanted to be something more than a mere accu-
mulator of money. He certainly did not retire from
business to indulge in an ignoble sloth; he worked
as hard, if not harder, than before: now, however, he
worked for the public good, and not for personal
aims or ends.

In 1882, after the passing of the Reform Bill,
which conferred upon Salford the privilege of send-
ing a member to Parliament, the inhabitants wisely
selected their long-tried friend and adviser, Mr.
Brotherton, to represent them in the House of Com-
mons. The inhabitants acted wisely in connecting
FEWNESS OF HIS WANTS. 279

themselves with a man of sterling integrity, a con-
nection which continued uninterruptedly or twenty-
four years, and was only severed by the hand of
death.

On one occasion he referred in the House of Com-
mons to his moderate means. Some honourable
member had been charging him with rolling in
riches, and therefore forgetting the workers who
made the riches. In his reply, Mr. Brotherton said :
** My riches consist, not in the extent of my posses-
sions, but in the fewness of my wants;” a remark
which has been most appropriately placed on the
pedestal of his monument, and which contains so
much true philosophy that it deserves to be written
in letters of gold, and inscribed on every public
building in the kingdom. In Parliament, Mr. Bro-
therton was known for his inflexible opposition to late
hours and protracted sittings. The improvement
which has taken place in the House of Commons in
these respects is, no doubt, the result of his unwearied
efforts.

His personal habits—and it is from these that the
chief lesson of his life is to be derived—were of the
‘most simple and primitive character. He might well
have adopted the motto, “Waste not, want not.”
For forty-six years of his life he lived without par-
taking of animal food, or drinking any kind of intoxi-
cating drinks! And, what will seem strange to some
readers, Mr. Brotherton, instead of considering this a
230 JOSEPH BROTHERTON.

deprivation, was always accustomed to speak of: his
habits as the source of much gratification and happi-
ness. It is evident, from the amount of work he was
enabled to perform, the close attention he paid to public
business and to his parliamentary duties, that high
living is not essential to fitness and capability. Uni-
versal, as well as individual, experience would prove the
contrary. Those men that have been most remark-
able for the amount of work performed have also been
notable instances of abstinence and simple habits.

Fittingly, then, do we close these sketches with the
example of the brave and self-denying life of Joseph
Brotherton, of whom it might be said that no man
during his time attained a higher position in public
estimation, that was so universally trusted or so
generally respected. And yet he was a comparatively
poor man; he had no great family connections, or any
brilliant talents. He had, however, some sterling
qualities, that were worth more than all the gold in
the mines of Golconda, or in the rivers of California:
he was honest, he was industrious, he was abste-
mious,—qualities that made the man, that set him
upjabove his fellows, that earned him his monument,
and that have secured him the respect and admiration
of ages yet to come; qualities that are imitable by
every youth and young man with a spark of earnest-
ness in his breast—that will, if adopted, lead on to a
life of probity, usefulness, and public good.
CLEVER BOYS OF OUR TIME;

How they became Famons Men,

BY THE AUTHOR OF “FAMOUS BOYS,” anp “HEROINES
OF OUR TIME.”

DARTON AND CO., 58, HOLBORN HILL.

' NOTICES OF THE PRESS.

MORNING CHRONICLE.

“In these days of progress, when everything is being improved
beyond recognition (may no profane innovator ever ‘improve’ Christ-
mas), we must of course expect improvement in boys’ books, and we
have it. We are happy to say, however, that we find very little
‘improvement for the worse,’ if we may be permitted the Hibernian-
ism. On the whole, the subjects are better selected, more pains are
bestowed on the literary portion of the work, the illustrations are in
better taste, the typography and binding are better, and, though last
not least, the books are cheaper than in former times. But there is
a general and healthy avoidance of that pedantry, which, of late years,
has tended to make boys’ books a weariness and a sham, a sort of
task-book under false pretences. We do not mean to say that there
is not in some of them a good deal of historical and other ‘useful
information,’ but even when this is so, the subjects seem to have
been chosen mainly because they are interesting and amusing, and
not for the sake of ‘schooling.’ There is much that is admirable in
this ‘work—‘ Clever Boys of our Time, and how they became Famous
Men.’ It is a series of bicgraphies; all well chosen, all likely to in-
terest the youthful reader, and all worthy, more or less, of emulation.
It is an excellent boys” book. The illustrations are interesting, and
decidedly well executed.”

