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BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY

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A

BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY

OF

EMINENT SCOTSMEN.

ORIGINALLY EDITED BY ROBERT CHAMBERS.

NEW EDITION,

REVISED THROUGHOUT AND CONTINUED

REV. THOMAS THOMSON,

EDITOR OF THE "COMPREHENSIVE HISTORY OF ENGLAND," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY NUMEROUS AUTHENTIC PORTRAITS ON STEEL.

VOLUME II.

LONDON:
BLACKIE AND SON, PATERNOSTER ROW;

AND GLASGOW AND EDINBURGH.

1870.

A

BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY

EMIXEXT SCOTSMEX.

F.

FALCOXER, Hi-GH, M.D. During the eight-
eenth cenrun,-, when ethical and metaphysical specu-
lation was accounted the highest effort of intellect,
the Scottish mind heartily sympathized in the stud v.
It was an outlet to the keen investigating character
which formed one of the national distinctions, and
the writings of Hume and others of his countr}"men
soon effected a revolution in the world of abstract
thought. But in the nineteenth century, when the
tide had entirely changed — when metaph}"sic3 was
exchanged for physics, and the theoretic for the
practical, so that the present age came to be called
the age of utilitarianism — Scotland was not found
wanting. Hence in every department of natural
science we find her children among the foremost; and
not the least of these was Hugh Falconer, the sub-
ject of the present biographical notice. He was bom
at Forres, Mora%-5hire, on the 29th of Februar}-,
180S. Having prosecuted his litenm- and general
education at King's College, Aberdeen, where he
took the degree of A.M., after completing the usual
curriculum, he went to Edinburgh about the year
1826, and studied at its university until he had
finished his medical education, and received the
diplomas of surgeon and M.D. But although he
acquired a competent knowledge of the medicd pro-
fession, it was not to the mysteries of the healing art
that he exclusively, or even chiefly, confined his at-
tention : his enthusiasm was directed to natural
science, while his comprehensive intellect ranged
over its ^s-ide and diversified field — and the lessons of
Professors Jameson and Graham, as well as the so-
ciety of their chief pupils, aided and animated him in
his scientific career. He was also a member of the
Plinian Societv", where he found associates with whom
he maintained a close intimacy that lasted till his death.

Having graduated for the medical profession, Hugh
Falconer commenced his active course as assistant-
surgeon in the East India Company's sen-ice, and on
his arrival in Bengal he was so forttmate as to find a
field already prepared for him. His favourite study
had been botany, and in this his proficiency was so
marked, as to show him a fit successor to the Rox-
burghs and Wallichs, by whom the gardens of the
Honourable East India Company had been superin-
tended. He was therefore placed in charge of them,
first at Seharunpoor, and latterly at Calcutta. His
gratification at the appointment, and modest estimate
of his own claims to such distinction, are thus men-
tioned in one of his letters written ft-om Mussooree,
7000 feet in height among the Himalaya Mountains:

VOL. II.

"Botany is now a sort of profession with me. I am
superintendent of a botanic garden in India, I had
the luck to get it before I was a year in the country,
and perhaps long before I could have expected any-
thing of the kind; but as there are few in the medic^
senice in India who trouble themselves with botany,
I got the charge in lack of a fitter man."

Of his superior fitness for such a charge, even
though able competitors had been at hand, it was
soon e\adent that there could be little question.
During a tenure of office that lasted twent}' years,
his researches extended fi-om Calcutta to Cashmere
in a northerly and westerly, and from Calcutta to
Burmah in a south-easterly direction, while his in-
quiries were directed to every branch by which the
resources of India could be developed, and the in-
terests of natural science promoted. In Indian
botany he may be pronounced the creator of the teas
of Assam, the first attempt to transfer the Chinese
plant to other regions, by which the world at a
future day may be made independent of its exclusive
supplies of tea fi-om China. It was he also who
developed the resources of the great teak forests of
Martaban, where the sound of the woodman's axe
had never been heard; and who first suggested the
naturalization of the Jesuit's bark of Peru in the
Himalaya Mountains and the Xeilgherr)- Hills. But
independently of these strictly professional duties,
were Falconers discoveries in palaeontolog)- while in
India. In the Sewalik Mountains, the lowest range
of the Himalayas, he classified, described, and brought
to England the largest collection of fossils, the organic
beings of a former state of the world, that any in-
di\-idual had ever hitherto collected. Thus briefly
we are compelled to comprise the narrative of a
twenty years' scientific life in India — a life filled with
active adventure, scientific discover)-, and successfid
experiment, by which the boundaries of knowledge
were enlarged^ and the welfare of society promoted.
And, with the exception of the usual furlough to
Europe, these years had been passed, and these toils
undergone, in the diversified climates and under the
burning sun of the East. Ha^-ing thus so ably dis-
charged his task. Dr. Falconer retired from the
service, and returned to England; but although his
constitution was considerably shattered, his mental
acti^•ity was as great and his love of scientific re-
search as strong as ever. As soon, therefore, as his
health was partially recruited, he resumed those
palseontological inquiries among the fields of Europe,
which he had so successfully prosecuted in Indix

S6

WILLIAM FALCONER.

And for this also he was admirahly qualified, as, in-
dependently of his enthusiasm in the pursuit, and
his intellectual adaptation for such a task as that of
collecting the fragments of a past existence, and out
of these educing the forms and characters of the
creatures to which they had belonged — a work in
which he showed himself equal to the most distin-
guished paUvontologists of the day, he possessed an
amount of experience derived from the earliest eastern
fields of prehistoric life to which they could not lay
claim. In the course of his investigations he visited
t.he drift of Amiens, the caverns of southern France,
and those of Sicily. He also, in the autumn of 1864,
made a voyage to Gibraltar in company with Pro-
fessor Busk, the eminent naturalist and anatomist,
for the purjjose of exploring its caves, in which not
only the fossilized bones of extinct animals were
discovered, such as mastodons, cave-lions, cave-bears,
and elephants, but those of man himself This jour-
ney, however, terminated his life as well as his
scientific inquiries. On returning to England through
Spain, exposure to the weather tried his constitution
so severely that he was unable to rally from its effects,
and he died in Park Crescent, London, on the 31st
of January, 1S65, being only fifty-five years old.
Such was Dr. Hugh Falconer, a man whose many-
sided mind this brief sketch can but imperfectly
delineate. In every department of natural science,
and the departments of knowledge connected with
them, he was completely versed. A perfect master
of geology, botany, and zoology, he was also an ex-
cellent ethnologist and archaeologist, while in litera-
ture he was not only well acquainted with the clas-
sical but oriental languages. Having died a bachelor,
he left no children to succeed him, and it was un-
fortunate that his busy life allowed him no leisure
to construct such a work as might have shown the
amount of his acquirements, and been a lasting
monument to his fame. His two principal publica-
tions, of which, however, the labour was shared with
others, were — i. '^ Fauna Antiqita Sivalonis, being
the Fossil Zoology of the Sewalik Hills, in the North
of India" (in conjunction with T. Cautley), Lond.
fol. 1846-49; and, 2. A Descriptive Catalogue of the
Fossil Ketnai Its of Vcrtebrata in the Museum of Bengal
(in conjunction with H. Walker). Calcutta, 8vo,
1859. Besides these, he contributed several papers
to the chief scientific societies, especially the Geolo-
gical and Philosophical, which are published in their
Transactions.

FALCONER, William, author of The Ship-
wreck, a poem, was bom in Edinburgh about the
year 1730. His father was a barber and wig-maker
in a well-known street called the Netheibow, where
he ultimately became insolvent. A brother and
sister of the tuneful Falconer — the only individuals
who stood in that relation to him — were born deaf
and dumb; and the latter, on account of her infirmi-
ties, was a constant inmate of the Royal Infirmary of
Edinburgh, some time after the beginning of the
present century. The father of the poet was a
cousin-german of the Rev. Mr. Robertson, minister
of the parish of Borthwick; so that this humble bard
was a very near relation of the author of the Ilistorv
of Scotland, and also of Lord Brougham and Vaux.
Old Falconer, being reduced to insolvency, was
enabled by his friends to open a grocer's shop; but
being deprived of his wife, who was a prudent and
active woman, his affairs once more became deranged,
and he terminated his life in extreme indigence.

The education of young Falconer was of that
humble kind which might have been expected from
his father's circumstances. A teacher of the name of

Webster gave him instructions in reading, writing,
and arithmetic. He used to say that this was the
whole amount of his school education. It appears
that he possessed, even in early youth, an ardour of
genius, and a zeal in the acquisition of knowledge,
which in a great measure supplied his deficiencies.
In his poem of the Ship-wreck he evidently alludes to
his own attainments in the following lines : —

"On him fair science dawned in happier hour,
Awakening into bloom young fancy's flower;
But soon adversity, with freezing blast,
I'he blossom withered and the dawn o'ercast;
Forlorn of heart, and, by severe decree.
Condemned, reluctant, to the faithless sea;
With long farewell, he left the laurel grove.
Where science and the tuneful sLsters rove."

W'hen very young he was torn from his self-pursued
studies, and entered as an apprentice on hoard a
merchant vessel belonging to Leith. He afterwards
became servant to Mr. Campbell, the author of Zt'.r/-
phanes, who was purser of the ship to which he
belonged, and who, finding in him an aptitude for
knowledge, kindly undertook to give him some in-
structions in person. He subsequently became
second mate in the Britannia, a vessel in the Levant
trade, which, on her passage from Alexandria to
Venice, was shipwrecked off Cape Colonna, on the
coast of Greece. Only three of the crew were saved,
and Falconer was of the number. The event fur-
nished him with the material of a poem, by which
it is probable his name will be for ever remembered.

The poet was at this time about eighteen years of
age. In 1751, when two or three years older, he is
found residing in his native city, where he published
his first known work, a poem, Saered to the Me?nory
of His Royal Highness Frederick Prince of I Vales.
He is said to have followed up this effort by several
minor pieces which he transmitted to the Gen-
tle/nan's Jl/agazine. !Mr. Clarke, the editor of a
respectable edition of his poems, points out The
Chaplain's Petition to the Lietitenants in the Ward-
room, the Description of a Ninety-gun Ship, and
some lines On the ztncoiiunon Scarcity of Poetry, as
among these fugitive productions. ^Ir. Clarke has
likewise presented his readers with a whimsical little
poem, descriptive of the abode and sentiments of a
midshipman, which was one of the poet's early pro-
ductions, and offers some reasons for supposing that
he was the author of the popular song. Cease, nide
Boreas.

Little is known of Falconer during this period of
his life except that he must have been making con-
siderable additions to his stock of knowledge and
ideas. His poem 7'he Shipwj-eck was published in
1762, being dedicated to Edward, Duke of York,
brother of George III. This composition displays a
degree of polish and an array of classical allusions
which could only have been acquired by extensive
reading. It was at once placed in the first rank of
descriptive poetry, where it has ever since continued.
"The distant ocean," says an eminent critic, "and
its grand phenomena have employed the pens of the
most eminent poets, but they have generally pro-
duced an effect by indefinite outlines and imaginary
incidents. In Falconer we have the painting of a
great artist, taken on the spot, with such minute
fidelity, as well as picturesque effect, that we are
chained to tlie scene with all the feelings of actual
terror. In the use of imagery Falconer displays
original powers. His sunset, midnight, morning,
&c., are not such as have descended from poet to
poet. He beheld these objects under circumstances
in which it is the lot of few to be placed. His
images, therefore, cannot be transferred or borrowed;
they have an appropriation which must not be dis-

WILLIAM FALCONER JOHN FARQUIIAR.

turbed, nor can we trace them to any source but that
of genuine poetry." Another writer remarks, '■'^ The
Shipzureck is didactic as well as descriptive, and may
be recommended to a young sailor, not only to excite
his enthusiasm, but improve his knowledge of the art.
It is of inestimable value to this countr)-, since it
contains within itself the rudiments of navigation: if
not sufficient to form a complete seaman, it may cer-
tainly be considered as the grammar of his profes-
sional science. I have heard many experienced
officers declare that the rules and maxims delivered
in this poem for the conduct of a ship in the most
perilous emergency form the best, indeed the only
opinions which a skilful mariner should adopt."
Against such a poem it forms no proper objection
that much of the language, being technical, is only
perfectly understood by a class.

By his dedication the poet gained the notice and
patronage of the Duke of York, who, it will be recol-
lected, was himself a seaman. Almost immediately
after the poem was published his royal highness in-
duced Falconer to leave the merchant service, and
procured him the rank of a midshipman in Sir Ed-
ward Hawke's ship, the Royal George. In gratitude,
Falconer wrote an Ode on the Duke of York^s Second
Departure from England as Rear-admiral, which was
published, but displays a merit more commensurate
with the unimportance of the subject than the genius
of the author. It is said that Falconer composed
this poem "during an occasional absence from his
messmates, when he retired into a small space formed
between the cable tiers and the ship's side."

In 1763, the war being brought to a close,
Falconer's ship was paid off, — long before he had
completed that period of service which could have
entitled him to promotion. He then exchanged the
military for the civil department of the naval ser-
vice, and became purser of the Glory frigate of 32
guns. Either in the interval between the two ser-
vices, or before his appointment as a midshipman,
he paid a visit to Scotland, and spent some time in
the manse of Gladsmuir with Dr. Robertson, the his-
torian, who, we are told, was proud to acknowledge
the relationship that existed between him and this
self-instructed and ingenious man.

Soon after this period Falconer married a Miss
Hicks, daughter of the surgeon of Sheemess Yard.
She has been described as "a woman of cultivated
mind, elegant in her person, and sensible and agreeable
in conversation."^ It is said that the match was
entered into against the will of her parents, who, look-
ing only to the external circumstances of the poet,
thought her thrown away upon a poor Scottish ad-
venturer. Notwithstanding this painful circumstance,
and there is reason to fear real poverty besides, the
pair lived happily. Falconer endeavoured to sup-
port himself by literature. He compiled a Universal
Marine Diciio>tary, which, from its usefulness as a
book of reference, soon became generally used in the
navy. Like most other literary Scotsmen of that
period, he was a zealous partisan of the Bute ad-
ministration, and endeavoured to defend it against
the attacks of its jealous and illiberal enemies. For
this purpose he published a satire, called The Dema-
gogue, which was more particularly aimed at Lord
Chatham, Wilkes, and Churchill. We have not
learned that it was attended with any particular
effect. Falconer at this time lived in a manner at
once economical, and highly appropriate to his
literary character. "When the Glory was laid
in ordinary at Chatham, Commissioner Hanway,
brother to the benevolent Jonas Hanway, became

* Letter by Joseph Moser, European Magazine, 1803, p. 424.

delighted with the genius of its purser. The cap-
tain's cabin was ordered to be fitted up with a stove,
and with every addition of comfort that could be
procured, in order that Falconer might thus be
enabled to enjoy his favourite propensity, without
either molestation or expense" (Clarke's Life).

In 1769 the poet had removed to London, and
resided for some time in the former buildings of
Somerset House. From this place he dated the last
edition of the Shipvjrcck published in his own life-
time. That P'alconer must have possessed the per-
sonal qualities of a man of the world, rather than
those of an abstracted student or child of the muses,
seems to be proved by Mr. Murray, the bookseller,
having proposed to take him into partnership. He
is supposed to have been only prevented from acced-
ing to this proposal by receiving an appointment to
the pursership of the Aurora frigate, which was
ordered to carry out to India Messrs. Vansittart,
Scrofton, and Forde, as supervisors of the affairs
of the Company. He was also promised the office
of private secretary to those gentlemen, a situation
from which his friends conceived hopes that he might
eventually obtain lasting advantages. It had been
otherwise ordered. The Au>-ora sailed from Eng-
land on the 30th of September, 1769, and, after
touching at the Cape, was lost during the remainder
of the passage, in a manner that left no trace by
which the cause of the calamity could be discovered.
It was conjectured that the vessel took fire at sea;
but the more probable supposition is that she foun-
dered in the Mosambique Channel. The widow of
Falconer (who eventually died at Bath) resided for
some years afterwards in his apartments at Somerset
House, partly supported by Mr. Miller, the book-
seller, who, in consideration of the rapid sale of the
Marine Dictionary, generously bestowed upon her
sums not stipulated for in his contract with the author.
Mr. Moser, whom we have already quoted, mentions
that he once met her walking in the garden, near
her lodging, and, without knowing who she was,
happened, in conversation, to express his admiration
of the Shipiureck. She was instantly in tears. "She
presented me," says Mr. M., "with a copy of the
Shipivreck, and seemed much affected by my com-
miseration of the misfortunes of a man whose work
appears in its catastrophe prophetic." They had
never had any children.

"In person," says Mr. Clarke, "Falconer was
about five feet seven inches in height; of a thin light
make, with a dark weather-beaten complexion, and
rather what is termed hard-featured, being consider-
ably marked with the small-pox; his hair was of a
brownish hue. In point of address, his manner was
blunt, awkward, and forbidding; but he spoke with
great fluency; and his simple yet impressive diction
was couched in words which reminded his hearers
of the terseness of Swift. Though he possessed a
warm and friendly disposition, he was fond of con-
troversy, and inclined to satire. His observation
was keen and rapid; his criticisms on any inaccuracy
of language or expression were frequently severe;
yet this severity was always intended to create mirth,
and not by any means to show his own superiority,
or to give the smallest offence. In his natural tem-
per he was cheerful, and frequently used to amuse
his messmates by composing acrostics on their favour-
ites, in which he particularly excelled. As a pro-
fessional man, he was a thorough seaman; and, like
most of that profession, was kind, generous, and
benevolent. "

FARQUHAR, John. This remarkable char-
acter, who went to India a penniless youth and re-

JOHN FARQUHAR.

turned a millionaire, was the son of poor parents,
and born in Crimond, Aberdeenshire, in 175 1. In
early life he went to India as a cadet in the iJombay
establishment, and in the voyage was a chum of the
late General Kerr. A dangerous wound in the hip,
which affected his health and occasioned lameness,
disqualified him for the military service, and by the
advice of his friends he removed to Bengal, where
he became a free merchant. Either his original
tendencies, or the confinement occasioned by his
wound, maile him turn his mind to close study,
in which chemistry and its practical application was
the favourite pursuit. It was upon this that the
foundation of his immense fortune was laid. The
manufacturing of gunpowder in the interior at Pultah
being defective, Nlr. Far<iuhar was selected by Lord
Cornwallis, the governor-general of India, to aid in
rectifying it, and this he did so effectually as to secure
the confidence of his superiors, and gradually to ob-
tain the management of the concern, until at last he
became the sole contractor with the government.
Thus he rapidly rose to wealth and distinction, and
won the particular favour and confidence of Warren
Hastings; and that this rise was merited he showed
by his close application, extraordinary mental vigour,
and activity. He also evinced, by his habiis of
penuriousness, that he could keep a good hold of
the wealth that flowed in so abundantly upon him.
After years of labour he returned from India with
a fortune estimated at half-a-million, the greater part
of which was profitably invested by Mr. Hoare, his
banker, in the funds.

On landing at Gravesend on his return to England,
such was the appearance of this Indian Croesus, that
no pickpocket however hungry would have thought
him worth a search. His clothes were threadbare
and could scarcely hang together, while his whole
appearance was tlial of a pauper on his way to the
workhouse. He took the outside of the coach to
London to save expense, and his first visit was to
his banker; but on asking to see Mr. Hoare, the
clerks, who saw him covered with dust and dirt,
treated him with hauteur, and obliged him to wait
as a petitioner in the cash office. On Mr. Hoare
passing through it, he exchanged a few words with
the supposed mendicant, and was thunderstruck to
find that this was no other than his great Indian
customer. Farquhar drew only /^2^ and took his
leave. He then went to the house of a relation, a
baronet, and there took up his residence; but his
poverty-stricken appearance was an eyesore and
annoyanceto thewholeestablishment. At last, agreat
Christmas entertainment was to be given in the man-
sion, in c(jnsequence of which his relative, a week pre-
vious, hinted the |)r(jpriely of improving his costume,
and rec(miniended a I5ond Street tailor who would
drape him in the newest and most approved fashion.
Indignant at this aspersion of his favourite costume,
and the audacity of such interference, Mr. Farquhar
immediately packed uj) his trunk, ordered the servant
to call a coach, and took his deiJarture. He then
settled himself in Upper Baker Street, where his
house was soon characterized by its forlorn a|)pear-
ancc; the windows were uncleaned, the approach
dirty and neglected, while the only menial of whom
the establishment could boast was an old woman.
His own favourite room was a sanctuary which she
was not allowed to enter, or a brush or broom to
l)rofane; the floor was littered with books and papers,
where they were thrown and allowed to lie, when
their service was over; and the most active part of
its furniture was an old pan or pipkin, in which he
usually cooked his Brahminical meal of rice. His
neighbours were alarmed at this appearance of ex-

treme destitution, and in several cases some of them
offered him alms, supposing that he was a reduced
gentleman starving in poverty. His relations, how-
ever, were too wise to neglect such a rich kinsman,
let his dress and eccentricities be as annoying as they
might, and he was often invited to their tables. But
while he thus saved himself the expense of the day's
provender, he was not the less careful for the morrow,
and rolls or pieces of bread found their way into his
pocket to furnish the next day's breakfast or dinner.
His hosts were too wise to notice such abstractions,
and in the end were no losers by their short-sighted-
ness.

While Farquhar was thus saving in the common
necessaries of life, his mountain of money was not
allowed to lie idle. He became a partner in the
great agency house in the city having for its title
"Basset, Farquhar, & Co.," and purchased the late
Mr. Whitebread's share in the brewery. With part
of his wealth he purchased estates, but the bulk of
it was invested in stock, and allowed to increase on
the principle of compound interest. Every half
year he drew his dividends, his mercantile profits,
and his rents, and purchased in the funds, so that
his capital with every year was steadily and rapidly
increasing, liut the most wonderful of his mercan-
tile transactions was in the case of that gorgeous
Aladdin palace, Fonthill Abbey. In 1822 that
splendid edifice with all its rich treasures was an-
nounced for sale, and while the public mind antici-
pated the whole wealth and aristocracy of Britain
as bidders at the auction, the land was amazed
to learn that Mr. Farquhar — that most frugal man
and impersonation of poverty — had purchased the
whole by private bargain for ;i^330,ooo. Occasion-
ally also he resided afterwards in the abbey, like a
living sermon upon the vanity of its grandeur, until
the fall of its tower in December, 1825. The re-
maining wing of the older mansion he converted
into a woollen manufactory.

In this strange manner Mr. Farquhar held onward
in his career until its course was terminated, aston-
ishing the world by his vast wealth, but still more by
his penurious habits. Whatever he touched seemed
to turn into gold; but this, though he was able, he
was unwilling to enjoy, so that his Midas-like famine
was his own deliberate choice. But he was no ordi-
nary miser; and while hoarding scraps of victuals and
saving pence and farthings, he could freely part with
hundreds of pounds in acts of charity and benevo-
lence. Although slovenly in dress and disagreeable
in the usages of the table, he could yet be courteous
and gentlemanly in his manners and conversation.
He was an accomplished scholar and well versed in
the classics, and although disinclined to correspon-
dence, when he jirevailed upon himself to write, his
style was terse, elegant, and c(urect. In mathe-
matical, chemical, and mechanical science he also
showed remarkable proficiency, while his conversa-
tion was rich, animated, and varied. But the pos-
session of these endowments only increased the
general odium occasioned byhis insane loveof money,
as compared with his capability for higher and better
pursuits. What were his religious opinions even the
most intimate of his friends could not ascertain, but
it was suspected, from his mode of living, and his
admiration of the jiure and abstinent precepts of
Brahminisni, that he was at least a half-convert to
the Hindoo creed. It was also said that he offered
to devote ^100, cxx) in founding a college in Aberdeen
on the most enlarged plan of education, from which,
however, the subject of religion was to be excluded,
but which the legislature refused to sanction, so that
the plan was abandoned.

ADAM FERGUSON.

After having thus continued to be a wonder to
society, John Farquhar was suddenly withdrawn
from its gaze. On the 5th of July, 1S26, he had
taken an airing in his carriage, and returned to his
house in the New Road, opposite the Regent's Park,
at seven in the evening, and retired to rest between
the hours of ten and eleven. At eight in the follow-
ing morning his servant, according to custom, took
up breakfast to his master in his bedroom, but found
him a corpse. Suddenly and at midnight the rich
man's soul had been required of him, and he had
apparently died instantaneously and without a strug-
gle. As Mr. Farquhar died intestate, his fortune,
supposed to amount to a million and a half, was
divided among seven nephews and nieces.

FERGUSOISr, Dr. Adam, was the son of the
Rev. Adam Ferguson, parish minister of Logic Rait,
in Perthshire, descended of the respectable family of
Dunfallandy; his mother was from the county of
Aberdeen. He was born in the year 1724, in the
manse of his father's parish, and was the youngest
of a numerous family. He received the rudiments
of instruction at the parish school; but his father,
who had devoted much of his time to the tuition of
his son, became sd fully convinced of the superior
abilities of the boy, that he determined to spare no
expense in the completion of his education. He
was accordingly sent to Perth and placed under the
care of Mr. Martin, who enjoyed great celebrity as
a teacher. At this seminary Ferguson highly dis-
tinguished himself, as well in the classical branches
of education as in the composition of essays; an ex-
ercise which his master was in the habit of prescrib-
ing to his pupils. His theses were not only praised
at the time of their being delivered, but were long
preserved and shown with pride by Mr. Martin, as
the production of a youthful scholar. In October,
1739, Ferguson was, at the age of fifteen, removed
to the university of St. Andrews, where he was par-
ticularly recommended to the notice of Mr. TuUi-
delph, who had been lately promoted to the office
of principal of one of the colleges. At St. Andrews
there is an annual exhibition for four bursaries, when
the successful competitors in writing and translating
Latin obtain gratuitous board at the college table
during four years. Ferguson stood first among the
competitors of the undergraduate course for the year
he entered the college. At that period the Greek
language was seldom taught in the grammar-schools
in Scotland; and although young Ferguson had thus
honourably distinguished himself by his knowledge
of Latin, he seems to have been unacquainted with
Greek. By his assiduity, however, he amply re-
gained his lost time; for so ardently did he apply
himself to the study of that language, that, before
the close of the session, he was able to construe
Homer; nor did his ardour cease with his attendance
at college, for during the vacation he tasked him-
self to prepare one hundred lines of the Iliad every
day, and facility increasing as he advanced in know-
ledge, he was enabled to enlarge his task, so that
by the commencement of the succeeding session, or
term, he had gone through the whole poem. This
laborious course of study enabled him to devote the
succeeding years of his attendance at college to the
attainment of a knowledge of mathematics, logic,
metaphysics, and ethics.

From St. Andrews, on the close of his elementary
studies, Mr. Ferguson removed to Edinburgh to
mix with, and form a distinguished member of that
galaxy of great men which adorned the northern
metropolis about the middle of the iSth century.
Nor was it long before his acquaintance among those

who were thus to shed a lustre over Scotland com-
menced, for soon after his arrival in Edinburgh he
became a member of a philosophical society, which
comprehended Dr. Robertson, Dr. Blair, Mr. John
Home the author of Douglas, and Mr. Alexander
Carlyle. A society composed of young men of
abilities so eminent, it may easily be believed, was
an institution peculiarly well adapted to promote in-
tellectual improvement and the acquisition of know-
ledge. This society afterwards merged in the Specu-
lative Society, which has been the favourite resort
of most of the young men of talent who have been
educated in Edinburgh during the last hundred years.

"In his private studies" (we are informed by one
of his most intimate friends) Mr. Ferguson, while
in Edinburgh, devoted his chief attention "to natural,
moral, and political philosophy. His strong and
inquiring unprejudiced mind, versed in Grecian and
Roman literature, rendered him a zealous friend of
rational and well-regulated liberty. He was a con-
stitutional Whig, equally removed from Republican
licentiousness and Tory bigotry. Aware that all
political establishments ought to be for the good of
the whole people, he wished the means to vary in
different cases, according to the diversity of char-
acter and circumstances; and was convinced, with
Aristotle, that the perfection or defect of the institu-
tions of one country does not necessarily imply either
perfection or defect of the similar institutions of
another; and that restraint is necessary, in the in-
verse proportion of general knowledge and virtue.
These were the sentiments he cherished in his youth;
these the sentiments he cherished in his old age."

Mr. Ferguson was intended for the church, and
had not pursued the study of divinity beyond two
years when, in 1744, Mr. Murray, brother to Lord
Elibank, offered him the situation of deputy chap-
lain, under himself, in the 42d regiment. In order,
however, to obtain a license as a preacher in the
Church of Scotland, it was necessary at that time to
have studied divinity for six years, and although the
fact of Ferguson having some slight knowledge of
the Gaelic language might have entitled him to have
two of these years discounted, still no presbytery was
authorized to have granted him his license. He was
therefore obliged to apply to the General Assembly
of the Church of Scotland, when, in consideration of
the high testimonials which he produced from several
professors, a dispensation was granted in his tavour,
and having passed his trials, he obtained his license
as a preacher; immediately after which he joined
his regiment, then in active service in Flanders. In
a short time he had the good fortune to be promoted
to the rank of principal chaplain.

Mr. Gibbon has declared that the manoeuvres of a
battalion of militia, of which he was colonel, had
enabled him to comprehend and describe the evolu-
tions of the Roman legion; and no doubt Mr. P'er-
guson owed his knowledge of military affairs, by
which he was enabled to give such distinctness and
liveliness to his descriptions of wars and battles, to
the experience which he acquired while with his
regiment on the Continent. Nor did his service
prove less beneficial to him by throwing open a wide
and instructive field of observation of the human
character, and imparting a practical knowledge of
the mainspring of political events.

On the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle Mr. Ferguson
obtained leave of absence, when he visited his native
country. At home he spent his time partly in Perth-
shire, wandering about in comparative idleness, en-
joying the beautiful scenery which surrounded his
father's manse, and partly in the capital, where he
renewed his acquaintance with the friends of his

ADAM FERGUSON.

youth. About this period he solicited the Duke of
Athol for the living of Caputh, a beautiful and re-
tired parish near Dunkcld, in Perthshire; he was,
however, unsuccessful in his application, and it was
owing perhaps to this disappointment that he did
not a^k the living of Logic Kait, on the death of
his father, which took place shortly after. Having
rejoined his regiment, he seems thenceforward to
have abandoned all intention of undertaking a par-
ochial charge. Indeed his talents did not peculiarly
fit him for the office of a preacher; for although he
had acquired a great facility in writing, his sennons
were rather moral essays than eloquent discourses.
This, in a great measure, disqualified him for be-
coming a favourite with a Presbyterian congregation,
in which so much always depends on the preacher's
capacity to excite and sustain a spirit of devotion
among his hearers, by the fidelity, earnestness, and
energy of his exhortations, and the fervour of his
prayers. Although thus unfitted by the nature of
his genius to shine as a preacher, Mr. Ferguson's
great abilities, his polished manners, and the benevo-
lence of his disposition, peculiarly fitted him for
taking a prominent part in literature and in private
society.

In the year 1757 Mr. Ferguson resigned the chap-
laincy of the 42d regiment, after which he was em-
ployed for upwards of two years as private tutor in
the family of the Earl of Bute; and in the year 1759
he was chosen professor of natural philosophy in the
university of Edinburgh ; which chair he retained
until the year 1764, when he obtained the professor-
ship of moral philosophy — a chair much better suited
to his genius, and to the course of study which he
had pursued.

In 1766 he published his £ssays on Civil Society.
The object of this work is — according to the favourite
mode of the literary men with whom Ferguson
associated — to trace man through the several steps
in his progress from barbarism to civilization. This,
■which was his first publication, contributed not a
little to raise Mr. Ferguson in public estimation,
and the university of Edinburgh hastened to confer
on him the honorary degree of LL.D. In the same
year he revisited the scenes of his youth, and delighted
the old parishioners of his father by recollecting them
individually, while they were no less proud that their
parish had produced a man who was held in such
estimation in the world. During this year also he
was married to Miss Burnet, from Aberdeenshire,
the amiable niece of the distinguished Professor
Black, of Edinburgh. In order to render his lectures
more useful to his pupils, Dr. Ferguson about this
time published his Institutes or Synopsis of his Lec-
tures.

Dr. Ferguson continued to enjoy the literary so-
ciety of Edinburgh, interrupted only by the recrea-
tion of cultivating a small farm in the neighbourhood
of the city, until the year 1773; when he was in-
duced by the liberal offers of Lord Chesterfield,
nephew to the celebrated earl, to accompany him
in his travels. After a tour through most of the
countries of Europe, Dr. Ferguson returned in 1775
to the duties of his chair, whicii, during his absence,
had been ably performed by the well-known Dugald
Stewart. This relief from his academical duties
proved not only highly advantageous to Dr. Fer-
guson in a pecuniary point of view, but contributed
considerably to his improvement. His lectures on
his return were not only numerously attended by the
usual routine of students, but by men of the first rank
and talents in the country. We have the testimony
of one who, although young at the time, seems to
have been well able to appreciate his talents, as to

Dr. Ferguson's manner as a lecturer: — "The doctor's
mode of communicating knowledge was firm, manly,
and impressive, but mild and elegant ; he was mild, .
but justly severe in his rebukes to the inattentive and I
negligent. One day that he was engaged in that part
of his course that treated of the practical application
of the moral qualities which he had before described,
and was speaking of the folly of idleness and inatten-
tion to the business in hand, some thoughtless young
men were whispering and trifling in the gallery.
'Gentlemen,' said he, 'please to attend; this subject
peculiarly concerns you.'" In the year 1776 Dr.
Ferguson answered Dr. Price's production on civil
and religious liberty. The ground on which he
differed with Dr. Price was on the applicability of
his doctrine to society and to imperfect man.

We have an early notice of Dr. Ferguson's being
engaged in the composition of his J/istory of the
Roman Republic in the following valuable letter,
addressed by him to Edward Gibbon, dated Edin- -m
burgh, 1 8th April, 1776: — "Dear sir, I should make %
some apology for not writing you sooner an answer
to your obliging letter; but if you should honour me
frequently with such requests, you will find that,
with very good intentions, I am a very dilatory and
irregular correspondent. I am 5orry to tell you
that our respectable friend Mr. Hume is still declin-
ing in his health; he is greatly emaciated, and loses
strength. He talks familiarly of his near prospect
of dying. His mother, it seems, died under the
same symptoms; and it appears so little necessary,
or proper, to flatter him, that no one attempts it. I
never observed his understanding more clear, or his
humour more pleasant or lively. He has a great
aversion to leaving the tranquillity of his own house
to go in search of health among inns and hostlers.
And his friends here gave way to him for some time;
but now think it necessary that he should make an
effort to try what change of place and air, or any- J
thing else Sir John Pringle may advise, can do for I
him. I left him this morning in the mind to comply
in this article, and I hope that he will be prevailed
on to set out in a few days. He is just now sixty-
five.

"I am very glad that the pleasure you give us
recoils a little on yourself through our feeble testi-
mony. I have, as you suppose, been employed, at
any intervals of leisure or rest I have had for some
years, in taking notes, or collecting materials for a
history of the destruction that broke down the Roman
republic, and ended in the establishment of Augustus
and his immediate successors. The compliment you
are pleased to pay, I cannot accept of even to my
subject. Your subject now appears with advantages
it was not supposed to have had, and I suspect that
the magnificence of the mouldering ruin will appear
more striking than the same building when the
view is perplexed with scaffolding, workmen, and
disorderly lodgers, and the ear is stunned with the
noise of destructions and repairs, and the alarms of
fire. The night which you begin to describe is
solemn, and there are gleams of light superior to
what is to be found in any other time. I comfort
myself that, as my trade is the study of human nature,
I could not fix on a more interesting corner of it
than the end of the Roman republic. Whether my
compilations should ever deserve the attention of
any one besides myself, must remain to be deter-
mined after they are farther advanced. I take
the liberty to trouble you with the inclosed for Mr.
.Smith (Dr. Adam Smith), w^hose uncertain stay
in London makes me at a loss how to direct for
him. You have both such reason to be pleased
with the world just now, that I hope you are pleased

ADAM FERGUSON.

with each other. I am, with the greatest respect,
dear sir, your most obedient and humljle servant,
Adam Fercjuson." This letter is not only valuable
from its intrinsic worth and the reference it has to
the composition of The History of the Roman Re-
public, but from its presenting, connected by one link,
four of the greatest names in British literature. Mr.
Ferguson, however, was interrupted in the prosecu-
tion of his historical labours, having been, through
the inlluence of his friend Mr. Dundas, afterwards
Lord Melville, appointed secretary to the commis-
sioners sent out to America in the year 1778, to
negotiate an arrangement with our revolted colonies
in that continent. The following historical detail
will show the success of this mission: —

"In the beginning of June, 1778, the new com-
missioners arrived at Philadelphia, more than a month
after the ratification of the treaty with France had
been formally exchanged. The reception they met
with was such as men the most opposite in their
politics had foreseen and foretold. Dr. Ferguson,
secretary to the commission, was refused a passport
to the congress, and they were compelled to forward
their papers by the common means.

"The commissioners, at the very outset, made
concessions far greater than the Americans, in their
several petitions to the king, had requested or de-
sired—greater, indeed, than the powers conferred
upon them by the act seemed to authorize. Amongst
the most remarkable of these was the engagement
to agree that no military force should be kept up in
the different states of America without the consent
of the general congress of the several assemblies —
to concur in measures calculated to discharge the
debts of America, and to raise the credit and value
of the paper circulation — to admit of representatives
from the several states, who should have a seat and
voice in the parliament of Great Britain — to establish
a freedom of legislation and internal government,
comprehending every privilege short of a total sepa-
ration of interest, or consistent with that union of
force in which the safety of the common religion and
liberty depends.

"These papers, when laid before the congress,
were read with astonishment and regret, but from
the declaration of independen'ce, they had neither
the will nor the power to recede. An answer,
therefore, brief but conclusive, was returned by the
president, Henry Laurens, declaring, 'that nothing
but an earnest desire to spare the farther effusion of
human blood could have induced them to read a
paper containing expressions so disrespectful to his
most Christian majesty, their ally, or to consider of
propositions so derogatory to the honour of an inde-
pendent nation. The commission under which they
act supposes the people of America to be still sub-
ject to the crown of Great Britain, which is an idea
utterly inadmissible.' The president added, 'that
he was directed to inform their excellencies of the
inclination of the congress to peace, notwithstanding
the unjust claims from which this war originated,
and the savage manner in which it had been con-
ducted. They will, therefore, be ready to enter upon
the consideration of a treaty of peace and commerce,
not inconsistent with treaties already subsisting,
when the king of Great Britain shall demonstrate a
sincere disposition for that purpose; and the only
solid proof of this disposition will be an explicit
acknowledgment of the independence of the United
States, or the withdrawing his fleets and armies.'"
Conduct so haughty on the part of the Americans
necessarily put a stop to all farther negotiation, and
the commissioners having, in a valedictory mani-
festo, appealed to the people, returned home.

On his return to Scotland Dr. Fergiison resumed
the charge of his class and continued the preparation
of the Roman History. That work made its appear-
ance in the year 1783; and two years afterwards, he
resigned the chair of moral philosophy in favour of
Mr. Dugald Stewart; while he was himself permitted
to retire on the salary of the mathematical class
which Mr. Stewart had held. Dr. Ferguson then
took up his residence at Manor, in the county of
Peebles, where he passed his time in literary ease
and in farming; an occupation for which he had a
peculiar taste, but which he ultimately found so un-
profitable, that he was glad to relinquish it. He
seems also to have devoted his attention to the cor-
rection of his lectures, which he published in 1793.

While exempt from all cares, and in the enjoyment
of good health and of a competent fortune. Dr.
Ferguson, in his old age, conceived the extraordinary
project of visiting Rome. He accordingly repaired
once more to the Continent, visiting the cities of
Berlin and Vienna, where he was received with
great attention. His progress southward was, how-
ever, stopped by the convulsions associated with the
French revolution. To this great political pheno-
menon Dr. Ferguson's attention had been earnestly
directed, and it is curious to know, that he had
drawn up (although he did not publish it) a memorial
pointing out the dangers to which the liberties of
Europe were exposed, and proposing a congress with
objects similar to those which occupied the congress
of Vienna in 1814.

On his return home Dr. Ferguson retired for the
remainder of his life to St. Andrews, a place endeared
to him by early habits and admirably fitted for the
retreat of a literary man in easy circumstances.
There, in addition to the professors of that ancient
university, he enjoyed the society of the patriotic
George Dempster, of Dunnichen; and having had
almost uninterrupted good health up to the patri-
archal age of ninety-three, he died on the 22d of
Febmary, 1816. "He was," to use the words of an
intimate friend of the family, "the last great man of
the preceding century, whose writings did honour
to the age in which they lived, and to their country;
and none of them united in a more distinguished
degree the acquirements of ancient learning to a
perfect knowledge of the world, or more eminently
added to the manners of a most accomplished gentle-
man the principles of the purest virtues."

In his person Dr. Ferguson was well formed, ac-
tive, and muscular; his complexion was fair, his eyes
blue, his features handsome, intelligent, and thought-
ful. There is a very fine and correct portrait of him
in an anteroom at Brompton Grove, the seat of Sir
John Macpherson. Unlike many who have devoted
themselves to the abstruse study of philosophy, he
had an intimate knowledge of the world; having
mixed much with courtiers, statesmen, politicians,
and the learned and accomplished, not only in Great
Britain, but throughout Europe. His knowledge of
the human character was consequently accurate and
extensive; his manners were polished, simple, and
unostentatious; while his conversation was agreeable
and instructive. Warned by an illness with which
he was seized when about the age of fifty, resembling
in its character an apoplectic fit, he abstained from
the use of wine, and during the remainder of his life
lived most abstemiously, and enjoyed an uninter-
rupted course of good health. His fortune was
aftluent; besides the fees and salaries of his class and
the price of his works, he held two pensions, one
from government of ^{^400, and another from Lord
Chesterfield of ;[^200 a year. By these means, aided
by a munificent gift from his pupil. Sir John Mac-

8

JAMES FERGUSON.

pherson, he was enabled to purchase a small estate
near St. Andrews; he was also possessed of a house
and garden in that city, on which he expended
/■looo.

Bred in the tenets of the Church of Scotland, he
was a respectful believer in the truths of revelation;
he did not, however, conceive himself excluded from
cultivating the acquaintance of those who were
directly opposed to him in their religious opinions,
and his intimate friendship with David Hume sub-
jected him to the reprehension of many of the Chris-
tian professors of his time. A list of those with whom
Dr. P'erguson maintained an intimate acquaintance
and intercourse, w(juld include all who rose to emin-
ence during the last half of the eighteenth, and the
early part of the present century. Dr. Ferguson left
six children; three sons and three d.iughters: Adam
in the army, John in the navy, and the third son in
the East India Company's service.*

FERGUSON, J.A..MES, an ingenious experimental
philosopher, mechanist, and astronomer. Of this
miracle of self-instruction and native genius, we can-
not do better than give his own account, as drawn
up by himself a very few years before his death, and
prefixed to YHsSi/ect Me<r/ianiiral Exercises. It is one
of the most interesting specimens of autobiography
in the language.

I was born in the year 1710, a few miles from
Keith, a little village in Banffshire, in the north of
Scotland; and can with pleasure say that my parents,
though poor, were religious and honest ; lived in
good repute with all who knew them; and died with
good characters.

As my father had nothing to support a large family
but his daily labour, and the profits arising from a
few acres of land which he rented, it was not to be
expected that he could bestow much on the educa-
tion of his children; yet they were not neglected;
for at his leisure hours he taught them to read and
write. And it was while he was teaching my elder
brother to read the Scottish catechism that I acquired
my reading. Ashamed to ask my father to instruct
me, I used, when he and my brother v/ere abroad,
to take the catechism, and study the lesson which
he had been teaching my brother; and when any
difficulty occurred, I went to a neighbouring old
woman, who gave me such help as enabled me to
read tolerably well before my father had thought of
teaching me.

Some time after, he was agreeably surprised to find
me reading by myself: he thereupon gave me further
instruction, and also taught me to write; which, with
about three months I afterwards had at the grammar-
school at Keith, was all the education I ever received.

My taste for mechanics arose from an odd accident.
When about seven or eight years of age, a part of
the roof of the house being decayed, my father, de-
sirous of mending it, applied a prop and lever to an
upright spar to raise it to its former situation; and,
to my great astonishment, I saw him, without con-
sidering the reason, lift up the ponderous roof as if
it had been a small weight. I attributed this at first

1 The following is a list of Dr. Ferguson's works:^

The History 0/ Civil Society, in one volume, published 1766.

WXs, Institutes of Moral Philosophy, 8vo, 1769.

His Ans^ver to Dr. Price's Celebrated Obser-oations on
Civil and Political Liberty, 1776. This pamphlet is peculiarly
remarkable fur the liberality and delicacy with which he treats
the principles and intentions of his ant.igonist.

'flu History of the Progress and Termination of the
Roman Republic, 3 vols. 4to, 1783.

And lastly, his celebrated work, entitled. The Principles of
Moral and Political Science, being chiefly a Retrospect of
Lectures delivered in tlie College of Edinburgh, 2 vols. 4to,
1792.

to a degree of strength that excited my terror as well
as wonder: but, thinking further of the matter, I re-
collected that he had ap])lied his strength to that end
of the lever which was furthest from the prop; and
finding, on inquirj', that this was the means whereby
the seeming wonder was effected, I began making
levers (which I then called bars); and by applying
weights to them different ways, I found the power
gained by my bar was just in proportion to the
lengths of the different parts of the bar on either side
of the prop. — I then thought it was a great pity,
that, by means of this bar, a weight could be raised
but a very little way. On this I soon imagined that,
by pulling round a wheel, the weight might be raised
to any height by tying a rope to the weight, and
winding the rope round the axle of the wheel; and
that the power gained must be just as great as the
wheel was broader than the axle was thick; and
found it to be exactly so, by hanging one weight to
a rope put round the wheel, and another to the rope
that coiled round the axle. So that, in these two
machines, it appeared very plain that their advantage
was as great as the space gone through by the work-
ing power exceeded the space gone through by the
weight. And this property I also thought must take
place in a wedge for cleaving wood; but then I hap-
pened not to think of the screw. By means of a .
turning lathe which my father had, and sometimes
used, and a little knife, I was enabled to make wheels
and other things necessary for my purpose.

I then wrote a short account of these machines,
and sketched out figures of them with a pen, ima-
gining it to be the first treatise of the kind that ever
was written, but found my mistake when I after-
wards showed it to a gentleman, who told me that
these things were known long before, and showed
me a printed book in which they were treated of;
and I was much pleased when I found that my ac-
count (so far as I had carried it) agreed with the
principles of mechanics in the book he showed me.
And from that time my mind preserved a constant
tendency to improve in that science.

But as my father could not afford to maintain me
while I was in pursuit only of these matters, and I
was rather too young and weak for hard labour, he
put me out to a neighbour to keep sheep, which I
continued to do for some years; and in that time I
began to study the stars in the night. In the day-
time I amused myself by making models of mills,
spinning-wheels, and such other things as I happened
to see.

I then went to serve a considerable farmer in the
neighbourhood, whose name was James Glashan.
I found him very kind and indulgent; but he soon
observed that in the evenings, when my work was
over, I went into a field with a blanket about me,
lay down on my back, and stretched a thread with
small beads u]X)n it, at arm's-length, between my eye
and the stars, sliding the beads upon it till they hid
such and such stars from my eye, in order to take
their apparent distances from one another, and then,
laying the thread down on a paper, I marked the
.stars thereon by the beads, according to their respec-
tive positions, having a candle by me. My master
at first laughed at me; but when I explained my
meaning to him, he encouraged me to go on; and
that I might make fair copies in the day-time of what
I had done in the night, he often worked for me
himself. I shall always have a respect for the
memory of that man.

One day he happened to send me with a message
to the Rev. Mr. John Gilchrist, minister at Keith, to
whom I had been known from my childhood. I
carried my star-papers to show them to him, and

JAMES FERGUSON.

found him looking over a large parcel of maps, which
I surveyed witli great pleasure, as they were the first
I had ever seen. He then told me that the earth
is rountl like a ball, and explained the map of it to
me. I requested him to lend me that map, to take
a copy of it in the evenings. He cheerfully con-
sented to this, giving me at the same time a pair of
compasses, a ruler, pens, ink, and paper; and dis-
missed me with an injunction not to neglect my
master's business by copying the map, which I might
keep as long as I pleased.

For this pleasant employment my master gave me
more time than I could reasonably expect; and often
took the threshing-flail out of my hands, and worked
himself, while I sat by him in the barn, busy with
my compasses, ruler, and pen.

When I had finished the copy I asked leave to
carry home the map ; he told me I was at liberty to
do so, and might stay two hours to converse with the
minister. In my way thither I happened to pass by
the school at which I had been before, and saw a
genteel-looking man, whose name I afterwards
learned was Cantley, painting a sun-dial on the wall.
I stopped a while to obser\-e him, and the school-
master came out and asked me what parcel it was that
I had under my arm. I showed hmi the map, and
the copy I had made of it, wherewith he appeared to
be very well pleased; and asked me whether I should
not like to learn of Mr. Cantley to make sun-dials?
Mr. Cantley looked at the copy of the map, and com-
mended it much; telling the schoolmaster, Mr. John
Skinner, that it was a pity I did not meet with notice
and encouragement. I had a good deal of conversa-
tion with him, and found him to be quite affable and
communicative ; which made me think I should be
extremely happy if I could be further acquainted
with him.

I then proceeded with the map to the minister,
and showed him the copy of it. While we were
conversing together, a neighbouring gentleman,
Thomas Grant, Esq., of Achoynaney, happened to
come in, and the minister immediately introduced
me to him, showing him what I had done. He ex-
pressed great satisfaction, asked me some questions
about the construction of maps, and told me that if
I would go and live at his house, he would order his
butler, Alexander Cantley, to give me a great deal
of instruction. Finding that this Cantley was the
man whom I had seen painting the sun-dial, and of
whom I had already conceived a very high opinion,
I told 'squire Grant that I should rejoice to be at
his house as soon as the time was expired for which
I was engaged with my present master. He very
politely offered to put one in my place, but this I
declined.

When the term of my servitude was out I left
my good master and went to the gentleman's house,
where I quickly found myself with a most humane
good family. Rlr. Cantley the butler soon became
my friend, and continued so till his death. He was
the most extraordinary man that I ever was ac-
quainted with, or perhaps ever shall see; for he was
a complete master of arithmetic, a good mathema-
tician, a master of music on every known instrument
except the harp, understood Latin, French, and
Greek, let blood extremely well, and could even
prescribe as a physician upon any urgent occasion.
He was what is generally called self-taught ; but I
think he might with much greater propriety have
been termed God Almighty's scholar.

He immediately began to teach me decimal arith-
metic and algebra; for I had already learned vulgar
arithmetic at my leisure hours from books. He then
proceeded to teach me the elements of geometry;

but, to my inexpressible grief, just as I was begin-
ning that branch of science, he left Mr. Grant, and
went to the late Earl Fife's, at several miles' distance.
The good family I was then with could not prevail
with me to stay after he was gone; so I left them, and
went to my father's.

He had made me a present of Gordoit's Geographi-
cal Gravu/iar, which at that time was to me a great
treasure. There is no figure of a globe in it, although
it contains a tolerable description of the globes, and
their use. From this description I made a globe in
three weeks at my father's, having turned the ball
thereof out of a piece of wood; which ball I covered
with paper, and delineated a map of the world upon
it, made the meridian ring and horizon of wood,
covered them with paper, and graduated them ; and
was happy to find that by my globe, which was the
first I ever saw, I could solve the problems.

But this was not likely to afford me bread; and I
could not think of staying with my father, who, I
knew full well, could not maintain me in that W'ay,
as it could be of no service to him; and he had,
without my assistance, hands sufficient for all his
work.

I then went to a miller, thinking it would be a
very easy business to attend the mill, and that I
should have a great deal of leisure time to study
decimal arithmetic and geometry. But my master,
being too fond of tippling at an ale-house, left the
whole care of the mill to me, and almost star\-ed me
for want of victuals; so that I was glad when I could
have a little oatmeal mixed with cold water to eat.
I was engaged for a year in that man's service; at
the end of which I left him, and returned in a very
weak state to my father's.

Soon after I had recovered my former strength, a
neighbouring farmer, who practised as a physician
in that part of the country, came to my father's,
wanting to have me as a labouring servant. My
father advised me to go to Dr. Young, telling me
that the doctor would instruct me in that part of his
business. This he promised to do, which was a
temptation to me. But instead of performing his
promise, he kept me constantly at very hard labour,
and never once showed me one of his books. All
his servants complained that he was the hardest
master they had ever lived with; and it was my mis-
fortune to be engaged with him for half a year. But
at the end of three months I was so much over-
wrought that I was almost disabled, which obliged
me to leave him; and he was so unjust as to give me
nothing at all for the time I had been with him,
because I did not complete my half-year's service;
though he knew that I was not able, and had seen
me working for the last fortnight as much as possible
with one hand and arm, when I could not lift the
other from my side. And what I thought was par-
ticularly hard, he never once tried to give me the
least relief, further than once bleeding me, which
rather did me hurt than good, as I was very weak,
and much emaciated. I then went to my father's,
where I was confined for two months on account of
my hurt, and despaired of ever recovering the use of
my left arm. And during all that time the doctor
never once came to see me, although the distance
was not quite two miles. But my friend Mr. Cantley,
hearing of my misfortune, at twelve miles' distance,
sent me proper medicines and applications, by means
of which I recovered the use of my arm; but found
myself too weak to think of going into service again,
and had entirely lost my appetite, so that I could
take nothing but a draught of milk once a day for
many weeks.

In order to amuse mvself in this low state, I made

JAMES FERGUSON.

a wooden clock, the frame of which was also of wood;
and it kept time pretty well. The bell on which the
hammer struck the hours was the neck of a broken
bottle. Having then no idea how any time-keeper
could go but by a weight and a line, I wondered
how a watch could go in all positions; and was sorry
that I had never thought of asking Mr. Cantley, who
could very easily have informed me. But happening
one day to see a gentleman ride by my father's house,
which was close by a public road, I asked him what
o'clock it then was; he looked at his watch and told
me. As he did that with so much good nature, I
begged of him to show me the inside of his watch;
and though he was an entire stranger, he immedi-
ately opened the watch and put it into my hands.
I saw the spring-box with part of the chain round it,
and asked him what it was that made the box turn
round; he told me that it was turned round by a
steel spring within it. Having then never seen any
other spring than that of my father's gun-lock, I
asked how a spring within a box could turn the box
so often round as to wind all the chain upon it. He
answered that the spring was long and thin, that one
end of it was fastened to the axis of the box, and the
other end to the inside of the box, that the axis was
fixed, and the box was loose upon it. I told him I did
not yet thoroughly understand the matter: — "Well,
my lad," says he, "take a long thin piece of whale-
bone, hold one end of it fast between your finger and
thumb, and wind it round your finger, it will then
endeavour to unwind itself; and if you fix the other
end of it to the inside of a small hoop, and leave it
to itself, it will turn the hoop round and round, and
wind up a thread tied to the outside of the hoop." —
I thanked the gentleman, and told him that I under-
stood the thing very well. I then tried to make a
watch with wooden wheels, and made the spring of
whalebone; but found that I could not make the
watch go when the balance was put on, because the
teeth of the wheels were rather too weak to bear the
farce of a spring sufficient to move the balance;
although the wheels would run fast enough when the
balance was taken off. I inclosed the whole in a
wooden case very little bigger than a breakfast tea-
cup; but a clumsy neighbour one day looking at my
watch, happened to let it fall, and turning hastily
about to pick it up, set his foot upon it, and crushed
it all to pieces; which so provoked my father that he
was almost ready to beat the man, and discouraged
me so much that I never attempted to make such
another machine again, especially as I was thoroughly
convinced I could never make one that would he of
any real use.

As soon as I was able to go abroad I carried my
globe, clock, and copies of some other maps besides
that of the world, to the late Sir James Dunbar of
Dum, about seven miles from where my father lived,
as I had heard that Sir James was a very good-
natured, friendly, inquisitive gentleman. He re-
ceived me in a very kind manner, was pleased with
what I showed him, and desired I would clean his
clocks. This, for the first time, I attempted ; and
then began to pick up some money in that way
about the country, making Sir James's house my
home at his desire.

Two large globular stones stood on the top of his
gate; on one of them I painted with oil-colours a
map of the terrestrial globe, and on the other a map
of the celestial, from a planisphere of the stars which
I copied on paper from a celestial globe belonging
to a neighbouring gentleman. The poles of the
painted globes stood toward the poles of the heavens;
on each the twenty-four hours were placed around
the ecjuinoctial, so as to show the time of the day

when the sun shone out, by the boundary where the
half of the globe at any time enlightened by the sun
was parted from the other half in the shade; the
enlightened parts of the terrestrial globe answering to
the like enlightened parts of the earth at all times.
So that whenever the sun shone on the globe, one
might see to what places the sun was then rising, to
what places it was setting, and all the places where
it was then day or night throughout the earth.

During the time I was at Sir James's hospitable
house, his sister, the honourable Lady Dipple, came
there on a visit, and Sir James introduced me to her.
She asked me whether I could draw patterns for
needle-work on aprons and gowns. On showing
me some I undertook the work, and drew several
for her; some of which were copied from her patterns,
and the rest I did according to my own fancy. On
this I was sent for by other ladies in the countr)',
and began to think myself growing very rich by the
money I got for such drawings, out of which I had
the pleasure of occasionally supplying the wants of
my poor father.

Vet all this while I could not leave off star-gazing
in the nights, and taking the places of the planets
among the stars by my above-mentioned thread.
By this I could observe how the planets changed
their places among the stars, and delineated their
paths on the celestial map, which I had copied from
the above-mentioned celestial globe.

By observing what constellations the ecliptic
passed through in that map, and comparing these
with the starry heaven, I was so impressed as some-
times to imagine that I saw the ecliptic in the
heaven, among the stars, like a broad circular road
for the sun's apparent course; and fancied the paths
of the planets to resemble the narrow ruts made by
cart-wheels, sometimes on one side of a plain road,
and sometimes on the other, crossing the road at
small angles, but never going far from either side of
it.

Sir James's house was full of pictures and prints,
several of which I copied with pen and ink; this
made him think I might become a painter.

Lady Dipple had been but a few weeks there
when William Baird, Esq. of Auchmedden, came on
a visit ; he was the husband of one of that lady's
daughters, and I found him to be verj- ingenious and
communicative ; he invited me to go to his house
and stay some time with him, telling me that I
should have free access to his library', which was a
very large one, and that he would funiish me with
all sorts of implements for drawing. I went thither,
and stayed about eight months ; but was much dis-
appointed in finding no books of astronomy in his
library, except what was in the two volumes of
Harris's Lexicon Technicum, although there were
many books on geography and other sciences.
Several of these indeed were in Latin, and more in
French, which being languages that I did not under-
stand, I had recourse to him for what I wanted to
know of these subjects, which he cheerfully read to
me ; and it was as easy for him at sight to read
English from a Greek, Latin, or French book, as
from an English one. He furnished me with pencils
and Indian ink, showing me how to draw with them ;
and although he had but an indifferent hand at that
work, yet he was a very acute judge, and conse-
quently a very fit person for showing me how to
correct my own work. He was the first who ever
sat to me for a picture ; and I found it was much
easier to draw from the life than from any picture
whatever, as nature was more striking than any imi-
tation of it.

Lady Dipple came to his house in about half a

JAMES FERGUSOX.

year after I went thither; and as they thouglit I had
a genius for painting, they consulted together about
what might be the best way to put me forward.
Mr. Baird thought it wouhl be no difficult matter to
make a collection for me among the neighbouring
gentlemen, to put me to a painter at Edinlnirgh; but
he found, upon trial, that nothing worth the while
could be done among them : and as to himself, he
could not do much that way, because he had but a
small estate, and a very numerous family.

Lady Dipple then told me that she was to go to
Edinburgh next spring, and that if I would go thither
she would give me a year's bed and board at her
house gratis; and make all the interest she could for
me among her acquaintance there. I thankfully
accepted of her kind offer; and, instead of giving me
one year, she gave me two. I carried with me a
letter of recommendation from the Lord Pitsligo, a
near neighbour of Squire Baird's, to Mr. John Alex-
ander, a painter in Edinburgh, who allowed me to
pass an hour every day at his house for a month, to
copy from his drawings; and said he would teach me
to paint in oil-colours if I would serve him seven
years, and my friends would maintain me all that
time; but this was too much for me to desire them to
do, nor did I choose to serve so long. I was then
recommended to other painters, but they would do
nothing without money; so I was quite at a loss what
to do.

In a few days after this I received a letter of re-
commendation from my good friend Squire Baird
to the Rev. Dr. Robert Keith at Edinburgh, to whom
I gave an account of my bad success among the
painters there. He told me, that if I would copy
from nature I might do without their assistance, as
all the rules for drawing signified but very little when
one came to draw from the life; and by what he had
seen of my drawings brought from the north, he
judged I might succeed very well in drawing pictures
from the life, in Indian ink, on vellum. He then sat
to me for his own picture, and sent me with it and
a letter of recommendation to the Right Honourable
the Lady Jane Douglas, who lived with her mother,
the Marchioness of Douglas, at Merchiston House,
near Edinburgh. Both the marchioness and Lady
Jane behaved to me in the most friendly manner, on
Dr. Keith's account, and sat for their pictures, telling
me at the same time that I was in the very room in
which Lord Napier invented and computed the loga-
rithms; and that if I thought it would inspire me, I
should always have the same room whenever I came
to Merchiston. I stayed there several days, and
drew several pictures of Lady Jane, of whom it was
hard to say whether the greatness of her beauty or
the goodness of her temper and disposition was the
most predominant. She sent these pictures to ladies
of her acquaintance, in order to recommend me to
them; by which means I soon had as much business
as I could possibly manage, so as not only to put a
good deal of money in my own pocket, but also to
spare what was sufficient to help to supply my father
and mother in their old age. Thus a business was
providentially put into my hands, which I followed
for six and twenty years.

Lady Dipple, being a woman of the strictest piety,
kept a watchful eye over me at first, and made me
give her an exact account at night of what families
I had been in throughout the day, and of the money
I had received. She took the money each night,
desiring I would keep an account of what I had put
into her hands; telling me that I should duly have
out of it what I wanted for clothes, and to send to
my father. But in less than half a year she told me
that she would thenceforth trust me with being my

own banker; for she had made a good deal of private
inquiry how I had behaved when I was out of lier sight
through the day, and was satisfied with my conduct.

During my two years' stay at Edinburgh I some-
how took a violent inclination to study anatomy,
surgery, and physic, all from reading of books, and
conversing with gentlemen on these subjects, which
for that time j)ut all thoughts of astronomy out of my
mind; and I had no inclination to become acquainted
with any one there who taught either mathematics
or astronomy, for nothing would serve me but to be
a doctor.

At the end of the second year I left Edinburgh
and went to see my father, thinking myself tolerably
well qualified to be a physician in that part of the
country, and I carried a good deal of medicines,
plaisters, &c., thither; but to my mortification I soon
found that all my medical theories and study were
of little use in practice. And then, finding that very
few paid me for the medicines they had, and that I
was far from being so successful as I could wish, I
quite left off that business, and began to think of
taking to the more sure one of drawing pictures
again. For this purpose I went to Inverness, where
I had eight months' business.

When I was there I began to think of astronomy
again, and was heartily sorry for having quite ne-
glected it at Edinburgh, where I might have improved
my knowledge by conversing with those who were
very able to assist me. I began to compare the
ecliptic with its twelve signs, through which the sun
goes in twelve months, to the circle of twelve hours
on the dial-plate of a watch, the hour-hand to the
sun, and the minute-hand to the moon, moving in
the ecliptic, the one always overtaking the other at
a place forwarder than it did at their last conjunction
before. On this I contrived and finished a scheme
on paper for showing the motions and places of the
sun and moon in the ecliptic on each day of the year
perpetually; and consequently, the days of all the
new and full moons.

To this I wanted to add a method for showing the
eclipses of the sun and moon; of which I knew the
cause long before, by having observed that the moon
was for one half of her period on the north side of
the ecliptic, and for the other half on the south.
But not having observed her course long enough
among the stars by my above-mentioned thread, so
as to delineate her path on my celestial map, in order
to find the two opposite points of the ecliptic in
which her orbit crosses it, I was altogether at a loss
how and where in the ecliptic, in my scheme, to
place these intersecting points: this was in the year

1739-

At last I recollected, that when I was with Squire
Grant of Auchoynaney, in the year 1730, I had read,
that on the 1st of January, 1690, the moon's ascend-
ing node was in the tenth minute of the first degree
of Aries ; and that her nodes moved backward
through the whole ecliptic in iS years and 224 days,
which was at the rate of 3 minutes 11 seconds every
24 hours. But as I scarce knew in the year 1730
what the moon's nodes meant, I took no farther
notice of it at that time.

However, in the year 1739, I set to work at Inver-
ness; and after a tedious calculation of the slow
motion of the nodes from January, 1690, to January,
1740, it appeared to me that (if I was sure I had
remembered right) the moon's ascending node must
be in 23 degrees 25 minutes of Cancer at the be-
ginning of the year 1740. And so I added the
eclipse part to my scheme, and called it the Astro-
nomical Rotula.

When I had finished it I showed it to the Rev.

12

TAMES FERGUSON.

Mr. Alexander Macbean, one of the ministers at
Inverness; who told me he had a set of almanacs by
him for several years past, and would examine it by
the eclipses mentioned in them. We examined it
together, and found that it agreed throughout with
the days of all the new and full moons and eclipses
mentioned in these almanacs; which made me think
I had constructed it upon true astronomical prin-
ciples. On this Mr Macbean desired me to write to
Mr. Maclaurin, professor of mathematics at Edin-
burgh, and give him an account of the methods by
which I had formed my plan, requesting him to
correct it where it was wrong. He returned me a
most polite and friendly answer, although I had
never seen him during my stay at Edinburgh, and
informed me that I had only mistaken the radical
mean place of the ascending node by a quarter of a
degree; and that if I would send the drawing of my
rotula to him, he would examine it, and endeavour
to procure me a subscription to defray the charges
of engraving it on copperplates, if I chose to pub-
lish it. I then made a new and correct drawing of
it, and sent it to him: who soon got me a very hand-
some subscription, by setting the example himself,
and sending subscription papers to others.

I then returned to Edinburgh, and had the rotula
plates engraved there by Mr. Cooper.* It has gone
through several impressions, and always sold very
well till the year 1752, when the style was changed,
which rendered it quite useless. Mr. Maclaurin
received me with the greatest civility when I first
went to see him at Edinburgh. He then became an
exceeding good friend to me, and continued so till
his death.

One day I requested him to show me his orrerj',
which he immediately did; I was greatly delighted
with the motions of the earth and moon in it, and
would gladly have seen the wheel- work, which was
concealed in a brass box, and the box and planets
above it were surrounded by an armillary sphere.
But he told me that he never had opened it; and I
could easily perceive that it could not be opened but
by the hand of some ingenious clock-maker, and not
without a great deal of time and trouble.

After a good deal of thinking and calculation, I
found that I could contrive the wheel-work for turn-
ing the planets in such a machine, and giving them
their progressive motions; but should be very well
satisfied if I could make an orrery to show the mo-
tions of the earth and moon, and of the sun round
its axis. I then employed a turner to make me a
sufficient number of wheels and axles, according to
patterns which I gave him in drawing; and after
having cut the teeth in the wheels by a knife, and
put the whole together, I found that it answered all
my expectations. It showed the sun's motion round
its axis, the diurnal and annual motions of the earth
on its inclined axis, which kept its parallelism in its
whole course round the sun; the motions and phases
of the moon, with the retrograde motion of the nodes
of her orbit; and consequently, all the variety of
seasons, the different lengths of days and nights, the
days of the new and full moons, and eclipses.

When it was all completed except the box that
covers the wheels, I showed it to .Mr. Maclaurin,
who commended it in presence of a great many young
gentlemen who attended his lectures. He desired
me to read them a lecture on it, which I did without
any hesitation, seeing I had no reason to he afraid of
speaking before a great and good man who was my
friend. Soon after that I sent it in a present to the

1 Cooper was master to the justly celebrated Sir Robert
Strange, who was at that time his apprentice.

reverend and ingenious Mr. Alexander Irvine, one
of the ministers at Elgin, in Scotland.

I then made a smaller and neater orrer)-, of ^^ hich
all the wheels were of ivorj', and I cut the teeth in
them with a file. This was done in the beginning
of the year 1743; and in May that year I brought it
with me to London, where it was soon after bought
by Sir Dudley Rider. I have made six orreries since
that time, and there are not any two of them in which
the wheel-work is alike, for I could never bear to
copy one thing of that kind from another, because I
still saw there was great room for improvements.

I had a letter of recommendation from Mr. Baron
Eldin at Edinburgh, to the Right Honourable Stephen
Poyntz, Esq., at St. James's, who had been pre-
ceptor to his royal highness the late Duke of Cum-
berland, and was well known to be possessed of all
the good qualities that can adorn a human mind.
To me his goodness was really beyond my power of
expression; and I had not been a month in London
till he informed me that he had written to an eminent
professor of mathematics to take me into his house,
and give me board and lodging, with all proper in-
structions to qualify me for teaching a mathematical
school he (^Ir. Poyntz) had in view for me, and
would get me settled in it. This I should have liked
very well, especially as I began to be tired of draw-
ing pictures; in which, I confess, I never strove to
excel, because my mind was still pursuing things
more agreeable. He soon after told me he had just
received an answer from the mathematical master,
desiring I might be sent immediately to him. On
hearing this I told Mr. Poyntz that I did not know
how to maintain my wife during the time I must be
under the master's tuition. "What!" says he, "are
you a married man ?" I told him I had been so ever
since May in the year 1739. He said he was sorry
for it, because it quite defeated his scheme, as the
master of the school he had in view for me must
be a bachelor.

He then asked me what business I intended to
follow? I answered that I knew of none besides
that of drawing pictures. On this he desired me to
draw the pictures of his lady and children, that he
might show them, in order to recommend me to
others, and told me that when I was out of business
I should come to him and he would find me as much
as he could; and I soon found as much as 1 could
execute; but he died in a few years after, to my in-
expressible grief

Soon afterward it appeared to me, that although
the moon goes round the earth, and that the sun is
far on the outside of the moon's orbit, yet the moon's
motion must be in a line, that is, always concave
toward the sun; and upon making a delineation re-
presenting her absolute path in the heavens, I found
it to be really so. I then made a simple machine
for delineating both her path and the earth's on a
long paper laid on the floor. I carried the machine
and delineation to the late ]\Iartin Folkes, Esq.,
president of the Royal Society, on a Thursday after-
noon. He expressed great satisfaction at seeing it,
as it was a new discovery, and took me that evening
with him to the Royal Society, where I showed tlie
delineation, and the method of doing it.

When the business of the society was over, one
of the members desired me to dine with him next
Saturday at Hackney, telling me that his name was
Ellicott, and that he was a watchmaker.

I accordingly went to Hackney, and was kindly
received by Air. John Ellicott, who then showed me
the very same kind of delineation, and part of the
machine by which he had done it; telling me that
he had thought of it twenty years before. I could

JAMES FERGUSON.

13

easily see by the colour of the paper, and of the ink
lines upon it, that it must have been done many
years before I saw it. He then told me what was
very certain, that he had neither stolen the thought
from me, nor had I from him. And from that time
till his death Mr. EUicott was one of my best friends.
The figure of this machine and delineation is in the
seventh plate of my book of Astronomy.

Soon after the style was changed I had my rotula
new engraved; but have neglected it too much, by
not fitting it up and advertising it. After this I
drew out a scheme, and had it engraved, for showing
all the problems of the rotula except the eclipses;
and in place of that it shows the times of rising and
setting of the sun, moon, and stars; and the positions
of the stars for any time of the night.

In the year 1747 I published a dissertation on the
phenomena of the har^-est-moon, with the description
of a new orrer}', in which there are only four wheels.
But having never had grammatical education, nor
time to study the rules of just composition, I acknow-
ledge that I was afraid to put it to the press; and for
the same cause I ought to have the same fears still.
But having the pleasure to find that this my first
work was not ill received, I was emboldened to go
on in publishing my Astronomy, Mechanical Lectures,
tables and tracts relative to several arts and sciences,
the Young Gentleman and Lad^s Astro>iomy, a small
treatise on electricity, and the following sheets.

In the year 1748 I ventured to read lectures on
the eclipse of the sun that fell on the 14th of July in
that year. Afterwards I began to read astronomical
lectures on an orrery which I made, and of which
the figures of all the wheel-work are contained in the
sixth and seventh plates of this book. I next began
to make an apparatus for lectures on mechanics, and
gradually increased the apparatus for other parts of
experimental philosophy, buying from others what I
could not make for myself, till I brought it to its
present state. I then entirely left off drawing pic-
tures, and employed myself in the much pleasanter
business of reading lectures on mechanics, hydro-
statics, hydraulics, pneumatics, electricity, and astro-
nomy, in all which my encouragement has been
greater than I could have expected.

The best machine I ever contrived is the eclip-
sareon, of which there is a figure in the thirteenth
plate of my Astrono/ny. It shows the time, quantity,
duration, and progress of solar eclipses at all parts of
the earth. My next best contrivance is the universal
dialing cylinder, of which there is a figure in the
eighth plate of the supplement to my Mechanical
Lectures.

It is now thirty years since I came to London, and
during all that time I have met with the highest
instances of friendship from all ranks of people, both
in town and country, which I do here acknowledge
with the utmost respect and gratitude, and particu-
larly the goodness of our present gracious sovereign,
who, out of his privy purse, allows me £^^0 a year,
which is regularly paid without any deduction.

To this narrative we shall add the few particulars
which are necessary to complete the view of Fergu-
son's life and character. ^

1 The following is a succinct list of his published works: —
I. Astro7iomical Tables, and Precepts for Calculating t)ie
True Times of Ne-u and Full Moons, &c., 1763. — 2. Tables
and Tracts relative to Several Arts a>id Scienees, 1767. — 3.
An Easy Introduction to Astronomy, for Y&ung Gentlemen
and Ladies, 2d edit. 1769. — 4. Astronotny Explained upon
Sir Isaac Newton's Principles, ^\^ edit. 1772. — 5. Lectures
on Select Subjects in Mechanics, Hydrostatics, Pneumatics,
atid Optics, 4th edit. 1772. — 6. Select Mec/utnical Exercises,
with a Short Account of tlie Life of t/u Autlior, by Himself,
'ilTi- — 7- The Art of Drawing in Perspective Made Easy,
1775 — 8. An Introduction to Electricity, 1775. — 9. Two

Ferguson was honoured with the royal bounty,
which he himself mentions, through the mere zeal of
King George III. in behalf of science. His majesty
had attended some of the lectures of the ingenious
astronomer, and often sent for him, after his acces-
sion, to converse upon scientific and curious topics.
He had the extraordinary honour of being elected a
member of the Royal Society without paying either
the initiatory or the annual fees, which were dis-
pensed with in his case from a supposition of his
being too poor to pay them without inconvenience.
From the same idea many persons gave him very
handsome presents. But to the astonishment of all
who knew him, he died worth about _;^6ooo.

"Ferguson," says Charles Hutton in his Mathe-
matical Dictionary, "must be allowed to have been
a very uncommon genius, especially in mechanical
contrivances and inventions, for he constructed many
machines himself in a very neat manner. He had
also a good taste in astronomy as well as in natural
and experimental philosophy, and was possessed of
a happy manner of explaining himself in a clear, easy,
and familiar way. His general mathematical know-
ledge, however, was little or nothing. Of algebra
he understood but little more than the notation; and
he has often told me that he could never demonstrate
one proposition in Euclid's Elements, his constant
method being to satisfy himself as to the truth of any
problem with a measurement by scale and compasses."
He was a man of very clear judgment in anything
that he professed, and of unwearied application to
study: benevolent, meek, and innocent in his man-
ners as a child ; humble, courteous, and communi-
cative : instead of pedantr}', philosophy seemed to
produce in him only diffidence and urbanity — a love
for mankind and for his Maker. His whole life was
an example of resignation and Christian piety. He
might be called an enthusiast in his love of God, if
religion founded on such substantial and enlightened
grounds as his was could be like enthusiasm. After
a long and useful life, unhappy in his family connec-
tions, in a feeble and precarious state of health, worn
out with study, age, and infirmities, he died on the
1 6th of November, 1776.

"Ferguson's only daughter," says Mr. Nichols in
his life of Bowyer, "was lost in a ver>' singular
manner at about the age of eighteen. She was re-
markable for the elegance of her person, the agree-
ablenessand vivacity of her conversation, and in philo-
sophic genius and knowledge worthy of such a father.
His son, Mr. Murdoch Ferguson, was a surgeon, and
attempted to settle at Bury, stayed but a little while,
went to sea, was cast away, and lost his all, a little
before his father's death, but found himself in no bad
plight after that event. He had another son, who
studied at Marischal College, Aberdeen, from 1772
to 1777, and afterwards, it is believed, applied to
physic."

The astronomer has been thus elegantly noticed in
Eudosia, a Poem on the Universe, by Mr. Capel
Lloft: —

" Nor shall thy guidance but conduct our feet,
O honoured shepherd of our later days!
Thee from the flocks, while thy untutored soul,
Mature in childhood, traced the starr>- course,
Astronomy, enamoured, gently led
Through all the splendid labyrinths of heaven,
And taught thee her stupendous laws; and clothed
In all the light of fair simplicity,
Thy apt expression."

Letters to tlie Rev. Mr. John Kennedy, 1775.— 10. A Third
Letter to tlie Rev. Mr. John Kcntudy, 1775. He communi-
cated also several letters to the Royal Society, which are
printed in their Transactions. In 1805 a ver>- valuable edition
of his lectures was pubUshed at Edinburgh by Dr. Brewster,
in 2 vols. 8vo, with notes and an appendix, the whole adapted
to the present state of the arts and sciences.

u

ROBERT FERGUSSON.

FERGUSSON, Robert, an ingenious poet, like
his successor Bums, drew his descent from the coun-
try north of the Forth. His father, William Fergus-
son, after ser>ing an apprenticeship to a tradesman
in Aberdeen, and having married Elizabeth Forbes, ]
by whom he had three children, removed, in 1746, i
to Edinburgh, where he was employed as a clerk by }
several masters in succession. It appears that the '
father of the poet had himself in early life courted j
the Muses, and was at all f>eriods remarkable as a
man of taste and ingenuity. When acting as clerk to
Messrs. Wardrop and Peat, upholsterers m Camibber's
Close, he framed a very useful book of rates; and he
eventually attained the respectable situation of ac-
countant to the Briibh Linen Company, but whether
in its ultimate capacity of a bank has not been men- i
tioned. Previous to his arrival in Edinburgh he
had two sons and a daughter, bom in the following [
order: Henrj-, 17+2; Barbara,' 1744; John (who j
seems to have died young), 1 746. After remo\ing
thither he had at least two other children, Robert, I
born 1750, and Margaret,* 1753.

The subject of this memoir was born on the 17th |
of October,' 1750, and was an exceedingly delicate
child. Owing to the state of his health, he was not ,
sent to school till his sLvth year, though it is likely I
that his parents gave him a good deal of private in- [
struction before that time. What renders this the
more probable is, that he had not been six months
under his first teacher (a Mr. Philp in Niddrj-'s
W\-nd) when he was judged fit to be transferred to
the high-school, and entered in the first Latin class.
Here he went through the usual classical course of
four years, under a teacher named Gilchrist. What
degree of proficiency he might have attained under
ordinarj' circumstances it is impossible to determine;
but it is to be related to his credit, that, though fre-
quently absent for a considerable period in conse-
quence of bad health, he nevertheless kept fully
abreast of his companions, a temporary application
being sufficient to bring him up to any point which the
class had attained in his absence. At the same time
he acquired, in the leisure of confinement, a taste for
general reading, and it is stated that the Bible was
his favourite book. A remarkable instance of the
vi\-id impressions of which he was s\isceptible occurred
at an early period. In p>erusing the Proverbs of
Solomon one passage struck his infant mind with
peculiar force ; and hastening to his mother's apart-
ment in tears, he besought her to chastise him. Sur-
prised at a request so extraordinary.-, she inquired the
cause of it, when he exclaimed — " O mother I he that
spareth the rod hateth the child I" So ingenuous by
nature was the mind of this boy, and such the pure
source whence his youth drew instructions, which,
disregarded but not forgotten amid the gaieties of a
long course of dissipation, at last reasserted in a fear-
ful manner their influence over him.

Fergusson finished his elementary education at the
grammar-school of Dundee, which he attended for
two years. His parents had resolved to educate him
for the church, and with that \-iew removed him in
his thirteenth year to the university of St. Andrews,
which he entered with the advantage of a bursarj-,
endowed by a Mr. Fergusson, for the benefit of
young men of the same name. Here his abilities re-
commended him to the notice of Dr. Wilkie, author

• .Afterwords the wife of Mr. David Inverarir>-, joiner.

* After»'ards the wife of Mr. Alexander Duvsj, purser in the
navy.

*The date usually given is 3th September, which appears,
however, from a list by Mrs. Duval, to have been the birth-
day of the elder sister, Barbara. The above is the date given
by Mrs. DuvaL

of the Epi^^oniad, then professor of natural philo-
sophy, and it has even been said that learned person
made choice of him to read his lectures to his class
when sickness or other causes prevented his own
p)erformance of the duty. Dr. Irsnng ridicules the
idea of a youth of sixteen "mounting," as he expresses
it, "the professorial rostrum;'' and besides the in-
adequacy of years, Fergusson possessed none of that
gravity of demeanour which was calculated to secure
the respectful attention of his compeers. His classi-
cal attainments were respectable, but for the austerer
branches of scholastic and scientific knowledge he
alwaj-s expressed, with the petulance of a youth of
lively parts who did not wish to be subjected to the
labour of hard study, a decided contempt. Dr.
Wilkie's regards must therefore have been attracted
by other qualifications than those of the graver and
more solid cast — namely, by the sprightly humour and
uncommon powers of conversation for which Fergus-
son was already in a remarkable degree distinguished.
The story of his reading the lectures in public
arose from his ha\'ing been employed to transcribe
them. Professor VUant, in a letter to Mr. Inverarity
on this subject, says, "A youthful frolicsome exhi-
bition of your uncle first directed Dr. Wilkie's at-
tention to him, and he afterwards employed him one
summer and part of another in transcribing a fair
copy of his academical lectures." On the doctor's
death, in 1772, Fergusson showed his gratitude in
a poem dedicated to his memory. In this composi-
tion, which assumed the form of a Scottish eclogue,
Wilkie's success as an agTicult;iral improver was not
forgotten. He had cultivated, with a very remark-
able degree of skill, a farm in the vicinity of St.
Andrews; and we must go back to the time when
our fathers were contented to raise small patches of
stunted com here and there, on the uninclosed moor,
in order to appreciate fially the enterprise which
merited the youthfiil poet's compliment: —

*" Lang had the thristles and the dockans been
In use to wag their taps upo' the green
WTiare now his bonny rigs delight the view.
And thriving hedges drink the cauler dew."

Among his fellow-students Fergusson was distin-
guished for ^^vacity and humour, and his poetical
talents soon began to display themselves on subjects
of local and occasional interest, in such a way as to
attract the notice both of his companions and of their
teachers. We are warranted in concluding, that
the pieces to which he owed this celebrity were dis-
tinguished by passages of no ordinary merit, for pro-
fessors are not a set of men upon whom it is easy to
produce an impression. It is indeed said that the
youthful poet chose the ready instnmient of sarcasm
with which to move their calm collectedness; but if
this were true, the satire must have been of a playfiil
nature; for, from all that has appeared, these gentle-
men manifested nothing but kindly feelings towards
their pupil, and he a corresponding afi'ection and re-
spect for them. Besides the tribute which he paid
to the memory of Wilkie, he wrote an elegy on the
death of Mr. Gregory*, the professor of mathematics, ^
in which, though the prevailing tone is that of re- I
spectful regret, we probably have an example of the
length to which he ventured in his satirical effusions.
Bewailing the loss that the scientific world had sus-
tained by the decease of this learned person, and
enumerating various instances of his sagacity, he
says, with irrepressible waggery,

" By numbers, too, he could divine
That three times three just made up nine;
But now he's dead!

Another effusion of which the occasion may be re-
ferred to the time of Fergusson's attendance at college,

ROBERT FERGUSSOX.

15

is his elegy on John Hogg, porter to the university;
in this piece he alludes with some humour to the
unwillingness with which ha was wont to quit his
comfortable bed in a morning after some frolic,
when that functionary was sent to summon him be-
fore the college tribunal. The familiarity of the old
door-keeper, together with the denii- professorial
stram of his admonitions, is not unhappily portrayed
in the stanza —

" When I had been fu' laith to rise,
John then begude to moralize —
' fhe tither nap — the sluggard cries,

And turns him round;
Sae spak auld Solomon the wise,

Uivine profound !' "

If Fergusson thus remembered in a kindly manner
the species of intercourse wiiicli his exploits had ren-
dered necessary between him and the servants of the
university, they seem on their part to have cherished
a corresponding degree of partiality for him. Mr.
James Inverarity, a nephew of the poet, had the
curiosity to ask one of them if he recollected Robert
Fergusson. "Bob Fergusson !" exclaimed the man;
"that I do ! Many a time I've put him to the door
— ah, he was a tricky callant; but," he added, "a
fine laddie for a' that." He seemed to feel great
pleasure in the recollection of so lively and so amiable
a boy.

While at college the young poet used to put in
practice a frolic which marks the singular vivacity
of his character. Whenever he received a remittance
from his friends at Edinburgh, he hung out the
money in a little bag attached by a string to the end
of a pole fixed in his window; and there he would
let it dangle for a whole day in the wind. He is
supposed to have done this partly from puerile exul-
tation in the possession of his wealth, and partly by
way of making a bravado in the eyes of his com-
panions; among whom, no doubt, the slenderness of
their funds and the failure of supplies would be fre-
quent subjects of raillery.

His talents of mimicry were great, and his sportive
humour was ever too exuberant, and sometimes led
him to overstep the bounds of justifiable indulgence.
"An instance of this," says Mr. Tennant in the Edin-
burgh Literary yournal (No. 164), "was communi-
cated to me by the late Rev. Dr. James Brown, his
fellow-student at St. Andrews, who was also a poet,^
and who, from kindred delights and sympathies, en-
joyed much of Fergusson's society. On the afternoon
of a college holiday they took a walk together into
the country, and after perambulating many farms,
and tripping with fraternal glee over field and hil-
lock, they at last, being desirous of a little rest, be-
thought themselves of calling at a small farmhouse,
or pendicle, as it is named, on the king's muirs of
Denino. They approached the house and were
kindly invited to a seat by the rustic and honest-
hearted family. A frank and unceremonious con-
versation immediately took place, in the course
of which it was discovered that a young person, a
member of the family, was lying ill of fever. The
playful Fergusson instantly took it into his head to
profess himself a medical practitioner; — he started
to his feet, begged to be shown to the sick-bed; ap-
proached, and felt the pulse of the patient; assumed
a serious air; put the usual pathological interroga-
tories; and pronounced his opinion with a pomp and
dignity worthy of a true doctor of physic. In short,

^ " Dr. Brown, who was for thirty years rector of a consider-
able parish in the neighbourhood of London, was the author of a
pjem called Britain Preserved, written about 1793, in refer-
ence to, and commendation of, Mr. Pitt's plan of policy, then
adopted."

he personated his assumed cliaracter so perfectly,
that his frientl Brown, though somewhat vexed, was
confounded into silent admiration of his dexterity.
On leaving the house, however, Mr. Brown expostu-
lated with him on the indefensibility of practising so
boldly on the simplicity of an unsuspecting family,
and of misleading their conceptions as to the cure of
the distemper, by a stratagem, on which, however
witty, neither of them could congratulate themselves."

The impulse of the moment seems to have been
at all times irresistible with Fergusson, without any
dread or consideration of the consequences which
his levity might produce. His voice being good, he
was requested, oftener than was agreeable to him,
to officiate as precentor at prayers. His wicked wit
suggested a method of getting rid of the distasteful
employment, which he did not scruple to put in prac-
tice, though there was great danger that it would
incense the heads of the college against him. It is
customary in the Scottish churches for persons who
are considered to be in a dangerous state of illness
to request the prayers of the congregation, which it
is the duty of the precentor publicly to intimate.
One morning when Fergusson occupied the desk,
he rose up, and, with the solemnity of tone usual
upon such occasions, pronounced — "Remember in

prayer, , a young man (then present) of

whom, from the sudden effects of inebriety, there ap-
pears but small hope of recovery."

A proceeding so indecorous could not but be
frowned upon by the professors; and another inci-
dent, which it was still less in their power to over-
look, soon occurred. The circumstances attending
the expulsion of the poet from the university have
occasioned some controversy, and we therefore deem
it best to give the account drawn up in 1801 by Dr.
Hill, and attested by Professor Vilant, who was
unable from sickness to do more at that time than
affix his name to it. "Mr. Nicholas Vilant," says
this document, "professor of mathematics, the only
person now in the university who was then a mem-
ber of it, declares, that in the year 1767, as he re-
collects, at the first institution of the prizes given by
the Earl of Kinnoul, late chancellor of this univer-
sity, there was a meeting one night, after the deter-
mination of the prizes for that year, of the winners
in one room of the united college, and a meeting of
the losers in another room at a small distance; that,
in consequence of some communication between the
winners and the losers, a scufile arose, which was
reported to the masters of the college, and that
Robert Fergusson and some others who had appeared
the most active were expelled; but that the next
day, or the day thereafter, they were all received
back into the college upon promises of good behav-
iour for the future." Dr. Wilkie's intercessions were
exerted on this occasion in behalf of the poet; nor
are we to suppose that the cordial co-operation of
others was wanting, for Mr. Inverarity assures us
that in Mr. Vilant, Fergusson had found a friend
and judicious director of his studies. On the whole,
this transaction affords a proof that Fergusson, what-
ever might be his indiscretions, had not, by refrac-
tory or disrespectful conduct, rendered himself ob-
noxious to the heads of the university, since, had
that been the case, it is to be presumed they would
have availed themselves of this infraction of aca-
demical discipline to make good his expulsion. If,
therefore, the first aspirations of his muse were em-
ployed in satirical effusions against his instructors,
it must have been with an absence of all bitterness,
and in a vein of pleasantry which was not meant to
be, and did not prove, offensive.