GLOBE.

« The value of this excellent collection of biographies of ‘ clever
boys,’ who have become ‘famous’ in after life, lies in the prominence
which it gives to the means by which they rose. Perseverance, in--

.
2 NOTICES OF THE PRESS.

dustry, self-denial, and integrity were the tools which shaped the genius
of such men as Macaulay, Faraday, Bianconi, Lindsay, Franklin,
Spencer, Brewster, William and Robert Chambers, and the other
heroes of this volume. True, that in most of these instances ‘ the
blessings of both hands’ have been poured out, ‘length of days,
riches, and honour.’ Bat these are not represented as the aim,
though frequent result of ‘ patient continuance in well-doing.’ These
eloquent words might have been chosen for a motto: ‘No human
actions ever were intended by the Maker of men to be guided by
balances of expediency, but by balances of justice. No man ever
knew, or ever will know, what will be the result to himself or to
others of any given line of conduct. But every man may know, and
most of us do know, what is a just and unjust act. And all of us
may know, also, that the consequences of justice will be ultimately
the best possible, both to others and to ourselves, though we can
neither say what is the best, nor how it is likely to come to pass.’
The inculcation of such principles cannot but prove wholesome, both
as stimulus and corrective; and as encouragement to those of meaner
abilities, but to whom the honest use of the one talent will ensure the
gracious words of approval. ‘Faithful in few things’ will be an
epitaph more honourable than all ‘ the boast of heraldry and pomp of
power.’ We must call especial attention to the admirable frontis-
piece, in which the boy Macaulay is represented as ‘telling books’ to

a nursery circle.”
THE GLOBE (Second Notice).

“ Boys are lucky dogs in these days. They have a whole literature
to themselves. ‘There was a time when boys had to content them-
selves with ‘Robinson Crusoe’ and ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ or a few fairy
tales. But the rising generation soars above that. The author of
‘Clever Boys,’ who, by the bye, does not confine himself to those
among them who have grown to be famous and who are not dead,
actually dedicates his book to ‘ youths and young men anxious to rise
in the world,’ It. is a sort of boy-hero worship, and not a bad sort
for those who love the modern better than the ancient plan. But it
is a strong measure for the teacher to dedicate his work to his
pupils.”

MORNING ADVERTISER.

“The author of this work is already favourably known to: the

young of both sexes in this country, by two other productions having
NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 3

a similar object in view, and entitled respectively ‘Famous Boys’ and
* Heroines of our Time.’ Of all the books that can be presented to
the rising generation, certainly none can be better calculated to pro-
duce useful fruit hereafter than those which hold up for the contem-
plation of the youthful mind the picture of men, often struggling with
difficulties in early life, rising to positions of eminence and wealth,
and conferring benefit on society by their labours and their talents.
Apart from the value of such books in a merely biographical point of
view, if the task is honourably and judiciously executed, it possesses a
strong tendency to stimulate into early activity the very qualities
which are the subject of commendation. The selection of worthies in
this collection is one with which few would be likely to find fault,
Some of the subjects, certainly, have rather been successful men
than men of distinguished talent or ability, but still they have
possessed qualities which are worthy the emulation of youth, and
therefore deservedly find a place here. The notices are well and
fairly written, and the perusal of them will, in many instances, be
productive of good results.”
THE ATLAS.

“ Messrs. Darton and Co. have just issued an agreeable book for
youths—‘ Clever Boys of our Time, and How they became Famous
Men: dedicated to Youths and Young Men anxious to Rise in the
World. By the Author of ‘Famous Boys,’ and ‘Heroines of our
Time.’ It traces the career of such eminent men as Lord Macaulay,
Michael Faraday, Charles Dickens, Richard Cobden, George Cruik-
shank, William Fairbairn, the Chambers (Edinburgh publishers),
Sir John Franklin, Arago, Sir. David Brewster, Mr. Disraeli, and
others. he only objection we can find to such books is, that they
may possibly have the effect of inducing boys of ordinary capacity to
pitch their ambition too high, and to fancy they are destined for
something great. We do not want a nation of geniuses or conspicuous
men, or even a nation of feverish aspirants after extraordinary suc-
cess. Still, the book in question is conceived in a healthy spirit,
making industry the great agent of advancement, and is very amus-
ingly compiled and written.”