Of the progress made by Fergusson in his studies

i6

ROBERT FERGUSSON.

wc have no means of forming a very exact estimate.
"He performed," says Dr. Irving, "with a sufficient
share of applause, the various exercises which the
rules of his college prescribed. " '\'ct it is acknow-
ledged that he found more pleasure in the active
sports of youth, and in social enjoyment, than in
habits of recluse study. His time, however, does
not seem to have been spent without some plans of
more serious application. A book which belonged
to him, entitled A Dc-fence of the Church Goz'eriiinent,
Faith, Heirship, and Spirit of the Presbyterians, is pre-
served; the blank leaves of this volume were de-
voted by him to the somewhat incongruous purpose
of receiving scraps of speeches, evidently the germs
of a play which he meditated writing. Another
dramatic scheme of his assumed a more decided
shape; he finished two acts of a tragedy, founded on
the achievements and fate of Sir William Wallace,
but abandoned the undertaking, having seen another
play on the same subject, and being afraid that his
own might be considered a plagiarism. Probably
both productions were of a commonplace descrip-
tion; and the poet, perceiving the flatness of that
of which he was not the author, and conscious of the
similarity of his own, relinquished an undertaking to
which his abilities certainly were not equal. It has
been observed, that the choice of the subject affords
an evidence of Fergusson's judgment; inasmuch as
the fate of the illustrious Scottish hero, together with
his disinterested patriotism and braver)', supply a
much more eligible theme for the tragical muse, than
the deaths of Macbeth, Richard III., Pizarro, or any
other tyrant of ancient or modern times, whose ca-
tastrophes, being nothing more than the vengeance
due to their crimes, cannot e.xcite those sympathetic
feelings that arise only from the contemplation of
suffering virtue. This would be very justly said
if it were true that the success of a dramatic author
depends upon his enlisting the approbation of the
audience in behalf of his hero. But the case is
widely different. A view of human nature under
the influence of some powerful emotion, with which
mankind in general are not familiar, seems to be
what is mainly required. All men are not acquainted
with the workings of an ambitious and wicked heart;
and hence, when the tyrant is exhibited before them,
they learn something that is new and surprising, and
the skill of the poet meets with its proportionate
meed of applause. But there are few, indeed, who
have not considered from their youth up the char-
acter of a great patriot like Wallace; their admira-
tion and pity have been bestowed upon him from
their tenderest years, and there is nothing left for
poetry to effect. Nor was the genius of Fergusson
fitted for the delineation of a majestic character.
He had a fund of humour, an agreeable gaiety, but
not much reach of passion or of feeling. In his Eng-
lish blank verses there is no stately flow nor eleva-
tion of sentiment. His mind, moreover, did not
possess strength sufficient to accom]jlish more than
can be done in a series of occasional verses; he had
not as much resolution to carry him through the
succession of efforts necessary for the completion of
a dramatic poem; and, on the whole, we see no occa-
sion either for surprise or regret that he never per-
fected his third act.

What were the reasons for Fergusson abandoning
his academical career is nowhere mentioned. Pro-
bably he had no great heart for the profession to
which he had been destined, and was prevented by
want of pecuniary means from pursuing his studies
with a view to any other. When the term of his
bursary expired, which was at the end of four years,
he quitted St. Andrews, and returned to Edinburgh,

to his mother's house, his father having died two '
years before. Here, if his prospects were not gloomy,
his plans were unsettled, and never took any decided
aim for his settlement in life. The profession of a
teacher has been resorted to by many who have
acquired some learning, but whose narrow circum-
stances did not allow them to aspire to more pleas-
ant and profitable employments; and, even after
qualifying themselves for superior offices, numbers
of young men, failing to obtain the reward of their
labours, fall back upon that humbler means of ob-
taining a subsistence. But for the patient duties of
a schoolmaster Fergusson's ardent temperament
completely disqualified him, and probably he never
thought of the alternative. The study of medicine
was suggested to him; but this was no less distaste-
ful, for to such vivid nervous excitement was he
liable, that he could not read the description of a
disease without imagining that his own frame felt
its symptoms.

After some time spent in vain hope that some
opening would present itself, he paid a visit to Mr.
John Forbes, a maternal uncle, near Aberdeen, who,
being in easy circumstances, was expected to do
something for his nephew. That gentleman, accord-
ing to the usual account, entertained him for some
time, hoping, perhaps, that after a reasonable stay,
such as the hospitality of an uncle's roof might war-
rant, he would take his leave and give him no farther
trouble. But time slipped on, and Fergusson still
continued his guest. At last the habiliments of the
dependent relative began to grow somewhat shabby,
and an intimation was conveyed to him that he was
no longer fit to appear at Mr. Forbes's table. The
indignant poet immediately retired to an ale-house
in the neighbourhood, where he penned a letter full
of resentment of the usage he had received. This
remonstrance produced some little efifect, for his
uncle sent him, by a messenger, a few shillings to
bear his charges to Edinburgh. He performed the
journey on foot, and returned to his mother's house
so worn out with fatigue, and ovenvhelmed with
mortification, that he fell into a serious illness. In
a few days his strength of body revived, and he re-
gained sufficient composure of mind to express his
vexation in a poem, entitled The Decay of Friendship,
and his grounds for philosophic resignation in another.
Against Repining at Fortune. These pieces exhibit
some fluency of versification, but do not breathe any
poetic fire. In the first he bewails the ingratitude
of man, and, according to ancient usage, determines
to resort to some solitary shore, there to disclose
his griefs to the murmuring surge, and teach the
hollow caverns to resound his woes. In the second k
he declares that he was able to contemplate the I
gorgeous vanity of state with a cool disdain, and J
after reasoning the matter on the inadequacy of wealth
to procure happiness, concludes that virtue is the
sacred source of permanent and heart-felt satisfaction
— a fact, the truth of which is so very generally ac-
knowledged, that the statement and elucidation of
it is no longer considered to constitute poetry.

The behaviour of Mr. Forbes in the matter just
related has been reprobated as ungenerous in the
extreme. But it seems questionable whether the
censure be merited in its full extent. Every man is,
no doubt, bound to assist his fellow-men, and more
particularly those who are connected with his own
family, or have other claims to his patronage, as far
as lies in his power. But it is difficult to fix the
limits to which his exertions ought, in any particular
case, to be carried. It may seem very clear to every
one at the present day that Fergusson was a man of
genius, and ought to have been promoted to some

ROBERT FERGUSSON.

17

office which might have conferred independence, at
the same time that it left him leisure for the cultiva-
tion of his literary talents. This was, however, by
no means so apparent at the period to which we refer,
nor perhaps at any future period during the poet's
lifetime. He presented himself in his uncle's house
an expectant of favour; but his expectations might
not, to any ordinary-minded person, appear very rea-
sonable. He was a young man that had addicted
himself to the profitless occupation of rhyming (who
could tell he was to render himself eminent by it?) ;
he could not submit his mind to common business,
and had aversions, that did not appear to rest on very
feasible foundations, to certain employments which
were proposed to him : and when we consider to
how close a scrutiny it is reasonable that those who
solicit patronage should be prepared to submit, it
does not seem wonderful that he should have been
regarded as a young man who was disposed to re-
main idle, and that his friends should have been dis-
couraged from using their influence in behalf of one
who did not seem willing to do what he could for
himself. We know few of the circumstances that
took place during Fergusson's residence with his
uncle, and it is unjust to deal out reproaches so much
at random.

Some time after his return to Edinburgh, Fergus-
son obtained employment as a copyist of legal papers,
in the office of the commissary clerk of Edinburgh;
a situation miserably inferior to his talents, but
which his straitened circumstances and his total want
of an aim in life compelled him to accept. With
the exception of some months devoted to similar
duties at the sheriff-clerk's office, he spent, in this
humble employment, the remainder of his brief and
unhappy life. The change from the one office to
the other seems to have been dictated purely by that
desire of an alternation of misery, which caused the
soldier who suffered under flagellation to cry first
"strike high," and then "strike low." Having ex-
perienced some trouble from the fretful temper of the
deputy commissary clerk, Mr. Abercromby, under
whom he performed his drudgery, he sought relief
in the other office ; but finding worse evils there in
the painful nature of the sheriff's duties as an enforcer
of executions, he speedily solicited re-admission to
his former place, and was glad to obtain it. It is
generally supposed that Fergusson's employment
involved the study of law, and that in that lay the
unpleasantness of his situation. But in reality, the
study of law, allowing it to be as dry as several of
Fergusson's biographers have represented it, and as
unsuitable as they have supposed to the mercurial
genius of a poet, would have been absolutely a daily
delight of the highest kind, compared to the monoto-
nous duties of perpetual transcription, which formed
in reality the extent of the poet's professional la-
bours.

This wretched drudgery, however, was relieved
in two ways. Fergusson, during the whole period
of his residence in Edinburgh as a clerk or copyist,
wrote more or less poetry almost every day. At the
same time he spent a part of almost every evening
in those convivial regalements with which the citizens
of Edinburgh of all classes were then accustomed to
solace themselves after the drudgery of the day.

The mind of the poet was partly directed to Eng-
lish classical models: he wrote pastorals and dia-
logues, in the manner of Pope, Shenstone, and
Somerville; but these are mere exhibitions of lan-
guage, totally uninspired by the least force or origi-
nality of ideas, and would now weary even the most
patient antiquary in the perusal. Fortunately he
also adventured upon the course lately left vacant by

VOL. 11.

Ramsay, and there found themes for which his genius
was better adapted. The humours and peculiarities
of social life in the ancient city of Edinburgh attracted
his attention, and became in his hands the materials
of various specimens of Scottish poetry, which far
surpassed the similar poems of Ramsay, and are but
little inferior to those of Burns. In his Lcith Races,
The Rising and Sitting of the Session, Caiiler Oysters,
and The King's Birth-Jay, there is a power of hum-
orous description which at once stamps him as a
poet of superior genius, even if the nervous sense of
his Braid Claith, Caulcr Jlater, and other poems
upon general subjects, and the homely grace of his
Farmer's Ingle, which describes in the most vivid
and genuine colours a scene worthy of the highest
effiarts of the muse, had not placed him still more
unequivocally in that rank. The language employed
by Fergusson is much more purely Scottish than
that of Bums, and he uses it with a readiness and
ease in the highest degree pleasing. He has not the
firm and vigorous tone of Burns, but more softness
and polish, such as might have been expected from
his gentler and perhaps more instructed mind. The
poet chiefly wrote these effusions for a periodical
work, entitled Ruddiman' s Weekly Magazine, where
they attracted a considerable share of public atten-
tion, not only in Edinburgh but throughout the
country.

The convivialities of Fergusson have been generally
described as bordering on excess, and as characteriz-
ing himself in particular, amidst a population gene-
rally sober. The real truth is, that the poor poet
indulged exactly in the same way, and in general to
the same extent, as other young men of that day.
The want of public amusements, the less general
taste for reading, and the limited accommodations
of private houses in those days, led partly to a
practice which, as already mentioned, prevailed
among all orders of people in Edinburgh of frequent-
ing taverns in the evening for the sake of relaxation
and exercise of the intellect. The favourite haunt of
Robert Fergusson, and many other persons of his
own standing, was Lucky Middlemass's tavern in the
Cowgate, which he celebrates in his poem on Caiiler
Oysters. One of the individuals who almost nightly
enjoyed his company there, communicated to the
present writer, in 1827, the following particulars re-
specting the extent and nature of their convivi-
alities : —

"The entertainment almost invariably consisted
of a few boards of raw oysters, porter, gin, and
occasionally a rizzared [dried] haddock, which was
neither more nor less than what formed the evening
enjoyments of most of the citizens of Edinburgh.
The best gin was then sold at about five shillings a
gallon, and accordingly the gill at Lucky Middle-
mass's cost only threepence. The whole debauch of
the young men seldom came to more than sixpence

or sevenpence. Mr. S distinctly recollects that

Fergusson always seemed unwilling to spend any
more. They generally met at eight o'clock, and
rose to depart at ten ; but Fergusson was sometimes
prevailed upon to outsit his friends, by other persons
who came in later, and, for the sake of his company,
entreated him to join them in further potations.
The humour of his conversation, which was in itself
the highest treat, frequently turned upon the odd
and obnoxious characters who then abounded in the
town. In the case, however, of the latter, he never
permitted his satire to become in the least rancorous.
He generally contented himself with conceiving
them in ludicrous or awkward situations, such, for
instance, as their going home .at night, and having
their clothes bleached by an impure ablution from

37

i8

ROBERT FERGUSSON.

the garrets — a very common occurrence at that time,
and the mention of which was sufficient to awaken
the sympathies of all present."

The personal appearance of the poet is thus de-
scribed by the same informant: — "In stature Fergus-
son was about five feet nine, slender and handsome.
His face never exhibited the least trace of red, but
was perfectly and uniformly pale, or rather yellow.
He had all the appearance of a person in delicate

health ; and Mr. S remembers that, at last, he

could not eat raw oysters, but was compelled by the
weakness of his stomach to ask for them pickled.
His forehead was elevated, and his whole countenance
open and pleasing. He wore his own fair brown
hair, with a long massive curl along each side of the
head, and terminating in a queue, dressed with a
black silk riband. His dress was never very good,
but often much faded, and the white thread stockings
■which he generally wore in preference to the more
common kind of gray worsted, he often permitted
to become considerably soiled before changing them."

The following anecdote has been related for the
purpose of showing the irksomeness of the poet
under his usual avocations. In copying out the
extract of a deed, one forenoon, he blundered it two
different times, and was at length obliged to abandon
the task without completing it. On returning in
the evening he found that the extract had been
much wanted, and he accordingly sat down with
great reluctance to attempt it a third time. He had
not, however, half accomplished his task, when he
cried out to his office companion that a thought had
just struck him, which he would instantly put into
verse, and carry to RudJiinaii^s Magazine (on the eve
of publication), but that he would instantly return and
complete the extract. He immediately scrawled
out the following stanza on one Thomas Lancashire,
who, after acting the gravedigger in Hamlet, and
other such characters, on the Edinburgh stage, had
set up a public-house, in which he died : —

"Alas, poor Tom! how oft, with merry heart,
Have we beheld thee play the sexton's part !
Each comic heart must now be grieved to see
The sexton's dreary part performed on thee."

On his return towards the office he called at the
shop of his friend Sommers, paintseller and glazier,
in the Parliament Close, where he found a boy read-
ing a poem on creation. This circumstance furnished
him with the point of another epigram, which he
immediately scribbled down, and left for Mr. Som-
mers's perusal. These proceedings occupied him
about twenty minutes, and he then returned to his
drudgery.

Uniform tradition, and every other testimony,
ascribe to Fergusson an excellent voice, and a most
captivating manner of singing the simple melodies
of his native country. His Birks of Invermay long
survived in the recollection of his associates as a
musical gem of the first lustre. The following anec-
dote, communicated by his biographer Sommers, at
once proves his vocal powers and reflects a light
upon his character. "In one of his convivial frolics
he laid a wager with some of his associates that, if
they would furnish him with a certain number of
printed ballads (no matter what kind), he would
undertake to dispose of them as a street singer in the
course of two hours. The bet was laid, and next
evening, being in the month of November, a large
bundle of ballads were procured for him. He
wrapped himself in a shabby greatcoat, put on an
old scratch wig, and in this disguised form commenced
his adventure at the weigh-house, head of the West
]5ow. In his going, down the Lawnmarket and
High Street, he had the address to collect great

multitudes around him, while he amused them with
a variety of favourite Scottish songs, by no means
such as he had ballads for, and gained the wager by
disposing of the whole collection. He waited on
his companions by eight o'clock that evening, and
spent with them in mirthful glee the produce of his
street adventure."

Fergusson's disposition led him into many frolics;
of which the following instances are recounted. His
landlord happened to be a man very much given to
intemperance, at the same time that he aspired to
all the honours of a saint. One night he attempted
to perform family worship in a state of complete in-
toxication, when, to his inconceivable horror, every
sentence of his prayer was echoed Ijy some unseen
being at no great distance. Confounded with drunken
terror, he ordered his family to retire, and tak aiua
the bulks. It was Fergusson who thus alarmed him
from a neighbouring closet. Afterwards the poor
man gave his family an impressive lecture on the
necessity of their improving their ways, as he felt
certain that something serious was about to befall
them. He even unbosomed his own conscience to
the waggish cause of all his terrors, and received,
with marks of extreme contrition, the absolution
which Fergusson administered to him in considera-
tion of his repentance. On another occasion Fer-
gusson went, with some companions, to the door of
a similar zealot, and began to whine forth a psalm in
burlesque of the hypocritical habits (as he considered
them) of those within. With even less justifiable
thoughtlessness, he once threw into the open window
of a Glassite meeting-house a paper, on which he
had inscribed some lines in imitation of the manner
in which they were pleased to perform their devotions.
A more innocent frolic was as follows: having procured
a sailor's dress, he dressed himself in it, assumed a
huge stick, and sallying out, paid a round of visits to
his acquaintances. He was so effectually disguised
that few or none of them knew him; and by throwing
forth hints of some of their former indiscretions, he
so much surprised them that they imputed his know-
ledge to divination. By this means he procured from
many of them such a fund of information as enabled
him to give them a greater surprise when he resumed
the genuine character of Robby Fergusson. For in
the sailor's habit he informed them of many frailties
and failings, which they imagined it impossible for
any one of his appearance to know ; and in the
habit of Robby Fergusson he divulged many things
which they believed none but the ragged sailor was
acquainted with. Fergusson's power of mimicry
was indeed admirable, and he displayed a consider-
able turn for acting in general. Towards the end
of his life he was the very life and soul of a particu-
lar spouting club to which he attached himself.

In the circle of his acquaintance, though it ex-
tended through nearly all ranks of society, he had
few more respectable friends than Mr. Woods, a
distinguished player long established in Edinburgh.
Woods was a man of w-it, taste, and good sense, to
which good qualities he added a prudence of con-
duct, in which it is to be wished that the poet had
uniformly imitated him. Through the influence of
Mr. Woods, and in consideration perhaps of occa-
sional poetical ser\'ices, he enjoyed a free admission
to the theatre, of which he took not unfrequent
advantage. To quote a memorandum which has
been supplied to us on this subject : — "He always
sat in the central box, denominated the Shakspeare
box ; and his mode of expressing approbation in
comic performances was very singular. Instead of
clapping his hands, or using any exclamations, he
used to show how much he was delighted by raising

ROBERT FERGUSSON.

19

liis riglit hand clenclied above his head, and bringing
it down emphatically on the front of the box, with
a sweeping blow."

His brotiier Henry, who was eight years older
than himself, had before this period been obliged by
some youthful indiscretions to go to sea. Henry
was a youth of considerable acquirements and in-
genuity, and in particular had an extraordinary taste
for fencing. Some letters are extant which the
young sailor addressed to his mother and brother,
and they certainly display powers of mind and habits
of reflection which, if discovered on shipboard, must
have astonished his superiors. Apparently quite
tired of the hopeless drudgery of his office, and per-
haps impelled by more pressing considerations,
Robert Fergusson at one time contemplated the
course of life now pursued by his brother, the wild
dangers of which might harve some charm to a poet's
breast. He thus humorously alludes to his design
in an epigram: —

" Fortune and Bob, e'er since his birth,
Could never yet agree;
She fairly kicked him from the earth.
To try his fate at sea."

He was not destined, however, to execute this resolu-
tion.

In 1773 Fergusson's poems were collected from
the IFcv/c/}' Magazine into one volume; but it does
not appear that the poet reaped any pecuniary benefit
from the publication. It is probable, indeed, that
this admired son of genius never realized a single
shilling by his writings.

For a brief number of years Fergusson led the
aimless life which we have endeavoured to describe,
obtaining the means of a scanty subsistence by a ser-
vile and unworthy drudgery, and cheering his leisure
moments with mingled intellectual exertion and con-
vivial dissipation. To many persons he was recom-
mended by his fascinating conversation, his modesty,
and his gentle and affectionate character. Of these,
however, with but one exception, there were none
who either felt called upon, or had it in their power,
to advance his worldly fortunes. That exception
was a Mr. Burnet, who, becoming much attached to
the poet at Edinburgh, was afterwards enabled to
send him a draught for a hundred pounds from
India, with an invitation to come thither, in order
to experience still more solid and lasting proofs of
his friendship. Even of this single ray of kindness
from his fellowmen the poor poet was destined to
reap no advantage, being dead before the money and
the invitation arrived. The unhappy youth con-
tinued, so long as his mind was sensible of anything,
to feel that, with powers which elevated him above
most of his fellows, and were likely to make him be
remembered when all of them were forgotten, he yet
ate every day a bitterer and a scantier meal, and
moiled on and on in hopeless poverty, at once the
instrument and the victim of their pleasures.

Early in the year 1774, when his frame was pe-
culiarly exposed by the effects of a certain medicine
to cold, he was induced to accompany some gentle-
men, who were interested in an election business, to
one of the eastern counties of Scotland. It is no
imcommon thing for cold, contracted under such
circumstances, to produce mental derangement; and
such was the melancholy destiny of Fergusson ! Be-
ing involved in the riotous scenes of the election,
he easily caught the baneful distemper, the effects
of which were quite as much mental as physical.
While in this disordered state he happened one day
to wander into the churchyard, where he was soon
after accosted by the venerable John Brown, author

of many well-known works in divinity, and who
exercised the humble but respectable functions of a
dissenting clergyman in the town. After a few
trivial remarks had passed between them, Mr. Brown
was led by the nature of the scene to advert to the
mortality of man, observing that in a short time they
would soon be laid in the dust, and that therefore it
was wise to prepare for eternity. To Mr. Brown
the conversation seemed the most casual and unim-
portant that could well be. But such were not its
effects. In the present state of the poet's mind his
early religious impressions were fast reviving, and
while the penalties of folly wrung his nerves, his
thoughts wandered back over his misspent and un-
prosperous life. Upon a mind so prepared the acci-
dental remarks of the divine (who did not even know
who he was) sunk as deep as if they had been im-
printed in characters of fire. He returned home an
altered and despairing man.

One of his intimate friends, who met him in
March, 1774, a short time after this event, found
him somewhat tranquillized, but still in a very pre-
carious state. The poor bard gave an account of the
excesses which had lately produced such dreadful
effects, and spoke with terror of what would be
unavoidable in the event of a relapse — confinement
in the common asylum for insane persons. He also
introduced the subject of religion, and conversed
with much earnestness on some of its fundamental
doctrines. " Upon a particular occasion, which he
specified, he said a Mr. Ferrier, at or near St. An-
drews, had alarmed and rather displeased him by
maintaining what are usually denominated the ortho-
dox tenets of our Scottish creeds : and Fergusson
appeared to differ, in a very considerable degree,
from the commonly received notions on these sub-
jects. He did not seem to be satisfied of the ne-
cessity of the fall of man, and of a mediatorial sac-
rifice for human iniquity; and he questioned, with
considerable boldness, the consistency of such doc-
trines with the attributes of divine wisdom and good-
ness. At the same time, however, he confessed the
imperfect nature of the human intellect, and the un-
fathomable depth of all such inquiries. This is the
only gleam of infidelity which ever seems to have
diminished the fearful gloom of superstitious terror:
no consoling rays of genuine religion charmed his
bosom; no sounds of peace gladdened his heart, and
enabled him to sustain, with fortitude and calmness,
the sorrows which oppressed him. He anticipated
' the last peal of the thunder of heaven ' as the voice
of eternal vengeance speaking in wrath, and con-
signing him to irremediable perdition."'

After having partially recovered from his disorder,
his mind is said to have received another shock from
the following incident : —

"In the room adjoining to tliat in which he slept
was a starling, which being seized one night by a cat
that had found its way down the chimney, awakened
Mr. Fergusson by the most alarming screams.
Having learned the cause of the alarm, he began
seriously to reflect how often he, an accountable
and immortal being, had in the hour of intemperance
set death at defiance, though it was thus terrible, in
reality, to an unaccountable and sinless creature.
This brought to his recollection the conversation of
the clergyman, which, aided by the solemnity of
midnight, wrought his mind up to a pitch of remorse
that almost bordered on frantic despair. Sleep now
forsook his eyelids; and he rose in the morning, not
as he had formerly done, to mix again with the

1 VcicrVm's Li/e 0/ Fergitsson, prefixed to London edition

of his poems, 1807.

20

ROBERT FERGUSSON.

social and the gay, but to be a recluse from society,
and to allow the remembrance of his past follies to
prey upon his vitals. All his vivacity now forsook
him; those lips which were formed to give delight
were closed as by the hand of death, and on his
countenance sat horror plumed!"'

It is probably to this period that we are to refer
two anecdotes which have been related as giving
the first proofs of a decided cra2e in his understand-
ing. Mr. Tennant, in an article which has been
already quoted, says: — "It is difficult, even in sane
persons, to determine where wit ends and temporary
reeling of the imagination begins; and in the case of
Fergusson, whose conceptions were ever so vivid,
and whose wit was so fantastical and irregular, it
was difficult for his friends to discriminate between
his wit and his madness — to set a boundary-line be-
tween those of his days that were but frolicsome and
funny, and those that were desperately and invariably
delirious. The first occurrence that startled his
comrades, and put them in alarm for the safety of
his understanding, took place one day in the High

Street of Edinburgh, when Mr. B , one of his

friends (who, I believe, is still alive), was standing
engaged in conversation with a knot of acquain-
tances. Fergusson came running up, apparently in
a state of high perturbation ; and, accosting them
familiarly, as he was wont, acquainted them that,
confused and perturbed as he was, it was a mar\-el
that they saw him alive that day at all. On ques-
tioning him, with a desire that he should explain
himself, he informed them that on the night before
he had met with some Irish students in the street,
with whom he had an altercation that led to a
quarrel; that they scuffled and buffeted each other
furiously ; that the combat deepened to deadly
ferocity, when one of them, the bloodiest homicide
of the troop, at last drew out a cutlass, with which
he smote off his head at one blow; that his head
ran down the strand trembling and streaming blood
for many paces; that had it not been for his presence
of mind he must infallibly have been a dead man ;
but that, running instantly after the head, decapitated
as he was, he snatched it up, and replaced it so
nicely on its former position, that the parts coalesced,
and no man could discover any vestiges of decapita-
tion. This story was told with such wild looks and
extravagant gesticulation as impressed the hearers
with the suspicion that his mind had shifted from its
wonted 'form and pressure;' a suspicion that was
afterwards fully confirmed by other more decided
and unfortunate indications."

The other anecdote, which indicates a more ad-
vanced stage of insanity, is as follows: — Mr. Woods,
of the Theatre Royal, one day met him at the bottom
of St. Anne Street, under the North Bridge (a street
which does not now exist), and found him in a very
disordered state. "I have just," said Fergusson in
a confidential tone, "made a most important dis-
covery." On Mr. Woods inquiring what it was, he
answered, "I have found out one of the reprobates
who crucified our Saviour; and in order to bring
him to proper punishment I am going to lodge an
information against him with Lord Kames." He
then walked off towards the residence of that dis-
tinguished philosopher and judge.

Even from this second shock his reason was be-
ginning to recover, when all was thrown into tenfold
disorder by a fall which he met with one evening in
descending a stair. Having cut his head severely,
he lost a great deal of blood, and was carried home

' y^^^^y ^''■- loi'erarity, in Gleig's Supplement to t/te En-
cj/clopaata Britannka.

to his mother's house in a state of delirium, and
totally insensible of his deplorable condition. His
reason seemed to be now in a great measure de-
stroyed. He passed nights and days in total abstin-
ence from food, sometimes muttering dolefully to
himself, and at other times so outrageous that it
required the strength of several men to keep him in
his bed. Occasionally he sang his favourite melodies,
but in a style of pathos and tenderness such as he
had never before reached. In particular, he chanted
The Birks of Invermay with such exquisite melody,
that those who heard his notes could never forget the
sound. While in this state, probably anticipating
that miserable catastrophe which soon after happened,
he burned all his manuscripts, remarking, when the
task was done, "I am satisfied; I feel some consola-
tion in never having written anything against re-
ligion." Like Collins hfe now used but one book,
but he probably felt, with that unfortunate bard,
"that it was the best." It is needless to mention
that this sole companion of his moody hours was the
Bible.

The circumstances of his widowed mother were
not, unfortunately, of such a kind as to enable her to
keep her son, and procure for him the attendance
necessar)' for his malady in her own house. She
was, therefore, compelled to make arrangements for
consigning him to a very ■wretched public asylum,
which, before the erection of an elegant building at
Momingside, was the only place in connection with
the Scottish capital where such accommodations
could be obtained. This house was situated within
a gloomy nook of the old city wall, with another large
building closing it up in front, as if it had been
thought necessary to select for the insane a scene as
sombre and wretched as their own mental condition.
To this horrid mansion it was found necessary to con-
vey Fergusson by a kind of stratagem, for he was too
well aware of what was contemplated, and too much
alive to the horrors of the place, to have either gone
willingly himself, or to have been conveyed thither
w^ithout some indecent exposure. Two friends, there-
fore, were instructed to pay him a visit about night-
fall, as if for the purpose of inquiring after his wel-
fare. He met them with easy confidence, and after
some conversation, in which he took part like a sane
man, they proposed that he should accompany them
on a visit to a friend at another part of the town.
To this he cheerfully consented, and was accordingly
placed in a sedan which they had in readiness at the
bottom of the stair. The unhappy youth then per-
mitted himself to be conveyed peaceably along the
streets till he arrived at the place which he had all
along feared would be his final abode. The chair
was conveyed into the hall, and it was only when
Fergusson stepped out that he perceived the decep-
tion which had been practised upon him. One wild
halloo — the heart-burst of despair — broke from him,
and was immediately echoed from the tenants of the
surrounding cells. Thrilled with horror, his friends
departed, and left the wretched Fergusson to his
fate.

"During the first night of his confinement," says
Mr. Sommers, "he slept none; and when the keeper
visited him in the morning, he found him walking
along the stone floor of his cell, with his arms folded,
and in sullen sadness, uttering not a word. After
some minutes' silence, he clapped his right hand on
his forehead, and complained much of pain. He
asked the keeper who brought him there? He
answered, 'Friends.' 'Yes, friends, indeed,' re-
plied Robert; 'they think I am too wicked to live,
but you will soon see me a burning arid a shining
light' 'Vou have been so already,' observed the

ROBERT FERGUSSON.

keeper, alluding to his poems. 'You mistake me,'
said the poet: 'I mean, you shall see and hear of
me as a bright minister of the gospel.'"

P'ergusson continued about two months to occupy
a cell in this gloomy mansion. Occasionally, when
the comparative tramjuiliity of his mind permitted it,
his friends were allowed to visit him. A few days
before his dissolution his mother and sister found
him lying on his straw bed calm and collected. The
evening was chill and damp: he requested his mother
to gather the bed-clothes about him, and sit on his
feet, for he said they were so very cold as to be
almost insensible to the touch. She did so, and his
sister took her seat by the bedside. lie then looked
wistfully in the face of his affectionate parent, and
said, "Oh, mother, this is kind indeed." Then ad-
dressing his sister, he said, "Might you not come
frequently and sit beside me; you cannot imagine
how comfortable it would be; you might fetch your
seam, and sew beside me." To this no answer was
returned: an interval of silence was filled up by sobs
and tears. "What ails ye?" inquired the dying poet;
"wherefore sorrow for me, sirs? I am very well
cared for here — I do assure you, I want for nothing
— but it is cold — it is very cold. You know I told
you it would come to this at last — yes, I told you so.
Oh, do not go yet, mother — I hope to be soon — oh,
do not go yet — do not leave me!" The keeper,
however, whispered that it was time to depart, and
this was the last time that Fergusson saw these
beloved relatives.

Mr. Sommers thus describes his last interview with
the poet, which took place in company with Dr.
John Aitken, another friend of the unfortunate
maniac: — "We.got immediate access to the cell, and
found Robert lying with his clothes on, stretched
upon a bed of loose uncovered straw. The moment
he heard my voice he arose, got me in his arms, and
wept. The doctor felt his pulse, and declared it to
be favourable. I asked the keeper to allow him to
accompany us into an adjoining back-court, by way
of taking the air. He consented. Robert took hold
of me by the arm, placing me on his right, and the
doctor on his left, and in this form we walked back-
ward and forward along the court, conversing for
nearly an hour, in the course of which many ques-
tions were asked both by the doctor and myself, to
which he returned most satisfactory answers; but he
seemed very anxious to obtain his liberty. Having
passed two hours with him on this visit, we found it
necessary to take our leave, the doctor assuring him
that he would soon be restored to his friends, and
that I would visit him again in a day or two. He
calmly and without a murmur walked with us to the
cell, and, upon parting, reminded the doctor of his
promise to get him soon at liberty, and of mine to
see him next day. Neither of us, however, had an
opportunity of accomplishing our promise, for in a
few days thereafter I received an intimation from the
keeper that Robert Fergusson had breathed his last."
Before this period Mrs. Fergusson had been en-
abled, by a remittance from her son Henry, to make
some preparations for receiving the poor maniac back
into her own house, where superior accommodations,
and the tenderness of a mother's and a sister's love,
might have been expected to produce some favourable
effect. But it came too late : misery had already
secured her victim. "In the solitude of his cell,"
says Mr. Peterkin, "amid the terrors of the night,
'without a hand to help or an eye to pity,' the poet
expired. His dying couch was a mat of straw; the
last sounds that pealed upon his ear were the bowl-
ings of insanity. No tongue whispered peace; and
even a consoling tear of sympathy mingled not with

those of contrition and hope, which, in charity I
trust, illumined his closing eye."

Robert Fergusson died on the iGtli of October,
1774, aged one day less than twenty-four years. His
body was interred in the Canongatc Churchyard,
where his grave remained quite undistinguished, until
his successor, and (as he was pleased to acknowledge)
his imitator, Robert Burns, appeared in Edinburgh.
WHen Burns came to the grave of Fergusson he
uncovered his head, and, with his characteristic en-
thusiasm, kneeling down, embraced the venerated
clay. He afterwards ol)tained permission from the
magistrates to erect a monument to Fergusson, which
he inscribed with the following stanza : — •

"No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay,
' No storied urn, nor animated bust;'
This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way
To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust."

On the reverse of the monument, which is literally
a "simple stone," is the following honourable inscrip-
tion: "By special grant of the managers to Robert
Burns, who erected this stone, this burial-place is
ever to remain sacred to the memory of Robert Fer-
gusson." In more than one of his effusions in prose
and poetry the Ayrshire poet has bewailed the fate
of Fergusson; but perhaps the following little elegy,
which he inscribed on a copy of the works of that
poet which he presented to a young lady (March 19,
1787), is less generally known than the rest : —

' ' Curse on ungrateful man, that can be pleased
And yet can starve the author of his pleasure!
Oh thou, my elder brother in misfortune,
By far my elder brother in the muses,
With tears I pity thy unhappy fate!
Why is the bard unfitted for the world,
Yet has so keen a relish of its pleasures!"

Whatever may be thought of the philosophy of this
stanza, its feeling has an irresistible appeal.

The external appearance of Fergusson, so far as
it is left undelineated in the sketch already quoted,
was as follows:' His countenance was somewhat
effeminate, but redeemed by the animation imparted
to it by his large black eyes. Mingled with the
penetrative glance of an acute and active mind was
that modesty which gives to superior intellect its
greatest charm. Unfortunately there is no authentic
portrait in existence, though it may be worth while
to mention that his grand-niece, the late Miss Inver-
arity, the actress, bore so strong a resemblance to
him as to have struck the mind of an individual who
remembered the appearance of Fergusson, and who
had learned neither the name of the young lady nor
her relation to the poet. Fergusson's manners were
always accommodated to the moment: he was gay,
serious, set the table in a roar, charmed with his
powers of song, or bore with becoming dignity his
part in learned or philosophical disquisition. "In
short, he had united in him," says Mr. Alexander
Campbell, "the sprightliness and innocence of a
child, with the knowledge of a profound and judicious
thinker." "Gentleness and humanity of disposition,"
says Dr. Irving, "he possessed in an eminent degree.
The impulse of benevolence frequently led him to
bestow his last farthing on those who solicited his
charity. His surviving relations retain a pleasing
remembrance of his dutiful behaviour towards his
parents; and the tender regard with which his memory
is still cherished by his numerous acquaintance fully
demonstrates his value as a friend." It may be
added that, to this day, there prevails but one uni-
versal impression in favour of Fergusson. Cut off in

> According to another individual who recollects seeing him,
"he was very smally and delicate, a little in-kneed, and
■waigkd a good deal in walking."

JAMES FREDERICK FERRIER.

the preenest of his clays, he still lives in the feeling
of the world exactly what he really was in life — a
gentle and youthful being, of whom no one could
think any ill, and who was the friend and brother of
everybody.

FERRIER, James Frkdf.rick, professor of
morals and political economy in the university of
St. Andrews. This profound metaphysician and elo-
quent writer in general literature, was born at Kdin-
burgh in November, iSoS. He was the nephew
of Miss Ferrier, the talented and popular authoress
of Murriiis^cr and 7'/ie Inheritance, of whom a memoir
will appear in our pages. He became a student in
the university of Edinburgh when a new impulse had
been given to the study of ethics and metaphysics
by Dugald Stewart and Professor Brown, which was
continued by the enthusiastic eloquence of John
Wilson, afterwards the father-in-law of Ferrier — and
under such influences, an acute active mind could
scarcely be idle or undistinguished. Accordingly,
in the class of moral philosophy James Ferrier dis-
])layed those intellectual powers which augured well
for his future career; and a class poem which he
produced during that year carried off the prize, and
was long after remembered for its superiority to such
class productions as have been successful in a gene-
ral competition. This acknowledged superiority,
so often the close of a student's career, was with
Ferrier only the starting-point, and from the univer-
sity of Edinburgh he passed to that of Oxford, where
his studies were alternated with classics and philo-
sophy until the latter secured his undivided attention,
but not until he had become a ripe classical scholar.
There also he graduated in arts, and passed the usual
examinations with distinction. Desirous to enlarge
his knowledge in general learning and metaphysics,
he afterwards became a student in one of the German
universities, and the mastery of the German language
which he there acquired enabled him to advance into
those profound speculations which as yet were little
known in the colleges of Britain. The literature of
Germany, and especially its poetry, occupied much
of his study; and from his knowledge in this depart-
ment, as well as his acquaintance with the niceties of
the German language, he was enabled to aid the
studies of those who were employed in a similar
field. In this way he was of such service in inter-
preting the poetry of Goethe and Schiller, that Sir
iiuKver Lytton in his translation of the latter poet
dedicated the publication to Ferrier.

In 1832 James Ferrier was admitted to the Scot-
tish bar. With a person of such a cast of mind, and
so educated, the dry study of the law and oratory
of the bar could have little congeniality, and his
choice of such a profession might excite our wonder
mixed with not a little astonishment. That he had
no purpose, however, to involve himself in the occu-
pations of a Scottish advocate, was evitlent from his
neither attaining nor yet seeking such distinction.
The charms of literature and peaceful contemplation
had more attractions for him than the active stir of
litigation and the prospect of a silk gown, while
BlackwooJ^s ]\Iagazine supplied a sufficient outlet
for his first attemiUs in authorship. Aiul to the
pages of this distinguished periodical, now at the
height of its reputation, the contributions of Ferrier
were always welcome; for besides his Tory principles,
he wrote with a vigour, eloquence, wit, and learning
that recalled to memory the early articles of Wilson,
Lockhart, and other distinguished founders of the
magazine. For a series of years his contributions
were continued; and wliile they were remarkable for
their freshness of style and originality of thought,

they excited the attention of the reflective, among
other subjects, to the Berkleian jihilosophy, and the
cITects of German thought upon the writings of Cole-
ritlge.

With all this acknowledged excellence, Ferrier
was worthy of a more permanent field of action,
and this was opened to him in 1845 ^ly his appoint-
ment to the professorship of moral philosophy and
political economy in the university of St. Andrews.
Into this important charge he brought an earnestness
and eloquence, and an amount of scholarship not
often exhibited in the chairs of that ancient seat of
learning; and their effect was shown in the new in-
tellectual impulse which he imparted to his students,
and the devotedness with which they loved their
distinguished teacher. The professorship of moral
philosophy in the university of Edinburgh having
become vacant by the retirement of John Wilson,
his father-in-law, Ferrier became a candidate for the
chair, but was unsuccessful. That the failure, how-
ever, was owing to no lack of qualification for the
office was proved two years afterwards, when he
published his Theory 0/ A'tiincntig and Being, a work
of great power, but upon a doubtful and debatable
subject. His attempts to solve the great metaphy-
sical problem, of course, found as many opponents
as advocates, but all were at one in their opinion of
the originality and ingenuity of many of its accessory
ideas, and the brilliant eloquence with which the
work was pervaded. In 1854 he was again a com-
petitor for an Edinburgh chair, in consequence of the
death of Sir William Hamilton, by which the pro-
fessorship of logic and metaphysics was left vacant
in the university of the northern capital. Ferrier
was one of the candidates, the competition was a
keen one, and to a pamphlet written in favour of the
successful candidate he published a stinging answer,
under the title of Scottish Philosophy: the Old and the
N'ew. Once more defeated in his attempts to estab-
lish himself in the university of Edinburgh, Ferrier
resumed his duties in St. Andrews with undiminished
zeal and success, until his failing health warned him
that evening was at hand when his day was little
more than half ended. That mysterious and fatal
disease so prevalent in our own period, to which
people of ardent temperament and active brain are
so peculiarly subject — commonly called disease of
the heart — had manifested itself in repeated attacks
of angina pectoris, and so unfitted him for his public
duties, that he was obliged to devolve the charge
of his class into other hands. Recovery from such
a malady was hopeless, however the end might be
delayed, and he died at St. Andrews on the iith of
June, 1864.

To this brief account of Professor Ferrier we sub-
join a sketch of his character contained in a short
memoir inserted in the Edinburgh Evening Cow-ant,
from which the foregoing statements have been taken.
In a life otherwise so uneventful such a portrait is ne-
cessary, in order to sec him more effectually both in
his public and ]irivate relationships; and this, it is
hoped, will justify the length and fulness of the
quotation: —

"In jirivate life the professor added to those solid
([ualities which are universally resjiected, a pleasant-
ness and refinement of manner not always found in
the occupants of our Scottish chairs. The visitor
who entered his house at St. Andrews found there
not hospitality only, but a certain empresseinent of
politeness wdiich recalled the old school, and which
was so far from being stiff that it contributed by its
grace to the charm of his fresh and lively conversa-
tion. He was not a philosopher alone, but a man
of letters, and took an interest in the beautiful and

SUSAN EDMONSTON FERRIER.

23

the humorous — in poetry and anecdotes of life and
ciiaracter — as well as in those severer studies to which
he owed his fame. The worthy admirer of Berkeley
was also the worthy friend of SVilson ; and you felt
yourself, when with him in his social hour, connected
by a living link with those eminent Scotsmen of an
older day whose great attraction was that they were
learned without pedantry, and polished without
priggishness.

"His death leaves a vacancy in the front rank of
Scottish thinkers and men of letters which will not
easily be filled up. Beloved by all his students, en-
deared to a large circle of friends by his generous
character, his great accomplishments, his philoso-
phical power, and his stores of wit and humour,
Mr. Ferrier's death will be felt as another blank in
the brilliant group of literary men of whom Wilson
and Lockhart were the acknowledged chiefs, and
whose congenial organ ^^•as Blackwood's Magazine.
Tory as he was, he will leave few generous Scots-
men, of whatever party, unregretful of his premature
decease ; while scholars of whatever degree, and
philosophers of whatever school, will join in mourn-
ing the loss of one whose literary sympathies were
as wide as they were discriminating, and whose
philosophy perhaps fell short of conclusiveness by
its too ardent efforts after catholicity."

FEPvRIEE, Susan Edmonston. Of this highly
talented novelist, whose works created such a popu-
lar sensation in their favour, little is known beyond
the fact that she was the authoress of three highly
popular novels, and that their sterling merits have
secured for them a durability seldom accorded to
works of this nature. Miss Ferrier was born in
Edinburgh in 1 782, and was the aunt of the learned
professor whom we have previously recorded. Her
father, James Ferrier, a writer to the signet, was
one of the principal clerks of the Court of Session,
and colleague in that office of Sir Walter Scott. Of
the early years and educational training of Miss
Ferrier we have no account ; but the society of the
eminent literary characters with which Edinburgh
at that time abounded, and with whom her father
lived in daily intimacy, is enough to prove that
she had superior opportunities for the development
of her intellectual powers, while her writings show
that she had turned these opportunities to the best
account. The society of such men, and especially
of Sir W^alter Scott, could not be enjoyed by a
mind like that of our authoress without the im-
provement which mere reading would fail to impart;
and the result was such as Sir Walter himself has
recorded in his private diary. Speaking of Miss
Ferrier, he describes her as "a gifted personage,
having, besides her great talents, conversation the
least exigeante of any author, female at least, whom
I have ever seen, among the long list I have en-
countered; simple, full of humour, and exceedingly
ready at repartee; and all this without the least affec-
tation of the blue-stocking."

With all this intellectual vivacity and humour, and
great conversational powers. Miss Ferrier could
combine a tact which nothing but the most delicate
benevolence could inspire. Of this a striking instance
is given in Lockhart's Life of Sir Wa'lter Scott.
When the great poet and novelist was in the decline
both of his health and intellect, but still as eager for
intellectual work and as industrious as ever, it was
the aim of his family in his occasional visits to them
from the study, to render these visits as long and
frequent as possible, and for this purpose they invited
his friend Miss Ferrier to Abbotsford. "Her com-
ing," adds the biographer, "was serviceable; for she

knew and loved him well, and she had seen enough
of affliction akin to his to be well skilled in dealing
with it. She could not be an hour in his company
without observing what fdled his children with more
sorrow than all the rest of the case. He would begin
a story as gaily as ever, and go on, in spite of the
hesitation in his speech, to tell it with highly pic-
turesque effect; but before he reached the point, it
would seem as if some internal spring had given way:
he paused, and gazed round him with the blank
anxiety of look that a blind man has when he has
dropped his staff Unthinking friends sometimes
pained him sadly by giving him the catch-word
abruptly. I noticed the delicacy of Miss Ferrier on
such occasions. Her sight was bad, and she took
care not to use her glasses when he was speaking;
and she affected to be also troubled with deafness,
and would say, 'Well, I am getting as dull as a post;
I have not heard a word since you said so and so,'
being sure to mention a circumstance behind that at
which he had really halted. He then took up the
thread with his habitual smile of courtesy, as if for-
getting his case entirely in the consideration of the
lady's infirmity."

From these brief glimpses, which reveal Miss
Ferrier's character — and which so amiably reveal it
that we are compelled to regret that they are so few
— we pass to her literary productions. Her first
work, entitled Alarriage, was published in the year
1818, when she had attained the ripe age of thirty-
six, and therefore, although her first production, the
novel indicated a mind completely matured. As
such, J\Iarriage at once became popular, even al-
though the " Great Unknown" was in the field, and
occupying it without a rival; and the author of
Waverley sanctioned this public judgment with his
heartiest approbation. In the conclusion of his Tales
of My Landlord, he welcomed his "sister shadow,"
the author of ' ' the very lively work entitled Marriage,
as one of the labourers capable of gathering in the
large harvest of Scottish character and fiction." The
great merit of the work, indeed, and that which dis-
tinguished her subsequent productions, was the force
and fidelity of her Scottish portraits, in which depart-
ment none perhaps but Sir W^ alter himself was her
superior; and on this account her novels have still an
intrinsic charm which keeps them alive after so much
in the literary world of fiction has passed away. The
publishing of her first work was therefore the open-
ing of a picture-gallery, and the public who crowded
in could not sufficiently admire the life-like sketches
of Mrs. Violet Macshake, the grim, sarcastic, but
really affectionate lady of ninety, a glorious relic of
the old Scotch school, who pronounced everything
new a folly and an abomination — and Lady Mac-
lauchlan, shrewd, short, and snappish — and the three
old spinster sisters. Miss Jacky, Miss Grizzy, and
Miss Nicky — each having her separate originality,
but all tugging at the same oar. But while excelling
in female portraits, Miss Ferrier showed that she
could also hit off male characters with almost equal
power, whether by single touches or elaborate de-
scriptions, and produce a narrative by which her
readers would be spell-bound without going beyond
the limits of ever)--day life. Her next novel, The
Inheritatice, with equal originality, was of a still
more elaborate and finished description, and the
religious element with which it is mixed is so judi-
ciously introduced, as to throw an attractive sunshine
over the whole tale. While the Inha-itance also
dealt with a higher sphere of life, and more im-
portant objects than Marriage, the comic, in which
Miss Ferrier excelled, was not neglected; and her
descriptions of the pompous old earl, of Uncle

JAMES FILLANS.

Adam, and Miss Pratt, arc among the choicest of
her many delineations of the kind. Her last tale,
entitled Datiny; or, the Chiefs Daus;hUr, ajipeared
in 183I; but as the characters, incidents, manners,
and scenery are Hitjhiand, it does not possess the
same variety and attractiveness as her former works,
and this production was on the whole a failure.
After this she laid aside her pen, to the regret of
those whom her writings had so greatly charmed,
and retired into private life. Her death occurred
near the close of 1S54; but the particular date of it
we are unable to ascertain.

FILLANS, James. This excellent sculptor was
the s )n of John Thomson Fillans, who had served
as sailor in the Spiwiy under Lord Cochrane, but
after^vards found employment in the ironworks of
Carnwath. He was born at Wilsontown in Lanark-
shire, on the 27th of March, 1808, and was the
third but eldest surviving son of a family of thirteen
children. Inconsequence of his father's misfortunes
in trade, he was only a short time at school; but he
had already chosen his future occupation, and com-
menced a course of self- training for its work, so that
when a boy his chief delight was to mould the figures
of men and animals from no better material than
snow. From his eighth to his twelfth year, his regu-
lar occupation was to herd cattle at Busby in the
Mearns, where he had ample opportunity of study-
ing the beauty of nature; after which he removed
with the members of his family to Paisley, and was
there set to learn weaving as his future craft. In
spite, however, of his dull employment at the loom
— perhaps even invited by its dulness and monotony
— his artistic bias became more intense; and he be-
took himself to fashioning in clay, such models of
the animal form as astonished his companions, and
even excited the admiration of more critical judges.
While following this favourite bent, obstacles did
not deter him; and on one occasion, when he was
ambitious to model a helmet such as Sir William
Wallace was supposed to wear, he kneaded his clay
into proper ductility, and afterwards clapped it, for
•want of a block, upon his younger brother's head,
where it remained until he had fashioned it into the
likeness of a warlike and highly ornamented head-
piece.

As weaving was not congenial to such a spirit, he
quitted it in less than a twelvemonth, and with an
eye to the practice of sculpture and the use of its
tools, became apprentice to a stone-mason. lie had
now greater scope for the study of his favourite art,
and while he continued to execute models in clay
which were always advancing in improvement, his
range of ideas was enlarged, and his perception of
the grand and beautiful refined by reading works of
history and biography. As a workman, also, those
tasks were consigned to him which reqviircd a superior
exertion of professional skill. His ai^prenticeship
being finished while still in his minority, he con-
tinueil to work as a journeyman, and in Paisley and
Lireenock carvings are still pointed out which were
executed by his chisel. Over the door of a house at
Lanend, that was once a smithy, is the figure of a
horse which young Fillans copied from a living
animal in the neighl^ourhood; and with this spirited
figure the smith for whom it was made was so well
pleased, that he rewarded the artist with two pounds
for his trouble— the first professional fee which as
yet he had touched. In 1828, when he had reached
his twentieth year, Fillans was employed to carve
some of the ornamental parts of the Glasgow Royal
Exchange, then in the course of erection. The
splendid Corinthian capitals in the interior of the

building, which were especially his workmanship,
and his enthusiasm for Grecian art, were so con-
spicuous among his fellow-workmen, that they dubbed
him, as a mark of honourable distinction, with the
title of "\'oung Athens."

Although he had now acquired the character of a
first-rate mason, this was but a step to the oliject of
his ambition, and being encouraged by his friend
Motherwell, who at tiiis time was editor of the
Paisley Aiii'eriiser, Fillans set up his studio as a
statuary in the manufacturing town of Paisley, where
his productions soon became popular, and commis-
sions continued to flow upon him. Besides executing
the busts of some of the principal citizens, he pro-
duced several ideal figures in groups, the fame of
which quickly extended to Glasgow, and made its
citizens desirous of securing the services of the
young rising artist. In compliance with their invita-
tions, he removed to this great city of the west,
and opened his studio in Miller Street, where his
professional engagements were so numerous, that he
employed two of his brothers to assist in the mecha-
nical operations of his art. He was now a thriving
man; he had been married between two and three
years to the object of his warmest affections; and
everything seemed to promise that at last he had
found his right home, and would select it as his per-
manent abode. But nothing short of perfection as
a sculptor would satisfy him, and this could not be
effected without the instructions that could only be
obtained by travel. He accordingly commenced his
professional pilgrimage in October, 1835, and after
visiting Dublin and London, he arrived on the fol-
lowing month in Paris. After studying the master-
pieces contained in the Louvre, Fillans returned after
an absence of only three months, the shortness of
his tour being occasioned by scanty funds and the
exigencies of a growing family. He now resolved
to settle in London as the most congenial home for
an artist, and best mart for his productions, and in
the capital he accordingly established his residence,
first in South Bank, Regent's Park, and afterwards
in Baker Street, Portman Square. To bring him-
self into notice in the wide world of London, it was
necessary that his claims should be publicly exhibited,
and accordingly he had no fewer than seven busts in
marble in the exhibition of the Royal Academy in
Trafalgar Square. One of these was a likeness of
his friend Allan Cunningham, which not only excited
general attention, but obtained the approbation of
Chantrey himself Still, however, his principal
orders came from Scotland, among the chief of which
was a bust of Mr. Hastie, M.P. for Paisley; and
the model of a jug illustrative of the tale of Tatit
O' Shanter, in the style of Cellini. Other commis-
sions succeeded so numerously that his life was spent
alternately in London and Scotland, greatly to the
interruption of his professional studies, although such
calls were but the consequence of his acknowledged
excellence. He naturally exulted, however, in these
warm tokens of his increasing celebrity, while his
friends, who triumphed in his success, exclaimed,
"You have now the ball at your foot; keep it rolling !"
A bust of Richard Oswald, Esq., of Auchincruive,
which he was commissioned to execute, occasioned,
in 1841, his journey to Florence, where that gentle-
man resided. It was a delightful tour; it was also
a profitable one in an artistic point of view, as it af-
fortled him am])le leisure to study the rich collections
of art in the city of Florence. When the bust was
finished and brought home, his constituents, the
Oswald committee, were loud and unanimous in their
approbation; the local journals confirmed their suf-
frage; and when it was placed in the Assembly Rooms

\

JAMES FILLANS.

2S

of Ayr, it was universally acknowledged, that as a
work of art nothing equal to it had ever been seen in
that city.

Having been thus far so successful, Fillans did
not relapse into idleness, and allow the ball at his
foot to remain at rest; so that the various commis-
sions which he was engaged to execute kept him in
almost perpetual transition between England and
Scotland. Of the works he accomplished at this time,
nothing so highly excited the general applause as his
group of statuary entitled "The Blind Teaching the
Blind.'.' It was an original and poetical idea, while
the style of its execution was as happy as the concep-
tion. The followii>g account of it is from one of the
journals of the period: — -"Mr. Fillans has not only
the merit of being the first to depict the blind in this
interesting light, but he has done so in a manner
which seems to defy any attempt to surpass it. In-
deed, we cannot imagine the subject treated differ-
ently and so well. The group is exquisitely simple.
A young girl, with beautifully rounded features, is
sitting upon a low seat with the Scriptures in raised
letters open upon her knee, and her fingers resting
on the inspiretl words; while another female, some-
what older and taller, but still young, is kneeling by
her side, her head resting affectionately on that of
her pupil, and one hand gently touching her heart,
as if to impress the lesson upon her with greater
earnestness. The former is the principal figure, and
concentrates within itself the sentiment of the piece.
If it be the highest effort of art to depict, not the
mere outward forms of nature, but the invisible
essence of mind which surrounds these like a fra-
grance, Mr. Fillans has been eminently successful.
The whole figure of the learner is a visible embodi-
ment of the ideal. The acute sense of touch almost
apparent in the action of the hand, the half-parted
lips — nay, the very sightless orbs uplifted, not in
vain, to heaven, are instinct with awakening thoughts,
and indicative of a radiance within, which burns only
the more brightly from the daylight being quite shut
out. Indeed the darkness which veils her eyes
seems but the shadow of the illumined spirit en-
shrined in the perishable clay; and we can almost
fancy, as we gaze upon her sainted and beaming as-
pect, that her eyes are closed only that she may re-
ceive the words of truth through some diviner sense,
and, undisturbed by earthly visions, commune in
secret with the angels. The draping is simple and
appropriate, and the outline and general effect of the
grouping is sweet, expressive, and beautiful." To
this critique we may add the following incident, as
related by the artist's biographer: — "Two of the
best-looking inmates of the Blind Asylum .were se-
lected by Mr. Fillans to sit for the model. Delicate
as beautiful, neither of them seems to have been
capable of resisting those scourges of the sensitive
and lovely — consumption and small-pox. The one
died, and the other cannot now be recognized as one
of the originals in this divine group. A friend who
accompanied the sculptor to see the bust of Mr.
Alston, saw this girl under very interesting circum-
stances. She was walking with a companion in front
of the asylum, when Mr. Fillans asked if the gover-
ness was at home. Knowing his voice she sprang
towards him, throwing up her arms with an exclama-
tion of joy; but, instantly recollecting herself, stopped
short, hung down her head, and answered his ques-
tion in a subdued and tremulous voice. Nothing
could more forcibly illustrate the impression produced
on the mind of the blind and desolate girl at the
recollection of the kindness and affability of the
warm-hearted and generous sculptor, who seemed
much affected at the sight of her altered appear-

ance, and the death of her still more beautiful com-
panion."

In consequence of his high reputation, Fillans was
now the sculptor generally employed on the busts
and statues of eminent Scotsmen clcsigned as public
monuments. They are too numerous to particu-
larize, so tliat we can only mention the monument
at Beith to Captain Wilson, who fell in the Kyber
Pass, Afghanistan; the statue of Sir James Shaw for
Kilmarnock; and the bust of Professor Wilson for
the coffee-room of Paisley. Scotland had now be-
come proud of her favourite sculptor; public bodies
united in their admiration of his excellence; and two
public dinners were given in his honour; one at
Paisley, the other at Burns' cottage, Ayrshire, and
at both, the laudations heaped upon the artist, how-
ever ample, as post-prandial compliments are wont
to be, could only have been called forth by an ex-
traordinary amount of merit. Surely, then, he was
securing an ample fortune as the natural fruit of suth
public distinction ! But numerous and well-paid
though his productions were, he still continued to
be comparatively poor — and for this the nature of
his occupations will account. Although his home
was in London, his commissions for the greater part
came from Scotland, so that his constant journeys
thither were a serious drawback upon his funds. He
was also liberal perhaps to a fault, so that he be-
stowed not merely his money but also his art in
deeds of benevolence, giving statues or groups as
contributions to the funds of charitable institutions.
To add to his difficulties, an accident while employed
upon a scaffold at Glasgow, by which his knee was
sprained, laid him aside from work for a considerable
period. On his recovery and return to London, he
set himself in earnest to model a series of bas-reliefs
under the title of "Taming the Wild Horse," and to
represent the animal in its principal attitudes, and
the mode of its capture as practised in the pampas
of Southern America. The study of the horse was
new to him; but the citizens of Glasgow were already
talking of an equestrian statue to commemorate the
queen's visit to their city, and the friends of Fillans
were hopeful that he would be commissioned to
execute it. Upon this new attempt, therefore, he
laboured night and day in his studio in London;
and as the apartment was damp, it is believed that
there, and at this time, he laid the foundation of his
future ill health. When this splendid series of bas-
reliefs was finished, his next work was to model the
Flying Dutchman, a celebrated race-horse belonging
to the Earl of Eglinton. But the equestrian statue
for Glasgow was not consigned to his workmanship
after all, but to a foreign artist. This and other
professional disappointments damped his spirit, while
the failure of occupation induced him to break up his
costly establishment in London, and take up his
permanent abode in Glasgow. He accordingly re-
moved to that city in December, 185 1; but the
change was made too late. The sprain of his knee
and the effects of his damp London studio settled
into a confirmed rheumatism, which gradually as-
cended from his limbs to the neighbourhood of the
heart, and he died in Glasgow on the 27th of Sep-
tember, 1852, aged about forty-four years, leaving
behind him a widow and eight young children.
Among the many proofs of the affection and esteem
in which Fillans was held, the f(jllowing was of too
amiable a character to be omitted. Immediately
after his funeral a meeting of the friends of the de-
ceased was called, a committee was formed, and such
steps were adopted in raising a fund for the relief of
the widow and family as placed them above imme-
diate want. And, in the subsequent exhibition of

26

JOHN FLEMING.

the West of Scotland Academy of Artists, where
numerous productions of tlie deceased were exhibiteil,
the academicians exerted themselves in their sale^
that Mrs. FilLms and h^-r children might reap the
benefit.

Fillans mit;ht be called an artist in the widest
acceptation of the term: his whole heart was per-
vaded with a love of the beautiful, and his emotions
expressed themselves not merely in statuary, but in
painting and poetry, in each of which he might have
attained distinction had he not been so highly de-
voted to his first love. It was therefore as a sculptor
that his fame will descend to posterity, and of all
liis productions, those will be most admired where
the subject was of his own choosing, and in the
handling of which he was allowed to follow the bent
of his own genius. Of this his "Blind Teaching the
Blind," "Boy and Fawn," colossal statue of Sir
James Shaw, and bust of Professor Wilson, not to
mention others, are sufficient evidence.

FLEMING, Rev. John, D.D., F.R.S.E., pro-
fessor of natural science. New College, Edinburgh.
This eminent naturalist was the son of Mr. Alexander
Fleming, a small farmer in Linlithgowshire, and was
bom at Kirkroads, near Bathgate, in 1785. Like
his father, he might have been destined to the occupa-
tion of a hard-working peasant, had he not in early
life evinced talents that were worthy of a better con-
dition; and this was aided by the wish of his mother,
who, above all things, desired that her son John
should be trained for the ministry. Accordingly,
after his preliminary education was finished, he, at
the age of seventeen, became a student at the uni-
versity of Edinburgh. But the particular direction
of his studies had been already fixed, as from his
earliest youth he had shown an exclusive predilection
for natural science; and before he went to college he
was no ordinary proficient in zoology, botany, and
geology. In bis researches connected with these de-
partments of science he had made several important
discoveries, in consequence of which he had hoped to
render the same service to his native Linlithgow-
shire which White had done for Selborne. Al-
though his intention was frustrated by his lot being
cast in a different locality, he partly accomplished
it by diffusing the result of his explorations in the
Outline of the Flora of Linlitlis;inusliire, a paper read
to the Wernerian Society in 1809, and several other
scientific communications.

While Fleming was a student, the university of
Edinburgh was distinguished by the eminence of its
professors in natural science, ami of such an oppor-
tunity he so carefully availed himself, that when little
more than twenty years old he was already distin-
guished by the maturity of his attainments. In con-
sequence of this, when he had been licensed as a
preacher, he was commissioned by Sir John Sinclair,
in 1807, to undertake a survey of the economical mine-
ralogy of the northern isles. This he willingly did,
and while employed in the task it unexpectedly pro-
cured for him a church living. That of the parish
of Bressay having become vacant, and the patron
failing within the sjiccified time to exercise his right
of presentation, the right devolved, by the ecclesiastical
law of .Scotland, upon the presbytery of Lerwick; and
its members having been won by the rare attainments
and agreeable manners lof the young preacher and
naturalist who resided among them, unanimously
elected him minister of the parish. Soon after his
ordination, and before he had completed his twenty-
third year, Fleming drew up for publication The
licouomii-al Mlneralo^iy of the Orkney and Zetland
Islands, which is thus characterized by his biographer:

"There are evidences in it of great descriptive power,
readiness in the application of the nomenclature of
the science, correctness of eye, and such a quick ap-
preciation of the economical value of the rocks de-
scribed, as would not discredit the ablest mineralogist
at the present time." This also was but a portion of
his scientific writings in his island seclusion of Bressay,
as in the same month in which his mineralogical
report was published, he communicated to the Wer-
nerian Society a paper O71 the IVar-wal or Sea-unieorn.
At the close of the same year he also sent to the Wer-
nerian Society several papers, entitled Contributions
to the British Fauna.

It was fortunate for Fleming as well as for science
that he was not long doomed to waste his energies
among the listless solitudes of Shetland. In i8io
he was transferred to the parish of Flisk, Fifeshire,
where, amidst a wide field for scientific investigation,
and numerous associates in such pursuits, he had for
his next neighbour Dr. Chalmers, who at that time
was minister of the adjacent parish of Kilmany. In
Fifeshire Mr. Fleming prosecuted his favourite studies
with renewed ardour, and a reputation always increas-
ing; and while faithfully discharginghis clerical duties,
his eye was continually on the watch for such pro-
ductions as might enlarge the boundaries of natural
science, or throw additional light upon former dis-
coveries. On this account his communications were
frequent both in letters to his scientific friends and
in papers to the Wernerian Society. In these com-
munications also he occasionally gives scope to that
dry sarcastic spirit which had been one of his charac-
teristics from boyhood, and which the theories of the
day would not allow to slumber. But this causticity
was especially reserved for those theorists who did
not trouble themselves about facts, or who concluded
from insufficient data. To him the book of nature
was a sacred gospel, and woe be to the heretic who
misinterpreted or perverted it ! While he thus in-
tently prosecuted his investigations in chemistry and
mineralogy, in geology, botany, and zoology, he was
so fortunate as to find a fit helpmate in Miss Melville
Christie, second daughter of Andrew Christie, Esq.,
banker, Cupar, whom he married in March, 181 3,
and who entered into his pursuits with a zeal almost
equal to his own. Having also artistic skill in a very
high degree, she was able to assist him with her pen-
cil, and the plates of his Philosophy of Zoology' were
taken from drawings which she had executed for the
purpose. While such a blessing was added both
to the comforts of his fireside and the requirements
of his study, the honours which his philosophical
achievements had merited were not withheld. He
was already a member of the Antiquarian Society;
in 1813 the university of St. Andrews conferred upon
him the degree of Doctor in Divinity; and in January,
1814, he was elected a fellow of the Royal Society
of Edinburgh.

Although minister of Flisk, the stipend was not
more than ^150 per annum, and Dr. Fleming, if he
could have found a favourable opportunity, was willing
to make the study of science the sole business of his
life, instead of a divided occupation. An opportunity
for this change seemed to occur in 1815 by the estab-
lishment of the Cork Institution, and its advertise-
ment for a lecturer in natural history, which was in-
serted in the Edinburgh newspapers. He hoped also
that in addition to the salary of ;^ 1 00 per annum which
was attached to the lectureship, he might have private
classes, the fees of which might more than remunerate
him for the sacrifice of his parish stipend. On second
thoughts, however, the abandonment of such a cer-
tainty as Flisk appeared so hazardous, that he re-
solved to proceed without committing himself, and

JOHN TLEMIXG.

27

with this view offered to the Cork Institution to de-
liver one course of lectures by way of experimental
trial. He accordingly repaired to Ireland in the
spring of 1816, and delivered eighteen lectures on
botany, his pulpit of P'lisk during his absence being
supplied by his brethren of the presbytery. Finding,
however, no adequate inducement to accept the lec-
tureship, he, greatly to the satisfaction of his friends,
returned to his clerical charge in Fifeshire. After
his return from Ireland he published an outline en-
titled Observations on the JMineralogy of the iVeigh-
bour hood of Cork, and soon after read a paper to the
Royal Society of Obscti'ations on the function of the
Fresh Hater of Rivers and the Salt Water of the Sea.
At this time the increasing expense of living, and the
smallness of his income, made it impossible for him
to further his studies by the resources of a library and
costly apparatus, or even the aids of travelling. All
was to be accomplished by his own personal obser-
vation, and within the limited sphere of his own dis-
trict. Writing to a friend he says, "It is my inten-
tion to collect facts patiently, to read nature more
than books, and trust to Providence more than to
politicians." In 1819 Dr. Fleming wrote the article
"Ichthyology" for the Edinburgh Encyclopaedia, by
which his scientific reputation was considerably in-
creased. In producing this elaborate article, its
author neglected no opportunity of perfecting his
knowledge on the subject, having consulted the
writings of twenty-four authors, and examined eight-
een systems for the purpose.

Having finished the article on ichthyology. Dr.
Fleming resumed his studies, which were directed to
the construction of his great work. The Philosophy of
Zoology. In this way the year 1820 was a busy
period, as he communicated several zoological articles
to the Wernerian Society, the Edinburgh Philosophical
Journal, the Edinburgh Revieiv, and the Edinburgh
Encyclopedia. For the last-mentioned work he
wrote two elaborate articles on Insecta and Hebnin-
thology. The importance of these patient researches,
devoted to such insignificant creatures as insects and
worms, he thus vindicated, in treating of the despised
worm : — "Dew-worms, though in appearance a small
and despicable link in the chain of nature, yet, if lost,
might make a lamentable chasm. For, to say nothing
of half the birds and some quadrupeds which are
almost entirely supported by them, worms seem to be
the great promoters of vegetation (which would pro-
ceed but ill without them), by boring, perforating,
and loosening the soil, and rendering it pervious to
rains and the fibres of plants; by drawing straws and
stalks of leaves and twigs into it; and, most of all, by
throwing up such infinite numbers of lumps called
worm-casts, which form a fine manure for grain and
grass. Worms probably provide new soil for hills
and slopes when the rain washes the earth away;
and they affect slopes, probably to avoid being flooded. "
In this philosophic way he broke ground upon a sub-
ject which at that time was comparatively new and little
understood, but which has now become so greatly
amplified and improved. After communicating papers
to the Wernerian Society on "Dew-like Drops on
Leaves of Corn," "The Water-rail," "Sertularia,"
"New Species of Vorticella," &c. ; to the Edinburgh
Philosophical Journal articles on "The Arctic and
Skua Gulls," "Sertularia Gelatinosa," "Changes of
Colour in the Feathers of Birds," &c., when these
exertions made relaxation and change desirable. Dr.
Fleming accompanied Robert Stevenson, his friend,
the superintendent of Northern Lighthouses in one
of his periodical craises along the western coast in
the government lighthouse yacht, and on arriving
at Campbeltown the distinguished pair were compli-

mented by the magistrates with the freedom of the
town. But in this otherwise delightful trip we find
the doctor sighing for the want of a dredge on board,
with which he might have fished up the zoophytes of
the western sea, and congratulating himself that he
had found an Asterias jiiger new to liritain, and a
Terebratula different from that of Zetland.

On returning fnMii his cruise among the northern
lighthouses. Dr. I'leming resumed his clerical and
philosophical labours with fresh vigour, and during
that and the following year wrote three papers, entitled
"Gleanings of Natural History during a Voyage in
1 82 1," for tiie Edinburgh Philosophical Journal ; and
a notice of a submarine forest in tiie Firth of Tay, for
the Royal Society. But it was in 1S23 that Dr.
Fleming's great work, Tlie Philosophy of Zoology,
appeared. It was upon this that he had been em-
ployed for years, and in which the most important
of his discoveries and observations were contained.
Its reception by the scientific world was gratifying in
the highest degree. Baron Cuvier wrote to its author
eulogizing its merits ; it was translated into Italian
by Zendrini, the accomplished professor of mineralogy
and zoology at Pavia; and Dr. Turton, the celebrated
conchologist, in writing to Dr. Fleming, thus expresses
himself on his Philosophy of Zoology : "Thirty years
and more have I been an anxious inquirer into the
progress of natural science, and can safely say that,
except from the works of Linne, I have never been
so fully gratified. It is just what this department of
science wanted: a brief but sufficiently comprehensive
display of this attractive department of human know-
ledge. Lamark is too diffuse; Stewart is too con-
fined. Your work ranks you not only among the
scriptores feliciores, but among Xhefundatoj-es." Flem-
ing was now indeed regarded by many competent
judges as the first naturalist of the age. In the midst
of all this well-merited laudation, instead of reposing
under the shade of his own laurels, he was still
busy, and still prosecuting his inquiries into the many
departments of his beloved sciences; and soon after
the publication of his great work, he transmitted se-
veral papers to Professor Jameson's philosophical
journal. Among these were "The Influence of Society
in the Distribution of British Animals," "Remarks
on Modem Strata," and "The Geological Deluge,
as interpreted by Baron Cuvier and Professor Buck-
land, inconsistent with the Testimony of Moses and
the Phenomena of Nature. "

The next separate work of Dr. Fleming, after The
Philosophy of Zoology, was 77ie British Animals,
]iublished in 1828. It was a subject upon which he
had cogitated from his boyhood, and in his matured
age the work was written as a handbook for students,
to whom such a help was still wanting. "To this
task," writes his biographer, "he had brought rare
attainments in the knowledge of the literature of the
sciences, and of the habits and habitats of the ani-
mals described, as well as of extinct species. It is
not saying too much to aver that few, if any, recent
British systematic naturalists have not been obliged
to it. This is evident from the references to it in
almost every monograph in different departments of
zoology and ])alceontology. The pala:ontological part
of the volume was a new feature in a work of
this kind. . . . It is in every sense a history of
British animals; and the strong antiquarian tastes
which characterized its author enabled him to bring
illustrations from many remote sources." The work
was welcomed by the most eminent naturalists of the
day. It is true, indeed, tliat in the progress of natural
science many additions have been made to the species
there mentioned, and such modifications been effected
in systems of classification, that Fleming's work is

28

JOHN FLEMING.

now nearly useless to mere beginners in the study;
but to those who took from it their early lessons,
and who have used it as a manual and book of refer-
ence, it is still invaluable.

In 1S29 Dr. Fleming wrote a paper for the Edin-
burgh A'eiu Philosophual Journal on "The Insuf-
ficiency of the lividence of the Supposed Change of
Climate of the Arctic Regions;" and in proof of his
position he had referred, among other instances, to
ruminating animals. "Observation," he said, "had
discovereil many animals with cloven hoofs which
ruminate; but in such circumstances would it be safe
to infer that all cloven -hoofed animals ruminate?"
"Conceive ourselves," he added, "contemplating
the footmarks of a sheep and sow. Under the guid-
ance of Cuvier's declarations we would conclude that
both ruminated — an inference true in the one case,
and false in the other." This attack upon a favour-
ite theory of the day excited the indignation of the
Rev. W. Conybeare, author of the Geology of Eng-
land and WaUs, and a keen controversy between the
reverend philosophers was the result, conducted with
a severity of language at which the laity might well
have been astonished. The debate at last was nar-
rowed to such limits, that it mainly rested upon what
Fleming had alleged concerning the sow; and from
this circumstance it came to be termed the "pig's-
foot controversy." Mr. Conybeare, who lived in the
country, and, like other country parsons, kept pork-
ers, thought he had triumphantly settled the question
by the following declaration: "Now, my pigs are
not bisulcous, but wear four distinct toes on their feet,
although the middle ones, being most elongated, and
armed with large hoofs, certainly produce an e.\ternal
resemblance to cloven-footed animals, which has oc-
casioned their being classed in the Levitical law
(which purports not to be a philosophical arrange-
ment) as dividing the hoof, though chewing not the
cud. The impression of their feet in walking may,
if carefully examined, as Cuvier says, be distinguished
from the genuine bisulca." Here was a question for
the Scottish naturalists to settle. Are Scottish pigs
bisulcous, or actually four-toed ? The facts might
be ascertained by watching their footsteps ; but
these sages had not been wont so to study pigs'
feet. In this new dilemma the Wernerians of Edin-
burgh assembled, but being unable to decide, they
referred the matter to a committee, who were to ex-
periment, and report to the next meeting. The com-
mittee reported accordingly, and among other things
stated, "That with some difficulty they caused the
pigs to walk across a board spread over with soft
clay — that the impressions were in some places
bisulcated — that in others, besides the bisulcous
marks, there were those of two posterior toes — that
owing to the unruly nature of the animals they could
not make them walk along the board when placed
as an inclined plane, and that they had to j)lace it
horizontally," &c. It was a strange and humbling
accident that had reduced the settlement of such an
important theory to a question of pettitoes. The
inquirers awoke from their philosophical reverie —
roused, no doubt, by the laughter that surrounded
them — while Dr. Fleming, leaving them to settle
the question as they might, jiroceeded to the more
serious branches of the argument.

Notwithstanding his many discoveries in natural
science, and the distinction they had acquired not
only for himself but his country, Dr. Fleming
still remained in the obscure parish of Flisk. In
writing of this to his friend, Mr. Neil, he says, "But
I have no choice. I have been cast by Providence
in a secluded situation, with a stinted income, and
exposed to the malevolence of those who fancied that

I might interfere with their interests. In this way
the best of my life has been lost to the public, but
the accompanying discipline has not, I hope, been
lost upon myself." Even the results of his geologi-
cal researches, which he honestly and fearlessly an-
nounced, had subjected him to suspicions of being
unsound in the faith; and because he demurred at
the Mosaic account of the creation, as interpreted
by the old-world divines, he was suspected of the
wish to remove the foundation-stone of the whole
structure of revelation. Alluding to this in the same
letter, he says, "If you mean to say that I am
thought heterodox, I can only reply that it is not in-
tentional if I be so; and I have reason to believe,
aye, good reason, that I am not thought so by those
who have the best opportunities of judging." It was
no wonder that he was desirous of change, or that
the desire became so strong that sometimes he
thought of emigrating to some of our colonies. The
prospect of removal to a more eligible locality at
length occurred by a vacancy in the parish church of
Auchtermuchty, and 400 of the parishioners — every
member of the church except one — signed a petition
for his appointment as their minister. Although the
patron did not assent to their desire, Fleming was
gratified at what he justly termed "a unanimous
call from the parish — the most complete even a wor-
shipper of popularity could desire." It was not
long, however, until his wishes for a removal from
Flisk were gratified by a presentation to the parish
of Clackmannan. This occurred in 1832, and al-
though the removal was from the charge of a parish
of less than 300 to one of more than 3000 souls,
while much of the zeal and ardour of youth had de-
parted from him, he addressed himself to the duties
of his new charge with renewed diligence. Even
here, however, he was not long to remain, as a still
more congenial field of occupation awaited him. It
had long been felt that a university was his proper
sphere; and in 1834 a vacancy occurred in the natural
philosophy chair of King's College, Aberdeen. The
scnatus of the college, who were patrons of the
charge, offered it to Dr. Fleming, and by him it was
gratefully accepted.

Occupying so congenial a position. Dr. Fleming
entered heartily into its duties, and while instructing
his class he continued those studies by which natural
science might be improved, and new discoveries
made in it. In this manner he quietly continued
his course from year to year, and although the life
of an Aberdonian professor is seldom abundant in
incident, his investigations continued to enlarge the
boundaries of knowledge, and add to his reputation.
This was manifested in 1840, when Agassiz and
Buckland visited him at Aberdeen: on this occasion
the celebrated Swiss naturalist acknowledged that Dr.
Fleming had the merit of being the first who had dis-
covered the traces of fossil fishes in the old red sand-
stone. This important scientific discovery, which he
had started in earlier life, and prosecuted step by step
with increasing conviction, while each fresh convic-
tion had been made the subject of a public announce-
ment, was finally confirmed beyond question by the
remains of a fish which he found connected with a
bed of coal in Clackmannan. I lis account of the
discovery is interesting, as it shows the patient watch-
fulness with which he regarded these phenomena of
nature, and the caution with which he advanced to a
conclusion. Writing of the process and its result to
Professor Jameson, he says: — "When this organism
was first exhibited to me, I was at no loss to recog-
nize the resemblance between the plates or scales
with which it was invested, and which occur in
natural juxtaposition, and objects of a similar form

JOHN FLEMING.

«9

and structure, though detached or unconnected,
which twenty years before I had procured in the
county of Fife, from a bed covering the marine or
mountain limestone on whicli the coal-formation of
that district rests as its fundamental rock. As the
consideration of the form, structure, and composition
of the organisms from Fife had induced me to con-
sider them as the scales of a fish, I was led, under the
influence of this opinion, and observing the scales
of the Clackmannan pertrifaction occupying both
sides of the specimen, to seek for traces of the ap-
pearance of the vertebral column, and I soon satisfied
myself as to the indications of its existence at both
extremities of the mass. In this conviction I de-
spatched the example to Edinburgh, with directions
to the lapidary for making a section confirmatory of
the views of its nature which I entertained. When
in the hands of the lapidary it was inspected by
several members of the Royal Society of Edinburgh,
whose zeal in the study of organic remains had re-
ceived a fresh impulse from the numerous specimens
which had been found in the limestone of Burdie
House. In the opinion of more than one member of
the society, labouring at the time under saurian or
sauroid prejudices, my specimen was pronounced to
\>i. the fragment of a reptile, not of a fish."

In 1840, the Aberdeen Philosophical Society having
been formed. Professor Fleming felt much interest in
its progress, and at its first meeting, on the 7th of
February, read to it a paper "On a Vein of Animal
Origin occurring on a Reef of Rocks called Skerry
Vore, on the West Coast of Scotland." In 1841 he
communicated to the Edinburgh Philosophical your-
nal a paper on a more important subject, which was
the "Description of a Species of Skate new to the
British Fauna." The next subject that occupied the
mind of Dr. Fleming was a proposal in which natural
science was to be made subservient to the interests
of humanity. While residing at Aberdeen he be-
came aware of the yearly loss of life that occurred on
the east coast, from the want of safe harbours for
vessels overtaken by a storm. In this case he com-
municated in an extended form, to the Edinburgh
New Philosophical Journal, a paper which he had pre-
viously read to the Aberdeen Philosophical Society,
"On the Expediency of forming Harbours of Refuge
on the East Coast of Scotland, between the Moray
Frith and the Frith of Forth." In this communi-
cation his geological knowledge was employed both
in pointing out the localities which should be chosen
and those that were to be avoided, while his patriot-
ism was indignant, and his causticity called forth by
the indifference of our government authorities to an
evil that had so long invoked the remedy. "That
no public inquiry," he said, "should have been insti-
tuted respecting the exposed state of the east coast
of Scotland, with a view to the formation of harbours
of refuge, when it was granted elsewhere, may seem
inexplicable, unless we bear in mind that lamentable
apathy exhibited by our representatives in parliament
whenever Scottish interests of a general character are
concerned. " Attention, although tardily, was directed
to the subject, and it is hoped that the appeal will
not finally be in vain.

Although Dr. Fleming was so devoted a follower
of science, he had never been neglectful of the duties
of his clerical office; and this was attested by the
affection with which his parishioners of Bressay,
Flisk, and Clackmannan had successively regarded
him, and the regret they had shown in parting with
him. Even when he became a professor, also, he
never ceased to remember that he had been a min-
ister, or to be indifferent about the welfare of the
church. And now that the church was in difficulties

from which a disruption was inevitable, he was pre-
pared to show, by his sacrifice both of position and
emolument, how deeply he had felt upon the ques-
tion at issue. It is tme, indeed, that while the ten
years' conflict was going on he had continued his
studies as before, and only raised his head at inter-
vals to ascertain the movements of the parties: but
it must be remembered that he had neither talent nor
liking for controversies of ecclesiastical polity, and
he saw that the field was occupied by those who were
better fitted for such contests. He therefore con-
tinued to find "sermons in stones," and not only
sermons, but profound scientific truths, and calmly
to announce them to the world while the battle was
raging around him. When the time approached he
was resolved to join the retiring party, and not abide
by his professorship until he should be thrust out of
it by those who had won the victory. But must he
therefore abandon his beloved pursuits, in which he
had hitherto been so successful, and commence life
anew ? Even this kind of martyrdom he was resolved
to endure for what he considered the cause of con-
science, and the inalienable rights of the church.
Writing to Dr. Chalmers in 1843, soon after the
Disruption had occurred, and announcing the likeli-
hood of his departure from King's College, he thus
expresses himself in regard to his prospects for the
future: — "Now it becomes a measure of necessity to
look the evil in the face and provide against it,
especially after what has taken place in the House
of Lords. ... I might recommence preaching,
and, although an old razor and rather rusty, I might
yet get a call and be usefully employed. But while
I labour under the conviction that in such a station
I could not do much good to the Free Church, I have
strong bodily and mental objections to such a course,
as you may easily conceive, after having been nine
years absent from a parish charge." He then sug-
gests the mode in which he might be employed more
profitably to the cause and the interests of religion
at large. "Were a Free Church College started in
Edinburgh, I could, in the chair of natural history,
bring an amount of influence in that department, in
which I formerly published a good deal, likely to be
highly useful to the institution. Were a chair of
natural theology attached to the Divinity Hall, I
think I could occupy it with considerable advantage
to the Free Church." He then gives his views of a
course of this kind extending over three years, of
which the first year should comprise the inorganic
kingdom; the second biology and phytology, or the
structure, functions, and distribution of plants; and
the third, zoology. After mentioning the subjects
that should be treated under each head of the three
years' course, he proceeds to state the advantages
that would result from it. "Such a course would
qualify for conversing with farmers, miners, fisher-
men, &c. , not merely by a knowledge of facts, but
by an acquaintance with the philosophy of the sub-
ject, and, viewed in this light, it would give a certain
amount of authority, as you are well aware, to a
parish minister. But to a missionary what a power
would be acquired ! . . . I need not expatiate
to you on the influence which such a course would
exercise on the minds of the students of the Free
Church, or the power of pulpit illustration which it
would furnish. Multitudes do not see God in hjs
works because they are not qualified to read the book
of nature. They have not studied the subject suffi-
ciently in its details to philosophize safely. Now,
were the facts sufficiently numerous and varied in
their character, the conclusions would be useful and
stable. Such a course would supply to the divinity
student the place of classes of mineralogy and geo-

JOHN FLEMING ROBERT FLEMING.

logy, phytology and zoology, and constitute a theo-
logical commentary on tiie earth, its contents and
inhabitants." After this enthusiastic but not over-
strained description of the benefits which such a
course would imjjart to the future teachers of religion.
Dr. Fleming disinterestedly adds, "I beg of you, in
judging of this scheme of a natural theology chair,
to keep me out of view, and to determine respecting
it wholly as a new branch of e<iucatii)nal prepara-
tion exclusively (»// its oion merits." To Dr. Chalmers
such an application could not be made in vain. From
the taste which had sprung up among the highest
intellects for the study of geology and zoology, he
saw that the church must keep ahead, or at least
abreast, of such a scientific movement, in which the
interests of religion were so deeply implicated, and
that unless theological students were accomplished
in such knowledge, they could no longer be the au-
thoritative teachers and guides of the people. He
therefore cordially received the proposal, and entered
into it with his wonted enthusiasm. It was sub-
mitted to the founders and heads of the contemplated
F'ree Church College, who regarded it with equal
partiality. By their desire a new plan was drawn
out by Dr. P'leming, in which a single year's course
was substituted for one of tiiree, and various modifi-
cations introduced into the details, to suit the wants
of the age and the difficulties of a newly constructed
church. The chair of natural science being estab-
lished in the Free Church College, there was but
one opinion as to the man best fitted to occupy it;
and accordingly, in 1845, at the General Assembly
of the Free Church held at Inverness, Dr. P'leming
was unanimously appointed to the professorship.

After this the life of the venerable professor was
spent partly in the duties of his charge, and partly
in communicating through the press the discoveries
he was still continuing to prosecute; and, in the latter
case, his chief medium was the North British Revinv,
established chielly by Free Church influence, and
placed under the editorship of Dr. Welsh. Old age,
without abating the intellectual energy and activity,
or blunting the wit of Dr. Fleming, which always
had a keen edge, only mellowed his temper and re-
pressed his pugnacity, so that he was not only at
peace with the world at large, but in close friendship
with his former rivals and antagonists in science, who
now could only wonder why they had quarrelled with
him. But to the last his chief intellectual character-
istic, and one so necessary for a guide in the investi-
gations of natural science, abode with him — to wit,
his love of facts, and contempt for mere hypotheses.
What he examined with his own senses, or received
from testimony that could not be impeached, he ad-
mitted into his system — but theories he despised,
and to the theorist he turned a deaf ear let him
theorize never so wisely. Among the many incidents
illustrative of this scrupulous allegiance to the hard
requirements of science with which he startled and
sometimes amused his stutlents, was one which oc-
curred while he was professor in the Free Church
College. On a scientific excursion with his class
he was explaining to them the boulder-clay, and the
order of the successive strata that lay beneath it, when
a dapper young student, impatient to chip the earth's
shell and get to the bottom of things, abruptly asked,
"But, doctor, what is at the centre of all?" "I don't
know, sir," replied the professor, "for I never was
tliere."

After he had held his professorship in the Free
Church College for twelve years. Dr. Fleming died
after a short illness; and it was characteristic of his
love of science and indefatigable industry, that he
was withdrawn while in the midst of active occupa-

tion. He had written his last work. The Lithology
of Ediuhiirgh, and had passed the whole of it through
the press, with the exception of the last half-sheet,
when his final brief sickness suqjrised him. But he
scarcely could be said to be surprised who had been
living in readiness to die ; and he departed in the
consciousness that he was removing to a sphere of
clearer vision, and a more intimate knowledge of the
Creator. His death occurred on the 18th of Novem-
ber, 1857, and his best epitaph is the following
notice from the minutes of the Royal Physical So-
ciety:— "In his capacity as professor of natural science
in the New College, it is believed that Dr. Fleming
has been eminently successful in imparting much of
his own healthy s]:)irit to the many students who
have listened to his prelections, while his own full
testimony to the compatibility of a sincere belief in
revealed truth with the acceptance of the facts and
views of modern science, must have helped not a
little to stem the torrent of speculative infidelity
which threatened not long ago to break forth in our
land."

FLEMING, Robert, an eminent divine and
theological writer, was the son of the Rev. Robert
Fleming, a clergyman, first at Cambuslang, and
afterwards at Rotterdam, and author of a well-known
work, entitled The Fulfilling of the Scriptures. The
subject of this memoir received his education partly
in his native country, and partly in the universities
of Leyden and Utrecht. He first officiated as a
clergyman to the English congregation at Leyden,
and afterwards he succeeded to the church at Rotter-
dam, where his father died in 1694. In the year
1698 he removed to London to settle as pastor of
the Scottish congregation in Lothbury, not only at
the earnest invitation of the people, but by the desire
of King William, with whom he had formed an inti-
macy in Holland. This monarch used frequently to
send for Fleming, to consult with him upon Scottish
affairs; an intercourse conducted, at the desire of the
divine, with the greatest secrecy.

Fleming, though a dissenter from the Church of
.Scotland as now established, was an admirer of her
fundamental and original institution. It was not in-
consistent with this profession that he zealously up-
held hereditary monarchy as a principle in govern-
ment. Popery in the church, and tyranny in the
state, were what he most detested. In personal
character Fleming was a pious, mild, and affable man.
In learning he stood very high, being conversant not
only with the fathers and councils, and the ecclesias-
tical and civil historians, but with the oriental lan-
guages, the works of the Jewish rabbis, and the whole
circle of polite authors, ancient and modern. On
account of his amiable manners and extensive
knowledge, he was held in great esteem both by the
foreign universities and by the most learned persons
at home. The Archbishop of Canterbury, and many
other eminent dignitaries of the English church,
extended their friendship to him. By the dissenting
clergymen of the city, though connected with a dif-
ferent national church, he was chosen one of the
preacher of the merchants' Tuesday lecture at Salters'
Hall. Lord Carmichael, the secretary of state for
Scotland, offered him the office of principal of the
university of Glasgow, which he declined, from con-
scientious scruples.

Fleming published various works in divinity; but
the most remarkable was a discourse, printed in
1 70 1, on The Rise and Fall of the Papacy. Like
many other sincerely pious men of that age, he was
deeply affected by the position in which the Protes-
tant religion stood in respect of the Papacy, threat-

ROBERT FLEMING

eneJ as Great Britain was, by the power of France,
and the designs of a Catholic claimant of the throne.
Proceeding upon the mysteries of the Apocalypse
and other data, he made some calculations of a very
striking nature, and which were strangely verified.
On the subject of the pouring out of the fourth vial,
he says: — "There is ground to hope that, about
the beginning of another such century, things may
again alter for the better, for I cannot but hope that
some new mortification of the chief supporters of
antichrist will then happen; and perhaps the French
monarchy may begin to be considerably humbled
about that time : that, whereas the present French
king takes for his motto A'tr plunbits impar, he
may at length, or rather his successors, and the
monarchy itself (at least before the year 1794), be
forced to acknowledge, that, in respect to neighbour-
ing potentates, he is even singulis impar.

"But as to the expiration of this vial," he con-
tinues, "I do fear it will not be until the year 1794.
The reason of which conjecture is this — that I find
the pope got a new foundation of exaltation when
Justinian, upon his conquest of Italy, left it in a
great measure to the pope's management, being
willing to eclipse his own authority to advance that
of this haughty prelate. Now, this being in the
year 552, this, by the addition of 1260, reaches down
to the year 181 1, which, according to prophetical
account, is the year 1794. And then I do suppose
the fourth vial will end, and the fifth commence, by
a new mortification of the Papacy, after this vial has
lasted 148 years; which indeed is long in comparison
with the former vials; but if it be considered in rela-
tion to the fourth, fifth, and sixth trumpets, it is but
short, seeing the fourth lasted 190 years, the fifth
302, and the sixth 393."

It is important to observe, that Fleming imme-
dately subjoins, that he gave "his speculations of
what is future no higher character than guesses."
He adds: "therefore, in the fourth and last place,
we may justly suppose that the French monarchy,
after it has scorched others, will itself consume by
doing so; its fire and that which is the fuel that
maintains it, resting insensibly till towards the end
of this century, as the Spanish monarchy did before,
towards the end of the sixteenth age."

In the month of January, 1793, when Louis XVI.
was about to suffer on the scaffold, the apparent
predictions of Fleming came into notice in the
British newspapers. Again, in 1848, the attempt
to liberate Italy, and the temporary flight of the
pope, attracted attention to Fleming's very re-
markable calculation as to the time of the pouring
out of the fifth vial. "This judgment," says he,
"will probably begin about the year 1794, and ex-
pire about the year 1848; ... for I do suppose
that, seeing the pope received the title of supreme
bishop no sooner than the year 606, he cannot be
supposed to have any vial poured out upon his seat
immediately (so as to ruin his authority so signally
as this judgment must be supposed to do) until the
year 1848, which is the date of the 1260 years in
prophetical account, when they are reckoned from
the year 606."

The anxiety of this worthy man respecting the
fate of Protestantism and the Hanover succession,
at length brought on a disease which obstructed his
usefulness, and threatened his life. Though he re-
covered from it, and lived some years, his feeble
constitution finally sank under his grief for the loss of
some dear friends, the death of some noble patriots,
the divisions amongst Protestants, and the con-
federacy of France and Rome to bind Europe in
chains. He died May 24, 17 16.

ANDREW FLETCHER.

31

FLETCHER, Andrew, so much celebrated for

his ])atriotism and political knowledge, was the sou
of Sir Robert Fletcher of Salton antl Innerpeffer,
by Catharine Bruce, daughter of Sir Henry Bruce
of Clackmannan, and was born in the year 1653.
His descent was truly noble, his father being the
fifth in a direct line from Sir Bernard Fletcher of
the county of York, and his mother of the noble
race of Bruce ; the patriarch of the family of Clack-
mannan having been the third son of Robert de
Bruce, Lord of Aimandale, grandfather of Robert de
Bruce, King of Scots. The subject of this memoir
had the misfortune to lose his father in early youth;
but he was, by that parent, on his death-bed, con-
signed to the care of Gilbert Burnet, then minister
of Salton, and afterwards Bishop of Salisbury, who
carefully instructed him in literature and religion, as
well as in the principles of free government, of which
Fletcher became afterwards such an eminent advo-
cate. After completing his course of education
under his excellent preceptor, he went upon his
travels, and spent several years in sun-eying the
manners and examining the institutions of the prin-
cipal continental states. His first appearance as a
public character was in -the parliament held by
James, Duke of York, as royal commissioner in the
year 1681. In this parliament Fletcher sat as com-
missioner for the shire of East Lothian, and mani-
fested the most determined opposition to the arbitrary
and tyrannical measures of the court. In a short
time he found it necessary to withdraw himself, first
into England, to consult with his reverend preceptor,
Dr. Burnet, and after\vards, by his advice, to
Holland. For his opposition to the test, and to the
general spirit of the government, he was, not long
after, summoned to appear before the lords of his
majesty's privy-council at Edinburgh. Of the spirit
of this court, the most abominable that has disgraced
the annals of Great Britain, Fletcher was too well
aware to put himself in its power; and for his non-
appearance he was outlawed and his estate confis-
cated. Holland was at this time the resort of many
of the best men of both kingdoms who had been
obliged to expatriate themselves to escape the fury
of an infatuated government, and with these Fletcher
formed the closest intimacy. In the year 1683 he
accompanied Baillie of Jerviswood to England, in
order to concert measures with the friends of liberty
there, and was admitted into the secrets of Lord
Russell's council of six. This assembly consisted of
the Duke of Monmouth, the Lords Russell, Essex,
and Howard, Algernon Sydney, and John Hampden,
grandson to the immortal patriot of that name.
Tyranny was, however, at thia- time triumphant.
Monmouth was obliged to abscond ; Russell was
apprehended, tried, and executed, principally through
the evidence of his associate, the unprincipled Lord
Howard. Essex was imprisoned, and either cut his
own throat, or had it cut by assassins — historj- has
never determined which. Sydney was executed,
and Howard subjected to a fine of _;^40,ooo sterling.
Many other persons of inferior note were executed
for this plot. Jerviswood fell into the hands of
the Scottish administration, and was most illegally
and iniquitously put to death. Fletcher too was
eagerly sought after, and, had he been apprehended,
would certainly have shared the same fate. He,
however, escaped again to the Continent, where he
devoted his time to the study of public law, and
for some time seems to have had little correspondence
with his native country.

In the beginning of the year 1685, when James
VII. acceded to the throne of Britain, Fletcher came
to the Hague, where were assembled Monmouth,

32

ANDREW FLETCHER.

Ar^'le, Melville, Polworth, Tonvoodlie, Mr. James
Stuart, Lord Stair, and many other gentlemen, both
Scottish and English, when the unfortunate expedi-
tions of Argyle and Monmouth were concerted. It
does not appear, however, that Fletcher was a leader
among these gentlemen. His temper was of the
most stern and unaccommodating character, and he
was bent upon setting up a commonwealth in Scot-
land, or at least a monarchy so limited as to bear
very little re^^blaince to a kingdom. He had
drunk deep of t^ spirit ofancient Greece, with which
the greater part of his associates, patriots though they
were, had no great acquaintance; and he had a
consciousness of his own superiority that could not
go well down with those feudal chieftains who sup-
posed that their birth alone entitled them to prece-
dency in council, as well as to command in the field.
His own country was certainly dearer to him than
any other, and in it he was likely to put forth his
energies with the greatest effect; yet from his dis-
satisfaction with their plans of operation, he did not
embark with his countrymen but with the Duke of
Monmouth, in whom, if successful, he expected less
obstiiiction to his republican views. Fletcher was
certainly at the outset warmly attached to Monmouth's
scheme of landing in England, though he subse-
quently wished it to be laid aside; and he afterwards
told Burnet that Monmouth, though a weak young
man, was sensible of the imprudence of his adven-
ture, but that he was pushed on to it against his
own sense and reason, and was piqued upon the
point of honour in hazarding his person with his
friends. He accordingly landed at Lynn, in Dorset-
shire, on the iith of June, 1685, with about 100
followers, of whom the subject of this memoir was
one of the most distinguished. Crowds of people
soon flocked to join the standard of Monmouth, and
had he been qualified for such an enterprise as that
he had now undertaken the Revolution of 16S8 might
perhaps have been anticipated. He, however, pos-
sessed no such qualifications, nor did those on whom
he had principally depended. Lord Gray, to whom
he had given the command of the horse, was sent
out with a small party to disperse a detachment of
militia that had been assembled to oppose him. The
militia retreated before the troops of Monmouth,
who stood firm; but Gray their general fled, carry-
ing back to his camp the news of a defeat, which
was in a short time contradicted by the return of the
troops in good order. Monmouth had intended to
join Fletcher along with Gray in the command of his
cavalry, and the Scottish patriot certainly would not
have fled, so long as one man stood by him; but
unfortunately, at the very time when Gray was out
on the service in which he so completely disgraced
his character, Fletcher was sent out in another direc-
tion, in which he was scarcely less unfortunate,
having, in a personal quarrel about a horse which
he had too hastily laid hold of for his own use, killed
the mayor of Lynn, who had newly come in to join
the insurgent army, in consequence of which he was
under the necessity of leaving the camp immediately.
The melancholy fate of Monmouth is generally
known.

Though there cannot be a doubt that the shooting
of the mayor of Lynn was the real cause of P^letcher's
abandoning the enterprise so early, he himself never
admitted it. He had joined, he said, the Duke of
Monmouth on the footing of his manifestations,
which promised to provide for the permanent security
of civil liberty and the Protestant religion, by the
callmg of a general congress of delegates from the
people at large, to form a free constitution of govern-
ment, in which no claim to the throne was to be ad-

mitted, but with the free choice of the representatives
of the people. From the proclaiming of Monmouth
king, which was done at Taunton, he saw, he said,
that he had been deceived, and resolved to proceed
no further, every step from that moment being trea-
son against the just rights of the nation, and deep
treachery on the part of Monmouth. At any rate,
finding that he could be no longer useful, he left
Taunton, and embarked aboard a vessel for Spain,
where he no sooner arrived, than he was thrown
into prison, and, on the application of the British
ambassacipr, was ordered to be delivered up and
transmitted to London in a Spanish ship fitted up for
that purpose. In this hopeless situation, looking
one morning through the bars of his dungeon, he
was accosted by a person who made signs that he
wished to speak with him. Looking around him
Fletcher perceived an open door, at which he was
met by his deliverer, with wliom he passed unmolested
through three different military guards, all of whom
seemed to be fast asleep, and without being permitted
to return thanks to his guide, made good his escape,
with the assistance of one who evidently had been
sent for the express purpose, but of whom he never
obtained the smallest information. Travelling in
disguise, he proceeded through Spain, and consider-
ing himself out of danger, made a leisurely pilgrim-
age through the country, amusing himself in the
libraries of the convents, where he had the good
fortune to find many rare and curious books, some
of which he was enabled to purchase and bring along
with him, to the enriching of the excellent library
he had already formed at his seat of Salton, in East
Lothian. In the course of his peregrinations he
made several very narrow escapes, among which the
following is remarkable, as having apparently fur-
nished the hint for a similar incident in a well-known
fiction. He was proceeding to a town where he in-
tended to have passed the night; but in the skirts
of a wood, a few miles from thence, upon entering
a road to the right, he was warned by a woman of
respectable appearance to take the left-hand road,
as there would be danger in the other direction.
Upon his arrival he found the citizens alarmed by
the news of a robbery and murder, which had taken
place on the road against which he had been cau-
tioned, and in which he would have certainly been
implicated, through an absurd Spanish law, even
although not seen to commit any crime. After leav-
ing Spain he proceeded into Hungar)', where he
entered as a volunteer into the army, and distin-
guished himself by his gallantry and military talents.
From this distant scene of activity, however, he was
soon recalled by the efforts that at length were making
to break the yoke of tyranny and the staff of the
oppressor that had so long lain heavy on the king-
dom of Britain. Coming to the Hague he found
there his old friends, Stair, Melville, Polworth, Car-
dross, Stuart of Coltness, Stuart of Goodtrees, Dr. M
Burnet, and Mr. Cunningham, who still thought his I
principles high and extravagant, though they asso-
ciated with him, and were happy to have the in-
fluence of his name and the weight of his talents to
aid them on so momentous an occasion. Though
not permitted to be a leader in the great work of the
Revolution — for which, indeed, his principles, which -J
were so different from those of the men who effected
it, disqualified him — he came home in the train of,
his countrymen, who by that great event were re- j
stored to their country and to their rightful posses-
sions; and, according to the statement of the Earl of I
Buchan,* made a noble appearance in the convention]

^ Li/e 0/ Fletcher 0/ Salton.

ANDREW FLETCHER.

33

which met in Scotland after the Revohition for settling
the new government. Lockhart of Carnwath, who
was no friend to the new government, nor of the
principles upon which it was founded, takes no notice
of this portion of the life of Fletcher, though he is
copious upon his speeches, and indeed every part of
his conduct, when he afterwards became a violent
oppositionist.

In the year 1692, when every effort to bring about
a counter revolution was made, Fletcher, though
strongly, and perhaps justly, disgusted with King
William, renouncing every selfish principle, and
anxious only to promote the welfare of the country,
exerted himself to the utmost to preserve what had
been already attained in the way of a free govern-
ment, though it came far short of what he wished,
and what he fondly, too fondly, hoped the nation
had been ripe to bear. In all that regarded the
public welfare he was indeed indefatigable, and that
without any appearance of interested motives. He
was the first friend and patron of that extraordinary
man William Paterson, to whom the honour of the
formation of the Bank of England ought, in justice,
to be ascribed, and who projected the Darien Com-
pany, the most splendid idea of colonization that
was ever attempted to be put in practice. "Pater-
son," says Sir John Dalrymple, "on his return to
London, formed a friendship with Mr. Fletcher of
Salton, whose mind was inflamed with the love of
public good, and all of whose ideas to procure it had
a sublimity in them. Fletcher disliked England,
merely because he loved Scotland to excess, and
therefore the report common in Scotland is probably
true, that he was the person who persuaded Paterson
to trust the fate of his project to his own countrymen
alone, and to let them have the sole benefit, glory,
and danger in it, for in its danger Fletcher deemed
some of its glory to consist. Although Fletcher had
nothing to hope for, and nothing to fear, because
he had a good estate and no children, and though
he was of the country party, yet, in all his schemes
for the public good, he was in use to go as readily
to the king's ministers as to his own friends, being
indifferent who had the honour of doing good, pro-
vided it was done. His house of Salton, in East
Lothian, was near to that of the Marquis of Tweed-
dale, then minister for Scotland, and they were often
together. Fletcher brought Paterson down to Scot-
land with him, presented him to the marquis, and
then, with that power which a vehement spirit always
possesses over a diffident one, persuaded the states-
man, by arguments of public good, and of the
honour that would redound to his administration,
to adopt the project. Lord Stair and Mr. Johnston,
the two secretaries of state, patronized those abilities
in Paterson which they possessed in themselves, and
the lord-advocate. Sir James Stewart, the same man
who had adjusted the Prince of Orange's declaration
at the Revolution, and whose son was married to a
daughter of Lord Stair, went naturally along with
his connections." From the above it appears that
Fletcher, next to the projector Paterson, who was,
like himself, an ardent lover of liberty, had the prin-
cipal hand in forwarding the colonization of Darien,
and to his ardent and expansive mind we have no
doubt that the plan owed some, at least, of its ex-
cellencies, and also perhaps the greatest of its de-
fects. "From this period," remarks Lord Buchan,
"till the meeting of the union parliament, Fletcher
was uniform and indefatigable in his parliamentary
conduct, continually attentive to the rights of the
people, and jealous, as every friend of his country
ought to be, of their invasion by the king and his
■ministers ; for it is as much of the nature of kings
VOL. II.

and ministers to invade and destroy the rights of the
lieojile, as it is of foxes and weasels to ritle a poultry-
yard, and destroy the poultry. All of them, there-
fore," continues his lordship, "ought to be tnuzzled."
Among other things that Fletcher judged necessary
for the preservation of puljlic liberty, was that of
national militia. In a discourse ujion this subject
he says, "A good and effective militia is of such im-
portance to a nation, that it is the chief part of the
constitution of any free government. For though,
as to other things, the constitution be never so slight,
a good militia will always preserve the public liberty;
but in the best constitution that ever was, as to all
other parts of government, if the milifiabe not upon
a right footing, the liberty of that people must
perish."

Scotland, ever since the union of crowns, had been
stripped of all her importance in a national point of
view, and the great object at this time was to exclude
English influence from her councils, and to restore
her to her original state of independence — a thing
which could never be accomplished so long as the
King of Scotland was the King of England. James
VL, when he succeeded to the English crown, wiser
than any of his statesmen, saw this difficulty, and
proposed to obviate it by the only possible means, a
union of the two kingdoms; but, owing to the in-
veterate prejudices of so many ages, neither of the
kingdoms could at that time be brought to submit
to the judicious proposal. Fletcher and his com-
patriots saw what had been the miserable evils, but
they saw not the proper remedy; hence they pursued
a plan that, but for the superior wisdom of the Eng-
lish, would have separated the crowns, brought on
hostilities, and the entire subjection of the country
by force of arms. In all the measures which had
for their object the annihilating of English influence,
Fletcher had the principal hand, and there were
some of them of singular boldness. In case of
the crowns of the two kingdoms continuing to be
worn by one person, the following, after pointing
out in strong terms the evils that had accrued to
Scotland from this unfortunate association, were the
limitations proposed by Fletcher: — "ist. That elec-
tions shall be made at every Michaelmas head court,
for a new parliament every year, to sit the 1st of
November next following, and adjourn themselves
from time to time till next Michaelmas — that they
choose their own president — and that everj-thing
shall be determined by balloting, in place of voting.
2d, That so many lesser barons shall be added to
the parliament, as there have been noblemen created
since the last augmentation of the number of the
barons; and that in all time coming, for every noble-
man that shall be created, there shall be a baron
added to the parliament. 3d, That no man have
a vote in parliament but a nobleman or elected
members. 4th, That the kings shall give the sanc-
tion to all laws offered by the estates, and that
the president of the parliament be empowered by
his majesty to give the sanction in his absence, and
have ten pounds sterling a day of salary. 5th, That
a committee of one-and-thirty members, of which nine
to be a quorum, chosen out of their own number by
every parliament, shall, during the intervals of par-
liament, under the king, have the administration of
the government, be his council, and accountable to
the next parliament, with power on extraordinary
occasions to call the parliament together, and that,
in said council, all things be determined by balloting
in place of voting. 6th, That the king, without
consent of parliament, shall not have the power of
making peace and war, or that of concluding any
treaty with any other state or potentate. 7th, That

33

34

ANDREW FLETCHER.

all places and offices, both civil and military, and all
pensions, formerly conferred by our kinj^s, shall ever
after be given by parliament. 8th, That no regiment
or company of horse, foot, or dragoons, be kept on
foot in peace or war but by consent of parliament.
9th, Th.at all the fencible men of the nation betwixt
sixty and sixteen, be with all diligence jwssible armed
with bayonets and firelocks all of a calibre, and con-
tinue always provided in such arms, with ammuni-
tion suitable. loth, That no general indemnity nor
pardon for any transgression against the public shall
be valid without consent of parliament, nth, That
the fifteen senators of the college of justice shall be
incapable of being members of parliament, or of any
other office or pension, but the salary that belongs to
their place to be increased as the parliament shall
think fit; that the office of president shall be in three
of their number, to be named by parliament; and
that there be no extraordinary lords. And also,
that the lords of the justice court shall be distinct
from that of the session, and under the same restric-
tions. 1 2th, That if any king break in upon any of
these conditions of government, he shall, by the
estates, be declared to have forfeited the crown."
The above limitations did not pass the house, though
they met with very general support; yet, something
little short of them was really i)assed, and received
the royal assent. The so much applauded Act of
Security made many provisions respecting the mode
of proceeding in parliament in case of the queen's
death, with the conditions under which the successor
to the crown of England was to be allowed to suc-
ceed to that of Scotland, which were to be "at least,
freedom of navigation, free communication of trade
and liberty of the plantations to the kingdom and
subjects of Scotland, established by the parliament
of England." It also provideil, "that the whole
Protestant heritors, with all the burghs of the king-
dom, should forthwith provide themselves with fire-
arms for all the fencible men who were Protestants
within their respective bounds; and they were further
ordained and appointed to exercise the said fencible
men once a month, at least." The same parliament
passed an act anent peace and war, which provided,
among other things, that after her majesty's death,
and failing heirs of her body, no person, at the same
time King or Queen of Scotland and England, shall
have sole power of making war with any prince,
state, or potentate whatsoever, without consent of
parliament. A proposal made at this time for
settling the succession, as the English parliament
had done, in the house of Hanover, was treated with
the utmost contempt, some proposing to burn it, and
others insisting that the member who proposed it
should be sent to the castle; and it was at last thrown
out by a majority of fifty-seven voices. Another
limitation proposed by Fletcher was, that all places,
offices, and jjensions, which had been formerly given
by our king, should after her majesty and heirs of
her body, be conferred only by parliament so long as
the crowns remained united. "Without this limita-
tion," he continues, "our poverty and subjection to
the court of England will every day increase, and
the question we have now before us is, whether we
will be free men, or slaves for ever? whether we will
continue to defend or break the yoke of our indepen-
dence? and whether we will choose to live poor and
miserable, or rich, free, and happy? Let no man
think to object that this limitation takes away the
whole power of tlie prince; for the same condition
of government is found in one of the most absolute
monarchies of the world, China." Quoting the autho-
rity of Sir William Temple for this fact, he continues,
"and if, under the greatest absolute monarchy of

the world, in a countiy where the prince actually re-
sides— if among heathens this be accounted a neces-
sary part of government for the encouragement of
virtue, shall it be denied to Christians living under a
prince who resides in another nation ? Shall it be
denied to people who have a right to liberty, and
yet are not capable of any, in their present circum-
stances, without this limitation?" We cannot re-
frain copying the following sentences on the benefits
he anticipated from the measure: — "This limitation
will undoubtedly enrich the nation by stopping that
perpetual issue of money to England, which has re-
duced this country to extreme poverty. This limita-
tion does not flatter us with the hopes of riches, by
an uncertain project — does not require so much as
the condition of our own industiy; but by saving
great sums to the country, will every year furnish a
stock sufficient to carry on a considerable trade, or to
establish some useful manufacture at home with the
highest probability of success: because our ministers,
by this rule of government, would be freed from the
influence of English councils, and our trade be entirely
inourown hands, and notunderthe power of the court,
as it was in the affair of Darien. If we do not attain
this limitation, ourattendanceat London will continue
to drain this nation of all those sums which should be
a stock for trade. Besides, by frequenting that court,
we not only spend our money, but learn the expensive
modes and ways of living of a rich and luxurious
nation; we lay out, yearly, great sums in furniture and
equipage, to the unspeakable prejudice of the trade
and manufactures of our own country. Not that I
think it amiss to travel into England, in order to see
and learn their industry in trade and husbandly; but at
court what can we learn, except a horrid corruption
of manners and an expensive way of living, that we
may for ever after be both poor and profligate? This
limitation will secure to us our freedom and indepen-
dence. It has been often said in this house, that
our princes are captives in England, and, indeed, one
would not wonder if, when our interest happens to
be different from that of England, our kings, who
must be supported by the riches and power of that
nation in all their undertakings, should prefer an
English interest before that of this country; it is yet
less strange that English ministers should advise
and procure the advancement of such persons to the
ministry of Scotland, as will comply with their
measures and the king's orders, and to surmount the
difficulties they may meet with from a true Scottish
interest, that places and pensions should be bestowed
upon parliament men and others. I say, these things
are so far from wonder, that they are inevitable in
the present state of our affairs; but I hope they like-
wise show us that we ought not to continue any
longer in this condition. Now, this limitation is ad-
vantageous to all. The prince will no more be put
upon the hardship of deciding between an English
and a Scottish interest, or the difficulty of reconcil-
ing what he owes to each nation in consequence of
his coronation oath. Even English ministers will
no longer lie under the temptation of meddling in
Scottish affairs, nor the ministers of this kingdom,
together with all those who have places and pensions,
be any more subject to the worst of all slavery. But
if the influences I mentioned before still continue,
what will any other limitation avail us? What shall
we be the better for our act concerning the power
of war and peace, since by the force of an English
interest and influence, we cannot fail of being en-
gaged in every war and neglected in every peace ?
By this limitation our parliament will become the
most uncornipted senate of all Europe. No man
will be tempted to vote against the interest of his

ANDREW FLETCHER.

35

countr)', when his country shall have all the bribes
in her own hands — offices, places, and pensions. It
will be no longer necessary to lose one half of the
customs, that parliament men may be made collec-
tors; we will not desire to exclude the officers of
state from sitting in this house, when the country
shall have the nomination of them; and our parlia-
ment, free from corruption, cannot fail to redress all
our grievances. We shall then have no cause to fear
a refusal of the royal assent to our acts, for we shall
have no evil counsellor nor enemy of his country to
advise it. W'hen this condition of government shall
take place, the royal assent will be the ornament of
the prince, and never be refused to the desires of the
people ; a general unanimity will be found in this
house, in every part of the government, and among
all ranks and conditions of men. The distinctions
of court and country party shall no more be heard in
this nation, nor shall the prince and people any
longer have a different interest. Rewards and pun-
ishments will be in the hands of those who live
among us, and consequently best know the merit of
men, by which means virtue will be recompensed
and vice discouraged, and the reign and government
of the prince will flourish in peace and justice. I
should never make an end if I should prosecute all
the gi-eat advantages of this limitation, which, like
a divine influence, turns all to good, as the want of
it has hitherto poisoned everything, and brought all
to ruin."

If Fletcher really believed the one half of what he
ascribes in this speech to his favourite limitation, he
was an enthusiast of no common order. We suspect,
however, that his design was in the first place to
render the king insignificant, and then to dismiss him
altogether, it being one of his favourite maxims,
that the trappings of a monarchy and a great aris-
tocracy would patch up a very clever little common-
wealth. The high-flying Tories of that day, how-
ever, or, in other words, the Jacobites, in the heat
of their rage and the bitterness of their disappoint-
ment, clung to him as their last hope, supporting
even his most deadly attacks upon the royal preroga-
tive, from the desperate pleasure of seeing the kingly
office, since they could not preserve it for their own
idol, rendered useless, ridiculous, or intolerable to
any one else who should enjoy it. By this means
there was a seeming consistency in those ebullitions
of national independence, and a strength and vigour
which they really did not possess, but which alarmed
the English ministry; and the union of the kingdoms,
which good sense and good feeling ought to have ac-
complished at least one century earlier, was effected
at last as a work of political necessity fully as much
as of mercy. In every stage of this important busi-
ness Fletcher was its most determined opponent, in
which he was, as usual, seconded by the whole
strength of the Jacobites. Happily, however, through
the prudence of the English ministry, the richness of
her treasurj', and the imbecility of the Duke of
Hamilton, the leader of the Jacobites, he was unsuc-
cessful, and retired from public life under the melan-
choly idea that he had outlived not only his country's
glory, but her very existence, having witnessed, as he
thought, the last glimmering of hope, and heard the
last sounds of freedom that were ever to make glad
the hearts of her unfortunate children. He died at
London in 1 716.

The character of Fletcher has been the subject
of almost universal and unlimited panegyric. "He
was," says the Earl of Buchan, "by far the most
nervous and correct speaker in the parliament of
Scotland, for he drew his style from the pure models
of antiquity, and not from the grosser practical ora-

tory of his contemporaries; so that his speeches will
bear a comparison with the best speeches of the
reign of Queen Anne, the Augustan age of (ireat
Britain." Lockhart says, "He was always an admirer
of both ancient and modem republics, but that he
showed a sincere and honest inclination towards the
honour and interest of his country. The idea of
England's domineering over Scotland was what his
generous soul could not endure. The indignities
and oppression Scotland lay under galled him to the
heart, so that, in his learned and elaborate discourses,
he exposed them with undaunted courage and pa-
thetic eloquence. He was blessed with a soul that
hated and despised whatever was mean and unbe-
coming a gentleman, and was so steadfast to what
he thought right, that no hazard nor advantage — not
the universal empire, nor the gold of America — could
tempt him to yield or desert it. And I may affirm
that in all his life he never once pursued a measure
with the least prospect of anything by end to himself,
nor farther than he judged it for the common benefit
and advantage of his country. He was master of the
English, Latin, Greek, P'rench, and Italian languages,
and well versed in history, the civil law, and all kinds
of learning. He was a strict and nice observer of
all the points of honour, and had some experience of
the art of war, having been some time a volunteer
in both the land and sea service. He was in his
private conversation affable to his friends (but could
not endure to converse with those he thought
enemies to their country), and free of all manner of
vice. He had a penetrating, clear, and lively ap-
prehension, but so exceedingly wedded to his own
opinions, that there were few (and these too must
be his beloved friends, and of whom he had a good
opinion) he could endure to reason against him, and
did for the most part so closely and unalterably
adhere to what he advanced, which ■was frequently
very singular, that he'd break with his party before
he'd alter the least jot of his scheme and maxims;
and therefore it was impossible for any set of men,
that did not give up themselves to be absolutely
directed by him, to please him, so as to carry him
along in all points : and thence it came to pass, that
he often in parliament acted a part by himself,
though in the main he stuck close to the country
party, and was their Cicero. He was no doubt an
enemy to all monarchical governments ; but I do
very well believe, his aversion to the English and
the union was so great, that in revenge to them he'd
have sided with the royal family. But as that was
a subject not fit to be entered on with him, this is
only a conjecture from some inuendoes I have heard
him make. So far is certain, he liked, commended,
and conversed with high-flying Tories more than any
other set of men, acknowledging them to be the best
countrj'men, and of most honour and integrity. To
sum up all, he was a learned, gallant, honest, and
every other way well accomplished gentleman; and
if ever a man proposes to serve and merit well of his
country, let him place his courage, zeal, and con-
stancy as a pattern before him, and think himself
sufficiently applauded and rewarded by obtaining the
character of being like Andrew Fletcher of Salton."
— Of the general truth of these descriptions we have
no doubt; but they are strongly coloured through a
national prejudice that was a principal defect in
Fletcher's own character. That he was an ardent
lover of liberty and of his country his whole life
bore witness; but he was of a temper so fiery and
ungovernable, and besides so excessively dogmatic,
that he was of little service as a coadjutor in carry-
ing on public aflairs. His shooting the mayor of
Lynn on a trifling dispute, and his collaring Lord

36

ANDREW FLETCHER

Stair in the j)arliament house for a word wluch he
thou,;j;ht rcflcctcil ujion him, showed a mind nut suffi-
ciently disciplined for the business of life; and his
national partialities clouded his otherwise perspica-
cious faculties, contracted his views, and rendered
his most philosophical speculations, and his most
ardent personal exertions, of little utility. Upon the
whole, he was a man, we think, rather to be admired
than imitated; and, like many other popular charac-
ters, owes his reputation to the defects, rather than
to the excellencies, of his character.

FLETCHER, Andrew, a distinguished judge,
under the designation of Lord Milton, and for many
years sous miiiistre of Scotland, under Archibald
Duke of Argyle, was a nephew of the subject of the
preceding memoir. His father, Henry Fletcher of
Salton, was the immediate younger brother of the
patriot, but, distinguished by none of the public spirit
of that individual, was only known as a good country
gentleman. The genius of Lord Milton appeared to
have been derived from his mother, who was a
daughter of Sir David Carnegy of Pitarrow, and
granddaughter of David Earl of Southesk. During
the troubles in which the family were involved, in
consequence of their liberal principles, this lady went
to Holland, taking with her a weaver and a mill-
wright, both men of genius and enterprise in their
respective departments, and by their means she
secretly obtained the art of weaving and dressing
the fine linen called HoUand, of which she established
the manufacture at Salton. Andrew, the son of this
extraordinary woman, was born in 1692, and edu-
cated for the bar. He was admitted advocate in
171 7, one of the lords of session in 1724, when only
thirty-two years of age, and lord justice-clerk, or
president of the criminal court, in 1735) which office,
on being appointed keeper of the signet in 1748, he
relinquished.

The acuteness of Lord Milton's understanding,
his judgment and address, and his intimate know-
ledge of the laws, customs, and temper of Scotland,
recommended him early to the notice and confidence
of Lord Hay, afterwards Duke of Argyle, who, under
Sir Robert Walpole and subsequent ministers, was
intrusted with the chief management of Scottish
affairs. As Lord Hay resided chiefly at the court,
he required a confidential agent in Scotland, who
might give him all necessary information, and act as
his guide in the dispensation of the government
patronage. In this capacity Lord Milton served for
a considerable number of years ; during which his
house was, in its way, r. kind of court, and himself
looked up to as a jierson little short of a king. It is
universally allowed that nothing could exceed the
discretion with which his lordship managed his deli-
cate and difficult duties; especially during the civil
war of 1745. Even the Jacobites admitted that they
owed many obligations to the humanity and good
sense of Lord Milton.

In February, 1746, when the Highland army had
retired to the north, and the Duke of Cumberland
arrived at Edinburgh to put himself at the head of
the forces in Scotland, he was indebted to Lord
Milton for the advice which induced him to march
northward in pursuit; without which proceeding the
war would probably have been protracted a con-
siderable time. After the suppression of the insur-
rection, Milton applied himself with immense zeal to
the grand design which he had chiefly at heart— the
promotion of commerce, manufactures, and agricul-
ture in his native country ; and it would be difficult
to estimate exactly the gratitude due to his memory
for his exertions towards that noble object. After a

-ALEXANDER FORBES.

truly useful and meritorious life of seventy- four years,
his lordship expired at his house of Brunstane, near
Musselburgh, on the 13th of December, 1766.

FORBES, Ai.KXANDER, Lord Pitsligo, was the
only son of Alexander, third Lord Pitsligo, and
Lady Sophia Erskine, daughter of John, ninth Earl
of Marr. He was born on the 22d of May, 1678,
and succeeded his father in his titles and estates in
1691, while yet a minor. He soon after went to
France ; and during his residence in that country,
embraced the opinions of Madame Guion, to whom
he had been introduced by Fenelon. On his return
to Scotland he took the oaths and his seat in par-
liament, and commenced his political career as an
oppositionist to the court party. He joined the
Duke of Athole in opposing the union; but on the
extension of the oath of abjuration to Scotland,
he withdrew from public business. A Jacobite in
principle, he took an active part in the rebellion of
1 71 5; but escaped attainder, though he found it
expedient to withdraw for a time to the Continent,
after the suppression of that ill-judged attempt. In
1720 he returned to his native country, and devoted
himself to the study of literature and the mystical
writings of the Quietists, at his castle of Pitsligo, in
Aberdeenshire. His age and infirmities, as well as
experience, might have prevailed upon him to abide
in silence the result of Prince Charles' enterprise in
1745; but, actuated by a sense of duty, he joined
that enterprise, and was the means, by his example,
of drawing many of the gentlemen of Aberdeenshire
into the tide of insurrection ; no one thinking he
could be wrong in taking the same course with a
man of so much prudence and sagacity. Lord
Pitsligo arrived at Holyrood House some time after
the battle of Prestonpans, and was appointed by
Prince Charles to command a troop of horse, chiefly
raised out of the Aberdeenshire gentry, and which
was called Pitsligo's regiment. He accompanied
the army through all its subsequent adventures, and
having survived the disastrous affair of Culloden,
was attainted by the government, and eagerly sought
for by its truculent emissaries. The subsequent life
of this unfortunate nobleman was a very extraordi-
nary one, as will appear from the following anec-
dotes, which we extract from a memoir of his lord-
ship published in connection with his Thoughts on
Midi's Condition, Edinburgh, 1829: —

"After the battle of Culloden, Lord Pitsligo con-
cealed himself for some time in the mountainous dis-
trict of the country, and a second time experienced
the kindly dispositions of the country people, even
the lowest, to misfortune. The country had been
much exhausted for the supply of the prince's army,
and the people who gave him shelter and protection
were extremely poor, yet they freely shared their
humble and scanty fare with the unknown stranger.
This fare was what is called -watcr-brose, that is, oat-
meal moistened with hot water, on which he chiefly
subsisted for some time; and when, on one occasion,
he remarked that its taste would be much improved
by a little salt, the reply was, 'Ay, man, but sa't's
touchy,' meaning it was too expensive an indulgence
for them. However, he was not always in such bad
quarters; for he was concealed for some days at the
house ofNewmiln, near Elgin, along with his friends,
Mr. Cummine of Pitullie, Mr. Irvine of Drum, and
Mr. Mercer of Aberdeen, where Mrs. King, Pitullie's
sister, herself made their beds, and waited upon
them.

"It was known in London that about the end of
April, 1 746, he was lurking about the coast of Buchan,
as it was supposed, with the view of finding an oppor-

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ALEXANDER FORBES.

37

tunity of making his escape to France; and it required
the utmost caution on his part to elude the search
tliat was made for him. To such an extremity was
he reduced, that he was actually obliged on one oc-
casion to conceal himself in a hollow place in the
earth, under the arch of a small bridge at Craigmaud,
upon his own estate, about nine miles up into the
country from Fraserburgh, and about two and a half
from where New Pitsligo now is, which was scarcely
large enough to contain him; and this most uncom-
fortable place seems to have been selected for his re-
treat just because there was little chance of detection,
as no one could conceive it possible that a human
being could be concealed in it. At this time he lay
sometimes in the daytime concealed in the mosses
near Craigmaud, and was much annoyed by the lap-
wings flying about the place, lest they should attract
notice to the spot, and direct those who were in
search of him in their pursuit.

"As yet, the estate of Pitsligo was not taken posses-
sion of by government, and Lady Pitsligo continued
to reside at the castle. Lord Pitsligo occasionally
paid secret visits to it in disguise. The disguise that
he assumed was that of a mendicant, and Lady Pit-
sligo's maid was employed to provide him with two
bags to put under his arms, after the fashion of the
Edie Ochiltrees of those days. He sat beside her
while she made them, and she long related with
wonder how cheerful he was while thus superintend-
ing this work which betokened the ruin of his fortune
and the forfeiture of his life.

"When walking out in his disguise one day, he
was suddenly overtaken by a party of dragoons
scouring the countrj' in pursuit of him. The increased
exertion, from his desire to elude them, brought on
a fit of asthmatic coughing which completely over-
powered him. He could proceed no further, and
was obliged to sit down by the road-side, where he
calmly waited their approach. The idea suggested
by his disguise and infirmity was acted upon, and, in
his character of a mendicant, he begged alms of the
dragoons who came to apprehend him. His calmness
and resignation did not forsake him, no perturbation
betrayed him, and one of the dragoons stopped, and,
with great kindness of heart, actually bestowed a
mite on the venerable old man, condoling with him
at the same time on the severity of his cough.

"On another occasion Lord Pitsligo had sought
and obtained shelter in a shoemaker's house, and
shortly after a party of dragoons were seen approach-
ing. Their errand was not doubtful; and the shoe-
maker, who had recognized the stranger, was in the
greatest trepidation, and advised him to put on one
of the workmen's aprons and some more of his clothes,
and to sit down on one of the stools and pretend to
be mending a shoe. The party came into the shop in
the course of their search; and the shoemaker, observ-
ing that the soldiers looked as if they thought the
hands of this workman were not very like those of
a practised son of King Crispin, and fearing that a
narrower inspection would betray him, with great
presence of mind gave orders to Lord Pitsligo, as if
he had been one of his workmen, to go to the door
and hold one of the horses, which he did accordingly.
His own composure and entire absence of hurry
allayed suspicion, and he escaped this danger. He
used afterwards jocularly to say, 'he had been at one
time a Buchan cobbler.'

"One of the narrowest escapes which he made
from discovery, when met in his mendicant's dress by
those who were in search of him, was attended with
circumstances which made the adventure singularly
romantic and interesting. At that time there lived
in that district of the country a fool called Sandy An-

nand, a well-known character. The kindly feelings
of the peasantry of Scotland to persons of weak in-
tellect are well known, and are strongly marked by
the name of 'the innocent,' which is given to them.
They are generally harmless creatures, contented
with the enjoyment of the sun and air as their highest
luxuries, and privileged to the hospitality of every
house, so far as their humble wants require. There
is often, too, a mixture of shrewdness with their folly,
and they are always singularly attached to those who
are kind to them. Lord Pitsligo, disguised as usual,
had gone into a house where the fool happened to be
at the time. He immediately recognized him, and
did not restrain his feelings as others did in the same
situation, but was busily employed in showing his
respect for his lordship in his own peculiar and gro-
tesque manner, expressing his great grief at seeing
him in such a fallen state, when a party entered the
house to search for him. They asked the fool who
was the person that he was lamenting thus? What a
moment of intense anxiety both to Lord Pitsligo and
the inmates of the house ! It was impossible to ex-
pect any other answer from the poor weak creature
but one which would betray the unfortunate noble-
man. Sandy, however, with that shrewdness which
men of his intellect often exhibit on the most trying
occasions, said, ' He kent him aince a muckle farmer,
but his sheep a' dee'd in the '40.' It was looked
upon as a special interposition of Providence which
put such an answer into the mouth of the fool.

"In March, 1756, and, of course, long after all
apprehension of a search had ceased, information
having been given to the commanding officer at Fraser-
burgh that Lord Pitsligo was at that moment in the
house of Auchiries, it was acted upon with so much
promptness and secrecy, that the search must have
proved successful but for a very singular occurrence.
Mrs. Sophia Donaldson, a lady who lived much with
the family, repeatedly dreamed on that particular night
that the house was surrounded by soldiers. Her mind
became so haunted with the idea, that she got out of
bed, and was walking through the room in hopes of
giving a different current to her thoughts before she
lay down again, when, day beginning to dawn, she
accidentally looked out at the window as she passed
it in traversing the room, and was astonished at ac-
tually observing the figures of soldiers among some
trees near the house. So completely had all idea of
a search been by that time laid asleep, that she sup-
posed they had come to steal poultrj' — ^Jacobite poultry
yards affording a safe object of pillage for the English
soldiers in those days. Under this impression Mrs.
Sophia was proceeding to rouse the servants, when
her sister having awakened, and inquired what was
the matter, and being told of soldiers near the house,
exclaimed in great alarm that she feared they wanted
something more than hens. She begged Mrs. So-
phia to look out at a window on the other side of the
house, when not only soldiers were seen in that
direction, but also an officer giving instructions by
signals, and frequently putting his fingers on his lips,
as if enjoining silence. There was now no time to
be lost in rousing the family; and all the haste that
could be made was scarcely sufficient to hurry the
venerable man from his bed into a small recess
behind the wainscot of an adjoining room, which
was concealed by a bed, in which a lady. Miss Gor-
don of Towie, who was there on a visit, lay before
the soldiers obtained admission. A most minute
search took place. The room in which Lord Pit-
sligo was concealed did not escape. Miss Gordon's
bed was carefully examined, and she was obliged to
suffer the rude scrutiny of one of the party by feeling
her chin, to ascertain that it was not a man in a

38

DUNCAN FORBES.

lady's night-dress. Before the soldiers had finished
their examination in this room, the confinement and
anxiety increased Lord Pitsligo's asthma so much,
and his breathing became so loud, that it cost
Miss Gordon, lying in bed, much and violent cough-
ing, which she counterfeited in order to prevent the
high breathings behind the wainscot from being
heard. It may easily be conceived what agony she
would sufTer, lest, by overdoing her part, she should
increase suspicion and in fact lead to a discovery.
The ruse was fortunately successful. On the search
through the house being given over. Lord Pitsligo
was hastily taken from his confined situation, and
again placed in bed; and as soon as he was able to
speak, his accustomed kindness of heart made him
say to his servant, 'James, go and see that these
poor fellows get some breakfast, and a drink of warm
ale, for this is a cold morning; they are only doing
their duty, and cannot bear me any ill will.' When
the family were felicitating each other on his escape,
he pleasantly observed, 'A poor prize, had they ob-
tained it — an old dying man.'"

After this he resided constantly at Auchiries, over-
looked, or at least unmolested, by the government,
till the 2ist of December, 1762, when he breathed
his last in peace, in the eighty-fifth year of his age.
He left behind him a work entitled. Thoughts con-
cerning Man^s Condition and Duties in this Life, and
his Hopes in the World to Come, the production evi-
dently of a calm and highly devotional mind, but
nowise remarkable in other respects.

FORBES, Duncan, a man whose memory is
justly entitled to the veneration of his country, was
born at Bunchrew, in the neighbourhood of Inverness,
on the loth of November, 1685. His great-grand-
father, Duncan Forbes, was of the family of Lord
Forbes, through that of Tolquhoun, and purchased
the barony of CuUoden from the laird of Mackintosh
in 1625. His great-grandmother was Janet Forbes,
of the family of Corsindy, also descended from Lord
Forbes. But this early patriot was not more dis-
tinguished for honourable descent, than for public
spirit and nobility of conduct during the struggle
for religion and liberty that marked the reign of
Charles I. , in which he took a decided part against
the court; and, being a member of parliament, and
lord-provost of Inverness, must have been a partisan
of no small consequence. He died in 1654, leaving
his estate to his eldest son, John, who inherited his
offices as well as his principles. Having acted in
concert with the Marquis of Argyle, he was, upon
the Restoration, excepted from the act of indemnity,
and had a large share of the barbarous inflictions
which disgraced the reign of the restored despot.
He somehow, however, contrived . to accumulate
money, and about the year 1670 doubled his landed
estate by jiurchasing the Ijarony of Ferintosh and the
estate of Bunchrew. He die<l a little before the
Revolution, leaving, by his wife, Ann Dunbar, a
(laughter of Dunbar of Ilemprigs, in the county of
Moray, a large family, and was succeeded by his
eldest son, Duncan, who had received a liberal edu-
cation on the Continent, by which he was eminently
qualified for performing a conspicuous part in that
most auspicious of modern transactions. He was a
member of the convention parliament, a decitled
Presbyterian, and strongly condemned those tem-
porizing measures which clogged the wheels of
government at the time, and in consequence of which
many of the national grievances remained afterwards
unredressed. He was, of course, highly obnoxious
to the Jacobites, who, under Buchan and Cannon, in
1689, ravaged his estates of Culloden and Ferintosh;

destroying, particularly in the latter district, where
distillation was even then carried on upon an exten-
sive scale, property to the amount of ;^54,ooo Scots.
In consequence of this immense loss, the Scottish
parliament granted him a peq^etual license to distil,
duty free, the whole grain that might be raised in
the barony of Ferintosh, a valuable privilege, by
which Ferintosh very soon became the most popu-
lous and wealthy district in the north of Scotland.
He died in 1704, leaving, by his wife, Mary Innes,
daughter to the laird of Innes, two sons: John, who
succeeded him in his estates; and Duncan, the sub-
ject of this memoir; besides several daughters.

Of the early habits or studies of Duncan Forbes,
afterwards lord-president, little has been recorded.
The military profession is said to have been the
object of his first choice, influenced by the example
of his uncle John Forbes, who was a lieutenant-
colonel in the army. He had also an uncle eminent
in the law, Sir David Forbes of Newhall, and,
whether influenced by his example or not, we find
that he entered upon the study of that science at
Edinburgh, in the chambers of Professor Spottiswood,
in the year that his father died, 1704. The univer-
sity of Edinburgh had as yet attained nothing of that
celebrity by which it is now distinguished, its teachers
being few in number, and by no means remarkable
for acquirements; of course, all young Scotsmen of
fortune, especially for the study of law, were sent to
the Continent. Bourges had long been famous for
this species of learning, and at that university Scots-
men had been accustomed to study. Leyden, how-
ever, had now eclipsed it, and at that famous seat of
learning Duncan Forbes took up his residence in
1705. Here he pursued his studies for two years
with the most unremitting diligence; having, besides
the science of law, made no inconsiderable progress
in the Hebrew and several other oriental languages.
He returned to Scotland in 1707, where he continued
the study of Scottish law till the summer of 1709,
when he was, upon the 26th of July, admitted an
advocate, being in the twenty-fourth year of his age.

The closest friendship had all along subsisted be-
tween the families of Argyle and Culloden; and the
former, being at this time in the zenith of power,
displayed its fidelity by bestowing upon Mr. Forbes,
as soon as he had taken his place at the bar, the
respectable appointment of sheriff of Mid-Lothian.
The duke and his brother the Earl of Hay, from the
very outset of his career, intioisted him with the
management of their Scottish estates, which he is
said frankly to have undertaken, though, from pro-
fessional delicacy, he declined receiving anything in
the shape of fee or reward, for services which ought
to have brought him some hundreds a year.

Mr. Forbes, from his first appearance at the bar,
was distinguished for the depth of his judgment, the
strength of his eloquence, and the extent of his prac-
tice, which was such as must have precluded him
from performing anything like the duties of a mere
factor, which the above statement evidently supposes.
That he gave his opinion generally, when asked,
upon the modes that ought to be adopted for im-
proving the value of his grace's property, and the
comfort of his vassals in the Highlands, there can be
no doubt; for he continued to do this, not only to
the duke, but to his neighbours generally, even after
the highest duties of the judge had devolved upon
him; and this was probably the utmost extent of his
concern with the Argyle estate at any period of his
life. That he was in a high degree generous, there
cannot be a doubt; but we see no reason for suppos-
ing that he was in the habit of employing his legal
talents gratuitously. He was but a younger brother,

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DUNXAN FORBES.

39

and is said to have lost the greater part of his little
patrimony by an unguarded or an unfortunate specu-
lation; yet it is certain that he lived in a splendid and
rather expensive manner, the first wits and the highest
noblemen of the age finding their enjoyments height-
ened by his company; and it is equally certain that
the fruits of his professional toil were all that he
could depend upon for supporting a spirit that
breathed nothing but honour, and a state that knew
nothing but the most stubborn independence. His
business, however, rapidly rose with his rising re-
putation, and his fortune probably kept pace with
his fame, and he very soon added to his domestic
felicity, by forming a matrimonial connection with
Mary Rose, daughter to the laird of Kilravock, to
whom he had been warmly attached almost from her
earliest infancy.' She was a lady of great beauty,
and highly accomplished; but she died not long after
th-'ir marriage, leaving him an only son, John, who
eventually succeeded to the estate of Culloden. The
early demise of this lady, for whom Mr. Forbes
seems to have had more than an ordinary passion,
deeply affected him, and he never again entered into
the married state.

Domestic calamity, operating upon a keen sensi-
bility, has often withered minds of great promise,
and cut off the fairest prospects of future usefulness.
Happily, however, Mr. Forbes did not resign him-
self to solitude and the indulgence of unavailing
sorrow. The circumstances of his family, and of his
country, in both of which he felt a deep interest, did
not indeed allow him to do so, had he been willing.
The violence of party had been very great ever since
the Revolution: it had latterly been heightened by
the Union, and had reached nearly its acme at this
time, when the unexpected death of the queen opened
the way for the peaceable accession of the new
dynasty.

With a very few exceptions, such as the Grants,
the Monroes, and the Rosses, who had been gained
over by the Forbeses of Culloden, the Highland
clans were engaged to devote their lives and fortunes
in behalf of the expatriated house of Stuart; and only
waited for an opportunity of asserting the cause of
the Pretender. The loyal clans, and gentlemen, and
particularly Forbes of Culloden, were of course
highly obnoxious to the Jacobite clans; and, for their
own preservation, were obliged to be continually on
the watch, and frequently saw the brooding of the
storm, when others apprehended no danger. This
was eminently the case in the year after the accession
of the house of Brunswick; and, accordingly, so early
as the month of February, we find Monro of Fowlis
writing to Culloden: — "I find the Jacobites are werie
uppish, both in Edinburgh and in England, so that,
if ye go to the parliament, as I hope ye will, you will
recommend to some trusty, faithful friend, to take
care of your house of Culloden, and leave orders
with your people at Ferintosh, to receive directions
from me, or from your cousin George (my son), as
you are pleased to call him, which you may be sure
will be calculate to the support of your interest, in
subordination to the public cause;" — and he adds, in
a postscript to the same letter, — " The vanity, in-
solence, arrogance, and madness of the Jacobites
is beyond all measure insupportable. I believe they
must be let blood. They still have the trick of pre-
suming upon the lenity of a moderate government.
It seems God either destines them for destruction,
or infatuates others to allow them to be pricks in our
sides and thorns in our eyes. I have accounts from

' Her husband is said to have composed, in her honour, the
beautiful Scottish song, Ah, ClilorU.

very good hands from Edinburgh, that, to their cer-
tain knowledge, saddles were making in that city for
dragoons to serve the Pretender, and that all the
Popish lords, and very many Popish and Jacobite
gentlemen, are assembled there now; so that all
iriends and loyal subjects to his present majesty are
advised to be upon their guard from thence against
an invasion or an insurrection, which is suddenly
expected, which the Jacobites expect will interrupt
the meeting of the parliament." In the month of
March, the same year, Culloden, writing to his
brother, the subject of this memoir, has the fol-
lowing observation: — " Vou say you have no news;
but we abound with them in this country. The
Pretender is expected ever)' moment, and his friends
all ready; but since our statesmen take no notice of
this, I let it alone, and wish they may not repent
it when they cannot help it. " Culloden was returned
a member of parliament, and went up the following
month (April) to London, whence he again writes
to his brother as follows: — "As for your Highland
neighbours, their trusts and meetings, I know not
what to say; I wish we be not too secure: I can
assure you the Tories here were never higher in their
looks and hopes, which they found upon a speedy
invasion. ^Vhatever be in the matter, let things be
so ordered, that my house be not surprised."

Had those who were intrusted with the government
been equally sharp-sighted, much of the evil that
ensued might undoubtedly have been prevented; but
they were so intent upon their places, and the pursuit
of little, low intrigues, that they were caught by the
insurrection, in Scotland at least, as if it had been
a clap of thunder in a clear day. John Forbes's
direction, however, must have been attended to; for,
when his house was surrounded by the insurgents,
under Mackenzie of Coul, and Macintosh, with their
retainers, his wife refused all accommodation with
them, saying, with the spirit of an ancient Roman,
"She had received the keys of the house, and the
charge of all that was in it, from her husband, and
she would deliver them up to no one but himself."
In the absence of his brother, Duncan Forbes dis-
played, along with Hugh Rose of Kilravock, the
most indefatigable zeal, and great judgment in the
disposal of the men they could command, who were
chiefly the retainers of Culloden, Kilravock, Culcairn,
and the Grants, and by the assistance of Lord Lovat
and the Erasers finally triumphed over the insurgents
in that quarter. Nothing, indeed, could excel the
spirit displayed by the two brothers of Culloden, the
eldest of whom, John, spent on the occasion upwards
of ;i^3ooo sterling out of his own pocket for the
public service ; of which, to the disgrace of the
British government, he never received in repayment
one single farthing.

Though they were ardent for the cause of religion
and liberty, and zealous in the hour of danger, yet,
when that was over, the two brothers strongly felt
the impropriety of tarnishing the triumphs of order
and liberality by a violent and vindictive inquisition
into the conduct of persons, for whom so many cir-
cumstances conspired to jjlead, if not for mercy, at
least for a candid construction of their motives. As
a Scotsman and lawyer, Duncan Forbes was averse
to the project of carrying the prisoners out of the
country to be tried by juries of foreigners, and he
wrote to Lord Hay, when he heard of a design to
appoint him lord-advocate, in order to carrv' on these
prosecutions, that he was determined to refuse that
employment. He also wrote to his brother in be-
half of a contribution for the poor prisoners who had
been carried to Carlisle, and were there waiting for
trial. "It is certainly Christian," says he, "and by

4p

DUNCAN FORBES.

no means disloyal, to sustain them in their indigent
state until they are found guilty. The law has
brought them to England to be tried by foreign
juries — so far it is well — but no law can hinder a
Scotsman to wish that his countrymen, not hitherto
condemned, should not be a derision to strangers,
or perish for want of necessary defence or sustenance
out of their own country." To the forfeitures he
was also decidedly hostile, and some of his reasons
for this hostility threw a particular light upon the
state of Scotland at that period. "There are," he
says, "none of the rebels who have not friends
among the king's faithful subjects, and it is not easy
to guess how far a security of this kind, unnecessarily
pushed, may alienate the affections even of these
from the government. But in particular, as this
relates to Scotland, the difficulty will be insurmount-
able. I may venture to say, there are not two hun-
dred gentlemen in the whole kingdom who are not
very nearly related to some one or other of the rebels.
Is it possible that a man can see his daughter, his
grandchildren, his nephews, or cousins, reduced to
beggary and starving unnecessarily by a government,
without thinking very ill of it? and where this is the
case of a whole nation, I tremble to think what dis-
satisfactions it will produce against a settlement so
necessary for the happiness of Britain. If all the
rebels, with their wives and children and immediate
dependants, could be at once rooted out of the earth,
the shock would be astonishing ; but time would
commit it to oblivion, and the danger would be less
to the constitution than when thousands of innocents,
punished with misery and want for the offences of
their friends, are suffered to wander about the country
sighing out their complaints to Heaven, and drawing
at once the compassion and moving the indignation
of every human creature." "To satisfy," he adds,
"any person that the forfeitures in Scotland will
scarce defray the charges of the commission, if the
saving clause in favour of the creditors takes place,
I offer but two considerations that, upon inquiry,
will be found incontestable. First, it is certain, that
of all the gentlemen who launched out into the
late rebellion, the tenth man was not easy in his
circumstances, and if you abate a dozen of gentlemen,
the remainder, upon paying their debts, could not
produce much money clear; nor was there anything
more open to observation, than that the men of
estates, however disaffected in their principles, kept
themselves within the law, when at the same time
men supposed loyal, in hopes of bettering their low
fortunes, broke loose. Besides, it is known that the
titles by which almost all the estates in Scotland are
possessed are diligences upon debts affecting those
estates purchased in the proprietors' own name or
in that of some trustee: now, it is certain, that when
the commissioners of inquiry begin to seize such
estates, besides the debts truly due to real creditors,
such a number of latent debts will be trumped up,
not distinguishable from the true ones by any else
than the proprietors, as will make the inquiry fruit-
less and the commission a charge upon the treasury,
as well as a nuisance to the nation.

Such were the arguments, drawn from expediency
and the state of the country, by which forbearance
on the part of the government was recommended by
this excellent man, though it appears that they had
little effect but to excite a suspicion of his own loyalty.
In spite of all this, his character made him too
powerful to be resisted. In 1716 he was rewarded
for his services by the office of advocate-depute; that
is, he became one of the inferior prosecutors for the
crown. On the 20th of March he is found writing
thus to his principal, the lord-advocate: — "Yester-

day I was qualified, the Lord knows how, as your
depute. The justice-clerk shows a grim sort of
civility towards me, because he finds me plagitey
stubborn. I waited upon him, however, and on the
other lords, to the end they might fix on a dyet for
the tryall of the Episcopall clergy. The justice-clerk
does not smile on their prosecution, because it is not ^
his own contrivance; and declared it could not come
on sooner than the first of June; but I told him that
if, as I understood was designed, the May circuit were
suspended this year by act of parliament, I would
require his lordship to assign a dyet sooner." In
1722, with the acquiescence of the ministry, he was
returned to sit in parliament for the Inverness district
of burghs; and in 1725 he obtained the high and
responsible appointment of lord-advocate. As the
office of secretary of state for Scotland was at this
time discontinued, it became part of his duty to
carry on with his majesty's ministers, the correspon-
dence regarding the improvements necessary to be
made in her civil establishments, which he did in a
manner highly creditable to himself, and with the
happiest effect for his country. The year in which
he was appointed lord-advocate was marked by the
introduction of the malt-tax into Scotland, and the
mob at Glasgow, known by the name of Shawfield's
rabble, by which its introduction was attended.
This was a riot of a very scandalous character (the
magistrates of the city being deeply implicated in
fomenting it), in which nine persons were killed out-
right, and the soldiers, who had been brought from
Edinburgh for its suppression, were chased out of the
city, and were glad to take refuge in Dumbarton
Castle. General Wade, who was in Edinburgh at
the time, on his way to the Highlands, was imme-
diately ordered to Glasgow with all the troops he
could muster, and he was accompanied by the lord-
advocate in person, who first committed the whole
of the magistrates to their own tolbooth, and after-
wards, under a strong guard, sent them to Edinburgh,
where they were thrown into the common jail, and
it was certainly intended to proceed against them
before the justiciary court. Doubts, however, were
entertained of the legality of the proceedings, and
whether the lord-advocate had not exceeded his
powers in committing the whole magistracy of a city,
upon the warrant of a justice of peace, to their own
jail; public feeling at the same time recovering
strongly in their favour, they were by the justiciary
admitted to bail, nor was their case ever again
called.

In 1734 he lost his brother, John Forbes, in con-
sequence of whose death he fell heir to the extensive
and valuable estate of Culloden. In 1 736 a disgrace-
ful affair, termed the Porteous mob, occurred in
Edinburgh, in consequence of which it was resolved
to deprive the city of her privileges. Mr. Forbes,
on this occasion, exerted himself to the utmost in
behalf of the city, and was successful in procuring
many modifications to be made upon the bill before
it passed the two houses of parliament. When we
contemplate the condition of Scotland in those days,
we scarcely know whether to wonder most at the
good which Forbes was able to achieve, or the means
by which he accomplished it. The period might
properly be called the dark age of Scottish history,
though it contained, at the same time, the germs of
all the good that has since sprung up in the land.
The pretensions of the house of Stuart were univer-
sally received, either with favour from direct affection
to their cause, or at least without disfavour, the re-
sult of a justifiable disgust at the political status into
which the country had been thrown by the union,
and the unpopularity of the two first Brunswick

DUNCAN FORBES.

41

princes. The commencement of a strict system of
general taxation was new; while the miserable poverty
of the country rendered it unproductive and unpopu-
lar. The great families still lorded it over their de-
pendants, and exercised legal jurisdiction within their
own domains, by which the general police of the
kingdom was crippled, and the grossest local oppres-
sion practised. The remedy adopted for all these
evils, which was to abate nothing and to enforce
everything, under the direction of English counsels
and of Englishmen, completed the national wretched-
ness, and infused its bitterest ingredient into the brim-
ful cup. How Forbes got his views or his character
amidst such a scene, from the very heart of the very
worst part of which he came, it is difficult to conceive;
for with only one or two occasional exceptions, his
papers prove that he had scarcely an associate, either
in his patriotic toils or enjoyments.^ However, it is
sometimes true in the political, as it generally is in
the commercial world, that supply is created by de-
mand; and the very degradation of the country held
out an immense reward to the man who should raise
it up. No man, especially the hired servant of a
disputed monarchy, could have achieved this work,
except one whose heart was as amiable as his judg-
ment was sound, and whose patriotism was as pure
as it was strong. Forbes cultivated all these quali-
ties, and not only directed the spirit of the nation,
but conciliated its discordant members with a degree
of skill that was truly astonishing.

The leading objects of his official and parliamentary
life were suggested to him by the necessities of the
country, and they are thus ably summed up in the
work just quoted: —

1. To extinguish the embers of rebellion, by gain-
ing over the Jacobites. He did not try to win them,
however, in the ordinary way in which alleged rebels
are won; but by showing them what he called the

folly of their designs, by seeking their society, by ex-
cluding them from no place for which their talents
or characters gave them a fair claim, and, above all,
by protecting them from proscription. It is delight-
ful to perceive how much this policy, equally the
dictate of his heart and of his head, made him be
consulted and revered even by his enemies; and how
purely he kept his private affections open to good
men, and especially to old friends, in spite of all
political acrimony or alienation. He derived from
this habit one satisfaction, which seems to have
greatly diverted him, that of being occasionally abused
by both sides, and sometimes suspected of secret
Jacobitism by his own party.

2. Having thus, by commanding universal esteem
as an upright and liberal man, enabled himself to do
something for the country at large, his next object
seems to have been, to habituate the people to the
equal and regular control of the laws. It may ap-
pear at first sight unnecessary or inglorious to have
Ijcen reduced to labour for an end so essential and
obvious in all communities as this. But the state
of Scotland must be recollected. The provincial
despotism of the barons was common and horrid.
Old Lovat, for example, more than once writes to
him, as lord-advocate, not to trouble himself about
certain acts of violence done in his neighbourhood,
because he was very soon to take vengeance with his
own hands.

Nor was this insubordination confined to indivi-
duals or to the provinces, for it seems to have ex-
tended to the capital, and to have touched the seats

' We here pursue a train of remarks in the Edinburgh
Review of the CuUoden papers, an ample collection of the
letters, &c., of the lord-president, published in 1816,

of justice. There is a letter from Forbes to Mr.
Scroope, in the year 1732, in which he complains
"that it would surely provoke any man living, as it
did me, to see the last day of our term in exchequer.
The effect of every verdict we recovered from the
crown, stopped upon the triflingest pretences that
false popularity and want of sense could suggest.
If some remedy be not found for this evil we must
shut up shop. It's a pity, that when we have argued
the juries out of their mistaken notices of popularity,
the behaviour of the court should give any handle to
their relapsing." He persevered to prevent this by
argument, and by endeavouring to get the laws, es-
pecially those concerning the revenue, altered, so as
to be less unacceptable to the people.

It is chiefly on account of his adherence to this
principle, that it is important to notice this subject
as a distinct part of his system. If he had been dis-
posed to govern, as is usual in turbulent times, by
mere force, he had pretences enough to have made
scarlet uniforms deform every hamlet in the kingdom
— but, except when rebellion or riot was raging, we
cannot discover from his papers that he ever, on
any one occasion, required any other assistance ex-
cept the ordinary authority of which law is always
possessed, when administered fairly. He rigidly in-
vestigated, though he did not severely punish, popu-
lar outrages; but he was unsparing in his prosecution
of the provincial injustice by which the people were
generally oppressed. The consequence of this was,
that he not only introduced a comparative state of
good order, but made his name a sanction that what-
ever he proposed was right, and that in him the
injured was sure to find a friend. When Thomas
Rawlinson, an Englishman who was engaged in a
mining concern in Glengarry (and who by-the-bye
is said to have been the first person who introduced
the philibeg into the Highlands), had two of his ser-
vants murdered by the natives there, the lord-advo-
cate was the only individual to whom it ever occurred
to him to apply for protection. But his power in
thus taming the people can only be fairly estimated
by perceiving how universally he was feared by the
higher ranks, as the certain foe of all sorts of partial,
sinister, unfair, or illiberal projects. Few men ever
wrote, or were written to, with less idea of publica-
tion than he. His correspondence has only come
accidentally to light about seventy years after his
death. Yet we have not been able to detect a single
one of his advices or proceedings, by the exposure
of which even a private gentleman of the most
delicate honour and the most reasonable views,
would have cause to feel a moment's uneasiness.
On the contrary, though living in ferocious times —
in public life — the avowed organ of a party — and
obliged to sway his country by managing its greatest
and greediest families, he uniformly maintains that
native gentleness and fairness of mind with which it
is probable that most of the men who are afterwards
hardened into corruption, begin, and resolve to con-
tinue their career. How many other public men are
there, of whose general correspondence above 500
letters could be published indiscriminately, without
alarming themselves if they were alive, or their friends
if they were dead?

Having thus freed himself from the shackles of
party, and impressed all ranks with a conviction of
the necessity of sinking their subordinate contests in
a common respect for the law, his next great view
seems to have been, to turn this state of security to
its proper account, in improving the trade and agri-
culture of the kingdom. Of these two sources of
national wealth, the last seems to have engaged the
smallest portion of his attention; and it was perhaps

42

DUN'CAN FORBES.

natural that it should do so. For, though agricul-
ture precedes manufactures in the order of things,
yet, for this very reason, that the cultivation of the
land has gone on for ages, it is only in a more ad-
vanced era of refinement that the attention of legis-
lators is called to tlie resources it supplies and the
virtues it inspires. Uut projectors are immediately
attracted towards improvements in manufactures,
which are directly convenient by employing industry,
and highly captivating, because their commencement
and growth can be distinctly traced ; so that they
appear more the result of preparation and design
than agriculture does; as to which, one generation
seems only to follow the example of another, in
passively taking what the scarcely assisted powers
of nature give. Several efforts at trade had been
made by Scotland before Forbes appeared; but it
was both the cause and the evidence of the national
poverty, that, slender as they were, they had failed,
and that their failure almost extinguished the com-
mercial hopes of the people. He was no sooner
called into public life, than he saw what trade, chiefly
internal, could do, by giving employment to the
hordes of idlers who infested the country, by in-
teresting proprietors in the improvement of their
estates, and by furnishing the means both of pay-
ing and of levying taxes, and thereby consolidat-
ing the whole island into one compact body, in-
stead of keeping the northern part a burden on the
southern.

His exertions in prosecution of this great object
were long and unceasing. We cannot enter here
into any details ; and therefore we shall only state,
in general, that he appears to have made himself
master of the nature and history of almost every
manufacture, and to have corresponded largely both
with the statesmen, the philosophers, and the mer-
chants of his day, about the means of introducing
them into Scotland. The result was that he not
only planted the roots of those establishments which
are now flourishing all over the country, but had the
pleasure (as he states in a memorial to government)
of seeing "a commendable spirit of launching into
new branches " excited. He was so successful in
this way, that the manufactures of Scotland are
called, by more than one of his correspondents, "his
ain bairns ;" — an expression which he himself uses in
one of his letters to Mr. Scroope, in which he says
that one of his jMoposals "was disliked by certain
chiefs, from its being a child of mine. "

Notwithstanding the immense good which he thus
accomplished, and the great judgment and forbear-
ance he evinced in furthering his improvements, it is
amusing to observe the errors into which he fell
with respect to what are now some of the clearest
principles of taxation and of political economy.
These, in general, were the common errors of too
much regulation, errors which it requires the firmest
hold of the latest discoveries in these sciences to re-
sist, and which were peculiarly liable to beset a man
who had been obliged to do so much himself in the
way of direction and planning. One example may
suffice, being the strongest we have been able to
find. In order to encourage agriculture by promot-
ing the use of malt, he presented to government a
long detailed scheme for preventing, or rather punish-
ing, the use of tea.

"The cause," says he, "of the mischief we com-
plain of is evidently the excessive use of tea; which
is now become so common, that the meanest families,
even of labouring people, particularly in boroughs,
make their morning's meal of it, and thereby wholly
disuse the ale which heretofore was their accustomed
drink: and the same drug supplies all the labouring

women with their afternoon's entertainments, to the
exclusion of the twopenny."

The remedy for this is, to impose a prohibitory
duty on tea, and a penalty on those who shall use
this seducing poison, "if they belong to that class of
mankind in this country whose circumstances do
not permit them to come at tea that pays the duty."
The obvious difficulty attending this scheme strikes
him at once, and he removes it by a series of provi-
sions calculated to describe those who are within the
tea line, and those who are beyond it. The essence
of the system is, that when any person is suspected,
"the o)ins probandi of the extent of his yearly income
may be laid on him;" and that his own oath may
be demanded, and that of the prosecutor taken.
"These provisions," the worthy author acknowledges,
"are pretty severe;" and most of his readers may be
inclined to think them pretty absurd. But it must
be recollected that he is not the only person (espe-
cially about his own time, when the first duty of a
statesman was to promote the malt-tax) who has
been eloquent and vituperative on the subject of this
famous plant. Its progress, on the contrary, has been
something like the progress of truth: suspected at
first, though very palatable to those who had cour-
age to taste it; resisted as it encroached; abused as
its popularity seemed to spread; and establishing its
triumph at last, in cheering the whole land, from the
palace to the cottage, only by the slow and resistless
efforts of time and its own virtues. Nor are the pro-
visions for enforcing his scheme so extraordinary as
may at first sight appear. The object of one half of
our existing commercial regulations is to insure the
use of our own produce and the encouragement of
our own industry; and his personal restrictions, and
domiciliary visits, are utterly harmless when com-
pared with many excise regulations of the present
day; and still more so when contrasted with certain
parts of the earlier system for levying the tax upon
property. We have noticed this example chiefly for
the sake of showing that Forbes's views were as
sound upon these subjects as those of the persons by
whom he has been succeeded, and that if we could
oftener withdraw our eyes from the objects of their
habitual contemplation we should oftener see the
folly of many things, which appear to us correct
merely because they are common.

Being appointed president of the Court of Session
in 1737, he applied himself with great zeal to a duty
which has conferred lasting service on his country,
that of improving the regulations of his court. Pre-
viously the chief judge, by having it in his power to
postpone a cause, or to call it at his pleasure, was
enabled sometimes to choose a particular time for its
decision, when certain judges whom he knew to have
made up their minds were absent. Forbes put an
end to this flagrant error in the constitution of the
court, by rendering it impossible for the judges to
take up a case except as it stood on the roll. He
also exerted himself to prevent any accumulation of
undetermined causes.

The character of the Highlanders, and the improve-
ment of the Highlands, had all along been objects
of the first magnitude with the lord-president, nor
did he lose sight of them when his elevation to the
first place in Scottish society brought him to be con-
versant with others equally important. Viewing the
aspect of the political horizon, and aware that the
clans, in such times as appeared to be approaching,
could scarcely fail to fall into the hands of political
agitators, he digested a plan (the very same for which
Chatham received so much applause for carrying into
effect) for embodying the most disaffected of them
into regiments, under colonels of tried loyalty, but

DUNCAN FORBES.

43

officered by their own chieftains, who would thus be
less liable to be tampered with by the emissaries of
the Stuarts, and be insensibly led to respect an order
of things which, it might be presumed, they disliked
chiefly because they did not comprehend it, and from
which, as yet, they did not suppose they had derived
any benefit. This proposal the lord-president com-
municated to the lord justice-clerk, ^Iilton, who re-
ported it to Lord Hay, by whom it was laid before
Sir Robert Walpole, who at once comprehended
and admired it. When, however, he laid it before
the council, recommending it to be carried into im-
mediate effect, the council declared unanimously
against it. "Were the plan of the Scottish judge,"
said they, "adopted, what would the patriots say?
Would they not exclaim. Sir Robert Walpole had
all along a design upon the constitution? lie has
already imposed upon us a standing army, in addi-
tion to which he is now raising an army of barba-
rians, for the sole purpose of enslaving the people of
England." Walpole was too well acquainted with
the temper of the patriots, as they called themselves,
not to feel the full force of this reasoning; and the
measure was given up, though he was fully convinced
that it was conceived in wisdom, and would have
been infallibly successful in its operation.

Though his advice was neglected, the event showed
that his suspicions were well founded. The disturbed
state of Europe encouraged the Jacobites, particularly
in the Highlands, to sign an association for the re-
storation of the Pretender, which was sent to him at
Rome, in the year 1742. During the following
years there was a perpetual passing and repassing
between the court of France, the Pretender, and the
association, without the knowledge of the most vigi-
lant observers on the part of the government. So
cautiously, indeed, did the Highland chieftains con-
duct themselves, that even the lord-president, who
was intimately acquainted with their characters and
propensities, seems to have been perfectly unaware
of any immediate rising, when he was acqiiainted by
a letter from Macleod of jNIacleod, that Charles was
actually arrived, and had by young Clanronald sum-
moned himself and Sir Alexander Macdonald to join
his standard. The truth was, both Macleod and
Macdonald had pledged themselves to Prince Charles;
but a French anny to accompany him, and military
stores, were positive parts of the engagement, which,
not being fulfilled, led them to hesitate, and they
were willing to fortify their hesitation by the advice
of the president; whom they had long found to be an
excellent counsellor, and whose views upon the sub-
ject they were probably anxious in a covert way to
ascertain. Macleod of course wrote to the president
that such a person was on the coast, with so many
Irish or French officers, stating them greatly beyond
the real number, and he adds, " His views, I need
not tell you, was to raise all the Highlands to assist
him. Sir Alexander Macdonald and I not only gave
no sort of countenance to these people, but we used
all the interest we had with our neighbours to follow
the same prudent method, and I am persuaded we
have done it with that success, that not a man north
of the Grampians will give any sort of assistance to
this mad rebellious attempt. As it can be of no use
to the public to know whence you have this informa-
tion, it is, I fancy, needless to mention either of us;
but this we leave in your own breast, as you are a
much better judge of what is or what is not proper
to be done. I have wrote to none other, and as our
friendship and confidence in you is without reserve,
so we doubt not of your supplying our defects pro-
perly. Sir Alexander is here and has seen this scrawl.
Young Clanronald has been here with us, and has

given us all possible assurances of his prudence."
The above letter was dated August 3d, 1745, ^^d
speaks of Charles as only on the coast, though he
had in reality landed, and the assurance of young
Clanronald's prudence was a perfect farce. It was
indeed, for obvious reasons, the aim of the rebels to
lull the friends of government in their fatal security,
and we have no doubt that Clanronald, acting upon
this principle, gave the assurance to Macleod and
Macdonald for the very purpose of being communi-
cated to the lord-president, and it has been supposed
that the misstatements in this letter laid the founda-
tion for that pernicious counsel which sent Sir John
Cope to the north, leaving the low country open to
Charles, in consequence of which he overcame at
once the most serious difficulties he had to contend
with — want of provisions and want of money, made
himself master of the capital of Scotland, and, to the
astonishment of himself as well as of all Europe,
penetrated into the very heart of England.

Being now certain that there was danger, though
its extent was cautiously concealed from him, the
lord-president, after pointing out to the Marquis of
Tweeddale, who at that time was a principal man-
ager in Scottish affairs, a few things necessary to be
done in order to give full effect to his exertions, has-
tened to the north, and arrived at Culloden House
on the 13th of August, six days before Charles un-
furled his standard in Glenfinnan, and while many
of his most devoted admirers were yet at a great loss
whether to come forward to his assistance, or to re-
main undeclared till circumstances should enable
them more accurately to calculate probabilities. To
all these nothing could have been more unwelcome
than the presence of the lord-president, to whom
they, almost to a man, were under personal obliga-
tions. Lovat waited upon and dined with his lord-
ship the very day after his arrival, and requested his
advice, assuring him that his wishes, as well as his
interest, still led him to support the present royal
family. Macleod of Macleod and Sir Alexander
Macdonald of Skye also wrote to him immediately
on his arrival, in a loyal strain, though their presence
was certainly expected at the unfurling of the insur-
gent standard at Glenfinnan, which was so soon to
take place. The letters are not so very explicit as
might have been wished, and, till the advice and the
presence of the lord-president encouraged them,
these gentlemen were undoubtedly not cordial for
the government. Lovat most certainly was not,
and had Charles, according to his advice, come east
by Inverness, he would no doubt have joined him
on the instant. But the clans having rushed down
into the Lowlands, while Sir John Cope, with the
whole regular troops that were in Scotland, came
north, added weight to the lord-president's remon-
strances, and for a time neutralized all who were
not previously committed, till the unfortunate affair
of Gladsmuir gave a new impulse to their hopes.
Sir Alexander Macdonald and Macleod of Macleod
were assured by a special messenger, that their past
conduct was not imputed to any want of zeal for
the cause or want of affection to the person of
Charles, who considered their sers'ices to be now
more useful to him than ever, and was ready to
receive them as his best friends. Lovat had a
message of the same kind, and, sure that now his
right master, as he called him, would prevail, set him-
self to forward the marching of his Erasers without
delay. Still he continued his correspondence with
the president, and laboured hard to keep up the
farce of loyalty, as did Macleod of Macleod, at the
very moment when he was pledging his faith to that
arch-hypocrite to send his Macleods to join the

44

DUNCAN FORBES.

Frasers, the Mackintoshes, and the Mackenzies at
Corrj'arrack, within a given number of days. Happily
for Macleod, he was greatly under the influence of
Sir Alexander Macdonald, whose judgment the lord-
president had completely opened upon the subject,
and he not only did not fulfd his engagement with
Lovat, but actually raised and headed his men to
fight on the opposite side.

The Frasers, in the meantime, formed a scheme
for seizing upon the house of Culloden, and either
killing or making the president a prisoner. The
execution of this plot was intrusted to the laird of
Foyers, who made the attempt on the night of Tues-
day, the 15th of October, the day when the clans
were engaged upon honour to assemble at the pass
of Corryarrack, for the purpose of reinforcing the
army of Charles at Edinburgh. The president,
however, who, had arms been his profession, would
probably have been as celebrated a soldier as he was
a lawyer, knew his situation, and the men he lived
among, better than to suffer himself to be so surprised.
The castle itself was naturally strong; several pieces
of cannon were planted upon its rampart; and it was
occupied by a garrison able and willing to defend
it; so that, leaving behind them one of their number
wounded, the assailants were obliged to content
themselves with carrying off some sheep and cattle,
and robbing the gardener and the house of an honest
weaver, who, it w'ould appear, lived under the pro-
tection of the president. Like all other projectors
of wicked things which fail in the execution, Lovat
seems to have been very much ashamed of this affair,
and he was probably the more so, that the Macleods,
the Macdonalds, &c., who, that same day, were to
have joined his clan at Corryarrack, had not only
not kept their word, but were actually on the road
tj take their orders from the president, which com-
pelled him once more to send, in place of troops, an
apology to Charles, with an abundance of fair pro-
mises, in which he was at all times sufficiently liberal.
The president had assured him that, by killing and
eating his sheep in broad daylight, the men who
had made the attack upon his house were all known,
but that if they did no more harm he forgave them;
only he wished they would send back the poor gar-
dener and weaver their things, and if they sent not
back the tenant his cattle, they knew he must pay for
them. Lovat, with well-affected concern and high
eulogiums upon his lordship's goodness, declares the
actors in this villanous attempt to have been ruffians
without the fear of God or man, and that he has
ordered his son, and Gortuleghis kinsman and factor,
to send back all the plunder, particularly his lord-
ship's sheep, which he was ready to give double value
for, rather than that his lordship should want them,
and, in case they should not be found, offered to
divide with him one hundred fat wedders, seeing
that he was under greater obligations to him and his
family than all the sheep, oxen, cows, and horses
he ever possessed were worth. "And I beg, my
lord," he adds, "that you may not be in the least
apprehensive that any of those rogues, or any in my
country, go and disturb your tenants, for I solemnly
swore to Gortuleg that if any villain or rascal of my
country durst presume to hurt or disturb any of your
lordship's tenants, I would go personally, though
carried in a litter, and see Hum seized and haui^ed.
So, my dear lord, I beg you may have no apprehen-
sion that any of your tenants will meet with disturb-
ance so long as I live in this country; and I hope
that my son that represents me will follow my ex-
ample: so let monarchies, government, and common-
wealths take up fits of revolutions and wars, for
God's sake, my dear lord, let us live in good friend-

ship and peace together." It was but a short
time when, after the retreat from England, Charles
was met at Glasgow by a messenger from Lovat, re-
questing him to send north a party to seize Inverness,
and if possible secure the lord-president, who, he
affirmed, had done him more harm than any man
living, having by his influence prevented more than
10,000 men from joining him. Circumstances of
another kind than Lovat's advice or request brought
Charles to Inverness, and the lord-president, along
with Lord Loudon, was under the necessity of taking
refuge in the Islantl of Skye, where he remained till
after the battle of Culloden, when he returned to
reap, as many other good men have done, neglect
and ingratitude for all his services. Of these services
and of this neglect the reader will not be displeased
to find the following graphic description from his
own pen. It is a letter to Mr. George Ross, then
at London, inclosing letters on the same subject to
Mr. Pelham, Mr. Scroope, and the Duke of New-
castle, date Inverness, May 13th, 1746.

"Dear George, my peregrinations are now over.
Some account of my adventures you surely have had
from different hands ; to give an exact one is the
work of more time than I can at present afford. The
difficulties I had to struggle with were many ; the
issue, on the main, has been favourable; and, upon
a strict review, I am satisfied with my own conduct.
I neither know nor care what critics, who have en-
joyed ease in safety, may think. The commissions
for the independent companies I disposed of in the
way that, to me, seemed the most frugal and profit-
able to the public; the use they have already been of
to the public is very great; preventing any accession
of strength to the rebels, before they marched into
England, was no small service; the like prevention,
in some degree, and the distraction of their forces
when the duke was advancing, was of considerable
use; and now they are, by the duke, employed, under
the command of E. Loudon, in Glengarry, and must
be the hands by which the rebels are to be hunted
in their recesses. My other letter of this date gives
the reason why the returns of the officers' names,
&c. , was not sooner made. I hope the certificate
will be sufficient to put them upon the establishment,
and to procure the issuing of money for them. The
returns of the several companies in the military way
E. Loudon will take care of \Vhat distressed us
most in this country, and was the real cause why the
rebels came to head after their flight from Stirling,
was the want of arms and money, which, God knows,
had been enough called for and expected. Had
these come in time, we could have armed a force
sufficient to have prevented them looking at us on
this side Drumachter. The men were prepared,
several hundreds assembled in their own counties,
and some hundreds actually on the march; but un-
luckily the ship that brought the few arms that were
sent, and the sum of money that came, did not ar-
rive in our road sooner than the very day on which
the rebels made themselves master of the barrack of
Ruthven. It was then too late to fetch unarmed
men from distances, it was even unsafe to land the
arms and the money ; so we were forced to suffer
them remain on board and to retreat with the force
we had, to preserve them for the further annoyance
of the enemy. Another ill consequence the scrimp-
ing us of money had, was that — as there were a
great many contingent services absolutely necessary,
and as all the money that could be raised upon Lord
Loudon's credit and mine was not sufficient to an-
swer these extraordinary services — we were obliged
to make free with the cash remitted for the subsist-
ence of the companies. This at the long run will

DUNCAN FORBES.

45

come out as broad as it is long when accounts
are made up and allowances made for the con-
tingent expense ; but in the meantime it saddles
us with the trouble of settling and passing an
account.

"If any one will reflect on the situation I was in,
and consider what I had to do, he will soon be con-
vinced that the expense I laid out could not be small.
So far as I could command money of my own, you
will easily believe it was employed without hesita-
tion ; and of that I say nothing at present. But
when the expedient proposed by the Marquis of
Tweeddale of taking bills to be drawn on Mr. Pel-
ham failed, I had no resource but to take up money
where I could find it, from well-disposed persons,
on my own proper notes. That money so picked
up was at the time of great service ; and now that
peace is restored, the gentlemen with great reason
expect to be repaid. You can guess how ill I like
a dun, and I should hope now that the confusions
are over, there can be no great difficulty in procuring
me a remittance, or leave to draw upon Mr Pelham
or some other proper person, to the extent of the
sum thus borrowed, which does not exceed ;^i5oo
sterling. ... I am heartily tired of this erratic
course I have been in, but as the prevention of
any future disturbance is a matter of great moment,
and which requires much deliberation and some
skill, if those on whom it lies to frame the scheme
for that purpose imagine I can be of any use to
them, I should not grudge the additional fatigue
of another journey; but it is not improbable their
resolutions may be already taken," &c. There is
in this letter an honest feeling, and a frankly ex-
pressed conviction of the value of his services; and
though possessed with a prophetic anticipation of
their being latterly to be overlooked, an equally open
and straightfor\vardly expressed determination to
continue them as long as they should be useful to his
country, strongly indicative of that high-minded de-
votion to the best interests of his species, which
peculiarly characterized this great man. At the same
time, there is manifested the most delicate feeling
with regard to the money part of the transaction.
What portion, and that was a large one, had been
advanced from his own treasury he makes for the
present no account of; but he pleads in the most
gentlemanly manner in behalf of those who had
assisted him at the time, and could scarcely be ex-
pected to have the same disinterested regard to the
public service, and the same degree of philosophic
patience. They expect with reason, he remarks, to
be paid, and he interposes in the most delicate man-
ner his own repugnance to be dunned, as the most
pressing of all arguments in their favour. Surely
never was so small a request, and so exceedingly
well founded, so modestly prepared, yet never per-
haps did a reasonable one meet with a more careless
reception. Upwards of a month elapsed before he
had an answer from George Ross, with a bill for
;i{'500, which perhaps was not for his own use. It
has been generally said that he never received one
farthing, and to his generous spirit, if he received
only this small portion, which we dare not affirm he
did, taken in connection with the manner in which
he did receive it, it must have been nearly, if not
more mortifying than if he had not. His grace of
Newcastle took no notice of his letter till he was
under the necessity of writing to him upon another
subject, two months afterwards, and then in the most
cold and formal manner imaginable. Of any reply
from Pelham and Scroope we have not found a ves-
tige, and would fondly hope that, courtiers as they
were, they had so much grace remaining as to be

unable to put pen to paper upon a business so dis-
graceful.

To a mind so pure and so gentle as was that of
President Forbes, this ingratitude on the part of the
government must have been exceedingly painful; but
we do not believe that it was the only or the prin-
cipal thing that weighed down his spirit. To the
morality of courts and the gratitude of courtiers he
was, in theory at least, no stranger, and as a prudent
and practical man, must have been in some measure
prepared to grapple with them; but for the base
duplicity and the ingratitude of his friends and neigh-
bours, many of whom had betrayed his confidence
in the grossest manner, he could scarcely be prepared,
and they must have affected him deeply. These,
while they wrung his heart with the most pungent
feelings of sorrow, furnished to the ignorant, the
suspicious, and the envious, fruitful topics of detrac-
tion and misrepresentation, against which, he must
have been aware, the best intentions and the most
upright actions have too often been found to afford
no protection. The care of the Highlands had been
imposed upon him for many years, he had been a
father and a friend to almost every principal family
they contained, and, with few exceptions, these
families had in return made the strongest professions
of loyalty to the government, and of friendship and
affection to himself This they had done too with
such apparent sincerity, as induced him to report
them perfectly loyal at the very moment they were
signing associations, purchasing arms, and ready to
appear in the field against the government. How
must he have felt to see the very men he had saved
from total destruction, procured them the favourable
notice of the government, and even high and honour-
able situations, rushing, from mistaken views of their
own or their country's interests, upon the ruin of both!
It was this, we have no doubt, gave the secret but
incurable wound, which, though he continued to per-
form the duties of his station with inflexible firmness,
and with imperturbable patience, brought him by
slow degrees to an untimely grave.

Though the lord-president continued to discharge
his office with his usual fidelity and diligence, and
though he uttered no complaints, it had long been
matter of grief to his friends to observe his health
rapidly declining, and in the month of November
it was judged necessary to send for his son from Eng-
land, who arrived only in time to receive his last ad-
vice and blessing. He died on the loth day of De-
cember, 1747, in the sixty-second year of his age.
The same day he died the following memorandum
was made by his son: — "My father entered into the
everlasting life of God, trusting, hoping, and be-
lieving through the blood of Christ, eternal life and
happiness. \Vhen I first saw my father upon the
bed of death, his blessing and prayer to me was —
' My dear John, you have just come in time to see
me die. Alay the great God of heaven and earth
bless and preserve you ! You have come to a very
poor fortune, partly through my own extravagance,
and partly through the oppression of power. I am
sure you will forgive me, because what I did was
with a good intention. I know you to be an honest-
hearted lad. Andrew Mitchell loves you affection-
ately ; he will advise you, and do what he can for
you. I depend upon Scroope, too, which you may
let him know. I will advise you never to think of
coming into parliament. I left some notes with the
two William Forbeses in case I had not seen you.
They are two affectionate lads, and will be able to
help you in some affairs better than you would have
done yourself John Hossack will help you in your
affairs in the north. My heart bleeds for poor John

48

PATRICK FORBES.

come so powerful an organ for the diffusion of sound
medical information, was in its earliest state so ably
conducted by Dr. Forbes, that in literary power
alone it was as able and distinguished as the highest
quarterly reviews of the day. In its management it
mainly owed its rise to the assiduity of Forbes, who
introduced into it articles written by the most emi-
nent anil ingenious medical writers of the period —
and to his independent spirit, which would admit
nothing inferior into its pages, however influentially
patronized. But this very disinterestedness and in-
dependence of spirit not only created umbnage, but
occasioned him pecuniary loss, and he retired from
the editorship of the British and Fureii^n Medical
Quarterly before he could reap the fruits of its success.
lie was not allowed, however, to depart into ob-
scurity, or remain unrewarded. In 1S40 he removed
to London, where his well-established professional
reputation had preceded his arrival, and he was ap-
pointed physician in ordinary to her majesty's house-
ii(dd, and physician extraordinary to his royal high-
ness I'rince Albert. He was early elected a fellow
of the Royal Society, and had the degree of Doctor of
Laws conferred upon him by the university of Oxford.
The last years in the life of Sir John Forbes were
crowned with the honours he had merited, and
passed in activity and usefulness. His love of litera-
ture abode with him to the last, and this he indulged
by writing works of a lighter description than those
in which he had hitherto been engaged. In 1849 he
published A Physiciaii's Holiday, or a Afoiith in S^oit-
zerland, containing an interesting account of the
principal localities in that romantic country. In
1852 he published an account of a tour he made in
Ireland, under the title of Memoranda made in Ire-
land in the Autumn of 1852; and in 1 856 the notice
of another tour, under the title of Sightseeing in Ger-
vtany and the Tyrol, in the Auttunn of 1855. Re-
verting again more immediately to his profession and
past studies, he published in 1857 his treatise on
Nature and Art in the Cure of Disease, which may
be regarded as a confession of his medical creed ;
with this his public labours may be said to have
terminated. He had already been subject to vertigo,
from the sudden attacks of which he sometimes fell
to the ground; his memory was impaired, so that he
had but a dim recollection of objects and places ;
and he had a tendency to turn to the right side.
Under such circumstances it was necessary to re-
linquish his practice, and this he did three years be-
fore he died, presenting at the same time his large
and valuable library to Marischal College, Aber-
deen, where he had first been educated. In the same
spirit of benevolence and mindfulness of early bene-
fits, he had two years before that period, in conjunc-
tion with Sir James Clark, established a library at
Fordyce, where he had received his education as a
school-boy. Sir John died at Whitchurch, Oxford-
shire, on the 13th of November, 1861, aged seventy-
four years.