DAILY CHRONICLE.

“The name of the publisher is a guarantee that this book is a
charming boys’ book. It is eminently suited for a Christmas present,
4 NOTICES OF THE PRESS.

being beautifully bound, printed, and illustrated. The thanks of the
nation are due to Messrs. Darton, for their contributions to juvenile
literature, of a superior class—from their admirable little catechisms,
by Wilson, down. to their latest issue, which we now thus briefly
notice. Every parent, who has a really clever boy, should purchase
‘Clever Boys’ for him as an encouragement.”

NEWS OF THE WORLD.

* Another book which may be put into the hands of boys with ad-
vantage; for it will stimulate their exertions and lead them to habits
of thoughtful industry. The facts relating to Dickens, Lord Macaulay,
Sir John Franklin, Disraeli, and others who were remarkable in their
boyhood, are highly interesting.”

ILLUSTRATED TIMES.

*The book is good, and well calculated to excite the emulative
spirit of youth in the useful and honourable paths of life. Especially
to be commended are. such examples as the Messrs, Chambers, of
Edinburgh, and Mr. Bianconi, the coach proprietor and mayor of
Dublin. The big ends from small beginnings of such men as Arago,
Brewster, Dickeus, and Cobden, will be more familiar to the public ;
but there are examples of genius existing where it was never sus-
pected. These biographies will serve to cheer the minds of the young
of every class of society, by showing that life need not ‘all labour be,’
and that good preparation in boyhood is the best foundation for
success in after life, whether that success is to come from solid in-
dustry, or the golden apple to drop, a windfall, at the feet, through
the divine spark of genius which may brighten into a name. The
stories are well written and correct in detail. The pictures are works
of imagination; that of Mr. Dickens, dropping his first magazine
article into the editor’s letter-box, is a triumph of inventive daring.”

WEEKLY TIMES.

“Very rightly is this book dedicated to youths and young men
anxious to rise in the world. The ‘Clever Boys of Our Time’ all in
after life became men who made their mark on the time 3 and the
chief object of the book seems to be, to furnish, in the careers of about
a score of the most distinguished living men in all phases of celebrity,
an illustration that obscurity of birth or station is no insurmountable
barrier to the progress of real excellence. From the following list
NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 5

of the notabilities selected, it will be seen that in every instance they
have, from adverse circumstances and humble origin, acquired fame and
fortune, and sometimes rich and varied, and even miraculous attain-
ments. There are lives of Lord Macaulay, Faraday, Charles Dickens,
Cobden, Bianconi, George Cruckshank, William Fairbairn, William
and Robert Chambers, Sir John Franklin, William Shaw Lindsay,
Joseph Hume, Dargan, Abel Heywood, Arago, the Rev. Thomas
Spencer, Sir David Brewster, William Howitt, Right Hon. B. Dis-
raeli, Horner, and Joseph Brotherton. In the story of each worthy
we are told whence he came, and what were his early difficulties and
barriers to progress (if there were any), and what were his successes
and his ultimate triumph in life. The lives of some show that the
age of wonders has not passed, There is something really marvellous
in the history of such men as Lindsay, who, from being a poor
friendless orphan and a cabin-boy, became a great shipowner and a
member of Parliament; Bianconi, who, from the wandering Italian
boy, became the great Irish coach proprietor, the owner of more
than 2000 horses, 100 vehicles, harness, stabling, coach-houses, offices,
and the master of 100 men in every part of Ireland; Fairbairn, the
engineer ; Dargan, the contractor—the originator of the building for
the Dublin Exhibition in 1853 ; Heywood, the great news-agent ; and
last, but not least, the two brothers Chambers, who, from being poor
Peebles boys, after locating themselves in Edinburgh, became cele-
brated authors, and the eminent publishers of so many cheap and
useful periodicals. The book will be read with pleasure and advantage
by the young. The advice given and the encouragement held forth
to boys of an aspiring nature in almost every sketch render the work |
to the youth of England one of peculiar interest and profit.”

DISPATCH.