FORBES, Patrick, an eminent prelate, was by
])irlh laird of Corse and O'Neil, in Aberdeenshire,
and descended from Sir Patrick Forbes (third son of
James, second Lord Forbes) armour-bearer to King
James II., from whom in 1482 he got a charter of
the barony of O'Neil. From the same branch of
the noble family of Forbes are descended the Forbeses
baronets of Craigievar, and the P'orbeses earls of
Granard in Ireland. The subject of this memoir
was born in 1564, and received the rudiments of his
education under Thomas Buchanan (nephew of the
author of The History of Scotland), who was then
schoolmaster of Stirling. He next studied philosophy

under Andrew Melville at Glasgow; and when that
eminent reformer and learned man was removed to
be principal of .St. Andrews, Forbes followed him
thither, and was his pupil in Hebrew and theology.
Such was the progress he made in these studies, and
such his gravity, wisdom, and blamelessness of life,
that at an uncommonly early age he was solicited to
become a professor in the college. His father, how-
ever, suddenly recalled his son, in order that he might
settle in life as a country gentleman; and he soon after
married Lucretia Spens, daughter of David Spens of
Wormiston, in Fife. He lived for some time in rural
retirement near Montrose, where his learning and
piety attracted a great concourse of visitors, especially
of the clergy. At the death of his father he removed
to the family seat of Corse, where, to use the quaint
phrase of his Latin biographer. Garden, he at once
cultivated his books and his fields, regularly perform-
ing the duties of a clergyman every Sunday before
his domestics.

At the time when Patrick Forbes entered into
public life, the reformed Church of Scotland had not
settled down into any regular system of ecclesiastical
polity, and sometimes things were allowed to be
done which would now be considered as at least ec-
centric, if not indecent. At the same time, the pro-
fession of a clergj'man, though holding forth little
pecuniary advantage, was invested with so much
popular power as to be highly inviting. We hence
find, in the instances of Erskine of Dun, Bruce of
Kinnaird, and others, that it had temptations even
for gentlemen of good estates. It appears that, in
the loose system of polity then acted upon, the laird
of Corse, merely because he was a devout man, and
possessed of some territorial influence, \vas repeatedly
entreated to perform the duties of a clergyman, as if
it had been supposed that any little deficiency in
point of clerical ordination that could be urged
against him would be fully compensated by his weight
as the laird of Corse. He accordingly did act tem-
porarily as a minister during the time when the
clergymen who had attended the proscribed General
Assembly at Aberdeen in 1605 were suffering exile
from their parishes. Instead of this exciting episcopal
interference, we are told that Patrick Blackburn,
Bishop of Aberdeen, no sooner heard of the excellent
ministrations of the laird of Corse than he, in con-
currence with the synod of his diocese, entreated him
to take ordination, and become the minister of his
own parish. Although this request was made oftener
than once, Forbes steadily resisted it, alleging as a
reason his sense of the weight of the priestly duties,
and of the difficulty of the times. These things,
however, being conveyed by some malevolent per-
son to the ear of the primate (Gladstones, Archbishop
of St. Andrews), that dignitary sent an order pro-
hibiting Corse from preaching any more until he
should take ordination. Having no alternative, the
laird returned to his former practice of family wor-
ship, attending the church every Sunday as a private
individual, and afterwards exercising upon a portion
of the Scriptures before his servants. He went on
thus for seven years, and was so far from exciting
schism by his well-meant exertions, that no one in
the neighbourhood was a more regular or respectful
attendant upon parochial ordinances. At length the
neighbouring gentlemen, and even the clergy, fre-
quented the family worship at Corse, where they
heard most able elucidations of the epistles of St.
Paul, and also those commentaries on the Revela-
tions of which an abridgment was afterwards pub-
lished.

At the end of the period alluded to the minister
of Keith, though a pious and worthy man, fell into a

I 1

HecrT' fioDinsoii .

DLLQAM FOUB

OF PITSLTGO.

■,AKr Alii/ ''I.AJiT{i:)l,v

i^ATRICK FORBES

fit of melancholy, and, after suffering for some time,
made an attempt upon his own life. He had hardly
inflicted the fatal wound when he was overtaken by
deep remorse, and, having sent for the laird of Corse,
was immediately attended by that devout man, who
proceeded to reason with him in so earnest a manner
as to open his soul fully to a sense of spiritual in-
fluences. The unfortunate man with his dying
breath renewed the request which had so often been
proffered to Forbes, that he would consent to
undertake the pastoral charge of the parish; which
request, taking place under such impressive circum-
stances, and enforced at the same time by the elo-
quence of the neighbouring clerg>'men and gentrv,
at length prevailed, and the laird of Corse imme-
diately became minister of Keith. He was at this
time forty-eight years of age.

In i6i8 Forbes was appointed Bishop of Aber-
deen, with the sincere approbation of all classes of
the people. Attached from principle to the Episcopal
form of church government, he concurred in the
five articles of Perth, which were that year imposed
upon the Scottish church. It does not appear, how-
ever, that Bishop Forbes used any severe means to
carry these articles into practice, for we are informed
by Burnet {Life of Bedell) that, by his remarkable
prudence, he "greatly allayed, and almost conquered,
not only the distempered judgments, but the per^'erse
and turbulent humours, of divers in his diocese." In
his whole conduct as a bishop he appears to have been
uniformly influenced by an honest and conscientious
regard to the obligations of the character which he
had assumed, and what he conceived to be the best
means of promoting the interests of piety and virtue.
He was not only careful to fix worthy clerg}-men in
his diocese, but to make proper provision for their
support and that of their successors. He succeeded
in recovering many of the revenues which, in the
tumults of the reforming period, had been lost or
neglected; and he used all proper methods with heri-
tors and titulars of teinds and others to make aug-
mentation of stipends, which he had no sooner effected
in some cases than he dissolved the pernicious union
of parishes, and established a clerg)Tnan in each.
Even from his o\vti income, limited as it must have
been, he bestowed much upon the poorer clergy.
He was very strict in examining those who applied
for ordination, and thus secured for future times a
superior body of clergj'. He was also indefatigable
in visiting and inspecting the clergj-men of his dio-
cese— a duty which he generally performed in a some-
what singular manner. "It was his custom," says
Burnet, "to go without pomp or noise, attended only
by one servant, that he might the more easily be in-
formed of what belonged to his cure. When he was
told of the weakness or negligence of any of his
clergy, he would go and lodge near his church on
Saturday, in the evening, without making himself
known, and the next day, when he was in the pulpit,
he would go and hear him, that by this he might be
able to judge what his common sermons were; and
as they appeared to him, he encouraged or admon-
ished him."

Sometime after his promotion to the bishopric
he was appointed chancellor of King's College,
Aberdeen, which institution he raised from a state
of utter desolation and neglect, to be one of the most
flourishing in the kingdom. He fully repaired the
buildings; he increased the library, revived the pro-
fessorships of divinity, canon law, and physic; and
procured the addition of a new professorship in
divinity. At length, finding himself drawing near
his latter end, he sent for all the clergy of Aberdeen
to receive the sacrament along with him, and two

VOL. II.

SIR WILLIAM FORBES.

4^

days after, March 28th, 1635, breathed his last, with
the most pious expressions of hope, and full of re-
ligious consolation. At his funeral, which took place
in the cathedral church of Aberdeen, Dr. Barron
preached an appropriate sermon to a numerous
auditor)', which was afterwards published.'

This great ornament of the Episcopal church in
Scotland is characterized, in the manner of the time,
as a man of singularly clear genius, solid judgment,
the highest prudence, piety, and integrity, of much
authority in counsel, and invincible fortitude and
constancy of mind. Bishop Burnet informs us that
he "scarce ever suffered any man of merit to ask
anything at his hands, but anticipated them; while
those whose characters would not bear a severe
scrutiny never dared to solicit him. He had a quick
eye and sprightly countenance, which proved an
additional ornament to his expressions, which were
grave and majestic, and of peculiar insinuation and
grace. In parliament he was elected one of the
lords of the articles, and his judgment there and ia
council was considered as an oracle."

FORBES, Sir William, of Pitsligo, an eminent
banker and citizen, was bom at Edinburgh on the
5th of April, 1739. He was descended, by the
father's side, from a younger branch of the ancient
and respectable family of Forbes of Monmusk, the
proprietors, at the close of the seventeenth century,
of the noble barony of that name on the banks of
the Don, in Aberdeenshire ; and by his paternal
grandmother, from the still older and more dignified
family of the Lords Pitsligo, in the same county.
His mother was also a branch of the family of Forbes
of Monmusk, one of the first families in Scotland
who were invested with the badge of Nova Scotia
baronets, which still is worn by their descendants.
His father, who was bred to the bar, and was rising
into eminence in that profession, died when he was
only four years of age, leaving his mother, then a
young woman, with two infant sons, and ver)' slender
means of support.. She lived at first at Milne of
Forgue, on the estate of Bogny in Aberdeenshire,
with the proprietor of which territory' she was con-
nected through her mother, and afterwards fixed her
residence at Aberdeen with her two sons, where she
remained for several years, superintending their edu-
cation. While there the younger son, who is repre-
sented as having been a most engaging boy, died,
leaving her remaining hopes to centre on Sir William,
then her only child.

Though reared in straitened circumstances. Sir
William had not only the benefit of an excellent
education, but was under the immediate care and
superintendence of the most respectable gentlemen
in Aberdeenshire. His guardians were Lord Forbes,
his uncle Lord Pitsligo, his maternal uncle Mr.
Morrison of Bogny, and his aunt's husband Mr.
Urquhart of Meldrum, who were not only most
attentive to the duties of their trust, but habituated
him from his earliest years to the habits and ideas of
good society, and laid the foundation of that highly
honourable and gentlemanlike character which so
remarkably distinguished him in after-life. It has
been often observed, that the source of ever)thing
which is pure and upright in subsequent years, is to
be found in the lessons instilled into the infant mind
by maternal love; and of this truth the character of
Sir William Forbes affords a signal example. He

' The only works of Bishop Forbes which have been pub-
lished, are his Commentary on the Re-jelation, printed at
London in 1613 republished in Ladn after his death by his
son ; and a treatise entitled Exercitationes <U I'erbo Dei, et
DUsertatio de Versionibus V'emaculis.

S9

5^

SIR WILLIAM FORBES.

himself uniformly declared, and solemnly repeated
on his death-bed, that he owed everything to the
upright character, pious habits, and sedulous care of
his mother. She belonged to a class formerly well
known in this country, who, though descended from
ancient and honourable families, and intimate with
the best society in Scotland, lived in privacy, and
what would now be deemed poverty, solely engaged
in the care of their children and the discharge of
their social and religious duties. Both Sir William's
father and his mother were members of the Scottish
Episcojial church — a religious body which, although
exposed to many vexations and disabilities since the
Revolution in l6SS, continued to number among its
members many of the most respectable and con-
scientious inhabitants of the country. To this com-
munion Sir William continued ever after to belong,
and to his humane and beneficent exertions its pre-
sent comparatively prosperous and enlarged state
may be in a great measure ascribed.

As soon as the education of her son was so far
advanced as to permit of his entering upon some
profession, his mother, Lady Forbes, removed to
Edinburgh in October, 1753, where an esteemed and
excellent friend, Mr. Farquharson of Haughton,
prevailed on the Messrs. Coutts soon after to receive
him a> an apprentice into their highly respectable
banking-house — among the earliest establishments
of the kind in Edinburgh. The mother and son did
not, in the first instance, keep house for themselves,
but boarded with a respectable widow lady; and it
is worthy of being recorded as a proof of the differ-
ence in the style of living and the value of money
between that time and the present, that the sum paid
for the board of the two was only ;,^40 a year. At
Whitsunday, 1 754, as .Sir William was bound an
apprentice to the banking-house, she removed to a
small house in P'orrester's Wynd, consisting only of
a single floor. Even in these humble premises she
was visited by persons of the very first distinction in
.Scotland, and frequently entertained them at tea
parties in the afternoon — a mode of seeing society
which, although alm<3st gone into disuse with the
increasing wealth and luxury of modern manners,
was then very prevalent. At that period also,
when dinner or supper parties were given by ladies
of rank or opulence, which was sometimes though
seldom the case, their drawing-rooms were fre-
quented in the afternoon by the young and the
old of both sexes, and opportunities afforded for
the acquisition of elegance of manner, and a taste
for polite and superior conversation, of which Sir
William did not fail to profit in the very highest
degree.

It was an early impression of Sir William's, that
one of his principal duties in life consisted in restor-
ing his ancient but now dilapidated family; and it
was under this feeling of duty that he engaged in
the mercantile profession. His apprenticeship lasted
seven years, during which he continued to live with
Lady Forbes in the same frugal and retired manner,
but in the enjoyment of the same dignified and ex-
cellent society which they had cultivated upon their
first coming to Edinburgh. After its expiry he acted
for two years as clerk in the establishment, during
which time his increasing emoluments enabled him
to make a considerable addition to the comforts of
his mother. In 1761 his excellent abilities and ap-
plication to business induced the Messrs. Coutts to
admit him as a partner, with a small share in the
banking-house, and he ever after ascribed his good
fortune in life to the fortunate connection thus formed
with that great mercantile family. But without
being insensible to the benefits arising from such a

connection, it is perhaps more just to ascribe it to
his own undeviating ])urity and integrity of character,
which enabled him to turn to the best advantage
those fortunate incidents which at one time or other
occur to all in life, but which so many suffer to escape
from negligence, instability, or a mistaken exercise
of their talents.

In 1763 one of the Messrs. Coutts died; another
retired from business through ill health, and the two
others were settled in London. A new company
was therefore formed, consisting of .Sir William
Forbes, Sir James Hunter Blair, and .Sir Robert
Herries; and although none of the Messrs. Coutts
retained any connection with the firm, their name
was retained out of respect to the eminent gentlemen
of that name who had preceded them. The business
was conducted on this footing till 1773, when the
name of the firm was changed to that of Forbes,
Hunter, & Co., which it has ever since retained; Sir
Robert Herries having formed a separate establish-
ment in St. James Street, London. Of the new firm
Sir William Forbes continued to be the head from
that time till the period of his death; and to his sound
judgment and practical sagacity in business, much
of its subsequent prosperity was owing. His first
care was to withdraw the concern altogether from
the alluring but dangerous speculations in corn in
which all the private bankers of Scotland were at
that period so much engaged, and to restrict their
transactions to the proper business of banking. They
commenced issuing notes in 1783, and rapidly rose,
from the respect and esteem entertained for all the
members of the firm, as well as the prudence and
judgment with which their business was conducted,
to a degree of public confidence and prosperity almost
unprecedented in this countiy. In 1770 he married
Miss Elizabeth Hay, eldest daughter of Dr. (after-
wards Sir James) Hay — a union productive of un-
broken happiness to his future life. This event
obliged him to separate from his mother, as her habits
of privacy and retirement were inconsistent with the
more extended circle of society in which he was now
to engage. Blessed with a serene and contented
disposition, enjoying the kindness, and gratified by
the rising prosperity and high character which her
son had obtained; and fortunate in seeing the for-
tunes of her own and her husband's family rapidly
reviving under his successful exertions, she lived
happy and contented to an extreme old age, until
she died on the 26th December, 1789.

The benevolence of Sir William Forbes' character,
his unwearied charity and activity of disposition,
naturally led to his taking a very prominent share
in the numerous public charities of Edinburgh. The
first public duty of this kind which he undertook,
was that of a manager of the charity workhouse, to
which he was appointed in 1771. At this period the
expenditure of that useful establishment was greater
than its income, and it was necessary for the managers
to communicate for several years after with the magis-
trates and other public bodies, as to providing for
the deficits, and the state and management of the
poor. Sir William P'orbes was one of the sub-
committee appointed by the managers to arrange
this important matter, and upon him was devolved
the duty of drawing up the reports and memorials
res]iecting that charity, ^^■hich, during the years 1 772
and 1773, were printed and circulated to induce the
public to come forward and aid the establishment —
a duty which he performed with equal ability and
success. The means of improving this institution,
in which he ever through life took the warmest in-
terest, occupied about this period a very large share
of his thoughts, and in 1777 he embodied them in

SIR WILLIAM FORBES.

51

tlie form of a pamphlet, which he published in re-
ference to the subject, abounding both in practical
knowledge and enlightened benevolence.

Another most important institution about the same
period was deeply indebted to his activity and per-
severance for the successful termination of its diffi-
culties. The high-school having become ruinous,
and unfit for the increasing number of scholars who
attended it, a few public-spirited individuals formed
a committee in conjunction with the magistrates of
the city, to build a new one. Of this committee .Sir
William Forbes was chairman; and besides con-
triljuting largely himself, it was to his activity and
perseverance that the success of the undertaking was
mainly to be ascribed. The amount subscribed was
£22,00, a very large sum in those days, but still in-
sufficient to meet the expenses of the work. By his
exertions the debt of £1 100 was gradually liquidated,
and he had the satisfaction of laying the foundation-
stone of the edifice destined to be the scene of the
early efforts of .Sir Walter .Scott, and many of the
greatest men whom Scotland has produced.

He was admitted a member of the Orphan Hos-
pital directory on the 8th of August, 1774) ^-nd acted
as manager from 1783 to 1788, and from 1797 to
1801. He always took a warm interest in the con-
cerns of that excellent charity, and devoted a consi-
derable part of his time to the care and education of
the infants who were thus brought under his super-
intendence. He became a member of the Merchant
Company in 1784, and in 1786 was elected master — •
an office which, though held only for a year, was
repeatedly conferred upon him during the remainder
of his life. He always took an active share in the
management of that great company, and was the
promoter of a plan adopted long after, of rendering
the annuities to widows belonging to it a matter of
right, and not of favour or solicitation. The same
situation made him a leading member of the com-
mittee of merchants, appointed in 1772, to confer
with Sir James Montgomery, then lord-advocate, on
the new bankrupt act introduced in that year, and
many of its most valuable clauses were suggested by
his experience. In that character he took a leading
part in the affairs of the Merchant Maidens' Hospital,
which is governed by the officers of the Merchant
Company, and was elected governor of that charity
in 1786. The same causes made him governor of
Watson's Hospital during the year that he was pre-
sident or as.sistant of the Merchant Company; and
president of the governors of Gillespie's Hospital,
when that charity was opened in 1802. He faith-
fully and assiduously discharged the duties connected
with the management of these hospitals during all
the time that he was at their head, and devoted to
these truly benevolent objects a degree of time
which, considering his multifarious engagements in
business, is truly surprising, and affords the best
proof how much may be done, even by those most
engaged, by a proper economy in that important
particular.

From the first institution of the .Society of Anti-
quaries, and the Royal Society in 1783, he was a
constituted member of both, and took an active share
in their formation and management. From 1785
downwards he was constantly a manager of the
Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, and was indefatigable
in his endeavours to ameliorate the situation and
assuage the sufferings of the unfortunate inmates of
that admirable establishment. At his death he left
;i^20O to the institution, to be applied to the fund for
the benefit of patients.

In 1787 he was appointed one of the trustees for
the encouragement of manufactures and fisheries, of

which his friend Mr. Arbuthnot was secretary, and
he continued for the remainder of his life to be one of
its most active and efficient members.

One of the greatest improvements which Edinburgh
received was the formation of the .South Bridge in
1784, under the auspices and direction of his friend
Sir James Hunter Blair. In the management and
guidance of this great work that enterprising citizen
was mainly guided by the advice of his friend .Sir
William Forbes, and he was afterwards one of the
most active and zealous trustees who, under the 25
Geo. HI. c. 28, carried into full execution after his
death that great public undertaking. In selecting
the plan to be adopted, the more plain design which
afforded the accommodation required was preferred
to the costly and magnificent one furnished by the
Messrs. Adams: and with such judgment and wisdom
was the work carried into effect, that it was com-
pleted not only without any loss, but with a large
surplus to the public. Of tliis surplus ;i^3000 was
applied to another very great improvement, the
draining of the Meadows, while the ten per cent,
addition to the land-tax, which had been levied under
authority of the act as a guarantee fund, and not being
required for the purposes of the trust, was paid over
to the city of Edinburgh for the use of the com-
munity. When these results are contrasted with
those of similar undertakings of the present age, the
sagacity of the subject of this memoir and his partner,
Sir James Hunter Blair, receives a new lustre far
above what was reflected upon them even at the time
when the benefits of their exertions were more im-
mediately felt.

In 1785 he was prevailed on to accept the situation
of chairman of the sub-committee of delegates from
the Highland counties for obtaining an alteration of
the law passed the year before in regard to small stills
within the Highland line. Nearly the whole labour
connected with this most important subject, and all
the correspondence with the gentlemen who were to
support the desired alteration in parliament, fell upon
Sir William Forbes. By his indefatigable efforts,
however, aided by those of the Duke of Athol, the
object was at length attained, and by the 25 Geo.
HI. this important matter was put upon an improved
footing.

Ever alive to the call of humanity and the suffer-
ings of the afflicted, he early directed his attention
to the formation of a lunatic asylum in Edinburgh
— an institution the want of which was at that time
severely felt by all, but especially the poorer classes
of society. Having collected the printed accounts
of similar institutions in other places, he drew up a
sketch of the intended establishment, and an ad-
vertisement for its support, in March, 17S8. Though
a sufficient sum could not be collected to set the de-
sign on foot at that time, a foundation was laid, on
which, under the auspices of his son. Sir William,
and other benevolent and public-spirited individuals,
the present excellent structure at Morningside was
ultimately reared.

The benevolent Dr. Johnston of I.eith having
formed in 1792 a plan for the establishment of a
blind asylum in Edinburgh, Sir William Forbes,
both by liberal subscription and active exertion,
greatly contributed to the success of the undertaking.
He was the chairman of the committee appointed by
the subscribers to draw up regulations for the estab-
lishment, and when the committee of management
was appointed, he was nominated vice-president,
which situation he continued to hold till the time of
his death. Without descending farther into detail,
it is sufficient to obser\'e that, for the last thirty
years of his life, Sir William was either at the head.

52

SIR WILLIAM FORBES.

or actively engaged in the management, of all the
charitable establishments of Edinburgh, and that
many of the most valuable of them owed their exist-
ence or success to his exertions.

Nor was it only to his native city that his beneficent
exertions were confined. The family estate of Pit-
sligo having been forfeited to the crown in 1746, was
brought to sale in 1758, and bought by Mr. Forbes,
Lord Pitsligo's only son. His embarrassments,
however, soon compelled him to bring the lower
barony of Pitsligo to sale, and it was bought by Mr.
Garden of Troup : Sir William Forbes being the
nearest heir of the family, soon after purchased seventy
acres of the upper barony, including the old mansion
of Pitsligo, now roofless and deserted. By the death
of Mr. Forbes in 17S1 Sir William succeeded to the
lower barony, with which he had now connected the
old mansion house, and thus saw realized his early
and favourite wish of restoring to his ancient family
their paternal inheritance.

The acquisition of this property, which, though
extensive, was, from the embarrassments of the
family, in a most neglected state, opened a boundless
field for Sir William's active benevolence of disposi-
tion. In his character of landlord he was most
anxious for the improvement and happiness of the
people on his estates, and spared neither time nor
expense to effect it. He early commenced their im-
provement on a most liberal scale, and bent his at-
tention in an especial manner to the cultivation of a
large tract of moss which still remained in a state of
nature. With this view he laid out in 1 783 the vil-
lage of New Pitsligo, and gave every assistance, by
lending money, and forbearance in the exaction
of rent, to the incipient exertions of the feuars.
Numbers of poor cottars were established by his care
on the most uncultivated parts of the estate, most of
whom not only paid no rent for the land they occu-
pied, but were pensioners on his bounty — a mode of
proceeding which, although it brought only burdens
on the estate at first, has since been productive of the
greatest benefit by the continual application of that
greatest of all improvements to a barren soil — the
labour of the human hand. The value of this pro-
perty, and the means of improvement to the tenantry,
were further increased by the judicious purchase in
1787 of the contiguous estates of Pittullie and Pitten-
drum, which, by their situation on the sea-shore, af-
forded the means of obtaining in great abundance
sea-ware for the lands. The liberal encouragement
which he afforded soon brought settlers from all
quarters ; the great improvements which he made
himself scrv'ed both as a model and an incitement to
his tenantry; the formation of the great road from
Peterhead to Banff, which passed through the village
of New Pitsligo, and to which he largely contributed,
connected the new feuars with those thriving sea-
ports; and before his death he had the satisfaction of
seeing assembled on a spot which, at his acquisition
of the estate, was a barren waste, a thriving popula-
tion of 300 souls, and several thousand acres smiling
with cultivation which were formerly the abode only
of the moor-fowl or the curlew.

In order to encourage industry on his estate, he
established a spinning-school at New Pitsligo, intro-
duced the linen manufacture, and erected a bleach-
field — undertakings which have since been attended
with the greatest success. At the same time, to pro-
mote the education of the young, he built a school-
house, where the Society for the Propagation of
Christian Knowledge established a teacher ; and in
order to afford to persons of all persuasions the means
of attending that species of worship to which they
were inclined, he built and endowed not only a chapel

of ease, with a manse for the minister, connected
with the Established Church, but a chapel, with a
dwelling-house for an Episcopal clergj'man, for the
benefit of those who belonged to that persuasion.
Admirable acts of beneficence, hardly credible in one
who resided above two hundred miles from this scene
of his bounty, and was incessantly occupied in pro-
jects of improvements or charity in his own city !

To most men it would appear that such support
and attention to these multifarious oljjects of benevo-
lence, both in Edinburgh and on his Aberdeenshire
estates, would have absorbed the whole of both his
fortune and his time which could be devoted to ob-
jects of beneficence. But that was not Sir William
Forbes' character. Indefatigable in activity, un-
wearied in doing good, he was not less strenuous in
private than in public charity ; and no human eye
will ever know, no human ear ever learn, the exten-
sive and invaluable deeds of kindness and benevolence
which he performed, not merely to all the unfortunate
who fell within his own obser\'ation, but all who
were led by his character for beneficence to apply to
him for relief. Perhaps no person ever combined to
so great a degree the most unbounded pecuniary
generosity with delicacy in the bestowal of the gift,
and discrimination in the mode in which it was ap-
plied. Without giving way to the weakness of in-
discriminately relieving all who apply for charity,
which so soon surrounds those who indulge in it with
a mass of idle or profligate indigence, he made it a rule
to inquire personally, or by means of those he could
trust, into the character and circumstances of those
who were partakers of his bounty: and when he found
that it was really deserved, that virtue had been re-
duced by suffering, or industry blasted by misfortune,
he put no bounds to the splendid extent of his bene-
factions. To one class in particular, in whom the
sufferings of poverty are perhaps more severely felt
than by any other in society, the remnants of old and
respectable families who had survived their relations,
or been broken down by misfortune, his charity was
in a most signal manner exerted ; and numerous
aged and respectable individuals who had once known
better days would have been reduced by his death to
absolute ruin if they had not been fortunate enough
to find in his descendants the heirs not only of his
fortune, but of his virtue and generosity.

Both Sir William's father and mother were of
Episcopalian families, as most of those of the higher
class in Aberdeenshire at that period were; and he
was early and strictly educated in the tenets of that
persuasion. He attended Chief-baron Smith's chapel
in Blackfriars' Wynd, of which he was one of the
vestry, along with the esteemed Sir Adolphus Ough-
ton, then commander-in-chief in Scotland. In 177'
it was resolved to join this congregation with that of
two other chapels in Carruber's Close and Skinner's
Close, and build a more spacious and commodious
place of worship for them all united. In this under-
taking, as in most others of the sort, the labouring
oar fell to Sir William Forbes; and by his personal
exertions, and the liberal subscriptions of himself and
his friends, the Cowgate Chapel was at length com-
pleted, afterwards so well known as one of the most
popular places of worship in Edinburgh.

When the new bankrupt act, which had been en-
acted only for a limited time, expired in 1783, Sir
William Forbes was appointed convener of the mer-
cantile committee in Edinburgh, which corresponded
with the committees of Glasgow and Aberdeen, of
which Provost Colquhoun and Mr. Milne were re-
spectively conveners; and their united efforts and
intelligence produced the great improvement upon
the law which was effected by that act. By it the

SIR WILLIAM FORBES.

53

sequestration law, which under the old statute had
extended to all descriptions of debtors, was confined
to merchants, traders, and others properly falling
under its spirit; the well-known regulations for the
equalization of arrestments and poindings within
sixty days, were introduced; sequestrations, which
included at first only the personal estate, were ex-
tended to the whole property; and the greatest im-
provement of all was introduced, namely, the restric-
tion of what was formerly alternative to a system of
private trust, under judicial control. Sir William
Forbes, who corresponded with the London solicitor
who drew the bill, had the principal share in sug-
gesting these the great outlines of the system of
mercantile bankruptcy in this country; and accord-
ingly, when the convention of royal burghs, who paid
the expense attending it, voted thanks to the lord-
advocate for carrying it through parliament, they at
the same time (loth July, 1783) directed their preses
to "convey the thanks of the convention to Sir
William Forbes, Hay Campbell, Esq., solicitor-
general for Scotland, and Mr. Milne, for their great
and uncommon attention to the bill."

On the death of Mr. Forbes of Pitsligo, only son
of Lord Pitsligo, in 1782, whose estate and title
were forfeited for his accession to the rebellion in
1745, Sir William Forbes, as the nearest heir in the
female line of the eldest branch of the family of
Forbes, claimed and obtained from the lyon-court
the designation and arms of Pitsligo. He was the
heir of the peerage under the destination in the
patent, if it had not been forfeited.

Hitherto Sir William Forbes' character has been
considered merely as that of a public-spirited, active,
and benevolent gentleman, who, by great activity
and spotless integrity, had been eminently prosperous
in life, and devoted, in the true spirit of Christian
charity, a large portion of his ample means and
valuable time to the relief of his fellow- creatures, or
works of public utility and improvement ; but this
was not his only character — he was also a gentleman
of the highest breeding, and most dignified manners;
the life of every scene of innocent amusement or re-
creation, the head of the most cultivated and elegant
society in the capital; and a link between the old
Scottish aristocratical families, to which he belonged
by birth, and the rising commercial opulence with
which he was connected by profession, as well as
the literary circle with which he was intimate from
his acquirements. His intimate acquaintance with
the first literary characters of the day, and the exten-
sive correspondence which had fallen into his hands,
probably suggested to Sir William Forbes the idea
of writing the life of Dr. Beattie, one of his earliest
and most valued friends, and whose eminence was
not only such as to call for such an effort of bio-
graphy, but whose acquaintance with all the eminent
writers of the time, rendered his life the most favour-
able opportunity for portraying the constellation of
illustrious men who shed a glory over Scotland at
the close of the eighteenth century. He executed
this work accordingly, which appeared in 1805,
shortly before his death, in such a way as to give
the most favourable impression of the distinction
which he would have attained as an author, had his
path in general not lain in a more extended and pe-
culiar sphere of usefulness. It rapidly went through
a second edition, and is now deservedly ranked high
among the biographical and historical remains of
the last century.

One peculiar and most salutary species of benevo-
lence was practised by Sir William Forbes to the
greatest extent. His situation as head of a great
banking establishment led to his receiving frequent

applications in the way of business for assistance,
from young men not as yet possessed of capital. By
a happy combination of caution with liberality in
making these advances, by inquiring minutely into
the habits and moral character of the individuals as-
sisted, and proportioning the advance to their means
and circumstances, he was enabled, to an almost in-
credible extent, to assist the early efforts of industry,
without in the least endangering the funds committed
by others to his care. Hundreds in every rank in
Edinburgh were enabled, by his paternal assistance,
to commence life with advantage, who otherwise
could never have been established in the world ; and
numbers who afterwards rose to affluence and pro-
sperity, never ceased in after-years to acknowledge
with the warmest gratitude the timely assistance
which first gave the turn to their heretofore adverse
fortunes, and laid the foundation of all the success
which they after\vards attained.

The benevolence of his disposition and the warmth
of his heart seemed to expand with the advance of life
and the increase of his wealth. Unlike most other
men, he grew even more indulgent and humane, if
that were possible, in his older than his earlier years.
The intercourse of life, and the experience of a most
extensive business, had no effect in diminishing his
favourable opinion of mankind, or cooling his ardour
in the pursuit of beneficence. Viewing others in the
pure and unsullied mirror of his own mind, he im-
puted to them the warm and benevolent feelings
with which he himself was actuated; and thought
they were influenced by the same high springs of
conduct -which directed his own life. It was an
early rule with him to set aside every year a certain
portion of his income to works of charity, and this
proportion increasing with the growth of his fortune,
ultimately reached an almost incredible amount.
Unsatisfied even with the immense extent and grow-
ing weight of his public and private charities, he had,
for many years before his death, distributed large
sums annually to individuals on whom he could rely
to be the almoners of his bounty; and his revered
friend Bishop Jolly received in this way ;[^ioo a year,
to be distributed around the remote village of Fraser-
burgh, in Aberdeenshire. These sums were bestowed
under the most solemn promise of secrecy, and with-
out any one but the person charged with the bounty
being aware who the donor was. Numbers in this
way in every part of the country partook of his charity,
without then knowing whose was the hand which
blessed them; and it frequently happened that the
same persons who had been succoured by his al-
moners, afterwards applied to himself; but on such
occasions, he invariably relieved them if they really
seemed to require assistance; holding, as he himself
expressed it, that his public and private charities
were distinct ; and that his right hand should not know
what his left hand had given.

But the end of a life of so much dignity and use-
fulness, the pattern of benevolence, refinement, and
courtesy, was at length approaching. He had a long
and dangerous illness in 1791, from which, at the
time, he had no hopes of recovery; and which he
bore with the resignation and meekness which might
have been expected from his character. Though
that complaint yielded to the skill of his medical
friends, it left the seeds of a still more dangerous
malady, in a tendency to water in the chest. In
1802 he had the misfortune to lose Lady Forbes,
the loved and worthy partner of his virtues; which
sensibly affected his spirits, though he bore the be-
reavement with the firmness and hope which his
strong religious principles inspired. In May, 1S06,
shortly after his return from London, whither he

54

JOHN DE FORDUX DAVID FORDYCE.

had been summoned as a witness on Lord Melville's
trial, he began to feel symptoms of shortness of
breath; and the last house where he dined was that
of his son. Lord Medwyn, on occasion of the christ-
ening of one of his children, on the 2Sth of June,
1806. After that time he was constantly confined
to the house; the difficulty of breathing increased,
and his sufferings for many months were very severe.
During all this trying period not a complaint ever
escap^ his lips. He constantly prayed for assist-
ance to be enabled to bear whatever the Almighty
might send; and at length death closed his memor-
able career, on the 12th November, 1806, when
surrounded by his family, and supported by all the
hopes and consolations of religion, amidst the tears
of his relations, and the blessings of his country.

Sir William Forbes was succeeded in his title
and estates by his son. Sir William, a man of the
most amiable and upright character, who ha\-ing
been cut ofiF in the middle of his years and useful-
ness, was succeeded by his son, Sir John Stuart
Forbes. The subject of our memoir left two other
sons, Mr. John Hay Forbes {Lord Medwyn) ahd
Mr. George Forbes, and five daughters, four of whom
were married: Lady Wood, wife of Sir Alexander
Wood; Mrs. Macdonald of Glengarry-; Mrs. Skene
of Rubislaw; and Mrs. Mackenzie of Portmore. We
close this notice of Sir William Forbes, in the words
of Sir Walter Scott, who, in his notes to Marmion,
remarks of him, that he was "unequalled, perhaps,
in the degree of individual affection entertained for
him by his friends, as well as in the general esteem
and respect of Scotland at large;" and who, in that
noble poem, commemorates his virtues with equal
truth and tenderness: —

'■' Far may we search before we find
\ heart so manly and so kind! "

FORDUX, or DE FORDUN, John, the cele-
brated author of the Scotkhroiticon, was probably
born about the middle of the fourteenth century, and
at the village of Fordun, in Kincardineshire, from
which he seems to have taken his name. Walter
Bower, the continuator of his historv-, speaks of him
as a simple man, who never graduated in the schools.
It would appear, however, that he possessed sufficient
learning to fit him for the profession of a priest and
the composition of a Latin historv', as these two
various kinds of labour were then practised. He
was a priest of the diocese of St. Andrews, and a
canon of the church of Aberdeen, where he is said
to have resided at the time when he composed his
history. This great composition was in progress, as
he himself informs us, in the reign of Richard II. of
England, which extended between the years 1387
and 1399 ; and this, vague as it is, is one of the few
dates that can be supplied respecting the life of the
chronicler. The work produced by Fordun, though
deformed by the superstitious and incorrect ideas of
the age, is nevertheless a respiectable production,
fally qualified to bear comparison with the works of
the contemporary English historians. The merit of
the author is increased in no mean degree by the
motive which prompted him to undertake the com-
ptosition — a desire of supplying the want of those
historical monuments which Edward I. carried away
to England. To quote the quaint words of a
monkish writer :* " After the loss of these chronicles,
a venerable Scottish priest, by name John Fordun,
arose, and feeling his heart titillated and effer%escent
with patriotic zeal, he applied his hand boldly to

' .\s translated by Mr. P. F. Tytler, in his Lh-es of
Scottish Worthies, article "Fordun."

the work ; nor did he desist from the undertaking
until, by the most laborious study and perseverance,
traversing England and the adjacent provinces of
his own country, he had recovered so much of the
lost materials as enabled him to compose five vol-
umes of the delectable gests of the Scots, which he
drew up in a sufficiently chronicle-like style, as they
are to be found in the great volume entitled the
ScotichronUon. In this undertaking it is impossible
to refrain from bestowing great praise upon the in-
dustry of the author. For, adverting to the fact that
to commit all the records of past ages to the memory
is the attribute of God rather than man; he, upon
this consideration, travelled on foot, like an un-
wearied and investigating bee, through the flower)'
meadows of Britain, and into the oracular recesses
of Ireland ; taking his way through provinces and
towns, through universities and colleges, through
churches and monasteries, entering into conversa-
tion, and not unfrequently sharing at bed and board,
with historians and chronologists; turning over their
books, debating and disputing with them, and prick-
ing down, or intitulating in his descriptive tablets, all
that most pleased him; in this manner, and by pur-
suing indefatigable investigation, he became pos-
sessed of the knowledge which was before unknown
to him, and collecting it with studious care in the
revolving sinuosities of his parchment code, Hke
rich honeycombs in a historical hive, he, as I have
already premised, divided them into five books of
elegant composition, which brought down the history
to the death of the sainted King Da^id."

The result of Fordun's labours is, that we possess
an account of several ages of Scottish historj- which
otherwise would have been in a great measure blank.
The two first of the five books into which he
di\-ide5 his work may be laid aside as relating only
to the fabulous part of the narrative; the last re-
fers to the period between 1056 and 1153, and is a
valuable piece of histor)-. Posterior to the year last
mentioned Fordun has only written detached notes,
which, however, are themselves of no small value
for the facts which they contain. When the vener-
able canon found himself too infirm to continue his
labours, he committed the materials which he had
collected to Walter Bower, who, as noticed else-
where, became abbot of Inchcolm in 141 8, and by
whom the work was brought down to the year 1436.
The Scotkhronkon was afterwards copied in various
monasteries, and has accordingly been handed down
in several shapes, each slightly different from the
other, under the titles of the Book of Scone, the
Book of Paisley, and other denominations. Finally,
the earlier part formed a substructure for the ampli-
fied work of Hector Boece, and the elegant one of
Buchanan. The work itself has been twice printed,
first at Oxford, by Heame, in five vols. 8vo, and
afterwards at Edinburgh in one volume folio, \»ith a
preface by Goodal ; but a translation is still a desider-
atum in Scottish historical literature.

FORDYCE, D.A.VID, professor of philosophy in
the Marischal College, Aberdeen, and author of
several esteemed works, was one of the tvventy-one
children of Provost Fordyce of that city, and whose
wife was a sister of Alexander and Thomas Black-
well, whose lives have appeared previously in this
work. The father of the Blackwells was professor
of di\-inity, Dr. Thomas Blackwell became professor
of Greek, and his widow founded a chemical chair
in Marischal College, which has thus become identi-
fied with the history of both the Fordyces and the
Blackwells. Da%-id Fordyce was bom in 1711, and
was the second son of his parents. To quote the

GEORGE EORDYCE.

53

only accessible authority respecting him' — -After be-
ing educated at the grammar-school of his native
city, he was entered of Marischal College in 1724,
where he went through a course of philosophy under
Professor Daniel Jarden, and of mathematics under
Mr. John Stewart. He took his degree of A.M. in
1728, when he was but little more than seventeen
years old. Being intended for the church, his next
application was to the study of divinity, under the
professor of that branch, Mr. James Chalmers, a
man of great learning and piety, and ancestor of the
individuals who have so long carried on the Aber-
dan JourmiL newspaper. Mr. Fordyce studied
divinity with great ardour, and in time obtained a
license as a preacher of the gospel, though he was
not so fortunate as to procure a living. In 1742 he
was appointed professor of moral philosophy in
Marischal College, a chair which then demanded a
greater range of accomplishments than now. It was
the duty of Mr. Fordyce, not only to deliver the
usual philosophic lectures, but to give instructions
in a similar manner on natural history, chronology,
Greek and Roman antiquities, mechanics, optics,
and astronomy; and it is acknowledged that he ac-
quitted himself of this laborious task in a very respect-
able manner. The connection of some of his col-
leagues with the literary system of the metropolis
appears to have introduced Mr. Fordyce to the
celebrated Dodsley, by whom he was employed to
write the article "Moral Philosophy" for the Modern
Preceptor; a task which he performed in so creditable
a manner, that it was afterwards found necessary to
publish his work in an independent form, under the
title of lyie Elements of Moral Philosophy. It ap-
peared in 1754, and was undoubtedly the most ele-
gant and useful compendium of moral science which
had then been given to the public. Previously to
this, Mr. Fordyce had attracted some notice as an
author, though without his name, in Dialogues con-
cerning Education, the first volume of which was
published in 1745, and the second in 1748. It is
a work of very considerable merit, but somewhat
tinged by the fopperies of the school of Shaftesbury,
although entirely free from its more injurious notions.
He was engaged in other literary designs, and af-
forded the promise of rising to great eminence in the
world, when he was cut off by a premature death.
In 1750 he made a tour through France, Italy, and
other countries, with a particular view to visit Rome,
and was returning home in 1 751 when he unhappily
lost his life in the forty-first year of his age, by a
storm on the coast of Holland.' His death is pathe-
tically noticed by his brother Dr. James Fordyce,
in his Addresses to the Deity, and an epitaph from
the same pen, conceived in a somewhat bombastical
style, will be found in the Gentleman's Magazine for
1796.

FORDYCE, George, a distinguished physician
and lecturer on medicine, was born at Aberdeen,
November 18, 1736, and was the only and post-
humous child of Mr. George Fordyce, a brother of
the other three distinguished persons of the same
name recorded in the present work, and the pro-
prietor of a small landed estate, called Broadford,

1 An unpublished article of the Biographia Brilannica,
quoted in Chalmers' Getieral Biographical Dictionary.

* The posthumous works of this ingenious person were —
Tkeoiiorus, a Dialogtie concertiiiig the Art 0/ Preaching,
i2mo, which is a work of considerable uti'ity to young divines,
and has been repeatedly printed, along with his brother. Dr.
James Fordyce's sermon on The Eloquence of the Pulpit; and
Tlu Temple of I'irtue, a Dream, which was given to the
world in 1757, with some additions by the same distinguished
relative.

in the neighbourhood of that city. Ilis mother, not
long after, marrying again, he was taken from her,
when about two years old, and sent to Foveran, at
which place he received his school education. He
was removed thence to the university of Aberdeen,
where he was made M.A. when only fourteen years
of age. In his childhood he had taken great delight
in looking at vials of coloured liquids which were
placed at the windows of an apothecary's shop. To
this circumstance, and to his acquaintance with the
learned Alexander Garden, M.D., many years a phy-
sician in South Carolina, and latterly in London,
but then apprentice to a surgeon and apothecary in
Aberdeen, he used to attribute the resolution he
vei7 early formed to study medicine. He was in
consequence sent, when about fifteen years old, to
his uncle, Dr. John Fordyce, who, at that time,
practised medicine at Uppingham, in Northampton-
shire. With him he remained several years, and
then went to the university of Edinburgh, where,
after a residence of about three years, he received
the degree of M.D., in October, 1758. His inaugu-
ral dissertation was upon catarrh. While at Edin-
burgh, Dr. Cullen was so much pleased with his
diligence and ingenuity, that, besides showing him
many other marks of regard, he used frequently to
give him private assistance in his studies. The pupil
was ever after grateful for this kindness, and was
accustomed to speak of his preceptor in terms of the
highest respect, calling him often "his learned and
revered master." About the end of 1758 he came
to London, but went shortly after to Leyden, for the
purpose chiefly of studying anatomy under Albinus.
He returned in 1759 to London, where he soon de-
termined to fix himself as a teacher and practitioner
of medicine. When he made known this intention
to his relations, they highly disapproved of it, as the
whole of his patrimony had been expended upon his
education. Inspired, however, with that confidence
which frequently attends the conscious possession
of great talents, he persisted in his purpose, and,
before the end of 1 759, commenced a course of lec-
tures upon chemistry. This was attended by nine
pupils. In 1 764 he began to lecture also upon materia
Tuedica and the practice of physic. These three sub-
jects he continued to teach nearly thirty years, giving,
for the most part, three courses of lectures on each
of them every year. A course lasted nearly four
months ; and, during it, a lecture of nearly an hour
was delivered six times in the week. His time of
teaching commenced about seven o'clock in the morn-
ing, and ended at ten ; his lecture upon the three
above-mentioned subjects being given, one imme-
diately after the other. In 1765 he was admitted a
licentiate of the College of Physicians. In 1770 he
was chosen physician to St. Thomas's Hospital, after
a considerable contest with Sir William (then Dr.)
Watson ; the number of votes in his favour being
109, in that of Dr. Watson 106. In 1774 he became
a member of the Literary Club ; and in 1776 was
elected a fellow of the Royal Society. In 1787 he
was admitted a fellow of the College of Physicians.
No circumstance can demonstrate more strongly the
high opinion entertained of his abilities by the rest
of the profession in London, than his reception into
that body. He had been particularly active in the
dispute which had existed about twenty years before
between the fellows and licentiates, and had, for this
reason, it was thought, forfeited all title to be ad-
mitted into the fellowship through favour. But the
college, in 1787, were prejiaring a new edition of
their Pharmacopa-ia ; and there was confessedly no
one of their own number well acquainted with phar-
maceutical chemistry. They wisely, therefore, sup«

56

GEORGE FORDYCE JAMES FORDYCE.

pressed their resentment of his former conduct, and,
by admitting him into tiicir body, secured his assist-
ance in a work wliicli tliey were unaljle to perform
well themselves. In 1793 he assisted in forming a
small society of physicians and surgeons, which after-
wards published several volumes, under the title of
lih'dual and Chirurgical Transactions; and continued
to attend its meetings most punctually till within a
month or two of his death.

Having thus mentioned some of the principal
events of his literary life, we shall next give a list
of his various medical and philosophical works; and
first, of those which were published by himself: — I.
Elciiunts of AgriciiUure and I'egetalion. lie had
given a course of lectures on these subjects to
some young men of rank ; soon after the close of
which one of his hearers, Mr. Stuart Mackenzie,
presented him with a copy of them from notes he
had taken while they were delivered. Dr. Fordyce
corrected the copy, and afterwards published it under
the above-mentioned title. — 2. Elements of the Prac-
tice of Physic. This was used by him as a text-book
for a part of his course of lectures on that subject.
— 3. A Treatise on the Digestion of Food. It was ori-
ginally read before the College of Physicians as the
Guelstonian Lecture. — 4. Four Dissertations on Fever.
A fifth, which completes the subject, was left by him
in manuscript, and afterwards published. His other
works appeared in the Philosophical Transactions,
and \.\\ii. Medical ami Chirurgical Transactions. In
the former are eight papers by him, with the follow-
ing titles: — I. "Of the Light produced by Inflam-
mation." 2. "Examination of various Ores in the
Museum of Dr. W. Hunter." 3. "A New Method
of assaying Copper Ores." 4. "An Account of
some Experiments on the Loss of Weight in Bodies
on being Melted or Heated." 5. "An Account of
an Experiment on Heat." 6. "The Cronian Lec-
ture on Muscular Motion." 7. "On the Cause of
the Additional Weight which Metals acquire on
being Calcined." 8. "Account of a New Pendulum,
being the Bakerian Lecture." His papers in the
Medical and Chirnrgical Transactions are: — I. "Ob-
servations on the Small-pox, and Causes of Fever."
2. "An Attempt to improve the Evidence of Medi-
cine." 3. Some Observations upon the Composi-
tion of Medicines." He was, besides, the inventor
of the experiments in heated rooms, an account of
which was given to the Royal Society by Sir Charles
Bladgen; and was the author of many improvements
in various arts connected with chemistry, on which
he used frequently to be consulted by manufacturers.

Though the subject of this memoir had projected
various literary works in addition to those which
have been mentioned, nothing was left by him in
manuscript, except the Dissertations on /mv- already
spoken of, and two introductory lectures, one to his
course of materia tnedica, the other to that of the
practice of physic. This will not ajipear extraordin-
ary to those who knew what confidence he had in the
accuracy of his memory. He gave all his lectures
without notes, and perhaps never possessed any; he
took no memorandum in writing of the engagements
he formed, whether of business or pleasure, and was
always most punctual in observing them; and when
he composed his works for the public, even such as
describe successions of events bound together, as far
as we can perceive, by no necessary tie, his materials,
such at least as were his own, were altogether drawn
from stores in his memory, which had often been
laid up there many years before. In consequence
of this retentiveness of memory, and of great reading
and a most inventive mind, he was, perhaps, more
generally skilled in the sciences which are either

directly subser\'ient to medicine, or remotely con-
nected with it, than any other person of his time.
One fault in his character as an author ])robably
arose, either wholly or in part, from the very excel-
lence which has been mentioned. This was his de-
ficiency in the art of literary composition, the know-
ledge of which he might have insensibly acquired
to a much greater degree than was possessed by him,
had he felt the necessity in his youth of frequently
committing his thoughts to writing, for the purpose
of preserving them. But, whether this be just or
not, it must be confessed that, notwithstanding his
great learning, which embraced many subjects no
way allied to medicine, he seldom wrote elegantly,
often obscurely and inaccurately ; and that he fre-
quently erred with respect even to orthography. His
language, however, in conversation, which confirms
the preceding conjecture, was not less correct than
that of most other persons of good education. As
a lecturer, his delivery was slow and hesitating, and
frequently interrupted by pauses not required by his
subject. Sometimes, indeed, these continued so
long, that persons unaccustomed to his manner were
apt to fear that he was embarrassed. But these dis-
advantages did not prevent his having a considerable
number of pupils, actuated by the expectation of re-
ceiving from him more full and accurate instruction
than they could elsewhere obtain. His person is
said to have been handsome in his youth ; but his
countenance, from its fulness, must have been always
inexpressive of the great powers of his mind. His
manners too were less refined, and his dress in gene-
ral less studied, than what most p.ersons in this coun-
try regard as proper for a physician. From these
causes, and from his spending no more time with his
patients than what was sufficient for his forming a
just opinion of their ailments, he had for many years
but little private employment in his profession ; and
never, even in the latter part of his life, when his
reputation was at its height, enjoyed nearly so much
as many of his contemporaries. It is worthy of men-
tion, however, that the amount of his fees during
the year immediately preceding his decease, was
greater, notwithstanding his advanced age and infirm
health, than it had ever been before in the same
space of time. He had always been fond of the
pleasures of society ; and in his youth, to render the
enjoyment of them compatible with his pursuits after
knowledge, he used to sleep very little. He has
often, indeed, been known to lecture for three hours
in a morning without having undressed himself the
preceding night. The vigour of his constitution
enabled him to sustain, for a considerable time, with-
out apparent injury, this debilitating mode of life.
But at length he was attacked with gout, which
afterwards became irregular, and for many years
frequently affected him with excniciating pains in his
stomach and bowels. In the latter part of his life,
also, his feet and ancles were almost constantly
swollen; and, shortly before his death, he had symp-
toms of water in the chest. But these he disregarded,
and uniformly attributed his situation, which for
several weeks previous to his death he knew to be
hopeless, to the presence of the first-mentioned
disease. Death ultimately relieved him from his
sufferings. May 25, 1802, when he was in the sixty-
fourth year of his age. By his wife, who was the
(laughter of Charles Stuart, Esq., conservator of
Scots privileges in the United Netherlands, and
whom he had married in 1 762, he left four children
— two sons and two daughters.

FORDYCE, James, D.D., author of the Sermofis
to } 'otnig Women, was a younger brother of the sub-

JAMES FORDYCE.

57

jects of two separate articles, and the fourth son of
his parents. He was born at Aberdeen in 1720, and
received the education requisite for a minister of the
Scottish church at the Marischal College. In 1752
he was appointed minister of Brechin, but soon after
was removed to Alloa, where at first he had many
prejudices to encounter, though his popular manners
and captivating style of pulpit oratory enabled him
very speedily to overcome them. During his brief
residence in this parish he published three occasional
sermons, which attracted much notice; and in 1760
he increased his fame to a great degree by a discourse
On the Folly, lu/amy, and Muery of Unla'wful Plea-
sures, which he preached before the General Assembly,
and afterwards gave to the public. The novelty of
this sermon in a country where all the best sermons
were evangelical, and the elegance of its style and
sentiments, produced a great impression throughout
the country. The preacher soon after went to Lon-
don, and notwithstanding the difference between the
Scottish Confession of Faith and the tenets of the
English dissenters, offered himself on a vacancy at
the meeting in Carter Lane, but without success.
About this time he received the degree of D.D.
from the university of Glasgow, and was invited by
the meeting in Monkwell Street to be co-pastor with
Dr. Lawrence, then aged and infirm. This invita-
tion he accepted, and upon Dr. Lawrence's death,
which happened soon after, he became sole pastor,
and entered into the enjoyment of a very respectable
income. During his ministry in this place he ac-
quired a higher degree of popularity than probably
ever was attained by the same means. The strong
force of his eloquence drew men of all ranks and all
persuasions to hear him. His action and elocution
were original and peculiarly striking, being not a
little assisted by his figure, which was tall beyond
the common standard, and by a set of features which
in preaching displayed great variety of expression
and animation. Besides his regular attendants, who
subscribed to his support, his meeting was frequented
by men curious in eloquence; and it is said that the
celebrated David Garrick was more than once a
hearer, and spoke of Dr. Fordyce's skill in oratory
with great approbation. With respect to his theo-
logical sentiments, he appears to have possessed that
general liberality which is civil to all systems, with-
out being attached to any. From his printed works
it would be easier to prove that he belonged to no
sect, than that he held the principles of any. As to
the matter, morality appears to have been his chief
object ; and as to the manner, he ardently studied a
polish and a spirit which was then seldom met with
in English pulpits, although it had not been unusual
in those of France.

In 1771 Dr. Fordyce married Miss Henrietta Cum-
myngs; and in 1775 he was involved in an unhappy
dispute with his coadjutor, Mr. Toller, son-in-law
to Dr. Lawrence. This misunderstanding originated
in some omission of ceremonial politeness between
the two reverend gentlemen, and from the want of
inutual concession the breach widened, till reconcilia-
tion became impossible. Dr. Fordyce appears, in-
deed, to have been of an irritable temper, which led
him on this occasion to be guilty of an act which
ultimately he had reason deeply to regret, as it
proved most injurious to his own interest. For, on
undertaking to perform the whole duty of the chapel,
he possessed sufficient influence to have Mr. Toller
ejected from the pastoral charge. The consequence
was, that the congregation became dissatisfied, split
into parties, and gradually dispersed, when Dr. For-
dyce was obliged to resign the ministry. It is true
that bad health and the infirmities of old a<:e had

their share in constraining him to this ste]>, but the
congregation had previously almost entirely deserted
the chapel, which was soon after shut up. Findmg
himself no longer useful as a preacher. Dr. Fordyce,
in the year 1783, left London, and retired first to
Hampshire, and finally to Bath, where he continued
to reside until his death, which took place on the 1st
of October, 1796, in the seventy-sixth year of his
age. We have in the following letter from Mrs.
Fordyce a very interesting and instructing narrative
of this melancholy event, while it presents, at the
same time, a lively picture of Dr. Fordyce's piety
and of some of the more amiable traits of his char-
acter.

"My dear Sir, — Being now able to sit up, I can
only say, that had the state of my health when your
last soothing but affecting letter came to hand ad-
mitted of my writing at all, such a letter from a
favourite friend would have impelled me to give
it an immediate reply. Accept, dear sir, of my
gratitude for what it contained, especially for that
sympathy I so much stand in need of; it is the balm
of true friendship; and though it reaches me from
various quarters, still the wound bleeds, and will
continue to bleed till God shall heal it by that re-
union of souls which must take place ere long.

"Hardly two people accost each other without a
eulogium on his character, and a sigh for his death;
but death it was not. To all human appearance he
was translated. We spent a most agreeable evening
together in my dressing-room, in which he was fond
of sitting, on account of the fine air of the vale
behind and the prospect; for he still kept his relish
for all that was beautiful in nature. We were both
engrossed with William Cowper's sermon to the
Jews.

"I read the hymns and psalms in the little pam-
phlet. 'Ah!' said he, 'this carries me back to
Monkwell Street, where we sang it together with my
beloved flock; the strain shall be exalted when next
we sing it.' Then turning to me, he said, 'We
have read enough for to-night; before you call for
supper let us have some music' My niece is a very
fine performer; she immediately sat down to accom-
pany him in some of his favourite airs on the piano-
forte; and a very fine cadence she sung so delighted
him, that he made her do it over again, and turning
to me, he said, 'How many things have we to be
grateful for ! The musical ear is a gift peculiar to
some, withheld from others; there are many things
in life richly to be enjoyed; all that leads up to God
we may delight in, but whatever has no reference to
him we should avoid. There are books called reli-
gious offices, preparations for the sacrament, and
preparations for death, &c. ; but for my own part, I
never could think that such preparations consisted in
such times being set apart for offices, and then re-
turning to the world as having done with heaven for
the time being. A man is not truly prepared for
death unless by the tenor of his life he feels himself
so wholly given up to God that his mind is in heaven
before he goes hence; and he can only bring himself
to that by the perpetual silent reference in all his
words, thoughts, and actions to his Creator, which
I have so often mentioned to you.' I replied, 'That
indeed, doctor, is the test or criterion to judge himself
by, for a man dare have no reference or appeal for
his actions to God if his deeds condemn him to his
own conscience.' 'God be praised!' said he; 'if I
should leave you, I desire you may avail yourself of
them. In addition to religion and the Scri[>tures
there are books, friendships, and music : I would
name more, but these are sufficient ; cast yourself on
God through your Redeemer. He will care for you

58

JAMES FORDYCE JOHN FORDYCE.

and raise you up friends.' I aimed at changing; the
conversation, and said, ' But you are better, my dear. '
'I am certainly easier,' he replied, 'and have had less
pain and better symptoms for two or three weeks
past; and I assure you, my beloved, I am not tired
of life at all: for though the Almighty knows I have
been long ready for the summons, yet if it is his
pleasure to let the lamp of life burn on a little longer,
I am satisfied, and I am his.'

" He sat his usual time after supper, which he par-
took of in a moderate way, without any disrelish.
About eleven he rang for the servants, who with my
niece and myself attended him everj' night to his
bed-chamber. To my unspeakable joy it seemed to
cost him much less effort than common to mount the
stairs, which formerly was so painful a task, that at
every landing-place a chair was set for him to rest on
ere he could ascend to the ne.xt. He joined us all in
observing with gratitude and wonder that he should
gain more ease by living longer. He and I conversed
in a very pleasing style on various subjects till about
one o'clock, and then he urged my going to bed, lest
I should be hurt by such late hours. He also for-
bade me to get up in the night, as an.xiety about him
had often made me do, unless I should hear him call
me; he made me promise I would not, after which
we embraced. I left him very happy, comfortable,
and serene, I might add even cheerful. We both
slept in our different apartments, and mine had a
door of communication with his, so he could not stir
without my hearing. He awoke about two o'clock
and lighted a wa.x bougie at his lamp, one of which
stood on a dumb-waiter at his bed-side with his
medicines and cordials. He lighted it to take the
ethereal spirit; but forgetting to blow it out, it un-
luckily took fire in the bunch, the smell of which
awoke him perhaps in some alarm. He then called
to me, who was just in my first sleep, and springing
up eagerly in the dark I stumbled, and struck my
head against the door ; the blow for a kw minutes
stunned me, and made me reel in coming up to him.
I affected to be well that he might not be alarmed.
' I called to you, my love, lest the smell of fire which
the bougie occasioned might have frightened you.
You have paid dear for coming to me by this blow.'
Saying so he got up, and calling the women with a
firm voice three or four times, they and my niece
were all at once with us. I was praying him to re-
t irn to bed, but he refused until he should get me,
from their hands, some sal volatile. He then said,
'.\re you better?' I answered, 'O well, well.'
'God be praised,' said he, raising his hands, and
with the words in his mouth he fell in our arms
without a groan, a sigh, or so much as the rattle in
the throat. The spirit was instantly fled, and for
ever, to the God that gave it. He was taken from
my arms who will ever live in my heart, and I saw
him no more."

Dr. Fordyce's first literary attempt was made as
editor of the posthumous work of his brother, Mr.
David Fordyce, published in 1752, entitled The Art
of Preaching. But he is best known to the world by
the ingenious and elegant sermons which he addressed
to young women, and his addresses to young men.
He was author, however, of several other publica-
tions, ' and was remarkable for the energy and use-

' The following is a list of Dr. Fordyce's works: —

1. ''The Eloquence of the Pulpit, an Ordination Sermon,
to which is added a Charge," lamo, 1752.

2. "An Essay on the Action proper for the Pulpit," lamo.
Both these are published at the end of "Theodonis, a Dialogue
concerning the Art of Preaching, by David Fordyce," 3d
edition, ismo, 1755.

3. "The Method of Edification by Pub'ic Instruction," an
Ordination Sermon, to which is added a Charge, i2mo, 1754.

fulness of his pulpit instructions. His piivate char-
acter was amiable, his manners those of a gentleman
and Christian. He blended great cheerfulness with
sincere and ardent piety. He possessed a cultivated
understanding, a warm heart, and great liberality of
sentiment. He was a steady friend of civil and reli-
gious toleration— not from indifference, but from a
true spirit of Christian philanthropy.

FORDYCE, Colonel John, a brave and pious
officer, who fell in the Kaffir war in 185 1, was the
eldest son of Thomas J. Fordyce, Esq., of Ay ton,
Berwickshire, an extensive landed proprietor of
great worth and intelligence. Under the parental
roof he was trained from his earliest years in the
best lessons of a religious education. His accom-
plished and truly Christian mother, who "had no
greater joy than to see her children walking in the
truth," was her son's faithful instructress in that
knowledge which maketh wise unto salvation. A
portion of the .sacred volume was committed each
morning to memory, and around the family altar
prayer was offered daily to the Lord. At the age of
twelve the subject of this memoir had mastered
several of the higher Latin classics, and acquired a
tolerable knowledge of Greek. For the acquisition
of languages he discovered peculiar aptitude, analyz-
ing with much facility the passages of his favourite
authors. It was manifest, from the enthusiasm with
which he followed Caesar and Hannibal, and other
heroes of antiquity, through their respective fields
of conflict, that he was destined for a militarj' life.
The v.Titer of these observations has a vivid recol-
lection of the graphic skill with which, after rising
from the pages of Livy or Tacitus, he described the
successes or discomfitures of the combatants, and
pronounced on the equity or injustice of the causes
of warfare. Before leaving home for a private semi-
nary in England, he was thoroughly conversant with
the works of our best modem historians, travellers,
and poets. After his return, he completed his
literary curriculum in Edinburgh, and was resident
for some time with Doctor (now Bishop) Terrot,
enjoying under his able superintendence advantages
equivalent to those of an English university.

His first commission as an ensign in the 34th regi-
ment was dated in 1828. He served with that corps
(then in Nova Scotia) until 1832, when he obtained
an unattached lieutenancy. The same year, how-
ever, he returned to full pay, first in the 94th, and
soon after in the 21st. He served with the 21st
North British fusiliers until 1836, when he obtained
his company in the 35th regiment, from which he

These were delivered at the ordination of Mr. John Gibson,
minister of St. Ninians, May 9th, 1754.

4. "The Temple of Virtue," a Dream, i2mo, 1747. 2d
edition, much altered, 1755.

5. "The Folly, Infamy, and Misery of Unlawful Pleasures,"
a Sermon preached before the General Assembly of the Church
of Scotland, 25th May, 1760 — 8vo, 1760.

6. "A Sermon occasioned by the Death of the Rev. Dr.
Samuel Lawrence, who departed this Life ist October, 1760,
with an Address at his Interment," 8vo, 1760.

7. "Sermons to Young Women," 2 vols. i2mo, 1766.

8. "The Character and Conduct of the Female Sex, and the
Advantages to be derived by Young Men from the Society of
Virtuous Young Women;" a Discourse in three parts, delivered
in Monkwell Street Chapel, ist January, 1776; 8vo, 1776.

9. "Addresses to Young Men," 2 vols. i2mo, 1777.

10. "The Delusive and Persecuting Spirit of Popery:" a
.Sermon preached in the Monkwell Street Chapel on the loth
of February, being the day appointed for the General Fast,
8vo, 1779.

11. "Charge delivered in Monkwell Street Chapel, at the
Ordination of the Rev. James Lindsay," Svo, 1783. Printed
with the Sermon delivered by Dr. Hunter on that occasion.

12. "Addresses to the Deity," i2mo.

13. " Poems," i2mo, 17S6.

JOHN FORDYCE.

59

exchanged into the nth foot in 1S39. Having in
1844 obtained liis step as major in the latter regi-
ment, he exchanged the same year into the 74th
Highlanders. In 1846 he became lieutenant-colonel
and commanding officer of this regiment, in wiiich
important position he gained the esteem of the miH-
tai-y authorities, and the affection of all who served
under him. Though possessed of a good private
fortune, so strong was his esprit de corps, that in
March, 1S51, he embarked with his regiment for
the Cape of Good Hope, where, after months of
severe and harassing warfare, he fell at the head of
his beloved Highlanders, in the prime of manhood,
and with a name already one of renown.

Endowed with a masculine understanding, a capa-
cious and retentive memory, an indomitable perse-
verance, ample promise was afforded of literary dis-
tinction. Highly gifted as was his intellect, which,
as if by intuition, separated the accessories from the
essentials of any subject, his moral qualities com-
manded still higher admiration. His bosom was the
very home of honour and generosity. "Truth in
the inward parts, "manly independence in forming his
opinions, and unflinching courage in expressing them,
were united with the meekness of wisdom and an
unaffected modesty of demeanour which shrank with
sensitive aversion from all ostentatious display. In
personal appearance Colonel Fordyce was consider-
ably above the ordinaiy height, with a high mas-
sive forehead, and a countenance which revealed
profound thought, calm decision of purpose, and
delicate sensibility. There was frequently also a
look of pensive reflection, which indicated that he
had been no stranger to the afflictions and sorrows
of life. By a stranger, indeed, he might sometimes
appear chargeable with a degree of reserve, border-
ing even on haiitciir ; but those who knew him
thoroughly could best appreciate the depth and con-
stancy of his friendships, and his warm-hearted sym-
pathy with his fellow-men, both "of high and of
low degree."

Deprived in youth of his excellent parents, to
whom he was ever a dutiful and loving sort, he ful-
filled with unwearied fidelity and tenderness the
part of an elder brother towards all the other mem-
bers of the family.

In no feature of character was Colonel Fordyce
more remarkable than in his strict conscientiousness.
Every transaction, private or public, was conducted
with a sacred regard to the authority and the glory
of God. This profound sense of responsibility for his
stewardship distinguished him not only in the more
prominent departments of duty, but in the most
minute details of every-day life. As an officer who
had been called to occupy a high position in the
British army, he was ardently and indefatigably de-
voted to his professional avocations ; cheerfully ex-
pending time and strength and pecuniary resources
in promoting the temporal and spiritual welfare of
the regiment which he commanded. Whilst sta-
tioned in Glasgow, opportunities were incidentally
afforded for marking the solicitude which he evinced
in regard to the intellectual and moral improvement
of soldiers' children ; using all practicable means,
by week-day and Sabbath schools, that they might
be trained to a virtuous life.

The 74th, with their gallant colonel, were ordered
from Glasgow to Clonmel, Ireland. The following
n jtice from the Rev. Mr. Dill testifies to the estima-
tion in which he was held in that place : —

"Sir, — The death of Lieutenant-colonel Fordyce,
74th Highlanders, has been felt as a personal be-
reavement by all who knew him. Clonmel was the
last home-station of the 74th, where, after eight

months' residence, they received orders for foreign
service in November, 1850. To those even slightly
acquainted with the army it will not sound strange
to hear, in the published accounts from the Cape,
'that the whole colony deplores the loss of this noble
officer. Both men and officers feel his loss severely,
and at this juncture the loss the service has sustained
is incalculable.' But those who knew Colonel
Fordyce, not only as a soldier but as a man and a
Christian, can truly estimate his loss to his regiment
and his country. As chaplain to the 74th High-
landers I had frequent opportunity of meeting and
observing him. I can truly say that under God he
devoted himself to his regiment and the service.
Though not a member of the Presbyterian church, he
was never absent from his pew on the Lord's-day.
I continually found him superintending the regimental
Sabbath and week-day schools, and could trace his
kind advice and charity everj'where among the sick
in hospital, the families and recruits of his regiment.
On the evening before the 74th Highlanders left
Clonmel for the Cape of Good Hope he called, and
handed me ;^io for charitable purposes, requesting
that I should not give his name as the donor. Be-
sides this he had given, through my name, within
the three preceding months, ;^I5 to other charities.
What his other donations were I know not. From
what I have heard they must have been numerous,
as I am sure they w'ere unostentatious. The la-
mentable death of Colonel Fordyce affords me the
sad pleasure of acknowledging the benevolence and
worth which he would not permit to be made known
while he was alive. I feel his death as if it were a
personal bereavement, and I pray that our army may
be blessed by many such officers. — I remain, yours
truly, John Dill.

"Manse, Clonmel, loth Jan. 1852."

As evincing the Christian and philanthropic spirit
by which Colonel Fordyce was animated, one or two
extracts from his letters to the writer of these lines
may be given. The following was received after a
domestic bereavement : —

"My dear , — My having been sent from

Dublin with a flying column in pursuit of Smith
O'Brien and other rebels must be my apology for
not having written to acknowledge the receipt of the
announcement of the deprivation you have sustained,
and to assure you of my unfeigned sympathy. I may
express my hope that, sustained by the same consola-
tions which you have been so long the honoured
instalment of imparting to others, your own bodily
health and ability for active exertion may remain
unimpaired.

"I need not trespass upon you at this time with
any notice of the treasonable proceedings here. The
newspapers have given a full account of everjthing
that has occurred ; and so far as we (the column of
troops) are concerned, we have seen no enemy ex-
cepting the continual rain, which is, of course, a
very disagreeable one, as we have been marching
about and encamped since the 28th July. O'Brien
is, as you know, captured, and quietly lodged in
jail, and I have no doubt that all thought of open
armed rebellion is at an end for the present.

" However it may fare with this unfortunate
country, any one of common obsers'ation must see
that the whole European world is in an unprece-
dented state ; and that whatever may be our exact
place in the series of predicted events, some great
overwhelming change in the whole structure of
human society is impending. My reading of Elliot's
I/ora: Apocalyptia^ has been interrupted by my pres-
ent occupations, before I could get beyond the first
volume, or form any opinion as to his system of in-

6o

JOHN FORDYCE SIR WILLIAM FORDYCE.

terpretation of unfulfilled prophecy. Amidst all the
chanj^es, present and coming, upon this world, we
have individually many warnings to place our hopes
on a world where change and cares are alike un-
known,— considerations which it is superfluous in me
to suggest to your matured and practised mind, but
which rise naturally as the great subjects of the day
and hour. A tent does not afford a good writing-
table, and dani]) paper renders my writing more than

usually illegible. I trust that Mrs. is well; and

again assuring you of my good wishes, beg you to
believe me ever faithfully and sincerely yours,

"J. FORDYCE.

"Tipperary, nth August, 1 848."

The next extract is from a communication sent
after the death of General Sir John Buchan, Colonel
P'ordyce's uncle, and brother of the venerable Mr.
Buchan of Kelloe: —

" Although I take a Glasgow newspaper, the
Scottish Guardian, in which there is a full account
of the debates in your General Assembly, I have been
too much occupied with other matters to look at
them since my return, but I glanced at one speech
of Dr. Duff's regarding the Indian missions, which
appeared to be one of remarkable eloquence and
power. He must be indeed gifted with no common
energy of character, in addition to genius, eloquence,
and many acquirements, to be able to resist the de-
pressing lassitude of an oriental climate for so many
years, and now to electrify and command a critical
audience, as he appears to have done for hours during
the late meeting of the assembly."

A subsequent letter, of date Nov. 8, 1850, in-
closing a generous donation for the benefit of certain
Free Church students who were scantily provided,
contains the following remarks: — "I have read Dr.
Buchanan's book (the Ten Years' Conflict) with great
interest; and although I may confess to you that, as
to my personal taste, I prefer the liturgy and forms
of the Church of England, and cannot quite see that
principle required such a sacrifice as the disruption
of the Church of Scotland, I sincerely believe now
that the cause of the Free Church is in Scotland
the cause of Christianity, and that even persons
who have not the strong personal motives which I
have to look favourably upon its exertions, should,
with a cardinal at Westminster, sink all minor dif-
ferences in their support of Protestant Christianity."
"No one," writes his excellent brother. Major
Fordyce, who had shared along with him the toils
and perils of the disastrous struggle, "knew my
brother's state of mind better than I did; for I had
for a long time been constantly with him, and I knew
that he was a faithful follower of Christ, and he is
now where there is no more sorrow — no more pain.
What a great thing it is to have such consolation!
How much more dreadful would have been the sad
b.-reavement if we could not have felt the confidence
we do that he died a Christian, and that his removal
from this world was the end of all trial to him, and
the commencement of an eternity of joy!"

The following particulars of the death of this brave
ofTicer, who fell whilst fighting against the Kaffirs at
tlie Cape, are gleaned from letters which appear in
the Grahanistoion Journal, of 15th November: —

"Fort Beaufort, Tuesday. — After the publica-
tion of our extra, the following came to hand, and
contains an account of the melancholy fate of the
gallant Colonel Fordyce: —

"November 6. — This being the promised day, all
eyes were directed to the hills, which we knew to
have been planted with the instruments of thunder.
The clouds, however, lay piled in heaps long after
sunrise; but no sooner had the rays of his refulgence

escaped from the clouds which intercepted them,
than the curtain gradually rose, and by seven o'clock
the frequent report announced that another act of
the dull tragedy had commenced. Peal after peal
continued to reverberate among the steep acclivities
of the rocky eminences which rise above the dark
bush that conceals the enemy. Towards mid-day
the wind changed to the south-east, which wafted
the sounds from this direction. All were anxiously
awaiting the arrival of intelligence from the scene of
strife, as we had reason to believe that, from the
rapid reports, the conflict was maintained with
obstinacy and resolution. Hour succeeded hour,
until long after, when in broken accents it was re-
vealed that Colonel Fordyce had fallen. But as this
report rested upon the authority of a private letter
brought in by two mounted Fingoes, hopes were
entertained that, in the heat and bustle of the
moment, some mistake might have occurred. About
nine at night, however, the event was confirmed by
an eye-witness to the melancholy fact, from whom it
appears that the colonel was leading his men into
Waterkloof in column, when suddenly his march was
arrested by a rocky precipice which flanked him in
the form of a semicircle; here he found the rebels in
considerable force, who knew too well the rules of
military tactics to let so favourable an opportunity
escape for inflicting a penalty. The bayonets of our
brave countrymen in such a position were powerless;
they had therefore to contend against an enemy con-
cealed among inaccessible rocks, whom they could
not assail; and thus fell, while showing to his men
by example the first duties of a soldier, the good and
the gallant Fordyce. Thus fell the father of his
distinguished regiment, to the honour of which all
his impulses were directed. The soldier, the women
and children, to whose comforts he devoted himself
with parental solicitude, will long cherish his re-
membrance. It is to be regretted that so valuable
a life should have been sacrificed in so ignoble a
strife."

Extract from the leading article of the A'aval and
Milita)y Gazette, Februar)', 1852. . . . "And
here we may observe that there must have been
something singularly attractive in the noble soldier
who fell at the head of the 74th Highlanders, which,
in the short time (six months) he had been in the
colony, and in Grahamstown in particular, should
have so impressed and so endeared him to the in-
habitants that the journals of that town announcing
his death should be margined with black, and the
bell of their distant church has tolled his funeral
knell ; while the colours, half-mast high, floated
languidly in the air, in token of a hero's fall!"

FORDYCE, Sir William, F.R.S., a distin-
guished physician, was a younger brother of David
and James Fordyce, whose lives have already been
recorded, and was born in the year 1 724. Like his
brethren, he was educated at the Marischal College,
of which he died lord-rector. At the age of eighteen
he finished his academic studies, in which he had
distinguished himself particularly by his proficiency
in Greek and mathematics, the most solid as well as
the most ornamental parts of academic knowledge.
Having studied physic and surgery under a native
practitioner, he joined the army as a volunteer, and
afterwards served as surgeon to the brigade of guards
on the coast of France and in all the military trans-
actions which took place in Germany. The warm
support of his military friends co-operated with his
own merit in early recommending him to distinguished
practice in London. His publications, particularly
his treatise on fevers and ulcerated sore throat,

ROBERT FORREST

WILLIAM FORSYTH,

6t

greatly extended his fame ; and he was sent for to
greater distances, and received larger fees, than ahnost
any physician of his time. The wealth which he
thus acquired he liberally expended in benevolent
actions, and was thus the means of doing much good
as well as some harm. Having patronized his brother
Alexander, who was a banker in London, he enabled
that individual to enter upon an unusually extensive
series of transactions, which, though sound in them-
selves, exposed him to a malevolent combination of
his brethren in trade, and hence the great bankruptcy
of Fordyce & Co., which may be termed one of the
most important domestic events in Britain during the
latter part of the eighteenth century. Besides the
losses which Sir WiUiam Fordyce thus incurred, he
soon after became engaged for j{^io,C)00 more, which
was lost by his brother in the project of a manufacture
which totally failed ; and had it not been for the
generosity of the Messrs. Drummond, bankers, who
advanced him the necessary sum, he must have sub-
mitted to a loss of personal liberty. Notwithstand-
ing these severe shocks to his fortune, Sir William
continued to maintain two poor families whom he
had taken under his patronage, and who had no other
resource. It is also to be mentioned, to the honour
of this excellent man, that, besides his own losses by
Alexander, he repaid those incurred by his brother
James, amounting to several thousand pounds. The
benevolence of Sir William Fordyce was a kind of
enthusiasm. When he heard of a friend being ill,
he would run to give him his advice, and take no fee
for his trouble. His house was open to all kinds of
meritorious persons in distressed circumstances, and
he hardly ever wanted company of this kind. He
was also indefatigable in his good offices towards
young Scotsmen who had come to London in search of
employment. His address had much of the courtly
suavity of a past age, and his conversation, while
unassuming, was replete with elegant anecdote and
solid information. His eye beamed gentleness and
humanity, ennobled by penetration and spirit. Al-
though originally of a delicate constitution, by tem-
perance and exercise he preserved his health for
many years, but suffered at last a long and severe ill-
ness, which ended in his death, December 4, 1792.
Sir William, who had been knighted about 1787,
wrote a treatise on the Venereal Disease; another, as
already mentioned, on Fez'ers, and a third on Ulcer-
ated Sore Throat; besides which he published, im-
mediately before his death, a pamphlet on The Great
Importance and Proper Method 0/ cultivating Rhubarb
in Britain for Medicinal Uses.

FORREST, Robert. This self-taught sculptor
was born at Carluke, Lanarkshire, in 1790. He was
bred as a stone-mason in the quarries of Carluke;
but, having a spirit beyond his mechanical occupa-
tion, he employed his leisure hours in the higher
departments of stone-carving, imtil he obtained
notice and some distinction as a sculptor. This
recognition brought him occupation in the honour-
able profession he had adopted, and his first public
work was a statue of Sir William Wallace, executed
in 1 81 7, and which occupies a niche in the steeple
of Lanark parish church. After this he was com-
missioned to form the colossal statue, fourteen feet
in height, of the first Viscount Melville, which sur-
mounts the pillar copied from Trajan's Column at
Rome, and is erected in the centre of St. Andrew's
Square, Edinburgh. Another of his public works,
executed about the same time, was the statue of
John Knox which rears its commanding form in the
Necropolis of Glasgow, with an admonitory gesture
towards the ancient cathedral.

Stimulated by the public approbation which these
specimens produced, Robert Forrest opened in 1832
his public exhibition of statuary on the Calton Hill,
Edinburgh, with four equestrian statues, under the
patronage of a royal association of contributors to
the national monument. This was but the com-
mencement of a bold adventure, as thirty groups of
statues at last occupied his galler)-, all of them exe-
cuted by Forrest himself. In these not only the
remarkable industry, but the talent and genius, of
the artist are exhibited; the figures being exact in
their proportions, admirable in their attitudes, and
distinguished by their spirit and expressiveness. In
consequence of these merits F'orrest's exhibition on
the Calton Hill became a frequent resort of the in-
habitants of Edinburgh, and one of the lions of the
sight-seers who visited the metropolis. Besides these,
a statue from his chisel of the late Mr. Ferguson of
Raith, erected in 1843 at Haddington, is considered
as one of the best of his works. After an illness of
six weeks Robert Forrest died at Edinburgh, on the
29th of December, 1852, in the sixty-third year of
his age.

FORSYTH, William, distinguished in the science
of arboriculture, was born at Old Meldrum in Aber-
deenshire, in 1737. Having been bred to the busi-
ness of a gardener, he went to London in 1763, and
soon after became a pupil of the celebrated Philip
Miller, gardener to the company of apothecaries at
their physic-garden in Chelsea. In 1 771 he suc-
ceeded his master in this respectable situation, in
which he remained till 1 784, when he was appointed
by George III. chief superintendent of the royal
gardens at Kensington and St. James's, which em-
ployments he held till his death.

About the year 1768 Mr. Forsyth paid particular
attention to the cultivation of fruit and forest trees,
and turned his thoughts more especially to the dis-
covery of a composition to remedy the diseases and
injuries incident to them. After repeated trials he
at length succeeded in preparing one which fully an-
swered his expectations; and in the year 1789 the
success of his experiments attracted the notice of the
commissioners of the land revenue, upon whose re-
commendation a committee of both houses of parlia-
ment was appointed to report upon the merits of his
discovery. The result of their inquiries was a perfect
conviction of its utility, and in consequence an address
was voted by the House of Commons to his majesty,
praying that a reward might be granted to Mr. For-
syth upon his disclosing the secret of his composi-
tion to the public; which was accordingly done: and
in 1 79 1 Mr. Forsyth published his Obserz'ations on
the Diseases, Defects, and Injuries of Fruit and Forest
Trees, which also contains the correspondence between
the commissioners of the land revenue, the committee
of parliament, and himself. In 1802 he published
the final result of his labours in A Treatise on the
Culture and Management of Fruit Trees. In this
work, or in Fees^ Cyclopedia, article "Composition
for Trees," may be found a complete account of
Mr. Forsyth's discoveries and mode of treating in-
jured wood. It may be sufficient here to mention
that his composition or medicament was foiTned ac-
cording to the following receipt: "Take one bushel
of fresh cow-dung, half a bushel of lime-rubbish of
old buildings (that from the ceilings of rooms is pre-
ferable), half a bushel of wood-ashes, and a sixteenth
part of a bushel of pit or river sand; the three last
articles are to be sifted fine before they are mixed, then
work them well together with a spade, and aftenvards
with a wooden beater, until the stuff is verj- smooth,
like fine plaster used for the ceilings of rooms."

62

ROBERT AND ANDREW FOULIS.

Mr. Forsyth, who was a member of the Antiqua-
rian, Linnx-an, and other societies, died July 25,
1804. He enjoyed the honours paid to him for liis
useful invention with an unaffected modesty, which
gave them a higher grace; and his benevolence and
private worth were warmly attested by his friends.
A particular genus of plants has been named For-
sythia in honour of his name.

FOULIS, Robert and Andrew, emhient printers
in the eighteenth century, were natives of Glasgow,
and were born, the elder brother on the 20th of
April, 1707, and the younger on the 23d of Novem-
ber, 1 71 2. Their mother, who seems to have pos-
sessed shrewdness and intelligence beyond her station,
educated them at first under her own care, and had
not Robert's talents attracted attention they would
probably never have proceeded farther in the acqui-
sition of knowledge. At an early age Robert was
sent an apprentice to a barber; it would even seem that
he afterwards practised the art on his own account
for some time. While thus humbly employed, he
came under the notice of the celebrated Dr. Francis
Hutcheson, then professor of moral philosophy in
Glasgow university. This acute observer discovered
his talents, inflamed his desire for knowledge, and
suggested to him the idea of becoming a book-
seller and printer. Foulis did not, however, receive
a complete university education, although he attended
his patron's lectures for several years, and his name
is so enrolled in the matriculation book. Andrew,
who seems to have been designed for the church,
entered the university in 1727, and probably went
through a regular course of study.

For some years after they had determined to follow
a literary life the brothers were engaged in teaching
the languages during the winter, and in making
short tours into England and to the Continent in sum-
mer. These excursions were of great advantage to
them; they brought them into contact with eminent
men, enabled them to form connections in their busi-
ness, and extended their knowledge of books. On
some of these occasions they made considerable col-
lections, which they sold at home to good account.
Thus prepared, the elder brother began business in
Glasgow as a Vjookseller about the end of 1739, and
in the following year published several works. Three
years afterwards his connection with the university
commenced. In March, 1743, he was appointed
their printer, under condition, "that he shall not
use the designation of university printer without al-
lowance from the university meeting in any books
excepting those of ancient authors."' The fust pro-
ductions of his press, which were issued in 1742,
were almost exclusively of a religious nature, many
of them relating to the well-known George White-
field. In 1742 he published Demetrius Plialereus
de Elocutioiie, apparently the first Greek work printed
in Glasgow, although we are certain that there ex-
isted a fount of Greek letters there nearly a century
before. It would be tedious to notice each work as it
appeared: the immaculate edition of Horace, an
edition of Cicero's works in twenty volumes, Crcsar's
Commentaries in folio, Callimachus in tlje same size,
with engravings executed at their academy, form
but a small part of the splendid catalogue of their
classics.

The succcess which had attended their exertions
as printers induced the elder P'oulis to attem])t the
establishment of an academy for the cultivation of
the fine arts, a scheme for which Scotland was but

' The date . -It which Andrew joined him in business is some-
what uncertain.

ill prepared by the dissensions which had followed
the Union, and which had been succeeded by the re-
bellions of 1715 and 1745. In 1751 he went abroad,
partly with the view of extending his commercial
connections, but principally with the intention of
arranging for the establishment of this institution.
After remaining on the Continent for about two years,
and sending home several artists whom he had engaged
in his service, he returned to Scotland in 1753. His
design was considered romantic; many of his friends
exerted all their eloquence to persuade him to desist.
Hut Foulis, who possessed a degree of determination
which might perhaps not unjustly be termed obsti-
nacy, was fixed in his "high resolve," and although
he must have observed with mortification that {to
use his own expression) "there seemed to be a pretty
general emulation who should nin the scheme most
down," he established his academy in the course of
the same year. He soon found that he had embarked
in an undertaking of no common difficulty. From
a letter in the Scots Magazine for 1759 it appears
that the selection of proper teachers had cost him
much trouble and anxiety. He had to contend, be-
sides, with the national prejudices in favour of the
works of foreign artists; and after amassing a con-
siderable collection, he found it extremely difficult to
dispose of it to advantage. In the same year it was
proposed that such persons as were willing to support
the institution should advance certain sums yearly,
for which they should be entitled to select prints,
designs, paintings, &c., to the amount of their sub-
scriptions.

In the meantime, the operations of their press
went on with increasing vigour. If we may judge
from the catalogue of their books, the period between
1750 and 1757 seems to have been the most flourish-
ing era in their trade. During that time "proposals
for publishing^ by subscription the whole works of
Plato" were issued, and considerable progress made
in collating MSS. in the Vatican and national libra-
ries. But the embarrassments occasioned by the ill-
fated academy seem to have prevented the publica-
tion of this as well as many other works which might
have added much both to their fame and their wealth.
Yet while we condemn the obstinacy with which this
institution was carried on when it was a daily source
of anxiety and pecuniary difficulties, it should be re-
membered that it was the means of bringing forward
the "Scottish Hogarth" David Allan, and Tassie
the medallist. The latter of these, while a stone-
mason, acquired a relish for the arts in visiting the
academy on a holiday, when the pictures were gene-
rally exhibited gratis.

It would be foreign to the purpose of the present
work to notice the various books which issued from
the Foulis press at this and subsequent periods. It
may be sufficient to say, that in the latter part of
their history the brothers seem to have lost much of
their original energy, and the celebrity of their press
may be considered as expiring with their folio edition
of Milton, published in 1770. They continued, in-
deed, to print till the death of Andrew, which took
place suddenly on the 1 8th of September, I775> ''"'
many of the works published at that period were of
inferior workmanship.

We shall close the history of these remarkable but

* As a curious estimate of the expense of classical reading in
these days, we extract the first article in the proposals: — " I.
In nine volumes in quarto, of which the Greek in six volumes
and the Latin translation with the notes in three. The price
to subscribers, one penny sterling per sheet. The whole will
be contained in about 500 sheets, so the price will be about
£,1, IS. Stt. in quires, on a fair paper. A number will be
printed ou a fine large paper at twopence sterling per sheet."

LORD FOUNTAIXITALL

unfortunate men in a few words. After the death
of the younger brother it was determined to expose
the works belonging to the academy to public sale.
For this purpose Robert, accompanied by a confi-
dential workman, went to London about the month
of April, 1776. Contrary to the advice of the auc-
tioneer and at a period when the market was glutted
by yearly importations of pictures from Paris, his
collection was sold off — and, as the reader may have
anticipated, greatly under their supposed value. Ir-
ritated at the failure of this his last hope, and with
a constitution exhausted by calamities, he left London
and reached Edinburgh on his way homeward. On
the morning on which he intended setting out for
Glasgow he expired almost instantaneously, in the
sixty-ninth year of his age.

Robert Foulis was twice married. From his
second marriage, with a daughter of Mr. Boutcher, a
seedsman in Edinburgh, was descended Andrew
Foulis, who died at Edinburgh, in great poverty, in
1S29. lie had, besides, by his first marriage, with
Elizabeth Moor, a sister of the celebrated Grecian,
five daughters.

Of the Scottish works produced at the Foulis
press the greater number were ballads, some of them
original, and all of them since published in the col-
lections of Bishop Percy, Ritson, Cromek, &c. The
'■'■ Memorials and Letters Relating to the History of
Britain in the reigns of James I. and Charles I.,
published by Lord Hailes, principally from the
Denmylne ^ISS. in the Advocates' Library," were
also published at Glasgow. But the greatest service
that they could have performed for Scottish history
would have been the publication of Calderwood's
MS. history. This they undoubtedly had in view.
It appears from the records of the university of Glas-
gow that they got permission to borrow their MS.^
in September, 1768. They did not, however, accom-
plish their patriotic purpose, and this valuable work
remained unpublished until the task was fulfilled,
in 1845, by the Wodrow Society.

ROBERT ERASER.

63

FOUNTAINHALL, Lord. See Lauder, Sir
John.

ERASER, Ja:mes Baili.ie. This distinguished
traveller, popular writer, and accomplished country
gentleman belonged to a family of consequence in its
own locality, and was born in the county of Inver-
ness in 1784. In early life he was engaged in the
civil service of the East India Company, in which he
rose to distinction by his talents and activity. Upon
one occasion, while employed in a diplomatic mis-
sion of the East India Company to the Persian court,
he rode on horseback from Constantinople to Ispa-
han ; but the fatigues and hardships of such a jour-
ney were too much for even his Highland constitu-
tion, and gave it the first shock, which a further
residence in the East tended to confirm. When the
Persian princes visited England, Mr. Eraser, from
his position and accomplishments, and his knowledge
of Persia and its language, was requested by our
government to accompany them, and take charge of
them ; this task he satisfactorily accomplished, and
when the princes returned to their own country, he
accompanied them as far as Constantinople. As his
health had suffered from the eastern climate he
finally returned to England, and, abandoning the
toils of active public service, devoted the rest of
his life to the charms of literature, and the improve-
ment of his Highland estate of Reelick, in Inverness-
shire. These improvements were so effectual that
the property, considering its limited extent, was

1 It is not, however, the original MS,

scarcely to be equalled in the Highlands for its
magnificent woods and romantic scenery.

It was not, however, by such occupations alone that
the active mind of Eraser could be satisfied, and
having acquired much knowledge of the East by
personal experience, he was desirous to communicate
it to the world at large. Accordingly he wrote A
Toitr througli the Sno7oy Range of the I/iinalaya
Mountains, which was published in 1820; "y/ A'arra-
tivc of a Journey into Khorasan in the years 1821 and
1822, including an Account of the Countries to the
North-east of Persia," which was published in 1825;
and Travels and Adventures in the Persian Provinces,
published in 1826. Finding, however, that tlie pop-
ular taste for foreign lands, characters, and manners
preferred the medium of imaginative writing to that
of plain matter-of-fact narrative; and inspired by the
example of his friend Morier, who opened up Persia
and its people to the English public by a series of
fascinating novels, Mr. Eraser in 1828 produced The
Kuzzilbash, a Talc of Khorasan. This novel, which
was very attractive in its day, has shared the fate of
its contemporaries, notwithstanding the stirring ad-
ventures it recorded, and the terrible deeds of Nadir
Shah, its predominant personage ; and, like many
other interesting fictions of the period, we can only
say of the Kuzzilbash, that it lived its allotted hour
of sunshine, and then passed away. The next work
of Eraser was A Winter Journey f-orn Constantinople
to Teheran, with T?'avels tlirough Various Parts of
Persia, which appeared in 1838. His last work was
a memoir of the distinguished Colonel Skinner, who
had been the intimate friend of his brother William
Eraser. Like himself, William had entered the
civil service of the East India Company, where he
had risen to distinction, and been appointed com-
missioner at Delhi, but there he was assassinated by
a native prince in 1835.

In 1823 Mr. James Baillie Eraser married a
daughter of Lord Woodhouselee, and sister of Patrick
Eraser Tytler, author of the History of Scotland, &c.
In his retirement he was a deputy-lieutenant of the
county of Inverness. He died in the beginning of
1856, at the age of seventy-two.

FRASER, Robert. This poet, linguist, and
journalist, who was chiefly remarkable for his pur-
suit of knowledge under difficulties, was the son of a
mariner, and was born in the village of Pathhead,
parish of Dysart, Eifeshire, on the 24tli of June,
1 798. W'hen only four years old he commenced his
education in the village school, at which he continued
eighteen months ; afterwards he went to another
school, where he remained about four years ; and
finally was sent to the school of Pathhead, at which,
in 1809, he commenced the study of Latin. It was
that simple course of ordinary education without
which a young Scot at home can scarcely hold his
own, but with which, when abroad, he can start in
the career of life better equipped than his fellows,
and win his way to fame and fortune. In 1812
Robert Eraser was apprenticed to a wine and spirit
merchant in Kirkcaldy, in whose employ he continued
four years; but in I Si 3, being afflicted with an abscess
in his right arm, which confined him to the house
for several months, he betook himself to that course
of study in earnest which afterwards gave him a place
in literature. He matured his school-boy knowledge
of Latin, made considerable proficiency in Greek, and
to these added French and Italian, at a period when
the study of such languages was somewhat rare among
the common ranks in Scotland. In addition to these
studies he cultivated an acquaintanceship with general
literature. His apprenticeship in the meantime to

64

SIMON FRASER.

the wine and spirit merchant continued until 1817,
when, on its termination, he abandoned the trade
ahogether, and became clerk to a respectable iron-
monger in Kirkcaldy. In 1819 he commenced the
business of ironmonger in Kirkcaldy on his own ac-
count, in partnership with a Mr. James Robertson;
and in March, 1820, before he had completed his
twenty-second year, he married a lady whose name
was iNliss Ann Gumming. The cares of business and
domestic life did not, however, abate his love of
study, which was directed chiefly to general literature
and the acquirement of languages; and in 1825 he
commenced the study of the German tongue, to which
he afterwards added the Spanish, and of both of these
languages he acquired such mastery as to translate
from them various pieces of poetry, which, with some
original productions of his own, were published in
the pages of the Edinburgh Lilera>y Gazette, the
Edinburgh Literary Journal, and several newspapers
of the day.

It was while pursuing these honourable literary
recreations that Fraser's worldly concerns were be-
coming unprosperous. The first serious shock was
from a robbery, which no prudence could have pre-
vented. About six years after he had opened his
shop it was broken into during the night, and jewel-
lery to the value of jC200 was carried away, while no
trace could be obtained either of the property or the
thieves. In 1833, having dissolved partnership and
commenced business on his sole responsibility, he, in
1836, was so deeply involved in pecuniary difficulties
through the sudden death of a friend, that his health
succumbed, and, notwithstanding his stout-hearted
attempts to rally, the state of his affairs was so hope-
less that he was obliged in the following year to
compound with his creditors. Such is too often the
fate of a mind divided between the study and the
shop: the union is so uncongenial, that one or the
other occupation must go to the wall, and in such a
collision the desk, from its superior attractiveness, is
usually the conqueror of the counter. But Fraser's
character for honour and industry was so well estab-
lished, that the most respectable traffickers of the
town offered to become his securities for the com-
position.

Fraser having nothing left him but his talents and
reputation, soon found them an available capital, for
they obtained for him the editorship of the Ei/e
Herald, to which he was appointed in 1838. On
leaving Kirkcaldy a large party of its townsmen
showed their esteem for his worth by entertaining
him at a public dinner, and presenting him with a
copy of the seventh (at that time the latest) edition
of the Encyclopirdia Britaitniea. But it was only
for a very short time that he was able to discharge
his editorship of the Ei/e Herald, for his constitution
was already broken, so that he was obliged to employ
a literary friend as his substitute. His last acts were
in accordance with the tenor of his literary life: while
confined to bed, and during the intervals of acute
pain, he revised and arranged his poems for the press,
and a short time before he died he dictated to an
amanuensis his translations from certain Danish and
Norwegian writers. I lis death occurred on the 22d
of May, 1839. Such was his brief history — a history
of hundreds of his countrymen in lowly life, who,
with equal talents and worth, have passed away into
oblivion because there was no one to preserve their
memory. The Poetical Remai}is of Robert Fraser,
with a memoir of their author, were published soon
after his death by David Vedder.

FRASER, Simon, twelfth Lord Lovat, a per-
son too remarkable in history to be overlooked in

this work, though his want of public or private
virtue might otherwise have dictated his exclusion,
was the second son of Thomas Fraser of Beaufort,
by Sybilla Macleod, daughter of the laird of Mac-
leod, and was born at Beaufort, near Inverness,
in the year 1667. Of his early years we have no
very distinct account. He has himself asserted
that, at the age of thirteen, he was imprisoned for
his exertions in the royal cause, though we do not
well see how this could happen. That his elder
brother, however, was in the insurrection of the
Viscount Dundee, and himself, after the death of
Dundee, in that under General Buchan, is certain.
After all the pains his lordship has been at to set
forth his extreme zeal for the Stuarts, nothing can
be more evident than that, from his earhest days, the
sole puq^ose of his life was to promote his own power
by all feasible means, this end being the only object
of his solicitude. Agreeably to this view of his
character we find him, in the year 1694, while yet
a student at the university of Aberdeen, accepting
of a commission in the regiment of Lord Murray,
afterwards Earl of Tullibardine. This commission
had been procured for him by his cousin Hugh Lord
Lovat, who was brother-in-law to Lord Murray,
with the express view of bringing him "forward
most advantageously in the world ;" and though he
professed to have scruples in going against the in-
terest of King James, these were all laid asleep by
an assurance on the part of Lord Murray, that the
regiment, though ostensibly raised, and in the mean-
time to take the oaths to, and receive the pay of King
William, was really intended for King James, who
would not fail to be in the country to lay claim to
and revive his rights in the course of the succeeding
year. No sooner had young Beaufort received this
assurance than he led into the regiment a complete
company, almost entirely made up of the young
gentlemen of his clan. In the course of the succeed-
ing year Lord Murray was, by the favour of King
William, appointed secretary of state for Scotland,
and, in place of doing anything for King James, in-
forced upon every officer in his regiment the oath of
abjuration.

Being a young man, at liberty to follow out his
education, and in the regular receipt of his pay,
Beaufort, it might have been supposed, would have
found his situation comfortable, and been in some
measure content ; but his spirit seems to have been
naturally restless, and anything like an under part
in the drama of life did not square with his disposi-
tion. In the course of the year 1696, a company
of Lord Murray's regiment being stationed at the
castle of Edinburgh, where the earl-marischal. Lord
Drummond, and other of the Jacobite lords were
imprisoned, a visit from the Pretender being at the
time expected, Simon, the subject of this narrative,
entered into an engagement with the rebel lords to
seize upon the castle, and to hold it under the earl-
marischal for the French and King James. In this
project, which appears not to have been executed
only because the P'rench were unable to make the
promised demonstration, Beaufort was to have been
assisted by another captain of the same regiment,
who seems to have been equally faithless and equally
servile with himself.

B>ut while he was thus careful to watch the tides,
and to take advantage of every wind that might ruffle
the ocean of politics, his eye was steadily fixed upon
the estate of Lovat, which, as his cousin Hugh Lord
Lovat had but one child, a daughter, he had already
marked out as his own. For this end he seems to
have embraced every opportunity of ingratiating
himself with his cousin, who appears to have been a

SIMON FRASER.

man of a facile and vacillating disposition, and to
have been considerably under the influence of Lord
Murray, his brother-in-law. Of this influence Simon
of Beaufort was perfectly aware, and watched with
the utmost carefulness an opportunity to destroy it.
This opportunity Lord Murray himself afforded him
in the affair of the colonelcy of the regiment, which,
upon his appointment to the office of secretary, it
was e.xpected he would have given up to his brother-
in-law Lord Lovat. Nor is it at all unlikely that
such was originally his lordship's intention ; for in
the year 1696 he sent for him to London, apparently
with the intention of doing so after having presented
him to the king. Lovat unfortunately carried along
with him his cousin Simon, whose character must
by this time have been pretty well known to King
William, and whose companionship, of course, could
be no great recommendation to the royal favour.
Lovat was, however, presented to the royal presence,
most graciously received, and gratified with a pro-
mise of being provided for. As this was all that
Lovat expected, he took leave of his majesty, along
with Lord Murray, leaving no room for William to
suppose, for the present at least, that he either
wished or had any occasion for a further interview.
This his cousin Simon highly resented, telling him
that it was a contrivance of Lord Murray's to deprive
him of an opportunity of soliciting a regiment for him-
self, and he prevailed with him instantly to demand
of Lord Murray the reason for which he had brought
them at this time to London, at such an enormous
expense. Lord Murray frankly told him that it was
his design to have resigned to him the command of
his regiment, but that the king had positively en-
joined him to keep it till such time as the nmiours
of an invasion should subside, when he should cer-
tainly surrender it into his hands.

Had Lovat been left to himself this answer would
most probably have been altogether satisfactory; but
it did not satisfy Simon nor his friends Lord Tarbat
and Alexander Mackenzie, son to the Earl of Sea-
forth, both of whom were at that time in London,
and were of service to Beaufort in persuading Lord
Lovat that Lord Murray had been all along his
mortal enemy. By the advice of all three Lovat sent
back to Lord Murray two commissions, that of cap-
tain and lieutenant-colonel, which he held under
him, expressing at the same time in strong language
his resentment of his treachery, and his fixed resolu-
tion never more to see him nor any individual of his
family, excepting his own wife. At the same time
that the poor old man was thus eager in casting off
his old friends, he was equally warm in his attach-
ment to the new. "Impressed with the tender
affection of the laird of Beaufort, and the resolution
he manifested never to leave him, he declared that
he regarded him as his own son;" and as he had
executed at his marriage some papers which might
perhaps be prejudicial to the claims of this said
adopted son, he obliged him to send for an attorney,
and made a universal bequest to him of all his
estates, in case he died without male issue. This
affectionate conduct on the part of Lord Lovat
deeply, according to his own account of the matter,
affected our hero, who pretended "that he would
for ever consider him as his father." In consequence
of so much anxious business, so much chagrin and
disappointment, with a pretty reasonable attendance
on taverns. Lord Lovat fell sick; but after conva-
lescing a little, was brought on his way home as far
as Edinburgh by his affectionate Simon, where he
left him, proceeding by the way of Dunkeld to meet
with his wife. He had not been many days at
Dunkeld when he again fell sick, and retired to an

VOL. II.

inn at Perth, where he was again waited on by Simon
of Beaufort, and, in a state of distraction, died in his
arms the morning after his arrival.

Though, as we have seen, the subject of this
memoir had got a deed executed by a London attorney
under the direction of his cousin, the late Lord Lovat,
constituting him heir to the estate, it was judged by
him the more prudent method to put forward his
father as the nearest male heir to take possession of
the estate, with the honours, contenting himself with
the title of Master of Lovat. No sooner, however,
had he assumed this title than he was questioned on
the subject by his colonel, now Lord Tullibardine,
who made him the offer of a regiment with other
preferments, which should be to him an ample pro-
vision for life, provided he would execute a formal
sun-ender of his claim to that dignity. This produced
a violent altercation between them, which ended in
the master of Lovat throwing up his commission,
which he bade his lordship, if he pleased, bestow
upon his own footman. Through the friendship of
Sir Thomas Livingston, however, he received another
company in the regiment of Macgill, and his father
having taken possession of the estate and the honours
of Lovat without much apparent opposition, he must
have been, in some degree, satisfied with his good
fortune. In order, however, to secure it, and to
render his claims in every respect unexceptionable,
he made love to the heiress of his cousin, the late
Lord Lovat, and had succeeded in persuading her
to marry him without the knowledge of her friends,
when one of his agents betrayed trust, and she was
carried out of his way by the I^Iarquis of Athol after
the day of the marriage had actually been appointed.

The Marquis of Athol, late Lord Tullibardine,
probably aware that he had an adversary of no
common activity to deal with, lost no time in con-
cluding a match for the heiress with Lord Salton or
Eraser, whom he also took measures for having de,
clared head of the clan Eraser. The first part of his
plan was not difficult to have been executed; but the
latter part, for which the first was alone contemplated,
was not of so easy a character, being opposed to the
spirit of Highland clanship. A considerable time,
however, was spent in attempting to bring it to bear.
A few Erasers only could be tempted to engage in it;
whose treachery no sooner came to the ears of the
lord and the master of Lovat, than orders were
issued to apprehend and punish them according to
their deserts; and it was only by a timely and well-
concerted flight that they escaped being hanged. A
letter was at the same time sent to Lord Salton,
signed by the principal men of the clan, begging
him not to attempt forcing himself upon them, and
thus destroying their tranquillity and endangering
his own life. Salton returned a soft answer; but,
confident in the power of the Marquis of Athol, and
at any rate, in love with the consequence attached
to the fair estate of Lovat, whether he was in love
with the heiress or not, persevered in following out
his plan, and with a considerable train of retainers
came to Beaufort, at that time the residence of the
dowager of Lovat, whose son-in-law he intended to
be. Thomas Lord Lovat happened to be at this
time on the Stratherrick estate — a district which
stretches along the south bank of Loch Ness, and was
requested by his son Simon to cross the lake by the
nearest way to Lovat, which is only three miles from
Beaufort, in order to meet with Lord Salton, while
he himself hastened to the same place by the way of
Inverness. At Inverness the master learned that
Lord Salton, persevering in his original design, had
fully matured his plans at the house of the dowager
Lady Lovat, whence he intended next day to return

40

66

SIMON FRASER.

into his own countn', calling at Athol and manning;
the heiress of Lovat by the way, without waiting to
see either the lord or the master of Lovat. Irritated
as well as alarmed by this intelligence, he wrote by
a special messenger to Lord Salton, calling upon
him to adhere to his word " passed both to his father
and himself, and to meet him next day at two o'clock
in the afternoon, three miles from Beaufort, either
like a friend, or with sword and pistols, as he pleased. "
This letter Lord Salton received at six o'clock in the
evening, and returned for answer that he would meet
the master of Lovat at the time and place appointed
as his good friend and humble servant. In the
meantime it was concluded by him and his followers
to break up from their present quarters, and to pass
the bridge of Inverness before the master of Lovat
could have any suspicion of their being in motion,
and thus escape a meeting with him for the present.
The master, however, was too good a calculator of
probabilities in this sort of intercourse to be thus
taken in, especially as his messenger to Lord Salton,
from what he had observed at Beaufort, had strong
suspicions of what was intended. He was accord-
ingly at the road very early in the morning, attended
by six gentlemen and two servants, all well mounted
and armed, and meeting Lord Salton, Lord Mungo
Murray, and their followers, to the number of forty,
issuing from a defile in the wood of Bunchrive, about
five miles from Inverness, disarmed and dismounted
them; first Lord Mungo Murray, then Lord Salton,
and the rest singly as they came forward, without
stroke of sword or the firing of a single musket.
Though the party of the master of Lovat was so
inconsiderable at the outset, Lord Salton and his
party soon found themselves surrounded by some
hundreds of enraged enemies, by whom, under the
direction of the master, they were carried prisoners
to the castle of Fanellan, where they were closely
shut up under a certification that they should be all
hanged for their attempt to intrude themselves into
the inheritance, and to deprive the owner of his law-
ful and hereditary rights. Nor had they any assured
ground to consider this as a mere bravado: the
history of clan wars could easily furnish them with
numerous examples of such barbarous atrocity where
there was not greater provocation.

Having thus completely marred the marriage of
Lord Salton, the master of Lovat immediately set
about the celebration of his own. The heiress of
Lovat was safe in the hands of her friends at Athol;
but the dow.ager, her mother, was in the house of
Beaufort, every avenue to which he beset with his
followers, so that it was out of her power to inform
her friends of anything that was going on; then, en-
tering the house with a parson, whether Catholic or
Episcopal is unknown, he matle the lady go through
the form of marriage with himself, had her forcibly
undressed and put to bed, whither he as forcibly
followed her before witnesses, thus constituting it,
as he supposed, a lawful marriage. This is one of
the most atrocious of the many revolting actions in
the life of this prolligate nobleman, though one to
which he has given a fiat denial in the memoir which
he has written of himself. The truth is, it was as
foolish as it was wicked; and, after the purpose for
■which it was committed, viz. to remove the enmity
of the Athol family, had utterly failed, he himself
must have been heartily ashamed of it. There is
indeed a total falsehood in one reason that he insists
upon as proving its improbability. She was old
enough, he says, to have been his mother. Now she
was only four years older than himself, having died at
Perth in the year 1 743, in the eightieth year of her age.
She had been either so frightened by him, or so

cajoled, as to offer, if we may believe the Duke of
Argyle, writing to the Rev. Air. Carstairs, to give
her oath before the court of justiciary that all that
had passed between her and Lovat was voluntar}',
and as much her inclination as his; and she lived to
hear him deny his being at all concerned with her,
and to see him twice afterwards married.

But to return from this short digression. Having,
as he supposed, put himself in a fair way for being
acknowledged by the house of Athol, the master of
Lovat abandoned the idea of hanging so many of the
members and allies belonging to it as he had in
custody in his castle of Fanellan, contenting himself
with extorting a bond from Lord Salton for ;[^8ooo,
with four low-country barons as his sureties, if he
ever again interfered with the affairs of the estate of
Lovat, or if ever he or the Marquis of Athol pro-
secuted any one individual for anything that had been
transacted in this whole affair. This was only a little
more of the same folly which had guided him through
the whole business, and tended but to excite the
wonder of his friends and the hatred and contempt
of his enemies, the latter of whom, on a representa-
tion to the pri\7-council, had him intercommuned,
and letters of fire and sword issued out against him
and all his clan. This, though perfectly in the
natural order of human affairs, was altogether im-
expected by the master of Lovat, and seems to have
reduced him to great extremity. Besides the family
of Athol, which was much more powerful than his
own, troops were ready to pour in upon him from all
quarters, and even those upon whom he depended
for counsel and assistance seem at the time to have
declared against him. To the laird of Culloden
we find him writing from Beaufort in the month of
October, 1697. " Thir Lds. att Inverness, w*. ye
rest of my implacable enemies, does so confound my
wife, that she is uneasy till she see them. I am
afraid they are so mad with this disappointment,
that they will propose something to her that's dan-
gerous, her brother having such power with her; so
that really till things be perfectly accommodate, I do
not desire they should see her, and I know not how
to manage her. So I hope you will send all the
advice you can to your obliged, &c. &c. I hope
you will excuse me for not going your length, since
I have such a hard task at home." The advice given
him by Culloden has not been preserved; but that it
was not to his mind we learn from a letter written
by that gentleman from Inverlochy about ten or twelve
days after. "I am much concerned," says he, "that
your neighbour Beaufort hath played not the fool,
but the madman. If, by your persuasion, he cannot
be induced to deliver up the so much abused lady
upon assurance of pardon, in all probability he will
ruin both himself and his friends. 'Tis not long
since he was here and promised me other things;
but since he has run a quite contrary course, and
stands neither to his own nor the proposals of any
other, I have sent down 200 men," t\;c. &c. This
view of the matter is still further confirmed by an-
other letter from Lovat to Culloden, a few days
after the above, when he seems to have felt that he
was pretty much in the power of his enemies. "I
pray you receive the inclosed account of my business,
and see if your own conscience in the sight of God
do not convince you that it is literally true. I had
sent to you upon Saturday last, but you were not at
home; however, I sent it that day to the laird of
Calder, who, I hope, will not sit down upon me,
but transmit it to my best friends; and I beseech you,
sir, for God's sake, that you do the like. I know
the chancellor is a just man, notwithstanding his
friendship for TuUibardine. I forgive you for be-

SIMON FRASER.

C7

traying of me; but neither you nor I, nor, I hope,
God himself, will not forgive them that deceived
you, and caused you do it. I am very hopeful in
my dear wife's constancy if they do not put her to
death. Now I add no more, but leaves myself to
your discretion," &c. At the same time his father.
Lord Lovat, wrote to the Duke of Argyle an ex-
planatory letter upon the subject, signed by himself
and all the principal Frasers. The great benefit of
the marriage to the estate of Lovat is chiefly insisted
on in this letter, and represented as the sole cause of
the enmity of the Athol family, who, it states, wished
to appropriate that fair domain to themselves.
Argyle, on the receipt of this letter, wrote to Mr.
Carstairs, who was King William's principal adviser
in all that related to Scotland, and after a consider-
able length of time was gratified by receiving the
pardon he had solicited for all the treasons with
which his client had been charged, leaving the stoiy
of the rape for a subject of future investigation. For
this, also, had there been a little patience and prud-
ence exercised, there cannot be a doubt but he would
have obtained a full remission.

To be out of the way of this storm at its commence-
ment. Lord Lovat had taken shelter in the island of
Skye, with his brother-in-law the laird of Macleod,
where he died in the beginning of 1698. Simon,
who had defended himself in the best manner he
could, then assumed the title of Lord Lovat, but, to
escape the rage and superior strength of his enemies,
was also under the necessity of taking refuge in the
isles, where he remained till the following year,
when the Duke of Argyle, with the promise of a
pardon, brought him to London. Delays took place,
however, in procuring his remission to pass the Scot-
tish seals, till the king set out for the United Pro-
vinces, and Lovat took an excursion into France
for the purpose of lodging at the court of St. Ger-
mains a complaint against the Marquis of Athol,
and soliciting James' protection against the malignity
of his powerful family. Having obtained his request,
and been enjoined by the exiled monarch to ^vait on
and make his peace with King William, Lovat pro-
ceeded by the way of London to the court of that
sovereign at Loo, being favoured with a letter from
the Duke of Argyle to Mr. Carstairs, through whom
he received a remission, he himself says, of all crimes
that could be imputed to him, but restricted by Sea-
field in passing the Scottish seals, as has been above
stated. With this remission, such as it was, he ven-
tured to make his appearance in public, had a cita-
tion served upon the ^L'^rquis of Athol and his family
for falsely accusing him, and for devastating his
estates; and making a progress through the north,
returned to Edinburgh with 100 gentlemen as hon-
ourable as himself to support his charges, and bear
witness to the innocence and integrity of his character;
or rather to browbeat the authorities, and extort from
fear a decision which he well knew could never be
procured from the voice of truth and justice, find-
ing, however, that he had undertaken what would
fail him in the issue, he once more set out for London,
the day before the trial should have come on, and
was nonsuited in his absence; and thus, by his im-
prudent temerity, lost the opportunity of being fairly
instated in the estate and honours of Lovat, as he
would certainly have been, through the interest of
Arg)'le and his other friends, had he allowed them
to do their own work in their own way.

The restoration of King James was now Lovat's
sheet anchor; and, lest the Murrays, whom he
suspected of being warmer friends to James than he
was himself, should also be before him here, it was
necessary for him to be peculiarly forward. Accord-

ingly, on the death of King William in the early
part of the year 1702, he procured a commission
from several of the principal Scottish Jacobites to
the court of St. Germains, declaring their being ready
to take up arms and hazard their lives and fortunes
for the restoration of their lawful prince; as usual,
paying all manner of respect to the court of Versailles,
and requesting its assistance. With this he pro-
ceeded by the way of England and Holland, and
reached the court of St. Germains about the begin-
ning of September, 1702, just in time to be par-
ticularly useful in inflaming the contentions that
distracted the councils of James VHL, for the direc-
tion of whose affairs there was a most violent struggle
among his few followers. He had for his fellow-
traveller his cousin-german Sir John Maclean, well
known in the history of the intrigues of that time,
who, leaving him at Paris, was his precursor to the
court of St. Germains, whence in two days he
returned to conduct him into the presence of the
Duke of Perth, from whom he received private in-
structions how to conduct himself towards the queen.
The principal of these was to request of the queen that
she should not make known any part of what he
proposed to Lord Middleton, who, at the time, was
the rival of Lord Perth for the supreme direction
of their affairs, which might be said to lie chiefly in
sending out spies, fabricating reports, and soliciting
pensions. Nothing could be more agreeable to
Lovat, the very elements of whose being seemed to
be mystery, and with whom to intrigue was as natural
as to breathe. To work he went, exacted the
queen's promise to keep everything secret from
Middleton; and by the aid of the Marquis de Torcy,
the Marquis Callieres, and Cardinal Gualterio, the
pope's nuncio, fancied himself sole administrator of
the affairs of Scotland. The queen herself was so
much pleased with the opening scene, that she glad-
dened the heart of Lovat by telling him she had
sent her jewels to Paris to be sold in order to raise
the 20,000 crowns he had told her were necessary
for bringing forward his Highlanders in a properly
effective manner. But she was not long true to her
promise of secrecy; and Middleton at once depicted
Lovat as "the greatest traitor in the three kingdoms:"
nor did he treat his favourite Highlanders with any
more respect, representing them as mere banditti,
excellent at plundering the Lowlanders and carrying
off their cattle, but incapable of being formed into
a regular corps that would look a well-appointed
enemy in the face. From this day forward Lovat
seems to have fallen in the opinion of Mary d'Este,
who was a woman of rather superior talents, though
he seems to have gone on well with De Torcy, Cal-
lieres, and Gualterio, who found in him, as they
supposed, a very fit tool for their purpose of raising in
Scotland a civil war, without much caring whether
it really promoted the interests of James or not.
After much intriguing with Perth and Middleton,
as well as with the French ministry, Lovat obtained
a commission to visit Scotland in 1703, but rather
as an emissary of the French government than an
accredited agent for James. The object of the
French government was to have an immediate di-
version created in the Highlands, and they furnished
his lordship with 6000 francs (;({;250) to defray the
expenses of his journey, and a commission to be a
major-general, with power to raise troops and ap-
point officers, as he should find needful. At the
same time, to lie the witness of his behavour, they
joined with him John Murray of Abercairney, a
rrentleman who ought to have been ashamed of such
a companion as Lovat, and had the address to send
James Murray, brother to Murray of Stanhope, so

^8

SIMON FRASER.

as to be in Scotland at least a month before him,
where he told it openly that Lovat was on his way
as agent for the pope and the King of France, to
raise a civil war in Scotland, contrary to the positive
orders of the king and his mother the queen. Owing
to this and the well-known character of Lovat, many
of the Jacobites were shy of communicating with
him, though he certainly found a few willing to
depend upon his promises, and to enter into his pro-
jects. His principal object, however, most probably
was to see if there were yet any openings whereby
he might reconcile himself with the government,
and be allowed to take possession of the estate of
Lovat, the first and the last grand object of his
ambition. He accordingly threw himself in the way
of Queensberr}', to whom he betrayed all — perhaps
more than he knew respecting his old friend Lord
Murray, now, by the death of his brother and the
queen's favour, Duke of Athol, and his associate in
politics, the Duke of Hamilton ; but his best friend
the Duke of Argyle dying at this time, he appears
to have obtained nothing more than a free passport,
and perhaps some promises in case of further dis-
coveries; and with this he passed again into France.
Having, while in London, fallen in with, or rather
been introduced to, a well-known Jacobite, William
Keith, and the well-known framer of plots, Ferguson,
who was shortly after taken up, the whole of his
transaction took air before he had time to reach
Paris. The companion of his travels, too. Sir John
Maclean, coming to England about the same time,
surrendered himself prisoner, and, in consideration
of obtaining his liberty and a small pension, laid
open the whole of Lovat's proceedings from first
to last, so that he was discovered to both courts at
the same time. The reader, however, if he supposes
that Lovat felt any pain at these discoveries, is in
a great mistake. They were unquestionably the
very events he wished, and from which he expected
to rise in worldly estimation and in wealth, which
is too often the chief pillar upon which that esti-
mation is founded. There was at this period,
among all parties, a thirst for emolument which was
perfectly ravenous, and scrupled at no means by
which it might attain its gratification. Of this
fatal propensity the present affair is a remarkable
instance. Lovat had received from King James
the present of his picture, which, with a com-
mission for a regiment of infantry, he had in-
closed in a box made for the purpose. This, on
leaving Scotland, he committed to his friend Camp-
bell of Glendaruel, to keep for him, and his back
was scarcely turned when Glendaruel went to the
Duke of Athol, and offered him the box, with its
contents, provided he would give him a company
in a regiment that was held by Campbell of Finab,
and was worth about ;,^I70 a year, which he at
once obtained, and the box with its contents was
in a short time lodged in the hands of Queen
Anne. Lovat, in his memoirs, relates the transac-
tion, and exclaims against its treachery, though it
was wholly his own contrivance; the box being given
for the express purpose of procuring a pension for
his friend, and giving Anne and her ministers ocular
demonstration of his own importance.

On his arrival in France Lord Lovat found the
Earl of Middleton and the exiled queen as much
opposed to him and his projects as ever, but he con-
tinued his assiduities with the French courtiers, who
informed him that he miglit expect very soon to be
the first of the Scottish nobility, since he would be
called on to head the insurrection not only as a
general officer to King James, but as a general officer
in the army of France; everything necessary for the

success of the expedition — land forces, a squadron of
ships, arms, and ammunition — being already pre-
pared, and nothing remaining to be done but the form
of carrying it through the privy-council, which a day
or two would accomplish. In a day or two it was
proposed in the council, when the king himself de-
clared that, though he had the highest opinion of
the excellence of the proposed plan, the Queen of
England had positively refused to sign commissions
for her subjects to engage in it, and therefore, for
the present, it was necessarj' to lay it aside. This
was a sad blow to the hopes of Lovat; and being
always fond of letter-writing, he wrote a letter to
the queen, in which he told her that she had at one
blow overturned a project which he had sacrificed
his property and exposed his life to bring to perfec-
tion ; and he affirmed that, so long as her majesty
followed implicitly the advice of the people who
were at the head of the English parliament, Jesus
Christ would come in the clouds before her son
would be restored; and he concluded by saying,
that, for his own part, he would never draw a sword
for the royal cause so long as the regency was in her
majesty's hands.

In consequence of this letter Lord Lovat was, at
the queen's instance, imprisoned thirty-two days in a
dark dungeon, three years in the castle of Angouleme,
and seven years in the city of Saumur. In the mean-
time the project was not abandoned. Colonel Hooke
succeeded to the part that Lovat had played or
attempted to play. A large armament, under Ad-
miral Forbin, was fitted out in the year 1708, and
in which James himself embarked and had a sight
of the Scottish shore, when, meeting with Admiral
Byng, and afterwards encountering a violent storm,
the whole was driven back upon the French coast
with great loss. In this expedition the friends of
Lovat had requested James to employ him, and they
had received the most determined refusal, which
finally, with the failure of the expedition, cut off all
his hopes from that quarter. What added greatly to
the bitterness of his reflections, the heiress of Lovat
was now married to Mr. Alexander Mackenzie (son
of Lord Prestonhall), who had assumed the title of
Fraserdale, with the estate of Lovat settled on him
for life, with remainder to the heirs of the marriage,
who were to bear the name of Eraser, and of which
there were already more than one. Thus circum-
stanced, he confessed that he "would not merely
have enlisted himself in the party of the house of
Hanover, which was called to the crown of Scotland,
England, and Ireland by all the states of the king-
dom, but with any foreign prince in the universe
who would have assisted him in the attainment of
his just and laudable design of re-establishing his
family, and proclaiming to all Scotland the barbarous
cruelty of the court of St. Germains." In this state
of mind he formed the resolution of escaping from
Saumur, in company with some English prisoners,
and throwing himself at the feet of the Dukes of
Marlborough and Arg)-le, entreating them to inter-
pose in his favour with Queen Anne. This design
circumstances prevented him from executing, but he
transmitted on various occasions letters to the Duke
of Argyle and others of his friends upon whom he
supposed he could depend, stating the determination
he had come to, and requesting their good offices to
effect his reconciliation with the queen. Some of
these letters were returned to the court of St. Ger-
mains, shown to the court of France, and nearly oc-
casioned his being shut up in the Bastile for life.
He was very soon, however, engaged in forming
another plan for the invasion of Scotland, in which
he expected to be employed; but the terrible cam'

SIMON FRASER.

69

paigns of 17 10 and 171 1 put it out of the power of
the court of France to attend to anything beyond
domestic concerns; and the Marquis de la Fuziliere,
the principal friend he possessed at the French court,
dying at the same time, rendered all his prospects in
that country hopeless. The conclusion of peace, and
the appointment of the Duke of Hamilton to represent
Queen Anne at the court of Versailles, filled him
with still more gloomy apprehensions, from which
he was not delivered till he read in the public papers
the fatal duel that had been fought between that
nobleman and Lord Mohun, when he again took
courage, and applied once more to the French court
to be set at liberty. The person he employed, how-
ever, had no success; his character seemed to be los-
ing rather than gaining at that court, and he was ad-
vised to make his escape. Others, certain that the
king would be immediately restored by Anne and her
ministers, and was even now on the point of setting
out for Scotland to be at hand when wanted, assured
him that to depart for Scotland without his permis-
sion was only to rush upon inevitable destruction.
This seems to have filled him with great apprehen-
sion, and he laboured to be reconciled to the Pre-
tender with the greatest but the most fruitless industry,
till he was driven to utter despair by the death of
Queen Anne, and tidings that all the Jacobite clans
in the north were arming in behalf of James, who
had again and again declared that, without the con-
sent of the Duke of Athol, he would never hear of
his name. In this dilemma one of the Frasers arrived
to request his presence with the clan, and advising
him to join the party of Argj'le, who was their old
friend, and the only one that was likely to be able to
afford them protection. He had pre%aously to this
written to Argj-le, but does not seem to have had
any reply. He now despatched a trusty ser\-ant to
consult with him and Ilay, Culloden, Grant, Kil-
ravock, and other of his old friends, who stated, that
if he could make his way safely to London, the
business was done. This at once determined him to
set out for England, taking the best precautions he
could to avoid being arrested. On the 1st of No-
vember, 1 7 14, after an imprisonment of ten years,
he arrived at Dover, where, on account of extreme
fatigue, he rested for one night. He then by a jour-
ney of two days arrived safely in London.

Here his first care was to despatch his trusty friends
James and Alexander Eraser for the Earl of Ilay
and Brigadier-general Grant. The brigadier lost not
a moment in waiting on him, expressed great joy to
see him safe and well, and assured him of every good
office in his power. Ilay, on the contrary, expressed
considerable regret at his having quitted the provision
which, amid all the severe treatment he met with,
had been made for him in France, while in England
he had not even the security of his life; but he engaged
to bring his case before the king and the prince that
very night, and to let him know the result next day.
The circumstances in which Lovat had thus placed
himself were by no means pleasant. In Scotland
there was a sentence of death in full force against
him, and a price set upon his head, while he had
nothing to rely upon but a precarious promise from
a few friends, who, after all, might neither have the
will nor the power to protect him. He was, how-
ever, too deeply embarked to draw back, and he de-
termined, regardless of consequences, to throw him-
self upon the protection of the Duke of Arg}le and
the Earl of Ilay, to take no step in his affairs but by
their direction, and to live and die in their service.
How happy had it been for his lordship had he never
lost sight of this prudent determination ! Next day
Ilay informed him that he had spoken of his case

both to the king and the prince, who were well dis-
posed towards him, but, without some security for
his future loyalty, were not willing to grant him a
free pardon. It would therefore be necessary for
him to present an address to the king, signed by all
his friends who were well affected towards the
present government, and that, in this address, they
should enter into an engagement for his loyalty in
any sum the king pleased. Such an address as would
be proper Ilay promised to draw up, which he ac-
cordingly did two days after; and Lovat, by his trusty
friend James Eraser, immediately despatched it to
the north, with the following letter to his old friend
John Forbes of Culloden, who was at the time can-
vassing for the county of Inverness.

"Much honoured and dear Sir, — The real friend-
ship that I know you have for my person and family
makes me take the freedom to assure you of my kind
service, and to entreat of you to jo!n with my other
friends betwixt Spey and Ness to sign the address
the court requires in order to give me my remission.
Your cousin James, who has generously exposed him-
self to bring me out of chains, will inform you of all
the steps and circumstances of my affairs since he
saw me. I wish, dear sir, you were here; I am con-
fident you would speak to the Duke of Arg)-le and to
the Earl of Ilay to let "them know their own interest
and their reiterated promises to do for me. Perhaps
they may have sooner than they expect a most serious
occasion for my service. But it's needless now to
preach that doctrine to them, they think themselves
in ane infallible security. I wish they may not be
mistaken. However, I think it's the interest of all
those who love this government betwixt Spey and
Ness to see me at the head of my clan, ready to join
them, so that I believe none of them will refuse to
sign ane address to make me a Scotchman. I am
persuaded, dear sir, that you will be of good example
to them on that head. But secrecy, above all, must
be kept, without which all may go wrong. I hope
you will be stirring for the parliament, for I will not
be reconciled to you if you let Prestonhall outvote
you. Brigadier Grant, to whom I am infinitely
obliged, has written to Foyers to give you his vote,
and he is an ingrate villain if he refuses him. If I
was at home, the little pitiful barons of the Aird
durst not refuse you. But I am hopeful that the
news of my going to Britain will hinder Prestonhall
to go north, for I may meet him when he least thinks
of me. I am very impatient to see you, and to as-
sure you most sincerely how much I am, with love
and respect, right honourable," &c.

The above is a fair specimen of Lovat's manner
and address in complimenting those whom he had
an interest in standing well with. He had indeed
use for all his activity on this occasion. The secrecy
which he recommends was also very necessary, for
Fraserdale no sooner heard of his intention of coming
down to Scotland, which was only a few days after
this, than he applied to the lord-justice clerk for an
extract of the process and sentence against him, no
doubt with the intention of putting it in execution
before his friends should be able to interpose any
shield of legal authority in his defence. All his
friends, however, especially Culloden, were particu-
larly active. The address and bond of security to
the king was speedily signed by all the Whig gentle-
men of consequence in the north, and remitted to
Lord Ilay, who carried it to London in the month
of March, 1 715. Culloden, in the meantime, had,
through his brother Duncan Forbes, afterwards lord-
president, transmitted, to be presented by Lord Ilay,
a most loyal address to the king, signed by the
Fraseis, with a tender of their clan to Arg\le as their

SIMON FRASER.

chief. This was intended to counterbalance the ad-
dress of the Jacobites that had been transmitted to
the Earl of Marr, but which he durst not present,
and to strengthen the interest of Argyle, which the
other was calculated to weaken. Through the oppo-
sition of the Duke of Montrose, however, who had
been gained over by Prestonhall and the Duke of
Athol, Lovat's business was protracted till the month
of July, 1 715, when the news of the preparations of
the Pretender for an invasion of Great Britain, trans-
mitted by the Earl of Stair, then ambassador at Paris,
and the general ferment that prevailed through the
country had aroused the fears of tlie government.
Hay availed himself of these circumstances for turning
the attention of the English minister more particu-
larly to that too long delayed affair. The addresses
which had been obtained in his favour were then
given in to his majesty, whose gracious pardon he
obtained; and in October, making the best of his
way for the north, he was arrested by a loyal party
at Dumfries as a Jacobite. Referring for his char-
acter to the Marquis of Annandale, who happened
to be in the neighbourhood, and to whom he was
known, he was immediately set at liberty. Here he
volunteered his services to lead a party of the towns-
men in attacking the rebels in their quarters at Loch-
maben, but the attack, after it had been resolved on,
was abandoned through the prudent advice of the
Marquis of Annandale, who was afraid of the con-
sequences both to themselves and the good cause in
which they were engaged.

Leaving Dumfries, his lordship found his way into
the north, where tlie insurgents were nearly trium-
phant, being in possession of the whole country save
the shires of Sutherland, Ross, and Caithness, with
perhaps a detached castle or two in some of the
neighbouring counties. Among these was the castle
of Culloden. The Grants and the Munroes had also
been able in some measure to preserve their own ter-
ritories, but the rebels were everywhere around them
in great force. The first of Lovat's proceedings was
to hold a counsel with his general, as he long after
called him, Duncan Forbes, and his brother the
laird of Culloden, who was perhaps the most trust-
worthy man in the north, after which he went home,
where he was waited upon by a considerable number
of Erasers, with whom he marched for Stratherrick,
one of his estates, and by the way compelled the
clan Chattan to lay down their arms and disperse to
their homes. Macdonald of Keppoch, too, who had
300 men assembled on the braes of Abertarf, dis-
missed them the moment he was apprised of Lovat's
approach. At Stratherrick he was waited upon by
Eraser of Foyers and Eraser of Culduthill, with
their retainers; and to prevent the Macdonalds from
reaching the other side of Loch Ness, he himself
crossed over at Bonat, and with 200 picked men
marched, according to agreement, for Inverness by
Kinmayles. Colonel Grant, with a number of his
own, Elcheiz's, and Knockandow's men. Captain
Grant with 300 Grants, and all the other gentlemen
engaged in the enterprise, were at the same time ap-
proaching the nortiiern capital in order to rescue it
from the hands of the rebels. P^or this end it was
proposed that the gentlemen of Moray, in conjunction
with Lord Lovat and the Grants, should set upon it
from the south, while the Earl of Sutherland, Lord
Rae, the Munroes, and the Rosses should attack it
on the north. These latter gentlemen, however,
having some of tliem upwards of fifty miles to march,
besides ferries to cross, it was not thought advisable
to wait for them. Captain Arthur Rose, brother to
Kilravock, was therefore ordered to enter the town,
while those that were already come up proceeded to

invest it in the best manner they could. Lord Lovat,
with his detachment, was stationed on the west end
of the bridge; Captain Grant on the south side, to
enter by Castle Street; and the Moray lieutenants,
Kilravock, Letham, Brodie, Sir Archibald Campbell,
Dunphail, &c., were to attack the east part. The
a tack was led on with great spirit by Captain Arthur
Rose, who was unfortunately killed pressing on in
the front of his men; and Sir John Mackenzie, the
rebel governor, seeing himself about to be over-
powered, abandoned the place, escaping with his
men across the frith in a number of boats, which
but a few days before he had intended to destroy,
in order to cut off all communication by the ferry.
This was upon Saturday, the 12th of November,
tlie day before the battle of Sheriffmuir and the
surrender of Preston. Thus the rebels were com-
pletely broken in the north, and it was a triumph
obtained with very little loss. Much of the credit
of the achievement was given to Lovat, much more
indeed than was his due; but he was in want of
something to elevate his character, and his friends
were willing to give him all advantages. The im-
mediate consequence of the honour he acquired on
this day was the desertion of 300 Erasers, who,
under Eraserdale, were in Marr's camp at Perth ;
but now denying his authority to lead them, put
themselves under the charge of Lord Lovat at Inver-
ness, where they remained till the rebellion was
finally put down by the Earl of Argyle and General
Cadogan. But there was another consequence not
very remote and of far greater importance; it secured
him at once in the estate and all the honours of Lovat,
which it had been the great object of his whole life
to compass, but which, without some such strange
event, joined to the false step of his rival in joining the
rebel standard, was most certainly for ever beyond
his reach. Prestonhall had married the heiress of
Lovat, in whose person, by a decree of the Court of
Session, so far back as the year 1702, rested the
honours and dignity of Lovat. He had assumed in
consequence the name of Eraser and the title of
P'raserdale, and had a numerous offspring to inherit
as heirs of marriage the estate which he had so long
possessed, and had he maintained his loyalty, nothing
but a revolution, with singular folly on his own
part, could have dispossessed him of the property.
Most fortunately for Lovat, when he arrived in the
north, Eraserdale was with the Earl of Marr at
Perth, and there was nothing to prevent him from
executing his purpose of taking immediate possession
of his estates, which he did before proceeding to act
vigorously in behalf of the government, every mem-
ber of which knew that such was the reward he ex-
pected. The fortunate issue of this his first action
too called forth all the natural arrogancy and pre-
sumption of his character. We find him in the en-
suing March, only four short months after, writing
to Duncan Forbes in the following style: — "My dear
general, I send you the inclosed letter from the name
of RLacleod, which I hope you will make good use
of, for it's most certain I kept the Macleods at home,
which was considerable service done the government."
How had he kept the Macleods at home, when the
rebellion was at its height before it was so much as
known if ever he would be allowed to enter it? But
he goes on to speak of his own achievements still
more boastingly, and of the recalling of Argyle,
which, he says, has made him sick. "I hope, my
dear general, you will take a start to London to serve
his grace and do something for your poor old cor-
poral (meaning himself); and if you suffer Glengarry,
Eraserdale, or the Chisholm to be pardoned, I will
never carrj' a musket any more under your command,

SIMON FRASER.

7i

though I should be obliged to go to Afric. How-
ever, you know how obedient 1 am to my general's
orders; you forgot to give the order signed by you
and the other deputes to meddle with Fraserdale's
estate for the king's service. I entreat you send it

me, for is afraid to meddle without authority."

How his lordship wished Fraserdale to find no mercy
is obvious from what is above stated; but why should
Glengarry and the Chisholm find none for the very
same reason? Their estates lay contiguous to those
of Fraserdale; and if they could be all escheated to
the king, why might not Lovat for his own extraor-
dinary services have got all the three as well as one?
Fraserdale was escheated, and Lovat had only to
wait till the month of August, when a grant passed
his majesty's privy-seal of Scotland "for the many
brave and loyal services done and performed to his
majesty by Simon Lord Lovat, particularly for the
zeal and activity he showed in suppressing the late
unnatural rebellion in the north of Scotland, and for
his known affection to his majesty's person and
government, giving, granting, and disponing the
escheat of all goods, gear, debts, and sums of money,
jewels, gold, silver, coined or uncoined, utensils and
domecills, horse, nolt, sheep, corns, cattle, bonds,
obligations, contracts, decreets, sentences, compro-
mitts, and all other goods and gear escheatable,
which belonged to Alexander Mackenzie of Fraser-
dale, together with the said Alexander Mackenzie
his life-rent escheat of all lands, heritages, tenements,
annual rents, tacks, steadings, rooms, possessions,
as also ;^5oo of sterling money, fallen in the king's
hands by the said sentence," «S:c.

This was certainly an abundant reward, though
Lovat had been a much better man, and his services
more ample than they really were. It was nothing
more, however, than he expected, and it excited no
gratitude, nor did it yield anything like content.
Fraserdale's plate he had attempted to secure, but it
fell into the hands of General Wightman, who, it
was at the time remarked, had a happy knack of
keeping what he got. However, he engaged to re-
turn it, Lovat paying him the one half in money, the
whole being only valued at ;Ci50 sterling. In the
month of April he was, on his own request, allowed
to come to London, to look after all those great af-
fairs that were then going on; and his mode of writ-
ing about them gives a curious view of a worldly
man's morality: — "I want," he says to his friend
Duncan Forbes, "but a gift of the escheat to make
me easy. But if it does not do, you must find some
pretence or other that will give me a title to keep
possession, either by the tailie my lord provost has,
or by buying off some creditors; in short, you must
make a man of it one way or other." He was also
at this time on the eve of his marriage with Margaret
Grant, daughter of Ludovick Grant, of Grant; and
his moral feeling on this subject is equally interesting
to that which regarded the estate of Lovat : — "I spake
to the duke and my Lord Hay about my marriage,
and told them that one of my greatest motives to
the design, was to secure the joint interest of the
north. They are both fully for it, and Argyle is to
speak of it, and propose it to the king. But Hay
desired me to write to you, to know if there would
be any fear of a pursuit of adherence from the other
person (the dowager of Lovat), which is a chimerical
business, and tender fear for me in my dear Hay.
But when I told him that the lady denied before the
justice court that I had anything to do with her, and
that the pretended marriage had been declared null,
which Hay says should be done by the commissaries
only; yet when I told him that the minister and
witnesses were all dead, who had been at the pre-

tended marriage, he was satisfied they could make
nothing of it, though they would endeavour it.
However, I entreat you, write to me or Mr. Stewart
a line on this head, to satisfy my Lord Hay's scruple."
This puts an end to all doubt respecting the rape
charged upon his lordship, of which he had often
before, and did often again declare, that he was as
innocent as the child unborn. All was now, how-
ever, forgiven; the Duke of Argj-le wrote in his fa-
vour to the Grants, recommending the match, and
in the course of the next year he obtained the young
lady for his bride.

Lovat might now have been, if worldly success
could make any man so, a very happy man. He
had been, for many years, an exile and a prisoner,
proscribed at home and abroad, and alike odious to
both parties in the state, and both claimants of the
crown. He had ventured home at the hazard of his
life, had obtained the grace of the reigning prince,
the countenance of all his friends, possession of the
inheritance of his fathers, two honourable commis-
sions among his countrymen, a young and beautiful
wife, and a handsome pension ; yet he was the same
as before, querulous and discontented.

In the beginning of the year 1717 we find him re-
suming the subject of the grant, and he requests
Duncan Forbes to employ Sir Walter Pringle, and
any one else he pleases, and consult together of some
legal way for his keeping possession of his estate;
"for," says he, "I must either keep violent posses-
sion, which will return me my old misfortunes, or I
must abandon the kingdom and a young lady whom
my friends have engaged me to marrj'. So, my dear
general, I beg you may give me some prospect of
not being again forced to leave the kingdom, or to
fight against the king's forces. The one or the other
must be, if I do not find any legal pretence of pos-
sessing the estate but by this gift. " And all this was
because a Mr. Murray or a Lord Murray had made
a motion in the House of Commons for a redeem-
ing clause to be added in favour of Fraserdale's lady,
which occasioned a few hours' debate, and was im-
proved for making remarks on Lord Lovat's char-
acter and conduct, but at last came to nothing.
Perhaps he was also a little disturbed by the move-
ments of the Spanish court in favour of James, which
were still more contemptible than any party motion
that ever was made in the House of Commons.

For a number of years after this Lovat was fully
occupied with the legal campaigns which he carried
on under the direction of Duncan Forbes, for the
final settlement of the Lovat estate, during all which
time the affairs of the Pretender gave him no trouble;
nay, they seem to have been totally forgotten. After
the lapse of a number of years, however, when he
had got ever)'thing secured in his own way, we then
find him again treating with the Pretender for a
generalship and a dukedom, and all his old uneasi-
nesses returning upon him. Having no more to ex-
pect from his "dear general" the lord-president,
he ceased to correspond with him; and on the break-
ing up of the Black Watch, one of the companies of
which had belonged to him, he withdrew his affec-
tions entirely from the existing government, and
became ready once more to act for the exiled family
of Stuart.

The nation was now involved in war; and the
friends of the Pretender, stirred up by the emissaries
of the court of France, which protected him for no
other purpose than to make him a tool on such oc-
casions— began to bestir themselves. Lovat, whose
political views were very limited, never doubted but
that France had at all times the power to restore the
Pretender, if she had but the will; and now that her

72

SIMON FRASER.

promises were so magnificent, he fell at once into
the snare, and was the first to sign, in the year 1740,
that association which brought entire niin upon the
cause, antl nearly all that had connected themselves
with it. Still he acted upon the old principle : he
stipulated that he was to have a patent creating him
a duke, and a commission constituting him lieutenant
of all the Highlands, and of course elevating him
above even the great Argjle.

Though Lovat had now committed himself, and
was fairly in the way of "having all his old troubles
returned upon him," common sense, as in most cases,
did not forsake him all at once. He was employed
in making preparations for the new scenes of gran-
deur that to his heated fancy lay before him, but he
did not run the hazard of disappointment by any ridi-
culous parade, or any weak attempts prematurely
to realize them. When Prince Charles landed at
Boradale, accompanied, not, as had been agreed
upon with the association at the head of which
Lovat had unfortunately placed his name, by 13,000
men with all necessary equipments, but with seven
persons and a few domestics, his friends were per-
fectly astonished, and none of them more so than
Lovat. Accordingly, when he received Lochiel's
letter stating that Charles was come, and that he had
brought the papers stipulated upon, viz. the patent
for the dukedom and the general's commission,
Lovat returned a cold and general answer, that he
might rely upon what he had promised. Lochiel,
however, being led to take part in the enterprise,
drew in some of his neighbours, and when the
gathering had begun, who could tell where it would
end? It might be at last successful, and all who had
been backward at the outset might expect no mercy
in the end. Still Lovat was cautious. He only
sent one of his distant relations, "mad Tom of
Gortuleg," to meet Charles at Invergarry, and to
advise him to come by Stratherrick to Inverness,
and by the time he reached the latter place Sir
Alexander Macdonald and Macleod would have
time to come up; besides, he might expect to be
there joined by the Grants, the Mackenzies, and the
Mackintoshes. These were all engaged to come for-
ward as well as Lovat, who was now, from a num-
ber of circumstances, doubtful of their constancy,
and, while he preserved the character of a leader,
wished to see them all committed before he began
to play his part. All hh/i/icssc, however, was of no
avail. Charles took other advice. Sir Alexander
Macdonald, and his powerful neighbour Macleod,
stood entirely aloof; and to crown all, his "dear
general," the lord-president, to whom he owed all
that he possessed in the world, and to whose acute
powers of perception he was no stranger, became
his next-door neighbour, with the almost avowed
purpose of watching his every action. All these
circumstances reduced him to the necessity of acting
with the utmost caution, and at the same time sub-
jected him to the most tormenting anxiety. His
preparations for joining the Pretender he dared not
entirely suspend, lest some inferior neighbour might
rise to that pre-eminent place in the prince's favour,
which, in case he were successful, it was the dearest
wish of his soul to occupy, and he knew not how to
proceed, lest he might stand fairly committed, and
be compelled to abide by the consequences. He
did, however, what he could : he compelled his son
to leave his studies with a view to make him the
leader of his clan; and he employed, in an underhand
way, his dependants to bring all matters connected
with the expedition into a state of forwardness, while
he himself wrote letters to the lord-president, filled
with lamentations for his unhappy countrj', and his

more unhappy situation, as having to do with such
mad people, and such an untoward and ungrateful
son. After the brilliant affair at Gladsmuir, how-
ever, when he saw "that as sure as God was in the
heavens, the mad young man would prevail," he took
a little more courage, and sent to congratulate him
on the victory, and to say that, being an old man, he
could not come himself with 5000 men, as he had
originally intended, but that he would send his son,
which he hoped would be regarded the same as if
he had come himself. As the course of events seemed
to favour or frown upon the attempt, his lordship's
conduct 'continued to be more open, or more con-
cealed, till Lord Loudon found it to be his duty to
take him into custody. Still, as he appeared unde--
cided, and but few of his men had gone south, and
it was hoped he might still countermand them, his
confinement was only nominal. In an evil hour he
made his escape from Lord Loudon, and, when it
was utterly useless, threw the whole weight of his
influence into the rebellion. The master of Lovat
had a share in the affair of Falkirk, but was only
coming up with his reinforcements to join the army
of Charles, when he met it, totally routed, a few
miles from the fatal field of Culloden. On the
evening of that fatal day Lovat was petrified with
the first and the last sight he ever had of Charles.
This was at Gortuleg, where the unfortunate prince
arrived about sunset, a miserable fugitive, accom-
panied by his Irish counsellors, Sheridan, Sullivan,
O'Neil, and his secretary John Hay. Lovat, on be-
ing told of his approach in this forlorn condition,
poured forth against him the bitterest execrations,
as having brought utter ruin on the house of Lovat,
and on the entry of his unexpected visitant he is
said to have run about the house in a state of distrac-
tion, calling upon his domestics to chop off his aged
head. Charles, however, who possessed the art of
flattery in great perfection, soothed him by the pro-
mise of another and better day with the elector, ob-
serving, at the same time, that he had already had
two, while the elector had but one. That one, how-
ever, unluckily for him and Lovat, was better than
all the days either of them had seen, or were ever
again to see. But the joke satisfied the old man;
supper was hastily prepared, as hastily eaten, and
at ten o'clock Charles changed his dress, and bade
his entertainer an everlasting farewell.

Lovat had now abundance of leisure to reflect upon
his folly in rejecting the sound advice of his friend
the lord-president; but as he could have little hope
of being again pardoned, he studied to prolong his
liberty and life in the best manner he could, first by
proposing a mountain campaign, which was found
impracticable, and then by betaking himself to the
fastnesses of his country, with which he was well
acquainted. From one of these retreats he had the
misery of seeing his house of Castledownie laid in
ashes, and his estates everywhere plundered, the
cattle driven off, the shielings set on fire, and the
miserable inmates driven to the mountains. He had
also the misfortune to see it given over by commis-
sion from the Duke of Cumberland to James Fraser
of Castle Cullen for the behoof of the government,
which, considering what it had cost him, and the
value he set upon it, must have been worse than
many deaths. As he had been so long a conspicuous
character, and one of the most active movers of this
rebellion, the search after him was continued with
the utmost keenness and perseverance, and he was
at last found upon an island in Loch Morar, where
he was living comfortably with Macdonald of Morar,
the proprietor of the island, without any suspicion
of being found out, having carried all the boats

SIMON FRASER.

73

upon the loch into the island, and being at a con-
siderable distance from the sea. Information, how-
ever, having been obtained. Captain Ferguson, of
his majesty's ship Furnace, sailed round till directly-
opposite the island, when the men-of-war boats were
carried overland and launched into the loch. Most
of those that were upon the island fled l)y their
boats and escaped; but Lovat, being totally lame,
was unable to escape in this manner. He was,
however, carried upon his bed into the woods, and
was not found till after a search of three days.
Being in no condition to make any resistance, he
surrendered himself at once, delivered up his arms
and his strong box, was carried aboard Captain
Ferguson's ship, and brought round to Fort-William,
where he wrote a letter to the Duke of Cumberland
boasting of the extraordinary services he had per-
formed for his family, of the great kindnesses he
had then met with, and of the vast benefits he was
still capable of bestowing, should he be made a par-
ticipant of the royal mercy. Of this letter the duke
took no notice, but he treated him with much kind-
ness. A litter having been provided for him, he
was brought to Fort- Augustus on the 15th of June,
1746. On the 15th of July he was sent to Stirling
Castle, where he remained some days. P"rom
Stirling he was sent to Edinburgh, and thence by
Berwick to London, the journey being divided into
twenty stages, one only of which he was required to
travel in a day. In this easy way he reached Barnet
on the 14th of August, and on the 15th, the Friday
before the execution of the Lords Kilmarnock and
Balmerino, he arrived in London. On his way to
the Tower he passed the scaffold that had been
erected for the execution of those noblemen, which
he looked at with some emotion, exclaiming, " Ah !
is it come to this!" When brought to the Tower
he was received by General Williamson and con-
ducted to the apartment prepared for him, where,
as his trial did not come on till the beginning of
next year, he had abundance of leisure to contem-
plate the ruin he had brought upon himself and his
house by indulging a most insatiable avarice and a
ridiculous ambition. He, however, took possession
of his dreary habitation with a degree of fortitude
and an equanimity of mind worthy of a better man
and a better cause.

On the nth of December he was impeached of
high treason by the House of Commons, a committee
of which was appointed to draw up the articles and
prepare evidence. He was subsequently brought to
the bar of the House of Lords and the articles read
to him. On this occasion his lordship made a long
speech, in which he expressed the highest esteem
for his majesty and all the royal family, enumerating
at great length the many services he had performed
for them during the rebellion in 17 15, and singular
favours bestowed upon him in return by the late
king and his ministers. He then enlarged with great
eloquence upon his age and infirmities, particularly
his deafness, in consequence of which he said he had
not heard one word of the charges preferred against
him. They were of course read over to him again,
when he presented a petition praying that he might
have a copy of them, and that counsel and solicitors
might be assigned him. He also acquainted their
lordships that his estate had been taken forcible pos-
session of, in consequence of which he had nothing
either to support him or to bear the expenses of his
trial. Their lordships gave orders that he should
be allowed the income of the estate for his subsist-
ence. He also petitioned for his strong box, but
this was refused. On this day his lordship displayed
great ability and excited considerable sympathy.

On the 13th of January, 1747, his lordship was
again placed at the bar, and gave in an answer to
the articles of impeachment, every one of which he
denied. After making a very long speech, his trial
was fixed for February the 23d. He was this day
carried back to the Tower amid the hissings and
execrations of a vast mob that attended him. In
consequence of a petition from his lordship, his trial
was put off till the 5th, and on a second petition till
the 9th of March, on which day [Monday] it com-
menced, and was continued till Thursday the 19th,
when it was concluded, his lordship having been
found guilty by a unanimous vote of his peers, by
the lord-chancellor pronouncing upon him the awful
sentence of the law.

To give any particular account of this trial would
be to give a history of the rebellion. Suffice it to
say that on W^ednesday, the sixth day occupied by
his trial, his lordship read his defences, which were
drawn up with all that sarcastic shrewdness for
which he was remarkal)le, and displayed his talents
to very great advantage. After being sentenced
the old man made a short speech, begging their
lordships to recommend him to his majesty's mercy.
Turning to the commons at the same time, he said,
that he hoped the worthy managers, as they were
stout, would be merciful. Going from the bar he
added, "My lords and gentlemen, God Almighty
bless you all. I wish you an everlasting farewell,
for we shall never all meet again in one place."

Though he was sentenced on the 19th of March,
there were no orders issued respecting his execution
till the 3d of April, when it was fixed for the 9th
of that month. He had been in the meantime to
all appearance perfectly at his ease, and indifferent
alike to life or death. Being importuned to petition
his majesty for a pardon, he replied he was so old
and infii-m that his life was not worth asking. He
presented, however, a petition for the life of his son,
who was a prisoner in the castle of Edinburgh, and
who had been drawn into the rebellion solely by his
counsels. The notification of his death he received
with perfect composure, drank a glass of wine to
the health of the messenger who brought it, and en-
tertained him for a considerable time with a most
cheerful conversation, assuring him that he would
not change situations with any prince in Europe.
Next day he talked freely of his own affairs, and
took praise to himself for having been concerned in
all the schemes that had been formed in behalf of
the Stuarts since he was fifteen years of age, and
boasted that he never betrayed a private man nor a
public cause in his life. He added, perhaps with
more trath, that he never shed a drop of blood with
his own hand, nor ever struck a man except one
young nobleman [meaning, we suppose. Lord For-
trose in a public meeting at Inverness] whom he
caned for his impertinence and impiety. On the
Sabbath he talked of his family, and showed to his
attendants a letter he had written to his son in a
style affectionate and pious, breathing the resignation
of a martyr. Being asked this day some question
about his religion, he answered that he was a Roman
Catholic, and would die in that faith. Wednesday,
the day before his execution, he awoke early and
prayed for a considerable time with great fervency,
but was very merry during the day, talking generally
of public affairs, particularly of the bill that was
in its progress through parliament for abolishing
heritable jurisdictions, which he highly reprobated.
Thursdav, the day of his execution, he awoke about
three in the morning, and prayed with great fervour.
At five he rose, called as usual for a glass of wine
and water, and, being placed in his chair, sat and

SIMON FRASER JOHX FULTON.

read till seven, when he called for another such re-
freshment. The barber shortly after brought him
his wig, which he found fault with for not being
jviwdered so deeply as usual, saying that he went to
the block with pleasure, and if he had a suit of velvet,
would put it on for the occasion. He then ordered
a purse to put money in for the executioner, which,
when brought, was not to his taste, "yet he thought
no man could dislike it with ten guineas in it." At
nine he called for a plate of minced veal, of which
he ate heartily, and afterwards in wine and water
drank the healths of several of his friends. In the
meantime the crowd was collecting on Tower Hill,
where about ten o'clock the fall of a scaffold con-
verted many idle spectators into real mourners,
upwards of twenty persons being killed and a vast
number maimed. Lovat, it is said, made the remark
that "the more mischief the better sport." About
eleven the sheriff came to demand the body, and he
was conducted to a house near the scaffold, where
he delivered to his lordship a paper, saying he might
give the word of command when he pleased and he
would obey. He then said a short prayer, desired
that his clothes might be given to his friends along
with his body, took a little brandy and bitters, and
was conducted to the scaffold, in going up to which
he looked round him and exclaimed, "God save us!
why should there be such a bustle about taking off
an old gray head, that can't get up three steps with-
out two men to support it?" Observing one of his
friends very much dejected, his lordship clapped him
on the shoulder, saying, " Cheer up, man, I am not
afraid: why should you?" On the scaffold the first
object of his attention was the executioner, to whom
he gave his purse with ten guineas, bidding him do
his work well. He then felt the edge of the axe,
saying he believed it would do, looked at his coffin,
on which was written "Simon Uominus Fraser de
Lovat decollat. April 9, 1747, Jetat. suce 80," and
sitting down in a chair set for him, repeated from
Horace,

" Dulce et decorum est pro patrla mori,"

and from Ovid,

" Nam genus et proavos et quse non fecimus ipsi
Vix ea nostra voco."

He then said a short prayer, called for his solicitor,
\Yilliam Fraser, to whom he gave his gold-headed
cane and his hat, and refjuested him to see that the
executioner did not touch his clothes. Being un-
dressed he kneeled to the block, gave the signal in
half a minute, and the executioner at one blow
severed his head from his body.

Thus died Simon Lord Lovat, one of the most
extraordinary characters recorded in Scottish history.
He was possessed of good natural talents, which,
considering the age in which he lived, and the
troubled life he led, had been considerably cultivated,
but he was totally destitute of that which alone con-
stitutes true dignity of character — moral worth. His
private character, as may well be conceived from
what we have detailed of his public one, was vicious,
his appetites coarse, and his pleasures low and un-
scrupulous. He had, however, seen much of the
world, possessed great address, and when he had a
purpose to serve, could make himself peculiarly
agreeable. Few men have ever been so very for-
tunate, and as few have recklessly thrown their good
fortune from them. ' ' A protracted course of wicked-
ness," one writer has remarked, "seems at last to
have impaired his natural shrewdness; he digged a
pit into which he himself fell, spread a snare with
his own hands in which he was caught, and in the
just judgment of God his hoary hairs came to the
grave with blood."

Besides his early affair with the dowager of Lovat,
his lordship was twice married, first to Margaret,
daughter to the laird of Grant, and secondly to
Primrose, daughter to John Campbell of Mamore.
This latter marriage was singularly unfortunate, and
after the most unheard-of barbarities exercised upon
the lady, his lordship was under the necessity of
granting her a separate maintenance. By his first
wife he had three children, two sons and one
daughter; and by the second one son, who even-
tually succeeded to the estate of Lovat.

FULTON, George, the author of an improved
system of education, was born February 3, 1752-
He served an apprenticeship to a printer in Glasgow,
and afterwards worked as journeyman with Mr.
Willison of Edinburgh. He also practised his pro-
fession for a time at Dumfries. In early life he
married the daughter of Mr. Tod, a teacher in
Edinburgh. His first appearance as a teacher was
in a charity-school in Niddry's Wynd, which he
taught for twenty pounds a year. There an ingeni-
ous and original mind led him to attempt some im-
provements in what had long been a fixed, and, we
may add, sluggish art. Adopting his ideas partly
from the system of Mr. Sheridan, and partly from
his late profession, he initiated his pupils with great
care in a knowledge of the powers of the letters,
using movable characters pasted on pieces of wood
(which were kept in cases similar to those of a com-
positor in a printing-house), the result of which was,
a surprising proficiency generally manifested by his
scholars, both in the art of spelling and in that of
pronouncing and reading the English language.

Having thus given full proof of his qualifications
as an instructor of youth, Mr. Fulton was appointed
by the town-council one of the four teachers of
English under the patronage of the city corporation,
in which situation he continued till about the year
1790, when a dispute with the chief magistrate in-
duced him to resign it, and set up on his own ac-
count. He then removed from Jackson's Close in
the old town to more fashionable apartments in
Hanover Street, where he prospered exceedingly for
more than twenty years, being more especially
patronized by Thomas Tod, Esq., and Mr. Ramsay
of Bamton. In teaching grammar and elocution,
and in conveying to his pupils correct notions of
the analogies of our language, Mr. Fulton was quite
unrivalled in his day. Many teachers from other
quarters became his pupils, and were successful in
propagating his system; and he had the honour
to teach many of the most distinguished speakers of
the day, both in the pulpit and at the bar. During
the long course of his professional life he was in-
defatigable in his endeavours to improve his method
and simplify his notation ; and the result of his
studies was embodied in a pronouncing dictionary,
which was introduced into almost all the schools of
the kingdom.

Mr. Fulton was an eminent instance of the union
of talent with frugal and virtuous habits. Having
realized a considerable fortune by teaching, he re-
signed his school to his nephew Mr. Andrew
Knight, and for the last twenty years of his life
enjoyed othivi citm dif^iiitaU at a pleasant villa called
Summerfield (near Newhaven), which he purchased
in 1806. In the year 1820 Mr. Fulton married, for
the second wife. Miss Eliza Stalker, but had no
children by either connection. He died September
I, 1 83 1, in the eightieth year of his age.

FULTON", John. While the records of humble
life abound with the names of self-taught geniuses in

JOHN FULTON — SIR ARCHIBALD GALLOWAY,

75

poetr}', languages, and tlie fine arts, tlio list of those
who have distinguished themselves by their profici-
ency in the exact sciences and skill in their practical
application, is very limited. And for this the diffi-
culty of learning astronomy or mathematics not only
without instructors but without the necessary imple-
ments, will sufficiently account. Of the few, how-
ever, who contrived to surmount such obstacles, the
name of John Fulton may claim an honourable
place.

He was the eldest son of a shoemaker in the village
of Fenwick, Ayrshire, and was born there in 1800.
His education at the parish school was confined to
the ordinary acquirements of reading and writing,
after which he took his place upon the shoemaker's
stall, and followed the craft of his father. While
thus employed, however, his studies showed that he
was fit for something better than the mechanical oc-
cupation of making and cobbling shoes; and after a
course of self-teaching in astronomy and mechanics
he constructed a planetary machine, which was so
highly appreciated that it was purchased by the Phi-
losophical Society of Kilmarnock. At a later period
he took a principal part in the construction of a small
gaswork, and made a velocipede for a lame lad in
Fenwick. He also studied botany chiefly by way of
recreation, and made in it no mean proficiency. But
his principal study still continued to be the science
of astronomy, in which his chief aim w-as to con-
struct a complete orrery. To this laborious and
complicated task he addressed himself when scarcely
more than twenty-two years of age, with scanty
means and limited time and opportunity — and after
ten years of earnest application the task was accom-
plished. This orrery, a wonder of mechanical and
scientific genius coming from the hands of a village

shoemaker, was exhibited in the principal towns of
Scotland and England, and at Edinburgh the talents
of Fulton were acknowledged by the presentation to
him of the medal of the Society of Arts for Scotland,
of the value of ten sovereigns.

After this achievement the scientific mechanist was
to find a sphere and an occupation better suited to
his studies and pursuits; for he went to London and
entered into the employ of Mr. Bates, the mathema-
tical instrument maker to King William IV. In
this establishment he distinguished himself by his
ingenuity and skill in the more delicate parts of the
profession, especially in making balances for the
royal mint, and theodolites for the Pacha of Egypt.
But his restless inquiring mind did not confine itself
to the exact sciences, or the falirication of those in-
struments which their application demands: he was
also a self-taught student of languages, and made
himself an excellent Greek, French, Italian, and
German scholar, without the instructions of a master.
It was a love of learning for its own sake; and while
he was becoming so rij)e a scholar both in science
and literature, that the halls of a university might
have been proud to receive him, he was contented
with his present position, and also with his wages as
a workman, which ranged only from 25J. to 30^'. a
week. But this literary application, which would
have been enough for a man's entire time, instead of
his occasional hour of relaxation, began to tell upon
the health and brain of poor Fulton; and although
he had been of a robust constitution, he broke down
when he had only completed his fiftieth year. In
1 85 1 he had to be removed to St. Bartholomew's
Hospital, and there, after kind treatment, he was
able in the following year to return to his native
P'enwick, where he died in 1853.

G.

GALL, RlCH.\RD, a poet of considerable merit,
was the son of a notary in the neighbourhood of
Dunbar, where he was born in December, 1776.
He received a limited education at Haddington, and
at the age of eleven was apprenticed to his maternal
uncle, who was a house-carpenter and builder. A
decided repugnance to this mechanical art induced
him soon after to abandon it and enter the business
of a printer, which was only a degree more suitable
to his inclinations, from its connection with litera-
ture, to which he was already much attached. In
the course of an apprenticeship to Mr. David Ram-
say, the liberal and enlightened printer of the Edin-
burgh Evening Coiu-ant, he made great advances in
knowledge, and began at length to attempt the com-
position of poetry in the manner of Burns. At the
expiry of his time he had resolved to abandon even
this more agreeable profession, as affording him too
slight opportunities of cultivating his mind, when
fortunately he obtained the appointment of travelling
clerk to Mr. Ramsay, an employment which pro-
mised him much of that leisure for literary recreation
of which he was so desirous. He continued to act
in this capacity till his death by abscess in his breast,
May 10, 1 801, when he wanted still some months to
complete his twenty-fifth year.

In the course of his brief career Mr. Gall had se-
cured, by his genius and modest manners, the friend-
ship of various literary characters of considerable
eminence, in particular Mr. Alexander Murray, after-

wards professor of oriental languages; Mr. Thomas
Campbell, author of the Pleasures of Hope; and Mr.'
Hector Macneill, author of many admired poems in
the Scottish dialect. His own poetical remains were
published in 1819, in one small volume, and include
some pieces which have retained their place in the
body of our popular poetry, though in general they
are characterized by a tameness of thought and lan-
guage which will for ever prevent their author from
ranking in the same class with Fergusson, Ramsay,
and Bums.

GALLOWAY, Sir Archibald, K.C.B., an
approved soldier and excellent writer, was bom at
Perth in 1780, and was the son of Mr. James Gallo-
way of that city. Having chosen arms for his pro-
fession, and India for his destination, Archibald
Galloway was nominated a cadet in 1 799, and ap-
pointed to the 58th native infantry, of which he
finally became colonel in 1S36. During this long
period of military service in India, extending over
thirty-five years, he was present in several engage-
ments, as well as six sieges and seven storms, in four
of which he took a very active share. When Delhi,
defended by a handful of British troops, maintained
itself against a besieging army of 70,000 men and
130 pieces of cannon, Galloway was one of the brave
defenders, and fully shared in the honours of that
remarkable resistance. He was also present at the
siege of Bhurtpore, conducted by Lord Lake. Cap-

75

JOHN GALT.

lain Galloway's post on that occasion was especially
the post of danger, for it was that of the sappers —
a corps so constantly under the enemy's fire, and so
frequently employed in the most perilous operations
during the siege, that all its officers, and most of its
men, were either killed or wounded. On two occa-
sions he headed it in the attack as part of the forlorn
hope, and on the last he was dangerously wounded.
Besides active services, which are too numerous to
specify, and in which his share was that of a fearless,
indefatigable, and skilful inferior officer, he was em-
ployed on important commissions on the staff, and
for several years held high charges in India in the
military engineer department, the last of which was
that of member of the Military Board under its
new constitution, to which he was appointed by the
governor-general. Lord William Bentinck. In this
responsible office he so ably acquitted himself as to
be honoured, at his departure from India, with the
highest approval of the governor-general in council.
General Galloway's various ser\'ices, during his mili-
tary career, were also publicly acknowledged by
several of our Indian commanders-in-chief upon nine
different occasions — by the supreme government of
India on twenty-one, and by the court of directors and
superior authorities in England on eleven — making
an amount of distinction sufficient to show that he
only required a separate command, and an oppor-
tunity, to raise his name to the highest rank in the
annals of our Anglo-Indian warfare.

In authorship General Galloway also obtained a
distinction which will perhaps outlast the remem-
brance of his soldiership. At a time when such
knowledge was most needed by our military gover-
nors and civilians in the East, he wrote a commen-
tary on the Mahometan Law, and another on the
Lm.w, Constitution, and Goz'ernment of l7idia. He
also wrote a work on Indian Sieges, which was so
highly esteemed that it was reprinted by the court
of directors, and used as a te.\t-book in their mili-
tary college, as well as distributed for general use
throughout our Indian army. In addition to these
he was author of several military treatises. He was
nominated a Companion of the Bath in 1838, and a
Knight Commander in 1848; and besides these public
honours, he was elected a director of the East India
Company in 1846, and officiated as its chairman in
1849. His death, which was sudden, being after a
few hours' illness, occurred at his house, 18 Upper
Harley Street, on the 6th of April, 1850.

GALT, John*. This popular novelist and multi-
farious writer was bom at Irvine, in Ayrshire, on the
2d of May, 1779, and was the son of a sea-captain
who was employed in the West India trade. The
stay of young Gait in a district with which he after-
wards made the world so well acquainted was not
long-continued, as his parents removed to Greenock
when he was eleven years old. In this town of com-
mercial bustle and enterprise his education was soon
finished, as he was destined to follow the occupation
of a merchant ; and by way of acquiring a proper
knowledge of his future profession, he was, in the
first instance, employed as a clerk in the custom-
house of Greenock, and afterwards in a counting-
house in the same town. This was unfavourable
training for that life of authorship which he followed
with such ardour in after-periods; but his diligence
and perseverance in self-education during the hours
of leisure not only formed the groundwork, but
the incitement, of his future literary undertakings.
His first attempts, as is usual with young aspirants,
were in poetry; and one of these, a tragedy founded
on the historj- of Mary Queen of Scots, he sent to

Constable for publication, but had the MS. returned
unread. He was consoled, however, for this disap-
pointment by having his smaller lucubrations occa-
sionally published in the Greenock Advertiser and
one or two of the Scottish magazines. He thus saw
himself in print, and the consequences it is easy to
divine — his enthusiasm would expand into full-grown
authorship. Undismayed by the rejection of his
tragedy. Gait next attempted an epic, the title of
which was The Battle of Largs. It was written in
octo-syllabic rh)Tne, and he prided himself not a
little on the fact that, in this matter at least, he had
preceded Sir Walter Scott. This poem, written in
five cantos, was enabled partly to struggle into light
in consequence of detached portions of it having been
published in the Scots Magazine for 1803 and 1804.
It is as well that the world was not troubled with it
in toto, as the following invocation to Lok, which is
in "Ercles' vein," will sufficiently testify: —

"The hideous storm that dozing lay
Thick blanketed in clouds all day,
Behind sulphureous Hecla, we
Roused to this wrecking wrath for thee.
And sent hira raging round the world,
High in a thund'ring chariot hurl'd;
Whose steeds, exulting with their load.
As the grim fiend they drag abroad,
\Vhisk with their tails the turrets down
Of many a temple, tower, and town."

Or take the following description of Erie, one of the
Norse Eumenides, in which the sudden alternations
of rising and sinking can scarcely be paralleled even
by Sir Richard Blackmore : —

" Her looks sulphureous glow —
Her fumace-e)-es, that bum'd below
A dismal forehead, glaring wide.
Like caves by night in Hecla's side,
And what her fangs for staff did grasp,
'Twas fired iron — Hell's hatchway's hasp,

At length she stood.
And scowling o'er the weltering flood,
That louder rag'd, she stretch'd her hand,
Clutching the red Tartarean brand
Aloft, and as the black clouds sunder'd.
Dared the high heavens till they thunder'd."

It was in London that this poetical attempt was
made. He had gone to the metropolis in 1803 or

1804, and there a few months of leisure at his first
entrance had encouraged those desperate concep-
tions in Runic mythology which he extended through
five mortal cantos. It was not, however, by writing
epics that he could support himself in London. He
therefore commenced business in good earnest, and
entered into partnership with a young countn-man of
his own: but they soon disagreed; their affairs were
unsuccessful, and in about three years the concern
became bankrupt. This combination of poetr)- and
business was not sufficient for the versatile mind of
Gait; other subjects of study occupied his attention,
among which were astrolog}-, alchemy, histon,-, and
political economy. Was it wonderful then that his
name, before it figured in authorship, should have
found a place in the bankrupt list?

After this mercantile disaster Gait tried to re-
establish himself in business, along with a brother;
but this attempt also proved abortive. Sick of mer-
chandise, and impatient to trj' something else, he re-
solved to devote himself to the profession of law, and
for this purpose entered himself at Lincoln's Inn.
He was soon overtaken by a ner\-ous indisposition
that unfitted him for the dry studies of Coke upon
Littleton; and, by way of solace, until the malady
should pass away, he sat down to write a book.
The subject was ready to his hand ; for, in a walk
with some friends through the colleges of Oxford in

1805, he had felt indignant that Cardinal Wolsey,
the founder of Christ Church College, should have

JOHN GALT.

77

been allowed to bequeath such a boon without a
fitting commemoration from its learned disciples;
and since better might not be, he had resolved,
alien though he was, at some time or other to repair
the deficiency. That season had now arrived; and
accordingly, about the beginning of 1809, he com-
menced a life of Cardinal Wolsey, and finished it in
a very few months. The short time that he took
for the necessary reading and research, as well as
writing, which such a subject required, will give an
adequate conception of the natural impetuosity of his
intellect. But with this haste and hurry there was
curiously combined the grave methodical arrange-
ment of the counting-house: he transcribed upon one
part of his writing-paper the historical facts extracted
from Cavendish, Fiddes, and Hume, and wove round
them, upon the margin and between the interstices,
his own remarks and deductions, until a gay parti-
coloured web was the result, after which he systema-
tized the whole into a continuous narrative. "I was
desirous," he says of it, "to produce a work that
would deserve some attention." This work, which
he afterwards improved and extended, was not pub-
lished till three years afterwards. As his health did
not improve, he now resolved to try the effects of
travel before being called to the English bar; and in
1809 he left England for a tour, which extended over
three years. The result of this long journey was two
separate works at his return. The first was entitled
Voyages a?id Travels in the Years 1809, 1810, and
181 1, containing Statistical, Commercial, and AIiscel~
laneons Observations on Gibraltar, Sardittia, Sicily,
Malta, and Turkey; and the second, Letters from
the Levant, containing Viaus of the State of Society,
manners, Opinions, and Commerce in Greece and
Several of the Principal Lslands of the Afxhipelago.

These were not theonly works which Gait published
on his return to England. His poetical inspiration
still haunted him, but so much sobered down, that
during his tour he had been employing himself in
writing dramas on the plan of Alfieri, where the sim-
plicity of the plot and fewness of the characters were
to be compensated by the full force of nature and
poetic excellence. This was certainly a great sacrifice
in one whose imagination so revelled in plot, and was
so fertile in incident. The volume, which was pub-
lished in 1812, contained the tragedies of " Maddalen,"
"Agamemnon," "Lady Macbeth," "Antonia," and
'"Clytemnestra," and as only 250 copies were printed,
the work being published on his own account, it had
little chance of undergoing the test of public opinion.
Even as it was, however, it was roughly handled in
the Quarterly Reiiira) by an ironical criticism, in
which Gait was elevated to the rank of a second
Shakspeare. Soon after his return he married Eliza-
beth, daughter of Dr. Tilloch, editor of the Philoso-
phical Magazine, and proprietor of the Star, a news-
paper on which Gait had been for some time em-
ployed. In the same year also (181 2), so prolific in
his publishing adventures, he sent through tlie press
his Reflections on Political and Coni7nercial Subjects.

Having now abandoned all thoughts of devoting
himself to the bar. Gait was compelled to have re-
course to authorship until something more stable
should occur. He therefore wrote in the Monthly
Magazine and other periodicals of the day. He also
projected, with Mr. Colbum the publisher, aperiodical
which, under the title of the uVeiv British Theatre,
should publish the best of those dramatic productions
which the managers of the great play-houses had re-
jected. It was hoped that in this way deserving
talent would be rescued from oblivion, and "many
a gem of purest ray serene" be made to glitter in the
eye of a delighted world, instead of being trampled

among the dust of the green-room. It was a most
benevolent and hopeful speculation, of which Gait,
the proposer, was appointed editor. But little diil
he anticipate the flood-gates of mud which such a
proposal opened. There was an instant jail-delivery
of manuscript plays, enough to have converted the
country into a literary Botany Bay or Alsatia; and
Gait, amidst the heap of dramatic matter under which
he was well-nigh smothered, was obliged to confess
at last that the managers of theatres were not such
reckless or unjust rejectors as they had been called.
The work at its commencement was successful, but
soon aftersvards fell off, although the plan was im-
proved by the admission of plays that had been
written but not presented. Before it expired Gait
possessed and availed himself of the opportunity of
inserting some of his own dramatic productions,
among which was the tragedy of The Witness, after-
wards performed in several towns with altered titles.
After this his career for some years was one of
active business, combined with authorship. During
his travels he had conceived the idea of importing
British goods through Turkey, in spite of the conti-
nental blockade by which Napoleon endeavoured to
exclude our commerce; and upon this plan he em-
ployed himself diligently for some time both in Eng-
land and Scotland. But the conception appeared
too bold and hazardous to those traders who were
invited to the risk; and his efforts ended in disap-
pointment. Another occupation with which he was
commissioned was to superintend a bill through the
House of Commons intrusted to him by the Union
Canal Company. As enough of leisure was afforded
him in London during the suspense of this bill, he
wrote the Life and Studies of Bc7ija77ii7t West. He
also wrote a romance, of which the hero was the
Wandering Jew. Of this work two considerable
editions were sold, although it had never been re-
viewed. This neglect the author, who affectionately
clung to the remembrance of his Wandering Jew to
the last, regarded with some surprise. "How the
work," he says, "should have been so long unnoticed,
while others which treat of the same subject have
attracted considerable attention, I cannot say ; but
this I know, that many of my own far inferior pro-
ductions, in originality and beauty, have been much
applauded, and yet I doubt if they have sold so well."
We suspect that few of our readers have been among
the purchasers of this wonderful myth, or have even
heard its name till now.

Amidst all the toil and struggle of these literary
attempts, John Gait had not yet discovered where
his strength lay. History, biography, travels, epic
and dramatic poetry, romance— he had tried them
all, but attained success in none. His over-boiling
imagination and erratic fancy were too much even
for fiction, whether in prose or verse; and when he
attempted sober narrative, his love of originality was
ever leading him into some startling paradox which
the facts of history were unable to make good. The
eccentricity of his political opinions had also given
not a little offence to the still predominant party;
for although a Tory in theory, he seemed a very
Radical in practice, and had more than once run a
muck against the powers that be, when he found
them stopping up his way. On this account he had
also brought down upon his head the ire of the
Quarterly Rtinew, whose censure was enough to
blight the popularity of an authoramong Tory readers,
and throw him out upon neutral ground. Thus, up
to 1820, his attempts were a series of literary blunders,
and his production of that year. The Earthquake —
a stern sombre novel in three volumes, which has
shared the fate of his other productiorts written

78

JOHN GALT.

before this period, should, in ordinar}' circumstances,
have been his last attempt in authorship. But in his
long search in the dark he had hit upon the right
vein at last. It was not in the wild and wonderful
that he was to excel, but in the homely, the humorous,
and the caustic. "The hero's harp, the lover's lute,"
with which he had tried to enchant the world, but to
no purpose, were to be exchanged for the vulgar bag-
pipe and stock-and-horn. His first attempt in this
way was the Ayrshire /.^jnUes — a work which origin-
ated in mere accident. One of his enjoj-ments was
to "show the lions" to such strangers as were intro-
duced to him in London; and of these, as might be
expected, were many original characters from the far
north, whose sensations among the wonders of the
great metropolis were a rich feast to his keen observ-
ant eye and quick sense of the ludicrous. It soon
occurred to him that these peculiarities might be em-
bodied in particular personages, and illustrated by
correspondent adventures; the whole materials were
before him like those of a rich landscape, and only
needed artistic selection and combination to form a
ver>' choice picture. Upon this idea he set to work,
and without any formal plot for his story, scene after
scene grew upon his hand as it was needed, until the
Ayrshire Lej:;at,:es was the result. It was in this way
that Iliiviphrcy Clinker was produced — the best of
all Smollett's productions. As fast as the chapters
of Gait's new attempt were written, they were pub-
lished in BUukiuood^s Magazine of 1820 and 1821,
and their appearance excited universal attention,
while they continued to rise in popularity to the last:
so that, when finished, they were published separately,
and eagerly devoured by the novel-reading public.
It was a style of writing which had been so long dis-
used as to have all the charms of originality, while
the truthfulness of the different characters was such
as to impart to fiction all the charms of reality.
Gait found that he had succeeded at last, and fol-
lowed up his success with the Annals of the Parish,
which was published in 1821. This work, however,
although so late in its appearance, was, properly
speaking, the first of Gait's Scottish novels, as it had
been written in 1813, but laid aside, until the success
of the Ayrshire Legatees encouraged him to commit
it to the press. In this work also he had not
troubled himself about the construction of a regular
plot, and, like its predecessor, it was all the better
for the omission. Long before he commenced the
Annals his ambition had been to "write a book that
would be for Scotland what the 'Vicar of Wakefield is
for England;" and this was the result. He certainly
could not have adopted a better model.