* become modern celebrities, including Macaulay, Faraday, Charles
Dickens, George Cruckshank, and the like, and the volume is pro-
fusely illustrated. It is essentially a book, by precept and example,
likely to do good service.”

EDUCATIONAL TIMES.
“ Tt is certainly one of the most cheering circumstances of the times,

that young people have now a better chance of doing well, if not of
rising in the world, than they ever had. Opportunity’s the thing,
6 NOTICES OF THE PRESS.

is become the proverb amongst us, and has certainly in these days
more instances of verification than has ever been the case hitherto.
The late Lord Macaulay is one of the most recent instances of emi-
nence in literature, which, from his earliest years, he cultivated so
earnestly, so lovingly, and, we may add, so successfully; seeing a
Briton’s coronet and a seat in the noblest, greatest, and probably, too,
the wisest assembly in the world, when considered collectively, were
the certain marks of his success. We may quote a living instance in
the person of William Shaw Lindsay, once a poor friendless orphan
cabin-boy, who is now the great shipowner, and member of the
Imperial Parliament. ‘When he was fifteen he determined to make
a start on his own account.. He had at that time three shillings and
sixpence, saved from gifts of halfpence, His intention, on starting,
was to go to'sea, where he had no doubt he should make his fortune.’
The self-denying boy worked his way from the Clyde to Liverpool,
husbanding his three-and-sixpence, by taking his station in the
engine-room of the steamer, and doing his duty like a man. The
Scotch say, ‘Keep south, lad.” Young Lindsay appears to have
absorbed the meaning of these three monosyllabic words; thus it is
that he hasfound Hngland, or rather London, a place abounding with
riches, of which he has managed to secure even a large share. We
say to every youth, ‘Go and do likewise.’ But mind the means to an
end, Without labour, labour, labour, and economy, with moral habits,
no success in life need be relied on, Eighteen other instances of great
success in life are given in these pages, which cannot fail to be highly
interesting and encouraging to youth, on the conditions we have just

stated.”
THE BOOKSELLER.

“We have here twenty biographical notices of persons widely
different in kinds and degrees of eminence, whose careers, neverthe-
less, all equally-show that nothing is to be done in the world without
hard and persevering labour. Lord Macaulay worked diligently to
become the brilliant ‘poet, orator, essayist, and historian,’ upon
whom his sovereign thought well to bestow a peerage; Charles
Dickens worked diligently to become one of the first novel-writers
of his day; Michael Faraday worked diligently to become the
first chemist: George Cruikshank worked diligently to attain his
peculiar and inimitable power, so wisely and benevolently used. Our
pace will not permit us to go through the whole list of names before
NOTICES OF THE PRESS. z

us, but we must not pass over Richard Cobden, whose life presents
such an admirable example of the influence and effects of this prin-
ciple of persistent exertion. Cobden began life in a subordinate
situation in a London house of business, which he entered, as our
plate represents, at a very youthful age. ‘By steadiness and industry
in discharge of duty, and careful improvement of leisure hours, he
became what we all know he was. The lesson of his life, and of the
volume altogether, is, that if young men wish to attain excellence,
moral or mental, they must be content to deny themselves.”

CITY PRESS.

Here is another capital book for the young, especially for the
boy world; a book which relates how boys possessed of talent, by the
application of that talent, made themselves famous in the world of
literature, of science, of the arts, and as navigators, preachers, states-
men, &e., &e. Among the names of those recorded in this volume
are those of Macaulay, Faraday, Dickens, Cobden, Brewster, Disraeli,
and Brotherton—names familiar as ‘ household words,’ but of whose
early histories the world knows but little. Such a book as this is
worth its weight in gold, not only for the information it gives, but
for the encouragement it holds out to the young, that if they possess
talent, and persevere, they also may make for themselves a name
worthy of being handed down to posterity in a book. ‘Example hath
a louder tongue than precept ;’ and here are examples of a high
order.”

CLERKENWELL NEWS.