No one can imagine that the pen of Gait, so in-
defatigable when success was against it, would now
relapse into idleness. In the Annals of the Parish
he had exhibited the progress of improvement in a
rural district of the west of Scotland; he was now
desirous of describing the same progress in a town.
Such was the origin of the Proz'ost, which was
jniljlished in 1822. He had now learned the true
secret of novel-writing, as is evident from the follow-
ing statement: "In the composition of the Prorost I
followed the same rule of art which seemed to me so
proper in the Annals of the Parish, namely, to bring
impressions on the memory harmoniously together;
indeed, I have adhered to the principle in all my
subsequent compositions, and sometimes I fancy that
the propriety of doing so may be justified by nature.
I think no ingenuity can make an entirely new thing.
Man can only imagine the old together; join legs,
and arms, and wings as he may, only the forms of
previously-created things can be imitated. The
.whole figure may be outre, and unlike anything in

the heavens, or the earth, or the waters under the
earth; but the imitations of the human hand in the
details will ever be evident. ... In my youth I
wrote a poem called the Legend of St. Anthotty,
which I undertook with the intention of depicting
comical phantasms; but I had not proceeded far till
I was induced to change my mind, by observing
that my most extravagant fancies were only things
of curious patchwork, and that the same defect might
be discerned in all those things in which the 'creative'
power of genius was said to be more indisputable.
... I therefore give up all pretension to belonging
to that class who deal in the wild and wonderful;
my wish is, to be estimated by the truth of whatever
I try to represent."

The next work of Gait was the Steam-boat, a
novel, published originally in Blactiuood, in which
he wished to give such an account of the coronation
of George IV. as an "abortive bailie" from Scotland
might be likely to do. This was followed by Sir
Andrezii IVyllie, in which he wished to exhibit the
rise and progress of a humble Scotchman in London.
In this tale, however, he gave way to his literary be-
setting sin, a fault of which he was afterwards fully
conscious; and he says of it very justly, "The inci-
dents are by far too romantic and uncommon to my
own taste, and are only redeemed from their extra-
vagance by the natural portraiture of the characters."

But, indeed, either accurate conception or finished
execution could scarcely be expected from Gait
in his writings at this period, when we remember
that the three last-mentioned works, viz. the Proi'ost,
the Steam-boat, and Sir Andre'LO Wyllie, were all
published in 1822. In the following year he pro-
duced his Gathering of the West, which was also
published in the first instance in Blackwood'' s Maga-
zine. The subject was the visit of George IV. to
Scotland — an event that appeared in so many
ludicrous aspects to the mirthful satirical mind of
Gait, that he could not repress his profane chuckling
at this great avatar, even when he endeavoured to
look the most composed. He therefore says of the
Gathering, and its kindred work the Steam-boat —
"Notwithstanding the deference for magnates and
magnificence under which these works were written,
the original sin may be detected here and there peep-
ing out, insomuch that those who consider Tor}dsm
as consisting of the enjoyment of at least pensions,
must be dreadfully shocked to think even a moderate
politician of any sort could be so far left to himself
as to speak so irreverently of things which concerned
the affairs of empires and burgh towns."

We have already alluded to Gait's exuberance in
the productions of 1822; but that of the following
year was still more excessive, so that it might well
be said of him, I'ij-es acqiii7-it cundo. Thus the
Entail, Ringan Gilhaize, and the Spaeivife — each a
three-volumed novel — were published during this
year of portentous abundance. The first of these
novels was founded upon an incident related by the
lord-provost of Glasgow to Gait. It was in this
way that he was accustomed to make the most of
everj'thing that he had heard or witnessed, by either
laying it down as the groundwork of a tale, or intro-
ducing it as an amusing episode; and in this faculty
of adaptation lay much of the excellence of his
popular works. Thus his vigorous and picturesque
description of the northern coast of Scotland in the
Entail, was expanded from an interesting account
of the locality given to him by a daughter of Sir
John Sinclair; while many of the grotesque events
and humorous jokes with which his other tales
abound had long previously enlivened the firesides
of the peasantry. In him, however, it was no small

JOHN GALT.

merit that he should have introduced them so happily,
and told them so well. As a proof of the accepta-
bility of his last-mentioned work, Gait tells us, in
his Literary Life and Miscellanies, that Sir Walter
Scott had read it thrice, and Lord Byron as often.
Of Ringan Gilhaizc he also tells us that it received
the unique and distinguished honour of being recom-
mended from the pulpit by one of the ministers of
Aberdeen. This tale, in which the narrator, a per-
secuted Covenanter, relates the history of his grand-
father, gives a sketch of the rise and progress of the
Reformation in Scotland, from the days of Knox
and Murray to the close of the reign of the Stuarts;
and for the purpose of collecting materials, and pre-
serving the accuracy of the narrative. Gait went to
Rinsory House to gather traditions, and collected
several relics of the battle of Killiecrankie. The
cause which incited him to write such a work was
indignation at the popularity of Old Mortality, in
which the Covenanters were held up to ridicule;
and he was animated with a chivalrous zeal to vindi-
cate the character of these heroic but much vilified
sufferers in the cause of conscience and religion.
But unfortunately Ringan Gilhaize was no match for
Balfour of Burley. In this tale Gait very rashly
abandoned his own field of broad reality and plain
everyday life, for one where nothing but history and
imagination could aid him; and therefore it exhibited
a marked deficiency both in execution and popular
interest. It was still worse, however, with the Spae-
ivife, where he went back from the Covenanting
periods, with which the Scottish public can still
sympathize, to the fifteenth century of Scottish history,
about which they know little and care still less; and
v/ith all his attempts at the sublime, which often
swelled into the turgid, he could not interest his
readers one jot in the Duke of Albany and his worth-
less brood, or even in James I., our heroic minstrel
king. It was certainly an over-ambitious attempt,
and as such it failed. At this period the empire of
historical romance belonged to Sir Walter Scott,
and to him alone, without peer or rival. But that
such an attempt was the opening of a safety-valve,
and that the work would have exploded in some
fashion or other, is manifest from the following state-
ment of the author: — "The fate of James I. of Scot-
land early seemed to me possessed of many dramatic
capabilities ; and in the dream of my youth, to
illustrate by tales, ballads, and dramas the ancient
history of my country, it obtained such a portion
of my attention that I have' actually made a play
on the subject. In riper life, many years after, I
wrote the novel ; and my knowledge of the age in
which the transactions lie enabled me to complete
the story in such a manner that, merely as an anti-
quarian essay, it merits consideration." To the
Sparuiife succeeded Rothelan, in which, not content
with going back so far as to the reign of Edward
III., Gait transferred the scene to England, where
his great yyri't' as a Scottish novelist had to be utterly
laid aside; and Rothelan was a failure. Among the
manifold aims of the author's ambition, that of
being a good musical composer happened to be
one; and in Rothelan Gait had not only written two
songs, but also set them to music. But it unfortu-
nately happened that the printer was smitten with
the same ambition, and not liking the tunes, he
substituted two of his own, which were printed
in the work. "At the time," says Gait, "I was
staying with a friend, and a copy of the book was
left for me in the morning. On going down stairs
I found it in the librar}', where we usually break-
fasted; and as pleased at the sight as a hen with
her egg, of which she cannot keckle enough to the

world about, I lifted the volumes, and turned to
the tunes. Courteous reader, sympathize! Instead
of my fine airs, with an original inflection that had
been much admired by a competent judge, I beheld
two that surely had been purchased at the easy
charge of a halfpenny a-piece from a street piper !
I looked aghast, and almost fainted. There was a
grand piano in the drawing-room. I rushed, book
in hand, upstairs in a whirlwind. It was of no use
— the piano too was a particeps criniinis, and would
only pronounce the Highland coronachs which stand
in the publication even to this day; and the worst of
it was, my friend, instead of taking out his handker-
chief and condoling becomingly, only gave vent to
'uncxtinguishable laughter,' and paid no attention to
my pathetic appeals at the figure I must cut, being
really no deacon among musicians, at the thought of
having two such horrid frights affiliated to me."

A change once more occurred in the life of Gait,
in which the active laborious author was to be trans-
fonned into the equally active and enterprising man
of business. Besides being reckoned only inferior to
Sir Walter Scott as a delineator of Scottish character
and manners, his reputation stood high as one well
acquainted with the principles and practice of com-
merce; and on this account the inhabitants of Canada
commissioned him as their agent to prosecute their
claims on the home government for the losses they
had sustained during the occupation of the province
by the army of the United States. During the ne-
gotiations which occurred in consequence, a proposal
to sell crown -lands in Upper Canada for the in-
demnification of the sufferers was made by Mr. Gait,
and adopted by government; and a Canada company
was incorporated in 1826 to purchase land and colo-
nize it. During the previous year he had been em-
ployed in valuing the lands that were to be exposed
to sale, after which he had returned to England; but
in the autumn of 1826 he went back to Canada,
where he was employed by the company as their
superintendent. His able and active management
soon secured the confidence of his constituents; new
settlements were founded, a village was called by
his name, and the township of Guelph was his entire
creation. But unfortunately Gait's activity was not
balanced by an equal amount of prudence, and in
the ardour of his proceedings he managed to involve
himself in quarrels with the colonial government, and
with Sir Peregrine Maitland, who was at its head.
Such is too often the folly and the fate of those who
go forth as the reformers of our colonies ; they enter
their new sphere of action with their heads filled
with magna charta and the rights of British citizen-
ship, forgetful all the while of the distance of these
colonies from the parent seat of government, and the
necessity of a more stringent rule than would be
tolerated in London or Edinburgh. This seems to
have been the error of Gait ; and in consequence of
the complaints that were sent home against him he
was superseded by the directors of the company.
But, whether in the bustle of action or the chagrin of
disappointment, his pen could not lie idle ; and
during this period he produced the Omen, a tale that
was favourably reviewed in Blackiuood's Magazine by
Sir Walter Scott, and the Last of the Lairds, a novel
which he meant to be the continuation of a class that
has the Annals of the Parish for its commencement.
For the encouragement of the drama in Quebec he
also wrote a farce, entitled Visitors, or a Tf-ip to
Quebec, which was acted with great success by an
amateur company. Another, which he wrote for
New York, to propitiate the Americans, who had
taken offence at his Visitors, was entitled An Aunt
in Virginia, and was after^vards published in Blacks

So

JOHN GALT FRANCIS G.\RDEX.

waatfs Afagasitu, with tbe scene txansfeTTed firom
New York to LcMidoii. He intended to write a third
for his own town of Goelph, where his dwelling-
house was to be conTerted into a theatre, and the
drama intzodnced into this inhnt settlement; bat his
des^ was suspended by more urgent demands, and
the necessitj of his speedj return to £i^;land.

This event ocamed in 1S29, after he had been
two years and a half in America. On his retom,
without a situation and ahnost penniless, Gait's
creditors became urgent, and he was obliged, in omd-
sequence, to avail himself of the insolvent dditots'
act. The world was to be commenced anew; but
the dasticitj of youth and the ardour of hope were
exhausted, and Gait, now at the age of fifty, had
already done mme than most men have achieved at
that period. And yet he must ocmtinue an author,
no loiter, however, from dhoice but necesaty; fix-
of an that he had possessed nothing but his pen re-
mained. And Ixavely he girded himsdf for the task,
and pnUished in succession Zaarrie Todd, SmtUun-
nan, and the Life of Lard Bjmm. They were
written with his wonted rapidity, being produced
in 1S29 and l8jO; but the spirit that formerly ani-
mated him had become languid, so that these works,
CTcePent though they are, will not stand compari-
son with his former nords that so hi^y interested
the Scottish public While he was occupied with
the Life of Lord Bjrort, a caustic production, in
whidi his lordship meets with somewhat rou|^ en-
tertainment; Gait accepted the editorship of the
Courier, a new^nper of hi^ Tory principles But
however well adapted in many wajs for sudh an
office, it is easy to guess that he could not omtiinie
long to hold it, and that the same indqiendence of
^irit which wrecked him in Canada would mar
hun as the Coryjdiens of any political partfwhateva-
in the journalism of London. ''The <mly kind of
scruple that I felt," he says, "if sndi it may be called,
was in thinkingthepoliricsof the journal a little fax)
ardent for the spirit ^the times; and, in ccnosequence,
my first object was to render them more suitaHe tc
what I ajyrehended was the wholesome state of
opinion, preparatory to introdncii^ occaaonally more
of disq[iaationinto theartides. . . . Accordingly,
without manifeting particular soliotnde to make
mysdf remarkable, I b^an by attemptii^ gradually
to aUeriate the ultra-toryism of the paper; by expLi-
nations of more liberality than the sentiments of an''
party." By such an honest procedure eitho' Xt':
jtsrwsfecpa ot the editor must go down; and G&l.
thus continues his narrative: "I had not been lor.
installed as editor tiD I percdved that the basinet .
would not suit me. In point of emolument it was
convenient; but as I have ebewheie shown, m<xa^
matters have ever been perhaps too sightly r^arded
by me, and my resignatitw, thoo^ it partook of that

Eromptitude of enunciation whidi all my decisions
ave uniformly manifested, was, however, the result
of very solemn reflection. To men who have juster
notions ol the value of mimey than I have ever en-
tertained— not firom persuasion but from halnt, if
not ccmstitntitmal carelessness — my resignation in
sudi a crisis of fortune will not be easily comprdien^
sible; but to those who think, as the old soi^ sings,
that there are thii^ *whidi gold can never buy,' no
pother explanation can be necesary."

About the same period Gait, while thus busied
with literature, attempted to Sxm a new American
land company, but was nnsnccessfol; and to a^ravate
his misfortunes, two attartg of paralysis warned him
that his day <^ enteqxise had ended — diat he was
now chained to the oar. He retired to his- native
jimiiliy there to await his tinK; so doubly imceitain;

and to dose his eyes, when his hocr came, amidst
the scenery and society which he had loved so wdL
Vet he still continued to linger on from year to year,
although repeated shocks of the malady inflicted at
each visitation the "bitterness <^ death;" and while
his memory was impaired and his mind enfeebled,
he was still oUiged to toO for the support of a life
that seemed scarcdy worth havii^. And yet he
could still be happy, far his was that healthfid
state of feding that looked habitually upon the
bright side of thirds, aitd could find itself occupation
as long as a angle &cnlty remained in exerdse.
With an ainaiwu^qg^^ or a chance fiiend to transcribe
from his dictation, he continued to pour forth volume
after volume, "to wrendi life from famine," as he
moumftilly expressed it; and althoi^h these produc-
tions could scarcdy bear oMnpariscHi with those of
his happia years; they still retained the impress d[
his former vivadty and inventiveness, as well as
much of his vigorous talent and readi of thought.
In this way he produced, among other puHicatJOTis,
the AtUobufgmf^ of John Gait, in two volumes Svo,
and die Lttentry Life and Bliscdhatia of Jokm Gait,
in three Tolumes izmo, from whidi the materials oi
the foregoing sketdi have been mainly derived. At
ler^th, after the fourteenth stroke of para^psis, he
died at Greenock, <m the lith of April, 1859.

The works of Gait were very immerous, compris-
ing about fifty Tohnnes ci novds, and more than a
score of dian^s, indqiendently of his iMographical
and misceHaneous wodcs. Of these, however, only
a tithe erf' his tales wiU continne to be read and valued,
not only for their intrinsic excellence, but as the
transciq>ts (hastate of society that is isqudly passing
away. In this d^iartment the name of John Gait
win be perpetuated as a naticmal rememlxance; and
his descriptions be prized ■wlien the livisff realitv K?s
d^tarted,

GAin)EN. 77 ■ -- - - ;,

tue 2.\-i or J vrn-a. 1 ~2 :

Alexander Garden o£ 1

Jsae. daug^bter of Sir

f the judges of th

. : ie Tsnal course

-jniveibity,

.-samembe:

benevialent irund ga.
hilarity: had he liv
have turned these c
but they suited will
became the prince
reached that period .
ings generally make :.
with bittemesson tz .
contented mind lo^ :
^aDg!a able to indu!
gences of others wi v.
same overflown^ c.
the body was disa'i
social cude. Mac
been preserved of h
his eaidy |xactice :-\
dnring the time w'~ :
in possession oi "L
im^^iain {afterwarci
preferred wine and

FRAN'CIS GARDEN.

8l

ing, that, when sent as a patrol by Sir John Cope
to watch the coast towards Musselburgh, instead of
proving a protection to the army, they were them-
selves taken prisoners, just when the feast was at its
highest, by a single individual, who happened to be
prowling in the neighbourhood. It must, however,
be allowed, that at that period there were not many
inducements to exertion held out to Scotsmen of the
higher rank. There were few men eminent for their
genius, or even for the more passive acquirements of
classical learning which distinguished the neighbour-
ing country. The bar was the only profession which,
from its respectability and emoluments, offered itself
as a resource to the younger sons of the landed pro-
prietors, then sufficiently poor; and while the learn-
ing and information at that time required by its
members in their professional capacity were not
great, the jealousy of England, just after the union,
allowed but to one family in Scotland the rational
prospect that time and labour might be well spent
in preparing for the duties of a statesman. The
state of the country and its political influence were
singularly discouraging to the upper classes, and
from many naturally active spirits being left unem-
ployed, they turned to indolence or unprofitable
amusements those talents which might have rendered
them the best ornaments of their country. The
nation had then, indeed, begun by degrees to shake
off its lethargy, and by the time the subject of this
memoir had advanced a little in life, he became one
of the most admired and beloved social members of
a circle of illustrious philosophers and historians,
whose names are dear to the memory of their coun-
trymen as those who first roused their slumbering
energies.

On the 14th of July, 1744, Mr. Garden was made
sheriff of Kincardineshire, and he soon after showed
the soundness of his perception and the liberality of
his mind, by stretching forth his hand to assist the
modest talent and elegant taste of the author of TJie
Minslrel. To those who may, from its lately extinct
remnants, have formed any idea of the stately cold-
ness preserved by the higher classes in Scotland
towards their inferiors in the middle of the eighteenth
century, it will operate as no small e\'idence of
the discernment and kindness of the judge, that
he began his acquaintance with the poet and philo-
sopher when that individual was only a cotter
boy sitting in a field writing with a pencil. In
August, 1759, Mr. Garden was chosen one of the
legal assessors of the to\^'n of Edinburgh; and as a
higher step in professional advancement, in April,
1761, accepted office in the latter days of Mr. Pitt's
administration, as joint solicitor-general of Scotland,
along with Mr. James Montgomery, afterwards lord
chief-baron. What were his professional attainments
as a la\v)-er it is at this distance of time difficult to
determine, as he has left behind him no professional
work, the only index which can lead to a knowledge
of his mere technical attainments as a barrister. As a
pleader, however, we know he was highly estimated
— as his connection with a renowned lawsuit, which
spread its fame over all Europe, and created in Scot-
land a ferment of disputation inferior only to the heat
of religious controversy, has well shown. The ap-
pearance made by Mr. Garden in the Douglas cause
rendered his name better known, and his talents
more appreciated, than generally falls to the lot of a
mere forensic pleader. He was early connected with
the proceedings of this great case, in the Toumelle
process in France, where he appeared as senior to
his future friend and literary associate, the classical
Burnet of Monboddo, and is generally reported to
have left behind him a high opinion of his learning,
VOL. II,

and the powers of his eloquence, even when clothed
in a foreign language. He became connected with
the case on its transference to England, but amidst
its multifarious changes he was raised to the bench
as successor to Lord Woodhall on the 3d of July,
1764, in time to act as a judge on the case, then very
different in its aspect and material from what it was
when he performed the part of a counsel.

In 1762 Mr. Garden had purchased the estate of
Johnston in Kincardineshire, and in 1765 he com-
menced those improvements on his estate which, if
not among the most brilliant acts of his life, are per-
haps among those which deserve to be longest and
best remembered. At the time when the estate of
Johnston was purchased, the village of Lawrencekirk,
if a village it could then be called, contained but
fifty-four inhabitants, living there, not because it was
a centre of commercial or industrial circulation, but
because chance had brought a few houses to be built
in each other's vicinity. Lord Gardenstone caused
a new line of street to be planned out on his own
property ; he gave extremely moderate leases of small
farms, and giound for building upon, to the last, for
the period of 100 years; he established a linen manu-
factory, built an inn, and with a singular attention
to the minute comforts and happiness of his rising
flock, seldom equalled by extensive projectors, he
founded a library for the use of the villagers. To assist
the progress of society in reducing men dispersed
over the country into the compact limits of a town,
is an easy, and generally a profitable process, but to
found to\\Tis or villages where there is no previous
spirit of influx, is working to a certain degree against
nature, and can only be accomplished by labour and
expense. Although the benevolent mind of Lord
Gardenstone produced a mutual understanding and
kindness betwixt himself and his tenants, which mere
commercial speculators fail in producing, yet many
of his best-formed plans for the prosperity of the
village proved unavailing, and he was frequently
subject to disappointment anc^ needless expense.
He seems, however, to have felt the pleasure of
being kind without profiting himself At much ex-
pense he supported a printfield and manufacture of
stockings, and purchased a royal charter erecting
Lawrencekirk into a burgh of barony, vdih. a regular
magistracy. He had the satisfaction before his death
to find the population increase to 5CX3 souls, and in
a letter to the inhabitants which he published late in
life, he says — "I have tried in some measure a variety
of the pleasures which mankind pursue; but never
relished anything so much as the pleasure arising
from the progress of my village."

In 1776 Lord Gardenstone, in addition to his
seat on the civil bench, was appointed to fill the
office of a lord-commissioner of justiciar)-, or ordinary
judge in the criminal court, as successor to Lord
Pitfour. Nine years afterwards, having succeeded,
by the death of his elder brother, to the extensive
estate of Troup, he relieved himself for ever from
some of his laborious judicial duties, and for a time
from them all, and resolved to attempt to recruit his
failing constitution, by making a pleasure tour
through the Continent. Accordingly, in 1786, he
passed into France by Dover, visiting Paris and
Lyons, remaining during part of the winter at Mar-
seilles. In the ensuing spring he passed to Geneva,
where he saw the ruined remnant of Voltaire's vil-
lage at Femey, from which he was able to draw a
comparison much in favour of his own, where the
people enjoyed permanent political rights, which
would render them independent of any future superior
who might not be disposed to imitate the beneficence
of the original patron. Lord Gardenstone spent the

41

82

FRANXIS GARDEN JAMES GARDINER.

remainder of his allotted time in traversing the
Netherlands, Germany, and Italy; making, in his
progress, a collection of natural curiosities, and com-
mitting to writing a number of cursory remarks on
the men and manners he encountered, and the works
of art he had seen on his tour, or met anywhere else,
part of which were submitted to the world in two
duodecimo volumes, denominated Travdliiig Alcmor-
aiiiiiDiis madcin a Tour upon the Continent of Europe
in the year 1792, and a remaining volume was pub-
lished after his death. About the same time he
published Miscellanies in Prose and Verse, a collec-
tion of petty productions which had given him amuse-
ment, either in composing or hearing, during his
earlier days. Perhaps without affectation, the gravity
of tlie judge might have restrained the man from
giving to the world a publication which could not
have raised the better part of his reputation. Lord
Gardenstone was either not a poet born, or his ima-
gination had not stood the ordeal of a profession
which deals in fact and reason. His serious verses
have all the stiffness of the French school, without
either the loftiness of Pope or the fire of Dryden.
The author had, to be sure, an ever-teeming mind,
which never emitted anything common or contempt-
ible, but it is to be feared that the merits his
verses possess are those of rhetoric rather than of
poetry; for, though constructed in the same work-
shop which formed words and ideas that thrilled
through the minds of a subdued audience, they are
certainly very flat and inelegant as poetical produc-
tions. The satirical pieces have a singular pungency
and acnteness, and are fine specimens of the early
natural powers of the author; but they are rather
destitute of the tact acquired by professed satirists.
A biographer who seems to have been intimate with
his lordship,* describes him as having expressed
great contempt for the affectation of those who ex-
pressed disgust at the indelicacies of Horace or Swift,
and it must certainly be allowed that, in his hum-
orous fragments, he has not departed from the spirit
of his precepts, or shown any respect for the feelings
of these weaker brethren. Lord Gardenstone spent
the latter days of his life, as he had done the earlier,
in an unrestricted benevolence and a social inter-
course with the world, indulging in the same prin-
ciples, which years had softened in their activity, but
had not diminished. He was still an ornament and
a useful assistant to the circle of great men which
raised the respectability of his country. He con-
tinued to use his then ample fortune, and his prac-
tised acuteness, in giving encouragement to letters,
and in useful public projects, the last of which ap-
pears to have been the erection of a building over
the mineral spring of St. Bernard's, in the romantic
vale of the water of Leith, a convenience which
seems to have been much more highly appreciated
formerly than now, and is always mentioned as one
of the chief incidents of the judge's life. He died at
Morningside, near Edinburgh, on the 22d of July,
1793. The village which had afforded him so much
Ijcncvolent pleasure exhibited, for a considerable
period after his death, the outward signs of grief,
and, what seldom happens in the fluctuations of the
world, the philanthropist was mourned by those who
had experienced his public munificence as a private
friend.

In person. Lord Gardenstone is described as having
been a commanding man, with a high forehead,
features intellectually marked, and a serious penetrat-

1 Life introductory to vol. 3d of Travelling Mcmoratidmns,
the only life of Gardenstone hitherto published— at least the
one which, mutatis luuinniiis, has been attached to his name
ia biographical dictionaries.

ing eye. He was generally a successful speaker, and
differed from many orators in being always pleas-
ing. The effect appears to have been produced
more by a deep-toned melodious voice, a majestic
ease and carelessness of manner, which made him
appear unburdened with difficulties, and a flow of
language, which, whether treating of familiar or of
serious subjects, was always copious — than by the
studied art of forensic oratory. His political princi-
ples were always on the side of the jieople, and, so
far as may be gathered from his remarks, he would
have practically wished that every man should enjoy
every freedom and privilege which it might be con-
sonant with the order of society to allow, or which
might with any safety be conceded to those who
had been long accustomed to the restraints and
opinions of an unequal government. From all that
can be gathered from his life and character, it is to
be regretted that Lord Gardenstone, like many other
eminent persons of his profession in Scotland, should
have left behind him no permanent work to save his
memory from oblivion. His Travelling J\Iemora7t-
dums display the powers of a strongly thinking mind,
carelessly strewed about on imworthy objects; the
ideas and information are given with taste and true
feeling; but they are so destitute of organization or
settled purpose, that they can give little pleasure to
a thinking mind searching for digested and useful
information, and are only fit for those desultory
readers who cannot, or, like the author himself, will
not, devote their minds to any particular end. The
.author's criticisms, scattered here and there through
his memorandums, his letters to his friends in the
Edinburgh Magazine, and numberless pencil marks
on the margins of his books, are always just and
searching, and strikingly untrammelled by the pre-
judices of the day, a quality well exhibited in his
praises of Shakspeare, then by no means fashion-
able, and of the satellites of the great bard, Shirley,
Marlow, Massinger, and Beaumont and Fletcher,
who were almost forgotten.

GARDINER, James, a distinguished military
officer and Christian hero, was born at Carriden in
Linlithgowshire, January II, 1688. Of this remark-
able person we shall abridge the pleasing and popu-
lar memoir written by Dr. Doddridge, adding such
additional particulars as have fallen under our ob-
servation in other sources of intelligence.

Colonel Gardiner was the son of Captain Patrick
Gardiner, of the family of Torwoodhead by Mrs.
Mary Hodge, of the family of Gladsmuir. The
captain, who was master of a handsome estate,
served many years in the army of King William
and Queen Anne, and died abroad with the British
forces in Germany, shortly after the battle of Hoch-
stet, through the fatigues he underwent in the duties
of that celebrated campaign. He had a company
in the regiment of foot once commanded by Colonel
Hodge, his brother-in-law, who was slain at the
head of that regiment at the battle of Steinkirk,
1692.

Mrs. Gardiner, the colonel's mother, was a lady
of a very valuable character; but it pleased God to
exercise her with very uncommon trials ; for she not
only lost her husband and her brother in the service
of their country, but also her eldest son, Mr. Robert
Gardiner, on the day which completed the l6th year
of his age, at the siege of Namur in 1695.

She took care to instruct her second son, the sub-
ject of this memoir, at a very early period of his
life in the principles of Christianity. He was also
trained up in human literature at the school of Lin-
lithgow, where he made a very considerable progress

JAMES GARDINER.

83

in the languages. Could liis mother, or a very re-
ligious aunt, of whose good instructions and exhorta-
tions he often spoke with pleasure, have prevailed,
he would not have thought of a military life. But
it suited his taste ; and the ardour of his spirit, ani-
mated by the persuasions of a friend who greatly
urged it, was not to be restrained. Nor will the
reader wonder that, thus excited and supported, it
easily overbore their tender remonstrances, when
he knows that this lively youth fought three duels
before he attained to the stature of a man; in one
of which, when he was but eight years old, he re-
ceived from a boy much older than himself a wound
in his right cheek, the scar of which was always
very apparent. The false sense of honour which
instigated him to it might seem indeed something
excusable in those unripened years, and considering
the profession of his father, brother, and uncle; but
he was often heard to mention this rashness with
that regret which the reflection would naturally
give to so wise and good a man in the maturity of
life.

He served first as a cadet, which must have been
very early; and when at fourteen years old he bore
an ensign's commission in a Scots regiment in the
Dutch service; in which he continued till the year
1702, when he received an ensign's commission from
Queen Anne, which he bore in the battle of Ramil-
lies, being then in the nineteenth year of his age.
In this memorable action, which was fought May
23, 1706, our young officer was of a party in a forlorn
hope, commanded to dispossess the French of the
churchyard at Ramillies, where a considerable num-
ber of them were posted to remarkable advantage.
They succeeded much better than was expected; and
it may well be supposed that Mr. Gardiner, who
had before been in several encounters, was glad of
such an opportunity of signalizing himself. Accord-
ingly, he had planted his colours on an advanced
ground ; and while he was calling to his men he re-
ceived a shot into his mouth ; which, without beat-
ing out any of his teeth, or touching the fore-part
of his tongue, went through his neck, and came out
about an inch and a half on the left side of the
vertebrce. Not feeling at first the pain of the stroke,
he wondered what was become of the ball, and in
the wildness of his surprise began to suspect he had
swallowed it; but dropping soon after, he traced the
passage of it by his finger, when he could discover
it no other way. This accident happened about five
or six in the evening; and the army pursuing its ad-
vantages against the French, without ever regarding
the wounded (which was the Duke of Marlborough's
constant method), the young officer lay all night in
the field, agitated, as may well be supposed, with a
great variety of thoughts. When he reflected upon
the circumstances of his wound, that a ball should,
as he then conceived it, go through his head with-
out killing him, he thought God had preserved him
by miracle ; and therefore assuredly concluded that
he should live, abandoned and desperate as his state
seemed to be. His mind, at the same time, was
taken up with contrivances to secure his gold, and
he had recourse to a Veiy odd expedient, which
proved successful. Expecting to be stripped, he
first took out a handful of that clotted gore of which
he was frequently obliged to clear his mouth, and
putting it into his left hand, he took out his money
(about nineteen pistoles), and shutting his hand and
besmearing the back part of it with blood, he kept
it in this position till the blood dried in such a man-
ner that his hand could not easily fall open, though
any sudden surprise should happen. In the morn-
ing the French, who were masters of that spot, came

to plunder the slain ; and seeing him to appearance
almost expiring, one of them was just applying a
sword to his breast, when, in the critical moment,
a Cordelier, who attended the plunderers, intcqiosed,
taking him by his dress for a Frenchman; and said,
"Do not kill that poor child." Our young soldier
heard all that passed, though he was not able to
speak one word ; and, opening his eyes, made a
sign for something to drink. They gave him a sup
of some spirituous liquor, and afterwards carried him
to a convent in the neighbourhood, where he was
cured by the benevolent lady-abbess in the course
of a few months. He received a great many devout
admonitions from the ladies there, and they would
fain have persuaded him to acknowledge what they
thought so miraculous a deliverance, by embracing
the Catholic Faith, as they were pleased to call it.
But they could not succeed : for though no religion
lay near his heart, yet he had too much of the spirit
of a gentleman lightly to change that form of religion
which he wore, as it were, loose about him.

He served with distinction in all the other glorious
actions fought by the Duke of Marlborough, and
rose through a course of rapid and desers'cd promo-
tion. In 1706 he was made a lieutenant, and very
quickly after he received a cornet's commission in
the Scots Greys, then commanded by the Earl of
Stair. On the 31st of Jannaiy, 17 14-15, he was
made captain-lieutenant in Colonel Ker's regiment
of dragoons. At the taking of Preston in Lanca-
shire, 1 715, he headed a party of twelve, and, ad-
vancing to the barricades of the insurgents, set them
on fire, notwithstanding a furious storm of musketry,
by which eight of his men were killed. A long
peace ensued after this action, and Gardiner, being
favourably known to the Earl of Stair, was made
his aid-de-camp, and accompanied his lordship on
his celebrated embassy to Paris. When Lord Stair
made his splendid entrance into Paris, Captain Gar-
diner was his master of the horse ; and as much of
that admirably well-adjusted ceremony fell upon
him, he gained great credit by the manner in which
he conducted it. Under his lordship's favour a
captain's commission was procured for him, dated
July 22, 1 715, in the regiment of dragoons com-
manded by Colonel Stanhope, then Earl of Har-
rington ; and in 1 7 1 7 he was advanced to the majority
of that regiment; in which office he continued till it
was reduced, November 10, 171S, when he was put
out of commission. But his majesty King George
I. was so thoroughly apprised of his faithful and
important services, that he gave him his sign-manual
entitling him to the first majority that should become
vacant in any regiment of horse or dragoons, which
happened about five years after to be in Croft's regi-
ment of dragoons, in which he received a commission,
dated June 1st, 1724; and on the 20th of July, the
same year, he was made major of an older regiment,
commanded by the Earl of Stair.

The remainder of his military appointments may
be here summed up. On the 24th January, 1 729-3°.
he was advanced to the rank of lieutenant-colonel
in the same regiment, long under the command of
Lord Cadogan, with whose friendship this brave and
vigilant officer was also honoured for many years;
and he continued in this rank and regiment till the
19th of April, 1743, when he received a colonel's
commission over a new regiment of dragoons, at the
head of which he was destined to fall, about two
years and a half after he had received it.

Captain Gardiner lived for several years a veiy
gay and dissolute life, insomuch as even to distinguish
himself at the dissolute court of the Regent Orleans.
His conduct was characterized by every species of

84

JAMES GARDINER.

vice, and his constitution enabled him to pursue his
courses with such iitsouciaiice of manner, that he
acquired the name of "the happy rake." Still the
checks of conscience, and some remaining principles
of good education, would break in upon his most
licentious hours, and I particularly remember, says
Dr. Doddridge, he told me that when some of his
dissolute companions were once congratulating him
on his distinguished felicity, a dog happening at that
time to come into the room, he could not forbear
groaning inwardly, and saying to himself, "Oh that
I were that dog!" But these remonstrances of rea-
son and conscience were in vain ; and, in short, he
carried things so far, in this wretched part of his life,
that I am well assured some sober English gentle-
men, who made no great pretences to religion, how
agreeable soever he might have been to them on
other accounts, rather declined than sought his com-
pany, as fearing they might have been ensnared and
corrupted by it.

The crisis, however, of this course of wickedness
arrived at last. I am now come, says his biographer,
to that astonishing part of his story, the account of
his conversion, which I cannot enter upon without
assuring the reader that I have sometimes been
tempted to suppress many circumstances of it ; not
only as they may seem incredible to some, and en-
thusiastical to others, but I am very sensible they
are liable to great abuses; which was the reason that
he gave me for concealing the most extraordinar}'
from many persons to whom he mentioned some of
the rest.

This memorable event happened towards the
middle of July, 17 19; but I cannot be exact as to
the day. The major had spent the evening (and,
if I mistake not, it was the Sabbath) in some gay
company, and had an unhappy assignation Avith a
married woman, of what rank or quality I did not
particularly inquire, whom he was to attend exactly
at twelve. The company broke up about eleven;
and not judging it convenient to anticipate the time
appointed, he went into his chamber to kill the
tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing book, or
some other way. But it very accidentally happened
that he took up a religious book which his good
mother or aunt had, without his knowledge, slipped
into his portmanteau. It was called, if I remember
the title exactly, T/u Christian Sohiier, or Heaven
taken by Storm ; and was written by Mr. Thomas
Watson. Guessing by the title of it that he should
find some phrases of his own profession spiritualized,
in a manner which he thought might afibrd him some
diversion, he resolved to dip into it ; but he took no
serious notice of anything he read in it : and yet,
while this book was in his hand, an impression was
made upon his mind (perhaps God only knows
how) which drew after it a train of the most impor-
tant and happy consequences. There is indeed a
possibility, that while he was sitting in this solitude,
and reading in this careless and profane manner, he
might suddenly fall asleep, and only dream of what
he apprehended he saw. But nothing can be more
certain than that, when he gave me this relation
['739]i he judged himself to have been as broad
awake during the whole time as he ever was in any
part of his life ; and he mentioned it to me several
times afterwards as what undoubtedly passed, not
only in his imagination, but before his eyes.

lie thought he saw an unusual blaze of light fall
on the book while he was reading, which he at first
imagined might happen by some accident in the
candle. But lifting up his eyes he apprehended,
to his extreme amazement, that there was before
him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible re-

presentation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross,
surrounded on all sides with a glory ; and was im-
pressed as if a voice, or something equivalent to a
voice, had come to him, to this effect (for he was
not confident as to the very words), "Oh sinner!
did I suffer this for thee, and are these the returns?"
But whether this were an audible voice, or only a
strong impression on his mind equally striking, he
did not seem very confident, though, to the best of
my remembrance, he rather judged it to be the
former. Struck with so amazing a phenomenon as
this, there remained hardly any life in him, so that
he sank down in the arm-chair in which he sat, and
continued, he knew not exactly how long, insensible;
which was one circumstance that made me several
times take the liberty to suggest that he might pos-
sibly be all this while asleep; but however that were,
he quickly after opened his eyes, and saw nothing
more than usual.

It may easily be supposed he was in no condition
to make any obser\'ation upon the time in which he
had remained in an insensible state. Xor did he,
throughout all the remainder of the night, once
recollect that criminal and detestable assignation
which had before engrossed all his thoughts. He
rose in a tumult of passions not to be conceived, and
walked to and fro in his chamber, till he was ready
to drop down in unutterable astonishment and agony
of heart ; appearing to himself the vilest monster in
the creation of God, who had all his lifetime been
crucifying Christ afresh by his sins, and now saw,
as he assuredly believed, by a miraculous vision, the
horror of what he had done. \Vith this was con-
nected such a view, both of the majesty and good-
ness of God, as caused him to loathe and abhor him-
self, and to repent as in dust and asJies. He imme-
diately gave judgment against himself, that he was
most justly worthy of eternal damnation : he was
astonished that he had not been immediately struck
dead in the midst of his wickedness : and (which I
think deserves particular remark) though he assuredly
believed that he should ere long be in hell, and set-
tled it as a point with himself for several months,
that the wisdom and justice of God did almost ne-
cessarily require that such an enormous sinner should
be made an example of everlasting vengeance, and
a spectacle as such both to angels and men, so that
he hardly durst presume to pray for pardon ; yet
what he then suffered was not so much from the
fear of hell, though he concluded it would soon be
his portion, as from a sense of that horrible ingrati-
tude he had shown to the God of his life, and to
that blessed Redeemer who had been in so affecting
a manner set forth as crucified before hint.

The mind of Major Gardiner continued from this
remarkable time till toward the end of October (that
is, rather more than three months, but especially the
two first of them) in as extraordinar)' a situation as
one can well imagine. He knew nothing of the joys
arising from a sense of pardon; but, on the contrar)',
for the greater part of that time, and with very short
inter\-al3 of hope towards the end of it, took it for
granted that he must in all probability quickly
perish. Nevertheless, he had such a sense of the
evil of sin, and of the goodness of the Divine Being,
and of the admirable tendency of the Christian
revelation, that he resolved to spend the remainder
of his life, while God continued him out of hell, in
as rational and as useful a manner as he could; and
to continue casting himself at the foot of divine
mercy, every day, and often in a day, if peradventure
there might be hope of pardon, of which all that he
could say was, that he did not absolutely despair.
He had at that time such a sense of the degeneracy

JAMES GARDINER.

SS

of his own heart tliat he hardly durst form any
determinate resokition against sin, or pretend to
engage himself by any vow in the presence of God;
l)ut he was continually crying to him that he would
deliver him from the bondage of corruption. lie
perceived in himself a most surprising alteration with
regard to the dispositions of his heart; so that, though
he felt little of the delight of religious duties, he
extremely desired opportunities of being engaged in
them; and those licentious pleasures which had before
been his heaven, were now absolutely his aversion.
And indeed, when I consider how habitual all those
criminal indulgences were grown to him, and that
he was now in the prime of life, and all this while
in high health too, I cannot but be astonished to
reflect upon it, that he should be so wonderfully
sanctilled in body, as well as in soul and spirit, as
that, for all the future years of his life, he, from that
hour, should find so constant a disinclination to, and
abhorrence of, those criminal sensualities, to which
he fancied he was before so invincibly impelled by
his very constitution, that he was used strangely to
tliink and to say, that Omnipotence itself could not
reform him, without destroying that body and giving
him another.

Nor was he only delivered from that bondage of
corruption which had been habitual to him for many
years, but felt in his breast so contrary a disposition,
that he was grieved to see human nature, in those to
whom he was most entirely a stranger, prostituted
to such low and contemptible pursuits. He, there-
fore, exerted his natural courage in a very new kind
of combat, and became an open advocate for religion,
in all its principles, so far as he was acquainted with
them, and all its precepts, relating to sobriety, right-
eousness, and godliness. Yet he was very desirous
and cautious that he might not run into an extreme,
and made it one of his first petitions to God, the
very day after these amazing impressions had been
wrought in his mind, that he might not be suffered
to behave with such an affected strictness and pre-
ciseness, as would lead others about him into mis-
taken notions of religion, and expose it to reproach
or suspicion, as if it were an unlovely or uncomfort-
able thing. For this reason he endeavoured to ap-
pear as cheerful in conversation as he conscientiously
could; though, in spite of all his precautions, some
traces of that deep inward sense which he had of his
guilt and misery would at times appear. He made
no secret of it, however, that his views were entirely
changed, though he concealed the particular circum-
stances attending that change. He told his most
intimate companions freely, that he had reflected on
the course of life in which he had so long joined them,
and found it to be folly and madness, unworthy a
rational creature, and much more unworthy persons
calling themselves Christians. And he set up his
standard, upon all occasions, against principles of
infidelity and practices of vice, as determinately and
as boldly as ever he displayed or planted his colours,
when he bore them with so much honour in the
field.

Such is the account given by an exceedingly honest,
able, and pious writer of the remarkable conversion
of Colonel Gardiner; an account too minute and
curious to be passed over by a modern biographer,
whatever credence may be given to the circumstances
of which it is composed. While the minds of our
readers will probably find an easy explanation of
the "phenomenon" in the theories which some late
writers have started respecting such impressions of
the senses, we shall present a remarkably interesting
notice of the pious soldier which was written twenty
years before his death, and a still longer period

antecedent to Doddridge's publication, and must
therefore be considered as entitled to particular at-
tention and credit. It is extracted from a journal of
the historian Wodrow [MS. Advocates' Library^],
where it appears under date May, 1725, as having
just been taken down from the mouths of various in-
formants :

"From him and others I have a very pleasant ac-
count of Major (Jardiner, formerly master of horse
to the Earl of Stair, and now lately, on the death of
Crai<r, made Major of Stair's gray horse.

He seems to be one of the most remarkable instances
of free grace that has been in our times. He is one
of the bravest and gallantest men in Britain, and
imderstands military affairs exactly well. He was a
lieutenant or a captain many years ago in Glasgow,
where he was extremely vicious. He had a criminal

correspondence with ,* as my informer tells

us he owns with sorrow. He acknowledges with
the deepest concern there was scarce an evil but
what he was addicted to it, and he observes that he
on many accounts has reason to reckon himself the
chief of sinners, much more than Paul; for besides
the multitude of the most horrid sins, he did them
not ignorantly and through unbelief, but over the
belly of light and knowledge. When he was with
my Lord Stair, ambassador at Paris, he was riding
on one of his most unruly and fiery horses, which
could not bear the spur, and in the streets met the
hostie and crowd with it. Whether of design or
accidentally I cannot say, but his horse and he soon
made a clean street, and the hostie came to the
ground. The ambassador's house was attacked for
the abuse of the hostie, and he was obliged to write
over to court about it. The change wrought on the
major a few years ago was gradual and imperceptible.
I think profane swearing was the first thing he re-
frained from, and then other vices, and still as he
refrained from them, he bore testimony against them
in others, in the army, at court, and everywhere, and
reproved them in great and small with the utmost
boldness. At length he is thoroughly reformed, and
walks most closely in ordinances; and while w^th his
troops in Galloway, he haunts mostly at the houses
of the ministers; and has made a sensible reformation
among the troops he commands, and nothing like
vice is to be seen among them. His walk and
conversation is most tender and Christian ; he rises
by four in summer and winter, and nobody has
access to him till eight, and some later, and these
hours he spends in secret religion. He is ^ close and
exemplary keeper of ordinances, and a constant
terror to vice wherever he is, and a serious keeper of
the Sabbath. W'e have at this time several excel-
lent officers in the army, and who have been in it:
Colonel Blackader, Colonel Erskine, Lieutenant-
colonel Cunningham, and this gentleman. May the
Lord increase them!"

"This resolute and exemplary Christian now
entered upon that methodical manner of living which
he pursued through so many succeeding years of life.
A life anything like his could not be entered upon in
the midst of such company as he had been accus-
tomed to keep without great opposition, especially
as he did not entirely withdraw himself from all the
circles of cheerful conversation; but, on the contrary,
gave several hours every day to it, lest religion should
be reproached as having made him morose. He,
however, early began a practice which, to the last
day of his life he retained, of reproving vice and pro-
faneness, and was never afraid to debate the matter

1 The name is expressed in a secret hand used by the ve-
nerable historian.

86

JAMES GARDINER.

with any, under the consciousness of such superiority
in the goodness of his cause.

"A remarkable instance of this happened about
the middle of the year 1720, though I cannot be very
exact as to the date of the story. It was, however,
on his first return to make any considerable abode
in England, after this remarkable change. He had
heard on the other side of the water that it was cur-
rently reported among his companions at home that
he was stark mad — a report at which no reader who
knows the wisdom of the world in these matters,
will be much surprised any more than himself. He
concluded, therefore, that he should have many battles
to fight, and was willing to despatch the business as
fast as he could. And therefore, being to spend a
few days at the count r}'-house of a person of distin-
guished rank with whom he had been very intimate
(whose name I do not remember that he told me, nor
did I think it proper to inquire after it), he begged
the favour of him that he would contrive matters so
that a day or two after he came down, several of
their former gay companions might meet at his lord-
ship's table, that he might have an opportunity of
making his apology to them, and acquainting them
with the nature and reasons of his change. It was
accordingly agreed to; and a pretty large company
met on the day appointed, with previous notice that
Major Gardiner would be there. A good deal of
raillery passed at dinner, to which the major made
very little answer. But when the cloth was taken
away, and the servants retired, he begged their
patience for a few minutes, and then plainly and
seriously told them what notions he entertained of
virtue and religion, and on what considerations he
had absolutely determined that, by the grace of God,
he would make it the care and business of life, what-
ever he might lose by it, and whatever censure and
contempt he might incur. He well knew how im-
proper it was in such company to relate the extra-
ordinary manner he was awakened, which they would
probably have interpreted as a demonstration of
lunacy, against all the gravity and solidity of his dis-
course; but he contented himself with such a rational
defence of a righteous, sober, and godly life as he
knew none of them could with any shadow of reason
contest. He then challenged them to propose any-
thing they could urge to prove that a life of irreligion
and debauchery was preferable to the fear, love, and
worship of the eternal God, and a conduct agreeable
to the precepts of his gospel. And he failed not to
bear his testimony, from his own experience, that,
after having run the widest round of sensual pleasures,
with all the advantages the best constitution and
spirits could give him, he had never tasted anything
that deserved to be called happiness till he had made
religion his refuge and his delight. He testified
calmly and boldly the habitual serenity and peace
that he now felt in his own breast, and the compo-
sure and pleasure with which he looked forward to
objects which the gayest sinner must acknowledge to
be equally unavoidable and dreadful. I know not
what might be attempted by some of the company
in answer to this; but I well remember he told me
the master of the table, a person of a very frank and
candid disposition, cut short the debate, and said,
'Come, let us call another cause: we thought this
man mad, and he is in good earnest proving that we
are so.' On the whole, this well-judged circumstance
saved him a great deal of future trouble. When his
former acquaintance obser\-ed that he was still con-
versable and innocently cheerful, and that he was
immovable in his resolutions, they desisted from
farther importunity. And he has assured me that,
instead of losing any one valuable friend by this

change in his character, he found himself much more
esteemed and regarded by many who could not per-
suade themselves to imitate his example.

"I meet not with any other remarkable event relat-
ing to Major Gardiner, which can properly be intro-
duced here, till the year 1726, when, on the nth of
July, he was married to the Right Honourable Lady
Frances Erskine, daughter to the fourth Earl of
Buchan, by whom he had thirteen children, five only
of which sur\-ived their father — two sons and three
daughters. From this period till the commencement
of the French war he lived either at his villa of Bank-
ton in East Lothian, or moved about through the
countiy with his regiment. Towards the latter end
of 1742 he embarked for Flanders, and spent some
considerable time with the regiment at Ghent, where
he much regretted the want of those religious ordin-
ances and opportunities which had made his other
abodes delightful. As he had the promise of a regi-
ment before he quitted England, his friends were
continually expecting an occasion of congratulating
him on ha\'ing received the command of one. But
still they were disappointed; and on some of them
the disappointment seemed to sit heavy. As for the
colonel himself, he seemed quite easy about it, and
appeared much greater in that easy situation of mind
than the highest military honours and preferments
could have made him. His majesty was at length
pleased to give him a regiment of dragoons, which
was then quartered just in the neighbourhood of his
own house in Scotland. It appeared to him that
by this remarkable event Providence called him
home. Accordingly, though he had other prefer-
ments offered him in the army, he chose to return,
and, I believe, the more willingly, as he did not ex-
pect there would have been an action."

The latter years of Colonel Gardiner's life were
rendered gloomy by bad health, and for some time
before his death he appeared to move constantly
imder a serious anticipation of that event. AVhen
the insurrection of 1745 commenced in the High-
lands, his raw regiment of dragoons constituted an
important part of the small military force with
which Sir John Cope was required to meet the
coming storm. Cope marched in August into the
Highlands, leaving Gardiner's and Hamilton's dra-
goon regiments in the low country; and when the in-
surgents, by a strange manoeuvre, eluded the govern-
ment general, and descended upon the Lowlands,
these inexperienced troops were all that remained
to oppose their course. After an ineffectual attempt
to protect Edinburgh, the two regiments fled in a
panic to Dunbar, where they were rejoined by the
foot under the command of Sir John Cope, and the
whole army then marched towards the capital in
order to meet and give battle to the clans. The
worthy colonel was much depressed by the conduct
of his men, and anticipated that they would not
behave better in the action about to take place : he
said, however, that though he could not influence
the conduct of others, he had one life to sacrifice for
his country's safety, and he would not spare it.

"The two hostile bodies came into view of each
other on the 20th of September in the neighbourhood
of his own house near Prestonpans. The colonel
drew up his regiment in the afternoon, and rode
through all their ranks, addressing them at once in
the most respectful and animating manner, both as
soldiers and as Christians, to engage them to exert
themselves courageously in the service of their coun-
try, and to neglect nothing that might have a ten-
dency to prepare them for whatever event might
happen. They seemed much affected with the ad-
dress, and expressed a very arder.t desire of attack-

JAMES GARDINER GEORGE GARDNER.

S7

ing the enemy immediately : a desire in which he
and another very gallant ofTicer of distinguished rank,
dignity, and character, both for bravery and conduct,
would gladly have gratified them, if it had been in
the power of either. He earnestly pressed it on the
commanding officer, as the soldiers were then in
better spirits than it could be supposed they would
be after having passed the night under arms. He
also apprehended, that by marching to meet them,
some advantage might have been secured with regard
to the ground ; with which, it is natural to imagine,
he must have been perfectly acquainted. lie was
overruled in this advice, as also in the disposition
of the cannon, which he would have jilanted in the
centre of our small army, rather than just before his
regiment, which was in the right wing. And when
he found that he could not carry either of these
points, nor some others, which, out of regard to the
common safety, he insisted upon with unusual ear-
nestness, he dropped some intimations of the con-
sequences he apprehended, and which did in fact
follow; and submitting to providence, spent the re-
mainder of the day in making as good a disposition
as circumstances would allow.

He continued all night under arms, wrapped up
in his cloak, and generally sheltered under a rick
of barley which happened to be in the field. About
three in the morning he called his domestic servants
to him, of which there were four in waiting. He
dismissed three of them, with most affectionate Chris-
tian advice, and such solemn charges relating to the
performance of their duty and the care of their souls,
as plainly seemed to intimate that he apprehended
it at least very probable he was taking his last fare-
well of them. There is great reason to believe that
he spent the little remainder of the time, which could
not be much above an hour, in those devout exercises
of soul which had so long been habitual to him,
and to which so many circumstances did then concur
to call him. The army was alarmed by break of
day by the noise of the approach of the enemy, and
the attack was made before sunrise ; yet it was light
enough to discern what passed. As soon as the
enemy came within gun-shot, they made a furious
fire ; and it is said that the dragoons which consti-
tuted the left wing immediately fled. The colonel,
at the beginning of the onset, which in the whole
lasted but a few minutes, received a wound by a
bullet in his left breast, which made him give a
sudden spring in his saddle; upon which his servant,
who had led the horse, would have persuaded him
to retreat : but he said, it was only a wound in the
flesh, and fought on, though he presently after re-
ceived a shot in his right thigh. In the meantime
it was discerned that some of the insurgents fell by
him.

Events of this kind pass in less time than the de-
scription of them can be written, or than it can be
read. The colonel was for a few moments supported
by his men, and particularly by Lieutenant-colonel
Whitney, who was shot through the arm here, and
a few months after fell nobly in the battle of Falkirk;
and by Lieutenant West, a man of distinguished
bravery; as also by about fifteen dragoons, who stood
by him to the last. But after a faint fire, the regi-
ment in general was seized with a panic: and though
their colonel and some other gallant officers did
what they could to rally them once or twice, they
at last took a precipitate flight. And just in the
moment when Colonel Gardiner seemed to be mak-
ing a pause, to deliberate what duty required him
to do in such a circumstance, he saw a party of the
foot who were then bravely fighting near him, and
whom he was ordered to support, had no officer to

head them; upon which he said eagerly, "Those
brave fellows will be cut to pieces for want of a com-
mander;" or words to that effect: which while he
was speaking, he rode up to them, and cried out
aloud, "Fire on, my lads, and fear nothing." But
just as they were out of his mouth a Highlander
advanced towards him with a scythe fastened on a
long pole, with which he gave him such a deep
wound on his right arm that his sword dropped out
of his hand ; and at the same time several others
coming about him while he was thus dreadfully en-
tangled with that cruel weapon, he was dragged off
his horse. The moment he fell another Higlilander
gave him a stroke, either with a broadsword or a
Lochaber-axe, on the hinder ])art of his head, which
was the mortal blow. All that his faithful attendant
saw farther at this time was, that as his hat was fall-
ing off, he took it in his left hand, and waved it as
a signal to him to retreat ; and added, what were
the last words he ever heard him to speak, "Take
care of yourself:" upon which the ser\'ant retired,
and fled to a mill at the distance of about two miles
from the spot of ground on which the colonel fell ;
where he changed his dress, and disguised like a
miller's servant, returned as soon as possible; yet
not till nearly two hours after the engagement. The
hurry of the action was then over, and he found his
much-honoured master not only plundered of his
watch and other things of value, but also strii)ped
of his upper garments and boots; yet still breathing,
though not capable of speech. In this condition
he conveyed him to the church of Tranent, from
whence he was immediately taken into the minister's
house and laid in bed; where he continued breathing
and frequently groaning, till about eleven in the
forenoon, when he took his final leave of pain and
sorrow. Such was the close of a life which had
been so zealously devoted to God, and filled up with
so many honourable services.

His remains were interred the Tuesday following,
September 24, at the parish church at Tranent — -
where he had usually attended divine service — with
great solemnity. His obsequies were honoured with
the presence of some persons of distinction, who
were not afraid of paying that piece of respect to his
memory, though the country was then in the hands
of the enemy. But indeed there M'as no great hazard
in this; for his character was so well known, that
even they themselves spoke honourably of him, and
seemed to join with his friends in lamenting the fall
of so brave and so worthy a man.

In personal appearance Colonel Gardiner was
tall, well proportioned, and strongly built, his eyes
of a dark gray, and not very large ; his forehead
pretty high; his nose of a length and height no way
remarkable, but very well suited to his other features;
his cheeks not very prominent, his mouth moderately
large, and his chin rather a little inclining to be
peaked. He had a strong voice, and lively accent;
with an air very intrepid, yet attempered with much
gentleness; and there was something in his manner
of address most perfectly easy and obliging, which
was in a great measure the result of the great candour
and benevolence of his natural temper ; and which,
no doubt, was much improved by the deep humility
which divine grace had wrought into his heart, as
well as his having been accustomed from his early
youth to the company of persons of distinguished
rank and polite behaviour.

GARDNER, Georgf., an eminent botanist, was
born in iSio, at Ardentinny, where his father, a
native of Aberdeen, acted as gardener to the Earl of
Dunmore. He was the second son. In 1S16 his

88

GEORGE GARDNER.

father became gardener to tlie Earl of Ei,'lintan at
Ardrossan, and there the sulject of our sketch at-
tended the parish school till 1S22, when his parents
removed to Glasgow. Here he was placed at the
grammar-school, and, in the course of his studies, ac-
quired a good knowledge of tlie Latin language.
He had early iniljihed, ])robal>ly from liis father's
occupation, a taste for botany; but it was j^erhaps as
much by accident as design that he subsequently de-
voted his life to the science.

He commenced the study of medicine in tlie An-
dersonian university of Glasgow, and continued,
during the winter and summer sessions of 1829-1832,
to pursue his studies with a degree of zeal and per-
severing industry which won for him high distinction
in college honours. He also, in 1829-1831, attended
the classes of anatomy, surgery, chemistry, materia
medica, &c., in the university, where he likewise
•listinguislied himself in the prize-list. In 1S30 he
joined llie Glasgow Medical Society and during that
year and 1 83 1, 1832, his attendance at the Royal
Infirmary was unremitting. Still, amidst these
severer studies, he foinid leisure to indulge liis early
bias for botany. His first rudiments of the science
were obtained from Dr. Rattray, and he continued
to improve himself by botanizing rambles in the
country, and frequent visits to the Botanical Garden,
with the curator of which, Mr. Stewart Murray, he
formed a friendship which continued to the day of
his death. Through Mr. Murray, and from his
having discovered in one of his rambles the rare
A'lipliar niiiiiina or pinnila, growing in Mugdock
Loch, he became known to Sir William J. Hooker,
the eminent professor of botany in the university
of Glasgow. He now attended Sir William's botani-
cal lectures and that truly amiable gentleman soon
formed a high estimate of his character and talents.
As a student he made several botanical excursions
to the Highlands with the professor and his class;
and to the intimacy thus produced may be attributed
the important change in his future career.

From the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of
Glasgow, Gardner obtained his diploma as surgeon,
with high marks of distinction. Meanwhile he had
made himself acquainted with the flowering plants
of Scotland, and stutlied cryptogamic botany so suc-
cessfully that, in 1836, he brought out a work en-
title<l Aliisci Britannici, or Pocket Herbarium of
Hritish A/osses, arranged and named according to
Hooker's British Flora. This work was flatteringly
received, and lias been of great value to muscologists.
The specimens are beautifully dried, and neatly at-
tached; whilst its general accuracy can be depended
upon, as he had not only free access to the splendid
liijrary of Sir William Hooker, but the benefit of his
personal assistance.

A copy of the Aliisci Britannici having reached
the late Duke of Bedford — well known for the in-
terest which he took in botanical science — his grace
Ijccame a liberal ]5atron, and warmly encouraged his
ambition to proceed upon a foreign exploratory mis-
sion. After the death of the lamented Drummond,
whose laljours in Texas and parts of Central America
had greatly enriched the Royal Botanic Garden, the
directors of that institution were solicitous still further
to promote its scientific character; and arrangements
were made for Gardner's proceeding to North Brazil,
to explore the botany of that country. As in the case
of Drummond, Sir William Hooker undertook to
procure a number of subscribers for the dried speci-
mens, and to be at the trouble of subdividing and
forwarding them to the respective parties; the curator,
at the same time, agreeing to take a similar charge
of the seeds and living plants sent home. Many of

tlie public botanical gardens, as well as a number of
amateur noblemen and gentlemen, were subscribers,
and by this means for a moderate sum had their
collections largely and richly increased. Amongst
others the Duke of Bedford was a munificent contri-
butor; and all ]ireliminaries having been arranged for
CJardner's dejiarture, his grace not only interested
his son Lord Edward Russell, R.N., commanding
on the American station, in his behalf, but secured
for him a free passage out in one of H.M. ships.
This, however, he jiolitely declined, preferring the
greater privacy of a merchant 'A\\\>, that he might have
leisure to study, and especially to imjirove himself in
his knowledge of the Spanish and Portuguese lan-
guages. So far from being offended, the duke mag-
nanimously sent him a draft for ;^50 in lieu of the
free passage.

In the summer of 1S36 Gardner sailed from Liver-
pool, and, after a favourable passage, arrived at Rio
de Janeiro, with the appearance of which and the
surrounding scenery he was perfectly captivated, and
wrote home in glowing terms, descriptive of his first
impressions. Amidst scenes so tempting to a natu-
ralist Gardner did not long remain inactive. He
made frequent excursions in the vicinity of Rio, and
particularly to the Organ Mountains, and his first
collection of plants, seeds, and specimens for the
herbarium was drawn chiefly from this quarter.
These came home in excellent condition and proved
highly interesting. They contained many new or-
chids, liliaere, palms, &c. He subsequently pene-
trated into the interior, and spent a considerable
time in exploring the diamond regions. Five years
— from 1836 till 1 841 — were passed in Brazil. Be-
fore returning home, which he did in the latter year,
he paid a parting visit to the Organ Mountains, his
object in doing so being, as he himself says in one
of his letters, to "make a collection of some of the
fine shrubs and herbaceous plants which are to be
found principally on the higher levels" of that
range, to take home with him in the living state.
After penetrating into the interior, he found the diffi-
culty of sending home living plants almost insur-
mountable; yet he continued to preserve large col-
lections for the herbarium, which with seeds and
such living plants as could endure the inland journey
prior to their long voyage, were sent home as oppor-
tunity offered. Some of the melastomaceoe, as
Fleroma benthamianum and mitltijJora may be men-
tioned among the number as now ornamenting every
good collection of hot-house plants; also, many
beautiful franciscas, &c.

Although botany was, of course, his chief pursuit,
Gardner had always an eye to what might be of in-
terest in other departments of natural history — hence
his collections were swelled with minerals, recent
and fossil shells, preserved skins of birds, fishes, &c.
He at the same time did not neglect his medical ac-
quirements. Throughout his extended journeyings,
he carried his surgical instruments along with him,
and performed several important operations with en-
tire success, which not only improved his finances,
but gained him many friends — thus securing a degree
of respect, comfort, and in some cases safety, among
the native tribes, which only a medical man might
expect to enjoy. Amidst his multifarious labours
he kept up his home correspondence with surprising
regularity, writing often to Sir William Hooker and
Mr. Murray, and occasionally communicating with
the more distinguished foreign botanists of the day.
Several of his papers and letters were inserted by
Sir William in the yournal of Botany. In one of
these, dated Province of Minas, September 3, 1840,
he refers to the death of his "generous patron, the

GEORGE GARDNER

Duke of Bedford," in terms which bespeak the deep
gratitude by which he was actuated. Nor did he
overlook the claims of his own relations to a share
in his epistolary attention; and even his juvenile
friends, such as Dr. Joseph Hooker, and Mr.
IMurray's family, were not forgotten.

In 1842, not long after his return, Gardner was
elected professor of botany in the Andersonian Uni-
versity, and had prepared a course of lectures; but
he did not retain that appointment, seeing, at the
tmie, little prospect of the class being well attended.
Meanwhile he occupied himself in arranging the
materials of his Brazilian yottrnal with a view to
publication. The work, however, was still incom-
plete, when, in 1843, '^^ '^^'^s appointed to Ceylon,
as island botanist and superintendent of the botanic
garden there, by the colonial government. This
situation he owed to the influence of his never-failing
friend Sir William Hooker, who had himself been,
some time previously, promoted to the office of
director-general qf the Royal Gardens at Kew.

On arriving in Ceylon his first consideration was
bestowed on the botanic garden, which he repaired,
re-arranged, and greatly improved. He then began
to make botanical excursions over the island, thus
enriching the garden with the fruits of his journeys.
He also transmitted to the botanic gardens in Britain,
especially Kew, such plants and seeds as were likely
to prove acceptable, obtaining in return the produc-
tions of other climes — South America, the West
Indies, &c., for the Ceylon garden. During his
rambles he discovered the upas tree, which was not
previously known to exist in Ceylon. A writer in
one of the Ceylon papers, whose article was copied
into Chambers's Joicrnal, says: — "When returning
to Kornegalle we were most fortunate in the plea-
sure of having for a companion Dr. Gardner, the
eminent botanist, in whose company the most insig-
nificant plant or flower has an interest, in relation
to which he has always something instructive to tell.
On our journey back to Kandy, he discovered the
upas tree, growing within a few miles of Kornegalle.
It was not known before that it grows in Ceylon. "

Gardner's position and eminence as a botanist
led him into an extensive correspondence, notwith-
standing which, and his multifarious official duties,
he so regulated his labours as to be able, not long
after his arrival in Ceylon, to finish the arrangement
of his Brazilian papers, which were published in
London, by Reeves Brothers, in 1846. The work,
562 pp. 8vo, is entitled Travels in the Interior of
Brazil, principally through the Northern Provinces
and the Gold Districts, during the Years 1836-41."
It was very favourably received, being sufficiently
popular in its style to interest the general reader,
whilst it did not disappoint the expectations of the
man of science.

Lord Torrington, governor of Ceylon, proved a
kind friend and patron to Gardner, thereby enabling
him greatly to extend his botanical labours ; so also
did Sir James Emmerson Tennent, the secretary.
Both of these honoured names are often mentioned
with grateful feelings in his letters. It was at Xeuria
Elba Rest-house, the residence of Lord Torrington,
that his demise took place. He arrived there on the
loth of March, 1849, about 3 o'clock p.m., and,
after luncheon with Lord and Lady Torrington,
retired to rest in his room, his lordship and Dr.
Fleming riding out meanwhile. Next day the party
was to have gone on an excursion to the Horton
Plains. Lord Torrington and the doctor had not
proceeded far when they were recalled by express,
Gardner having been attacked by a severe fit of
apoplexy. Everything was done which medical

WILLIAM GED.

t;9

science could suggest, but all to no purpose; he
died at 1 1 o'clock at night, surrounded by a circle
of deeply grieved friends. He was in the prime
of life, and, as remarked at luncheon by Lady Tor-
rington, never seemed in better health and s]iirits.
He had been remarkable throughout life for abstin-
ence. Even during three years of constant travel-
ling, irregularity, and fatigue, while exploring the
interior of Brazil, he drank nothing stronger than
tea, of which he had secured a good supply before
leaving Pernambuco.

Lord Torrington, in communicating the affiicling
intelligence to Sir William Hooker, thus warmly
eulogizes the character of the deceased: "I can
honestly say that the colony, and the public in gene-
ral, have experienced a severe loss in this talented
and excellent man — one who was loved by all ;
never did I see so amiable a person, one who pos-
sessed more benevolence, or was more ready to im-
part information to those who asked for it."

Thus the science of botany \\as deprived of an
enthusiastic student, and able expositor, in the prime
of life and the vigour of intellect. It is believed by
those who best knew him, that his end was hastened
by excessive mental labour. Amongst his numerous
MSS. is one in a finished state, which he was about
to send to press, designed as an elementaiy work on
the botany of India; and, as stated by Sir W. Hooker,
in noticing his death in the ycurnal of Botany, he
had made extensive collections towards a complete
Flora Zeylanica. As a matter of general interest,
it is not unworthy of notice that Gardner had taken
out a patent for preparing coffee leaf, so as to afford
a beverage, by infusion, "forming an agreeable,
refreshing, and nutritive article of diet."

According to Gardner's will, his books and her-
barium were to be offered to the Ceylon government,
to form part of the establishment at Peradinia, at
a certain valuation; and, if not accepted, to be for-
warded to his executor in Britain, Sir W. Hooker.
The government having declined the offer, they were
accordingly placed at the disposal of Sir William,
by whose disinterested efforts the herbarium realized
prices much beyond what could have been expected.

GED, William, the inventor of stereotype print-
ing, was a goldsmith in Edinburgh, in the early part
of the eighteenth century. He is said to have first
attempted stereotyping in the year 1725. The in-
vention, as may be generally known, consists in cast-
ing, by means of a stucco mould, a representation
of the superficies of arranged types, which, being
fitted to a block, may be used under the press exactly
as types are used, and, being retained, may serve at
any time to throw off an additional impression. As
the metal required for this process is very little com-
pared to that of types, stereotpying is accomplished
at an expense, which, though it might come hard
upon ordinary jobs, is inconsiderable in others,
where it may be the means of saving a new com-
position of types for subsequent impressions. In
the case of a book in general use, such as the Bible,
and also in cases where the pubHcation takes place
in numbers, and one number is in danger of being
sold to a greater extent than another, the process
suggested by Ged is of vast utility.^ In July, 1729,

1 A use which certainly the inventor never contemplated has
been found for this valuable handmaid to the printing art, in
facilitating the rapid production of works of verj' large circula-
tion. Some weekly periodicals of the present (1854; day, are
only able to produce the enormous numbers required of them
by casting several sets of stereotype plates, and employing
various printing machines on the same sheet at the same time.
By this means periodicals having acirculation even of half a mil-
lion weekly are enabled to be issued with the utmost regularity.

QO

ALEXANDER GEDDES.

Mr. Ged entered into a partnership with William
Fenner, a London stationer, and, for the purpose
of carrying his invention into practice, allowed Fen-
ner half the profits, in consideration of his advancing
the necessary funds. After\vards Mr. John James,
an architect, was taken into the scheme for the same
purpose, as was likewise Mr. Thomas James, a
letter-founder, and Mr. James Ged, tlie inventor's
son. In 1730 the association applied to the univer-
sity of Cambridge for printing Bibles and Common-
prayer Books, by stereotype, and, in consequence,
the lease was sealed to them, April 23, 1731. In
their attempt they sank a large sum of money, and
finished only two prayer-books, so that it was forced
to be relinquished, and the lease was given up in
1738. Ged imputed his disappointment to the
villany of the pressmen, and the ill treatment of his
partners, particularly Fenner, whom John James
and he were advised to prosecute, but declined. In
1733 this ingenious man returned with blighted
prospects to Edinburgh. Afterwards, however, by
the advice of his friends, he gave to the world a
specimen of his invention, in an edition of Salhist,
finished, it is said, in 1736, but not published till
1744, as the following imprint on the title-page testi-
fies : — Edinbiirgi, Guliebniis Ged, Aurifaber, Edin-
ensis, non typis mobilibiis, ut vulgo fieri solet, sed tab-
ellis sen laminis fusis, excudebat, MDCCXLIV. James
Ged, his son and former partner, engaged in the
insurrection of 1745 as a captain in the Duke of
Perth's regiment, and being taken at Carlisle was
condemned, but, on his father's account, by Dr.
Smith's interest with the Duke of Newcastle, was
released in 1745. He afterwards went to Jamaica,
where he settled, and where his brother William was
already established as a printer. William Ged, the
inventor of an art which has been of incalculable
advantage to mankind, experienced what has been
the fate of too many ingenious and useful men; he
died, October 19, 1749, in very indifferent circum-
stances, after his utensils had been shipped at Leith
for London, where he intended to renew partnership
with his son James. The Misses Ged, his daughters,
lived many years after in Edinburgh, where they
kept a school for young ladies, and were much
patronized by the Jacobite gentry.^ Another mem-
ber of the family, by name Dougal, was a captain in
the town-guard, or military police, of Edinburgh, in
the days of Fergusson the poet.

GEDDES, Alexander, celebrated as a poet, a
critic, and miscellaneous writer, was born at Arra-
dowl, in the parish of Ruthven, Banffshire, in the
year 1737. Ilis father, Ale.xander Geddes, rented a
small farm on the Arradowl estate, and, in common
with that class of people in Scotland at that time,
was in very poor circumstances. His mother was of
the Mitchells of Dellachy, in the neighbouring parish
of Bellay, and both were of the Roman Catholic
persuasion. The parents being anxious to procure
for their son the benefits of learning, he was, with a
view to the service of the church, at a very tender
age, put to learn his letters under a woman who kept
a school in the village, of the name of Sellar. Here
he learned to read the English Bible, which seems
to have been the only book his parents possessed,
and which, contrary to the general practice of people
of their communion, they encouraged him "to read

1 Among the curiosities preserved in Fingask Castle, Perth-
shire, the seat of Sir Peter Murray Threipland, Bart., is a
page of the stereotypes of Ged's Sallnst, which had probably
been obtained from the inventor or his family by Sir .Stewart
Threipland, who was a distinguished partisan of the family of
Stuart.

with reverence and attention." In perusing this book
young Geddes took a singular delight, and by the
time he was eleven years of age had got the historical
parts of it nearly by heart. At this period the laird
of Arradowl having engaged a tutor of the name of
Shearer, from Aberdeen, for his two sons, was look-
ing about him for three boys of promising parts,
whom he might educate gratuitously along with them,
and who might aftenvards be devoted to the service
of the church. Voung Geddes, already celebrated
for his talents and for his love of study, immediately
attracted his notice, and, along with a cousin of his
own, John Geddes, who afterwards became titular
Bishop of Dunkeld, and another boy, was taken into
the house of Arradowl, where he enjoyed all the
advantages peculiar to the laird's superior situation
in life, and we may reasonably suppose, though we
have not seen it noticed, that his improvement was
correspondent to his privilege. From the hospitable
mansion of Arradowl he was, by the influence of the
laird himself, admitted into the Catholic free semi-
naiy of Sculan, a seminary intended solely for young
men who were to be afterwards sent abroad to re-
ceive holy orders in sofne of the foreign universities.
No situation was ever better chosen for the educating
of monks than Sculan, standing in a dismal glen,
overhung with mountains on all sides, so high as to
preclude the sun from being seen for many months
in the year. "Pray, be so kind," said Geddes,
writing from that drearj' spot to one of his fellow-
students, who had obtained leave to visit his friends,
" as to make particular inquiries after the health of
the sun. Fail not to present my compliments to
him, and tell him I still hope I shall one day be able
to renew the honour of personal acquaintance with
him." Flere, to a knowledge of the vulgar English
Bible, he added a knowledge of the vulgar Latin
one, which appears to have been all the benefit he
received by a seven years' seclusion from the sun,
and from the world which he illuminated. Having
attained the age of twenty-one he was removed to
the Scots College at Paris, where he completed his
knowledge of the Latin language, to which he added
Hebrew, Greek, Italian, French, Spanish, German,
and Low Dutch. Theology and biblical criticism
were the principal objects of his attention, for he had
already formed the design of making a new transla-
tion of the Bible for the use of his Catholic country-
men, to the accomplishing of which all his studies
seem to have been directed from a very early period
of his life. When he had completed his course in
the Scots College at Paris, he was solicited to take a
share of the public labours of the college, and to fix,
of course, his residence in that gay metropolis. This,
however, after some hesitation, he declined, and,
after an absence of six years, returned to his native
country in the year 1764. Having entered into
orders, Geddes, on his arrival in Scotland, was by
his ecclesiastic superior ordered to reside at Dun-
dee, as officiating priest to the Catholics of Angus.
This situation he did not long fill, being invited by
the Earl of Traquair to reside in his family at Tra-
quair House, whither he repaired in the month of
May, 1765.

Here Mr. Geddes was situated as happily as his
heart could have wished; he had plenty of time, with
the use of an excellent library, and he seems to have
prosecuted his favourite study with great diligence.
He had been in this happy situation, however, little
more than a year, when the openly-displayed affec-
tion of a female inmate of the house, a relation of the
earl, rendered it necessary for him, having taken the
vow of perpetual celibacy, to take an abrupt de-
parture from the Arcadian scenerj' of the Tweed.

ALEXANDER GEDDES.

91

Leaving with the innocent autlior of his misfortune
a beautiful httle poem, entitled The Confessional, he
again bade adieu to his native land, and in the varie-
ties and volatilities of Paris endeavoured to forget
his pain. Even in this condition, however, he did
not lose sight of his great object, as during the time
he remained in Paris he made a number of valuable
extracts from books and manuscripts which he con-
sulted in the public libraries.

Paris never was a place much to his mind, and it
was less so now than ever, when it presented him
with no definite object of pursuit. He therefore
returned to Scotland in the spring of the year 1769.
He had by this time recovered, in some degree,
possession of himself; but he dared not encounter
the fascination of the beloved object, or re-engage
in the domestic scenes from which he had found it
necessary to flee. Turning, therefore, to the scenes
of his early life, he was offered the charge of a
Catholic congregation at Auchinhalrig, in the county
of Banff, which he accepted. The members of this
little community were poor, their chapel was in
ruins, and the most inveterate rancour subsisted
among themselves, and between them and their Pro-
testant neighbours. Mr. Geddes, however, was not
to be appalled by the prospect of difficulties, how-
ever numerous and formidable. His first object was
to pull down the old chapel, and to build a new one
on the spot. His own house, too, which his bio-
grapher dignifies with the name of a parsonage-
house, he found necessary to repair almost from the
foundation, and he added to it the luxury of an ex-
cellent garden, from which he was able, on many
occasions, to supply the necessities of his people.
In these proceedings Mr. Geddes was not only
useful in directing and overseeing the workmen, but
as a workman himself, many of the most important
operations being performed with his own hands.
Plaving thus provided for the assembling of his con-
gregation, his next object was to coiTect that extreme
bigotry by which they were characterized. For this
end he laboured to gain their affections by the most
punctilious attention to every part of his pastoral
duty, and by the mjost unbounded charity and bene-
volence. The ceremonies of Popery he despised as
heartily as any Presbyterian. The Scriptures he
earnestly recommended to his people, and exhorted
them to think for themselves, and to allow the same
privilege to others. Many of the peculiarities of
Popery, indeed, he denounced as most iniquitous,
and utterly repugnant to the spirit of genuine catho-
licity. In his judgment of others Geddes himself
showed the utmost liberality; and he even ventured
to appear as a worshipper in the church of a neigh-
bouring parish on different occasions. By these
means, if he did not convert to his views the Papists
of Auchinalrig, which we believe he did not, he ac-
quired a vei-y high character to himself, and formed
many valuable friendships among men of all descrip-
tions. Than this conduct nothing could be better
fitted to attain the object which the Papists were by
this time very generally beginning to entertain — that
of obtaining political power and influence; and in
this respect Geddes, by dereliction of principle, did
more for their cause than all other men beside: yet
their zeal could not be restrained, even for this most
obvious purpose, and he had the mortification to
find that he was provoking very generally the resent-
ment of his clerical brethren. His diocesan bishop.
Hay, threatened him with suspension if he did not
behave with greater circumspection, particularly in
regard to the dangerous and contaminating influence
of heretical intercourse; but having no supreme court
before which to bring the refractory and rebellious

priest, the bishop was under the necessity of letting
the controversy drop. Unfortunately the poor priest
had become personally bound for considerable sums
expended in building the chapel and repairing the
manse, for the payment of which he had tnisted to
the liberality of his people. There was no appear-
ance of his expectations being realized, and his
creditors — a class of people whom he could not so
easily set at defiance as the bishoj) — becoming cla-
morous, a "charge of homing" was likely to suspend
him more eff"ectually than the order of his diocesan,
when, through the friendship of the Earl of Traquair,
he was introduced to the notice of the Duke of Nor-
folk, who, having learned the extent of the obliga-
tions he had come under in his pastoral capacity,
claimed the privilege of discharging them as an
earnest of future friendship. Geddes was thus re-
lieved from serious embarrassments, but his income
was far too scanty to supply his necessities, .though
they were by no means so numerous as those of many
others in his situation. In order to provide for him-
self without burdening his congregation, he took a
small farm at Enzie in Fochabers, in the vicinity of
Auchinalrig, which he stocked by means of a loan,
built a little chapel upon it, where he proposed to
officiate as well as at Auchinalrig, and in imagina-
tion saw himself already happy and independent.
There have been men of letters who have been at
the same time men of business. They have been,
however, but few; and Geddes was not of the num-
ber. It was in the year 1775 that he commenced
his agrictdtural speculations, and by the year 177^
he found himself in a still deeper state of embarrass-
ment than w-hen he had been relieved by the Duke
of Norfolk. The expedient he adopted on this occa-
sion, was one that was much more likely to have
added to his embarrassments than to have relieved
them. He published at London ^^ Select Satires of
Horace, translated into English verse, and for the
most part adapted to the present times and manners."
This publication, contrary to all human probability,
succeeded so well that it brought him a clear profit
of upwards of ;!f 100, which, with some friendly aid
from other quarters, set him once more clear of
pecuniary embarrassments. The remark of one of
his biographers on this circumstance ought not to
be suppressed: — "To be brought to the brink of
ruin by farming and kirk-building, and to be .saved
from it by turning poetaster, must be allowed to be
rather out of the usual course of events. "

Finding that his pen was of more service to him
than his plough, Mr. Geddes now seriously thought
of quitting his retirement, and trj'ing his fortune in
London. He was, however, so strongly attached
to his flock, that it might have been long before he
put his design into execution, had not a circumstance
occurred to give it new vigour. Lord Findlater
had about this time married a daughter of Count
IMurray of Mlegnm, who, being educated abroad,
was unacquainted with English. Mr. Geddes was
employed by his lordship to teach her that language.
In the house of his lordship he was introduced to
the Rev. Mr. Buchanan, who had been tutor to his
lordship, and was now minister of the parish of
Cullen, with whom he formed a most intirnate
acquaintance, and did not scniple to attend occasion-
ally upon his ministry in the church of Cullen. This
latter circumstance rekindled the long-smothered
ire of Bishop Hay, who sent him an angry remon-
strance, which he followed up by suspending him
from all his ecclesiastical functions. This at once
dissolved the tie between Mr. Geddes and his con-
gregation, from whom, in the end of the year 1779.
he took an affectionate leave; and selling off what

92

ALEXANDER GEDDES.

property he possessed at Enzie by public roup,
prepared, without regret, to leave once more his
native country. His people testified their affection
for him by buying up, with extraordinary avidity,
everything that belonged to him, even to the articles
of broken cups and saucers. Nor were his Pro-
testant friends wanting to him on this occasion.
Through their joint intluence the university of Aber-
deen stepped forward with praiseworthy liberality,
and conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Laws.
Leaving Enzie Dr. Geddes devoted a few weeks
to visits of friendship, and in company with Lord
Traquair repaired to London in the beginning of
the year 17S0. Through the intluence of Lord
Traquair he was almost immediately nominated to
be othciating priest in the chapel of the imperial
ambassador. The literary fame he had already ac-
quired by his imitations of Horace, and the letters
with which he was honoured by his friends in the
north, introduced him at once to the most celebrated
literary characters of the day, which gave great
elasticity to his naturally buoyant spirits. Several
libraries, too, both public and private, being thrown
open to him, he resumed with redoubled ardour his
early project of translating the Bible for the use
of his Roman Catholic countrymen. Through the
Duchess of Gordon he was also introduced to Lord
Petre, who was like himself a Catholic, and was
anxious to have a translation of the Bible such as
Dr. Geddes proposed to make. To enable him to
go on without any interruption, his lordship gener-
ously allowed him a salary of ;i^200 a year till the
work should be finished, besides being at the expense
of whatever private library he might find necessary
for his purpose. This was encouragement not only
beyond what he could reasonably have hoped for,
but equal to all that he could have wished; and the
same year he published a sketch of his plan, under
the title of A>i Idea of a A'eio I'ersion of the Holy
Bible, for the Use of the English Catholics. This
Idea in general, for we have not room to be parti-
cular, was "a new and faithful translation of the
Bible, from corrected te.xts of the original, unaccom-
panied with any gloss, commentary, or annotations,
ijut such as are necessary to ascertain the literal
meaning of the text, and free of every sort of inter-
pretation calculated to establish or defend any par-
ticular system of religious credence." At the close
of this year he ceased to officiate in the imperial
ambassador's chapel, the establishment being sup-
pressed by an order from the emperor Joseph IL
He continued to preach, however, occasionally at
the chapel in Duke Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, till
the Easter holidays of 1782, when he found his time
so completely taken up by his literary projects,
especially his translation, that he voluntarily with-
drew from every stated ministerial function. The
following year Dr. Geddes paid a visit to Scotland,
during which he wrote Linton, a Tweeddale Pastoral,
in Honour of the Birth of a Son and Heir to the
jVoble House of Traquair. He passed with the earl
and his countess on a tour to the south of France,
came back with them to Scotland, and shortly after
returned to London. He was about this time intro-
duced to Dr. Kennicot, by whom he was introduced
to Dr. Lowth, and both of them took a deep interest
in his undertaking. At the suggestion of the latter
Dr. Geddes wrote a new prospectus, detailing more
fully and explicitly the ]>lan he meant to follow.
This was given to the public in 17S6 : it had a very
general circulation, and was well received. In the
year 1785 he was elected a corresponding member
by the Society of Scottish Antiquaries — an honour
which he acknowledged in a poetical epistle to that

respectable body. This epistle is printed in the
first volume of the Transactions of the society, as
also a dissertation on the Scoto-Saxon dialect, with
the first eclogue of Virgil, and the first idyllium of
Theocritus, translated into Scottish verse.

He was now advancing with his translation ; but
in the year 1787 he published an appendix to his
prospectus, in the form of a Letter addressed to the
Bishop of London, containing Queries, Doubts, and
Difficulties relative to a Vernacular Version of the
Holy Scriptures. He published the same year a letter
to Dr. Priestly, in which he attempted to prove, by
one prescriptive argument, that the divinity of Jesus
Christ was a primitive tenet of Christianity. About
the same time he published his letter on the case of
the Protestant Dissenters. In the year 1788 he en-
gaged as a contributor to the Analytical Peviezv, for
which he continued to furnish many valuable articles
during the succeeding five years and a half It was
during the year just mentioned that he issued Pro-
posals for Printing by Subscription a A'e7U T'ansla-
tion of the Holy Bible, &c. His General Anszuer to
the Counsels and Criticisms that have been communi-
cated to hitn since the Publication of his Proposals for
Printing a A'ew Translation of the Bible, appeared
in the year 1790. Of the same date was his Ans-u'cr
to the Bishop of Comands Pastoral Letter, by a Pro-
testing Catholic, followed by A Letter to the R.R. the
Archbishop and Bishops of England, &c., Carmen
Seculare p7-o Gallica, &c., and an Epistola Macaronica
ad Fratrem, &c. In the year 1791 he was afllicted
with a dangerous fever, and on his recover}- accepted
of an invitation to visit Lord Petre at his seat at
Norfolk. This journey produced A Norfolk Tale,
or a Journey from London to A'oi-icnch, with a Pro-
logue and an Epilogue published in the following
year. The same year he published An Apology for
Shwery, a poem entitled HAvocat du Diablc, &c.,
and The First Book of the Iliad of Homer, verbally
rendered into English Verse, &c. Amidst these
multifarious avocations he was still proceeding with
his translation, and in the year 1792, though his
subscription list was far from being filled up, he
published The First Volume of the Holy Bible, or
the Books accounted Sacred by Jcd'S and Christians,
oiht~r%vise called the Books of the Old and A'ew Co-ve-
nants, faithfully Translated from Corrected Texts of
the Originals, iL<ith various Readings, Explanatory
A'otes, and Critical Remarks.

Dr. Geddes had by this time engaged a house for
himself in Alsop's Buildings, New Road, Maiy-le-
Bone, which he had fitted up with his own hands
in a curious and convenient style. He had also a
garden both before and behind his house, which he
cultivated with the industry of a day labourer, and
with the zeal of a botanizing philosopher ; he had
"a biblical apparatus [a library] through the princely
munificence of Lord Petre," superior to most indi-
viduals, and he wanted only the incense of the
world's applause to this idol of a translation, which
he had set up to outrage alike the faith of Jews and
Christians, to make his triumph perfect and his hap-
piness complete. The vain man had, by his Idea,
his Prospectus, his Appendix, and his Answer to
Counsels and Queries, secured, as he supposed, the
concurrence of mankind, while he had in fact only
excited expectations which, though his talents had
been increased an hundred-fold, he would have
found himself unable to satisfy. ^Vhat must behave
felt or thought when he found that the book, instead
of pleasing all the world, as he had vainly hoped,
pleased nobody. Christians of every description
considered it an insidious attack upon the founda-
tions of their faith, and the Catholics, for whose

ALEXANDER GEDDES.

93

benefit it was stated to have been mainly intended,
were by a pastoral letter from their vicars apostolic
forbidden to read it. Geddes, in an address to the
public the followintj year, defended himself with
great boldness, laying claim, like every other infidel,
to the most fearless honesty and the strictest impar-
tiality. The failure of his hopes, however, affected
him so deeply that his biblical studies were for a
time nearly suspentled, and it required all the atten-
tions of his friends to prevent him from sinking into
the deepest despondency. In the meantime he
soothed, or attempted to soothe, his chagrin by
writing two Latin odes in praise of the French re-
volution, but which, on the representations of his
friends, he allowed to lie unpublished till the period
of the peace in the year iSoi. Lie also wrote and
published at this time a translation of Cresset's Ver
IWi, or tlie Parrot of iVez'crs, which did him no
honour, the poem having been only a short while
before translated more happily by John Gilbert
Couper. In the year 1795 he published an Ode
to the Honourable Thomas Pelham, occasioned by his
speech on the Catholic question in the Irish House
of Commons, which was followed, in 1796, by a
Hudibrastic paraphrase of a sermon which had been
preached by a Ur. Coulthurst on the anniversary
of his majesty's accession, before the university of
Cambridge. In 1797 he published The Battle of
B—ng — r, or the Churches Triumph: a Comic Heroic
Poem in Aliie Cantoes. The subject of this poem
was suggested by the notable contest between Bishop
Warren and Mr. Grindly, and it is unquestionably
the most finished of all his English poems. The
same year he published the second volume of his
translation of the Bible, which brought it to the end
of the Book of Ruth, beyond which it was not
destined to advance in its regidar form.

During the two succeeding years he published two
burlesque sermons, ridiculing the fast-day sermons of
the Established clergy, and in the year 1800 his
Critical Retnarks on the Hebreia Scriptures, corres-
ponding with a new translation of the Bible, vol. i.,
containing remarks on the Pentateuch. If there
had been any doubt on the public mind respecting
the principles of Dr. Geddes, this volume must have
removed it. These remarks are less scurrilous per-
haps, but not less impious, than those of Thomas
Paine, and professing to be the result of laborious
learning, sound philosophy, and a most enlarged and
enlightened Christianity, are to weak minds much
more dangerous, and to the well-informed more offen-
sively disgusting than even the ihppancies of that
celebrated unbeliever. They had not, however, the
merit of meeting the general ideas of mankind, and
we believe are already nearly forgotten. The en-
couragement with which he commenced his publica-
tion was greatly inadequate to meet the expense;
and this encouragement, instead of increasing, had
greatly fallen off; the work being printed too solely
at his own expense, he soon found himself involved
in pecuniary difficulties, from which he had not the
means of extricating himself. Never had a reckless
man, however, such a singularly good fortune. We
have already seen him twice rescued from ruin in a
way, on both occasions, which no one less fortunate
than himself could have hoped for, and on this occa-
sion his situation was no sooner disclosed than a plan
was devised for his relief, and executed almost with-
out his knowledge. "It is to the credit of the age
in which we live," says his biographer, "that, with-
out any further application on his own part, persons
of every rank and religious persuasion, Protestants
and Catholics, clergy and laity, nobility and gentry,
several of whom had never known him but by name,

and many of whom had professed a dislike of his
favourite tenets, united in one charitable effort to
rescue him from anxiety and distress; nor should it
be forgotten that some part at least of the amount
subscribed proceeded from the right reverend bench
itself. The sum thus collected and expended for
him from the year 1798 to the middle of the year
1800, independent of his annuity from Lord Petre,
amounted to /"900 sterling. Nor was this all: mea-
sures were taken at the same time to prevent any
such disagreeable occurrence in future. In the buoy-
ancy of spirit which this great deliverance excited,
he published a modest apology for the Catholics of
Great Britain, addressed to all moderate Protestants,
particularly to the members of both houses of parlia-
ment. This work was published anonymously; but
it had been written twenty years before, and from
the style and the whispers of his friends, was soon
known to be his. It was translated into the French
and German languages, and, considered as the work
of a man who professed himself to be a Catholic, is
certainly a most singular performance. It was about
this time the famous rencounter between William
Gifford, author of the Baviad, and Dr. Wolcott,
better known by the name of Peter Pindar, took
place in the shop of Mr. Wright, bookseller in Picca-
dilly, on which Dr. Geddes published Bardomachia,
or the Battle of the Bards. This he was at the trouble
of composing first in Latin, and afterwards translat-
ing into English, so that it was published in both lan-
guages. In the following year, 1801, Dr. Geddes
sustained an irreparable loss in the death of his noble
patron. Lord Petre. His lordship died of an attack
of the gout in July, 1801, in the sixty-eighth year of
his age. By his latter will he bequeathed to Dr.
Geddes an annuity of ;i{^loo; and his son, the heir of
his virtues as well as of his honours, when he inti-
mated the circumstance to the doctor, politely pro-
posed to add a yearly salary of the same amount.
Nor ought it to be suppressed on this occasion that
Mr. Timothy Brown of Chiswell Street, before Dr.
Geddes was apprised of Lord Petre's generous inten-
tions, had engaged that the £'2.00 a year which he
was likely to lose by the death of his patron should
be supplied by the voluntary contributions of those
friends who had so generously come forward on the
late occasion, or in case of their declining it, by an
equal salaiy to be annually paid by himself. Though
he was thus no loser in a pecuniary point of view,
he felt the void hereby produced in his happiness,
and almost in his existence, to be irreparable; and it
was long before his mind recovered so much calmness
as to reason on the subject, or to admit the sympathies
of surviving friends. His grief, however, began to
assume a milder character, and he attempted to
soothe his feelings by composing for his departed
friend a Latin elegy, and he gave successive proofs
that the embers of his habitual hilarity still glowed
with a few vital sparks. He did not, however, feel
himself at any period sufficiently collected for a
regular prosecution of his favourite undertaking.
At the pressing request of his friends, he began to
prepare for the press the Psalms, to be printed in a
separate volume. With the translation he did not
get further than the one hundred and eighteenth. A
trifling ode on the restoration of peace, written in
Latin, was one of his amusements at this time, and
a Latin elegy on the death of CJilbert Wakefield was
the last of his compositions. Mr. Wakefield died in
the month of September, iSoi, when Dr. Geddes
was already deeply affected with the painful disease
that carried him off early in the following spring.
Through the whole of the winter his sufferings must
often have been extreme, though he had intervals in

94

ALEXANDER GEDDES

MICHAEL GEDDES.

which he was comparatively easy. lie died sud-
denly on the 20th of February, 1S02, in the sixty-fifth
year of his age.

As there has been a story told of Dr. Geddes
having recanted his opinions on his death-bed, it be-
comes an imperious duty to state the manner of his
death, as related by those who were about him at
the time. The rites of that communion to which he
professed to belong were, notwithstanding his avowed
contempt for the greater part of them, administered
to him by his friend M. .St. Martin, a doctor of the
Sorbonne and professor of divinity. The day before
his death Dr. Geddes was visited by this friend,
who was anxious to recall him from those aberrations
he had made from the faith, and for this purpose
had a list of questions drawn up, to which he meant
to insist upon having answers. The state into which
by this time the Doctor had fallen rendered this im-
practicable. Sensible that he was in great danger,
M. St. Martin endeavoured to rouse him from his
lethargy, and proposed to him to receive absolution.
Geddes observed that in that case it would be neces-
sary for him to make his confession. M. St. Martin,
aware that this was beyond his strength, replied that
in extremis this was not necessary, that he had only
to examine the state of his own mind, and to make a
sign when he was prepared. lie could not, how-
ever, avoid putting a question or two upon the more
important points upon which they differed. "You
fully," said he, "believe in the Scriptures?" Geddes,
rousing himself from his sleep, said, "Certainly."
"In the doctrine of the Trinity?" "Certainly, but
not in the manner you mean." "In the mediation
of Jesus Christ?" "No, no, no, — not as you mean;
in Jesus as our Saviour — but not in the atone-
ment." After a pause he said, " I consent to all "—
but of these words M. St. IVIartin did not compre-
hend the meaning. The Doctor shortly after gave
the sign that he was ready, and received from M.
St. Martin absolution in the way he had proposed.
It was the intention of M. St. Martin to have passed
the night with him, but calling in the evening, found
that the physician had forbidden any of his friends
to be admitted. A domestic, however, in a neigh-
bouring house, of the Catholic persuasion, who
knocked at the door during the night, just as he was
dying, was admitted, and, according to the rites of
her church, repeated over him the Creed, Paternoster,
and Ave Maria. Dr. Geddes opened his eyes as she
had concluded, gave her his benediction, and expired.

Perhaps there is not in the history of literary men
a character that calls more loudly for animadversion,
or that requires a more skilful hand to lay it open,
than that of Dr. Geddes. He professed a savage
sort of straightforward honesty, that was at war on
multiplied occasions with the common charities of
life; yet amid his numerous writings will any man
take it on him to collect what were really his ojnnions
upon the most important subjects of human contem-
plation? He professed himself a zealous Catholic ;
yet of all or nearly all that constitutes a Catholic he
has spoken with as much bitterness as it was possible
for any Protestant to have done. If it be objected
that he added to the adjective Catholic the noun
Christian, when he says that he admits nothing but
what has been taught by Christ, his apostles, ancl suc-
cessors in rjery age and i>i every place, we would ask
how much we are the wiser. He professed to believe
in Jesus Christ, and in the perfection of his code; but
he held Moses to have been a man to be compared
only with Numa and Lycurg\is; a man who like them
pretended to personal intercourse with the Deity,
from whom he never received any immediate com-
munication; a man who had the art to take advan-

tage of rarely occurring natural circumstances, and
to persuade the Israelites that they were accomplished
under his direction by the immediate power of God;
a man, in short, conspicuous above all men as a
juggling impostor. Now, to the divine mission of
Moses we have the direct testimony of Jesus Christ
himself, with the express assurance that without be-
lieving in Moses it was impossible to believe in him.
l>ut we cannot here follow out the subject, nor can
we enter into any particular analysis of his works,
to which the eccentricities of his character, the singu-
larity of his opinions, and the peculiar circumstances
of his life, gave for a time an interest to which they
were not at any time entitled. His translation of
the Bible, after all the professions he had made, the
means he had accumulated, and the expectations he
had excited, was a complete failure, and has only
added another demonstration to the thousands that
had preceded it, how much more easy it is to write
fluently and plausibly about great undertakings than
to perform them. We intended here to have noticed
more particularly his translation of the first book of
the Iliad of Homer, which he undertook for the
purpose of demonstrating his superiority to Cowper,
but upon second thoughts have forborne to disturb its
peaceful slumbers. Upon the whole, Dr. Geddes was
unquestionably a man of learning and of genius, but
from an unhappy temper, and the preponderating
influence of arrogance and vanity in his constitution,
they were of little avail to himself, and have not been
greatly useful to the general interests of mankind.

GEDDES, J.\MES, an advocate at the Scottish
bar, was born in the county of Tweeddale about the
year 17 10, and being the son of a gentleman in good
circumstances, was educated by tutors under his
father's roof. The progress which he made in the
learned languages and philosophy was considered
extraordinary; and he fulfilled every promise at the
university of Edinburgh, where he distinguished him-
self, particularly in mathematics, which he studied
under the celebrated Maclaurin. Having prepared
himself for the bar, he entered as an advocate, and
soon acquired considerable reputation. His labours
as a lawyer did not prevent him from devoting much
time to his favourite studies — the poets, philosophers,
and historians of antiquity; and in 1748 he published
at Glasgow his Essay on the Composition and Alaiincr
of Writing of the Ancients, particularly Plato. The
year after this publication he died of lingering con-
sumption, much regretted, both on account of his
learning — the fruits of which had not been fully
given to the world — and for his manners and disposi-
tion, which were in the highest degree amiable.

GEDDES, Michael, a distinguished divine of
the Church of England, and author of some admired
works, was educated at the university of Edinburgh,
where, in 1671, he took the degree of Master of Arts,
in which he was incorporated at Oxford, on the nth
of July, in the same year. He was one of the first
four natives of Scotland who were permitted to take
advantage of the exhibitions founded in Baliol Col-
lege, Oxford, by Bishop Warner, with the view of
promoting the interests of the Episcopal church in
Scotland. Geddes, however, did not return to pro-
pagate or enforce the doctrines of that body in his
native country. He went in 1678 to Lisbon as
chaplain to the English factor}', the exercise of which
function giving offence to the Inquisition, he was
sent for by that court in 1 686, and forbidden to con-
tinue it. This persecution obviously arose from the
attempts now making by King James at home to
establish Popery. The English merchants, resenting

WALTER GEIKIE.

95

the violation of their privileije, wrote on the 7t^^ of
September to the Bishop of London, representini^
their case, and their right to a chaplain, as established
by the commercial treaty between England and Por-
tugal; l)ut before this letter reached its destination,
the bishop was himself put into the same predica-
ment as Mr. Geddes, being suspended from his func-
tions by the ecclesiastical commission. Finding that
his case had become hopeless, Geddes returned to
England in May, l688, where he took the degree of
Doctor of Laws, and after the promotion of Uurnet
to the bishopric of Salisbury, was made by him
chancellor of his church.^ During his residence at
Lisbon he had amassed a great «[uantity of docu-
ments respecting Spanish and I'ortuguese history,
which enabled him, in 1694, to publish a volume,
styled The Church History of Malabar. Of this
work Archbishop Tillotson says, in a letter to Bishop
Burnet, dated June 2Sth, 1694, "j^ir- Geddes' book
finds a general acceptation and approbation. I
doubt not but he hath more of the same kind, with
which I hope he will favour the world in due time."
lie was accordingly encouraged in 1696 to publish
The Church History of Hithiopia, and in 1697 a
]-)amphlet entitled The Coiuicil of Trent Plainly
Discovered not to have been a Free Assembly. His
great work, however, was his Tracts on Divers Sub-
jects, which appeared in 1 7 14, in three volumes,
being a translation of the most interesting pieces
which he had collected at Lisbon, and of which a
list is given in Moreri's Grand Dictionnaire Histor-
ique, a.rt. "Geddes." The learned doctor must have
died previous to the succeeding year, as in 171 5
appeared a posthumous volume of tracts against the
Roman Catholic church, which completes the list
of his publications.

GEIKIE, Walter. It has often been observed
that the Scottish national character abounds in con-
tradictions. Poetical though it be, it has never pro-
duced a Milton ; and in spite of all its wisdom and
sagacity, it has not as yet exhibited a first-rate states-
man. The same inconsistency is perceptible in the
fine arts; so that, in spite of the imaginative and the
humorous, by which that character is distinguished,
Scotland has been barren of caricaturists. From
the time of Hogarth to that of H. B., England has
so plentifully abounded with such artists as to be
eminently the land of caricature delineation ; but
Scotland, with all its shrewd observation, its per-
ception of the ludicrous, and quiet love of fun, which
constitute the chief elements in this department of
pictorial art, has as yet produced no specimens of
it except those of poor Walter Geikie — the very
man, too, be it observed, from whom, on account
of his physical disqualifications, productions of this
kind were least to be expected.

Walter Geikie, whose droll and homely sketches
are to be found upon the table of every Edinburgh
drawing-room, was the son of Mr. Archibald Geikie,
perfumer, and was born in Charles Street, George
Square, Edinburgh, on the 9th November, 1795.
Before he had completed his second year he was
attacked by a dangerous ear disease ; and although
he recovered, it was at the expense of being deaf
and dumb for life. It was too much the fashion at
this time in Scotland to consider dumbies as incap-
able of education, so that they were generally allowed
to go at large, and vegetate as they best might; but
happily, Walter was the son of a pious and intelli-
gent father, who had a better sense of his paternal
responsibility: he taught his bereaved boy the alpha-

' Birch's Life of Tillotson, 334.

bet, so that the latter not only learned to read, but
to understand what he read. Writing and arithmetic
followed, in which Walter showed himself an apt
scholar. When he had thus acquired the rudiments
of education, it happened, fortunately for him, that
Mr. Braidwood, the successful teacher of the deaf
and dumb, was invited to Edinburgh, to open an
institution there, and Geikie became one of his
earliest pupils. In this new school the boy's pro-
ficiency was so rapid that he was soon employed as
a monitor. He showed also that he was no mere
commonplace learner, for he was in the practice of
writing down extracts of the passages that best
pleased him in the authors whose works he perused.
While he was thus storing his mind with knowledge,
and qualifying himself, notwithstanding his defects,
for a life of usefulness, his path was determined.
While yet a child, he had been in the practice of
cutting out representations of the objects that struck
him on paper ; aftenvards he had attempted to por-
tray them with chalk on floors and walls; and rising
higher still in pictorial art, he at length betook him-
self to the use of the pencil. He did not, however,
satisfy himself, like other young sketchcrs, with
merely copying the pictures of others : instead of
this, he would be satisfied with nothing short of the
original object; and therefore he often roamed about
the suburbs of Edinburgh, or among the fields, trans-
ferring into his note-book whatever most pleased
his fancy. This was the form of language in which
he found he could best express himself, and there-
fore it is not to be wondered at that he should culti-
vate it so carefully. At the age of fourteen he was
sent to learn drawing by regular rule, under Mr.
Patrick Gibson, and such was his progress, that in
1 81 2 he was admitted a pupil of the Academy of
Drawing, established for the encouragement of Scot-
tish manufactures, where he had for his preceptor
Mr. Graham, the teacher of Allan and Wilkie.

By this course of training the future profession of
Walter Geikie was confirmed. He was to be an
artist; and it remained to be seen in what department
his excellence was to consist. It was not certainly
in painting, for he soon discovered that his attempts
in oil were decidedly inferior to those of others in
warmth and harmony of colouring; and although his
Itinerant Fiddlers, All-Halloiu Fair, and the Grass-
market, now in the collection at Hopetoun House,
were the best specimens of his painting in oil, they
scarcely exceed the efforts of a mere fourth-rate artist.
It was in sketching that he best succeeded, while the
subjects of his preference were not the beautiful or
the sublime, but the homely and the ludicrous. He
would rather sketch a pig-sty than a palace, and an
odd face had more attraction in his eyes than all the
ideal beauty of the Venus de Medicis. It was upon
this predilection that he acted. He hunted about in
quest of singular visages, at which, with his ready
pencil, he would take a flying shot as he passed along
the street; and as such commodities are by no means
scarce in Edinburgh, his collection was soon both rich
and varied. This kind of sportsmanship, however,
was not without its dangers, for those who were best
fitted for the artist's purposes were generally the
least disposed to have their effigies pcqietuated.
One amusing incident of this kind is related by his
biographer. Geikie had become desperately en-
amoured of the turned-up nose, rhinoceros upper
lip, and pot-belly of a porter of the Grassmarket,
and longed to appropriate them in such a way as
not to impoverish their lawful owner. But the porter,
who had seen his hungry look, and suspected his
purpose, had continued to dodge him, until one day
he found himself all but fixed upon the artist's paper.

96

ALEXANDER GERARD.

Enraged at the discovery, he stormed, swore, and
threatened; but Geikie, who was in ecstasy with his
rich attitudes, and could not liear the tlireats, con-
tinued the drawing, until he saw his model rushing
upon him like a maddened bull in the arena. He
took to his heels, but was so hotly pursued that he
had to take refuge in a common stair; and the porter,
thinking that his tormentor was housed, resolved to
await his coming forth. Geikie, in the meantime,
who was watching every movement tlirough a dingy
window in the stair, contrived to finish his sketch,
and- crown it with the last touch. But how to get
out when his work was finished! This seemed beyond
the power of strategy, for there stood his merciless
enemy on the watch ; and there he remained for
hours. Some lucky cliance at last called away the
bearer of burdens, aud Geikie stole from his con-
cealment when he found the coast clear. He had
caught the porter, and saved his own bones. The
fastidious object of his sketch forms a conspicuous
figure in the group of the Street Auctioneer.

The mirthfid spirit of the artist, which drew him
so powerfully to congenial subjects, was not confined
to drawing; it found vent also in buoyant mimicry,
in which he could act the droll characters of his daily
search, as well as draw them. In this way, though
deprived of the power of utterance, he could deliver
jokes that set the company in a roar. It is gratifying
also to add, that with all this mirthfulness there was
a soundness of moral principle and depth of religious
feeling within him that aimed at nobler ends than
the harmless amusement of society. From infancy
he had received a religious education, and it was all
the more endeared to him, perhaps, from the diffi-
culty which he must have found in acquiring those
spiritual ideas of which he saw so few visible symbols.
Sacred and sincere, indeed, must be the devotion of
the deaf and dumb ! He was also eager to impart
what he had learned, and therefore with two friends
under the same bereavement as himself he estab-
lished a religious meeting of the deaf and dumb, to
whom, on the Sabbaths, he preached and expounded
by signs. After an uninterrupted course of good
health a short illness of a few days occurred, under
which Geikie died on the 1st of August, 1837. He
was buried in the Grayfriars' churchyard. Of his
productions it is unnecessary to enter into farther
analysis, as these, ninety-four in number, illustrative
of Scottish character and scenery, have been pub-
lished in one volume, and are familiarly known to
almost every class. They are also accompanied
with explanations, and a biographical introduction
by Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, from which the fore-
going facts have been chiefly derived.

GERARD, Alexander, D.D., an eminent divine
and writer, was the eldest son of the Reverend Gil-
bert Gerard, minister of the chapel of Garioch, a
parish in Aberdeenshire, where he was born on the
22d of P'ebruary, 1728. He was removed at the
period destined for the commencement of his educa-
tion to the parish of Foveran, in the same county,
the humble schoolmaster of which appears to have
possessed such superior classical attainments, that
the reverend gentleman felt justified in delivering his
son up to his care — a preference which the future
fame of that son, founded on his correctness of acqui-
sition and observation, must have given his friends
no cause to regret. At the age of ten, on the death
of his father, he was removed to the grammar-school
of Aberdeen, whence he emerged in two years, quali-
fied to enter as a student of Marischal College.
Having there performed his four years of academical
attendance in the elementary branches, he finished

his career with the usual ceremony of "the gradua-
tion," and appeared before the world in the capacity
of Master of Arts at the age of sixteen — not by any
means the earliest age at which that degree is fre-
quently granted, but certainly at a jjeriod sufficiently
early to entitle him to the character of precocious
genius. Immediately after finishing these branches
of education, he commenced in the divinity hall of
Aberdeen his theological studies, which he after-
wards finished in Edinburgh.

In 1748 he was a licensed preacher of the Church
of Scotland, and about two years thereafter Mr. D.
Fordyce, professor of natural philosophy in Marischal
College, having gone abroad, he lectured in his
stead; and on the regretted death of that gentleman
by shipwreck on the coast of Holland, just as he
was returning to his friends, Mr. Gerard was ap-
pointed to the vacant professorship. At the period
when Mr. Gerard was appointed to a chair in Mar-
ischal College, the philosophical curriculum, com-
mencing with logic, proceeded immediately to the
abstract subjects of ontology and pneumatics, the
course gradually decreasing in abstruseness with the
consideration of morals and politics, and terminating
with the more definite and practical doctrines of
natural philosophy. Through the whole of this
varied course it was the duty of one instructor to
lead his pupils, mathematics and Greek being alone
taught by separate professors. The evils of this
system suggested to the professors of Marischal Col-
lege the formation of a plan for the radical alteration
of the routine, which has since been most beneficially
conducive to the progress of Scottish literature. A
very curious and now rare pamphlet from the pen of
Dr. Gerard exists on this subject; it is entitled Plan
of Education in the Marischal College and University
of Aberdeen, ivith the Reasons of it, drazvn up by
Order of the Faculty, printed at Aberdeen in 1755 —
a little work of admirable perspicuity and sound
logical reasoning. The rationale of the ancient
system was founded on the presumption that, as it is
by the use of logic and the other metaphysical sciences
alone that we can arrange, digest, and reason upon
the facts which come under our observation, these
must be committed to the mind as rules of manage-
ment before any facts collected can be applied to
their proper purposes, and that before any knowledge
of nature, as it exists, is stored in the intellect, that
intellect must be previously possessed of certain
regulations, to the criterion of which the knowledge
gained must be submitted. A quotation from Dr.
(jerard's little work will afford one of the best speci-
mens of the now pretty generally understood confuta-
tion of this fallacy. Speaking of logic he says : —
"This is one of the most abstruse and difficult
branches of philosophy, and therefore quite improper
to begin with. It has a strict dependence on many
parts of knowledge : these must of consequence be
premised before it can be rightly apprehended; the
natural history of the human understanding must be
known, and its phenomena discovered; for without
this the exertions of the intellectual faculties, and
their application to the various subjects of science,
will be unintelligible. These phenomena must be
not only narrated, but likewise, as far as possible,
explained; for without investigating their general
laws, no certain and general conclusions concerning
their exercise can be deduced: nay, all sciences, all
branches of knowledge whatever must be premised
as a groundwork to genuine logic. History has one
kind of evidence, mathematics another; natural phil-
osophy one still different; the philosophy of nature
another distinct from all these ; the subordinate
branches of these several parts have still minuter

ALEXANDER GERARD.

97

peculiarities in the evidence appropriated to them.
An unprcjmliced mind will in each of these be con-
vinced by that species of argument which is peculiar
to it, though it does not reflect how it comes to be
convinced. By being conversant in them one is pre-
pared for the study of logic, for they supply them
with a fund of materials: in them the different kinds
of evidence and argument are exemplified: from
them only those illustrations can be taken, without
which its rules and precepts would be unintelligible.
. . . In studying the particular sciences, reason
will spontaneously exert itself: if the proper and
natural method of reasoning is used, the mind will,
by the native force of its faculties, perceive the evi-
dence, and be convinced by it, though it does not
reflect how this comes to pass, nor explicitly con-
sider according to what general rules the under-
standing is exerted. By afterv.-ards studying these
rules one will be farther fitted for prosecutmg the
several sciences; the knowledge of the grounds and
laws of evidence will give him the security of reflec-
tion against employing wrong methods of proof and
improper kinds of evidence, additional to that of in-
stinct and natural genius." The consequence of this
acknowledgment of the supremacy of reason and
practice over argumentation and theory was the
establishment of a course of lectures on natural and
civil history, previously to inculcating the correspond-
ing sciences of natural and mental philosophy — an
institution from which, wherever the former part con-
sists of anything better than a blundering among ex-
plosive combustibles, and a clattering among glass
vessels, or the latter is anything superior to a cir-
cumstantial narrative of ancient falsehoods and
modern dates — the student derives a basis of sound
and useful information, on which the more meta-
physical sciences may or may not be built, as circum-
stances or inclination admit. It is a striking instance
of the propensity to follow with accuracy the beaten
track, or to deviate only when some powerful spirit
leads the way, that the system has never advanced
further than as laid down by Dr. Gerard; — according
to his system, jurisprudence and politics are to be
preceded by pneumatology and natural theology, and
are to be mixed up "with the perasal of some of the
best ancient moralists." Thus the studies of juris-
prudence and politics, two sciences of strictly modem
practical origin, are to be mixed with the dogmas of
philosophers, who saw governments but in dreams,
and calculated political contingencies in the abstract
rules of mathematicians; and the British student finds
that the constitutional information for which he will
at a more advanced period of life discover that his
country is renowned is the only science from which
the academical course has carefully excluded him,
and which he is left to gather in after-life by desul-
tory reading or miscellaneous conversation and prac-
tice. The change produced by Dr. Gerard was suf-
ficiently sweeping as a first step, and the reasons for
it were a sufficient victory for one mind over the
stubbornness of ancient prejudice. It is to be also
remembered that those admirable constitutional works
on the government and constitutional laws of Eng-
land (which have not even yet been imitated in Scot-
land), and that new science by which the resources
of governments and the relative powers of different
forms of constitutions are made known like the cir-
cumstances of a private individual — the work of an
illustrious Scotsman — had not then appeared.

In 1 756 a prize offered by the Philosophical Society
of Edinburgh, for the best essay on taste, was gained
by Dr. Gerard, and in 1 759 he published this essay,
the best and most popular of his philosophical works.
It passed through three English editions and two

VOL. II,

French, in which language it was published by
Eidous, along with three dissertations on the same
subject by Voltaire, D'Alembert, and Montesquieu.
This essay treats first of what the author calls taste,
resolved into its simple elements, and contains a sort
of analytical account of the different perceptible
qualities, more or less united, to be found in anything
we admire: he then proceeds to consider the progress
of the formation of taste, and ends with a discussion
on the existence of a standard of taste. The author
follows the system of reflex senses propounded by
Hutchinson. The system of association, upon which
Mr. Alison afterwards based a treatise on the same
subject, is well considered by Gerard, along with
many other qualifications, which he looks upon as
the sources of the feeling — qualifications which other
writers, whose ideas on the subject have not yet
been confuted, have referred likewise to the prin-
ciples of association for \.\\t\Tflrst cause. Longinus,
in his treatise on sublimity, if he has not directly
maintained the original influence of association — or
in other words, the connection of the thing admired,
either through cause and effect, or some other tie,
with what is pleasing or good — as an origin of taste,
at least in his reasonings and illustrations, gives cause
to let it be perceived that he acknowledged such a
principle to exist. ^ The first person, however, who
laid it regularly down and argued upon it as a source
of taste, appears to have been Dr. Gerard; and his
theory was admitted by Sir Joshua Reynolds (in as
far as maintaining that beauty consists in an aptness
of parts for the end to which they are assigned may
be considered an admission of the principle of asso-
ciation), at a period when one of an inversely oppo-
site nature was supported by Burke and Price. To
those who have followed these two, the name of
Dugald Stewart has to be added ; while that emi-
nent scholar and great philosopher Richard Payne
Knight has, amidst the various and rather ill-ar-
ranged mass of useful information and acute remark
accumulated in his inquiry into the principles of
taste, well illustrated the theoiy propounded by Dr.
Gerard; and it has been finally enlarged and systema-
tized by Dr. Alison, and the author of a criticism
on that work in the Editibitrgh Rezieiu, one of the
most beautiful and perfect specimens of modern
composition.

At the period when Dr. Gerard produced this
work, he was a member of a species of debating
institution half-way betwixt a society and a club,
subject neither to the pompous formality of the one
nor the free-and-easy style of the other. This society
is well known in Scottish literary historj' as embrac-
ing among its members many of the first men of the
time. More or less connected with it were the clas-
sical Blackwell; and Gregory; and Reid, the parent
of that clear philosophy which has distinguished the
country; and Beattie, who, though his merits have
perhaps been too highly rated, was certainly fit to have
been an ornament to any association of literary' men.
The use of literary societies has been much exagger-
ated; but still it cannot be denied, that wherever
a spot becomes distinguished for many superior
minds, there is one of these pleasing sources of ac-
tivity and enjoyment to be found. That it is more
the effect than the cause may be true. Such men
as Gerard, Reid, and Blackwell would have been
distinguished in any sphere of life ; but if the prin-
ciple should maintain itself in no other science, it
is at least true of philosophy, that intercommunica-
tion and untechnical debate clear and purify the

' This is particularly remarkable at the commencement of
the seventh section.

42

98

ALEXANDER GERARD.

ideas previously formed, and ramify them to an
extent of which the thinker had never previously
dreamed. It must have been grateful beyond con-
ception to the members of this retired and unosten-
tatious body, to have found learning and elegance
gradually brightening under their influence, after a
dreary and unlettered series of ages which had passed
over their university and the district — to feel that,
though living apart from the grand centres of literary
attraction, they had the enjoyments these could be-
stow beside their own retired hearths and among
their own professional colleagues — and to be con-
scious that they bestowed a dignity on the spot they
inhabited, which a long period of commercial pros-
perity could never bestow, and gave a tone to the
literature of their institution which should continue
when they were gone.

In June, 1760, Dr. Gerard was chosen professor
of divinity in Marischal College, being at the
same time presented to the living of the Grayfriars'
Church, in Aberdeen. During his tenure of these
offices he published his Dissertations on the Genius
and Evidences of Christianity, a subject which he
treated with more soundness, reason, and gentle-
manly spirit, than others of the same period have
chosen to display. In June, 1771, he resigned both
these situations, and accepted the theological chair
of King's College, and three years afterwards pub-
lished An Essay on Genius: this production is stamped
with the same strength of argument and penetrating
thought everywhere to be found in the productions
of the author. The heads of the subject are laid
down with much philosophical correctness, and
followed out with that liberal breadth of argument
peculiar to those who prefer what is reasonable and
true to what supports an assumed theory. The
language is not florid, and indeed does not aim at
what is called elegant writing, but is admirably
fitted to convey the ideas clearly and consistently,
and seems more intended to be understood than to
be admired. It commences with a discussion on
the nature of "genius," which is separated from the
other mental powers, and particularly from "ability,"
with which many have confounded it. Genius is
attributed in the first process of its formation to im-
agination, which discovers ideas to be afterwards
subjected to the arbitration of judgment ; memory,
and the other intellectual powers, being considered
as subsidiary aids in instigating the movements of
imagination.

Dr. Gerard afterwards presented to the world two
volumes of sermons, published in 17S0-S2. He
died on his sixty-seventh birth-day, 22d Feb. 1795.
A sermon was preached on his funeral, and after-
wards published, by his friend and pupil Dr. Skene
Ogilvy of Old Aberdeen, which, along with the
adulation common to such performances, enumerates
many traits of character which the most undisguised
flatterer could not have dared to have attributed to
any but a good, able, and much esteemed man. A
posthumous work, entitled Pastoral Care, was pub-
lished by Dr. Gerard's son and successor in 1799.

GERARD, Alexander. This enterprising east-
ern traveller, who died a martyr to his zeal in ex-
ploring the various regions of Hindoostan, was the
son of Gilbert Gerard, professor of theology in King's
College, Aberdeen, and grandson of Alexander
Gerard, who had previously occupied the same chair
in that college. This clerical succession, however,
was broken in the case of Alexander, who selected
the army as his sphere of occupation, and went to
India at the early age of sixteen. It was not, how-
ever, in military transactions that he was to win

distinction; but the more scientific parts of his pro-
fession, for which he showed a remarkable aptitude,
so that not long after his arrival in India, he was
sent by Sir David Gchterlony to survey Malacca, a
task which he executed with great accuracy, mostly
at mid-day, under a burning sun. After this he was
employed to make many of the surveys in the East
which were judged of peculiar difficulty and import-
ance, and in consequence of these appointments
he resided many years in the then almost unknown
district of Chinese Tartary, and among the Himalaya
Mountains. The dangers he dared and the toils he
endured among these mountains were almost in-
credible : he scaled heights that had never been
ascended by the foot of any European traveller, and
was rewarded by finding tribes in many places which
had hitherto been deemed uninhabited and unin-
habitable.

It was unfortunate, that while executing these pro-
fessional sur\-eys, and communicating his reports to
the East India Company, Captain Gerard took no
means of imparting to the world at large a full ac-
count of his explorations, contenting himself with
a few occasional notices published in India. For-
tunately, however, there was one exception to this
general statement, by the appearance of a work pub-
lished after his death, with the title which we give
in full: IVarrative of a fourney from Caivnpoor to the
Borendo Pass in the Himalaya l\foutitains, via
G'cualior, Agra, Delhi, and Sirhind, by Major Sir
William Lloyd; and Captain Alexander Gerard^s
Account of an Attempt to Penetrate by Bekhur to
Guroo and the Lake Manasorowara ; 'with a L^etter
from the late jf. G. Gerard, Esq. , detailijig a Visit to
the Shutool and Bore/ido Passes, for tfu Purpose of
Determining the Line of Perpetual Snow on the
Southern Face of the Himalaya, &c. &c., with maps.
Edited by George Lloyd. 2 vols. 8vo. London,
1840. In this work the second volume is occupied
by the " narrative" of Captain Gerard, and in it we
can see the character of the man, and the nature of
those travels and investigations which he prosecuted
for so many years in India, until his energies were
exhausted. Of this detailed expedition, however,
our limits will only permit a few particulars.

He left Sobahtoo in the beginning of June, 1821,
and ascended the Himalaya Mountains, noting care-
fully on the way the places inhabited, their range of
elevation above the level of the sea, their temperature
and produce, and the character of the tribes who
occupied them. Toiling and struggling amidst the
eternal snows, but still continuing his march upward,
he and his company, now looking more like ghosts
than men, reached the Borendo Pass, an elevation of
15,121 feet, on the 15th of June. It was a height at
which travellers can sleep little, and breathe only
with difficulty, while they are subject to frequent
headaches. Here their native guides refused to pro-
ceed with them, declaring that to go higher was
impossible; so that Gerard was obliged to alter his
route to the source of the Pabur, and seek it by
another. Charung Pass, an elevation of 17)348 feet,
he reached on the 9th of July, and half a mile of
this height was so slippeiy with stones, gravel, and
snow half melted by the rain, that he was obliged to
move upward on all fours, thrusting his hands deep
into the snow to secure his hold. Another ascent
which he performed was to the Keeobrung Pass,
18,313 feet in height, and a third was the Gangthung
Pass, an elevation of 18,295 f'^^'- Most of the com-
munities with which the ledges of the Himalayas in
these directions were dotted, consisted chiefly oJ
Tartars and Chinese, the subjects of the Celestial
Empire, whose conduct to the traveller was various;

ALEXANDER GERARD

some receiving him kindly and treating him with
hospitality, while others were churlish, and would
not allow him to proceed. In many cases, too,
Captain Gerard did not fmd the occupants of these
vast heights to be so uncomfortable as such localities
would seem to intimate. They had a healthy climate
cooled from the heat of the burning Indian sun, a
fertile soil in which some of the fruits and grains of
Europe were mixed with those of a warmer region, and
his description of one of these — the village of Ilango,
11,400 feet above the sea — would present allure-
ments for a European agriculturist to become a settler
there. It contains "thirty families of Tartars and
two nuns. It is situated at the head of a dell, in the
bosom of cultivation, extending nearly a mile in one
direction, and half that in the other. There are a
few poplar-trees, but apricots do not vegetate. I
have seldom seen more luxuriant crops: the ear of
the ooa showed so large and full, that I was induced
to count the grains, and I found the average of eight
picked casually to be seventy-eight fold. The pro-
duce here is the same as at Nako; most of the fields
were ripe, and some even cut. The glen runs nearly
east and west; a stream flows on each side of it, and
one through the middle; and the supply of water
never fails." At Nisung, another village at an eleva-
tion of more than 10,000 feet, at which our traveller
halted, he witnessed a usage which must have warmed
his heart with recollections of his native home. "I
remarked," he says, "a custom here similar to that
of the Scotch farmers, who, on commencing harvest,
plait some of the first-cut stalks of corn, and fix them
over the chimney-piece till next harvest. The Tar-
tars fasten three stalks of barley over the outside of
the door, the ear hanging down: every door in the
village was thus ornamented." Of the time alone
occupied in these perilous expeditions of Gerard, an
idea may be formed from the fact, that this one did
not terminate until the end of September, 1S21,
being a journey that lasted four months.

But such journeys in Hindoostan, continued over a
long course of -years, were sufficient to wear out a
constitution of iron ; and at last, yielding to the
solicitations of his friends, he returned to his native
country. But the return was too late for the recovery
of his health, and at home he was subject to per-
iodical attacks of a fever under which he gradually
sunk. It was one of these that carried him off on
the 15th of December, 1839, at Aberdeen, after a
short illness of three days.

Alexander was not the only one of the family of
the Gerards distinguished in the records of Indian
travel. His elder brother. Dr. James Gerard, of the
Bengal medical establishment, who accompanied
him in many of his expeditions and surveys, was
distinguished by the same adventurous enthusiasm,
and scarcely his inferior in that scientific skill and
quickness of observation so necessary for exploring
unknown and interesting countries; and he, too, like
his brother, fell a martyr to his zeal for Indian ex-
ploration. The following short account of him by
Captain Alexander Gerard, written only four weeks
before his own death, in a letter to the editor of Sir
William Lloyd's N'arrative, will be more interesting
than a lengthened narrative:

" You would be sorry to see my poor brother
James's death. His trip to Bokhara with Colonel
Sir A. Burnes was a mad-like expedition for
him, as he had long been unwell, and was obliged
to leave his bed to go, and could only travel in a
palkee [palankin]. It was, however, his own wish,
and, at his own particular request, that Burnes
applied for him. This trip killed him, for he had
several attacks of fever on his way to Bokhara, and

GILBERT GERARD.

99

Burnes again and again urged him either to return
or stop at Kabool till he recovered. But he
would do neither. His love of research carried him
on, and he persevered and accomplished the journey
with the greatest difficulty. On his return he was
detained three months at Meskid, and no less than
eight at Herat, by fever, so after his arrival at
Soobahtoo, his constitution was completely worn
out. He never had a single day's good health, and
gradually declined. But the doctors would not be-
lieve him on account of the florid complexion he
had even on the very day of his death. Patrick and
I were with him the whole time he survived, which
was just a year, for I got leave of absence on purpose
to prepare a map of his route from his notes; for he
observed the bearings, estimated the distances, and
noted the villages all the way from Herat to the
Indus." Of this survey taken from the notes, and
drawn up under the inspection of Dr. Gerard, the
captain gives the following interesting account: —
"It was a splendid map. It measures ten feet long
by three broad, on the scale of five miles to an inch.
At my brother's dying request I presented it to Sir
C. Metcalfe, then governor-general, from whom I
received a thousand thanks. The map is now
with the army of the Indus, and I was gratified
to hear, that, as far as they had gone, they had
found the positions of the roads wonderfully cor-
rect, considering the distances were estimated by
time, and the bearings taken with a small pocket
compass."

Such was the active character and career of two
enterprising brothers, whom no dangers could daunt
or difficulties deter; whose only place of rest was the
grave, and who persevered in their long pilgrimage
until their mission was accomplished.

GERARD, Gilbert, D.D., a divine, father of
the foregoing Alexander and James, and son of the
Rev. Alexander Gerard, D.D. (a memoir of whom
we have already given), was born at Aberdeen on the
1 2th of August, 1 760, and having acquired the earlier
elements of his professional education in his native
city, at a period when the eminence of several
great and well-known names dignified its universi-
ties, he finished it in the more extended sphere of
tuition furnished by the university of Edinburgh.
Before he reached the age of twenty-two, a vacancy
having occurred in the ministry of the Scottish
church of Amsterdam, a consideration of his father's
qualifications prompted the consistory to invite the
young divine to preach before them, and he was
subsequently waited upon by that body, with an
offer of the situation, which he accepted. During
his residence in Holland he turned the leisure allowed
him by his clerical duties, and his knowledge of the
Dutch language and of general science, to the sup-
port, with the assistance of two literary friends, of a
periodical called Dc Rccenscjit. What may have
been the intrinsic merits of this publication it would
be difficult to discover, either through the medium
of personal inquiry or general report, in a nation
where modern Dutch literature is unnoticed and
almost unknown; but it obtained the best suffrage of
its utility in the place for which it was intended — an
extensive circulation. During the same period he like-
wise occupied himself in contributing to the English
press; and on the establishment of the Analytical
Ra^'iciu in 1788, he is understood to have conducted
the department of that periodical referring to foreign
literature, — a task for which his hereditary critical
acuteness, his residence on the Continent, and know-
ledge of the classical and of several modern languages,
some of which were then much neglected, or had but

S D Q ft Q n A

GILBERT GERARD

ADAM GIB.

begun to attract the attention of educated English-
men, must have given peculiar facilities.

During his residence at Amsterdam he received
as a token of respect from his native university the
degree of Doctor of Divinity. Soon after this event
his professional and literary pursuits experienced a
check from a severe illness, which compelled him to
seek early in life a restorative for his weakened con-
stitution, in breathing the air of his native countr}-.
The change of climate had the desired effect, and he
returned restored in health to his duties in Holland.
These he continued to perform until April, 1791,
when strong family motives induced him to relinquish
a situation which habit and friendship had endeared
to him, and his resignation of which was followed by
the regrets of those who had experienced the merits
of their pastor. He soon after accepted the vacant
professorship of Greek in the King's College of
Aberdeen, a situation which he held for four years.
Although the students of King's College are not verj-
numerous, and the endowments connected with the
institution are by no means affluent, both are very
respectable, and there is every opportunity on the
part of the instructor to e.xhibit, both to the world
in general and to his students, those qualifications
which make the man respected and esteemed. From
the youth of the scholars generally committed to his
care, the professor of Greek is not only the public
lecturer in his department of literature, but the in-
stnictor of its elements; and he has not only to per-
form the more ostentatious duty of exhibiting to and
laying before them the stores of his own knowledge,
but to find the means by which this knowledge shall
enter the mind of each individual student. The in-
structor meets his pupils during a considerable por-
tion of the day, and for several months together; and
a knowledge of individuals is thus acquired, which
gives the benevolent and active discerner of charac-
ter an opportunity of uniting the friend and the in-
structor towards the young man who looks to him
for knowledge. The shrewdness of the young re-
specting those who have cognizance over them is
proverbially acute, and it frequently happens that
while the learned world has overlooked, in the midst
of brilliant talents or deep learning, the absence or
presence of the other more personal qualities requisite
fir the instruction of youth, the pupils have dis-
covered these, and, as a consequence, have pursued
or neglected their proper studies as they have per-
sonally respected or disliked the teacher of them.
It was the consequence of the learning and personal
worth of Dr. Gerard that his pupils respected his
personal character, and acquired, from his knowledge
and his kind friendship towards them, an enthusiasm
for Greek literature, which few teachers have had
the good fortune to inspire, and which has very sel-
dom made its appearance in Scotland. A course of
lectures on Grecian history and antiquities (unfor-
tunately never given to the world) which he delivered
to his students was profitably remembered by many,
to whom they formed a stable foundation for more
extended knowledge of the subject.

During the latter years of his father's life he had
assisted him in the performance of his duties as pro-
fessor of divinity, and on his death succeeded to that
situation, where he brought, to the less irksome and
more intellectual dutiesof instilling philosophic know-
ledge into more advanced minds, the same spirit of
friendly intercourse which had distinguished his ele-
mentary instructions. The Scottish student of divinity
is frequently a person who stands in need of a protector
and friend; and when he has none to trust to but
the teachers of the profession, on whom all have a
claim, it is very natural that these individuals should

hesitate in the exercise of any little patronage on
which there is an indefinite number of claimants.
It is, however, worthy of remark, to the honour of
the individuals who have filled these situations, that
many of them have been the best friends to their
students, and that although they had at that period
to look to them for no professional remuneration,
they considered themselves as being, from the com-
mencement of the connection, not only the tem-
porary instructors, but the guardians of the future
conduct, and the propagators of the future fortune,
of their students. Of these feelings on the part of
Dr. Gerard many afterwards dispersed in respectable
ministerial situations through the country retained an
affectionate recollection. His influence, which was
considerable, was used in their favour, and where he
had not that to bestow, he was still a friend. In
181 1 he added to his professorship the second charge
of the collegiate church of Old Aberdeen, and con-
tinued to hold both situations till his death. During
the inter\-ening period he permitted his useful leisure
hours to be occupied with the fulfilment of the duties
of the mastership of mortifications for King's College,
— certainly rather an anomalous office for a scholar,
and one which, with a salarj- that could have been no
inducement, seems to have brought along with it the
qualities of its not very auspicious name. The duties,
though petty and irksome in the extreme, were per-
formed with the same scrupulous exactness which
distinguished the professor's more important pursuits;
and he had in the end, from his diligent discharge of
these duties, and his being able to procure, from his
personal influence with the government, a grant in
favour of the university, the satisfaction of rescuing
it from the poverty with which it was threatened, by
a degree of augmentation of the stipends of several
churches, of which the college was titular. During
this period of adversity Dr. Gerard had before his
eyes the brighter prospect of a benefice in the Scottish
metropolis, which many of his friends there attempted
to prevail on him to accept ; but the retired habits
consequent on a studious life, the small but select
circle of intimate friends in the neighbourhood of his
college, to whose appearance and conversation long
intercourse had endeared him, and a desire to benefit
an institution he might almost call paternal, prompted
him to continue his useful duties.

Dr. Gilbert Gerard died on the 2Sth of September,
181 5, and amidst the regrets of his acquaintances,
the professional tribute to his memory was bestowed
by the same reverend friend who preached his father's
funeral sermon. His only published work is entitled
Institutes of Biblical Criticism, published in Edin-
burgh in iSoS. It has received from his profession
that approval which the author's merit had given
cause to anticipate. It is characterized by the author
of the Biographic Universcllc 2.% " Un ouvrage plein
d'erudition, et compose dans un bon esprit."

GIB, Adam, long distinguished as leader of the
religious party called Antiburghers, was a native of
Perthshire, and bom in 17 13. He received his edu-
cation at the university of Edinburgh. In the year
1 74 1 he was ordained a minister of the Associated
Presbyterj', recently formed by Mr. Ebenezer Ersktne
and others, as detailed in the life of that eminent in-
dividual. Mr. Gib's charge was one of the most im-
portant in the kingdom— namely the congregation
in the southern suburbs of Edinburgh, which was
after^vards administered to by Dr. Jamieson, the
learned author of the Scottish Etynwlogical Dic-
tionary. It is well known that during the progress
of the rebellion of 1745-6, no body of individuals in
Scotland manifested a warmer loyalty to the govern-

ADAM GIB JOHN GIBB.

ment than that to which Mr. Gib belonged. When
the insurgents were approaching Edinburgh, about
300 of the congregation in and around the city took
up arms for its defence, hired a sergeant to teach
them the military exercise, and were the last to de-
liver up their arms to the castle, when all hope of
holding out the town had been abandoned. During
the six weeks' occupation of the city by Prince Charles,
the established Presbyterian clergy were, with one
exception, mute, having mostly fled to the country.
Mr. Gib was also obliged to abandon his meeting-
house; but he did not flee so far as the rest, nor resign
himself to the same inactivity. He assembled his
congregation at Dreghorn, about three miles from
the town, and within a short distance of Colinton,
where the insurgents kept a guard, and not only
preached the gospel as usual, but declared that he
was doing so as an open proof and testimony
"that we are resolved, through the Lord's grace, to
come to no terms with the enemy that has power in
the city, but to look on them as enemies, showing
ourselves to be none of their confederacy. In our
public capacity," he continued, "it is fit that we
make even a voluntary removal from the place where
they are, as from the seat of robbers, showing our-
selves resolved that their seat shall not be ours."
Mr. Gib thus discoursed on five different Sundays,
"expressly preaching up an abhorrence of the rebel-
lion then on foot, and a hope of its speedy overthrow,
and every day making express mention of the reign-
ing sovereign in public prayer; praying for the safety
of his reign, the support of his government, a bless-
ing on his family, and the preservation of the Pro-
testant succession in that family; at the same time
praying for the suppression of the rebellion, expressly
under the characters of an unnatural and anti-christian
rebellion, hes.<le(l hy -x Popish pretender." What is
most surprising of all, to pursue Mr. Gib's own rela-
tion of the circumstances, "while I was doing so, I
ordinarily had a party of the rebel guard from Col-
lington, who understood English, standing before
me on the outside of the multitude. . . . Though
they then attended with signs of great displeasure,
they were restrained from using any violence: yet,
about that time, as I was passing on the road near
CoUington, one of them who seemed to be in some
command, fired at me ; but for anything that ap-
peared, it might be only with a design to fright me."

In a subsequent part of the campaign, when the
Seceders re-appeared in arms along with the English
army, Mr. Gib seems to have accompanied them to
Falkirk, where, a few hours before the battle of the
17th January, he distinguished himself by his activity
in seizing a rebel spy. When the rebels in the even-
ing took possession of Falkirk, they found that
person in prison, and, being informed of what Mr.
Gib had done, made search for him through the
town, with the intention, no doubt, of taking some
measure of vengeance for his hostility.

Referring the reader to the article Ebenezer Er-
SKINE for an account of the schism which took place
in 1747 in the Associated Presbytery, respecting the
burgess oath, we shall only mention here that Mr. Gib
took a conspicuous part at the head of the more rigid
party, termed Antiburghers, and continued during
the rest of his life to be their ablest advocate and
leader. A new meeting-house was opened by him,
November 4, 1753, in Nicholson Street, in which he
regularly preached for many years to about 2000
persons. His eminence in the public affairs of his
sect at last obtained for him the popular epithet of
Pope Gib, by which he was long remembered. In
^765. when the General Assembly took the subject
of the Secession into consideration, as a thing that

"threatened the peace of the countr}-," Mr. Gib
wrote a spirited remonstrance against that injurious
imputation; and, as a proof of the attachment of the
Seceders to the existing laws and government, de-
tailed all those circumstances respecting the rebellion
in 1745 which we have already embodied in this
notice. In 1774 Mr. Gib published A Display of
t/te Secession I'estimony, in two volumes 8vo; and in
1784 his Sacred Contemplaliois, at the end of which
was "An Essay on Liberty and Necessity," in an-
swer to Lord Kaimes' essay on that subject. Mr. Gib
died, June 18, 1788, in the seventy-fifth year of his
age and forty-eighth of his ministry, and was in-
terred in the Grayfriars' Churchyard, where an
elegant monument was erected to his memory, at the
expense of his grateful congregation.

GIBB, John. This active and skilful civil en-
gineer was born at Kirkcows, a small property be-
longing to his father near Falkirk, in 1776. His
father having died when he was only twelve years of
age, John learned the first lessons of his future pro-
fession by serving an apprenticeship to a mechanical
trade: after this he was so fortunate as to learn the
higher departments of civil engineering at the Lan-
caster and Preston canal, in the construction of
which his brother-in-law was engaged under its super-
intendent, Mr. Rennie. From this he was afterwards
transferred to Leith, where he was employed in the
formation of the Leith docks under his father-in-law,
Mr. Easton.

Having thus acquired a knowledge of his profession
under the patronage and direction of such near rela-
tives, John Gibb was enabled to commence business
on his own account; and his character for profes-
sional skill being established, he was employed by
the magistrates and town-council of Greenock in the
erection of the new harbour of that town, under the
superintendence of Mr. Rennie. It was a fortunate
turning-point in his progress, for, while employed
upon this commission, he was so fortunate as to at-
tract the attention of Mr. Telford to his superior man-
agement and skill. As Mr. Telford was at that time
looking out for a resident engineer to the harbour-
works at Aberdeen, he recognized in Gibb a fit
person for so responsible a charge, and engaged him
accordingly. The latter removed to Aberdeen in
1809, and warranted the recommendation by erecting
the extensive piers at the entrance into the Aberdeen
harbour. It was at an after period of his life that,
along with his son, he deepened the bed, and con-
structed quay- walls for the conversion of the harbour
into a wet-dock, as well as introduced many other im-
portant improvements — works which secured the high
approbation of Mr. Telford, one of the most com-
petent judges in civil engineering. These he de-
clared Mr. Gibb had superintended with unremitting
attention, and had distinguished himself in them by
remarkable ingenuity and perseverance.

Aberdeenshire being found too contracted a field
for his professional exertions, Mr. Gibb became a
contractor for extensive works in other districts, and
principally in the south of .Scotland, and his first con-
tract of this kind, in 1S17, won him honourable com-
mendation from the highest quarters. The Crinan
Canal was to be finished in a twelvemonth, and at
the end of Febraary in that year it was closed
to admit of the necessarj- operations. Mr. Gibb
engaged to complete these operations within the
specified time, and his offer was accepted. In this
he was better than his word, for in nine months the
arduous task was finished. In the report of the
parliamentarj' commissioners for the improvement of
the canal, consisting of Lords Castlereagh, Melville,

JAMES GIBBS.

llinning, and Glenbervie, they thus record the gra-
tifying fact: — "The canal was closed at the end of
Februar)', 1817, to admit of the necessarj^ operations,
for the completion of which we allowed the contrac-
tor (Mr. Gib)} of Aberdeen) a twelvemonth, expiring
February, iSiS. But his activity has outrun our ex-
pectations, the canal having been actually ojiened
for use in the beginning of November last. On a
review of what has been done by Mr. Gibb, we can-
not but be gratified at such an instance of exertion."
Such promptitude, combined with such professional
care and skill, necessarily led to numerous engage-
ments in the erection or completion of jniblic works,
and as he was effectually aided by his son, who
worked with him in partnership, he was enabled to
continue his exertions to a good old age. The last
commission in which they were conjointly occupied
was the erection of the Glasgow bridge faced with
Aberdeen granite, designed by Mr. Telford; and
this they performed so satisfactorily, that the bridge
trustees presented to them at the close of the work
two elegant pieces of plate in token of their satis-
faction. After having outlived most of his contem-
poraries, so that he was one of the oldest meml^ers
of the Institution of Civil Engineers of London, Mr.
Gibb died at Aberdeen on the 3d of December, 1S50.

GEBBS, J.\MES, a celebrated architect, was bom
in Aberdeen, according to the most approved autho-
rity, in the year 1674, though Walpole and others
j)lace the date of his birth so late as 1683, a period
which by no means accords with that of his advance-
ment to fame in his profession. He was the only
son (by his second wife)' of Peter Gibbs of Footdees-
mire, a merchant, and, as it would appear from his
designation, a proprietor or feuar of a piece of ground
along the shore at the mouth of the Dee, where his
house, called "the White House in the Links," re-
mains an evidence of the respectability and compara-
tive wealth of the family. Old Gibbs retained, during
the stormy period in which he lived, the religion of
his ancestors, and was a staunch non-juror. An
anecdote is preserved by his fellow-townsmen, char-
acteristic of the man and of the times. The conflict-
ing religious doctrines of Presbyterian and Episco-
palian, and of course the political doctrines of Whig
and Tory, found in Al^erdeen a more equal balance
than perhaps in any other part of Scotland; and his-
tory has shown that, in the event of a serious struggle,
the influence of the Huntly family generally made
the latter predominate; in these circumstances, it may
easily be supposed that the city was a scene of per-
petual petty jarring, and that pasquinades and abuse
were liberally given and bitterly received. Gibbs
being a Roman Catholic was the friend of neither
jiarty, and an object of peculiar antipathy to the
Presbyterians, wlio testified their sense of his import-
ance and wickedness by instructing the children in
the neighbourhood to annoy the old gentleman in
his premises, and hoot him on the streets. Gibbs,
to show his respect for both parties, procured two
fierce dogs for his personal jirotection, and engraved
on the collar of the one "Luther," and on that of
the other "Calvin;" the compliment was understood
by neither party; and the dogs and their master being
summoned before the bailies to answer for their re-
spective misdemeanours, the former were delivered
over to the proper authorities, and executed accord-
ing to law, at the cross, the public place of execution.

The subject of our memoir attended the usual

1 Cunningham errs in supposing that James Gibbs was the
only son and only child of Peter Gibbs. There was a son
William, by the first wife, who went abroad after his father's
death— what became of him is not known.

course of instruction at the grammar-school, and
was afterwards sent to Marischal College, where he
accepted of the easily acquired degree of Master of
Arts. At that period when the Scottish colleges
were partly remnants of monastic institutions, partly
schools for the instruction of boys, having the indo-
lence of the Roman Catholic age strangely mingled
with their own poverty and the simplicity of Presby-
terian government, there were but two classes of
persons at the universities — the sons of the noblemen
and gentlemen, living in a style superior to the
citizens, and a poorer class who were supported by
the bursaries, or even common charity ; the two
classes wore different dresses, and of course had little
communication with each other, excepting such as
might exist between master and servant. To which
of these classes Gibbs may have belonged is not
known ; that it should have been the latter is not
so improbable as it may appear, as custom, the
master of everything, made it by no means degrad-
ing to those of inferior rank; while a burgess, what-
ever might have been his wealth, would hardly in
that age have been so daring as to have forced his
son upon the company of the offspring of lairds. For
some time after his father's death he was reared and
educated by his uncle-in-law and aunt, Mr. and Mrs.
Morrison, people in much the same respectable
circumstances with his father; but destitute, perhaps
from his religious principles, of influence sufficient
to enable him to follow his father's business with
success, or more probably having a natural bent for
more tasteful pursuits, Gibbs, at the early age of
twenty, left his native town, nor did he ever return
to a spot not very congenial to the pursuit of a pro-
fession which must be studied among the remains
of ancient grandeur, and practised in the midst of
luxury and profusion. From 1694 to I'JOO he studied
architecture and the mathematics in Holland, under
an architect to whom the biographers of Gibbs have
given the merit of possessing reputation, while neither
his own talents nor the subsequent fame of his scho-
lar has preserved his name from oblivion. Here
the young architect made himself acquainted with
the Earl of Marr, then on a visit to the Continent,
who, according to the praiseworthy custom for which
Scotsmen have received rather uncharitable com-
mendation, of assisting their countrymen when they
meet them in a foreign country, gave him recom-
mendatory letters to influential friends, and money
to enable him to pursue the study of his profession,
for which it would appear the earl had a taste.
After leaving Holland he spent ten years in Rome,
where, according to L^allaway, he studied under
P. F. Garroli, a sculptor and architect of consider-
able merit ; and where, like many who have after-
wards issued from the great manufactory of artists
to astonish and gratify the world, he probably spent
his days in labour and unnoticed retirement.

In 1 710 Gibbs returned to Britain, and by the
influence of the Earl of Marr, then secretary of state
for Scotland in Queen Anne's Tory ministry, the
means of exhibiting his knowledge to advantage,
and gaining emolument, were amply provided. The
renowned legislative measure by which the metro-
polis was to be made religious by act of parliament
on the erection of fifty new churches having been
passed, the name of Gibbs was added by his gen-
erous patron to the list of those eminent architects
who were to put the vast plan in execution. Pre-
vious, however, to commencing this undertaking,
he completed the first of his architectural labours,
the additional buildings to King's College, Cam-
bridge. It is generally allowed that this is a pro-
duction on which the architect could not have foun-

JAMES GIBBS.

103

ded much of his fame. "The diminutive Doric
portico," says Dallaway, "is certainly not a happy
performance, either in the idea or the execution.
Such an application of the order would not occur
in a pure and classic instance." While, on the
other hand, the historian of the university of Cam-
bridge remarks: — "It is built of white Portland
stone, beautifully carved, with a grand portico in
the centre; and contains three lofty floors above the
vaults. The apartments, which are twenty-four in
number, are exceedingly well fitted up, and in every
respect correspond with the outward appearance,
which equals that of any other building in the uni-
versity." The latter part of the sentence, in refer-
ence to the spot which contains King's College
Chapel and Clare Hall, is sufficiently complimentary
for the architect's best works. The truth appears
to be, that those trammels which architects have
had more reason to detest than any other class of
artists, restrained the genius of Gibbs in this instance,
and that being obliged to apply given form, size, and
number of apartments, to given space, he had no
opportunity of displaying the beauties which attend
Ids other works. The first of "the fifty," which
Gibbs completed, was St. Martin's-in-the-Fields,
a work which, with its calm tastefulness and simple
grandeur, might have been honourable to the fame
of the greatest architect the world ever saw. The
west front of this building, surmounted by a light
and neatly designed spire, is decorated with Corin-
thian columns, over which is a pediment bearing
the royal arms ; the order is continued round the
sides in pilasters, and there is a double series of
windows in the inter-columniations, an unfortunate
sacrifice of architectural effect to internal accommoda-
tion. The interior is divided into three unequal
parts, by a range of four Corinthian columns and
two pilasters on each side, standing on tall pedestals;
the central space or nave being covered by a semi-
elliptical ceiling, rising from the top of the entab-
lature over each column, and is rich in moulding and
ornament. The following plainly told but judicious
opinion of this building, is given by Ralph, in his
Critical Re7.'ieiv of Public Buildings: — "The portico
is at once elegant and august, and the steeple above
it ought to be considered as one of the most tolerable
in town ; if the steps arising from the street to the
front could have been made regular, and on a line
from end to end, it would have given it a very con-
siderable grace : but, as the situation of the ground
would not allow it, this is to be esteemed rather a
misfortune than a fault. The round columns at each
angle of the church are very well conceived, and
have a very fine effect in the profile of the building:
the east end is remarkably elegant, and very justly
challenges particular applause. In short, if there is
anything wanting in this fabric, it is a little more
elevation, which I presume is apparently wanted
within, and would create an additional beauty with-
out." "All the parts," says Allan Cunningham,
"are nicely distributed, and nothing can be added,
and nothing can be taken away. It is complete in
itself, and refuses the admission of all other orna-
ment. " Much discussion seems to have been wasted
on the portico of St. Martin's, some insisting that
it is a mere model of the portico of the Pantheon,
or some other production of classic art; others main-
taining its equality in merit and design to the best
specimens of Grecian architecture. A portico, to
bear the name, must have basements, pillars, capitals,
and an entablature, just as a house must have a roof
and windows, and a bridge arches ; so all that ori-
ginality can possibly achieve in such a work, is the
harmony of the proportions and ornaments with each

other, and with the rest of the building; it is in hav-
ing made the proportions and ornaments different
from those of the Pantheon, and adapted them to a
totally different building, that Gibbs has been ori-
ginal, and it is on the pleasure which the whole com-
bination affords to the eye that his merit depends;
a merit, however, which cannot come in competi-
tion with that of the invcfitor of the portico. The
next church of the fifty undertaken by Gibbs was
St. Mary's in the Strand, a work on which, if we
may judge from its appearance, he bestowed more
labour with less effect. Instead of appearing like
the effort of a single grand conception, forming a
complete and harmonizing whole, it is like a num-
ber of efforts clustered together. Instead of being
one design, the interstices in which are filled up by
details, it is a number of details united together; in
gazing on which the mind, instead of absorbing the
grandeur of the whole at one view, wanders from
part to part, finding no common connection by which
the joint effect of all may be summoned before it at
once.

Gibbs had just prepared the plans of the buildings
we have described, and was in the high and palmy
state of his fortunes, when his kind patron, having
had his overtures to procure the allegiance of the
Highland clans contumeliously rejected, and having
been disgusted and thrown in fear by the impeach-
ment of Oxford and Stafford, and the exile of Or-
mond and Bolingbroke, resolved to avenge his per-
sonal wrongs by a recourse to the feudal fiction of
the divine origin of hereditary right, to maintain the
theoretic purity of which a nation contented with
its king was plunged in civil war, that the king they
ought not to have been contented without should
be restored. Family ruin followed the rebellion of
the earl ; but the architect, fortified by the practice
of a profession, the principles of which politics could
not sway, and possessing knowledge which, unlike
the art of governing, could not be deprived of its
efficacy by the influence of the party in power, re-
mained unmolested on the step to which he had ad-
vanced, and looked forward to the prospect of other
honours.

The most magnificent, though perhaps not the
purest of Gibbs' works, is the ' Radcliffe Library
at Oxford, on the completion of which he received
the degree of Master of Arts from that university.
The Radcliffe Library is of a circular form, rising
in the centre of an oblong square of 370 feet by i lO,
with a cupola 140 feet high and ICX) feet in diameter.
The lofty dome of this building raises itself in the
centre of almost every prospect of Oxford, and gives
a characteristic richness to the landscape. "The
Radcliffe dome," says Allan Cunningham, "in fact
conveys to every distant observer the idea of its be-
ing the air-hung crown of some gigantic cathedral
or theatre. It is perhaps the grandest feature in
the grandest of all English architectural landscapes;
it rises wide and vast amid a thousand other fine
buildings, interrupts the horizontal line, and mate-
rially increases the picturesque effect of Oxford;"
on a nearer and more critical view, however, the
spectator is disappointed to find that a want of pro-
portion betwixt the cupola and the rest of the build-
ing, slight, but still very perceptible, deadens the
effect of the magnificent whole, a mistake on the
part of the architect which has frequently turned
the whole mass of taste and beauty into an object
of ridicule to the bitter critic. It may be in general
questioned how far such a building, however much
its swelling magnificence may serve to add dignity
to a vast prospect without, or solemnity to an im-
portant pageant within, is suited for the more retired

I04

JAMES GIBES SIR ALEXANDER GIBSON.

purposes of a librarj'. The student seldom wishes
to have his attention obstructed by the intrusion of
a wide prospect upon his view whenever he raises
his eyes; and perhaps when extent and grandeur are
desired, a more suitable method of accommodating
them with comfortable retirement may be found in
a corridor or galler)', where any one, if he is anxious,
may indulge himself by standing at one end, and
luxuriate in the perspective of the whole length,
while he who wishes to study uninterrupted may
retire into a niche, whence his view is bounded by
the opposite side of the narrow galler}'. In the com-
pletion of the quadrangle of All Souls, Gibbs had
the great good fortune to receive a growl of uncharit-
able praise from Walpole. "Gibl)s," says the im-
perious critic, "though he knew little of Gothic
architecture, was fortunate in the quadrangle of All
Souls, which he has blundered into a picturesque
scenery not void of grandeur, especially if seen
through the gate that leads from the schools. The
assemblage of buildings in that quarter, though no
single one is beautiful, always struck me with singu-
lar pleasure, as it conveys such a vision of large
edifices unbroken by private houses, as the mind
is apt to entertain of renowned cities that exist no
longer." Such is the opinion of one whose taste
in Gothic architecture, as represented by the strag-
gling corridors and grotesque and toyish mouldings
of Strawberry Hill, would not, if curiosity thought
it of sufficient importance to be inquired into, bear
the test of a very scrutinizing posterity. A com-
parison of his various opinions of the different works
of Gibbs are among the most amusing specimens
of the constmction of the noble critic's mind. \Vhere
the architect has been tasteful and correct, he only
shows that mere mechanical knowledge may avoid
faults without furnishing beauties, "and where he
has been picturesque and not void of grandeur, the
whole is the effect of chance and blunder." Among
the other works of Gibbs are the monument of
Holies, Duke of Newcastle, in Westminster Abbey;
the senate-house at Cambridge, a very favourable
specimen of his correct and tasteful mind; and some
buildings in the palace of Stowe. The west church
of St. Nicholas in his native city, a very fine speci-
men, if we may believe the accounts of contempor-
aries, of Gothic taste, having fallen nearly to ruin,
Gibbs presented the magistrates with a plan for a
church that might reinstate it. In this production
we look in vain for the mind which imagined the
lofty pomp of the Radcliffe, or the eye that traced
the chaste proportions of St. Martin's ; and one
might be inclined to question with what feelings the
great architect made his donation. The outside
is of no description of architecture under the sun
"in particular;" it just consists of heavy freestone
walls, with a roof, and plain Roman arched windows.
The inside is a degree worse. Heavy groined arches,
supported on heavier square pillars, overtop the
gallery. There is in every corner all the gloom of
the darkest Gothic, with square comers instead of
florid mouldings, and square beams instead of clus-
tered pillars; while the great arched windows of the
Gothic piles, which send a broken and beautiful light
into their farthest recesses, are specially avoided,
a preference being given to wooden square glazed
sashes, resembling those of a shop — in the whole,
the building is one singularly repulsive to a correct
taste.

Gibbs, in 172S, published a folio volume of de-
signs, which have acquired more fame for the know-
ledge than for the genius displayed in them. By
this work he gained the very considerable sum of
;^I900. Besides a set of plans of the Radcliffe

Librar}-, this forms his only published work: his
other papers and manuscripts, along with his lib-
rary, consisting of about 500 volumes, he left as a
donation to the Radcliffe Library. After five years
of suffering from a lingering and painful complaint,
this able, persevering, and upright man died in Lon-
don, in 1754, having continued in the faith of his
ancestors, and unmarried. He made several be-
quests, some to public charities, others to individuals,
one of which in particular must not be passed over.
Remembering the benefactor who had assisted him
in the days of his labour and adversity, he left
;i^iooo, the whole of his plate, and an estate of jC2?>o
a year to the only son of the Earl of Marr ; an un-
common act of gratitude, which, however party
feeling may regret the circumstances which caused
it, will in the minds of good and generous men,
exceed in merit all that the intellect of the artist
ever achieved.

GIBSON", Sir Alexander, Lord Durie, an
eminent lawyer and judge, was the son of George
Gibson of Goldingstones, one of the clerks of session.
The period of his birth we have been unable to dis-
cover; but as we find him admitted a clerk of session
in 1594, we may conclude that he was born con-
siderably more than twenty years previous to that
period. It appears that the appointment of Gibson
to this duty created a new clerkship, and as the addi-
tion in number would reduce the arbitrary sources
of emolument of the other two clerks, it was na-
turally apprehended that the interloper would be
received with the usual jealousy of those whose in-
terests are unduly interfered with. King James VI.,
who had generally some deep and mysteriously wise
purpose in all he did, chose to be personally present
at the appointment of his nominee, in order that the
royal choice might meet with no marks of contempt.
The mindful sovereign was on this occasion pleased to
be so highly delighted with the disinterested conduct
of his obedient clerks, who had so willingly received
a partner "at his highness's wish and special desire,"
that he promised in presence of the court to remun-
erate them with "ane sufficient casualty for said
consents." The chamber in the Register House
instituted by this appointment still retains the deno-
mination of "Durie's Office." At that period the
duties of a principal clerk of session were of a more
politically important nature than they have been
since the union: these officers had to register the
decrees and acts of parliament, in addition to their
present duties. The only remnant of their former
occupations is their acting as clerks at the elections
of the Scottish representative peers. Gibson con-
tinued in his clerkship for all the remainder of his
life, notwithstanding the higher offices to which he
was afterwards promoted. In 1621 he was appointed
a lord of session ; and as the duties of judge and
clerk were rather anomalous, we find by the books
of sederunt that the prudent clerk had procured in
the previous month his son to be installed in the
office. Mr. Alexander Gibson, junior, being ap-
pointed conjunct clerk with Mr. Alexander Gibson,
senior, during the life of the longest liver, the senior,
it may be presumed, continued to draw the salary,
without being much troubled with the duties. Seven
years after his appointment to the bench, we find
him accepting a baronetcy of Nova Scotia, with a
grant of some few square miles of land in that dis-
trict. In 1633 he was appointed a member of one
of the committees for the revision of the laws and
customs of the countr)-. In 1640 he appears to
have been elected a member of the committee of
estates, and his appointment as judge was continued

SIR ALEXANDER GIBSOX

PATRICK GIESOX.

105

under a new commission to the court in 1641. From
the period of his elevation to tlie bench in 1621, till
the year 1642, this laborious lawyer preserved notes
of such decisions of the court as he considered worthy
of being recorded as precedents, a task for which a
previously extensive practice had fitted him. These
were published by his son in one volume folio, in
16SS, and are valuable as the earliest digested col-
lection of decisions in Scottish law. Their chief
peculiarities are their brevity, and, what would not
appear at first sight a natural consequence, their ob-
scurity. But Gibson produced by a too niggardly
supply the effect which is frequently attributed to a
too great multitude of words. He appears, however,
to have always known his own meaning; and when,
with a little consideration, his ralioncs decidendi are
discovered, they are found to be soundly stated.
The clamours which other judges of the day caused
to be raised against their dishonesty and cupidity,
were not applied to Durie. He seems, indeed, as
far as the habits of the times could allow the virtue
to exist except in an absolutely pure being, to have
been a just and fearless judge, for in a period of
general legal rapine and pusillanimity, the possession
of a very moderate share of honesty and firmness in
the judgment-seat made their proprietor worthy of
a nation's honour. If the affirmation of a profes-
sional brother may be credited, Durie possessed, ac-
cording to the opinion of Forbes, a later collector
of decisions, most of the intellectual and moral
qualities which can dignify the bench. It is a proof
of the respect in which his brethren held him, that
while the office continued elective in the senators of
the college, he was repeatedly chosen as president.
At that period the legal practice of Scotland ap-
peared to have improved for the mere purpose of
substituting sophism and injustice under form for
nide equity ; it was a handle to be made use of,
rather than a rule to be applied. The crown had
recourse to legal fictions, and unjust and arbitrary
presumptions, in its dealings with the subject. The
subject, instead of calling for a recourse to constitu-
tional principles, sometimes rose against the admin-
istration of the law, just or unjust. With private
parties the more powerful got the command of the
law, and used it against the weaker. A striking
instance of contempt towards the laws, which took
place during one of the presidencies of Gibson of
Durie, is mentioned in Douglas' Baronage, and
Forbes' Journal, and is more fully and pleasingly
narrated in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.
The Earl of Traquair had an action depending
in court, in which it was understood the president
would, by his influence, cause the court to give
judgment against him. A border freebooter, or
gentleman thief, known by the name of Christie's
Will, owed to the peer some gratitude and allegiance,
having gained his protection by an insolent jest on
the subject of his having been imprisoned for theft.
This person being a gentleman both by descent and
education, insinuated himself into the president's
company during his usual morning ride on the sands
of Leith. On the two reaching a very lonely spot,
the judge was snatched from his horse, rolled into a
blanket, and carried off he knew not where. He
was imprisoned three months, during which time his
friends and himself considered that he was in fairy-
land. The case was decided in favour of Traquair,
and a new president appo'r.ted, when the judge one
morning found himself laid down in the exact spot
from which he had been so suddenly carried off, and
returned to claim his privileges. This useful man
died at his house of Durie on the loth of June, 1644.
He left behind him a son of his own name, who was

active among the other persons of high rank, who
came forward to protect their national church from
the imposition of a foreign liturgy. He is known
as having boldly resisted one of King Charles I.'s
prorogations, by refusing the performance of the
duty of clerk of parliament, already alluded to. He
appears, however, not to have always given satisfac-
tion to the cause he had so well espoused, as he is
more than once mentioned in Lamonfs Diary as a
malignant. He was raised to the bench in 1646.
Besides this son, the wealth of the father allowed
him to provide a junior branch of the family with
the estate of Adistone in Lothian.

GIBSON, P.A.TRICK, an eminent artist and writer
upon art, was born at Edinburgh, in December,
1782. He was the son of respectable parents, who
gave him an excellent classical education, partly at
the high-school, and partly at a private academy.
In his school-boy days he manifested a decided
taste for literature, accompanied by a talent for
drawing figures, which induced his father to place
him as an apprentice under Mr. Nasmyth, the dis-
tinguished landscape-painter; who was, in this man-
ner, the means of bringing forward many men of
genius in the arts. Contemporary with Mr. Gibson
as a student in this school, was Kir. Nasmyth's son
Peter; and it is painful to think, that both of these
ingenious pupils should have gone down to the grave
before their master. Mr. Nasmyth's academy was
one in no ordinary degree advantageous to his
apprentices: such talents as they possessed were
generally brought into speedy use in painting and
copying landscapes, which he himself finished and
sold; and thus they received encouragement from
seeing works of which a part of the merit was their
own, brought rapidly into the notice of the world.
About the same time Mr. Gibson attended the
Trustees' Academy, then taught with distingiiished
success by Mr. Graham. ^^ hile advancing in the
practical part of his profession, Mr. Gibson, from
his taste for general study, paid a greater share of
attention to the branches of knowledge connected
with it, than the most of artists had it in their power
to bestow. He studied the mathematics Mith par-
ticular care, and attained an acquaintance with per-
spective, and with the theory of art in general, which
was in his own lifetime quite unexampled in Scottish
— perhaps in British — art. Mr. Gibson, indeed,
might rather be described as a man of high literary
and scientific accomplishments, pursuing art as a
profession, than as an artist in the sense in which
that term is generally understood. In landscape-
painting he showed a decided preference for the
classical style of Domenichinoand Nicholas Poussin;
and having studied architectural drawing with much
care he became remarkably happy in the views of
temples and other classical buildings which he in-
troduced into his works. When still a veiy young
man, Mr. Gibson went to London, and studied the
best works of art to be found in that metropolis —
the state of the Continent at that time preventing
him from pursuing his investigations any further.

Mr. Gibson painted many landscapes which have
found their way into the collections of the most re-
spectable amateurs in his native countr)-. His own
exquisitely delicate and fastidious taste perhaps pre-
vented him from attaining full success at first, but he
was continually improving ; and, great as the tri-
umphs of his pencil ultimately were, it is not too
much to say, that if life had been spared to him, he
must have reached still higher degrees of perfection.

Mr. Gibson's professional taste and skill, along
with his well-known literary habits, pointed him out

io6

PATRICK GIRSOX JOHN BORTIIWICK GILCHRIST.

as a proper individual to write, not only criticisms
upon the works of modern art brought under public
notice, but articles upon the fundamental principles
of the fine arts, in works embracing miscellaneous
knowledge. He contributed to the Encychpj:dia
Edinensis an elaborate article under the head "De-
sign," embracing the history, theory, and practice of
painting, sculpture, and engraving, and concluding
with an admirable treatise on his favourite subject,
"Linear Perspective," This article extends to io6
pages of quarto, in double columns, and is illus-
trated by various drawings. It is, perhaps, the
best treatise on the various subjects which it em-
braces ever contributed to an encyclopaedia. To Dr.
Brewster's more extensive work, entitled the Edin-
burgh Encyclopirdia, Mr. Gibson contributed the
articles "Drawing," "Engraving," and "Miniature-
painting," all of which attracted notice for the full
and accurate knowledge upon which they appeared
to be based. In the Edinburgh Annual Register for
lSi6, published in 1820, being edited by Mr. J. G.
Lockhart, was an article by Mr. Gibson, entitled
"A View of the Progress and Present State of the
Art of Design in Britain." It is written with much
discrimination and judgment, and is certainly worthy
of being transferred into some more extended sphere
of publication than the local work in which it ap-
peared. An article of a similar kind, but confined
to the progress of the fine arts in Scotland, appeared
in the A'ezv Edinburgh Reziciv, edited by Dr. Rich-
ard Poole. In 1S18 Mr. Gibson published a thin
quarto volume, entitled Etchings of Select J'icios in
Edinburgh, ■n'ith Letter-press Descriptions. The sub-
jects chiefly selected were either street scenes about
to be altered by the removal of old buildings, or
parts opened up temporarily by the progress of im-
provements, and which therefore could never again
be observable in the point of view chosen by the
artist. The most remarkable critical effort of Mr.
Gibson was an anonymous j'eu d' esprit, published in
1822, in reference to the exhibition of the works of
living artists then open, under the care of the Royal
Institution for the Encouragement of the Fine Arts
in Scotland. It assumed the form of a report, by a
society of cognoscenti, upon these works of art,
and treated the merits of the Scottish painters, Mr.
Gibson himself included, with great candour and
impartiality. The style of this pamphlet, though in
no case unjustly severe, was so different from the in-
dulgent remarks of periodical writers, whose names
are generally known, and whose acquaintance with
the artists too often forbids rigid truth, that it occa-
sioned a high degree of indignation among the au-
thor's brethren, and induced them to take some steps
that only tended to expose themselves to ridicule.
Suspecting that the traitor was a member of their
own body, they commenced the subscription of a
paper disclaiming the authorship, and this being
carried to many different artists for their adherence,
was refused by no one till it came to Mr. Gibson,
who excused himself upon general principles from
subscribing such a paper, and dismissed the intruders
with a protest against his being supposed on that
account to be the author. The real cause which
moved Mr. Gibson to put forth this half-jesting,
half-earnest criticism upon his brethren, was an
ungenerous attack upon his own works which
Aad appeared in a newspaper the previous year,
and which, though he did not pretend to trace
it to the hand of any of his fellow-labourers,
was enjoyed, as he thought, in a too malicious
manner by some to whom he had formerly shown
much kindness. He retained his secret, and en-
joyed his joke to the last, and it is only here that

his concern in the pamphlet is for the first time
disclosed.

In 1S26 he gave to the world A Letter to the
Directors and Managers 0/ the Institution for the En-
couragement of the Eine Arts in Scotland. Towards
the close of his life he had composed, with extra-
ordinary care, a short and practical work on per-
spective, which was put to press, but kept back on
account of his decease.

In June, 1818, Mr. Gibson was married to Miss
Isabella M. Scott, daughter of his esteemed friend
Mr. William Scott, the well-known writer upon elo-
cution. By this lady he had three daughters and
a son, the last of whom died in infancy. In April,
1824, he removed from Edinburgh, where he had
spent the most of his life, to Dollar, having accepted
the situation of professor of painting in the academy
founded at that village. In this scene, quite un-
suited to his mind, he spent the last five years of his
life, of which three were embittered in no ordinary
degree by ill health. After enduring with manly
and unshrinking fortitude the pains of an uncom-
monly severe malady, he expired, August 26, 1829,
in the forty-sixth year of his age.

Mr. Gibson was not more distinguished in public
by his information, taste, and professional success,
than he was in private by his upright conduct, his
mild and affectionate disposition, and his righteous
fulfilment of ever)- moral duty. He possessed great
talents in conversation, and could suit himself in
such a manner to ever)' kind of company that old
and young, cheerful and grave, were alike pleased.
He had an immense fund of humour, and what gave
it perhaps its best charm was the apparently unin-
tentional manner in which he gave it vent, and the
fixed serenity of countenance which he was able to
preser\-e while all were laughing around him. There
are few men in whom the elements of genius are so
admirably blended with those of true goodness, and
all that can render a man beloved, as they were in
Patrick Gibson.

GrLCHRIST, John Borthwick, LL.D. This
learned oriental scholar was bom at Edinburgh in
1759, and educated in George Heriot's Hospital,
an institution to which he bequeathed a liberal dona-
tion, in acknowledgment of the benefits he had
derived from it. Having studied for the medical
profession, and obtained the appointment of assist-
ant-surgeon in the East India Company's service,
he went out in that capacity to Calcutta. At this
period it was thought enough by the Company if
its officials possessed a tolerable knowledge of Per-
sian, the court language of India, in which the acts
of the Anglo-Indian government and the proceedings
of the legal tribunals were registered. But this
limited means of intercourse with the people under
our rule did not satisfy Dr. Gilchrist, and he saw,
that to hold intercourse with them, as the proper
means of governing and benefiting them, it was
necessary to possess a proper knowledge of the
various languages of Hindostan. To facilitate their
acquirement, and at the same time to set an example
to others, he assumed an eastern garb, and travelled
over those provinces where Hindostanee was spoken
in its greatest purity ; and besides the native lan-
guage in its various dialects, he obtained a complete
knowledge of the Sanskrit, Persian, and other eastern
tongues. His success in these attainments inspired
a new spirit in the Company's servants, and the study
of Hindostanee was pursued among them with a dili-
gence that had as yet been unknown. To facilitate
this hopeful commencement. Dr. Gilchrist published
in 1786 and 1790 his Anglo-Hindostanec Dictionary^

JOHN BORTIIWICK GILCHRIST.

107

and in 1796 his Hindostance Grammar. But a still
more favourable opportunity of communicating his
acquirements in oriental learning was furnished to
him in consequence of the foundation of the college
of Calcutta by the Marquis Wellesley, governor-
general of India, in 1800. On this occasion Dr.
Gilchrist was appointed to the chair of the Hindos-
tance and Persian languages, being the first appoint-
ment of the kind that had been made by our govern-
ment in India. He did not, however, long hold
this office, being compelled in consequence of ill
health to return home in 1S04. His departure from
India was accompanied with highly honourable tes-
timonials of the diligence and success of his labours,
and the estimation in which he was held. He re-
ceived from the governor-general in council a public
letter to the court of directors at home, recommend-
ing him to their favour in their endeavours to pro-
mote the study of the oriental languages. But be-
sides this, the marquis introduced him to Mr. Ad-
dington, aftenvards Lord Sidmouth, in a letter of
which the following is an extract: — "Mr. John
Gilchrist, late professor of the Hindostanee language
in the college of Fort William, will have the honour
of delivering this letter to you. The records of this
government furnish ample proof of the importance
of Mr. Gilchrist's services. I am anxious, however,
that you should be apprised of the personal interest
which I feel in Mr. Gilchrist's honourable reception
in England; and I take the liberty of recommending
him to your favourable notice, as a gentleman highly
distinguished for his zeal in the promotion of an
important branch of the public service, and for his
eminent knowledge of the oriental languages."

On returning home Dr. Gilchrist set up his re-
sidence in his native Edinburgh, and there his fiery
eastern temperament, his liberal opinions in politics,
which trenched upon republicanism, and his eccen-
tricity in conduct as well as opinions, astonished
the gravity of his wondering fellow-citizens. Being
too impatient to be idle, he instituted, in conjunc-
tion with Mr. James Inglis, a bank in the Scottish
capital, under the title of "Inglis, Borthwick Gil-
christ, & Co.;" but the other banks, doubtful of its
management, looked so unfavourably upon it, that
the establishment after some time was closed. He
set up an aviary at his house on the north side of
Nicholson Square, the building being largely trellised
with wire-work and stored with all manner of bright
and curious birds — and the natives, who gazed and
marvelled, thought it the strangest of Noah's arks,
or the best of raree shows. From his strong language,
especially at civic meetings, and his aptitude to take
offence, he was liable to be involved in serious quar-
rels; and on one occasion, in June, 1815, when a gen-
tleman was reading aloud in a coffee-room an
account of the victory of Waterloo, Dr. Gilchrist,
who was present, gave him the lie, and proclaimed
the intelligence to be false. This mortal offence
would probably have been followed by a deadly
meeting, had not the friends of both parties inter-
fered. Such was Dr. Gilchrist in Edinburgh, and
where these singularities were perhaps more vividly
remembered in later periods than his talents, his
kindliness, and benevolence, by which they were
more than counterpoised.

In 1 81 6 this learned orientalist left Edinburgh
to settle in London ; and here he found more con-
genial occupation, by teaching the eastern languages
in his own house to such young gentlemen as were
qualifying themselves for the Indian service. Two
years after his class was removed to the Oriental
Institution, Leicester Square, where he taught Hin-
dostanee and Persian under the sanction of the East

India Company. This connection, however, lasted
only six years, and its dissolution was probably
owing to incompatibility of temper between the
employers and the employed. Dr. Gilchrist was
not of a temper to brook contradiction or interfer-
ence. His mode of teaching was also apt to give
offence to the grave and the formal. At this time
his bushy head and whiskers were as white as the
Himalayan snow, and in such contrast to the active
expressive face which beamed from the centre of the
mass, that he was likened to a royal Bengal tiger
— a resemblance of which he was even proud. His lec-
tures also, which were extemporaneous, and governed
by the fitful impulses of the moment, were a singular
medley of "orient pearls at random strung;" but
still they were pearls of price, and those pupils who
were willing to learn were enriched by his prelec-
tions, however oddly delivered or illustrated. Nor
was his style of writing less strange than that of his
lecturing ; and besides the eccentricities of style and
innovations in orthography with which it astonished
the readers eye, the doctor had a sublime contempt
of capitals, which he had banished from his printed
compositions. These serious offences against the
common usages of good taste cannot be perpetrated
with impunity ; and those who might have been
attracted by the doctor's valuable erudition, were
offended by the adjuncts with which it was garnished.
In the meantime his publications, which were nume-
rous and valuable, and chiefly connected with the
languages, condition, and histor}' of India, were
mingled with pamphlets and broad-sheets filled with
his personal resentments, or expounding his own
crotchets. His chief subject of complaint was the
ill treatment he had received from the East India
Company, which had only allowed him a retiring
surgeon's pension of ;^300 instead of ;^500> ^"^ '^
salary of ;i^350 as a teacher of eastern languages,
which was greatly disproportioned, as he thought,
to his services. It was in this mood that the writer
of the present memoir found him in London some
forty years ago. Among those who were persistent
friends of Dr. Gilchrist, and knew his real talents,
was the late Joseph Hume, whose career had in some
cases been similar to his own. Both had commenced
their career as surgeons in India ; both had com-
menced their rise by the study of eastern languages,
which they turned to a profitable account ; both
had returned with a competence after a short stay
in the East; and they were heartily at one in perceiv-
ing the existing evils of government, and advocating
a reform. But here the similarity ended. Dn
Gilchrist unfortunately could not lay claim to the
temper, caution, management, and good sense by
which his more fortunate but not more talented
friend was distinguished.

While residing in Edinburgh, Dr Gilchrist had
married a Miss Mary Ann Coventry ; and on re-
moving to London, the pair, who had no children,
occupied a house in the fashionable locality of Clarges
Street. The doctor's means of living in such a place
were comfortable, not only from the extensive sale
of his principal works connected with India and its
languages, but also from the result of his banking
speculation in Edinburgh, which had turned out
better than could have been anticipated. After
he had given an impulse to the study of the eastern
tongues which has steadily increased to the present
day, and trained young cadets for the East India
service, whose proficiency reflected honour upon
their teacher, and by whom he was respected and
beloved. Dr. Gilchrist, worn out with the infirmities
of old age, lived in retirement, and died at Paris on
the 9th of January, 1 841, at the age of eighty-two years.

loS

ROBERT CILFILLAX,

GELFILLAN, Robert. This amiable poet of
domestic Yitc and popular song-writer, was bom in
Dunfermline, Fifeshire, on the Jihof July, 179S, and
was the second of three sons. His father was a man
of respectable condition, according to the reckoning
of the times in provincial towns, for he was a master
weaver, and kept several looms in full employment.
His mother, who died in 1S44, was justly character-
ized as " a woman of high intellectual powers, and
one who, belonging to the middle classes of society,
was distinguished by high literar)- acquirements,
united to a modesty that rather fostered the talents
of others than exhibited her own." Can we easily
imagine a poet of good, current, lasting songs, bom
in a loftier position, or independent of such a mater-
nity? Like most bards, and especially of this par-
ticular class, Robert Gilfillan's natural tendency was
called forth in early life, under the pressure of a
stirring public impulse. While still a boy, he had
joined a group of urchins like himself, to make merry
during the Christmas holidays with the sport of
giiisiii:^, OT guisarJiit^ — an old Saxon revel, scarcely
yet disused in Scotland, but which is now generally
supplanted by the drawing-room amusement of
charades; and while employed in this merry street
masquerade, instead of confining himself to the hun-
dred-year-old hackneyed stanzas about Alexander
the Great and Guloshin, he chanted a song of his
own composition on the death of Sir Ralph Aber-
cromby, at that time a recent event, and by which
the sympathies of everj- cottage in Scotland had been
roused into full native vigour. Young Gilfillan on
this occasion received more than the usual poet's
meed of pence and praise from the goodwives of
Dunfermline, who listened at their doors in silent
admiration.

After this sudden outburst of rhyme a long in-
terval succeeded: school-boy trials, and the suc-
ceeding cares and difficulties of apprenticeship, are
generally sufficient to banish the Muses for years, if
not for life; and Robert Gilfillan, who at the age of
thirteen removed with his parents to Leith, was
employed during a seven years' service in the un-
poetical occupation of hammering tubs and barrels,
having been bound apprentice for that period to a
cooper. Although he manfully endured this pro-
bation, he abandoned the trade of a cooper as soon
as his term of indenture had expired ; and, returning
to Dunfennline in iSiS, he was employed for nearly
three years in the superintendence of a grocerj- esta-
blishment Here his first love retumed upon him in
full \-igour, and his attempts in song-writing were
accompanied with the work of self-improvement,
which he prosecuted not only by general reading,
but associating with the young men of his neigh-
bourhood who were like-minded with himself In
this way not only his acquired knowledge, but his
conversational power in the use of it, made him
distinguished in Dunfermline society, and caused
him to be regarded as one whose future career would
surpass that of his companions. After this he again
settled in Leith, where he was first employed in the
warehouse of a firm of oil and colour merchants, and
subsequently in that of a wine merchant, as confi-
dential clerk, until 1837, when he was appointed
collector of the police-rates at Leith, which situa-
tion he held till the close of his life.