“One of the very best kind of books possible to put in the way of
any young lad, to spur him on to assiduous study and perseverance.
‘Truth is strange—stranger than fiction.’ If there be any who doubt
the truth of the adage, let them just take up the ‘ Clever Boys of Our
Time,’ and see at a glance what has been done by some of England’s
famous and brave-hearted factory lads and operatives, hard-up maga~
zine scribblers, and all sorts of needy adventurers from the provinces,
many of whom have entered the great metropolis with the whole of
their wardrobes on their backs, and without a copper in their pockets.
It is a patent fact that the brightest names on the roll of England’s
great and gifted sons are those who have bad a practical knowledge
of what it is to be hard-up in their first set-out in the voyage of dis-
covery after fame and fortune; leading to the inference that, as a
8 NOTICES OF THE PRESS.

general rule, it is the wisest policy to let youth sow before it reaps
the harvest of luxury and ease’; youth for exertion, mature years and
declining age for rational enjoyment and quiet repose. .The volume
under notice comprises necessarily brief biographies of no less than
twenty notabilities, the recollection of some of whom will occur to
thousands now living. With graceful homage to departed genius,
the volume opens with an excellent. and (the space considered) com-
prehensive sketch of Lord Macaulay—a name which every year will
grow moré and more endeared to his countrymen, who in the brilliant
historian will forget his identification with the school of politicians
over which he shed the bright lustre of his rare abilities and attractive
eloquence, and who combined in his person the grace of the finished
orator with the power of the brilliant writer—a combination seldom
met with, but which in him culminated to the utmost extent of
human perfectibility.. There are some well-executed engravings inter-
spersed throughout it, and the whole getting up of the work is highly
creditable to all concerned—printer, publisher, engraver, and book-
binder—a volume, in fact, admirably adapted for the Christmas
season, when the majority of folks feel good-natured, and disposed to
make a present of some sort or other to their young friends and
acquaintances, In a general way, a more suitable gift could not be
put in the hands of Young England than the ‘Clever Boys of Our
Time.’”
LONDON REVIEW.
“This volume is well suited as a prize book for schools.”

MANCHESTER EXAMINER. AND TIMES,

“Clever Boys of our Time, and how they became Famous Men’
(Darton and Co.), is another volume from our townsman, whose ‘Fa-
mous Boys’ and ‘ Heroines of our Time’ found so large a circle of
readers. We scarcely need say that the object of the writer is to
stimulate youth to activity and determination of character, by pre-
senting instances of boys who have risen from the lower strata of
society to eminence through such qualities, The anecdotes are simple,
told without; attempt at what is called fine writing, and the book
is crowded with interesting facts, well adapted to stir up a spirit of
emulation,”

DARTON AND CO., HOLBORN HILL.
By the same Author,
FAMOUS BOYS OF OUR TIME,

AND

HOW THEY BECAME GREAT MEN.
Also,
HEROINES OF OUR TIME,

BEING SKETCHES OF

THE LIVES OF EMINENT WOMEN.

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

“TIMES.”

A very useful and agreeable volume for boys, full of incident and
life-like sketches. Most boys thirst for greatness: they will all be glad
to read this book, which so well deserves their attention.”

THE “MORNING STAR.”

«Famous Boys’ (Darton and Co.) is the production of an author who
modestly omits to place his name upon its title page. It gives a rapid
sketch of the early career of some of the great men of our otvn time, and
the generation immediately preceding us, and indicates those. leading
points in their characters which led to their successful advancement in
life. The book is well calculated to excite an honourable ambition in the
minds of young readers, and to stimulate them to active habits of bene-
volence and usefulness; whilst by some notable instances it warns them
against allowing the acquisition of wealth and honour to become the all-
absorbing object of life.”

THE “LEADER.”

“A selection of sketches of self-taught and self-made men, who became
famous in after-life, but who were generally struggling in obscurity in
their early days. The object of. the author is commendable in setting up
as examples of what may be done by perseverance, when combined with
ability, such-men as Jerrold, the Stephensons, Kitte, and Livingstone.”
2 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

THE “CRITIC.”

“We see no reason why this book should not be read with great
interest by any boy who meets with it. Of Mr. Horace Greeley we
learn that ‘the sights in London did not impress him very much; the
Epsom races he declined to attend for three reasons—he had much to do
at home; he did not care a button which of thirty colts ran the fastest ;
and he preferred that his delight and that of swindlers, robbers, and
gamblers should not exactly coincide.’ Generally speaking, we admit
that the writer has worthily chosen the subjects for his biographies, and
that he does them justice.”