In this way Mr. Gilfillan held onward in his course,
and fulfilled his mission as a useful member of society;
but as a poet he had continued during his several
changes of store-keeper, clerk, and tax-gatherer, to
labour for a wider sphere and a more permanent
memorial. The first earnest of this he enjoyed in
the popularity of his songs, which, although still

unpublished, were circulated over the whole of Scot-
land, and sung not only at public festivals, but also
at social and domestic meetings. How was it pos-
sible, under sueh circumstances, to resist the tempta-
tions of the press? It speaks much, however, for
his self-denial, that he did not yield until he had
attained the matured reflective age of thirty-three,
and when his songs had stood the test of years. In
I S3 1 he became an author, by publishing a small
volume of about 150 pages, under the title of Origi-
nal Scvigs, which he dedicated to Allan Cunningham,
himself, ne.xt to Burns, the prince of Scottish song-
poets. So successful was this appeal to public ap-
probation, that in 1835 he brought out a new edition,
increased by fifty additional pieces ; and soon after
its appearance a public dinner was given to him in
the Royal Exchange, Edinburgh, and a massive
silver cup presented to him on the occasion thus
inscribed: — "Presented to Mr. Robert Gilfillan by
the admirers of native genius, in token of their high
estimation of his poetical talents and private worth.
Edinburgh, 1835." In 1839 he published a third
and still larger edition of his original volume, sixty
new songs being added to the collection; and by this
completed work he will continue to hold an hon-
oured place in the third rank of Scottish song-writers
— Bums being of the first, and standing alone, and
Hogg and Cunningham being taken as the repre-
sentatives of the second. In addition to those warm
but simple and narrowed home affections which
formed the chief themes of his hiics, and in the
delineation of which he has not often been surpassed,
there is a moral purity in the songs of Gilfillan in
-which he has very- seldom been equalled. But how,
indeed, could it be otherwise, when we take into
account the ordeal to which he submitted them?
"It was his practice," says his biographer, "to read
to his mother and sister his songs as he wrote them;
and he was entirely guided by their judgment re-
garding them. " This was better still than the house-
keeper of Moliere ! One circumstance connected
with this gentle home tribunal of criticism first gave
him the hope that fame was within his reach. He
was reading his Fare ihee well, for I must Leave thee,
when his sister and a young lady, a cousin of his
own, who was present, were so deeply affected, that
they burst into tears. - After such an incident some
of our readers might wish to know the song: it is as
follows: —

" Fare thee well, for I must leave thee,
But, 01 let not our parting grieve thee;
Happier days may yet be mine,
At least 1 wish them thine — believe mc!

" We part — but by those dew-drops clear,
My love for thee will last for ever;
I leave thee — but thy image dear.
Thy tender smiles, will leave me never.

" O I drj- those pearly tears that flow —
One farewell smile before we sever;
The only balm for parting woe
Is — fondly hope 'tis not forever.

"Though dark and drear>- lowers the night,
Calm and serene may be the morrow;
The cup of pleasure ne'er shone bright.
Without some mingling drops of sorrow!

'- Fare thee well, for I must leave thee.
But, O! let not our parting grieve thee;
Happier days may yet be mine.
At least I wish them thine — believe me!"

The rest of the incidents in Mr. Gilfillan's tran-
quil life scarcely require commemoration. Indepen-
dently of his devotion to poetrv-, which was his master
affection, he took pleasure in the various departments
of light and ever)--day literature, and was a frequent
contributor to the Edinburgh Jcunial and the Dublin
University Magazine. Although he continued to the

GEORGE GILLESPIE.

109

end of his clays a bachelor, he was not the less sub-
ject to pahifui bereavements, and these, too, at that
period of life when the affections are most confirmed;
for his mother died in 1S44, '^^^ ^^'s sister in 1849,
and thus the voices that liad hitherto cheered him
onward were no longer heard. Mis own death
occurred on the 4th of December, 1850, and was
occasioned by a stroke of apoplexy. Ilis remains
were buried in the churchyard of South Leilh, where
a monument, by the subscription of his admirers,
has been erected to his memory.

V

GILLESPIE, George, an eminent divine at a
time when divines were nearly the most eminent
class of individuals in Scotland, was the son of the
Rev. John Gillespie, minister at Kirkcaldy, and was
born^January 21, 1613. His advance in his studies
was so rapid, that he was laureated in his seven-
teenth year. About the year 1634, when he must
have still been very young, he is known to have
been chaplain to Viscount Kenmure: at a subsequent
period he lived in the same capacity with the Earl
of Cassilis. While in the latter situation he wrote
a work called English Popish Ccretnonies, in which,
as the title implies, he endeavoured to excite a
jealousy of the episcopal innovations of Charles I.,
as tending to Popery. This book he published when
he was about twenty-two years of age, and it was
soon after prohibited by the bishops. Had Episco-
pacy continued triumphant, it is likely that Mr.
Gillespie's advance in the church would have been
retarded; but the signing of the national covenant
early in 1638 brought about a different state of
things. In April that year, a vacancy occurring at
Wemyss in Fife, he was appointed minister; and at
the General Assembly which took place at Glasgow
in the ensuing November, he had the honour to
preach one of the daily sermons before the house,
for which he took as his text, "The king's heart is
in the hands of the Lord." The Earl of Argyle,
who had then just joined the covenanting cause, and
was still a member of the privy-council, thought
that the preacher had trenched a little, in this dis-
course, upon the royal prerogative, and said a few
words to the assembly, with the intention of warning
them against such errors for the future.

In 1 64 1 an attempt was made to obtain the trans-
portation of Air. Gilliespie to Aberdeen; but the
General Assembly, in compliance with his own
wishes, ordained him to remain at Wemyss. When
the king visited Scotland in the autumn of this year,
Mr. Gillespie preached before him in the Abbey
Church at Edinburgh, on the afternoon of Sunday
the 1 2th of September. In the succeeding year he
was removed by the General Assembly to Edinburgh,
of which he continued to be one of the stated clergy-
men till his death. Mr. Gillespie had the honour
to be one of the four ministers deputed by the Scot-
tish church, in 1543, to attend the Westminster
Assembly of Divines; and it is generally conceded
that his learning, zeal, and judgment were of the
greatest service in carrying through the work of that
venerable body, particularly in forming the Directory
of Worship, the Catechisms, and other important
articles of religion, which it was the business of the
assembly to prepare and sanction. Baillie thus al-
ludes to him in his letters: "We got good help in
our assembly debates of Lord Warriston, an occa-
sional commissioner, but of none more than the
noble youth Mr. Gillespie. I admire his gifts, and
bless God, as for all my colleagues, so for him
in particular, as equal in these to the first in the
assembly." It appears that Mr. Gillespie composed
six volumes of manuscript during the course of his

attendance at the Westminster Assembly; and these
were extant in 1707,' though we are not aware of
their still continuing in existence. He had also,
when in England, prepared his sermons for the
press— part being controversial, and part practical;
l)ut they are said to have been suppressed in the
hands of the printer with whom he left them, through
tlie instrumentality of the Independents, who dreaded
their publication. He also wrote a piece against
toleration, entitled Wholesome Sci'cri/y Reconciled
zcilh Christian Liberty.

In 1648 Mr. Gillespie had the honour to be
moderator of the General Assembly; and the last of
his compositions was the Conunission of the A'irk^s
Ans7C'cr to tlie Estates' Observations on the Declaration
of the General Assejubly concerning the Unlawfulness
of the Engagement. For some months before this
assembly he had been greatly reduced in body by a
cough and perspiration, which now at length came
to a height, and threatened fatal consequences.
Thinking perhaps that his native air would be of
service, he went to Kirkcaldy with his wife, and lived
there for some months; but his illness nevertheless
advanced so fast, that, early in December, his friends
despaired of his life, and despatched letters to his
brother, to Mr. Samuel Rutherford, the Marquis of
Argyle, and other distinguished individuals, who
took an interest in him, mentioning that if they
wished to see him in life, speed would be necessar)'.
The remainder of his life may be best related in the
words of Wodrow, as taken, in I707) from the mouth
of Mr. Patrick Simpson, who was cousin to Mr.
Gillespie, and had witnessed the whole scene of his
death-bed:

"Monday, December II, came my Lord Argyle,
Cassils, Elcho, and Warriston, to visit him. He
did faithfully declare his mind to them as public
men, in that point whereof he hath left a testimony
to the view of the world, as afterwards; and though
speaking was very burdensome to him, and trouble-
some, yet he spared not very freely to fasten their
duty upon them.

"The exercise of his mind at the time of his sick-
ness was very sad and constant, without comfortable
manifestations, and sensible presence for the time;
yet he continued in a constant faith of adherence,
which ended in ane adhering assurance, his gripps
growing still the stronger.

"One day, a fortnight before his death, he had
leaned down on a little bed, and taken a fit of faint-
ness, and his mind being heavily exercised, and
lifting up his eyes, this expression fell with great
weight from his mouth, ' O ! my dear Lord, forsake
me not for ever.' His weariness of this life was
very great, and his longing to be relieved, and to be
where the vail would be taken away.

"December 14, he was in heavy sickness, and
three pastors came in the afternoon to visit him, of
whom one said to him, 'The Lord hath made you
faithfid in all he hath employed you in, and it's
likely we be put to the trial; therefore what encourage-
ment do you give us thereanent?' Whereto he an-
swered, in few words, 'I have gotten more by tiie
Lord's immediate assistance than by study, in the
disputes I had in the assembly of divines in England;
therefore, let never men distrust God for assistance,
that cast themselves on him, and follow his calling.
For my part, the time I have had in the exercise of
the ministry is but a moment !' To which sentence
another pastor answered, 'But your moment hath
exceeded the gray heads of others; this I may speak
without flattery.' To which he answered, disclaim-

1 Wodrow's Analecia (MS. Adv. Lib.), i. 329.

THOMAS GILLESPIE.

ing it with a noe; for he desired still to have Christ
exalted, as he said at the same time, and to another;
and at other times, when any such thing was spoken
to him, ' What are all my righteousnesses but rotten
rags? all that I liave done cannot abide the touch-
stone of His justice; they are all but abominations,
and as an unclean thing, when they are reckoned
between God and me. Christ is all things, and I
am nothing.' The other pastor, when the rest were
out, asked whether he was enjoying the comforts of
God's presence, or if they were for a time suspended.
He answered, 'Indeed, they are suspended.' Then
within a little while he said, 'Comforts I ay comforts!'
meaning that they were not easily attained. His
wife said, 'What reck? the comfort of believing is
not suspended ?' He said, 'Noe.' Speaking further
to his condition he said, 'Although that I should
never more see any light of comfort, that I do see,
yet I shall adhere, and do believe that he is mine
and that I am his.' "

Mr. Gillespie lingered two days longer, and ex-
pired almost imperceptibly, December 1 6, 1646.
On the preceding day he had written and signed a
paper, in which ' ' he gave faithful and clear testi-
mony to the work and cause of God, and against the
enemies thereof, to stop the mouths of calumniators,
and confirm his children." The object of the paper
was to prevent, if possible, any union of the friends
of the Church of Scotland with the loyalists, in be-
half of an uncovenanted monarch. The committee
of estates testified the public gratitude to Mr. Gil-
lespie by voting his widow and children ;,{^iooo,
which, however, from the speedily ensuing troubles
of the times, was never paid.

GILLESPIE, Rev. Tho.m.\s, was the first Relief
minister, and founder of the synod of Relief. He
was born in the year 1708, at Clearbum, in the parish
of Duddingstone near Edinburgh, of parents distin-
guished for their piety. He lost his father, who was
a farmer and brewer, when he was very young. His
mother, who seems to have been a woman of decided
piety, and at the same time of active business habits,
continued her husband's business as farmer and
brewer after his death. Gillespie, who was of de-
licate constitution and melancholy temperament,
seems throughout life to have been marked by the
shyness of disposition, the reserved manners, the
fondness for retirement, and the tenderness yet con-
scientiousness of feeling, which usually distinguish the
boy brought up in a retired domestic way, under a
fond and widowed mother. His mother was ac-
customed to attend the services at the dispensation
of the Lord's supper by Mr. Wilson of Maxton, Mr.
Boston of Ettrick, Mr. Davidson of Galashiels,
and other eminent evangelical ministers, with whom
the south of Scotland was at that time favoured.
On these occasions she commonly took with her
her son Thomas, in whom the anxious mother had
not yet traced those satisfactory evidences of decisive
piety which her maternal regard for his best interests
so earnestly desired; on one of these occasions she
mentioned her distress on account of her son to Mr.
Boston, who, at her request, spoke to him in private
on his eternal interests.. His counsels made a de-
cisive impression upon the mind of Gillespie, at that
time a young man about twenty years of age, and
led him soon after to commence his studies as prepa-
ratory to the ministry', which he prosecuted at the
university of Edinburgh.

After the origin of the Secession his mother be-
came attached to that body; and through her advice
and influence Gillespie went to Perth to study under
Mr. Wilson, their first theological professor. In

this step he seems to have been influenced more by
a desire to comply with the wishes of a fond and
pious mother, than by personal attachment to the
peculiarities of the Secession. His whole stay at
Perth was ten days; for as soon as from conversa-
tions with Mr. Wilson he fully comprehended the
principles on which the Secession were proceeding,
he withdrew. He proceeded to England, where he
pursued his studies at the theological academy in
Northampton, at that time superintended by the
celebrated Dr. Philip Doddridge. When he thus
went to England Dr. Erskine states (in his preface
to his Essay on Temptations) that he had attended
the humanity, philosophy, and divinity classes in the
college of Edinburgh, and that he carried with him
attestations of his personal piety and acquirements
in philosophical and theological literature from
several ministers of the Church of Scotland: viz. Rev.
Messrs. Davidson of Galashiels, Wilson of Maxton,
Wardlaw of Dunfermline, Smith of Xewburn, Gust-
hart, Webster, and Hepburn, of Edinburgh, James
Walker of Canongate, M 'Vicar of West Kirk, Kid
of Queensferr)', Bonnar of Torphichen, and Ward-
rope of Whitburn — all of whom mention their having
been intimately acquainted with him.

After the usual trials, he was licensed to preach
the gospel, 30th October, 1740, by a respectable
class of English dissenters, among whom Dr. Dod-
dridge presided as moderator, and ordained to the
work of the ministry, 22d January, 1741. It is said
that his first charge was over a dissenting congrega-
tion in the north of England. If so, it must have
been for a very short time, for in March following
he returned to Scotland, bringing with him warm
and ample recommendations from Dr. Doddridge,
Mr. Job Orton, and thirteen other ministers in that
neighbourhood, "as a deeply experienced Christian,
well qualified for the important work of the ministr}',
and one who bade fair to prove an ornament to his
holy profession, and an instrument of considerable
usefulness to the souls of men."

Soon after his return to Scotland he got a regular
call to the parish of Carnock near Dunfermline, to
which he was presented by Mr. Erskine of Carnock.
At that time the forms of procedure in the Church of
Scotland seem to have been not so strict and un-
accommodating to circumstances as they are now; for
in inducting him into Carnock the presbytery of
Dunfermline proceeded on his deed of license and
ordination by the English dissenters as valid, and
dealt by him as one who had already held a charge.
At his admission into Carnock he showed the influ-
ence which his theological education at Northampton,
and his intercourse with the English dissenters had
exerted upon his opinions as to Christian liberty, by
objecting to the doctrine of the Confession of Faith
respecting the power of the civil magistrate in reli-
gion; he was permitted to subscribe with an expla-
nation of his meaning upon this point. The passages
of the Confession to which he objected were the 4th
section of the 20th chapter, and the 3d section of the
23d chapter: which declare that those may be pro-
ceeded against by the power of the civil magis-
trate who publish such opinions, or maintain such
practices, as are contrary to the light of nature, the
known principles of Christianity, or the power of
godliness, or which are destructive to the external
peace and order which Christ hath established in the
church ; and that the civil magistrate hath authority,
and it is his duty, to take order that unity and peace
be preserved in the church, that the truth of God
be kept pure and entire, that all blasphemies and
heresies, all corruptions and abuses in worship
and discipline, be prevented or reformed, and all

THOMAS GILLESPIE.

the ordinances of God duly settled, administered,
and observed, for the better effecting of which he
liath power to call synods, to be present at them,
and to provide that whatever is transacted in them
be according to the mind of God.

Mr. Gillespie laboured as parish minister of Car-
nock till the year 1752. He was a careful student,
a diligent and faithful minister, and generally ac-
ceptable and useful in his pulpit labours, both in his
own parish and as an occasional assistant elsewhere.
The acceptance which his pulpit discourses met was
not owing to any advantage of manner, for his de-
livery was uncouth, and his whole manner that of
one nervously afraid of his audience. Hut he was
solemn and affectionate, much impressed himself as
conscious of his awful charge. He had struggled
hard himself against the oppression of a constitutional
tendency to despondency; and in his discourses he
sought especially to comfort and counsel the de-
sponding and tempted Christian. Dr. John Erskine,
who was several months his stated hearer, and who
besides this often heard him occasionally, bears
witness in his preface to Mr. Gillespie's Essay on
the Continuance of hnmcdiate Rez'elations in^ the
Church, that "he studied in his ministry what was
most needful for the bulk of his hearers, giving law
and gospel, comfort and terror, privileges and duties,
their proper place. I never (says he) sat under a
ministry better calculated to awaken the thoughtless
and secure, to caution convinced sinners against
what would stifle their convictions and prevent their
issuing in conversion, and to point out the difference
between vital Christianity and specious counterfeit
appearances of it."

During the eleven years that Mr. Gillespie occu-
pied the charge of Carnock he kept close to the
humble and unostentatious yet useful duties of the
pastor of a country parish. He seems never to have
taken any prominent part in the business of the
church courts: he was, both from habit and disposi-
tion, retiring and reserved, fond of the studies of
the closet, but destitute alike of the ability and the
inclination for managing public affairs, and leading
the van in ecclesiastical warfare. It was his scrupu-
lous conscientiousness, not his ambition, that made
him the founder of a party. He was thrust on it by
circumstances beyond his intention.

Mr. Gillespie entered the ministry in the Church
of Scotland when the harsh operation of the law
of patronage was causing painful and lamentable
contests between the people and the dominant party
in the church courts. It had already caused the
secession ; and there still remained in the Church
of Scotland many elements of discord and sources
of heart-burning ; whole presbyteries even refused
to act when the settlement of obnoxious presentees
was enjoined by the superior courts — and to effect
the execution of their sentences appointing the
settlement of unpopular individuals, the General
Assembly had at times wholly to supersede the func-
tions of the presbytery, and appoint the induction
to be completed by committees of individuals not
connected with the presbytery; it might be men who,
without scruple, were willing to act on whatever was
ecclesiastical law, and carry through the matter in-
trusted to their care in the face of the menaces or
murmurs of a dissatisfied and protesting people.

This method of settling obnoxious presentees by
riding committees, as they were called in those days
by the populace, was confessedly a most irregular
and unconstitutional device. It was a clumsy ex-
pedient to avoid coming in direct collision with re-
cusant presbyteries. It was found to answer the
purpose very imperfectly; and it was soon seen that

there remained to the General Assembly but two
alternatives, either to soften the operation of the
law of patronage, and give way to the popular voice,
or to compel the presbyteries to settle every man
who received a presentation, against whom heresy
or immorality could not be proved; otherwise there
would be perpetual collision between themselves
and the inferior courts. The assembly chose the
latter and the bolder alternative. In 1750, accord-
ingly, the assembly referred it to their commission,
"to consider of a method for securing the execution
of the sentences of the assembly and commission,
and empowered them to censure any presbyteries
which might be disobedient to any of the sentences
pronounced by that meeting of assembly."

In 1 75 1 Mr. Andrew Richardson, previously
settled at Broughton, in the parish of Biggar, was
presented to the charge of Inverkeithing by the
patron of the parish. He was unacceptable to the
body of the people, and his call was signed only by
a few non-resident heritors. Opposition being made
to his settlement by the parishioners, the presbyteiy
of Dunfermline, and after them the synod of Fife,
refused to comply with the orders of the commission
to proceed to the settlement of Mr. Richardson.
The case came before the assembly in 1752; and it
was justly anticipated that it would bring to an issue
the conflict between recusant presbyteries, who had
a conscientious regard for the rights of the people,
and the dominant party in the assembly, who had
no regard for them, but were resolved to give effect
to every presentation. The lord-commissioner, the
Earl of Leven, in his opening speech, with sufficient
plainness indicated the course of procedure which
the government desired and expected the assembly
should pursue, in the circumstances; and said that
it was more than high time to put a stop to the
growing evil of inferior courts assuming the liberty
of disputing and disobeying their decisions. The
ruling party in the assembly were prompt in obey-
ing these orders of the lord-commissioner. They
acted with more energy than prudence or tenderness.
When the Inverkeithing case came to be considered,
the assembly sent the presbytery from their bar to
Inverkeithing with orders to complete Mr. Richard-
son's induction: they enjoined every member of pres-
bytery to be present at the admission: they changed
the legal quorum from three to five. These orders
were issued by the assembly on Monday; the induc-
tion was appointed to take place on Thursday, and
the members of the presbyteiy were all commanded
to appear at the bar of the assembly on Friday, to
report their fulfilment of these orders.

On Friday, when the members of the Dunfermline
presbytery were called upon, it appeared that only
three had attended at Inverkeithing, and they not
being the number required by the decision of the
assembly to constitute a presbytery, did not feel
themselves authorized to proceed to the admission.
Of the other six, Mr. Gillespie and other five pleaded
conscientious scruples, and gave in a paper in defence
of their conduct, quoting in their justification the
language of the assembly itself, who in 1736 had
declared that "it is, and has been ever since the
Reformation, the principle of the church, that no
minister shall be introduced into any parish contrary
to the will of the congregation; and therefore it is
seriously recommended to all judicatories of the
church, to have a due regard to the said principle
in planting vacant congregations, so as none be in-
truded into such parishes, as they regard the glory
of God, and the edification of the body of Christ."

The assembly paid small regard to their own
former declarations thus brought under their notice.

THOMAS GILLESPIE.

They felt, indeed, that it would be rather trenchant
and severe, by one fell swoojj to depose six ministers
all equally guilty : they resolved, however, by a
majority, to depose one of the six. This was inti-
mated to them with orders to attend on the morrow.
Next day Mr. Gilles[)ie gave in a paper justifying
a statement made in their joint representation, tliat
the assembly had themselves stigmatized the act
of 1712, restoring patronages, as an infraction of
the settlement made at the union. The proof of this
statement, which had been questioned in the previous
day's debate, he proved by quotations from the
assembly's act of 1736, made at the time when they
wished to lure back and reconcile the four seceding
brethren — the founders of the Secession.

After prayer to God for direction — which, in the
circumstances of the case, and in the predetermined
state of mind in which the ruling party in the assem-
bly were, was a profane mockery of Heaven — they
proceeded to decide which of the six should be de-
posed. A great majority of the assembly (102)
declined voting; 52 voted that Mr. Gillespie should
bs deposed, and 4 that some one of the others
should be taken. The moderator then pronounced
the sentence of deposition on Mr. Gillespie. He
stood at the bar to receive it, and when he had
heard it to an end, with the meek dignity of con-
scious innocence, replied, "Moderator, I receive
this sentence of the General Assembly of the Church
of Scotland with reverence and awe on account of
the divine conduct in it. But I rejoice that it is
given to me on the behalf of Christ, not only to be-
lieve on him, but to suffer for his sake."

This hard measure dealt to him excited general
commiseration and sympathy even among the min-
isters of the church. He was humble and unassum-
ing, a quiet, retired student, not one versant in the
warfare of church courts. Sir H. Moncrieff, in his
Life of Dr. Erskine, testifies that he was one of the
most inoffensive and upright men of his time, equally
zealous and faithful in his pastoral duties, but one
who never entered deeply into ecclesiastical business,
and who was at no time a political intriguer. His
sole crime was, that from a conscientious feeling,
he would not be present or take any active part in
a violent settlement, and they must be strangely
fond of stretches of ecclesiastical power who will
pronounce the deposition of such a man in such
circumstances either praiseworthy or wise.

The sentence of deposition was pronounced on Sa-
turday. On Sabbath, the day following, he preached
in the fields at Carnock to his people, from the
words of Paul, "For necessity is laid upon me, yea,
woe is unto me if I preach not the gospel." He
told his hearers, that though the assembly had de-
posed him from being a member of the Established
church, for not doing what he belived it was sinful
for him to do, yet he hoped, through grace, no public
disputes should be his theme, but Jesus Christ and
him crucified,^ and then went on to illustrate his
text, without saying anything in justification of him-
self or in condemnation of the assembly.

He preached in the fields till the month of Sep-
tember, when he removed to the neighbouring town
of Dunfermline, where a church had been prepared
for him. At the following meeting of assembly,
in 17535 firi attempt was made by the evangelical
party in the church to have the sentence of deposi-
tion rescinded; but though some of those who voted
for his deposition, stung by their own consciences,
or moved by sympathy, expressed their regret in

1 Dr. Erskine's Preface to his Essay on Temptations.

very poignant language," yet the motion was lost by
a majority of three.

He laboured in Dunfermline for five years with-
out any ministerial assistance, and during that period
he dispensed the sacrament of the Lord's supper
thirteen times, preaching on these occasions com-
monly nine sermons, besides the exhortations at the
tables. When he first determined to celebrate the
Lord's supper in his congregation at Dunfermline,
he requested the assistance of some of the evangeli-
cal ministers in the Church of Scotland ; but from
fear of the censures of the assembly, they refused him
their aid.

The first minister who joined Mr. Gillespie in his
separation from the Church of Scotland, was Mr.
Boston, son of the well-known author of the Four-
fold State. The parish of Jedburgh becoming vacant,
the people were earnestly desirous that Mr. Boston,
who was minister of Oxnam, and a man of eminently
popular talents, might be presented to the vacant
charge. No attention, however, was paid to their
wishes. The people of Jedburgh took their redress
into their own hands, they built a church for them-
selves, and invited Mr. Boston to become their min-
ister; and he resigning his charge at Oxnam, and
renouncing his connection with the Church of Scot-
land, cheerfully accepted their invitation. He was
settled among them 9th December, 1757. He im-
mediately joined Mr. Gillespie, to whom he was
an important acquisition, from his popular talents
and extensive influence in the south of Scotland.
Though associated together, and lending mutual
aid, they did not proceed to any acts of ecclesiastical
government, till, by a violent settlement in the parish
of Kilconquhar, in P'ife, the people were led to erect
a place of worship for themselves in the village of
Colinsburgh, to which they invited as their pastor
the Rev. Thomas Collier, a native of the district, who
had for some time been settled at Kavenstondale,
in Northumberland, in connection with the English
dissenters. At his admission to the charge of the
congregation formed in Colinsburgh, on the 22d of
October, 1761, Mr. Gillespie and Mr. Boston, with
an elder from their respective congregations, first
met as a presbytery. In the minute of that meeting
they rehearsed the circumstances connected with their
separation from the Church of Scotland, and declared
that they had formed themselves into a presbytery
for the relief of Christians oppressed in their privi-
leges.

The number of congregations in connection with
the Relief rapidly increased. It afforded an asylum
for those who desired to have the choice of their own
ministers, yet could not accede to the peculiarities
of the Secession. Relief from patronage, the asser-
tion of the people's right to choose their own min-
isters, the extending of their communion to all visible
saints, to all sound in the faith and of holy life —
these were the distinguishing peculiarities which
marked the Relief They were distinguished from
the two bodies of the Secession by their permission
of occasionally attending the ministry of other
churches, their disregard of the covenants sworn
by our Scottish ancestors, their neglect of the duty
of covenanting, and their not restricting their com-
munion to their own Christian societies.. These
peculiarities provoked the reproaches of the Seces-
sion writers of the day. In the progress of time, how-
ever, a large section of the Seceders came to be of
one mind with their Relief brethren on all matters
of doctrine and discipline. In the year 1847 the two

- Memoir of Gillespie, in the Quarterly Magazine, by Dr.
Stuart.

THOMAS GILLESPIE —

bodies were joined together under the designation
of the United Presbyterian Church. This respect-
able denomination now (iS66) numbers 5SS congre-
gations, with an aggregate attendance of 460,000 per-
sons. The Relief and United Secession churches were
both opposed to the principle of an established
church ; and although the voluntary principle of the
United Presbyterian church is not formally avowed
in her standards, it is distinctly implied in her posi-
tion and actings.

It has been said that Gillespie cooled in his at-
tachment to the Relief in the latter part of his life,
and that he even expressed a wish that his congrega-
tion should join the Established church as a chapel
of ease. This last assertion is certainly questionable.
It has been contradicted by Mr. Smith in his His-
torical Skdchcs of the Relief Church, who, holding
a charge in Dunfermline, and living among the per-
sonal associates of Gillespie, may be reckoned a
competent witness as to what was known of Mr.
Gillespie's sentiments. He states that the church
and part of the congregation were carried over to
the Establishment by the undue influence and re-
presentations of Mr. Gillespie's brother; and that
Mr. Gillespie had no difference with his brethren
as to the constitution and principles of the Relief
church. He never discovered to his people any
inclination to be connected again with the Establish-
ment. His disapprobation of the church which
deposed him continued to the end of his days. He
was, however, dissatisfied with some of his brethren
for the willingness they showed to listen to the ap-
plication of Mr. Perrie (1770) to be received into
the body. Perhaps, too, his being thrown into the
shade in the conduct of the public affairs of the
body, by the active business habits of Mr. Bain,
after his accession to the Relief, might heighten his
chagrin. These circumstances, operating on the
tenderness of temper incident to old age and increas-
ing infirmities, seem to have created in his mind
a degree of dissatisfaction with some of his brethren;
but that he repented -of the steps he had taken in
the formation of the presbytery of Relief, or that
he had changed his sentiments on the terms of com-
munion, on the impropriety of the civil magistrate's
interference in ecclesiastical affairs, or similar points,
there is no evidence.

The only productions of Gillespie that have been
published are. An Essay on the Continuance of Im-
mediate Rez'elations in the Church, published in his
lifetime, and a Treatise on Temptation, in 1774, after
his death, both prefaced by Dr. J. Erskine of Edin-
burgh. The first is designed to prove that God does
not now give to any individuals, by impressions,
dreams, or otherwise, intimations of facts or future
events. He argues the point solidly and sensibly,
and with some ingenuity. From his correspondence
it appears that the topic had occupied his thoughts
much. He corresponded with Doddridge, Harvey,
and President Edwards; and his correspondence with
Edwards was published in the Quarterly ^Magazine,
conducted by Dr. Stuart, son-in-law to Dr. Erskine.
Mr. Gillespie always prepared carefully for the pul-
pit. He left in MS. about 800 sermons, fairly and
distinctly written. He died on the 19th of January,
1774-

GILLESPIE, Rev. Thomas, D.D., was bom

in the parish of Clossbum, Dumfriesshire, but in
what year we have been unable to ascertain. He
received the rudiments of education at the celebrated
seminary of Wallacehall, in his own native parish,
and afterwards went through the curriculum of the
Dumfries Academy, a place noted for its excellence

VOL. II.

WILLIAM GILLESPIE.

"3

among the educational establishments of Scotland.
Having been designed for the church, Mr. Gillespie
enrolled as a student in the university of Edinburgh;
and after having been distinguished in the divinity-
hall by his talents and scholarship, was licensed as
a preacher, and a few years afterwards was presented
by the United College, St. Andrews, to the parish
of Cults, in the presbytery of Cupar-Fife. In this
ministerial charge he was the immediate successor of
the Rev. David Wilkie, father of the celebrated
painter; and, on taking possession of his manse lie
was grieved to find that, in the process of cleaning
and white-washing, the sketches with which Sir
David Wilkie, when a little boy, had covered the
walls of his nursery, were remorselessly swept away.
To a man of Gillespie's taste and enthusiasm it
seemed as if his entrance into a peaceful home had
been preceded by an onslaught of the Vandals; but
after settling in Cults he made many inquiries into
the early history of Sir David, which he communi-
cated to Allan Cunningham, the artist's eloquent
biographer. Over the portal of the manse, also, in
imitation of Gil Bias, he afterwards cars'ed that
couplet of the Latin poet—

Inveni portum, spes et fortuna valete:
Sat me lusistis, ludite nunc alios."

This final good-bye to hope and fortune, however,
was somewhat premature; for having been appointed
assistant and successor to Dr. John Hunter, professor
of humanity in St. Andrews, whose daughter Mr.
Gillespie had married, he relinquished the minis-
terial charge of Cults, and became a resident in the
ancient town of St. Andrews.

In his capacity of a country divine, and after^vards
as a professor, Mr. Gillespie was distinguished by
superior talent, both as an able writer and ready
eloquent speaker. His chief work was a volume of
sermons on the Seasons; but his contributions to some
of our best newspapers and journals, both in prose
and verse, showed how high a rank he might have
attained as an author had he devoted his labours to
this department. But his productions through the
press were the light buoyant sallies of an occasional
hour of leisure, as a relief from more important occu-
pations, rather than serious and continued efforts; and
as such they were read, admired, and forgot, amidst
the gay sparkling literature of the hour to which they
were contributed. It was in the pulpit as an elo-
quent persuasive divine, and in his university chair
as an effective teacher of classical literature, that his
whole energies were thrown forth; and when he died
a blank was left both in presbytery and college,
which his learned and reverend brethren felt would
not soon be filled up. Dr. Gillespie's death, which
was sudden, occurred at Dunino, on the llth of
September, 1844. He was twice married, and his
second wife was daughter of the Rev. Dr. Campbell,
formerly minister of Cupar, and sister of the Right
Hon. Lord John Campbell.

GILLESPIE, Rev. William, minister of Kelis
in Galloway, was the eldest son of the Rev. John
Gillespie, who preceded him in that charge; and was
born in the manse of the parish, February 18, 1776.
After receiving the rudiments of education at the
parish school, he entered the university of Edinburgh
in 1792, and was appointed tutor to Sir. Don, after-
wards Sir Alexander Don, Bart., in whose company
he was introduced to the most cultivated society.
While acting in this capacity, and at the same time
prosecuting his theological studies, he amused him-
self by writing verses, and at this time commenced
his poem entitled the Progress of Refinement, which
was not completed or published till some years after-

43

114

JOIIX GILLIES.

wards. Among other clubs and societies of wliich
he was a member may be instanced the Academy
of Physics, which compreliendcd Brougham, Jeffrey,
and other young men of the highest abilities, and of
which an account has already been given in our
article Dr. Thom.vs Brown. In iSoi, having for
some time completed his studies and obtained a
license as a preacher, he was ordained helper and
successor to his father, with the unanimous approba-
tion of the parish. Soon after he was invited by his
former pupil, Mr. Don, to accompany him in making
the tour of P^urope; and he had actually left home
for the purpose when the project was stopped by
intelligence of the renewal of the war with France.
In 1S05 Mr. Gillespie published the ^'Pivprss of
Refinement, an Allegorical Poem," intended to de-
scribe the advance of society in Britain from its
infancy to maturity, but which met with little success.
It was generally confessed that, though Mr. Gillespie
treated every subject in poetry with much taste and
no little feeling, he had not a sufficient amount of
inspiration, or that vivid fervour of thought which is
necessary, to reach the highest rank as a versifier.
In 1806, by the death of his father, he succeeded to
the full charge of the parish of Kells. For some
years afterwards he seems to have contented himself
in a great measure with discharging his duties as a
clerg)'man, only making occasional contributions to
periodical works, or communicating information to
the Highland Society, of which he was a zealous and
useful member. At length, in 181 5, he published,
in an octavo volume. Consolation and other Poems,
which, however, received only the same limited
measure of applause which had already been be-
stowed upon his P?vi:^ress of Refinement. Mr. Gil-
lespie, in July, 1825, married Miss Charlotte
Hoggan; but being almost immediately after seized
with erysipelas, which ended in general inflamma-
tion, he died, October 15, in the fiftieth year of his
age. As the character of this accomplished person
had been of the most amiable kind, his death was
very generally and very sincerely mourned: his bio-
grai">her, Mr. Murray, in his Literary History of
Galloiuay, states the remarkable fact, that, amidst
the many wet eyes which surrounded his grave,
"even the sexton — a character not in general noted
for soft feelings — when covering the remains of his
beloved pastor, sobbed and wept to such a degree
that he was hardly able to proceed with his trying
duty."

GILLIES, John, LL.D., F.R.S., F.A.S., mem-
ber of many foreign societies, and historiographer
to his majesty for Scotland. The many literary
titles of this enulite and once popular historian,
eviq,ce the high estimation in which he was held by
the learned men of his day. He was born at Bre-
chin, in the county of Forfar, on the i8th of January,
1747. Although of a family belonging to the
middling classes, he was not its only distinguished
member, as one of his younger brothers became an
eminent lawyer at the Scottish bar, and finally
attained the rank of lord of session. John Gillies
was educated at the university of Glasgow, and there
he so highly distinguished himself by his classical
attainments, that, before he was of age, he was ap-
pointed to teach the classes of the Greek professor,
who had been laid aside by old age and infirmity.
Instead of waiting, however, for those turns of for-
tune that might have elevated him to the chair which
he had filled as deputy, he repaired to London, for
the purpose of devoting himself to authorship. Before
he settled down in the metropolis he resolved still
further to qualify himself for his future occupation

by the study of the living languages; and for this
purpose he took up his residence for some time on
the Continent. Upon his return he was engaged by
the Earl of Ilopetoun to accompany his second son
as travelling tutor; and as it was necessary that he
should relinquish certain profitable literary engage-
ments into which he had already entered, before he
set out with his pupil, he was remunerated for the
sacrifice by the earl in 1777, who settled upon him
a pension for life. But in the year previous his young
charge died abroad; and a few years afterwards he
was induced to undertake the charge of two other
sons of the earl, who were abcnit to travel on the
Continent — one of theni being John, afterwards Sir
John Hope, and finally Earl of Ilopetoun, distin-
guished by his military achievements — the other,
Alexander, afterwards Sir Alexander Llope, lieu-
tenant-governor of Chelsea Hospital. During the
interval that elapsed between his first and second
tutorship, and when no such interniption was anti-
cipated, he had commenced the purposed business
of his life in earnest, by publishing his first work.
This was the " Orations of Lysias and Socrates, trans-
lated from the Greek, with some account of their
Lives; and a Discourse on the History, Manners,
and Character of the Greeks, from the conclusion of
the Peloponnesian War to the Battle of Chaeronea,"
1778, 4to. About the same time he received the
diploma of LL.D., the first of his literary distinc-
tions.

On returning from the Continent, when his office
of travelling-tutor had ended, which it did in 1784,
Dr. Gillies resumed those labours which were so
congenial to his tastes and habits, and which were
now continued to the end of a very long life. His
previous duties had not only furnished him with such
a competence as to make him independent of the
many painful contingencies to which authorship as a
profession is subject, but had closely connected him
with the Hopetoun family, to whose early patronage
and continuing kindness he was wont to attribute
much of the happiness by wliich his tranquil course
was enlivened. Two years after his return to Eng-
land he published the first portion of the work by
which he is best known, entitled the '■''History of
Ancient Greece, its Colonies and Conquests, from
the Earliest Accounts till the Division of the Mace-
donian Empire in the East; including the History of
Literature, Philosophy, and the Fine Arts," 2 vols.
4to, 1786. This work, which was continued in a
second part, was so acceptable to the scholars of
Germany, that a translation of it into German was
published at Vienna in 1825, while at home it was
so popular that it went through several editions.
Time, however, which has so much diminished the
lustre that invested the literature and science of the
last century, has not spared his history any more
than it has done the more distinguished productions
of Flume and Gibbon; and Gillies, the once distin-
guished historian of Greece, is now subjected to an
ordeal through which few of his contemporaries have
passed unscathed. Newer and juster views, the fruit
of a more ample experience and sounder philosophy;
a more extensive knowledge of Grecian history and
antiquity, and a more rigid and severe taste in his-
torical writing, by which the present day is in the
habit of judging the labours of the past, will no
longer be satisfied with any history of ancient Greece
that has as yet been produced. But, notwithstand-
ing the faults that have been objected to the work
of Gillies under this new and improved school of
criticism, it was certainly a most useful production
in its d.ay, and well worthy of the approval with
which it was welcomed by the learned; so that, not-

JOHN GLASS.

"S

withstanding the complaints that have been made of
the duhiess of his dissertations, the pomposity of
his style, and the occasional unfiithfulness of his
translations, we have still to wait for a better history
of Greece. By a curious coincidence the first part
of the work, and the first volume of Mitford's His-
tory of Greece — two rival publications upon a common
subject — were published during the same year.

The rest of the life of Dr. Gillies presents few in-
cidents for the biographer. In 1793 he succeeded
Dr. Robertson as historiographer royal for Scotland,
a sinecure office, to which a salary of ^200 per annum
is attached. He was also elected a member of several
societies in our own country, as also a corresponding
member of the French Institute and of the Royal
Society of Gottingen. In 1794 he married. His
various publications continued to appear at distant
intervals, until the debility of old age compelled him
to lay aside his pen; and, having done enough for
fame and fortune, he retired in 1830 to Clapham,
near London, where the rest of his life was passed
in tranquil enjoyment, until he died at the age of
ninety without disease and without pain. This event
occurred on the 15th of February, 1836.

Besides his writings which we have already speci-
fied, Dr. Gillies published: — i. ^^ VicM of the Reign
of Frederic II. of Prussia, with a Parallel between
that Prince and Philip II. of Macedon," 1789, 8vo.
2. "Aristotle's Ethics and Politics, comprising his
Practical Philosophy, translated from the Greek;
illustrated by Introductions and Notes, the Critical
History of his Life, and a New Analysis of his
Speculative Works," 1797, 2 vols. 4to. 3. "Supple-
ment to the Analysis of Aristotle's Speculative Works,
containing an Account of the Interpreters and Cor-
rupters of Aristotle's Philosophy, in connection with
the Times in which they respectively flourished,"
1S04, 4to. 4. The Histoiy of the Ancient World, from
the Dominion of Alexander to that of Augustus, with
a Preliminary Survey of Preceding Periods, 1807-10,
2 vols. 4to. This was afterwards reprinted in 4 vols.
8vo, as the History of Ancient Greece, its Colonies and
Conquests, Part II., 1820. 5. "A New Translation
of Aristotle's Rhetoric, with an Introduction and
Appendix, explaining its Relation to his Exact Philo-
sophy, and vindicating that Philosophy by Proofs that
all Departures from it have been Deviations into
Error," 1823, 8vo.

GLASS, John, founder of a sect still known by
his name, was the son of the Rev. Alexander Glass,
minister of the parish of Auchtermuchty, in the
county of Fife, where he was born on the 21st of
September, 1695. In the year 1697 his father was
translated to the parish of Kinclaven, at which place
Mr. John Glass received the rudiments of his educa-
tion. He was afterwards sent to the grammar-school
of Perth, where he learned the Latin and Greek
languages. He completed his studies at the univer-
sities of St. Andrews and Edinburgh, and having
been licensed as a preacher by the presbytery of
Perth, was in 17 19 ordained a minister of the
Church of Scotland, in the parish of Tealing, in the
neighbourhood of Dundee. Mr. Glass had been a
diligent student, was deeply impressed with the im-
portance of the ministerial' character and the awful
responsibility which attached to it, and was anxious,
in no common degree, about the due discharge
of the various duties which it involved. In his
public services he was highly acceptable; had a
singular gift of prayer; and in his sermons, which,
according to the fashion of the time, were seldom
less than two, sometimes three, hours in length, he
attracted and kept up the unwearied attention of

crowded audiences. His fame as a preacher, of
course, soon spread abroad, and his sacramental
occasions attracted vast crowds from distant quarters;
the usual concomitant, in those days, of popularitv.
But it was not public services alone that absorl)e<l
his attention; the more private duties of his station
were equally attended to. Even so early as 1725,
only two years after his settlement, he had formed
within his parish a little society of persons whom
he found to be particularly under serious impres-
sions, and with whom he cultivated a more intimate
intercourse, though no part of his charge was ne-
glected. It is probable, however, that his peculiar
notions of the constitution of a Christian church
were by this time beginning to be developed, and this
intercourse with a detached and particular part of
his charge must have tended to hasten the process.
Breach of covenant engagements, from a combination
of circumstances, was at this time the topicvery gener-
ally insisted on in the ministrations of the Scottish
clergy. The binding obligation of Ixjth the national
covenant of Scotland, and the solemn league and
covenant of the three kingdoms being universally
admitted, Mr. Glass began to preach against these
covenants, as incompatible with the nature of the
gospel dispensation and the sacred rights of con-
science. A paper written by him at this time to the
above effect excited a verj- great sensation throughout
the country, and called forth some of the ablest de-
fences of these famous deeds that have yet appeared.
In the above paper Mr. Glass did not state himself
as formally an enemy to the covenants, but only as
an inquirer, wishing further light and information
respecting them; yet it was evident to eveiy intelli-
gent person that he was no longer a Presbyterian.
He was forthwith summoned before the church
courts; and, refusing to sign the formula and some
passages of the Confession of Faith, was, by the
synod of Angus and Meams, deposed from his office,
on the I2th of April, 1728.

The same year he published his King of Martyrs,
in which he embodied his views more fully matured.
This book had no inconsiderable share of popularity,
and it has sensed for a general storehouse, whence
Mr. Patrick Hutchison, and after him all the mo-
dem advocates of spirituality, as a peculiar and
distinguishing characteristic of the New Testament
church, have drawn their principal arguments. On
his deposition Mr. Glass removed from Tealing to
Dundee, where, several persons joining him, he
formed the first church of the kind in Scotland.
This small body was not without its share of the
obloquy to which Independency had long been ex-
posed in Scotland, nor were the members without
their fears respecting the practicability of the scheme,
being doubtful of a sufficiency of gifts in the lay
brethren. When they came to the proof, however,
they were agreeably disappointed; and wherever
they had occasion to form churches, which was in
a short time in a great many places, appear to have
found no lack of qualified persons. In the year
1733 Mr. Glass removed from Dundee to Perth,
where he erected a small meeting-house, which was
thought great presumption, especially as the handful
of people that attended arrogated to themselves the
name of a church. Attempts were even made to
eject them forcibly from the town; and a zealous
lady beholding Mr. Glass in the street, was heard
to exclaim, "Why do they not rive [tear] him in
pieces!" In the year 1739 the General Assembly
of the Church of Scotland, the same that gave
positive orders to the commission to proceed against
the Seceders with the censures of the church, took
off, by a vei7 curious act, the sentence of deposition

ii6

JOHN GLASS JAMES GLEXXIK.

tliat had been passed against Mr. Glass. In this
act he is stated to hold some peculiar views, which
the Assembly do not think inconsistent with his
being a minister. They accordingly restored him
to the character of a minister of the gospel of Christ,
but declared at the same time he was not to be
considered a minister of the Established Church of
Scotland, or capable of lacing called and settled
therein, till he shoukl renounce these peculiar views.
This act, even among the anomalous acts of church
courts, was certainly a very strange one. If Mr.
Glass, however, was satisfied on scriptural grounds
that he was a minister of Christ, it could make little
difference whether he belonged to the Church of
Scotland or not. At the time of his deposition
Mr. Glass had a large family, and when he was
deprived of his stipend had no visible means of
supporting it. This, taken in connection with the
persecutions of another kind which he was made to
endure, affords sufficient evidence, whatever any
may think of his principles, that he was sincere and
conscientious in their profession. In this sacrifice
of worldly interests it is pleasing to learn that he
had the cheerful concurrence of his excellent wife,
Catharine Black, a daughter of the Rev. Mr. Black
of Perth. This worthy woman, persuaded that the
cause in which he was engaged was the cause of
God, encouraged him in his darkest moments to
perseverance, and to a cheerful trust in Divine
Providence, even for such things as might be needful
for this present frail and transitory life; nor was his
confidence in vain. In the death of their children
(fifteen in number, all of whom he survived) their
faith and patience were also severely tried, especially
in the case of such of them as had arrived at the
years of maturity. One of his sons was the occasion
of much trouble to him, and left his house a disobe-
dient son. Like the prodigal in the parable, how-
ever, he repented in his afifhction, and returned a
very different person. His son Thomas lived to
become a respectable bookseller in Dundee, where
he was settled in life, and was pastor to the congre-
gation which his father had left in that place; but he
was cut off in the prime of life by a fever. Another
of his sons, George, was a sea-captain, and known
as the author of the History of the Canary Islands,
published by Dodsley in 1764. He afterwards
went out for a London company to attempt forming
a settlement on the coast of Africa, where he was
seized by the Spaniards, and kept a prisoner for
several years. The men whom he had conducted
to Africa were in the meantime murdered, and his
ship ])lundered. Having, by a pencil note inclosed
in a loaf of bread, found means to make his case
known to the British consul, the government in-
terfered, and he was set at liberty. He took his
passage with his wife and daughter for London,
intending to revisit his native country. The ship in
which he embarked was unfortunately loaded with
specie, which, awakening the cupidity of a part of
the crew, they conspired to murder the captain and
secure the vessel. Captain Glass, hearing the dis-
turbance on deck when the mutiny broke out, drew
his sword, and hastening to the rescue, was stabbed
in the back by one of the conspirators, who had
been lurking below. Mrs. Glass and her daughter
clung to one another imploring mercy, but were
thrown overboard locked in each other's arms.
The murderers landed on the coast of Ireland, where
they unshipped the money- chests, which they hid in
the sands, and went to an ale-house to refresh them-
selves. Here they were taken up on suspicion, con-
fessed the atrocious crime, and were subsequently
executed. Mr. Glass and his friends in Perth had

been apprised by letter that his son was on his voy-
age home, and were in daily expectation of his arrival,
when intelligence of the fate of the ship and her
crew reached Perth in a newspaper. Mr. Glass
sustained the shock with his wonted resignation and
equanimity. He died in 1773, aged seventy-eight.
The doctrines and practices of his sect were afterwards
modified by his son-in-law Mr. Robert Sandeman,
author of The Letters on Theron and Aspasio, and
from whom the members of the body are sometimes
denominated Sandemanians.

GLENNIE, James, a distinguished geometrician,
a native of Life, was born in 1750. Ilis father was
an officer in the army, and saw much severe service.
Glennie received the rudiments of his education at a
parochial school, and was afterwards removed to the
university of St. Andrews, where he made consider-
able proficiency in the Greek and Latin languages,
but early discovered a strong and peculiar propensity
to the sciences in general, but more particularly to
geometry, a branch which he pursued with such zeal
and success as to carry off two successive prizes in
the mathematical class, when he was only nineteen
years of age. Glennie was originally intended for
the church, and with this view attended the divinity
class, where he also distinguished himself, becoming
a keen polemic and theologian, and an acute and
able disputant. Whether, however, from his finding
a difficulty in obtaining a church, or from the im-
pulse of his own disposition, he abandoned the idea
of entering into holy orders, and chose rather to
seek his fortune in the army. Through the interest
of the Earl of Kinnoul, then chancellor of the uni-
versity of St. Andrews, and of the professors of that
university, to whom Glennie's talents had strongly
recommended him, he obtained a commission in the
artillery, a branch of the service for which his geo-
metrical knowledge eminently fitted him. On the
breaking out of the American war, in 1775, Glennie
embarked for that country with the troops sent out
by the mother country to co-operate with those
already there, in the suppression of the insurgents.
On his arrival, now a lieutenant of artillerj', he was
placed under the command of General St. Leger;
his reputation, however, as a promising officer and
skilful engineer was already so great, that he was
left in full command of his own particular depart-
ment. Throughout the whole campaign which fol-
lowed he conducted all his operations with such
judgment and intrepidity as to attract the notice of
the Marquis of Townshend, who, without solicitation
or any interest whatever being made, transferred
Glennie to the engineers; and this flattering circum-
stance, together with the reasons annexed, were
certified in the London Gazette. In 1779 he was
further gratified by being nominated one of the thirty
practitioner engineers, and appointed second, and
soon after first, lieutenant. So active and industri-
ous were Glennie's habits, that even while engaged
in the arduous and dangerous duties of his profession
in America, he wrote a number of im])ortant papers
on abstruse subjects. These he transmitted to the
Royal Society, where they were read, and deemed
so valuable as to procure him the honour of being
elected a member, and that, as in the case of the
celebrated Dr. I'"ranklin, without fees, and even
without his knowledge.

On his return to England Mr. Glennie married
Miss Mary Anne Locke, daughter of the store-keeper
at Plymouth.

The good fortune, however, which had hitherto
attended Glennie, and the prosperous career which ap-
parently lay still before him, were now about to close

JAMES GLENNIE WALTER GOODAL.

117

in darkness and disappointment. Tiie first blow to
Glennie's hopes of future promotion proceeded from
a circumstance sufficiently remarkable in itself. The
Duke of Richmond, who was, at the time of Glen-
nie's return from America, master -general of the
board of ordnance, in which he had displaced Glen-
nie's early patron the Marquis of Townshend, had
conceived the absurd idea of fortifying all our naval
arsenals, and of forming lines of defence on the coast,
instead of increasing the navy, and trusting to that
arm for protection against a foreign enemy. The
duke was much opposed on this point in parliament;
but as it was a favourite idea, he persevered, and
supported as he was by the influence and eloquence
of Pitt, would have carried the measure, but for the
skill and talent of a subaltern of artillery ; and that
subaltern, who coped successfully with a minister of
state on a great national question, was Glennie.

The Duke of Richmond, aware of Glennie's talents
'in the sciences of gunnery and fortification, frequently
and anxiously endeavoured to obtain his approba-
tion of his plans ; with more candour than wisdom,
however, he not only steadfastly withheld this appro-
bation, but unhesitatingly declared them to be absurd
and impracticable. Glennie's early patron, the Mar-
quis of Townshend, knowing the former's opinion of
the Duke of Richmond's plans, invited him to his
residence, where he detained him until he had com-
posed, which he did at the marquis's request, a
pamphlet on the subject. The pamphlet, which was
written with great ability and discovered a profound
knowledge of the matter of which it treated, was
immediately publis'aed, and produced a prodigious
effect. It instantly opened the eyes of the public to
the absurdity of the minister's ideas: his projects were
overturned, and the country was saved; but Glennie
was ruined.

In this celebrated pamphlet, which is simply
entitled A Short Essay, it was demonstrated that
extensive lines produce prolonged weakness, not
strength, and showed that troops are much more
formidable as an active and movable force than as
an inert body, cooped up in fortifications. It showed
further that the sum (calculated at forty or fifty mil-
lions) which should be required to carry the duke's
plans into effect, was more than would be necessary
to build a new and complete fleet, superior to that
of any power on earth. Besides all this, it was
shown that it would require 22,000 soldiers for the
intended fortifications of Portsmouth and Plymouth
alone.

Glennie, perceiving that all hopes of further pro-
motion were now at an end, resigned his commission
and emigrated to British America with his wife and
children. Here he purchased a tract of land, and
soon afterwards became a contractor for ship-timber
and masts for government. The speculation failed,
and both Glennie himself and a partner, a wealthy
man who had joined him in it, were ruined. Driven
back to England, but now, as many years had
elapsed, forgotten and without friends, Glennie ap-
plied to the Earl of Chatham, who, recognizing his
merits, but unable to do more for him, retained
rather than employed him as "engineer extraordi-
nary." Soon after, however, he procured Glennie
the appointment of instructor to the East India
Company's young artillery officers, with salary and
emoluments amounting to ;[^400 per annum. Glen-
nie's good fortune was, however, again but of short
duration. He was summoned as an evidence on
some^ points in the celebrated trial of the Duke
of York and Mrs. Clarke ; his evidence was
unfavourable to the duke ; the consequence was,
that he soon afterwards received an official letter

from the board of directors, dispensing with his
services.

In 1812 Glennie, now in the sixty-second year of
his age, went out to Copenhagen at the request of a
gentleman who then held a seat in parliament, to
negotiate the purchase of a certain plantation. Glen-
nie having set out on his mission without coming
to any explicit terms with his employer, his claim
for compensation on his return was disputed, and
referred to arbitration; but the referees could not
agree, and the matter therefore was never adjusted.
Glennie, now in an exceedingly destitute condition,
without friends who could assist him, his health
destroyed, and himself far advanced in life, made an
unsuccessful attempt to procure a few mathematical
pupils, and finally died of apoplexy on the 23d
November, 181 7, in the sixty -seventh year of his age.
His remains were interred in the churchyard of St.
Martin's-in-the-I'lelds.

Amongst other proofs of Glennie's geometrical
knowledge is to be found a solution of Dr. Matthew
Stewart's "42d proposition on 39th theorem," which
had remained unsolved, and had puzzled the learned
for sixty-five years; and also a demonstration of the
impossibility of "squaring the circle," a question
which has long excited public curiosity, and which
it is said engaged the attention and eluded the re-
search of the great Newton.

GOODAL, Walter, well known as a historical
antiquaiy, was the eldest son of John Goodal, a
farmer in Banffshire, and was born about the year
1706. In 1723 he was entered as a student in King's
College, Aberdeen, but did not continue long enough
to take a degree. In 1730 he obtained employment
in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh under the
famous Thomas Ruddiman, who was a native of the
same district, and perhaps patronized him on account
of some local recommendations. He assisted Rud-
diman in the compilation of the first catalogue of the
library, which was published in 1742. When Rud-
diman was succeeded by David Hume, Goodal con-
tinued to act as sub-librarian, probably upon a very
small salary. Like both of his successive superiors,
he was a Tory and a Jacobite, but, it would appear,
of a far more ardent character than either of them.
Being, almost as a matter of course, a believer in
the innocence of Queen Mary, he contemplated
writing her life, but afterwards limited his design to
a publication entitled An Examination of the Letters
said to be written by Jllary to James Earl of Bothwell,
which appeared in 1754. In this work, says Mr.
George Chalmers, he could have done more, if he
had had less prejudice and more coolness. Hume
had become librarian two years before this period;
but " the chief duty," we are informed, " fell upon
Walter, or, as he good-naturedly permitted himself
to be called, IVatty Goodal. One day, while Goodal
was composing his treatise concerning Queen Mar}-,
he became drowsy, and laying down his head upon
his manuscripts, in that posture fell asleep. Ilunie,
entering the library and finding the controversialist
in that position, stepped softly up to him, and laying
his mouth to Watty's ear, roared out with the voice
of a stentor, that Queen Mar>- was a whore, and had
murdered her husband. Watty, not knowing whether
it was a dream or a real adventure, or whether the
voice proceeded from a ghost or living creature,
started up, and before he was awake, or his eyes
well opened, he sprang upon Hume, and, seizing
him by the throat, pushed him to the further end of
the library, exclaiming all the while that he was some
base Presbyterian parson, who was come to murder
the character of Queen Mary as his predecessors had

iiS

ALEXANDER GORDON

LORD GEORGE GORDON.

contributed to murder her person. Hume used to
tell this story with much glee, and Watty acknow-
ledged the truth of it with much frankness."

In 1753 Mr. Goodal acted as editor of a new
edition of the work called C)\n^'foi\rs Memoirs, which
he is generally blamed for not having corrected or
purified from the vitiations of its autiior. In 1754
he published an edition, with emendatory notes, of
Scott of Scotstar%-et's Stuggcriii^ Stah- 0/ Scots Stales-
me/i, and wrote a preface and life to Sir James Bal-
four's Practices. He contributed also to Keith's
Catalogue of Scottish Bishops, and published an edition
of Fordun's Scotichroiticoii, with a Latin introduction,
of which an English version was given to the world
in 1769. Goodal died July 2S, 1766, in very in-
digent circumstances, which Mr. Chalmers attributes
to habits of intemperance. The following extract
from the minutes of the Faculty of Advocates throws
a melancholy light upon the subject, and is fully
entitled to a place in Mr. DTsraeli's Calamities of
Authors: —

"A petition was presented in name of INIary
Goodal, only daughter of the deceased Mr. Walter
Goodal, late depute-keeper of the Advocates' Library,
representing that the petitioner's father died the 2Sth
last month; that by reason of some accidental mis-
fortunes happening in his affairs, any small pieces of
household furniture or other movables he hath left
behind will scarcely defray the expense of his funeral;
that if there is any overplus, [it] will be attached by
his creditors; that she is in the most indigent cir-
cumstances, and without friends to give her any
assistance; that she proposes to go to the north
country, where she hath some relations, in order to
try if she can be put upon any way of gaining her
bread; tliat she would not be permitted to leave the
town until she should discharge some small debts
that she was by necessity obliged to contract; that,
besides, she was in such want of clothes and other
necessaries, that she can scarcely appear in the
streets; and that, in her most distressed situation,
she hath presumed to make this humble application
to the honourable the dean and 'faculty of advo-
cates, praying that they would be pleased to order
her such a sum from their fund as they shall judge
her necessities require.

"The dean and faculty, taking this clamant case
under their consideration, were unanimously of opinion
that the petitioner should have some allowance out
of their fund. " The sum given was ten pounds.

GORDON, Alexander, authorof various learned
and useful antiquarian works, is one of the numerous
subjects for the present puljlication, of whom nothing
is known except their birth in Scotland, and their
transactions in pulilic life out of it. He was a well-
educated man, possessing what was not in his time
common among the Scottish literati — an intimate
knowledge of the Greek language. In early life he
travelled through France and other parts of the
Continent, and spent some years in Italy. His first
publication referred to the antiquities of his native
country, which he seems to have explored with minute
and painstaking fidelity. The work appeared in
1726, under the title of ^^ Itinoarium Septentrionalc,
or a yoiirney through ?nost Parts of the Counties of
Scotland, in two parts, with sixty-six copperplates,"
folio: a supplement, published in 1732, was entitled
Additions and Corrections to the Itinerariuin Septen-
trionale, containing scz<eral Dissertations on and
Descriptions of Roman Antiquities discovered in Scot-
land since publishing the said Itinerary. These were
among the first efforts in what may be called pure
antiquities which were made in Scotland. The It-

inerary was considered so valuable a work, that it
was translated into Latin and published in Holland
in 1 73 1 (the supplement included), for the use of
general scholars throughout Europe. In 1729 Mr.
Gordon published " The Lives of Pope Alexander
I'l. and his Son desar Boigia, comprehending the
Wars in the Reign of Charles VHI. and Lewis XII.,
Kings of France, and the Chief Transactions and
Revolutions in Italy from 1492 to 15 16, with an
Appendix of Original Pieces referred to in the
Work." This work was also in folio. In 1730 he
published in octavo, "^ Complete History of Ancient
Amphitheatres, more particularly regarding the Ar-
chitecture of these Buildings, and in particular that
of J'erona; by the Marquis Scipio Maffei; translated
from the Italian." In 1736 Mr. Gordon was ap-
pointed secretary to the Society for the Encourage-
ment of Learning, with an annual salarj- of ^^50; and
also secretary to the Antiquarian Society: the former
place he resigned in 1739, and the latter in 1741-
About the same time he officiated as secretary to
the Eg)-ptian Club, an association of learned indi-
viduals who had visited Egj-pt, comprising Lord
Sandwich, Dr. Shaw, Dr. Pococke, and others of
nearly equal distinction. Mr. Gordon published
two other works — An Essay towards Explaining the
Ilieroglyphical Eigures on the Coffin of the Ancient
Mummy belonging to Captain ll'illiam Lethieullier,
1737, and Tii'cnty-five Plates of all the Egyptian
Mummies and other Egyptian Antiquities in England,
about 1739 — both in folio.

Mr. Gordon was destined, after doing so much to
explain the antiquities of the old world, to the un-
congenial fate of spending his last years in the new,
\\here so few are to be found. He was induced
in 1741 to accompany Governor Glen to Carolina
in North America, where, besides a grant of land,
he had several offices, particularly that of registrar
of the province. He died about 1750, leaving a
valuable estate to his family.

GORDON, George, commonly called Lord
George Gordon, one of the most remarkable Scots-
men who have flourished in modem political history,
was the third son of Cosmo George, third Duke of
Gordon, by Catharine, daughter of William Earl of
Aberdeen. He was born in L^pper Brook Street,
London, in December, 1750, and was baptized in
January, 1752; George II. standing as his sponsor
or godfather. Of his boyhood or education we
know little or nothing; nor does there appear to
have supervened any peculiar trait of conduct or
bias of disposition, during his juvenile years, to dis-
tinguish him from his compeers, or forbode the
singular eccentricity and erratic waywardness of his
future career. At a verj' tender age he entered the
navy, in which he arrived, by due gradation, at the
rank of lieutenant. The reason of his afterwards
abandoning the naval profession was a pretended
disappointment at non-promotion in theserv-ice, while
it was, in fact, a mere job effected by some of the
opposition members to win him to their ranks, as
will afterwards be seen. In the year 1772, being then
little more than twenty years of age, he went to reside
in Inverness-shire, with the view of opposing General
Eraser of Lovat, as member for the county, at the
next general election, which would of necessity take
place in two years thereafter at farthest. This was
indeed bearding the lion in his den, and appeared
about as Quixotic an undertaking as that of displac-
ing one of the chieftain's native mountains. Such,
however, were his ingratiating qualities, the frank-
ness of his manners, the affability of his address, and
his happy knack of accommodating himself to the

LORD GEORGE GORDON.

119

humours of all classes, that, when the day of elec-
tion drew nigh, and the candidates began to number
their strength, Lovat found, to his unutterable con-
fusion and vexation, that his beardless competitor
had actually succeeded in securing a majority of
votes ! Nor could the most distant imputations of
bribery or undue influence be charged upon the
young political aspirant. All was the result of his
winning address and popular manners, superadded
to his handsome countenance, which is said to have
been of almost feminine beauty and delicacy. He
played on the bagpipes and violin to those who loved
music. He spoke Gaelic and wore the pliilabeg,
where these were in fashion. lie made love to the
young ladies, and listened with patience and defer-
ence to the garrulous sermonizing of old age. And,
finally, he gave a splendid ball to the gentry at In-
verness— one remarkable incident concerning which
was his hiring a ship, and bringing from the isle of
Skye the family of the M'Leods, consisting oi fifteen
young ladies — the pride and admiration of the north.
It was not to be tolerated, however, that the great
feudal chieftain should thus be thrust from his here-
ditary political possession by a mere stripling. Upon
an application to the duke, Lord George's eldest
brother, a compromise was agreed on, by which it
was settled, that upon Lord George's relinquishing
Inverness-shire, General Eraser should purchase a
seat for him in an English borough; and he was ac-
cordingly returned for Ludgershall, the property of
Lord Slelbourne, at the election of 1774.

It would appear that, for some time after taking
his seat. Lord George voted with the ministry of the
day. He soon, however, and mainly, it is affirmed,
by the influence of his sister-in-law, the celebrated
Duchess of Gordon, became a convert to the princi-
ples of the opposition; and it was not long ere, at
the instigation of Governor Johnston and Mr. Burke,
he fairly broke with the ministry, upon their refusal
to comply with a most unreasonable demand for
promotion over the heads of older and abler officers,
which the gentlemen just named had incited him to
make. From this time forward he became a zealous
opponent of government, especially as regarded their
policy towards America, where discontents against
their measures were becoming rife and loud. It was
not, however, until the session of 1776 that he stood
forth as a public speaker, when he commenced his
career by a furious attack on ministers, whom he
accused of an infamous attempt to bribe him over to
their side by the offer of a sinecure of ;^iooo a year.
Whether this charge was true or false, certain it is
that ministers felt the effects of the imputation so
severely, reiterated and commented on as it was in
the withering eloquence of Fox, Burke, and others,
that an attempt was made to induce him to cede his
seat in parliament, in favour of the famous Irish
orator Henry Flood, by the offer of the place of
vice-admiral of Scotland, then vacant by the resigna-
tion of the Duke of Queensbeny. Notwithstanding
that Lord George's fortune was then scarcely ;(^700
per annum, he had the fortitude to resist the prof-
fered bait, and seemed determined, like Andrew
Marvel, to prefer dining for three days running on a
single joint, rather than sacrifice his independence
by the acceptance of court-favour. His lordship,
indeed, soon began to estrange himself from both
parties in the house, and to assume a position then
entirely new in parliamentary tactics, and somewhat
parallel to the course chalked out for themselves by
a few of our patriots in the House of Commons at
a later period. Disclaiming all connection with
either Whigs or Tories, he avowed himself as being
devoted solely to the cause of the people. Continu-

ing to represent the borough of Ludgershall, he per-
severed in animadverting with great freedom, and
often with great wit, on the proceedings on both
sides of the house, and became so marked, that it
was usual at that time to say that "there were three
parties in parliament — the ministry, the opposition,
and Lord George Gordon."

A bill had been brought into parliament, in the
session of 1778, by Sir George Saville, who is de-
scribed by a writer of the Whig party as one of the
most upright men which perhaps any age or country
ever produced, to relieve the Roman Catholic sub-
jects of England from some of the penalties they
were subject to by an act passed in the eleventh
and twelfth year of King William III. — an act sup-
posed by many to have originated in faction, and
which at all events, from many important changes
since the time of its enactment, had become unneces-
sary, and therefore unjust.

On the passing of this bill, which required a test
of fidelity from the parties who claimed its protection,
many persons of that religion, and of the first fami-
lies and fortunes in the kingdom, came forward with
the most zealous professions of attachment to the
government; so that the good effects of the indul-
gence were immediately felt, and hardly a mumiur
from any quarter was heard. This act of Sir George
Saville did not extend to Scotland; but in the next
winter a proposition was made by several individuals
to revise the penal laws in force against the Catholics
in that kingdom also, at least a report prevailed of
such an intention. The people in general, having
still a keen recollection of the religious dissensions
of the preceding century, M-ere strongly excited by
this rumour, and formed numerous associations
throughout the country for the purpose of resisting,
by petition, any remission of the Catholic penalties.
In this movement they were countenanced generally
by the evangelical section of the national clerg}', and
perhaps the public fervour was raised by no circum-
stance so much as by the indifference with which the
majority of the moderate party had treated the sub-
ject in the General Assembly of 1778, when the idea
of a prospective declaration against the measure was
coldly negatived. The proceedings in Scotland,
and some inflammatory pamphlets published about
the same time, gradually awakened the public mind
in England, or at least the less informed part of it,
to a conviction of the danger of Sir George Saville's
act, and a powerful society was formed at London,
under the name of the "Protestant Association," for
endeavouring to procure the repeal of the bill.
Large subscriptions were raised in different parts of
the kingdom, a secretary was publicly chosen, and
correspondences set on foot between the different
societies in England and Scotland. To crown all,
in November, 1779, Lord George Gordon, M.P.,
was unanimously invited to become president of the
association, of which situation he accepted. One
thing ought here to be observed, in judging of the
sincerity of this nobleman in the part he took in the
subsequent public proceedings on this subject, both
in and out of parliament, that he offered no opposi-
tion whatever to the passing of Sir George Saville's
repeal act.

In detailing the fearful events which ensued both
in England and Scotland, in consequence of this
struggle of parties, it is necessarj' that some regard
be had to chronological order; and we must, there-
fore, first of all turn our attention to the posture of
affairs in our own countiy.

Soon after the passing of the tolerating act in
favour of the English and Irish Catholics, those of
that creed m Scotland, encouraged, as we have said,

LORD GEORGE GORDOX.

by demonstrations in their favour in various influen-
tial quarters, prepared a petition to parliament,
praying for the enjoyment of the same rights and
privileges which had been extended to their more
fortunate brethren. At this juncture an anon)-mous
pamphlet appeared at Edinburgh, which caused an
extraordinary sensation throughout the country'. Its
effects were first developed by the proceedings in the
provincial sj-nods, by almost all of which (excepting
that of Lothian and Tweeddale) violent and angr>'
resolutions were passed against the Papists, and the
firmest determination expressed to oppose their
petition. These resolutions being published in the
newspapers, soon propagated the ferment, and fanned
the popular excitement into a blaze. Numerous so-
cieties were organized at Edinburgh, Glasgow, and
elsewhere, who severally passed resolutions to the
same effect. That at Edinburgh, together with all
the incorporations of the city, excepting the surgeons,
the merchant company, and the society of candle-
makers, petitioned the town-council early in Januarj',
1779, to oppose the bill, which was agreed to; and
the members for the city and county were instructed
accordingly. Similar proceedings also took place
at Glasgow.

The populace, however, were far too highly irri-
tated to await patiently the issue of these decided
measures, and on the 2d of Februar)' their fury
burst out at Edinburgh with uncontrollable vio-
lence. Incendiar)' letters had previously been dis-
tributed in the streets, calling upon the people to
meet at the foot of Leith Wynd on the above day,
' ' to pidl down that pillar of Popery lately erected
there" — alluding to a house occupied, along with
other families, by a Roman Catholic bishop, and
which was supposed to contain a Catholic place of
worship. A large mob accordingly assembled, and
in spite of the exertions of the magistrates, backed
by a regiment of fencibles, the house was set on fire
and reduced to ashes. The house of another Popish
clerg)'man in Black friars' Wynd was completely
gutted. The Catholics in all the other parts of the
town were indiscriminately abused, and their houses
pillaged. Nor against these alone was the violence
of the mob directed. The liberal Protestants kno^^•n
to favour toleration towards the Catholics became
equally the marks of popular fury. Amongst
these were the celebrated Professor Robertson,
and Mr. Crosbie, an eminent advocate, whose
houses were attacked, and which, but for the timely
interference of the militar}% would doubtless, like
the rest, have been fired and razed to the ground.
Seeing no likelihood of a termination to the tumults,
the provost and magistrates, after several days'
feeble and ineffectual efforts to restore order, at
length issued a proclamation of a somewhat singular
description, assitriii!^ the people that tio repeal of the
statutes against Papists should take place, and attri-
buting the riots solely to the "fears and distressed
minds of well-meaning people." This announce-
ment, nevertheless, had the effect of partially re-
storing quiet. The example of Edinburgh was in
part copied in Glasgow; but the disturbances there,
owing to the exertions and influence of the principal
merchants and others, were soon got under; — the
provost and magistrates finding it necessary, how-
ever, to issue a notice similar to that of their civic
brethren at Edinburgh. But notwithstanding that
these magisterial assurances were corroborated by a
letter to the same effect from Lord Weymouth, home-
secretary, dated 12th February, addressed to the
lord justice-clerk, the excitement throughout the
country every day increased, instead of abating.
At no period of our history, unless perhaps during

the political crisis in i S3 1-32, has either branch of
the legislature been addressed or spoken of in lan-
guage half so daring, menacing, or contemptuous.
The resolutions passed by the heritors and heads of
families in the parish of Carluke, Lanarkshire, may
vie with the most maledictory philippics poured
forth on the heads of the " boroughmongers" in
modern days. To such a height did this anti-
catholic feeling at last rise, that the Papists deemed
it at last prudent to memorialize parliament on the
subject, and pray for protection to their lives and
property, as well as redress for what they had already
suffered. This petition was laid before the house by
Mr. Burke on the i8th of March, and it is in the
debate which thereupon ensued that we first find
Lord George Gordon standing forth in parliament
as the champion of the Protestant interests. In the
following August, after the rising of the session. Lord
George paid a visit to Edinburgh, where he was
received with extraordinarv' attention, and unani-
mously chosen president of the "committee of cor-
respondence for the Protestant interest." We ought
to have mentioned that, in the month of April, the
sum of £\(iOO had been adjudged by arbitration to
the Catholics in compensation of their loss in the
city of Edinburgh, which amount was paid from the
city's funds.

The remarkable respect and honours which Lord
George experienced from the Protestant societies
in Scotland appear to have operated like quicksilver
in his veins. He forthwith devoted himself heart
and hand to their cause; and on his return to London
he was, as we have already mentioned, chosen presi-
dent of the formidable Protestant Association.

Encouraged by the deference paid by government
to the wishes of the Scottish Protestants, the mem-
bers of the London Association entertained the most
sanguine hopes of getting a repeal of the late tolera-
tion act for England. The most strenuous exertions
by advertisement and otherwise were therefore made
to swell the numbers of the society ; meetings were
called, and resolutions passed, to petition the House
of Commons for an abrogation of the obnoxious
act.

After various desultory motions in parliament,
which it is unnecessary to specify, Lord George,
on the 5th of May, presented a petition from Ply-
mouth, praying for a repeal of Sir G. Saville's act.
Finding, however, the government and legislature
little disposed to pay any attention to these applica-
tions, the members of the association resolved upon
adopting more active and unequivocal measures to
accomplish their object. A meeting was accordingly
held in Coachmakers' Hall, on the evening of the;
29th May — at which Lord George, who was in the
chair, addressed them in a long and inflammatory
harangiie upon the wicked designs of the Papists,
the fearful increase of Poperj' in the kingdom in
consequence of the late act, and the measures in-
dispensably necessarj' to be adopted for the salvation
of Protestantism. He said their only resource was
to go in a body to the House of Commons, and ex-
press their determination to protect their religious
])rivileges with their lives; that for his part he would
run all hazards with "the people," and if they were
too lukewarm to do the like with him, they might
choose another leader. This speech was received
with tremendous acclamations; and resolutions were
passed, that the whole Protestant Association should
assemble in St. George's Fields on the following
Friday (June 2d), to accompany his lordship to the
House of Commons, where he was to present the
Protestant petition, and that they should march to
the house in four divisions, and by different routes.

LORD GEORGE GORDON.

His lordship also added, that unless 20,000 people, '
each decked with a blue cockade, assembled, he
would not present the petition. Ne.xt evening Lord
(ieorge gave notice in the House of Commons of
his intention of presenting the petition on the ap-
pointed day, as also of the proposed processions
of the association; and it is a remarkable fact, that
although by the act of 1661 such a proceeding was
declared quite illegal, not the slightest intimation
was given to him by the ministry to that effect.

On the day appointed an immense concourse of
people, not less, it was computed, than 100,000,
assembled in St. George's P'ields. Lord George
arrived about twelve o'clock, and after haranguing
them for a considerable time, directed them how
they were to march. One party, accordingly, pro-
ceeded round by London Bridge, another over
Blackfriars, and a third accompanied their presi-
dent over Westminster Bridge. The petition, to
which the subscriptions of the petitioners were ap-
pended, on an immense number of rolls of parch-
ment, was borne before the latter body. On their
assembling at the two houses of parliament, which
they completely surrounded, they announced their
presence by a general shout, and it was not long
ere the more unndy of them began to exercise the
power they now felt themselves to possess,- by abus-
ing and maltreating the members of both houses,
as they severally arrived. At the door of the House
of Lords the Archbishop of York, the Bishops of
Litchfield and Lincoln, the Duke of Northumber-
land, Lords Bathurst, Mansfield, Townshend, Hills-
borough, Stormont, Dudley, and many others, were
all more or less abused, both in character and per-
son. Lord Boston, in particular, was so long in
the hands of the mob, tlitit it was at one time pro-
posed that the house should go out in a body to his
rescue. He entered at last, unwigged, and with his
clothes almost torn from his person.

In the meantime the rioters had got complete
possession of the lobby of the House of Commons,
the doors of which they repeatedly tried to force
open; and a scene of confusion, indignation, and
uproar ensued in the house, almost rivalling that
which was passing out of doors. Lord George, on
first entering the house, had a blue cockade in his
hat, but upon this being commented upon as a signal
of riot, he drew it out. The greatest part of the
day was consumed in debates (almost inaudible from
the increasing roar of the multitude without) relat-
tive to the fearful aspect of affairs ; but something
like order being at last obtained. Lord George in-
troduced the subject of the Protestant petition, which,
he stated, was signed by 120,000 Protestants, and
moved that it be immediately brought up. Leave
being given, he next moved that it be forthwith
taken into consideration. This informal and un-
precedented proposition was of course resisted ; but
Lord George, nevertheless, declared his determina-
tion of dividing the house on the subject, and a
desultor)' but violent debate ensued, which was ter-
minated by the motion being negatived by 192 to 9.
During the course of the discussion the riot with-
out became every moment more alarming, and Lord
George was repeatedly called upon to disperse his
followers; but his manner of addressing the latter,
which he did from the top of the galler)' stairs, leaves
it doubtful whether his intention was to quiet or
irritate them still farther. He informed them, from
time to time, of the progress of the debate, and men-
tioned by name (certainly, to put the best construc-
tion upon it, an extremely thoughtless proceeding)
those members who opposed the immediate con-
sideration of the petition; saying — "Mr. So-and-

so is now speaking against you." He told them
it was proposed to adjourn the question to the
following Tuesday, but that he did not like delays;
that "parliament might be previously prorogued,
and there would be an end of the affair." During
his harangues several members of the house warmly
expostulated with him on the imprudence of his con-
duct; but to no purpose. General Grant attempted
to draw him back, begging him "for God's sake
not to lead tiiese poor deluded people into danger;"
and Colonel Gordon (or, as other authorities say,
Colonel Murray, uncle to the Duke of Athol), a near
relative of his lordship's, demanded of him — "Do
you intend, my Lord George, to bring your rascally
adherents into the House of Commons? If you do,
the first man that enters, I will plunge my sword
not into his body, but yours.'" In this state did
matters continue until about nine o'clock at night,
when a troop of horse and infantry arrived. Lord
George then advised the mob to disperse quietly,
observing ' ' that now their gracious king was made
aware of the wishes and determination of his subjects,
he would no doubt compel his ministers to comply
with their demands." Those who attended from
purely religious motives, numbering, it is said, not
more than 600 or 700, immediately departed peace-
ably, first giving the magistrates and soldiers three
cheers. The remainder also retired about eleven
o'clock, after the adjournment of the house ; but
soon began to display the villanous designs which
had congregated them. Dividing themselves into
two bodies, one proceeded to the chapel of the
Sardinian ambassador in Duke Street, Lincoln's-Inn-
Fields, the other to that of the Bavarian ambassador
in War\vick Street, Golden Square, both of which
edifices they completely gutted, burning the furni-
ture, ornaments, &c., in heaps on the public street.
A party of guards arrived, but after the mischief
was over, who succeeded in capturing thirteen of the
rioters. In concluding our account of this eventful
day's proceedings, we must mention, that great
negligence was charged, and seemingly not without
reason, against government as well as the magistracy,
for the absence of ever}'thing like preparation for
preserving the peace — aware, as they perfectly were,
of the intended multitudinous procession.

Next day (Saturday) passed over without any
disturbance ; but this quiescence proved only a lull
before the storm. In the afternoon of Sunday, an
immense multitude met simultaneously, and evidently
by previous concert, in Moorfields, and raising the
slogan of "No Popeiy," "Down with the Papists,"
&c., immediately attacked and utterly demolished
the Catholic chapel, burning the altar, images,
pictures, &c., in the open street. Here again, the
guards arrived (to use an Iricism) in time to be too
late ; and encouraged by this circumstance, as well
as by the lenient deportment of the militar)-, who up
to this time had refrained from the use of either
sabre or fire-arms, the rioters hourly grew more
daring and outrageous. They renewed their violence
early on INIonday (the king's birth-day), by destroy-
ing a school-house and three dwelling-houses, with
a valuable librarj' belonging to Papists, in Rope-
makers' Alley. Separating their force into several
detachments, they proceeded into various quarters
of the city at once ; thus distracting the attention
of the authorities, who appeared to be paralyzed by
the fearful on-goings around them — losing all self-
possession, and of course their efficiency in checking
the career of the rioters. The houses of Sir George
Saville and several other public and private gentle-
men, together with several Popish chapels, quickly
fell a prey to pillage and flame. The violence of the

LORD GEORGE GORDON.

mob also received an accession of furj- this day from
two circmnstances — \iz. a proclamation offering a
reward of ;^500 for the discover}- of those concerned
in destro\-ing the Bavarian and Sardinian chapek ;
and the public committal to Newgate of three of the
supp)Osed ringleaders on those occasions.

It must here be recorded that early on the same
morning (Monday, 5th June) the Protestant Associa-
tion distributed a circular disclaiming all connection
with the rioters, and earnestly counselling all good
Protestants to maintain peace and good order.

Tuesday the 6th being the day appointed for the
consideration of the Protestant petition, a multitude
not less numerous than that of the pre%ious Friday
assembled round both houses of parliament, coming
in however, not in one body, but in small parties.
A disposition to outrage soon manifested itself^ and
Lord Sandwich, who fell into their hands, with
difficulty escaped with life, by the aid of the military,
his carriage being smashed to pieces. The House
of Peers, after several of their lordships had com-
mented on the unprecedented circumstances in which
they were placed, unanimously decided on the ab-
surdity of transacting business while in a state of
durance and restraint, and soon broke up, after ad-
journing proceedings till the Thursday following.
In the House of Commons, after several remarks
similar to those in the upper house, and the passing
of various resolutions to the same effect, a \-iolent
attack was made upon ministers by Mr. Burke, Mr.
Fox, and others of the opp)osition, on account of
the relaxed state of the police, which had left the
l^islature itself at the mercj' of a reckless mob.
Lord George Gordon said if the house would ap-
point a day for the discussion of the petition, and
appoint it to the satisfaction of the people, he had n*
doubt they would quietly disperse. Colonel Her-
bert remarked that although Lord George disclaimed
all connection with the rioters, it was strange that
he came into the house with their ensign of insurrec-
tion in his hat (a blue cockade), upon which his
lordship pulled it out. A committee was then ap-
pointed "to inquire into the causes of the riot," &:c,
and the house adjourned to Thursday. L'f)on the
breaking up of the house Lord George addressed
the multitude, told them what had been done, and
advised them to disperse quietly. In return, they
unharnessed his horses, and drew him in triumph
through the town.

In the meantime a ftirioos attack had been made
on the residence of Lord North in Downing Street,
which was only saved from destruction by the inter-
position of the military. In the evening the house
of Justice Hyde was surrounded, sacked, and all the
furniture, pictures, books, &c., burned before his
door. The rioters then directed their steps towards
Newgate, for the purpose of releasing their com-
panions in outrage, who were there confined. On
arriving at the gates they demanded admittance ;
which being refused by Mr. Akerman, the governor,
they forthwith proceeded to break his windows, and
to batter in the doors of the prison with pickaxes
and sledge-hammers. Flambeaus and other fire-
brands being procured, these were thrown into the
governor's house, which, along with the chapel
and other parts of the prison, was sf)eedily in flames.
The prison-doors were ako soon consumed, and the
mob rushing in set all the prisoners, to the number
of 300 (amongst whom were several imder sentence
of death), at liberty. One most remarkable circum-
stance attending this daring proceeding must not
be passed over in silence — that from a prison thus
enveloped in flames, and in the midst of a scene
of such uproar and confusion, such a number of

prisoners, many of them shut in cells to which access
was at all times most intricate and difficult, could
escape without the loss of a single life, or even the
fracture of a limb I But w-hat wUl appear perhaps
scarcely less astonishing, is the fact, that within a
very few days almost the whole of the individuals
thus unexpectedly liberated were recaptured, and
lodged either in their old or more secure quarters.

Still more emboldened by this reinforcement of
desperate confederates, the rioters proceeded in dif-
ferent detachments to the houses of Justice Cox and
Sir John Fielding, as also to the public office in
Bow Street, and the new prison, Clerkenwell — all
of which they broke in upon and gutted, liberating
the prisoners in the latter places, and thereby gain-
ing fresh numbers and strength. But the most daring
act of all was their attacking the splendid mansion
of Lord Chief-justice Mansfield, in Bloomsbury
Square. Having broken oi)en the doors and win-
dows, they proceeded, as was their custom, to fling
all the rich and costly fiimiture into the street, where
it was piled into heaps and burned amid the most
exulting yelk. The library, consisting of many
thousands of volumes, rare MSS., title-deeds, Sic,
together with a splendid assortment of pictures — all
were remorselessly destroyed. And all this passed,
too, in the presence of between 200 and jCxj soldiers,
and imder the eye of the lord chief-justice himself,
who calmly permitted this destruction of his pro-
perty, rather than expose the WTetched criminals to
the vengeance of the military. At last, seeing pre-
parations made to fire the premises, and not knowing
where the conflagration might terminate, a magistrate
read the riot act; but without efiiect. The military
were then reluctantly ordered to fire; but although
several men and women wrfere shot, the desperadoes
did not cease the work of destruction until nothing
but the bare and smoking walls were left standing.
At this time the British metropolis may be said to
have been entirely in the hands of a lawless, reckless,
and frenzied mob I The vilest of the rabble possessed
more power and authority than the king upon the
throne; the fiinctions of government were for a time
suspended; and the seat of l^islation had become
the theatre of anarchy and misrule. So confident
now were the rioters in their owm irresistible strength,
that on the afternoon of the above day they sent
notices round to the various prisons yet left standing,
to inform the prisoners at what hour they intended
to visit and liberate them! If any one incident con-
nected with a scene of such devastation, plunder, and
triumphant villany, could raise a smile on the face
of the reader or narrator, it would be the fact, that
the prisoners confined in the Fleet, sent to request
that they mig^t not be turned out of their lodgings
so late in the evening; to which a generous answer
was returned, that they would not be disturbed till
next day! In order not to be idle, however, the
considerate mob amused themselves during the rest
of the evening in burning the houses of Lord Petre
and about twenty other individuals of note — Pro-
testant as well as Catholic — and concluded the
labours of the day by ordering a general illumina-
tion in celebration of their triimiph — an order which
the inhabitants were actually compelled to obey!

On Wednesday this horrible scene of tumult and
devastation reached its acme. A party of the rioters
paid a \isit to Lord Mansfield's beautiful villa at
Caen-wood in the forenoon, and coolly began to
regale themselves with the contents of his larder and
wine-cellar, preparatory to their commencing the
usual work of destruction. Their orgies were inter-
rupted, however, by a p>arty of military, and they
Qod in all directions. It was not until the evening

LORD GEORGE GORDOX.

123

that the main body seriously renewed their diabolical
work; and the scene which ensued is described by
contemporary writers, wlio witnessed the proceed-
ings, as being too frightful for the power of language
to convey the slightest idea of. Detachments of
military, foot and horse, had gradually been drawing
in from different parts of the interior; the civic
authorities, who up to that time had been solely
occupied consulting and debating upon the course
they should pursue in the awful and unparalleled
circumstances in which they were placed, began to
gather resolution, to concentrate their force, and to
perceive the absolute necessity of acting with vigour
and decision — a necessity which every moment in-
creased. The strong arm of the law, which had so
long hung paralyzed over the heads of the wretched
criminals, once more became nerved, and prepared
to avenge the cause of justice, humanity, and social
order. The struggle, however, as may well be
conceived, was dreadful ; and we gladly borrow the
language of one who witnessed the awful spectacle
in detailing the events of that ever-memorable night.
The King's Bench, Fleet Prison, Borough Clink,
and Surrey Bridewell were all in flames at the same
moment, and their inhabitants let loose to assist in
the general havoc. No less than thii-ty-six fearful
conflagrations in different parts of the metropolis
were seen raging simultaneously, "licking tip every-
thing in their way," as a writer at the time ex-
pressively described it, and "hastening to meet each
other. "

"Let those," observes the writer before alluded
to, "call to their imagination flames ascending and
rolling in vast voluminous clouds from the King's
Bench and Fleet Prisons, the Surrey Bridewell, and
the toll-houses on Blackfriars Bridge: from houses in
flames in ever>' quarter of the city, and particularly
from the middle and lower end of Holborn, where
the premises of Messrs. Langdale and Son, eminent
distillers, were blazing as if the whole elements were
one continued flame; the cries of men, women, and
children, running up and down the street, with what-
ever, in their fright, they thought most necessary or
most precious; the tremendous roar of the infernal
miscreants inflamed with liquor, who aided the sly
incendiaries, whose sole aim was plunder; and the
repeated reports of the loaded musketry dealing
death and worse than death among the thronging
multitude !" But it was not what was doing only,
but what might yet be done, that roused the fears of
all classes. When they beheld the very outcasts of
society everywhere triumphant, and heard of their
attempting the Bank; threatening Doctoi-s-Commons,
the exchange, the pay-office ; in short, every re-
pository of treasure and office of record, men of every
persuasion and party bitterly lamented the rise and
progress of the bloody and fatal insurrection, and
execrated the authors of it. Had the Bank and
p