“MANCHESTER REVIEW.”

“This is a very pleasant and instructive book, ‘dedicated to youths
and young men as a stimulus to earnest living ;’ and the author in his
preface seeks to awaken a right spirit in his readers by telling them that

‘*circumstances and opportunities are not needed to make great men ;
great men make opportunities.’ The incidents are well selected, so as to
give a good biography of the youthful days of seventeen boys who became
‘men of the time.’ The style is simple, but spirited ; well adapted for
young readers, for whom ‘Famous Boys’ will make an admirable gift-
book.”

“ORIENTAL BUDGET.”

. “Anattractive book for boys, and likely to prove a ‘stimulus to earnest
living’ to them.”

“NATIONAL STANDARD.”

“The study of biography is the most attractive and probably the most
useful that can engage the attention of youth; for, as it is certain that,
with the young, example is more efficacious than precept, so, in meditating
upon the actions of eminent individuals, they are taught to appreciate
those worthy of imitation, and to avoid those of a contrary nature. The
object of this admirable little volume is to exhibit to the rising generation
the examples of men who, by their own merit and exertions, emerged
from poverty and obscurity, raised themselves to eminence and dignity
among their compatriots, and ultimately became an honour to their
country. Amongst the worthies whose histories are here placed before
us are the two Stephensons (George and Robert), Lord Brougham, John
Philpot Curran, Hugh Miller, David Livingstone, Samuel Drew, Douglas
Jerrold, &., &c. The sketches are vigorous, graphic, and instructive,
and are evidently the work of a master hand. By the production of this
book Mr. Darton has contributed another valuable addition to those
numerous publications for the benefit and instruction of youth for which
the public are already indebted to him. It is worthy of the study of
boys of all ages, and of every grade in society, as an incentive to honour-
able exertion in whatever station in life they may be called to occupy.”
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 3

“MANCHESTER WEEKLY ADVERTISER.”

“This is a capital book; capital not only as put into the hands of
youth ‘as a stimulus to earnest living,’ but as profoundly interesting to
those ‘children of a larger growth’ who can no longer lay claim to
youthfulness at all, but who either have not time to give to the study of
the larger works which are devoted to the biographies of the individuals,
many of them specimens of the world’s foremost men, whose achieve-
ments furnish the subjects of the volume before us, or to whom it is, on
other grounds, inconvenient or impossible to procure those larger and
more costly works. Of the judgment displayed by the author or com-
piler of this work in the selection of his materials, and of the interest
which must attach to his production, our readers can form their own
opinion when we state that the book contains a memoir of each of the
following persons:— Horace Greeley, James Gordon Bennett, George
Stephenson, Robert Stephenson, Lord Brougham, John Kitto, Hugh
Miller, Samuel Drew, Thomas Cooper, William Jay, John Philpot Curran,
Samuel Crompton, Elihu Burrit, Douglas Jerrold, David Livingstone,
James Morrison, Joseph Sturge, and Alderman Thomas Kelly. There
are some men in this list—James Gordon Bennett, for example—whose
general conduct in life we should be sorry to see imitated by any of the
rising generation; but the author does not recommend anything of the
kind, save in the single particular of the earnest devotion of one’s powers
to the practical business of life, in whatever calling one’s lot may be cast ;
and there can be no doubt that this one sound lesson may be deduced
from the career even of James Gordon Bennett. For the rest, we have
here in one single volume the cream of the biographies of the persons
named, which could not be obtained from the larger works which deal
with them in the separate form, save at a cost of many pounds.”

“WEEKLY DISPATCH.”

““ Among the names found in a tolerably long list of boys who became,
and chiefly by their own exertions, deservedly known as prominent, and,
in a certain sense, great men, and this, considering their unpromising
antecedents, and the many formidable difficulties they had to contend
with, are those of Horace Greeley, the Stephensons, John Kitto, Hugh
Miller, Thomas Cooper, William Jay, Jerrold, Dr. Livingstone, besides
others of larger note. The memoirs are written with simplicity and con-
ciseness, and an amount of matter constituting, by example and precept,
a ‘stimulus to earnest living’ will be found in these pages, which will
delight and interest.our reading boys for many a summer’s noon and
winter’s evening yet to come.” .

“MANCHESTER EXAMINER AND TIMES.”

“There is no greater evidence of the progress we are making, and have
made, than in the class of literature which the volume before us repre-
sents. It is hearty and healthy. It is full of interest and of encourage-
ment, and will, we doubt not, help on many a weak heart, and strengthen

_ it for the work of honourable emulation.”
A : OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

“NEWS OF THE WORLD.”

“These true stories—some of them stranger than fiction—are calculated
to direct and keep in a course of spirited and honourable occupation.
Such books as this do good in a quiet unostentatious way, and are
well worthy of recommendation.and praise. These lives of eminent men,
who were clever and famous as boys, are written in a good and correct
spirit, and will not only interest young readers, but afford agreeable
reading also to children of a larger growth.”

“ CHRONICLE.”

« An unpretending, but a useful little volume. It supplies interesting
sketches of some of the most distinguished men of our times, showing
their indomitable perseverance and industry ; their steady rise to eminence
and usefulness, often from the midst of indigence and difficulty. A more
useful book to put into the hands of the youth of Great Britain we ‘could
hardly name; its subjects are judiciously selected ; it is beautifully illus-’
trated, is written in an inviting style, and its perusal cannot fail to
awaken lofty aspirations, and to brace youthful energies to noble efforts.”

“MONTHLY REGISTER.”

«Famous Boys, and how they became Great Men,’ is a stimulus te
earnest living, and is evidently the work of one who desired to write a
useful as well as an interesting book. It is composed of seventeen biogra-
phical sketches of the boyhood of eminent men, some of them living,
others lately deceased. The sketches are written with modest simplicity,
and are well calculated to give hope to the enterprising boy.

“It is surprising to see what difficulties have beset the path of many of
our most eminent men. George Stephenson came from the coal-pit ;
Hugh Miller, from cutting stones; Samuel Drew, from the shoe-maker’s
bench; David Livingstone, from the. cotton factory; and John Kitto,
from the workhouse. Yet all these men rose to eminence, spite of poverty
and want, spite of the dull and heavy burden which all the lowly bear,
and in spite also of the spurning and persecution which ‘ patient merit
from the unworthy takes’ They all raised themselves to association with
the highest in the land, acquired sufficient wealth to render them compe-
tent and independent, and, above all, acquired an intellectual store which
kings might’envy. It is hardly possible, perhaps, to find a finer instance
of the force of character than in Kitto. Having, at best, only a delicate
constitution, utterly deaf, motherless, and the son of a drunken father ;
shut up in Plymouth workhouse, making shoes for paupers—such was
once the outlook of one whose ‘praise is now in all the churches’ for his
noble contributions to biblical literature.”


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xml record header identifier oai:www.uflib.ufl.edu.ufdc:UF0000311600001datestamp 2009-02-23setSpec [UFDC_OAI_SET]metadata oai_dc:dc xmlns:oai_dc http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc xmlns:dc http:purl.orgdcelements1.1 xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance xsi:schemaLocation http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc.xsd dc:title Clever boys of our time, and how they became famous mendc:creator Johnson, Joseph, b 1822Herbert, R. ( Engraver )Stephenson, J. ( Engraver )Stanesby, Samuel ( Illuminator )Bessent, T. ( Printer of plates )dc:subject Boys -- Biography -- Juvenile literature.Success -- Juvenile literature.Ability -- Juvenile literature.Bldn -- 1864.Literature for Childrendc:description b Statement of Responsibility by the author of "Famous Boys," and "Heroines of our Time."Halkett & Laing, v. 9 gives the date 1861 for this title.Added title page, engraved.Added title page and frontispiece illuminated in colours by Sam. Stanesby and printed by T. Bessent.Illustrations engraved by R. Herbert after J. Stephenson.Publisher's advertisements follow text.Funding Brittle Books ProgramFunding Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).dc:publisher Darton and Co.dc:date c. 1861dc:type Bookdc:format viii, 280, <10> p., <10> leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 18 cm.dc:identifier http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/ufdc/?b=UF00003116&v=00001002232234 (aleph)AAA4055 (notis)ALH2626 (notis)19707555 (oclc)48435570 (oclc)dc:source University of Floridadc:language Englishdc:coverage England -- London.dc:rights All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.




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